by Skye Horn
“Please,” he pleaded.
As the clouds shifted in the sky and the moonlight shone across his features, her expression transformed from fear to shock to recognition. The bile threatening to rise from his stomach settled at the sight. His soul lifted, and his lips stretched into a broad grin.
“You remember,” he said without question; it was written all over her face.
“T-That’s impossible. How do I know you?” she asked. The answer to her question was far more than Kieran could explain here and now, but the fact that she recognized him at all lifted a fifteen-year-old weight from his shoulders. He wanted to stretch his wings and lift her into his arms, but he controlled his urges carefully.
Kieran had spent so long dreaming of this moment. He’d wondered if she’d recognize him and desired that recognition more than anything in all the four Kingdoms of Faerie.
“I remember you, but it’s like a dream,” she said.
Her brows pulled together as she stared at him, and her fear melted away. She took a deliberate step in his direction, closing the distance, and her small pink mouth fell open into an O as his wings entered her vision.
“I thought I was imagining it,” she said unafraid. “What are you?”
The sudden tremble of the ground beneath them cut Kieran’s response short, for this time, it was not him stepping through the Threshold. The princess’ eyes grew wide as she looked beyond him to where the doorway began reopening.
“Get behind me,” he ordered, turning his back on her. He unfolded his wings, spreading them wide to form a wall between the princess and whoever was coming. She did as he said without question, but the warmth he’d surrounded her with snapped away so quickly that she started shivering again. As the surrounding air grew colder, the shadows crawled through the glowing crack in the earth, slinking like a disease into a new, unexplored place. He cursed and drew his sword from the baldric that was slung across his chest. A deep azure illuminated the blade as his hands wrapped around the hilt.
Shadows snaked in their direction, but Kieran whipped them away with a flick of his wings. A tiny gasp behind him alerted him of her fear, and he wanted nothing more than to get her out of here before it was too late, but there was no time to flee now.
He stood his ground.
“Do exactly as I say, do you understand?” he directed his command over his shoulder and heard a slight squeak of agreement just as a figure stepped across the Threshold. The shadows stretched out from her fingertips as extensions of her thin limbs, attempting to strike at Kieran’s wings. She wore the seal of King Malachi upon her right shoulder, embroidered in deep crimson thread along her black leather sleeve. Her short blonde hair accentuated her pointed ears, but despite her obvious attempt to look older, the softness of her face gave away her youth.
“You appear to have finally slipped up, Kieran,” she said with a wicked smile, stalking around him like a cat would a mouse. Her voice was melodic, as many Fae’s voices were. Her eyes, however, were rimmed with red—a sign of the dark magic she wielded. “I never thought of you as foolish, but you left the way wide open for me. Following some silly voice in your head? Come and find me…”
Kieran’s back stiffened at the repetition of the words he’d heard so clearly, the words he’d assumed came from the princess.
“You—” he started to say, but her annoying giggling cut him off.
“Oh, won’t you ever learn not to trust the voices in your head?”
He felt foolish to have thought the princess had called to him, a pang of hurt even, but didn’t let that hurt reflect on his face. Instead, he gripped the sword a little tighter and glared at the young Fae.
“Go back to your father, Amara,” he said coldly. He lifted the sword, ready for the fight of his life. Despite her age, Kieran knew Amara was a skilled warrior, and after using magic to open the Threshold, he was no longer at full strength. The dark magic she commanded made her considerably more dangerous, but if he failed to keep Thea out of Amara’s grasp there would be a far greater darkness to face.
“Now, now… you wouldn’t keep me away from my dearly missed big sister, would you?” Amara cooed, attempting to peek behind his wings just as he lunged with his sword aimed directly for her heart.
Thea watched in horror as Kieran unsheathed his sword, momentarily distracted from the massive black wings outstretched in front of her. She stood frozen, as if her limbs had completely forgotten how to move or react, while he lunged for Amara.
You’ve snapped, she told herself when the short-haired girl who’d literally just walked out of the earth announced herself as Thea’s sister. Despite the strange leather attire Amara wore, she seemed no older than fifteen or sixteen. Thea tried to look around Kieran’s wings, but he all but growled at her to stay where she was. She didn’t like him bossing her around, but regardless of any urges she had to run away, an invisible force physically held her ankles in place.
“You’re not getting near her,” Kieran said in the most animalistic tone Thea had ever heard outside of a movie screen. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled at the sound, while every instinct in her body urged her to run as fast and as far away from this situation as she could.
What was she doing? Why wasn’t she screaming for help or calling the police? She recalled the old woman and her grandson who’d been standing at her side just minutes before this all began, wondering if they were still close enough to hear her yell.
Two lunatics were fighting with swords in front of her, her feet were magically glued to the ground beneath her, and one of those lunatics had wings—actual, raven-like WINGS. Why wasn’t she running for her damn life?
Despite the wings on his back, Kieran’s feet never left the ground. He positioned himself between Thea and Amara at all times, but it didn’t work to his advantage. Amara’s two blades sliced a clean line across the back of his calf and red liquid began to soak through his pant leg as he let out an outraged scream of pain.
Thea, who’d suddenly discovered her voice again, shrieked at Amara to stop. All thoughts of fleeing slipped from her mind as her heart raced at the sight of Kieran’s blood pooling onto the ground beneath him. Waves of repulsion twisted her stomach into tight knots, rising into her throat as she thrashed against the invisible chains that seized her, trying desperately to reach out and help him. Reckless desire to protect him from Amara’s blade overcame her, erasing all sense of logic and reason. She could practically see the invisible line connecting them, a line that she feared would shatter her if severed.
Kieran’s pleading gaze met hers, begging her to remain where she was, but Thea ignored him. She wasn’t a damsel in distress, despite the obvious difference in ability between them. She wouldn’t allow him to die protecting her out of some misplaced sense of duty he appeared to possess. To Thea’s horror, Kieran’s distraction nearly got him impaled through the stomach.
“Please, stop!” she screamed.
Amara laughed.
“Look at this; she’s worried about you, and you’re supposed to be the one protecting her.” Her laugh was hideous and cruel, but before Thea could think to respond, one of Amara’s snakelike shadows twisted itself around Thea’s legs. It inched icily up her body and cupped her chin as if it were caressing a lover.
Thea wanted to vomit.
Amara continued to smile from where she fought Kieran effortlessly a few yards away. He limped on his injured leg, and Thea realized that whatever magic Kieran was using, he was splitting it between keeping her out of harm’s way and fighting against Amara. It was exhausting him and would cost him his life.
The tentacle-like shadows wrapped around Thea’s neck like a boa constrictor, and she whimpered despite herself, watching Kieran’s gaze flicker back toward her. She wanted to snap at him to stop looking at her and focus on Amara. It was clear that Kieran was outmatched, so the last thing he needed to be doing right now was worrying about her. However, she wouldn’t be snapping at anyone because the shadow was swal
lowing her like prey. She choked on the suffocating darkness, slamming her eyes shut as her vision blurred. The last thing Thea heard before the magic completely consumed her was Kieran begging Amara for her freedom.
Fight it! A voice said in her head, but not the usual little voice that told her when things were right or wrong, nor the sinister tone she’d heard earlier saying they were coming. This voice was crystal clear and demanding, but not cruel. Fight it or you’ll both die tonight!
How? Thea asked. She struggled to breathe as Kieran’s screams grew farther and farther away.
You know how, said the woman’s voice. The familiarity of the voice was just as unexplainable as Thea’s familiarity with Kieran, but she ignored the insanity of the situation. Whatever was going on in her head would have to wait for a time when she wasn’t about to die. Burying the panic, Thea didn’t allow herself to overthink her next actions. Instead, she opened her hands from the fists they’d clenched into and willed herself to break free of the shadows drowning her.
She thought of Kieran, fighting alone to protect her against Amara. She thought of Amara’s claim to be her sister, and the attempted murder of both Kieran and herself. And she thought of her parents’ lies, which had placed her on this path to Ireland in the first place. All of these thoughts and emotions burned beneath the surface of her skin, threatening to explode like the monstrous thunder in the sky, but instead of letting them shatter her, she used them to power through whatever held her captive.
Magic, the voice explained, and the nonsensical word made absolute sense to Thea, even as she tried to rationalize another explanation.
Looking down, she saw the same glow that had illuminated Kieran’s sword radiating from the palms of her hands. She didn’t have time to understand what was happening, because whatever it was, she felt it draining her of every ounce of remaining energy. So, without hesitation, she held her hands up, palms out, and aimed in the general direction she’d seen Amara last. It was nearly impossible to see through the shadows that engulfed her, but as soon as her hands lifted, the tentacles of icy darkness recoiled, fleeing back to their source. Thea glimpsed Kieran diving out of the way just in time as the magic shot from her hands, hitting Amara square in the chest. The surrounding darkness disappeared, leaving only a wide-eyed adolescent staring at Thea from the ground.
Thea dropped her hands back to her sides, her strength crumpling from the inside out, and felt herself falling toward the earth, only to be caught by a powerful set of arms. Despite her drenched clothing, his skin felt warm against hers and the musky scent of earth on his shirt made her smile deliriously.
“You’re welcome,” she told him. She rested her head against his chest, listening closely to his racing heartbeat. His breathing was quick, and the way he looked at her was almost proud. He lifted her into his arms without a word, but she shook her head, still conscious enough to understand.
“Your leg is injured,” she argued, her eyes fighting her in an endless battle for sleep. A distant part of her told her to be scared that Amara would attack again, but she had no energy left to do so.
“It’s only a scratch,” he lied as she recalled the amount of blood that had spilled from his leg. “We need to leave. She knows she can’t fight us both, but she hasn’t noticed how weak it has made you.”
Thea felt offended by his comment. She’d just done something extraordinary and saved both of their lives, but he was calling her weak? She frowned, failing to hide the hurt on her face.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Kieran commented, but did not appear in the mood to elaborate. His eyes darted around them as he limped toward the place she’d seen both him and Amara emerge from the earth. “You shouldn’t have been able to do that without training. How did you know what to do?”
“She told me,” Thea said. She yawned, nuzzling her head against him, unable to hold it up any longer.
“She?”
“Where are you taking me?” Thea asked, her eyes closing. A safer darkness took her into its arms as she finally gave into her fatigue. She felt Kieran kiss her head and wondered if it’d been her imagination as he mumbled a single word against her skin: home.
Chapter 3
Thea walked through a field of poppies in a flowing white dress that brushed the forest floor. Her fingertips touched the tops of the flowers, which grew larger than any poppy she’d ever seen. Trees encircled the massive meadow, and pinkish-purple reflections danced across the dawning sky. Thea recognized the dream by its vibrant color scheme and the hazy feeling of her thoughts, but she struggled to remember how she fell asleep in the first place. She racked her brain for any solid moment to grasp onto, gasping as the memories overwhelmed her.
“Kieran,” she said aloud, spinning around as if she could run from the meadow to find him. Instead, she found herself face to face with a red mare who stood grazing among the poppies.
Human-like amusement sparkled behind the animal’s golden eyes.
“Uh, hi…” Thea said. She figured in a dream she could control any outcome, but considering she wanted nothing more than to wake up, it seemed she had no control at all. The mare let out a soft whinny and returned to her grazing, while Thea tilted her head.
The horse’s mane hung in beautiful auburn strands that nearly matched the color of Thea’s own hair. Her tail flicked, swishing back and forth with the breeze, and her eyes continued to watch Thea. Those eyes were more intelligent than any typical horse’s; Thea felt them staring directly through her, seeing everything that had happened to her over the past couple of months, exploring the loneliness and regret she’d buried. She felt each emotion being taken from her, each memory being replayed as if she were experiencing it all over again, and a tear trickled down her cheek.
“Stop,” she said. Her voice cracked. “P-Please.”
The memory of the life she’d left behind in Colorado flickered around her. She saw Marcus’ heartbroken face as he read over her goodbye note long after she’d boarded a plane, the engagement ring glimmering painfully clear against his open palm. She’d been too scared to tell him in person—so sure he’d convince her to stay.
“Please,” she begged again, not wanting to see anymore.
Thea saw the single tear that fell from the mare’s eye as she lay in the grass, bowed low at Thea’s feet, and although she did not speak, Thea understood her message.
Then she awoke.
At first, Thea didn’t open her eyes. Instead, she allowed the dream to linger a moment longer behind her eyelids. The mare’s kind gaze relieved a small part of her that had been clutching the pain and loss of the past few months. Sharing those difficult memories with someone, even in a dream, filled her lungs with a fresh breath of air. Air that tasted like pine trees and poppies on the soft pillow beneath her head.
“I think she’s awake,” said an unfamiliar voice. Someone else hurried loudly out of the room as Thea opened her eyes, blinking slowly against the fresh light. She was wrapped in cotton blankets on a particularly comfortable bed that practically filled the entire bedroom.
Thea shifted to untangle herself from the blankets as a curly-haired girl stared at her wide-eyed from across the room.
“Princess Claire, it’s such an honor to finally meet you,” the girl squeaked, actually squeaked with an embarrassed blush. She practically ran to Thea, throwing her arms around her in an awkward hug that made every muscle tense up in Thea’s body, and then pulled away. Her face was flaming. “I’m sorry, that was completely inappropriate. It’s just that we are so happy to have you home, and the village is already celebrating, and you’ve been asleep for three days, and I just can’t believe I’m actually meeting you, milady. You’re so beautiful and I just can’t—” Thea could hardly keep up with how quickly she spoke, but responding didn’t matter because suddenly the girl burst into tears, knocking Thea completely speechless.
She reached out to rest her hand on the girl’s shoulder and tried to think of something to say. The problem was, she
had no idea why the girl was crying, or even more importantly, why she’d called her Claire.
“It’s okay,” Thea consoled. “My name is Thea though, not Claire.”
“Oh,” the girl rubbed her eyes and sniffled as her tears slowed. Thea withdrew her hand but feared she might scare the poor girl into another emotional breakdown. “But Kieran said—”
“Perhaps we should let Kieran explain things to her when he gets back, Ethel.”
The words had come from the doorway of the bedroom where a woman in a dark-green dress who appeared around the same age as Thea’s mother stood. She had a heart-shaped face and emerald eyes that looked as if someone had painted them on, and the neatly braided crown of blonde hair around her head reminded Thea of a fairytale. The woman’s natural beauty stunned Thea as she sat beside her.
“My name is Iris,” she said, patting Thea’s hand with a kind smile. “I’m Kieran’s aunt, and this is my home.”
She handed Thea a glass full of crystalline water, which Thea took a drink of without hesitation. The cool liquid soothed her parched tongue almost immediately.
“I’m Thea,” was all Thea could think to respond as she stared at Iris.
“Ethel, would you please go prepare lunch for our guest?” Iris said, and the girl nodded happily. Her cheeks were still streaked from tears as she ran from the room. “You’ll have to excuse her; sometimes the young get overly emotional.”
“Where is Kieran?” Thea asked, glancing around what she could only assume was his bedroom. There were no pictures on the walls or decorations in the room, but the scent on the pillow when she’d woken up had been the same as when he’d carried her. Aside from the bed, there was a desk in the corner of the room that had two daggers lying across it, a fireplace casting light and warmth around them, and a small bedside table with a candle on it. Someone had drawn the curtains open, allowing sunlight to fill the bedroom.