Aloft

by J F Rogers

  He placed a hand on my shoulder. “But we did. Everything worked out according to God’s plan. The witches have returned to the underworld, and the angels will destroy the zpět, never to resurrect a soul from the afterlife again.”

  I motioned toward Kai and my brothers. “Their restraints fell after you took Morrigan. Does that mean all her spells will break?”

  Pudgy fingers lifted to scratch his red hair, even as his forehead crinkled. “I imagine so.”

  “What about the fasgadair? Will they return to their old forms?”

  He shook his head, his eyes sad. “I’m afraid not. A spell didn’t cause their damnation. It was the demon blood they ingested.”

  “So, we could still run into fasgadair.” It wasn’t a question. More of a sad fact.

  “Yes, but we have weapons to use against them and salvation to offer.”

  “But the fight isn’t over.” I deflated. Then again, how realistic was it of me to think the battle in this world would ever end? There would always be trouble as long as evil existed.

  “For now. But not forever. God will prevail.” Pepin braced a warm hand on my forearm. Such comfort in his touch. Such truth in his statement.

  “I hate to interrupt.” Alastar latched onto my shoulders and leaned, pressing me forward. “But there’s still one thing we must do.”

  I shoved him off me. Yup, he was adapting to his little brother role quite well. “Right now?” I was exhausted. What else could we possibly have to do?

  Alastar’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he wrinkled his nose like he swallowed something foul. “We need to rescue Morrigan’s king collection.”

  “We should get Abracham.” Declan drummed his fingers on his leg. “In case his father is there.”

  ****

  Pepin delivered us to the bowels of Ceas Croi. Blackness surrounded me. Mold and death assaulted my nose in the still, thin air. Though I didn’t want to inhale, I sucked in only what I needed to survive.

  Something touched me, and I jerked, brushing off whatever had invaded.

  “It’s me.” Alastar’s voice echoed. “Here. Light this.” He thrust what I assumed was a torch into my hand.

  I grasped the stick and felt my way to the tip and ignited it. Flickering light illuminated a few feet around us. I half expected to find something else standing in our midst. I turned around, casting the light as far as possible to ensure we were alone.

  Alastar grabbed a couple more torches and lit them from mine. “Follow me. I think it’s this way.”

  We followed him among the muck-ridden halls. This must be what it’s like to be a miner. How could they work in a place like this day after day? I fought rising panic.

  You’re okay, Fallon. You’ve been through much worse. God will see you through.

  We reached a room nothing like the hall we’d left. I lit the sconces along the wall to brighten the place. Bats scattered from the tall ceiling, forming a black cloud and whooshing past us into the hall. Torches illuminated a mock throne room with golden tiles, ornate pillars, and a high ceiling painted to resemble the heavens. Thrones lined the walls.

  Within most of the thrones sat a withered, emaciated body.

  I latched onto Kai, waiting for them to rise and attack.

  Abracham had stilled beside me. His hand, which tended to stroke his Merlin beard, now kept a firm grip as if about to rip it off. Was his father here? Could he recognize him? He’d only been a boy when their kingdom had been torn away. And these gray bodies lacked recognizable features. To me, anyway.

  Alastar pulled his dagger from its sheath and pivoted to Declan, jabbing the point toward him. “You have the flask?”

  “Aye.” Declan slipped a flask from his pouch, uncapped it, and poured some of its contents onto Alastar’s blade. “Brandish your weapons. We should each have a covered blade.”

  We each tinted our daggers ruby-red with redeemed blood, the lacquer settling in place, but not drying. If I’d ever been one to paint my nails, I’d never want to do it again. Once we were ready, Alastar approached the first throne. The rest of us moved in a collective huddle behind him.

  He climbed the steps, his blade readied, as if he expected the carcass to lunge. He brought his blade near the king’s arm and swiped. The wound puffed smoke as though it were full of dust, reminding me of stepping on puffball mushrooms as a kid.

  The king crumbled into a pile of dust.

  “Does that—” My loud voice echoed, and a bat who’d missed his cue earlier took his leave. I lowered my voice. “Does that mean he’s not redeemable? Or are they emaciated beyond repair?”

  “I’ve only ever seen fasgadair emaciated to this extent restored by drinking blood.” Alastar sidled to the next throne. “We’ll have to keep trying.”

  Alastar cut the next king, and he, too, dissolved into dust.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t try something else?” I slid behind Kai, waiting for the fasgadair to realize what was happening and rise to protect themselves.

  “Like what, feeding them to plump them up first?” Declan asked. Was he always so sarcastic or was he learning from me?

  The next four kings followed the same fate. Only one left.

  God, I pray these kings were unredeemable, and we’re not killing them.

  “Wait.” Abracham released his death grip on his beard and approached Alastar. He held a hand out. “Please, allow me.”

  With his weapon, Alastar motioned toward the final king. “Is this—?”

  “My father. I believe so.”

  He relinquished his blade to Abracham and bowed.

  Abracham inched toward the blade, taking extreme care. He held it to his chest, looked to the heavens, and moved his lips in prayer. Then he swiped his blade across the last king’s arm. I braced myself for the inevitable collapse, but veins appeared from the spot and fanned out as whatever blood within wound a slow path through his circulatory system. His flesh swelled in a delayed reaction, and the gray skin changed to white, then added a pinkish hue. The slow transformation seemed to stall under his ragged clothing until it crept along his neck, to his face, then to his other arm. Faint crinkling and gushing sounds followed the transfiguration.

  Alastar stepped back, joining our cluster. Weapons readied, we barely breathed during the slow change.

  Life reached his dead eyes, and the king blinked. With each blink, his dilated, fasgadair pupils shrank to their normal size along with the blue irises, and the whites emerged. He glanced around, moving his neck as if he’d removed a brace and tested it to ensure it had healed. His thin fingers gripping the sides of the throne, he attempted to stand. Cracking bones followed his movement, and he collapsed into his seat. “I–I—”

  “You’re Kellagh.” Abracham’s voice broke. “King of Diabalta. Morrigan has returned to Hades, and your kingdom has been restored.” Abracham knelt before the throne and bowed his head. “Father.”

  Epilogue

  ◊◊◊

  TWO YEARS LATER

  I stood with Kai by the cliffs of his paradise overlooking the lake. Peace filled my soul as the lowered sun blanketed the sky in reds, yellows, and every hue in between. Music and merry chatter carried from the celebration elevated me further. Then there was Kai. My heart hammered as he drew me in for another kiss.

  “Ehem.” Stacy cleared her throat in the most obnoxious way possible.

  We peeled ourselves apart and gave Stacy the attention she would receive one way or another.

  “There’s a party going on.” Hands on her hips, she tapped her foot. “You know, to celebrate your marriage? I still cannot believe you’re married.”

  I groaned, then laughed. How I’d missed her. It was beyond my wildest dreams to share this place with her. “We’re taking a breather, Stace.”

  She grabbed my hand then Kai’s and pulled us toward the festivities. “You’ll hate yourself forever if you miss your party.”

  “Thanks for thinkin
g of me.” I rolled my eyes.

  We ducked along the thin path through exotic plants. Floral scents reminding me of jasmine and orange blossoms wafted my way, adding to the intoxicating mood. Flutes, drums, laughter, and chatter grew louder. The foliage cleared, and the place looked more magical as the sky darkened and mason jar lights emitted a fairy-tale aura. People danced on the platform as musicians carried the tune.

  Rác bounded toward us, ears flapping, tongue lolling to the side. Kai scratched the dog’s side, then petted his head.

  “There’s the happy couple.” King Aleksander raised his goblet. “Where are your drinks?”

  Alastar neared with two glasses and thrust them in our hands.

  King Aleksander clinked cups and took a swig. Kai and I followed suit, taking baby sips or tonight would end far too soon. “I still can’t believe how much the world has changed, Fallon. We owe you a great debt. Not only are our kingdoms and reigns restored, we’re united. Something I’d never dreamt possible. But you’ve done it.” He lifted his cup again and took another drink.

  I didn’t join him in the drink. “It was God, not me. The credit belongs to Him.”

  “Hear, hear!” Rowan sidled next to her father. “I’m so happy for you two. Congratulations.” She smiled as Evan linked arms with hers.

  “I’m looking forward to yours.” I tilted my head in a slight bow. “I’m sure a royal wedding will be far grander.” I’d actually expected them to marry sooner than me and Kai, but it seemed such events involving entire countries took more time.

  Rowan waved and scoffed. “I’d much prefer an intimate celebration like this. So enchanting.”

  “Ours will be too.” Evan kissed her cheek.

  Rowan blushed. I guess she’d marry for her country and for love.

  My heart swelled for her. “It’s hard to believe I’ll be living in a kingdom ruled by such dear friends. I’m glad you’ll be close.”

  “Aye.” Rowan wiped a blonde curl from her face. “This worked out perfectly. Bandia is in my father’s good hands, and I love this country. It’s beautiful.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Declan and Ji Ah stepped from the dance floor toward us.

  “Will you two be next?” I lifted my cup toward them.

  “Next to what?” Declan screwed up his eyes at me.

  “Marry.” Another couple I’d expected to be married already. They’d been inseparable since surviving Ceas Croi.

  “If Ji Ah accepts me.” He gazed at her as if she held the secret to his happiness.

  She smacked his arm and returned his adoring look.

  “Speaking of weddings. Where are Maili and Zakur?” Their wedding suspended in Kylemore’s trees last year was breathtaking. Nothing could compare to a wedding in a tree village.

  Alastar bent around in every direction. “They’re around here somewhere.”

  Colleen ran past waving something in the air. Corwin, Nialla, and Beagan followed, giggling and tripping as they went.

  “I love you, Fal.” Stacy nudged me as she watched the kids. “But I never, in a million years, imagined you’d get married in another world and have an instant family.”

  “Me either.” I wove my arm through Kai’s. “But we both felt called to this next adventure. Those kids need a home, and we can’t separate them.” I gazed at Kai, my heart swelling with gratitude to have him in this with me.

  “Besides, we love them.” He patted my hand.

  And they loved him, especially Corwin and Nialla. They’d never forget how he rescued them in Bandia. He was their hero as a good dad should be.

  “Still, four kids are a lot.” Stacy bobbed her head and scrunched up her face into the expression that had oh so many meanings.

  I elbowed her.

  “But if anyone can do it, you can.” Feigning hurt, she rubbed her arm.

  “With God, we can do it.” Kai smiled and planted a kiss on my head. Was it possible to love him more? “And, thanks to our new neighbors’ help with the expansion to my house, we have plenty of room.”

  “Yeah, sorry we invaded.” Alastar’s smile and swinging arms counteracted his words. “But with all these kids, you’ll never know when we’ll need the triplet fire. It’s best if we’re close.”

  “And I love having my brothers as neighbors.” As Wolf and our mother approached, I craned my neck in their direction. “Speaking of neighbors… ”

  “What are you blathering on about?” Wolf chucked his chin toward me.

  “Oh, we’re just teasing Fallon about her ready-made family.” Alastar winked at me.

  “Yes.” My mother tugged her sleeves. “You’ll need me around to help you care for those kids.”

  “And Kai needs someone nearby who isn’t one of Fallon’s blood relatives.” Wolf smacked Kai on the back. “I apologize if you enjoyed your solitude, my friend. Those days are over.”

  “True. Sorry, Kai.” I squeezed his arm in mock sympathy, though he’d shared how happy it made him to have his isolation breached. “But Cahal and Pepin will also be around for you.”

  It saddened part of me that none of those who’d begun this journey with me were planning to return to Notirr. A remnant had returned to begin the rebuilding efforts. But my friends were excited to build a new community with me in Kai’s paradise. The first selkie/gachen village ever.

  “Maybe I’ll be able to visit and have visitors more often with Turas.” I raised my voice on the last word to get Pepin’s attention.

  It worked. His ears perked up. He left his seat with Cahal and sauntered over. “Did you mention Turas?”

  “I was telling everyone how great it will be to use Turas to visit and allow them to visit.” I folded my arms across my chest.

  “Hmph.” Pepin grumbled. “You know the rules. An exception was made for this wedding, but you can’t use Turas whenever you please.”

  I laughed. “I know. I know, O Mighty Keeper of Turas.”

  “Go ahead and mock me.” He waved a pudgy hand that only a fool would underestimate. “We’ll see how often I allow you access.”

  One side of his beard lifted in a crooked smile. Despite his attitude, his new responsibility honored him, and he loved the title I’d given him. He returned to his chair with Cahal, who raised his goblet toward us.

  I smiled and took a drink with him across the distance. It’s taken me a long time to figure him out. He loves people, but he doesn’t need communication, only to be close. I was so glad he decided to take residence in our newly established village.

  “We still need to think of a name,” Declan said.

  “For what?” I asked. “Oh, our village?”

  He nodded.

  “Yeah.” I’d thought and thought and couldn’t come up with anything fitting. Perhaps someday. Until then, it was perfect as it was with my loved ones near.

  “You know… ” Stacy tipped her head and squinted at me. “This place is spectacular. And you’ve got a great family here and so many friends. I’m beginning to wonder if you made up that stuff about having to save the world.”

  “Wha—” I slung my mouth open in mock shock. “You never know. The fasgadair might’ve figured out how to use the megaliths and destroyed our realm too.”

  “See? There you go being dramatic again.” She lolled her head back and forth. “You always were a drama queen.”

  “Yeah, Stace.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m the dramatic one.”

  “Are you suggesting I’m more dramatic than you?” Her voice rose in pitch and whininess. She held a hand to her chest as if mortified. “I can’t believe you’d say such a thing.” Then she smacked my shoulder and laughed.

  If only I could keep her here forever. I watched the kids weaving through the dancers, to the royalty in my midst, to a family I’d only recently come to know, to the introverts on the outskirts enjoying the festivities from a distance. Blood or not, they were family now. My heart filled to overflowing. This sid
e of heaven, life would never be perfect, but I had God and His love and His people and their love. I was blessed beyond comprehension.

  The Fall of Diabalta

  You’re still here? Want to know just how Le’Corenci—eh-hem, sorry—Ennis took down Diabalta? Check out the missing piece of the story here:

  https://jfrogers.com/book/the-fall-of-diabalta/

  Shameless Request for Reviews

  ◊◊◊

  Authors need reviews! They help books get noticed, and I love to know what my readers think of my stories. So, if you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review where you purchased this book, Goodreads, BookBub… or anywhere you think a review might be helpful. I’m forever grateful!

  You are loved,

  J. F. Rogers

  About the Author

  ◊◊◊

  J. F. Rogers lives in southern Maine with her husband and daughter. She has a degree in Behavioral Science and teaches a fifth- and sixth-grade Sunday school class. When she’s not visiting Ariboslia, you can find her buried in snow or kayaking, depending on the time of year. Or at church. She’s a junk-food junkie turned health nut who believes wholeheartedly in the One True God and can say with certainty—you are loved.

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  Acknowledgments

  ◊◊◊

  As always, I must thank God first. He is my Creator, my Inspiration, my All.

  Next, my husband, Rick, and daughter, Emily. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Thank you for your love and patience. I love you both so much.