by Deirdra Eden
Drawn to the light, I shuffled through the iridescent fairy dust that carpeted the ground.
Ruburt grasped my arm and pointed to the transparent spheres of soft light rotating around the kingdom like a thousand planets in a universe. I steadied myself and watched the lights glide methodically around the gravitational pull of the flawless white tree. The shimmering dust seemed to pulse, making the kingdom appear to inhale and exhale with life.
Fairies peered from their nests in the treetops or from their homes carved out of velvety mushrooms. They whispered to each other and pointed toward Ruburt and me. Hundreds more fluttered overhead like bees in a hive, creating a constant shower of dust.
In the great white tree, one fairy stood out above the others. Cassi flew to me and whispered in my ear, “There be Anthea, queen of all fairies, pixies, and sprites.”
My mouth went dry. “Qu … Queen?” I was in the presence of royalty. I never thought I would ever meet a queen, let alone one with magic.
Queen Anthea held herself with grace and nobility. She looked different from Cassi in many ways. The queen stood five times taller than the pixie. Her wings were large and colorful, like a jeweled butterfly. Cassi’s wings were slender and transparent, like a dragonfly’s.
Queen Anthea’s shimmering silver hair cascaded in waves around her young, but wise, face. “Why are you in our forest?” Though her voice radiated tranquility, Anthea looked at Ruburt and me with a stern gaze.
“We be on journey,” Cassi explained with inappropriate playful exuberance.
The queen tilted her head and asked Cassi, “Why are you helping a dwarf?” Her tone indicated an ancient rivalry between the dwarves and fairies.
Ruburt smiled like a cornered fox. He froze like a statue and swallowed hard.
“He be protector,” Cassi explained. Ruburt and I nodded in the background. Maybe it was best to have Cassi talk to the fairies. She knew their ways and laws.
“How do we know he is a protector?”
“See my weapon,” Ruburt broke in and flashed his dagger.
I pushed Ruburt’s arm down. “I thought you said ‘don’t talk to them.’”
The queen eyed me and lowered her golden scepter. “Young lady, what is your name?”
I immediately regretted drawing attention to myself. “Auriella,” I answered in a small voice.
The fairies of the court gasped, and glitter poured around us. I wrung my hands together. Why were the fairies startled when they heard my name?
The queen raised her scepter, and the fairy chatter fell silent. Queen Anthea glanced around the kingdom and announced, “She is the one the Shadow Legion hunts.”
I knew this announcement meant trouble. I stepped away and shook my head. This had to be Hazella’s doing. “It’s a mistake,” I pleaded. “I’m an orphan from a village on the outskirts of London. My parents weren’t nobility or royalty. I am of no significance to the Legion.”
“You are Neviahan,” the queen said without hesitation.
I put my fingertips to my lips. The blood drained from my face. Sweat dewed on my neck, and my hands stiffened like ice.
Ruburt slapped his hand over his brow. “I’ve been travelin’ through a rebel-infested forest with the Legion’s target?” He sounded more alarmed than angry. “That’s like walkin’ through a wolves’ den with a deer carcass.”
The air escaped my lungs in a single burst. I was the one in shock now. How could I be a Neviahan? Neviahans were strong, courageous, confident, celestial beings. I was just a weak, beaten orphan.
“The Shadow Legion believes you are the missing Lady of Neviah,” the queen answered.
Ruburt dropped his shoulders and looked at me like he’d never seen me before. “The Lady of Neviah?” His voice held reverence and awe.
I crossed my arms under my chest. “Neviahans are great warriors. I am not. There is no way I can be the missing Lady of Neviah. I’m only fourteen.” I turned to Ruburt and pleaded, “We need to explain to the fairies and the Legion that I’m not who they’re looking for.”
Ruburt stroked his beard as he assessed me.
Was level-headed Ruburt buying into this nonsense? Couldn’t he see the tangled hair and filthy ragged clothes? I casually turned my leg to show the ugly scar from the Shadow Wolf. I thought for sure Ruburt would be my ally and explain to the fairies their dreadful error.
“It’s not how you look, Auriella,” Ruburt said in a fatherly tone. “It’s how much you’ve survived. You’re still alive.” Ruburt’s eyes flickered with hope. He grinned and shook his finger at me. “I knew it. I knew there was something special ‘bout you.”
I clenched my cloak under my chin and assured, “I’m not the Lady of Neviah. There’s nothing special about me.” I sounded unsure, even to myself. If I wasn’t a witch or demon, being a Neviahan was the only explanation for my power. This would definitely disrupt my plans for living a normal life, especially if my disastrous fiery flaws divulged themselves. If anyone else knew I was the Rebellion’s target, they would shun me. I was doomed to live the rest of my life as a hermit—like Hazella. My teeth snapped together. “Is there a way we can know for sure?”
“There is only one way to know for sure.” Anthea gripped her scepter. “Woldor the Wise is a historian of the Kingdom of Neviah. He will confirm whether you are the Lady of Neviah or not.”
“Where do we find Woldor?” Ruburt asked.
“You can summon him at the Neviahan stone circle outside of Oswestry,” the queen informed us.
Ruburt turned to me. “That’s less than a day’s journey.” Excitement laced his voice. “I need to know,” Ruburt whispered. “Thousands of people have waited for you …” Ruburt put his hands up and corrected, “I mean they have been waiting for the Lady of Neviah. If you are the Lady of Neviah, you carry a power that can save the human race from a demon holocaust.”
I gulped. I wasn’t about to tell Ruburt I could create fire. Besides, how could a plain old campfire help save the world from a holocaust?
“Lady Auriella,” Queen Anthea addressed me, “you will need this ring.” The queen motioned toward several fairies fluttering toward me with a brilliant ring.
I held out my palm. The cool metal of the ring hit my warm hand. Eight bright-colored gems lined the silver band and glistened in the light. I met the queen’s eyes. “Why me?” I asked. I felt terrible that the queen was giving me something so valuable out of false hope I was someone I wasn’t.
The queen paused before she started to explain. “The correct question is ‘Why not me?’ Whether you are human, Neviahan, or the Lady of Neviah herself, you have the power to change this world. The world is at war with enemies they cannot see, monsters that blend with the shadows and disguise themselves as humans. The only way we can win this war is for everyone to do their part toward a single goal—peace. The victory over Erebus and the Shadow Legion is not about one man or woman doing a million great tasks, but about millions of people doing what they can.”
I slid the bright ring on my finger. The sun sparkled off the spectrum of gems.
“This rainbow ring will protect you in the fairy borders. Once you are beyond our kingdom, let it remind you that, just like the rainbow, you are from the skies.”
I touched the band on my finger and took a deep breath. I hoped that whatever Woldor said, Ruburt and the fairy queen wouldn’t be disappointed if I wasn’t who they hoped I was.
“Since you have chosen a dwarf to be your protector, he will need a proper weapon,” Queen Anthea said.
“Whoa!” Ruburt shouted. He glanced down at his side and pulled a brilliant new dagger from the scabbard. Three white stones glowed like moons in the gold handle of the blade. The smooth blade glinted in the light of the fairy kingdom. “This is incredible. Is it magic?” Ruburt asked eagerly.
Queen Anthea pursed her lips. “We wouldn’t want to give you something we’ve tainted with our fairy magic, now would we?”
Ruburt tightened his jaw and slid
the dagger back in his scabbard.
Anthea continued, “We have something else that will help you on your journey.”
A neigh came from behind us. Ruburt and I whirled around.
A flock a fairies led a butterscotch pony toward Ruburt.
“For me?” Ruburt gasped and took the reins.
Anthea grinned and leaned her weight against her scepter. “This is so you can keep up with Auriella. We know how slow old dwarves can be.”
Ruburt grunted at the insult, but held his tongue.
“For Cassi, we have a fairy wand of power.”
Cassi danced in a circle. She clutched a silver wand in her hand that spouted a streamer of white sparks.
Queen Anthea nodded toward the wand. “This wand will enhance the power you already have.”
I imagined Ruburt’s beard being twice as curly as Cassi had made it before. I put my hand to my mouth to suppress my giggle.
“Now, make haste to the Neviahan Circle. Call Woldor the Wise at the altar and don’t stop for anything. You are being tracked.”
The afternoon rain drizzled over me as I navigated the slippery path out of Clun Forest. Large drops of cold water flowed off the leaves overhead and splashed onto my face. I pulled the hood of my cloak tighter around my face. My warm breath hit the crisp air and rose in white puffs.
Ruburt’s pony trotted beside me through the wet foliage. The horse relieved us of carrying the extra weight of the coins and supplies.
“What are you going to name your new horse?” I asked.
“I donno,” Ruburt answered.
Cassi peered out from Ruburt’s beard and asked, “How about Ruburt the Second?”
Ruburt’s breath came out in a gust. “No, Cassi. We’re not naming a female horse after me.”
“But, she’s so pretty,” Cassi begged.
“You and your pixie ways have caused me enough trouble. Now be quiet or you can’t ride in my beard anymore.”
“But it’s raining, and Cassi can’t fly when wet.” Cassi shivered, and Ruburt’s beard shook.
“Then I’ll make you walk,” Ruburt said.
“Cassi might walk into a spider’s web, then what would we do? What would we do?”
“Enjoy the peace and quiet,” Ruburt grunted.
I didn’t blame Cassi for being afraid of spiders, especially after seeing her friend, Morning Dew, eaten by spiders. “What about naming the horse Morning Dew?” I asked.
“Morning Dew?” Ruburt mused and looked uncertain.
“Yes!” Cassi cheered.
Ruburt pinched his bushy eyebrows together. “I suppose it’s better than Ruburt the Second.”
We walked in silence, soaking wet, hungry, and tired. I tried to think of something else to distract my thoughts from the things the queen had said. If I, a fourteen-year-old girl, was the Lady of Neviah, then the world was in deep trouble. I couldn’t handle a weapon, let alone fight off the entire Shadow Legion. I didn’t know what would be worse, if my fiery abilities meant I was the Lady of Neviah or if they meant I was witch like Hazella.
The tree line of the great forest stopped, and Ruburt halted the horse. His deep voice interrupted my thoughts, “This is the edge of the Fairy Kingdom.”
I scanned the fog-shrouded valley of wet foliage.
Ruburt pointed. “See the hill to the west? That’s where we need to go.”
I looked to where he pointed. A hill rose from the misty valley above the fog. A circle of stones crowned the top of the hill, and I could barely make out the altar where I would summon Woldor, the historian of Neviah. Mist from the storm covered the pathway between me and my answer. Anything could be lurking in the dense fog the rain and cold created.
The glistening gems of the rainbow ring chimed like bells when the rain splashed onto my hand. “The ring won’t protect me outside the forest,” I remembered. “What should we do if we meet the Shadow Legion?” I tried to keep my voice steady so Ruburt wouldn’t know I was scared.
The color drained from his face as he searched for an answer. His eyes fixed on the distant stone circle. “You must run.”
“Run?” I repeated.
“I’ll hold ‘em off until you get to the Neviahan Circle and call Woldor the Wise.”
“No.” I gasped. “They’ll kill you.” How could Ruburt think I would run away and leave him to the Rebellion?
“It’s you they want,” he argued.
“That’s why I should stay and you should run.”
Ruburt shook his head. “Auriella, I know what the Shadow Legion can do: horrible, torturous, no regard for humanity.” He paused from his sputtering. “Learn ‘bout your powers so you can destroy ‘em. You must stop ‘em.”
What was he talking about? I couldn’t stop anything, let alone an adversary like a member of the Shadow Legion. “Ruburt, please don’t sacrifice your life for me. I’m not the Lady of Neviah.”
Ruburt’s eyes met mine. Despite the situation, he smiled calmly. “I believe you are.” There was no hint of sarcasm in his tone. “I’ll ride alongside you, but if you hear or see anything unusual, keep running. Don’t lose sight of the stone circle.”
A knot tightened in my throat. I blinked back the hot tears of terror before nodding.
“Now, run!” Ruburt commanded and kicked the sides of his pony.
I took off at a sprint through the rain-soaked valley. The pony’s hooves sloshed through the muddy foliage beside me.
The fog blinded me from anything more than a few paces ahead. I could no longer see the Neviahan Circle past the cloud bank. Dread washed over me. What if I was going the wrong way? What if I was racing toward a trap?
I plunged forward into a pond I didn’t see through the fog. The cold water hit me like shards of ice penetrating my skin. Ruburt halted his pony as I regained my footing and waded back to the bank.
“We can’t stop.” Ruburt’s eyes darted around, trying to see through the fog.
“We have to somehow go around this pond,” I said and wrung out my cloak and nightgown.
Ruburt shook his head. “No, you have to swim across.”
“What?” I said. “No!”
“We know this is the path to the Neviahan Circle. If we veer from the straight course we may miss it completely. It’s too deep for my pony to swim across. I have to take the long way around.”
I planted my feet on the bank. “I’m not leaving you.”
I hardly got the sentence out before a ghostly howl echoed through the pounding rain. Lightning whipped overhead.
“Go!” Ruburt shouted. “I’ll lead them away.” He kicked the sides of his pony and galloped off.
My heart pounded inside my chest like an executioner’s drum. The sound of my breath rushed in and out. I plunged into the water. My arms swung overhead and paddled against the frigid pond. My legs tangled in my cloak and held me back. I reached for the ties and unfastened the knot with one hand. The cloak slipped beneath the water. Locks of hair stuck to my white skin, forming a wet, crimson web. I slammed my arms against the water and kicked until my hands hit the muddy bank on the other side. My fingers dug into the slippery mud. I groped for stones and roots to pull myself out of the water. I raced straight ahead, to where the valley started to slope upward. The stone circle loomed ahead of me, just at the top of the hill.
The bellow of a wolf resonated from the east, then another from the west. The echo of their haunting voices flooded the valley. Lightning flashed overhead and thunder shook the earth.
I fought my way through the wet foliage and squinted my eyes to pierce the fog. Leaves slapped against my skin and clothes. My foot struck a slick, mossy stone, and I heard a sharp crack as I plummeted to the ground. Pain shot from my ankle to my knee.
Stifling a scream, I clawed at the earth and scrambled to my feet. I tried to walk, but my leg gave out. I clenched my teeth and grabbed my ankle. It seemed all the forces of nature were working against me.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse,
a dark spirit in a shadowy human form, stepped from the shroud of fog and glided toward me. I covered my mouth to quiet my rapid breathing. The shadowy human form crouched down on all fours and transformed. Matted fur sprang from its back. Its eyes flashed like brimstone. It stretched out a massive paw and took another step toward me. “She’s close. I can smell her blood,” the wolf said.
Two other wolves stepped from the fog and followed the alpha wolf as they searched for me. Their gums flailed hideously over their jagged teeth as they took in my scent. They moved toward me, their ears pulled back as they prowled near.