Angel

by Plum Pascal

  “We must leave,” the deep voice sounds from behind the man. I look over the fae’s head to see another man lurking behind him. He stands almost as tall as the ceiling and the reach of his shoulders is so broad, I imagine two of me could fit between them. Where the fae healer was surrounded by light, this creature is encircled by shadow. It weaves in and around him, coloring him with a darkness I find hauntingly alluring. He appears as though he’s older than the fae man but not by much.

  I’ve seen him before. How, I can’t say, but his face brings me a sense of calm familiarity. He’s powerful, battle-worn and strength personified, but there’s a gentleness within him that speaks to me. I know he won’t hurt me.

  He studies me in the same way the fae man did before him. With open admiration and… curiosity.

  “Yes, you must take her and leave, before Variant finds you here,” the fae man instructs and scowls as he pulls his gaze away from me and, instead, focuses on something in the distance. He makes no move to stand.

  You cannot allow him to leave you. You need both of them, the female voice booms in my head.

  “Is she well enough that I can bring her with me?” the shadow man asks.

  “The answer to that question is beside the point—you have no other alternative. She can’t stay here,” the fae man responds, refusing to look at me. I don’t understand why I can’t remain with him. He’s a friend, a comrade. And clearly, he just brought me back from the precipice of wherever I was.

  He cannot leave you, Eilish. You need him.

  As I study the fae man who refuses to so much as glance at me, a determination sets into me that I can’t deny. Whoever put those words into my head must also be in control of my body because before I know what I’m doing, I reach out and wrap my fingers around his wrist.

  He looks at me immediately, his eyebrows arching in surprise. When our eyes connect, everything goes black for a split second. Then, I see images flashing through my mind. Images that make little sense to me:

  This honey-eyed man looks down at me, watching me. I’m lying on a bed and he’s above me, his hands on either side of my head. His hair is disheveled and he’s out of breath. A thin sheen of sweat coats his entire body, causing that bronze skin to glitter. I can feel the heat of his body. I watch as his muscles tense and release as he moves above me.

  Within me.

  Yes, he’s buried deep inside me. His eyes never leave mine as he thrusts himself into me repeatedly. Each drive deeper than the last. I hear the sound of my own moan, which causes a smile to seize his mouth and he pushes into me even harder.

  “My King,” I say to him and I can feel my smile.

  His is beaming. “My beautiful Queen.”

  “Enough!”

  His voice interrupts the vision and I blink a few times once I’m transported back to the room with the fae man and the shadow man behind him. It’s then that I realize there’s a sprite circling above my head, and another man of shadow in the corner of the room.

  The fae man stares down at me with a furrowed brow and I feel coldness beneath my fingers, whereas moments before they were wrapped around his wrist. He must have pulled away from me.

  Touch him again, Eilish, the voice demands. You must know who he is.

  I don’t give him a warning before I grab his hand, and even though I’m beyond weak, my grip is firm. Strangely, he doesn’t try to release himself. Instead, he eyes me with a reticent curiosity as though he wants to understand who and what I am but, at the same time, he doesn’t.

  This time, the images hit me immediately.

  The clashing of blades. The sounds of fists meeting flesh. The cries of the wounded. The smell of something burning.

  A battle.

  The fae man is dressed in battle armor, but his armor is distinguished from that of the others by the royal crest of the Seelie Court. He is the King of the Seelie, and he leads his legion of Seelie Fae soldiers as they clamor against another. A legion of their own kind—the fae. Only instead of the lightness of the Seelie Court, this enemy bears the darkness of the Unseelie Court. Eternal rivals, yes, but never have they fought on opposite sides. Not like this.

  Standing beside the Seelie King is the man of shadow. He, too, is a king. The King of Shadows controls his own legion of winged creatures, all of whom are bathed in darkness. They are gargoyles, protectors of stone. Creatures of the night. Yet these shadow warriors fight alongside the Seelie? Against the Unseelie, against the fae king’s own kind?

  I don’t understand.

  The legion of the Unseelie Fae are led by their own king—he is dark where the King of the Seelie is fair, but just as devastatingly handsome. The Unseelie King’s anger penetrates out of him in unending ire. He’s joined by still more creatures, and they’re surrounded by a light brighter than even that of the Seelie.

  I feel my stomach fall as I realize the race of the Unseelie King’s accomplices. Angels.

  Look closely at the angels, Eilish. The woman’s voice inside my head says.

  I do as I’m told and further suffer another shocking blow. The angels are male. But how can that be? There are no more male angels left…

  Except for one.

  The King of the Angels, Variant, the woman’s voice corrects me.

  I gasp and break the illusion as I drop the beautiful man’s hand. He pulls away from me at the same time, even going to so far as to stand up to put more distance between us. I don’t know if he’s witnessed the same vision I have, but he looks stunned.

  “You’re the Seelie King,” I whisper, and the man’s eyes widen only momentarily.

  “Thank the fuckin’ stars she got her goddamned wits back!” the sprite nearly sings as it bobs up and down in the air. “I thought that Atacomite shit had eaten up her whole damn brain an’ she was gonna be as smart as a fuckin’ zombie.”

  I ignore the annoying creature.

  “He was the Seelie King,” the King of Shadows clarifies and I look at him, suddenly realizing he epitomizes the word “king”—from his impossibly large presence to the way he holds himself, the arrogance of his countenance.

  “You’re the King of Shadow,” I finish.

  His eyebrows are drawn and there’s surprise on his face, but he’s clearly pleased I know this. He’s pleased to be recognized as the king he is. A smirk appears on his lips and it’s all I can do to think of anything other than tasting them.

  “What’s your name?” he asks. No—demands.

  “Eilish,” I answer, suddenly overcome by an exhaustion that seems to claim my entire being. I close my eyes as I listen to the rasp of my breath, inhaling deeply.

  “Don’t overstress her, she can’t take it,” the Seelie King warns.

  I open my eyes to look at him but he looks beyond me, to the open window as a cool breeze enters the room, assaulting each of us and blowing his hair around his ears. I want to tell him how beautiful he is, but I hold back. The timing is wrong.

  “My liege,” the shadow man from behind the Shadow King interrupts. “We must return to our own realm before we’re forced to become stone.”

  “Yes,” the Shadow King agrees, and worry etches across his face.

  “Take her and go,” the Seelie King says, motioning to me. Cold and indifferent, he still won’t return my gaze. I imagine he wasn’t always this way and I wonder what must have happened to change him.

  “No,” I insist, and I feel everyone’s attention on me. I don’t know why, but there’s an absolute understanding within me that I can’t be separated from him or the King of Shadow. I need this Seelie King as much as I need the shadow warrior behind him. “You… saw the… vision,” I say, narrowing my eyes on him.

  “What’s she talking about?” the King of Shadow demands. He sounds perturbed.

  “I don’t know,” the Seelie King lies.

  “Yes. You do,” I insist.

  I know he saw it, I felt him pull away from me in shock and outrage at what the vision revealed. Like he didn’t want it to b
e real. I was equally shocked to see visions of a battle, but even more so when I saw the two of us in the midst of a sexual tryst. Shocked, yes, but I wasn’t about to deny any of it was true. Of course, I don’t have my memory, so I couldn’t say if what I saw had already happened and I just couldn’t remember it. Or maybe it was portending the future? A vision, sent by the woman’s voice that keeps sounding in my head? Whatever it was, I believe it.

  “What vision? What the bloody hell is she talking about, Cambion?” the Shadow King asks, spearing his glance between the Seelie King and me.

  I’m too tired to respond.

  “She’s been out of her mind for who knows how long,” the Seelie King starts, taking another step as if he wants to be far away from me.

  “No,” I interrupt, then need to take another deep breath. I’m pushing myself too hard.

  “Shhh,” the Shadow King says to me, a kind expression on his stern face. Then he growls as he grips the Seelie King’s arm and holds him firmly. “What the bloody fuck is she talking about?”

  “She’s just come out of a fucking Atacomite stupor and whatever she’s talking about might as well be the ravings of a lunatic…”

  “I’m not a… lunatic,” I argue.

  “Cambion, what did you see when she touched you?” the Shadow King demands again.

  The Seelie King finally meets his gaze and both of them look like they’re within seconds of attacking each other. “If you’d really like to know, you fucking barbarian, I saw her beneath me while I fucked her and she begged me for more.”

  While his description exaggerates the truth somewhat, it has the desired effect. The Shadow King’s expression drops and his eyes darken as his hands ball into fists. He swallows hard.

  “Would you like to know more?” the Seelie King continues, baiting the larger man. “Would you like to know how tight and wet she was?”

  “Shut the fuck up,” the Shadow King snarls.

  “Or how fucking good she felt each time I plunged into her?”

  “Shut your fucking mouth.”

  “He must… come with… us,” I tell them, as I move my gaze from the Seelie King to the shadow warrior who holds him hostage. The King of Shadow will help me. I’m not sure how I know this, but I do all the same.

  Eilish, your enemies have awareness, the woman’s voice says inside my head, and it sounds urgent. They are hunting you again. You cannot tarry any longer. You must move. Now.

  “We have no… more time,” I explain, and I have to close my eyes to catch my breath. The exhaustion is growing, claiming me. “They’re coming.”

  The Shadow King nods as if he understands my convoluted words, as if he understands who “they” are. Then, he turns his steely gray gaze to the King of the Seelie and his eyes narrow.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” he says.

  Before the Seelie King can defend himself, shadows begin to spin around him, enveloping him in a cocoon of darkness. Seconds later, the darkness disintegrates and the Seelie King collapses on the ground.

  TEN

  Dragan

  Geldingstock

  Fae Realm

  “My liege,” Thoradin says, worry in his voice. I’ve noticed it, too—the tendrils of gray creeping up from my fingertips with a hardness that numbs my extremities. Early in my exile, we tested the limits of our imprisonment and, long story short, it’s not a limit I care to test again.

  I reach down and haul Cambion over my shoulder. The asshole isn’t exactly light. “I’m fucking aware we need to leave!”

  Turn into stone now and who knows how long it would take us to make it back to the Shadow Realm. Yes, all Cambion would have to do is return us once he awoke, but after knocking him out with my Arcane Magic, I imagine he’ll be a sore loser.

  “I’m comin’ with you,” the sprite says, flapping obnoxiously in front of my face until I wish I had a fly swatter. “Wherever the hell’s you’re goin’ to.”

  “I don’t care what you do,” I respond as I turn to face Thoradin. “The angel.”

  He nods and strides up to her, leaning down as he gingerly places one arm beneath her legs and the other beneath her back, hauling her into his chest. I notice she’s too exhausted to hold on, but rests her head against him as her eyelids flutter closed and she breathes deeply. Yes, she’s still wearing only a sheet, but we don’t have time to find her anything else right now. Time is no longer at our disposal.

  I don’t like seeing her in Thoradin’s arms, and I suddenly regret going for Cambion when I could be holding her. But no matter. I have more important problems to worry about.

  Thoradin leads the way out of Cambion’s house, back into the natural world. I am quick behind him. Once outside, he stalls and glances back at me.

  “Where are we going, liege?”

  I clear my throat as I consider the options before us. Of course, the only place Thoradin and I can return to now is the Shadow Realm, otherwise we will very shortly become gargoyles. But if we return to the Gorge, I have no doubt Variant or his men will be awaiting us. Thus, it’s out of the question.

  But the Gorge isn’t the only place within the Shadow Realm where one can hide. Shadowland is vast and one could very easily lose oneself there, which will provide the exact cover we require. My mind returns to our previous conversation with Cambion. Just as Thoradin and I will soon be turning to stone where we stand, Cambion won’t be able to enter the Shadow Realm without consequence. Even if Variant didn’t plan a punishment for Cambion like he did for me and my kind, everyone knows beings of light suffer in the shadow plane. Their power and life forces are leeched from them—slowly at first, but, over time, remaining in darkness can be fatal. The same goes for the angel and sprite.

  “Grimreap,” I respond with more confidence than I feel.

  Thoradin’s harsh eyebrows arch in surprise, but he says nothing; instead, he recites the necessary enchantment to create a portal back to our world. Leaving our realm requires creative solutions, but returning necessitates only a simple incantation. Thoradin vanishes from sight with a quick spin. Leaves kick up around him, the only trace marking where he once stood.

  I feel my expression begin to harden involuntarily, my muscles seizing as my now gray arm stiffens against Cambion. On my last breath, I step into the portal, eager to have my body returned to me but worried about what enemies will meet us at our new destination.

  ###

  Dragan

  The Raven Forest,

  Shadow Realm

  We arrive in a dimly lit grove, blessedly free from interlopers. For now.

  I find it interesting and equally annoying that it appears Variant didn’t bother to place any limitations on Cambion with respect to leaving his realm. Whereas I turn to stone when leaving mine, Cambion doesn’t appear to have suffered any ill effects for leaving his. And it’s been over an hour since we passed through the portal.

  I always assumed Variant liked me least of the three of us but now I’m convinced.

  We’re on the outskirts of Grimreap, in the Raven Forest. The stench of the city wafts over us, riding the coattails of a sluggish breeze. I watch as the stony gray bleeds away from my skin and feeling returns to my arms and legs. That was close. Closer than I’d like.

  I assess our weak crew. Thoradin has placed Eilish, still slumped, against a tree. He clenches and unclenches his fists, likely feeling the same uncomfortable sensation I do as the blood returns to his previously lifeless limbs.

  Eilish, Cambion, and the blasted sprite all look worse for wear. The natural luminosity of their skin has already waned in the dim that surrounds us in the shadow plane. Eilish, still arrestingly beautiful, emits a light of her own, but her skin has taken on a gray hue, here—devoid of color in the dismal gloom. Her face is still clammy from her recent ordeal, and her long eyelashes flutter against her cheeks as if she’s dreaming. Her white hair stands in stark contrast against the dull black of the skeletal tree behind her. If it weren’t for the slight movement of her
eyelids and the gentle rise and fall of her chest, I’d think she was dead. I force my eyes away from the sheet still draped loosely around her delicate body.

  Flumph has, for once, stopped his incessant chatter and seems to be in a daze of sorts. He sits, swaying slightly, beside the angel, his waxy skin looking greenish. I turn as I hear a small burp precede his retching.

  I set Cambion against another nearby tree before turning my attention back to Eilish. I have more than one issue with her current outfit. Not only does it arouse something dark and slumbering within me, but my attention isn’t the only one she’ll attract. Men will want her as soon as they lay eyes on her. And if she’s clothed in nothing but a sheet, that want could make them act against their own better judgement. An angel in the shadow plane will be hard to miss, regardless. But a half-naked angel? Variant would be on us before we even knew we’d been spotted.

  Furthermore, I don’t trust Cambion. I’ve seen the way he looks at her—like he’s hungry. And I don’t know what to make of the vision she had of the two of them… having sex. Apparently, Cambion witnessed it, too. I can’t explain why, but the visual disturbs me. Deeply. I don’t want him to possess her. I don’t even want him to touch her.

  Cambion doesn’t deserve her. None of us do. She’s the epitome of light and beauty and each one of us is flawed. Me, especially.

  “Shall I create the Glyph of Warding, liege?” Thoradin asks, pulling me from my deep thoughts. I’m grateful for the distraction.

  “Yes.”

  The Glyph of Warding is a way of protecting everyone within a designated area from anything or anyone outside that boundary. I watch as Thoradin inscribes the glyph on six of the closest trees surrounding us, creating a squarish pattern. He uses his fingers to draw his mark on each of them and his shadows sink into the glyph, making it glow red.

  Even though the wards that now protect the perimeter of our camp are invisible, they radiate dark energy that warns beasts, sentient and otherwise, as well as the dead, to stay away. If something is brave enough to touch the wards, a blast of Shadow Magic will cause them to regret their decision. But the Glyph of Warding will allow the five of us to freely travel back and forth without consequence.