by Plum Pascal
“I don’t know, Dragan,” I spit back. “Maybe not risk our fucking lives on the word of a bug!”
He shakes his head but doesn’t answer. My face flushes; my hands are shaking so violently I have no choice but to ball them into fists.
“We could subject her to the Enchantment of True Seeing,” Thoradin proposes in a low voice. I’m surprised he’s offered a suggestion as I’ve never heard him do so before. Usually, he’s Dragan’s yes-man and nothing more.
“If her magic is strong enough, she could deny the enchantment,” I counter, but the idea still sticks with me all the same.
“Not if all three of us blend our magic together,” Thoradin responds. He has a point. The three of us should have enough magic to overpower whatever magic is inherent in the so-called angel. If she were a witch or a hag, the three of us would be able to overcome her and reveal her for what she truly is.
“It’s too dangerous. She’s too weak,” Dragan says as he looks at the beautiful girl and shakes his head.
“I don’t care,” I respond with stern conviction.
The subject in question remains silent. Her tired eyes have once again found the fire. As to her wings’ status, she makes no comment. It strikes me then that we know very little about her. We have no idea where she came from, or even what she came from. In the spaces she’s left with her silence, Dragan’s filled in the gaps with his assumptions of her goodness. If it came down to it, would he be able to see she isn’t what he thought?
His hard gaze is trained on the fire and it’s as if I can see the gears of his mind working furiously. Dragan, for all the time I’ve known him, has been driven, stubborn, and moral to a fault. More than once his actions, rooted in honor, have caused more harm than good. How fitting that Dragan is literally a creature of stone. He’s hard, unyielding, immobile. Time seems to have hardened these qualities, making him doubly set in his ways. Admittedly, it isn’t always a bad thing.
When he’s on your side, he’s the greatest ally you could hope for. He’s the most loyal person I’ve ever met. And this situation is proof—Dragan’s going (quite literally) to the ends of the earth for a woman we know nothing about.
I turn my attention to the anger still welling inside me. I feel beyond irate, my emotion boiling very near the surface. I want to slap Dragan out of this trance the woman has put him in, break him out of this blind obedience. His immobility on the subject of the angel is dangerous.
Watching her at the edge of the fire, however, my anger lessens somewhat. I feel it, too. That pull toward her. Maybe she really is an angel and not some hag or witch—it would explain the fact that none of us can keep our eyes off her.
And then, suddenly, I understand Dragan better. I start to see this situation from his perspective, because I feel the pull towards her just as readily as he does. If she truly is an angel, it’s not just her beauty that induces Dragan’s loyalty; she, by her very nature, is deserving of our reverence. An angel’s power is unmatched and, so far, even with all my misgivings, she still could provide the outcome Dragan’s so desperately wanted—an outcome he’s waited a century for.
For Dragan, the angel isn’t just a potential sexual conquest. She’s his hope. He wants nothing more than a reason to rebel against Variant. And prior to this moment, he’s never been given that reason. But if she truly is an angel and possesses her wings, she’d be reason enough. An intact, female angel is about as powerful as powerful gets. This is the reason Variant had the wings amputated from every female angel, and the reason he had all male angels put to death. He wants no one to threaten his rule.
As far as I’m concerned, until the angel proves she still possesses her wings, I consider her nothing more than a liability. And given the fact that she bears the markings, chances are she’s been ripped of her wings just like every other angel has been.
“You’re a fool, Dragan,” I say as I look over at her. “You’ve bought into her story—hook, line and sinker—without ever seeing proof that she is what she says she is.”
“I never said I was anything,” she suddenly pipes up and faces me accusingly. “You’re the ones who’ve made a big deal about me still having my wings.”
“Then you don’t possess them?” I ask her, surprised at the vitriol in her tone. Her expression reveals nothing; she merely stares into the fire, her body swaying slightly with the effort to hold herself upright. In the moment, she doesn’t appear dangerous. She appears tired, scared, and confused. She clutches at the edges of her sheet and I feel the tension leave my body. Briefly, I forget where I am and long just to touch her, to warm her. To share my light. To feel hers.
“I don’t know,” she says and shrugs.
“Of course, you don’t,” I reply with a smile I don’t feel and glance back at Dragan. He refuses to meet my gaze.
“I think you should do it,” the girl says as I face her and she stares me right in the eyes.
“Do what?”
“Force the truth out of me, like Thoradin suggested.”
“No,” Dragan says and approaches her, but she turns her heated gaze on him.
“The only way any of you are going to trust me is if you know I’m telling you the truth. And I need you to trust me.”
“The Enchantment of True Seeing won’t produce your wings,” I say staunchly.
“But if I’m aware that I have my wings, I’ll admit that I do, right?” she asks.
I cock my head to the side. “I suppose so, yes.”
She takes a deep breath. “Then do it. I want to know as much about myself as you do. I’m tired of living without answers and only facing more and more questions.”
“You’re weak, Eilish,” Dragan starts.
She shakes her head. “Cambion healed me before; he could heal me again.”
“He isn’t as powerful in this realm,” Dragan tells her. “The Shadow Realm is already leeching the life force from all of you.”
“I could heal her,” I say with conviction.
“We could lend Cambion our magic as well, liege,” Thoradin says. He’s clearly a proponent of this plan, as well. Apparently, I’m not the only one who doubts the girl.
Dragan is quiet for a few seconds but then nods without saying anything more.
###
Dragan
I don’t believe this is a good idea. Eilish is exhausted and her body is weak. After what she’s been through, the idea of putting her through something as taxing as this enchantment seems wrong, malicious. But now that she’s asked to be subjected to it, I’m not sure what more I can do to stop it from happening.
“If she shows signs of pain or increased weakness, we stop immediately,” I warn them. Thoradin nods his agreement but Cambion just stares at me. I’m not sure what his problem is; it seems like he’s trying to discredit her. I believe he wants nothing more than to prove she’s not what she appears to be, but I’m not sure why. He must recognize that if she’s an intact angel, she’s the answer to defeating Variant? Then it dawns on me: maybe that’s the exact reason why he hopes she’s a fraud. Maybe he’s that afraid of rebelling against Variant?
Regardless, I believe in her. I can’t explain why, because she’s shown me nothing more than she’s shown the others, but I believe in her all the same. Maybe I’m a fool. I suppose time will tell.
“Join hands,” Cambion says as we circle Eilish. She lies in the center of our circle, facing the starless, black sky.
“Sprite, you must place both hands on her,” Cambion continues.
“Why I gotta do that?”
“Learn how to follow directions without asking questions,” I bark at him. He glares up at me but does as he’s told. His light energy will help balance the loss of Eilish’s.
“One of us must touch her,” Cambion explains.
No one is going to touch her but me. I reach out, placing my hand on her shoulder, and she glances up at me with wide, nervous eyes. She’s scared. I smile down at her as consolingly as I’m able. She takes a
deep breath and breaks my gaze, staring up at the sky again.
Cambion begins reciting the words of the enchantment in the old language of Elvish. I watch as Eilish’s breathing picks up, her chest rising and falling more obviously. She closes her eyes.
“Activate your Shadow Magic,” Cambion instructs and I close my eyes, calling my shadows forth. I feel them immediately. Opening my eyes, I witness a bluish glow building from beneath Cambion’s hands. It spreads to Thoradin’s, where it morphs to a red glow, then carries through to me. Fairly soon, our circle of arms is lit with fae and shadow magic, blue and red fluorescence that dances along our hands and arms, highlighting the circle surrounding Eilish.
She opens her mouth and inhales deeply, her breathing coming even faster now.
“I call forth the powers of the Enchantment of True Seeing,” Cambion intones. Almost immediately, the glow linking us begins to arch inwards, toward Eilish. The glow empties from our skin and swallows her entire body, cocooning her in a white, radiant embrace. She jerks slightly and opens her mouth as a slight moan echoes from her lips. It’s a doleful sound.
“Hurry,” I growl at Cambion.
“Are you angel or are you otherwise?” Cambion demands, staring down at her with an expression devoid of empathy.
Eilish opens her mouth to speak, but another small moan escapes and her jaw tightens. Cambion repeats his question, this time with more urgency.
“I am… angel,” she says this time, in a small, wilted tone. “But I am more.”
“More?” Cambion studies her pensively. I’m surprised, as well. “What more are you?” he asks.
“I… I am not… sure.”
“Do you still possess your wings?” he insists.
“I… I don’t know.” She takes another deep breath and clenches her eyes shut. A tremor suddenly seizes her, shaking her from her shoulders to her feet. Her eyes pop open and the whites are clearly visible. She’s afraid.
“Who placed the marks on your back?” Cambion asks.
“I…”
“Who placed the marks on your back?” he asks again, this time louder, more impatient.
“Cambion,” I growl at him in warning. I hate the way he’s treating her—as if she’s not an angelic being, as if she doesn’t deserve his respect. I’ve forgotten how much I fucking hate him.
“I… I don’t know.”
“Where did you come from?”
She closes her eyes again and pauses as tears begin to drip from her lashes. Her hands are now fists at her sides, and her skin tone is pure white.
“She cryin’,” Flumph says, and he glances up at me with an expression of concern.
“Cambion, no more,” I whisper as I face the man in question. But he doesn’t bother looking at me and, instead, continues staring at her, his jaw tight. He’s angry and by his expression, he isn’t about to give up anytime soon.
“Where did you come from?” he repeats.
“I… I don’t know,” she answers.
Cambion frowns and his eyes are hard, deliberate. “Is it true your memories aren’t available to you?”
Tears roll freely down her cheeks now and her breathing is coming in ragged gasps. “Yes, it’s true.”
“Are you trying to manipulate us into doing your bidding?”
“She don’t look too good,” Flumph points out, looking up at Cambion, but when Cambion doesn’t respond, the sprite looks at me. “You gotta stop him, Dragan.”
“Are you trying to manipulate us?” Cambion says louder, glaring at the sprite and then at me.
“No,” she whispers, then begins to openly sob.
“Cambion,” I snarl at him again. “Enough.”
“What do you want from us?” he nearly interrupts me.
She’s started crying uncontrollably, the pulse in her neck pounding. “Your… protection.”
“From what?”
“I… I don’t know.” Another tremor rocks through her and she arches her back, gritting her teeth as she cries out.
“Stop!” Flumph yells. He’s careful to keep his hands on her as he looks at Cambion imploringly. There’s wild fear in his eyes. “I can feel her pain! You gotta stop!”
“Cambion!” I yell at him, and he finally looks at me. “You’ve gotten your answers, now release her!”
He makes no motion to do anything. Just stands there, glaring at me.
“Fucking release her!” I yell at him.
“I haven’t accessed her subconscious. All her answers are coming from her conscious mind, which is why she can’t answer any of my questions,” he responds.
“I don’t fucking care. You’re hurting her!”
She begins to hyperventilate and I glare at Cambion. I want to bury my fucking fists into his face and tear away that look of determination. I want to kill him for what he’s just done to her. But I know I can’t break the circle—if I do, the magic won’t escape her body and it will destroy her as quickly as I release my hands.
“I want fucking answers,” Cambion snarls, clenching his teeth as he frowns at me, his eyes issuing their own warning.
Eilish’s breathing is coming so quickly, I’m afraid she’s about to lose consciousness. She throws her head from side to side as an agonizing moan escapes her.
“Release her now or I’ll fucking kill you,” I say very clearly, staring directly at Cambion.
He glances down at the angel, who’s sweating and pale, her tears bleeding into the black earth beneath her.
Cambion frowns and begins speaking Elvish again. As soon as the words leave his mouth, the glow enveloping her begins to fade and she breathes out a long sigh. After another few seconds, it’s gone completely, and Cambion finishes the enchantment and drops our hands.
That’s when I pull my arm back and release it, punching him across the face.
FOURTEEN
Cambion
The Raven Forest,
Shadow Realm
I feel the bones in my cheek break under Dragan’s knuckles. There’s instant pain and I see him wince as his knuckles shatter in turn. Before I can take another breath, he’s on top of me, pounding me incessantly with his broken fists. I can’t see anything, and the only thing I can feel is pain echoing through my body as my ribs snap beneath his fury.
I’m not sure how it happens, but Thoradin dives between us and pulls the fucking barbarian away from me. I’m on all fours, watching the blood dripping from my broken nose and sinking into the black earth beneath me.
“You fucker,” Dragan seethes at me.
I ignore him and reach into myself, into the light that’s fading the longer we spend in this fucking forest. But the light is still there all the same and when I call it, it answers. I can feel my bones mending as my magic spins a healing web throughout my body. Another few seconds and I’m returned to myself, sans any pain.
That’s when I turn to face the man whom I once called friend. But those days were long ago, and now, he’s my enemy.
Dragan, too, is bleeding. Luckily, I was able to produce a few choice blows myself and, with Thoradin still restraining him, I watch as his Arcane Magic heals him just as my Light Magic did the same for me.
“You’ve gotten your answers,” Dragan says as he pushes Thoradin away and stands up straight. He walks over to the angel, then crouches beside her. The sprite is still standing there, with his hands still on her. The girl’s eyes are closed but she’s breathing.
“I got no answers,” I correct him. All I have now are more questions—namely, what did the girl mean when she admitted to being more than an angel?
“She’s an angel, you have to accept that now,” Dragan says, his gaze fixed on her. “And you’d better start treating her with the respect she deserves.”
I can’t argue with him. Even though I didn’t find out much, at least I know she wasn’t lying about what she is. When I walk over to them, he glares up at me, snarling as if to warn me not to come any closer to her.
“She needs healing,”
I announce as I look down at her pale face.
Dragan nods and allows me to approach the beautiful girl. I place my hands on her naked shoulders and close my eyes, calling up the light that still remains inside me. I’m exhausted already. The energy it took just to heal myself is going to take a few days to replenish, at least. And that’s only if I get out of this fucking shadow forest.
I feel the crackle of electricity as it fans out through my fingers and enters the angel, lighting her from within. As she begins to glow, I watch her inhale deeply and continue to pump my life force into her until I grow so weak, I have to pull away.
“It will have to do,” I confess as I roll over and sit down, needing to catch my breath. I close my eyes and will the dizziness away. “I have nothing left to give.”
“We need to leave this forest,” Dragan says.
That’s when I realize there’s no escape, now. If I return to the Fae Realm, Variant will know I’ve been gone and I’ll be in a whole world of trouble for not immediately turning Dragan, Thoradin, Flumph, and the angel over when they first entered my realm.
I could stretch the truth, yes, perhaps play up the events leading to my capture. I could say Dragan threatened me, told me he’d kill me if I didn’t save her. Then, when it was over, he took me as his prisoner. But I know Variant would never believe it—even though parts of it are true. Variant knows Dragan as well as I do, and he knows the bounds of Dragan’s sense of honor. He would know I’m here because I agreed to help.
To be fair, I haven’t been entirely honest with Dragan. When I told him I had no desire to leave Geldingstock, it was a lie. Geldingstock is a comfortable prison, but a prison nonetheless. And I’m not accustomed to the role of prisoner. Dragan and I are immortal beings, protectors at one time of the realms of light and dark. We were kings of the highest order, elected by the Midnight Queen herself to serve the three realms and all within them. We were given magic of the highest order—power that no other creatures possessed. Over time, that power has faded and weakened, especially while we’re subject to realms that aren’t our own. But we’re still highly capable, all the same.