Ascending Into Light (Descending Series Book 2)

by Alainna MacPherson

  Ascending Into Light

  By

  Alainna MacPherson

  Copyright © Alainna MacPherson, 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  A special thanks to some writer friends out there for all of your support.

  Prologue

  The train bounced as it crossed onto another track, jostling the passengers in the subway car. Ceiricin tried not to let the old woman beside him bump into him. When it jiggled again, he quickly stood up to hold the bar in the middle. Humans made him nervous. He would take a car but he didn’t have a lot of money in the way of the humans. He learned the first trip out of Seelie that his gold coin wasn’t usually seen. In fact it drew too much attention. It was already taboo for him to leave Seelie, to gain notice from the wrong sort of people may lead to information getting to the king. And that’s exactly what he didn’t want.

  Coming up to his stop, he carefully made his way to the door. When the car doors swished open, he stepped off, thankful to be done with the ride. Though he’d witnessed magic, it had been so many years since the faerie in Seelie could conjure their abilities, at least in full force. Accepting the new science and technology that the humans had in their world was mind boggling. Even after a couple weeks of making this trip, he still wasn’t accustomed to seeing it all.

  Walking the couple blocks it took to get to his destination, he pulled open the door to the diner he ate at every visit. Seating himself, he slid into a booth. It was close to lunch time and there was a young family of three a few tables in front of him. The mother was playing with the baby in a high chair, causing sweet squeals to burst from the tiny creature.

  Ceiricin smiled at the display.

  “What can I get you?” A grumpy older woman’s voice snaps him out of his gaze.

  Looking up, he plasters his best smile at the woman. She didn’t scare him. He’d come across her a time or two already and he knew she was all bark and no bite.

  “Is Ellana here?” He asked. But he already knew she was, or he wouldn’t be there.

  The woman rolled her eyes impatiently at him and walked off. A minute later, Ellana bounced down the row of tables. She smiled at him when she saw him. He returned it with one of his own, and stood up to give her a tight hug when she reached him.

  “Cin!” She said, excited. “How are you?” They both sat down across from one another.

  He looked her over, taking stock. She looked healthy, maybe a little tired, but healthy. “I’m well. You?”

  She folded her arms on the table to lean in, “I’m great. I started school this week,” she told him. The look in her eye made him happy for her and sad at the same time. He missed her.

  “That’s great!” He told her.

  “Yeah, it’s just two classes at the community college but it works with my work schedule here,” she explained.

  He looked around at the diner. It was only a little run down, but it wasn’t awful. Still though, he would feel better if she were home. Where he could look after her better. Family shouldn’t be so separated, worlds apart, he thought.

  “Hey!” A grisly voice called from behind the kitchen window. They both looked over to see a bear of a man glare at them. “You workin’, ‘Lana, or hardly workin’?”

  Though she looked a little worried, she just slowly slid out of the booth and stood at the table.

  “Working, Jace,” she called back over her shoulder as she pulled out her notepad and pen. Smiling widely at her brother she asked, “What can I get ya?”

  Ceiricin forced a smile up at her and ordered a chicken panini sandwich and a soda. One thing they didn’t have at Seelie was carbonated drinks. Fancy wines, champagnes, most definitely, but nothing compared to the bubbly sweetness of a cola.

  After a few minutes, she brought out his order and placed his bill at his elbow, all business like. Once she’d walked off, he glanced at it. And there it was, just like she did every time he paid a visit, a happy face with it’s tongue sticking out was drawn next to the total.

  He chuckled as he finished eating.

  At the door, he hugged her one last time to say goodbye. As he pulled away, he pressed a few coins in her hand, more than enough to cover the bill and to, hopefully, help her, too. She pecked him on the cheek and waved as he walked out and passed by the window on the sidewalk.

  It would be another week before he saw his baby sister. Until then, it was back to Seelie where he played the dutiful subject.

  Chapter One

  Fallon didn’t bother with words when Kaer spotted him towards the end of the main cavern. He fell in behind him, as his second he knew to heed him readily. After a few hundred years, he and Kaer had developed a brotherly bond, one that went beyond that of service. Fallon didn’t believe in ruling a people he couldn’t protect.

  Though one large part of him told Fallon to return to his room where his mate, Jessandra, lay sleeping, another larger part demanded that he look the thing that abducted her earlier that day, hurting her, and dig his talons into its flesh. And that was just the start.

  Topside, he spread his massive wings and flew through the hole in the ceiling of the Barr, Kaer following close behind. There was a light fog in the air, chilling their skin as they cut through the clouds of mist. What took Roshea, Cormac, Alyss, Liam and the guards a couple hours to locate by car and foot, Fallon and Kaer made short work of, making the trip to the old office building in an industrial part of New York in under thirty minutes.

  Landing on the roof, no one on the streets below was non-the wiser to the creatures of nightmares above. Roshea met them by the roof’s access door and led them down a couple flights of stairs before stopping at a suite door that had belonged to a legal office back when the building was operational.

  Opening the door, Roshea let him proceed ahead of her. The sound of heavy chains clanging together could be heard in the small reception area as Fallon moved around an old desk and some dusty boxes. Reaching the farthest room in the back, he found four faerie males, one in each corner holding a length of chain. Said chain was wrapped around the neck and body, arms and wings pinned down, of a Fomorian. At least that’s what he looked like on the surface, but he was far from it at the heart. The orange eyes that Jess spoke of now flared brightly as they daringly looked at the soldiers. He understood the sickness all to well. The wings, beneath the chain links, no doubt would sport the telltale ratty appearance, almost like dirty rags the way they hung limply against his body rather than taut.

  Fallon felt a momentary pang of regret when he recognized the beast.

  “Karshan,” he said, seeing the male snap his eyes to pin Fallon with that orange gaze.

  Like a splash of water, they were clear again. Free of the murderous rage. “Mo ri,” Karshan breathed, surprised and relieved all at once. He hung his head in what looked to Fallon as a sign of regret. It only lasted a second before he jerked back up, testing the strength of the chains holding him as well as the Unseelie guards who gripped the ends.

  “You’ve no right to hold me, daor!” He roared so forcefully that spittle ran down his chin.

  Fallon’s fight began to drain from his body, only to be replaced by pity and sorrow.

  “You disappeared three years ago, friend,” he said calmly.

  Karshan hissed at him, fangs extending slightly. “You know nothing,” he ground, stilling for a moment.

  “I see you didn’t take
the sword,” Fallon pointed out.

  Karshan’s eyes seemed to lose their intensity as he looked to the floor, remaining quiet.

  “We’ve found her,” the Fomorian King said softly.

  The weary male looked back to him, meeting his gaze steadily. They were both silent for a few heartbeats, both had gone lax in their desire to fight.

  “My master commanded me to take her,” Karshan spoke, divulging information that Fallon hadn’t thought to get from him at the start. “But I think he wanted her for something else. I’m not sure he knew who she was. I didn’t.”

  “You suspect he had other motives?” Fallon inquired.

  “Perhaps,” he said. No sooner did the word leave his lips that he cringed and rolled his head from side to side, like he had an itch he couldn’t reach. Soon though, it turned to shaking it vigorously.

  The chains went taut once again as his body began to flex and struggle against the bindings.

  For a second, Fallon expected him to return to the feral creature he’d walked in to. Except when Karshan snapped his head forward once more, eerily still, he almost jumped back away from the intense stare he pinned him with.

  “Do it, mo ri,” Karshan growled pleadingly. “Please. For Letti.” The sorrow on his face tore at Fallon.

  Nodding, he turned to Roshae, who handed him her short sword. The blade caught the light from the window, a neon sign must have been shining on the street below somewhere, for it shone a reddish hue as he gripped it in his hand.

  “Worry not, cean croga. We shall care for your family well,” Fallon comforted him, laying the palm of his empty hand on the top of Karshan’s head as it hung on his shoulders. He felt a minute nod before pulling away.

  Taking hold of the blade’s handle in both hands now, he leveled the hilt up close to his chest and armpit. Taking a deep breath, he thrust the blade into Karshan’s heart, the metal finding little resistance as it slid cleaning through flesh and muscle between the ribs, laying rest to the tortured soul that was caged within.

  The silence in the room broke at the sound of chains crumbing to the floor, along with the fallen Fomorian, echoing against the empty walls.

  “Leave him,” Fallon said, achingly. Rather than return the sword to Roshae, he kept it gripped in his left hand.

  Nodding, Roshae directed the guardsmen to head out.

  “Dishonorable,” one of the guards spat under his breath.

  Fallon’s head snapped up to pin him with a dagger stare. “You dare to speak judgement of something you know nothing of!” He spat at the Unseelie man. Moving towards him, Roshae stumbled around Karshan to stand in front of her king, hands held up in the air close to his chest, though not touching. “Mo ri,” she said urgently.

  It was Kaer who spoke next, kicking aside the now loose chain. “It is necessary that Karshan’s death appear to have been in a fight or by torture. For his family’s sake.”

  Clarity began to dawn on the offending guardsmen.

  “Should the reality of his death be discovered by his Seelie masters, his family’s lives may be forfeit,” Kaer explained.

  The guards all looked down to the now dead Fomorian and then simultaneously looked up at one another. The one who spoke out of turn nodded to the rest. They all followed suit when he spread his arms out slightly to the sides, level still with his hips, palms forward. Eyes closed. In a low but clear voice, he began to give what the Seelie, dark and light, consider last rights. Per tradition, after he was done, the man to his right repeated the same words, and then the next and the next, until the fourth guardsman had finished and they all slowly dropped their arms. Eyes open now, they were taken aback when they saw the three Fomorians staring, dumbfounded, at them all. After a silent moment, Fallon swallowed hard, his Adams apple bobbing as he did, and approached the same guardsman once again, this time without threat.

  “Thank you for honoring our brother,” he said, holding his hand out to him.

  The Unseelie just nodded and gripped his forearm firmly.

  “Your name,” Fallon demanded.

  “Sartan,” he answered.

  Fallon nodded as he squeezed Sartan’s arm one last time before releasing it. “Sartan, please join us this eve for a drink at the Nead.”

  Barely covering up his shock, the Unseelie bowed his head in acknowledgement to Fallon’s invitation. It had been thousands of years since a Seelie, of any bloodline, and a Fomorian had ever sat down to a leisurely drink or meal, barring this evening’s with the queen. Not since the Seelie ancestors king had betrayed the giant race.

  Chapter Two

  Kaer and Fallon arrived back at the Barr just before midnight, Roshae and the four guards were close behind in the car. Moira was directing the removal of the table to a couple of males, including Illian, who appeared to be faring well from his scuffle with Cormac a few nights prior. All eyes went to the king and his second, taking notice in the next instant, of the still bloody sword in Fallon’s hand. Their expressions were solemn at the sight and its meaning.

  Fallon just nodded to them briefly before heading for the stairs. He received the same response from the others who watched him pass by through the main cavern and on to his residence. With each pair of eyes that lay upon the sword, and their sorrowful expressions that followed, his heart grew heavier.

  Stopping short when he grew closer to his door, he saw that Finn and Keegan were no longer standing guard outside where he’d left them. Though he already suspected, he checked his rooms, finding them empty. Not one of the three people he’d left inside were there any longer. Senses flaring to hyper drive, he placed the sword carefully on his desk and then strode out, heading for Jessandra’s room back the way he’d come. At the mouth of the main cavern once again, he could see that no one stood outside her door. Though they may have left their original post at his own quarters, he knew the twins wouldn’t dare leave his mate’s side.

  “Mo ri,” called a voice from behind him. Moira, having just finished cleaning up the meal above he presumed, smiled at him.

  “They are in the meal hall,” she said, smiling a little.

  “Thank you, cousin,” he said, walking up to stand close to her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he looked down at her. “Will you please find the sword on my desk in my room and dress it for Karshan’s widow?”

  At the mention of the fallen’s name, her eyes grew sad. “Yes, mo ri,” she whispered, placing a hand over his covered arm. “I’m sorry, Fallon.” Formalities put to the side for the moment.

  “It’s just as well. Now he is at peace and his family should be safe,” he confided to her. She nodded and stepped around him.

  Sighing deeply, he walked slowly to the meal hall, weary to the bone. There he found all six of them, the twins standing against the nearest wall keeping a watchful eye, while Alyss, Cormac, Jess and Kaer sat at a table, the remnants of a meal in front of them. They were talking quietly amongst each other. His men all three spotted him in the same instant. Finn and Keegan stood taller while Kaer simply nodded. He must have arrived at the meal hall to ask the kitchen for drinks while Fallon had made his way to his room. Her back to him, Kaer alerted Jess to Fallon’s arrival. Turning around in her seat, she smiled sadly up at him as he approached. He noted that she no longer wore Moira’s dress, having changed into jeans and a crew neck shirt with the words “The Poisoned Apples” splashed on the front, along with a rotten apple with a bite in it. He returned the smile as best he could. She swung her legs over the bench she sat on, standing up just as he drew up to the table and in one fluid motion wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. In a natural reaction he too wrapped one arm around her waist and the other hand cradled the back of her head. They stayed like this for a few moments, taking comfort in one another, uncaring of the audience.

  “Kaer told you,” Fallon said, pulling back enough to look down at her beautiful face. The sight of her brought the doubt to rest and began the healing.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. From her exp
ression he could tell that Kaer had explained the reasons behind his actions as well.

  “Do you forgive me, gra?” He whispered brokenly.

  “What?” She asked, equally confused and shocked at the same time.

  He took a second to tuck a few strands of hair behind her each before speaking again. “For not meting out justice for what happened to you?” A moment of silence passed between them as he busied himself with her hair. In his and everyone other Fomorian’s eyes, he took pity and showed mercy on her captor. Definitely not what he had originally planned when he left here earlier, with rage in his heart.

  “Fallon,” the seriousness in her voice had his eyes snapping back to her. “There’s no need for forgiveness. He had no control of what he was doing. No choice.” Her gaze was stern but her cheeks grew red with passion.

  His silence spurred her to take his face in her hands. Holding him still as she went on, his runes brightening at the surface.

  He nodded as best he could in her grip. Seeing movement behind her, he saw Cormac stand, meeting Fallon’s eyes. Tugging down her hands, he kept hold of one in his own, uncaring of the telltale runes and the company who saw them. Though it seemed that only Cormac spotted it, as the rest of the group were eyeing one another: Faerie and Fomorian. Sizing one-another up.

  It was then that Roshae and the four Unseelie guards walked in to the hall, moving to stand beside Cormac as well. Kaer and Alyss pushed out from their seats too. They all stood in a haphazard circle. Gillian whispered in carrying a tray of small short glasses, like shot glasses but smaller, and a crystal bottle full of an amber liquid. Setting down the tray on the table, she bowed out just as quietly. Fallon reached for the bottle only to have Cormac beat him to it. No one said a word, even through the shock of a Seelie, of any blood, filling the glasses, almost a tablespoon’s worth each, and passing one to each person.