Ascending Into Light (Descending Series Book 2)

by Alainna MacPherson

  Turning back around to face the group, once again at Alyss’ side, the renowned trickster spoke words true to everyone’s heart with glass held high.

  “To Karshan,” he began. “May his sacrifice and all others before him and to come, not be in vain.”

  Swallowing, Fallon went to down the glass, only to be stopped by Cormac speaking again.

  “And to new allies. May we all succeed in our quest for freedom and unity,” he concluded, throwing back his glass.

  The rest exchanged looked for a split second before emptying their own drinks.

  Whiskey, Jess determined. She wasn’t sure until she’d tasted it. And a damned good one at that. She didn’t usually mix the drinks at the bar, mostly just managing drafts, but she knew a good drink when it passed her lips. She couldn’t even imagine defiling it by adding soda to it.

  That aside, Jess watched as Cormac bowed over Alyss’ hand that he held slightly aloft, all the while her sister looking slightly shocked, before releasing it and looking to Fallon.

  “I must return to my queen to give her a full report,” he said. “We’ll contact you soon.”

  He and Fallon clasped one another’s arms in farewell before Cormac led his guardsmen out of the hall. Roshae and Kaer took their leave as well, retiring to their rooms. When Jess looked pointedly to her sister, Alyss frowned in mock offense.

  “Well, I can tell when I’m not wanted,” she huffed. Jerking her head over at the twins, she caught their attention. “What do you say, boys? Walk me to my room?”

  They hesitated, glancing at Fallon. When he nodded they followed her out.

  When they were alone, Jess hoisted herself up onto the table top, legs planted on the bench seat. “What a day,” she said heavily.

  “Agreed,” Fallon concurred. He remained standing but relaxed his stance, placing his hands on his hips.

  Nodding to her shoulder, he asked, “How is it?” He was surprised to see her without something to brace it. No sling or wrappings to be seen.

  “Hm, oh,” she looked to have been deep in thought for a second. Looking to her shoulder, she gingerly rolled it forward. “Still a little tender,” she reported. “Liana gave me a pick me up, she called it, while you were gone. Cormac told me later that it was a dose of healing magic.”

  “Brianna must like you to allow such a thing,” he told her, moving to stand closer, his body nearly touching her legs, to gently massage the soreness she spoke of.

  “Or she just really wants to see this alliance to happen,” she countered.

  “Yes, there is that,” Fallon agreed, lightly massaging her neck.

  “Cormac has a thing for my sister,” Jess said.

  “He does,” was all he said, just enjoying hearing her voice.

  “Should I be worried?” She inquired.

  He thought on it for a second before answering. “He has been known to be a ladies man, and not a very discreet one either.” When he saw her back stiffen he ran a relaxing hand down it. “Though he’s never courted one the way I’ve seen him do with Alyss.”

  He dropped his hands, stepping to sit beside her, resting an open hand on his knee, palm up invitingly.

  She didn’t miss a beat, placing her own inside it, watching as his hand swallowed hers. The markings dawned in incandescent blue swirls and lines glowing from under the surface to spread vibrantly on the skin in a webbed pattern growing outwards to cover his whole hand, even the fingertips.

  “Well that’s something, I guess,” she said.

  A moment passed in mutual silence as he toyed with her small hands.

  “Alyss told me the cat’s out of the bag about us,” she tried to make light of it, but her words had him dropping her hand and his expression shutting down, making him hard to read all of a sudden.

  Bereft, she tucked her hand under her leg, trying to savor the warmth he left behind.

  “Things have changed, yes,” he said eventually.

  “What does that mean exactly?” She inquired, brows creased in confusion when she twisted at the waist to look at him fully.

  Instead of answering her question, he said, “I have a meeting tomorrow evening with the Seelie King.” Her brows shot back up and her eyes widened in shock. Then, in the next instant, those same eyes narrowed in worry. Before she had a chance to bombard him with more questions, he went on to say, “And there is a ball three nights from now that he is hosting for his birthday celebration.”

  That last bit of info didn’t help Jess’ blood pressure whatsoever. Two bombshells back to back, she needed a second to regroup.

  “Do you think he suspects?” She asked worriedly. Her breathing and heart rate kicked up a bit as the thought of her grandfather finding out what Fallon had planned.

  “No. It’s been planned for months,” he assured her. “He holds these sorts of events now and then to show the unified front he has with the other courts. It being his birthday just gives him an excuse. It’s all a farce, but I am required to make an appearance as a guest.” That last part was dripping with sarcasm.

  She began to see how the game was being played by all sides. By showing his confidence to his enemies, though in a smoke mirrored sort of way, King Sylus flexed his power over them all. The Unseelie couldn’t challenge because of being outnumbered. The Formorian’s couldn’t rebel because of the hostages involved.

  Suddenly an idea struck her. “We need an inside man.”

  “What?” Fallon stilled, thrown off guard by her outburst.

  “We need an inside man, in the Seelie court, if we want to pull this off with as little casualties as possible. Someone to let us in to get the women and children,” she stopped to think about it some more. Fallon, too, seemed to consider her words. “Not everyone in Seelie can be completely ignorant to King Sylus’ corruptive ways.”

  “You may be right,” he said a little taken aback. Excitedly he stood to pace in front of her to ponder over the change in plans.

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think I could help outside of magic,” she pointed out, trying not to be offended.

  Stopping short, he looked to her with a small smile ticking at the corner of his full lips. Heart throb, she thought. He probably wasn’t even aware of it either, the way their culture was about courtship and the limitations to explore possible mates.

  “Of course, princess. I only meant that I didn’t expect you to be knowledgeable in war tactics.” He moved around the room again. That he got political on her again didn’t go unnoticed by Jessandra.

  Before she could call him on it though, he went on to say, “I will use the ball to feel out some of the court members for those who may be sensitive to the cause.” She could see the wheels turning a mile a minute in his head. Smiling, she found he was pretty hot when he was plotting, completely lost in his thoughts.

  “I’ll speak with Kaer on it. He might have heard something towards what we are looking for,” his excitement told Jess that their moment alone was over and replaced with strategizing.

  “I’m going to go soak in the bath before last meal,” she said, standing up. She ached in more places than just her shoulder, and none in a desirable way.

  Snapping out of his thoughts, Fallon looked up at her. “I’ll walk you.”

  “No, no. Go and talk to Kaer. I know you really want to,” she said, trying to wave him off, only to stop at one glance up at his stony gaze. No argument. Got it. “Or, you can walk me to my room.”

  He fell into step beside her. The trip back was silent, but she knew he was still thinking about plans. She spotted Illian outside her door now. The twins must be on a break, she thought.

  Her guard kept his gaze straight ahead but she could tell he had seen their approach by the way he stood straighter against the wall. He looked to be at full strength now. Gone was the tired pallor from his face and the slice in his wing looked to have stitched itself back to a healthy looking pinkish mark.

  When they arrived outside her door,
Fallon just took her hand and gave it a small squeeze before releasing her to say, “I shall see you at last meal.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Oh, wait!” As he turned back around she dodged into her room, returning a few seconds later to hand him something white.

  “My shirt,” he said, confused. Those dark brows furrowing as he looked at her questioningly.

  “Yeah, the dress I was wearing was just a little too worse for wear and I needed something to cover up with,” she explained. Suddenly feeling a little embarrassed at having taken the liberty to go through his things without his knowledge. She rushed on to say, “I hope that was okay.”

  “No, it’s fine.” He smiled reassuringly at her.

  She shyly returned the smile..

  “I’ll see you later,” he said, turning to walk away, shirt in hand.

  Chapter Three

  Back in his quarters, Fallon went straight to his bedroom and placed the shirt on the nightstand before sliding off the benai around his biceps, placing them beside the shirt, taking out his mother’s comb from his vest pocket, adding it beside to the pile. Removing the vest, he balled it up like a piece of trash, oh how he wished, and tossed it across the room and into the deep white laundry basket. Seeing it sink with a satisfying swish, he unbuttoned the long row of buttons on his shirt. Tugging it over his head, the Velcro separated at the back, he spotted a bit of splattered blood on one cuff. At the sight, a new wave of regret washed over him. It seemed what little energy was left in him had suddenly disappeared.

  Letting the stained shirt drop to the floor, he grabbed up the comb and silver bands and turned to the bathroom behind him. Pushing the door open he walked to the shower that took up the majority of the right side and turned on the water, allowing it to heat up as he finished undressing. Reaching up he removed the two smaller benai from his talons, laying them on the sink counter along with the other’s, the metal ringing on the polished concrete surface.

  Adjusting the water’s temperature one last time, he stepped into the glass and tile enclosure. To a human, the small room would be considered quite sizable and possibly large enough for a party. However, to Fallon, the tight quarters made it challenging to wash everything efficiently. Tucking his wings here and there in order to bend down to get his feet. He was in trouble if he ever dropped the soap.

  Clean, he shut off the water, snagged the large white towel hanging on the wall outside of the stall and stepped out onto the plush white rug. Wiping his face, upper body and arms he walked deeper into the room. Stopping he turned to face the mirror and watched through the foggy haze as he snapped his wings out to the sides, water droplets spraying the room.

  Taking out a small wooden box, the size of a shoe box, from a built in shelf to the right of the sink, he flipped the lid. Picking up the silver bands he nestled them into their molded spots in the velvet and then placed the comb in the center. Freshly polished, he was happy to see that it looked good as new. Closing the lid he replaced it back on the shelf before stepping out into his bedroom to the wardrobe on the left wall, opening it to take out a pair of chamber blue jeans that buttoned up at the fly, and a coal gray button down dress shirt. The wide cut on the legs of the pants made room for his black lace up boots. This meal wouldn’t be formal, but it would be a somewhat meaningful one to him and his people.

  As he walked down to the meal hall, the silence surrounding him made even the smallest drip from the fountain in the main cavern echo through the corridors.

  Jessandra saw him coming around the last corner just before she and Illian started across the threshold into the meal hall. Stopping short, she patted Illian's clothed arm, looking to Fallon when he looked up. Nodding, he let her slip away and went inside to sit without her.

  The meal hall was quiet, not a word was spoken, except for the occasional mother telling a child to hush. Full of people, they were all somber as they poured water and juice into glasses and plates were being filled. Illian had explained that this meal would be held in silence for the male lost to the Seelie this night. They had no way of honoring the body, so they honored the memory. It was packed, she noticed. Those who didn’t always make regular meals seemed to have made an exception this evening, no doubt.

  When Fallon stepped up beside her, she gave him a halfhearted smile, which he returned just as sadly.

  He held out his arm to her in escort fashion. When she accepted it, he led her in. Whatever noise was left from simple movements in the room, seized all together as they walked to the farthest table, same as before, and he sat her down before standing beside his own chair.

  All eyes looked on to him, watching intently. He seemed to take his time as he looked around the room slowly, meeting the gazes of his people, once again reminded of their position in the world.

  After meeting the last person’s eyes he nodded and sat down. The room went back to settling in to eat. Clanging of cutlery and glasses being set down a little too hard on the tables could still be heard, but still no conversation.

  Alyss, who was already seated at her left, only gave her sister a fleeting glance as she picked at her food. The steamed asparagus slid and rolled ahead of her fork from one side of her plate to another, knocking into the roasted beef as it did. Jess didn’t have much of an appetite either, but Fallon obviously expected her to eat a whole cow considering the amount of food he had layered on her plate. She did he best not to waste the food, but sadly it just wasn’t in her to clear the plate.

  When Fallon, Kaer and Alyss had finished as well, they all collectively walked out of the hall. Kaer ushered Alyss away and back in the direction of her room while Fallon cocked his head at Jess, inviting her to walk with him.

  He led her past the residences, bypassing the media room and library and down a narrow passageway that Kaer had neglected to show her during her tour.

  After a few moments they stepped into a small cavern with a rough floor. A torch hung on a wall by a metal ring. It was obvious that this particular pocket wasn’t touched by hammers and axes, but rather developed naturally. Some stalagmites and stalactites rose up from the floor and hung down from the ceiling. It wasn’t clear just how big the opening was, but Jess could hear the telltale echo of water dripping somewhere in there. On the wall below the torch were etchings made into the rock. Some looked newer than others. Swirls and lines but no actual pattern. It took her a second but finally she saw it.

  “It’s writing, isn’t it?” She said, a little at awe. She’d never seen such a language or script before.

  “Yes,” he answered, watching her run her fingers over the shallow crevices. He remained silent for a moment until she turned to look at him over her shoulder. He looked to be deep in thought. Her wonderment disappeared and a sinking feeling overcame her.

  Placing her palm on a large group of markings, she looked above to see the whole wall was covered by similar writing. There were even some dark areas where the torch didn’t reach, that she was sure the words stretched to.

  “What are they, Fallon?” She asked, quietly.

  Ominously, he replied,“You know what they are, princess.”

  She did. After a moment’s pause she dropped her hands and turned to face him, tilting her head back to search his face in the orange shadowy light.

  “How many are there?”

  “We lost count,” he said regretfully. “Some were before my time and my father’s,” he went on. “Some of the names have worn or broken off.” The torch light lit his dark expression, telling her the names, though lost, still weighed heavily on him.

  “They aren’t forgotten,” he assured her, and himself.

  Reaching out she touched his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  “No, they aren’t forgotten,” she confirmed.

  Not saying anything more, he stepped around her, taking something of from his pocket as he did. Hearing a mechanical snapping sound, Jess saw that it was some sort of multi-tool that he had opened to the blade function.

  Silently, s
he watched him use it to cut into the rock in an empty space. After a few minutes he blew on the rock’s surface, clearing it of debris before he stepped back to look onto it with her.

  “Karshan,” he said.

  Back outside her room, he was all business with her. “Queen Brianna will be here tomorrow evening to do the ritual.”

  “Oh,” she said anxiously. “That’s fast.”

  “We need to move fast, Jessandra,” he reminded her. Though they didn’t touch, he did sort of hover close to her, his wings, slightly spread outwards, gave them a semblance to privacy from Finn, who was going solo this shift.

  “I know,” she hurried. “It’s just a lot to take in.” She didn’t hide the fact that she was a little freaked.

  “I must pay a visit to King Sylus before she makes her appearance,” he went on.

  “What?” And just like that, her fears on the ceremony were forgotten, replaced by worry for him. “You’re going to court?” She moved to stand closer to him, only to have him bring his wings tighter to his body and shoulders, removing the illusion of privacy and stepped back from her. She stopped her advance and looked up at him, confused.

  “I must,” he said sternly. “Now,” he bowed his head slightly. “I bid you good day. Until this evening.” At that, he turned to walk stiffly back in the direction of his own rooms.

  Still reeling by the news that he’d shared, she slowly stepped into her room and shut the door. Except for her first day at the Nead, she’d never seen him so closed off to her. And as much as she tried to reason it in her head, her heart still felt the wrenching hurt of it.

  She changed into her pajama shirt and shorts before getting under the covers. Though worrisome thoughts still plagued her, it didn’t keep her body from checking out and finding sleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.

  Fallon left with Kaer as soon as the sun had set and darkness covered the sky. The surface dwelling of King Sylus was located in the Hamptons. The flight took about an hour but it allowed Fallon to collect his thoughts.