Rise of the Fomori: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure (Faerie Warriors Book 2)

by J. A. Curtis

  My gaze rose back to his, and I sucked in a breath at the devastation I saw there. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean of all the faeries’ lives they could’ve threatened you with, why’d they choose me?”

  “You and Arius,” I muttered.

  “Arius, I get. Arius, everyone gets. But what makes me so special that Margus ambushed me, supposedly your enemy, and dragged me all the way to the woods behind the manor? Why not choose some other faerie at the Haven you had bonded with? Why me?”

  “Because—”

  A noise from the trees caused me to pause and Dramian’s head to whip around, his eyes narrowing. Fear gripped me. If the faeries of the Haven caught me talking to Dramian, I’d lose them for good.

  “Get into the ravine, now.” I slipped around him and gave him a small shove.

  “I’m not leaving until you answer the question.”

  “Get in the ravine,” I growled, “and I’ll answer your question.”

  For a moment, he looked about to resist. Or he might actually attack. But then he climbed down the side of the ravine, his hands and feet moving along the rocks without making a sound. I breathed easier.

  “One might get the impression you were ashamed to be seen with me.” The sarcasm in his voice floated up from below.

  “I didn’t think you came looking for a fight.”

  He didn’t respond to that, again causing me to doubt.

  “My answer?” he demanded.

  I glanced back toward the trees once, noticing a squirrel scurrying away, and hoped it had created the earlier noise. The jagged parts of the boulder jabbed into my legs as I sat and tried to appear as if I were gazing out at the sunset.

  I bit the inside of my cheek briefly before plunging in. “Jazrael and Dramian had a—thing—for each other in their past lives.”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  “A secret tryst.”

  I risked a peek down at Dramian. His eyes had grown wide. “Oh.” He shifted among the stones. “So that night—”

  “They used you to get to me because I’d already told Nuada that I’d seen us together... in my visions.”

  “Of the past.”

  “Yes.”

  “And so Margus and Nuada thought those visions of us meant something—to you—because you’re Jazrael.”

  I pressed my lips tight before answering. “They must have.”

  Dramian cleared his throat. “Well, I guess that answers that,” he muttered.

  My fingers dug into the stone, and I shut my eyes against the memories of that night. Of my complete and utter failure that led to another’s death. Not just fallen. But dead. Gone for good.

  “I’m sorry, Dramian. I’m sorry about Iris. I’m sorry about all of it,” I blurted, my voice hoarse.

  Silence greeted my apology. My eyes opened, and I peered into the ravine, but Dramian had slipped farther down and was making his way away from me among the stones.

  OUTSIDE A LARGE ORNATE door, a man lingered. He was tall and young, with a square jaw. The man, his eyes like the mists on the mountains, glared at the door, dressed to the hilt in his faerie armor as if it were the most dangerous enemy he had ever encountered. A white eyeless skeleton shrouded in black robes adorned his arm. His body remained still, yet tense, like he expected any moment for the door to make the first sudden attack. When it sat there, unmoving, his shoulders squared, and he raised an arm, charging through the offending doorway.

  After he passed over the threshold, his arm fell to his side. There they sat, the man and the woman, at their finely dressed table. The man wore long-sleeved, regal attire and a crown on his head while a goblet pressed against his lips. The woman, in a soft gown extending to the floor, stared at him with large, pain-filled eyes. The younger man straightened and stepped forward.

  “Mother, Father, I have made my decision,” the young man said. The king set down his goblet, and the queen gripped the table with one hand as if it were a piece of driftwood keeping her from drowning.

  The young man’s body was stiff. “I have decided to give myself up to the Chimera.”

  The king gave a slow nod, and the queen shut her eyes in agony.

  “Lugh, you understand that you will be at the Chimera’s mercy,” the king said to the young man.

  “I do,” Prince Lugh replied.

  “You can never return. You may never see us again,” the king continued.

  Prince Lugh’s gaze flicked to his mother’s face. “I know.”

  “And should the Chimera wish to end your life for good, there will be nothing we can do.”

  Prince Lugh nodded. “It is a risk I will take.”

  The queen slammed a fist onto the table. “No.”

  Both the king and Prince Lugh turned toward her. The king appeared placating, while the prince’s jaw clenched with determination.

  “You are our last surviving son and heir to the throne. We will not know whether you are dead or alive. Every day I will wonder what has become of you. The Chimera asks for too much,” the queen said.

  “He does this for you—” the king began.

  “My son will not risk his life for me!” the queen shouted. She looked to her son. “I don’t care how much of a warrior you are or that you are the glorious hero who saved our people. You are my son. We will find another way.”

  Although the son held himself in an unyielding stance, his voice was soft as he said, “You know there is no other way. I am doing this, Mother. The choice is mine alone to make, and I have decided. Tomorrow morning, I shall offer myself up to the Chimera.”

  This time the queen’s jaw clenched, showing a striking resemblance between mother and son. She stood and stepped up to him, her eyes a storm of helpless anger. “Don’t expect me to show up to your little sacrifice tomorrow,” she hissed, then twirled and stalked from the room.

  Prince Lugh didn’t move. He shut his eyes and said in his soft voice, “I love you too, Mother.”

  The queen hurried through the castle’s halls, the walls a mixture of smooth white stone and wooden vines. She hurried up a long flight of stairs and down a hall, opening two large wooden double doors before carefully shutting them behind her.

  She pressed her forehead against the smooth wood. “My son has chosen. We must ensure this mission succeeds,” the queen said, turning to face the room.

  A figure moved from the shadows. “Your Majesty, do you not think you might be of greater service here, in the castle where I can keep you safe?” Jazrael asked. She wore a gold-plated armband on her arm set with five different-colored gems—purple, yellow, pink, green and red.

  “Nowhere is safe. The fact that they got their hands on the scepter—they are inside the walls.” She shook her head. “No. My son’s willingness to sacrifice himself is proof we are in desperate times. I will not sit around, waiting to be assassinated.”

  “Your Highness, if the king knew—”

  Queen Morrigan rounded on Jazrael, her face red. “The king must NOT discover our plans. This is my decision, and if you betray me, I will never bring you into my confidence again. Now, are you loyal to your queen?”

  Jazrael bowed. “I am loyal, My Queen.”

  The queen pulled out a cloak and held out her hand toward Jazrael. With a frown, Jazrael unbuckled the jeweled band on her arm and handed it to the queen.

  “We must act. Tonight. We have no other choice.”

  They crept through the castle halls, coming to a door guarded by a slumbering man.

  “Soldier! Have you no honor?” Jazrael snapped.

  The sleeping soldier with the phoenix on his arm snapped to attention, blinking drowsiness out of his eyes. When he saw Jazrael, his cheeks grew red.

  “Sorry, my lady. It shall not happen again.”

  “Indeed, it will not. I relieve you, and perhaps we will see what your brothers think of your careless behavior.”

  Now the blood drained from his face. He licked dry lips. “My lady, th
e Forbidden is not to be left unprotected.”

  “Are you blind? I am here. Now go, before I decide to recommend your removal from the Royal Guard.”

  Iris’s eyes widened, and he bowed. “Yes, my lady.” He scurried off into the night.

  As soon as he’d left, Queen Morrigan slipped into the hall.

  “Do you think that was necessary?”

  Jazrael nodded. “Now he will dread any mention of this night. If he doesn’t get punished, he will view it as a mercy.”

  They stood in front of the closed door. The queen reached into her cloak and lifted Jazrael’s armband from her pocket. The five jewels glistened in the dull light.

  “Thank you for keeping these safe for me,” she said.

  “They have been useful. Especially the emerald,” Jazrael responded.

  “Tonight, it is the amethyst that shall aid us.”

  Queen Morrigan waved her hand over a pink stone set in the middle of the band and muttered, “May the Mother Goddess Danu release this protective enchantment.”

  A pink light emanated from the stone, and the queen swung her hand toward the door. The edges of the wood glowed pink and then faded.

  “It should be safe to enter,” the queen said. She stepped toward the door, but Jazrael cut in front of her.

  “I will go first,” she said.

  Queen Morrigan raised an eyebrow. “You do not trust that I performed the incantation correctly? Jazrael, you wound me.”

  “Forgive me, my queen, but it is my duty.”

  Queen Morrigan motioned toward the door. Gripping her sword, Jazrael threw it wide and charged through.

  “You are safe to enter,” Jazrael’s voice sounded from the room beyond.

  The queen smirked and stepped over the threshold. The room was small and round. Instead of white marble lining the walls, concrete slabs gave it a plain, confining feel. The only light shone from the open doorway.

  A wooden dais jutted up in the center of the room. The queen slid a tiny vial of liquid from her sleeve and poured it over the wood, muttering under her breath. The top of the dais split open, revealing a lidless stone box. With care, the queen lifted a small glass bottle. Inside, swirled a blue substance.

  “Two oracles gave up the Sight, so we may access the future and the past in order to protect the Otherworld. It is time we use it to do just that.”

  She smashed the bottle against the stone floor. A blue mist circled upward, surrounding the queen with smoky tentacles. Then Queen Morrigan breathed the mist into herself. Her eyes flashed with a brilliant light before returning to their normal hue.

  She pulled a second bottle from the dais, this one filled with a white mist. “Now you.”

  Jazrael threw the bottle to the floor with force, shattering the glass. The mist rose, surrounding her until she inhaled, her eyes consumed briefly with a milky whiteness.

  “It is done,” the queen said. “Tomorrow we must pass through the portal with the others.” After exiting the room, the queen ran her hand over the pink gemstone in the armband, again.

  “May the Mother Goddess Danu grant the protection I require,” she said.

  The pink light rose out of the stone, and the queen directed it toward the door. It, again, glowed pink.

  “Now nobody will know what we have done until it is too late,” the queen said.

  “It is a solemn responsibility to look into the future, my queen.”

  “That it is. But we must stop the Fomori whatever the cost.”

  8

  Getting Help

  Mina

  “Good friends will be there when you need them.”—Nana

  ARIUS SHOOK ME AWAKE. “It’s time to leave.”

  I sat up, the tent walls bulging and relaxing with the breeze, the vision fresh in my mind. After packing, I must have fallen asleep.

  For the first time, I’d seen the king with the queen. And their son Lugh, who was giving himself up as some sort of sacrifice. What was the Chimera they spoke of?

  I grabbed my backpack, looping my arms through the straps so it rested against my chest, my mind still processing.

  The queen, Jazrael, and the strange bottles of mist—had we somehow gained our abilities? I thought they were innate to each faerie. Like every faerie possessed one and always had one since—well, forever—but from my last two visions, that didn’t seem to be the case—about our abilities or faerie guardians.

  Arius and I exited the tent, and the darkness of night surrounded us. The light from the moon revealed the faeries lined up in front of the manor’s remains, Palon at their head, to see us off. I held back an eye roll. Who had decided we needed this much fanfare? The faeries didn’t normally line up when we left the Haven.

  I stepped up to Palon. “Keep a close watch on Thaya.”

  He bowed. “I shall, my lady.”

  I released my faerie guardian in the form of a griffin. It stood in the grass, the large eagle head held high. I ran a hand over its soft feathers while Arius climbed onto its back.

  Wolpertinger swooped in from the trees and landed on the ground next to me. “Oh! Are we going? I’m so excited to be going! This is my first time going anywhere—well, by invitation. And I’m so thrilled you asked me to come along!”

  I glanced down at Wolpertinger and smiled. “Thanks for being willing to come.” I wanted him with us in case I needed to send a message to the Haven.

  Straightening my shoulders, I faced the faeries. “I said I would do what was best for the queen. But I also promise to do what is best for you. I hope you will trust me—us—to make the right decision.”

  I climbed onto my griffin, settling in front of Arius. His warm arms wrapped around me, urging me against his chest. I leaned back, hiding a smile. Flying with Arius was my favorite thing.

  The griffin’s large wings spread, and after a running start, we soared into the sky.

  The night was chill, and the stars twinkled above as we flew toward civilization. Arius’s arms helped ward off the cold. He wore the black hood of his sweatshirt over his ears, but I kept the hood of my gray sweatshirt down, enjoying his warmth, his earthy scent. Most of our human clothes had remained in the armory below the manor with the armor and weapons and had escaped burning.

  Wolpertinger flew next to us, talking nonstop. A couple times, I felt Arius tense, and I suspected the flying rabbit’s endless chatter got on his nerves.

  As the miles passed by below, I worried over Dramian. This was the second time I’d seen him since Iris’s death, but it was clear that losing his brother still ate at him. I shifted in Arius’s arms. The ramifications of that night were still eating at all of us. But Iris’s death was the one thing that was irreversible.

  Eventually, we soared over a soccer field and landed in a small grove of trees. The park was familiar. I used to travel to it from Spokane with my soccer league to play games on the enormous field. A hidden ally leading away from the park was a shortcut to my friend Kris’s house.

  “This place is great!” Wolpertinger said as he sniffed around the bushes.

  We dismounted.

  Arius adjusted his backpack filled with the things he’d found in Nuada’s office and stared at the stump of a tree nearby. Two months ago, his golem had thrown Margus’s wyvern into that tree, snapping it in half. When Margus had only dropped to one knee from the impact, I realized we were up against someone much stronger than I’d known possible. His parting words, the Fomori are on the rise, still haunted me.

  “You’ve known about the Fomori this whole time, and you never told me,” I accused Arius, slipping my arms out of the straps of my backpack. I unzipped the front pocket and took out two small folded cloths. I handed one to him.

  He unfolded the cloth, revealing the little red Rowan berries that granted us extra energy. “You never asked.” He popped a berry into his mouth.

  “Because I thought if you knew, you’d tell me!”

  “I’m not hiding things from you. If you’re curious about somethi
ng, just say so.” His jaw clenched once. “But...”

  “But what?”

  “Everything I know came from her,” he spat in the grass. “I have no way of knowing what’s true.”

  “I get that. Just tell me.”

  He sighed and handed the mostly uneaten berries to me. I ate one and energy coursed through me. I returned both of the berry-filled cloths to my backpack.

  “The Fomori were the Tuatha de Danann’s greatest enemy,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “We are the Tuatha de Danann.”

  “I thought we were faeries.”

  “Faeries, faeriekind, are common nomenclature. But who are we? What’s our race? We are the most powerful creatures. The Tuatha de Danann. The only group to rival us in power were the Fomori. Their leader, Balor, was powerful beyond belief. He had this third eye covered by seven flaps of cloth and—”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “Flaps of cloth, like on his head?”

  His dark eyes watched me. “You’ve seen him. In your visions.”

  I let the air out in a slow gush. “Briefly.”

  “Each flap of cloth that lifted brought another round of destruction upon his enemies. None could stand before him.”

  “What happened?”

  “Queen Morrigan was a great sorceress. She could imbue objects with the most powerful magic. She gave her son, Prince Lugh, a spear she filled with the power to defeat Balor. But it had to hit his third eye dead center. And only after the flaps had lifted.” He paused. “You know that faeries can only be permanently destroyed by other creatures of magic?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. Iris’s still form floated into my thoughts.

  Arius nodded. “A lot of faeries gave their lives so that Prince Lugh could achieve that perfect shot. According to Nu—supposedly my father and mother were among them.”

  My eyes widened. I searched Arius’s face for a reaction, but he kept it carefully blank.

  “Prince Lugh succeeded,” Arius continued. “Balor was destroyed, and the Fomori were stripped of their magic and banished to live among the humans so as to never be a threat to us again.”