by J. A. Curtis
Mina shoved the charm into her pocket, and we continued to the bus stop. She used some of our leftover money to pay the bus fare.
The sounds of the bus mostly drowned out the faint music that played, and Mina stared out the window. Her leg jostled so much that my seat shook. Her knee bumped my hand, but I didn’t move. My throat felt tight as I let my fingers rest against her kneecap.
Her movement stilled, and she turned large eyes on me.
“You sure this is what you want to do?” I asked.
Her head bobbed once in a quick nod. Her eyes dropped to my hand on her knee, then moved to the window. But her leg no longer jerked, so I left my hand.
The nursing home was a flat one-story building. Flowers hung in pots from the columns. I stared at the pots, uncertain why someone would take flowers out of their natural state to hang them in the air. Mina’s thumb jabbed a button near the door.
“How may I help you?” A woman’s voice came from a small-boxed speaker next to the door.
“My name is Jazrael. I’m here to visit my grandma,” Mina said.
The door buzzed, allowing Mina and me to enter. She walked right up to the desk and picked up a pen. Now there’d be a record of our visit.
She motioned to me, and I followed her down the maze of hallways to a door that stood partially ajar.
Her hand raised, then fell to her side. She backed against the wall, her other hand tangled in her hair.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she said.
Agree with her. Take her away from here.
But that was not what she wanted.
I shoved the door wide. It swung with a small creak.
“Who is it? Who’s there? Helen?” An assertive woman’s voice came through the door.
I tilted my head toward the open doorway. “She’s waiting for you.”
“Who’s waiting? Tell them to come in dagnabit. Don’t be shy. I don’t get very many visitors these days.”
Mina’s nana didn’t have any problem hearing. The sides of my mouth pulled upward. The blunt way the old woman spoke reminded me of Mina.
“Yeah, Mina, don’t be shy,” I muttered.
Her eyes sparked, as I knew they would, when she sensed the challenge in my voice. Her shoulders squared, and she marched into the room.
A woman with gray curled hair sat in a high-backed chair next to a bed. A curtain split the room in two. Creases of loose skin covered the woman’s face. Her thinness and the slight tremor of her hands bespoke a frailty I wasn’t used to. She was, by far, one of the oldest-looking people I had ever seen.
Her wrinkly face split into a wide grin the instant she saw Mina.
“Oh! What a pleasant surprise!”
Mina crept forward. “Hi, Nana. I-I’ve missed you.”
The woman’s arms opened wide. “I’ve missed you too, darling. Come and give your nana a hug.”
I heard a soft sob.
I spun from the doorway and stumbled down the hall away from the scene. A deep ache attacked my chest. The warmth flowing between them from the moment Mina stepped into the room was both beautiful and hurtful. I’d never experienced that level of intimacy. Not with Nuada. Not with anyone.
The faeries and I were close in the way that could only come from spending an entire life caring for someone. But we were also soldiers. Expectation, logic, and duty must always temper emotion and warmth. We were one in the sense that there was something bigger to tie us all together—the cause. For so long, that cause had been fighting Dramian and the other dark faeries. Now that cause was gone.
But there was no cause tying Mina and her Nana together. Whatever they had, I envied. I wanted to experience it for myself.
But I didn’t know how to get it.
Didn’t know if I deserved it.
11
Joining the Royal Guard
Mina
FAND PACED BACK AND forth inside the large tent, muttering to herself.
“What was I thinking? This is impossible... impossible... even if I’m accepted... there’s no way—I’m leaving while I still can.”
She marched to the slitted opening between the tent flaps, but Margus entered, stepping into the sheltered confines. Forced back, Fand allowed him in.
“I’m not doing this,” she snapped before he could speak. “They just want to use me as some sacrificial lamb—”
“I put my reputation on the line for you, Fand. Vouching for you. An outsider. Don’t you dare make me look like a fool.”
She froze, her mouth open. “I—you—I’m in?”
“You’ll be the newest member of the Royal Guard. All you have to do is go out there, take the oath, and pass the test of bonding—”
“And when I can’t speak the oath? What will happen then?”
“You will be destroyed on the spot.”
“See! It’s not possible—”
Margus held up a small vial filled with a sickly yellow liquid. “Did Bres not promise you a way around the oath problem?”
Fand eyed the liquid. “What is that?”
“The potion that allows faeries to do the impossible.”
“Liar’s Brew? That’s a myth.”
“Not a myth. Extremely rare. It works, if you must know. I just proved it for you.”
She took the vial from him. “You lied to the Royal Guard and the royal family?”
Margus’s eyes flashed with no remorse. “As easily as breathing.”
She removed the cap and sniffed. Her nose wrinkled. “Hopefully, the taste will be better than the smell. How long does it last?”
“Long enough for you to take your oath and finish the ceremony. After that, you will be on your own.”
She nodded, then pressed the vial to her lips, but paused, uncertainty painted across her features before her hand tightened on the glass. Determination filled her eyes. “I shall never forget you, Aunt Uaine.” She upended the contents into her mouth.
“Remember, three revolutions. Three revolutions around the sun for you to make yourself indispensable and above suspicion. Then we make our move. The scepter first. Then we are left to take the queen.”
Fand looked down at the empty vial in her hand. “I am an outsider. I will never be above suspicion. I will be the first they look to.”
“The queen’s faerie knight, Jazrael of the High Ones, she will be our greatest obstacle to getting to the queen. She is clever and a skilled warrior. And vigilant. One of the best.”
Her chin raised, and she smirked. “Has she slain a dragon?”
“Do not underestimate her,” Margus said sharply. “She has the queen’s ear. Get on her good side, and earn her trust. If you can convince her to vouch for you, then you will be above suspicion.” He glanced out of the tent. “It is time. We will not speak of this again.”
Fand walked out of the tent and before the line of faerie soldiers lined up in the early morning sun. They stood on a large platform facing her. Behind them on the same platform, in raised seating, sat the king and queen, flanked by Prince Lugh and a young woman. The young woman had long hair that glistened in the sunlight. She wore a sleeveless dress with a beautiful porcelain unicorn etched on her arm.
In the shaded part of the platform, directly behind the queen, stood Jazrael, hair pulled back into a warrior's braid and a fierce look on her face as she observed Fand. The two women’s eyes met briefly.
Arius descended from the platform, tall and soldier-like, the image of a golem etched on his arm.
“Do not move,” Arius said.
Suddenly the golem rose up, large and looming, right in front of Fand. It bent over her. A massive rock fist settled in the space above her head, ready to pound her into nothing.
Fand pursed her lips.
“State your title,” Arius said.
“Fand of the Lonely Wildwoods, Warrior of Fire, Protector of the Outer Realm.”
“Speak the oath.”
Fand’s mouth opened, and she drew in a breath. “I, Fand of
the Lonely Wildwoods, do hereby pledge my heart, body, soul, this life, and all future lives to the protection of King Dagda and Queen Morrigan and the rest of the royal family and swear to fight to preserve the royal lands and all the Otherworld. That my allegiance to the king and queen shall never waver, and I shall willingly give my life in their defense.”
“This you so pledge?”
“This I so pledge.”
“A speedy destruction awaits you should you dishonor this oath.”
Fand bowed, her eyes closing in a sign of relief for the briefest of seconds. “Let it so be.”
Arius’s golem vanished and appeared back on his arm. “You will now be bonded.”
A flash of anticipation came to Fand’s face. Arius stepped back onto the platform while a woman approached with a rectangular strip of wood in her hands. A warrior elf-man with a sword was on the woman’s arm. Tily.
“Your blood. On the wood,” Tily said, sounding bored.
Fand took her sword and, gritting her teeth, pressed the blade into her hand until red dripped from her fingers. She placed her hand over the runes etched on the board. The runes glowed hot, and Fand snatched her hand back. She pulled a cloth from the side pocket on her belt and wrapped it around her injured hand.
The wood disintegrated, creating a black cloud that billowed and grew.
Great dark bat-like wings rose out of the cloud. They flapped, and the cloud dispersed. In its place crouched a wild, ferocious beast. A long scorpion tail with a tuft of quills on the end. A human-like face with three rows of teeth set back in a red quivering mane.
Fand’s eyes widened. “A manticore,” she said. A smile stretched her face.
“Now,” Tily said. “Tame it.”
Fand’s smile disappeared. Her eyes widened in fear. Tily leaned closer.
“Watch out for the tail. The spikes will kill you.” With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Fand to face the beast alone.
The humanesque face opened an abnormally large mouth, baring three rows of wickedly pointed teeth. A low growl emitted from the beast. Sweat poured down the sides of Fand’s face. She drew her sword.
The tail swung up, and Fand lunged to the side as three quills shot out of the tuft at the end. The quills embedded with a nasty thud into the ground. The manticore swung toward Fand, who clutched her sword. The creature crouched, preparing to leap.
Fand raced forward, as the cat-like creature launched into the air, diving under the manticore’s attack. She ducked and rolled, coming up onto her knees behind the beast. The tail slammed down to catch Fand, but she raised her sword and sliced into its underside as it fell.
The manticore yowled and lifted its tail away. With swiftness, the beast curled around and was on top of Fand in an instant.
Fand gasped as the beast’s claws tore down her arm. Long red gashes filled with blood. Its three rows of teeth came at her—its humanesque face filled with a sickly hunger—but she crawled under the beast and crouched beneath its belly. Its pronged tongue shot out, whipping into her hair as the beast attempted to get a taste of her.
She swung her sword and caught the inside of the beast’s right front leg. The beast hissed, and Fand sliced again at the underside of its still-raised paw. She sliced the tip of her sword shallowly down the beast's belly, not deep, but enough to cause pain. Great drops of red dripped onto Fand’s head, staining her pale hair crimson.
The manticore backed off, limping and whimpering. Its blood smeared in the dirt, leaving a trail leading back to Fand. She rose, sword pointed at the manticore. She took a step toward the beast. Its head lowered and dropped to its belly, the tail lying on the ground.
Fand lowered her sword. She lay her hand on the trembling creature’s forehead. “You belong to me now.”
The manticore’s eyes shut and then blurred, disappearing and becoming an image on Fand’s uninjured arm. Fand touched her tattooed bicep, a look of wonder on her face.
Arius stood in front of her. “You and your faerie guardian are now bonded. You will swear to honor this creature’s sacrifice by using it to fulfill the sacred oath you have made this day.”
Fand bowed. “I so swear.”
12
Human or Faerie
Mina
“Never forget who you are.”—Nana
THE VISION OF FAND from the night before haunted me. How the loss of her aunt propelled her to action. The woman had taken on the name Nuada long before I came along in an attempt to keep me in the dark about her betrayal of the faeries to their enemies—the Fomori. She was the reason Jazrael had to hide the queen. She was the reason my past life, Jazrael, had fallen fifteen years ago. Well, her and Margus. And Iris.
But it wasn’t any of those things that bothered me. The problem with my visions was that they made Fand seem so... so understandable. And even though I understood why Arius could have conflicted feelings over the woman who had raised him and then threatened to kill him, I didn’t want to sympathize with the woman who’d so callously tried to coerce me at the risk of Arius’s life.
I sat in front of the mirror in Kris’s bathroom. Kris leaned over me, her face so close, it blurred. She laid a case of ten different sized brushes out on the counter like some sort of surgeon needing an exact instrument. I held back the instinctive eye roll. Kris had insisted on doing my make-up, and when Kris became insistent, I knew I’d better go along.
“Are you almost done?” I muttered.
“I’m getting there. Hold still.” She tickled my face with a brush she swiped across my cheekbones.
Arius was downstairs eating breakfast. I was grateful he had agreed to come with me to visit Nana last night. His presence and support, though reluctant, had been comforting.
The visit with Nana had been bittersweet. It was hard to see her sometimes get stuck on one topic, circling around herself in a loop. Even though I wasn’t in denial about her condition anymore, seeing the woman I had looked up to for so long, in her frail and forgetful state, was new and painful.
But Arius was right. I loved her, and I’d always be there for her, no matter what.
Corbin and my parents flashed through my mind. I pressed my lips together, earning the stink eye from Kris who was about to apply a layer of lip gloss.
“Sorry,” I said, unpursing my lips.
Kris went to work.
I could visit Nana because my parents would never believe her if she claimed their dead daughter came to visit. My Nana’s condition gave me the excuse I needed. But I couldn’t do that with my brother and parents. Letting them believe I was dead was best for them.
Could not being around for my family, in a way, be like being there for them? Better to save them pain, no matter how much it cost me to give them up.
“There. You look great,” Kris said, satisfied.
I took in my reflection. It had been kind of nice not to worry about make-up when I ended up with the faeries. And while part of me wanted to apply soap and water the moment I saw myself, another part actually kinda loved it.
We gathered our things for school, picked up Arius from the kitchen, and headed for the car.
I peeked at Arius. He had said nothing about my new look. Not that I expected him to. I didn’t look like a warrior general right now, but considering we were pretending to be everyday teenagers, he probably figured that didn’t matter.
“So, what is the plan with Chels?” Kris asked from her spot next to me in the driver's seat as she backed out of the driveway, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Umm...” I said.
Kris sighed. “Look, I’m willing to help you guys out, but my parents won’t be gone forever, and considering we almost had a run in with my brother last night, I think it would be best if we had a plan going forward.”
I nodded. It wasn’t wise to waste time attending a high school without some idea of what we wanted to accomplish.
“If we figured out where she lives, we could approach her outside of school,” I said.
&
nbsp; “We can follow her today when she leaves,” Arius said.
Kris shook her head. “And what are you going to do when you go to her house? Explain that you stalked her all the way from school? I’m sure that will go over well. I’m sure she’ll listen to you then.”
I huffed at her obvious sarcasm. “Do you have any bright ideas?”
Kris’s eyes met mine before concentrating back on the road. “Arius could ask Chels to Homecoming.”
He could—what? “No.”
“It’s only two days away. She will have to give Arius her address so he can pick her up,” Kris said.
“If it’s two days away, she must have someone she’s already going with.” I was trying really hard to sound reasonable. This was a horrible plan.
“Of course she does. But this is Chels we’re talking about, and Arius is the hot new boy. You saw the way she was flirting with him yesterday. If he asks, she’ll say yes.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’s not asking.”
Kris wrenched the steering wheel to the right, jerking us onto the side of the road, and slammed on the brakes.
“Arius, get out—please,” Kris said.
“Why?” Arius asked. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
“Just give Mina and me a moment to talk, alone.”
Arius raised an eyebrow, then looked at me. I rolled my eyes. “We should walk from here, anyway. I’ll be out in a minute.”
He frowned but got out of the car.
After his door shut, Kris turned on me. “Stop reacting for a second and think. You came here to find her. Well, you’ve found her, and Arius has the in you need to take it to the next level. You want to talk to her and convince her to come with you, then she has to at least like one of you. Set your feelings aside, and let’s do this.”
“Arius will not pander to that... that...”
“Are you speaking for Arius now? Give me one good reason this is a poor plan.”
I glared at her. She was right. I knew she was right, but I still hated her plan. And she knew why, I could tell, but I wouldn‘t be forced to say it. Not here. Not now.
