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

by J. A. Curtis

  Niamh looked eager. “Then we may have a chance.”

  DRAMIAN ENTERED THE queen’s tent. He glanced around at Chels, Arius and me already waiting inside. Arius and I stood next to each other, while Chels lounged on her blankets.

  “We aren’t having another argument over kissing, are we?” he asked. “Because the last time didn’t end well.”

  “If I recall, you were the one to instigate that argument,” Arius grumbled.

  “And you were the one to escalate it, dear brother,” Dramian shot back in his typical smooth way.

  Chels grimaced, looking at me. “I’m not sure whether to envy you or pity you.”

  “This is more about their relationship with each other than about me,” I stated.

  Arius glowered at me, while Dramian folded his arms with a loud “humph.”

  “I talked with Princess Niamh,” I said, getting straight to the point before our conversation devolved into further uncomfortableness.

  “You did?” Arius took a step toward me. “What did she say?”

  “Who?” Dramian demanded.

  “Princess?” Chels mouthed. She had gone a shade of green.

  “She’s Queen Morrigan’s daughter,” I said, realizing this may be a revelation that could be hard for our queen to swallow. “Princess Niamh, and we have a plan.”

  Dramian smirked. “Congratulations, Your Majesty.” He performed one of his mock bows. “You’re a mother.”

  “A plan to what?” There was a wariness in Arius’s voice that surprised me. Something unreadable was held in those dark eyes.

  “A plan to strike a blow against the Fomori,” I said. And I explained to them everything that Niamh told me about the Otherworld and about the scepter and the queen. Relief coursed through me to have the answers, to be sharing the information with them. And with Niamh to help us, we might have a chance at keeping Chels alive and fulfilling our mission.

  “We can’t fully plan it until we have more information, however,” I finished.

  I turned to Dramian. “I need you and Nerime to scout the area around their base without getting caught. We need to know what landforms we can use to our advantage.”

  Dramian huffed. “I see. Send off the untrustworthy one with a babysitter so he doesn’t overhear the actual plans.”

  “We’ll explain the plans when you get back. We need this information. And Nerime can use her artistic ability to create maps that we can use.”

  “As you command, General,” he said before exiting the tent.

  “What if she’s lying?” Chels said. “What if she claims to be my daughter to earn your trust.”

  “Faeries can’t lie,” Arius said.

  “Well, maybe she found a way around it,” Chels snapped. Her fingernails dug into her blanket.

  A twinge of annoyance twisted inside of me. Niamh was trying to protect Chels, but Her Majesty would rather be in denial about having children. I had attempted to speak with Niamh about how we could help her escape her captivity, but she had insisted that her mother came first. The contrast between the two royals was stark.

  “Sorry, Chels, I can confirm from my own visions that Queen Morrigan had children. Arius knows it too,” I said.

  She pressed her lips into a thin line.

  Arius was frowning at me. “What’s the plan?” he demanded.

  “We will need Dramian and Nerime’s report to plan a lot of the specifics, but here’s what I’ve got:

  Arius and Dramian will lead the faeries in a couple of diverting attacks that will draw out the Fomori. Meanwhile, I’ll use my faerie guardian and the green emerald to sneak into the Fomori’s base. They have these discs that can keep a faerie from accessing their faerie guardian. I’ve collected a couple. I’ll go in, use my cloaking abilities to get close to Margus and Bres, and make them fall. Taking Bres and Margus out will set the Fomori back and help even the odds.”

  “That’s quite risky. Do you think you can take them both?” Chels asked.

  I nodded. “Niamh and I discussed it,” I said. “My faerie guardian will get close to Margus disguised as—”

  “I think we should send someone else in. They can use the emerald if Mina shows them how,” Arius said.

  What? I looked at Arius. Had he just said that?

  “You don’t think Mina can do it?” Chels asked.

  His eyes met mine briefly before flicking away. “No, she can as well as anyone. But like you said, this is risky, and the question is can we afford to risk our general and queen’s protector on this one mission. If it fails, we will lose her for good.”

  Chels nodded. “That’s a good point.”

  It was not a good point. Why was he doing this? I should have known this would happen. Arius pretended to support me, but he didn’t. Not really.

  My hands clenched. “I can do this.”

  But Chels was looking at Arius. “Who would you suggest we send?”

  My gaze darted between Chels and Arius as I sensed a shift in the air. What was happening?

  Arius stepped forward. “I’ll do it. I’ll go in.”

  Something ripped through me at the thought. I wouldn’t let Arius put himself in such danger. If something happened to him...

  My heart shriveled.

  I scrambled for a good reason to stop him from taking my place. “No, we need your fighting skills to make sure the faeries remain protected.”

  “There are others who can do that. Palon—”

  “You’re not going. I am.”

  “I don’t think either of you should go,” Chels cut in. “The faeries need both of you too much. Who else can we send? Someone capable.”

  Arius and I glared at each other.

  “Arius?” Chels pressed.

  “We could send in Docina. Her ability to hear projected thoughts would give us the ability to abort the mission if something goes wrong. Mina can direct the diversion—make sure everything works in tandem. If we were to put this plan into action, that would be our best option for success,” Arius said.

  Docina? Was he serious? Sure, Docina was a fierce fighter but—I pictured her honest eyes, her determined stance, her contagious smile—no. Just no.

  “I like that. Mina, you can show Docina how to use the emerald,” Chels said.

  “Not a chance,” I snapped. “I’m going in. This is my plan.”

  “This may be your plan, but you need the faeries to go along with it. Are you sure you can do that without him backing you on it?” Chels challenged.

  I turned to Arius. But like when I’d looked to him to back me with Thaya or when I’d needed him to come with me for our supply run—I could see in the set of his jaw, I couldn’t depend on him.

  “I will back you on this plan,” Arius said. “But only if we send Docina. You explain the layout, how the discs work—”

  “She doesn’t know what Bres looks like!”

  “Then describe him! All she needs to know is what his faerie guardian is, and she’d be able to identify him. She knows what Margus looks like, and that will get her in the door!”

  “Why don’t you believe I can—”

  “If you're so sure of this plan, why can’t you send someone else in your place?”

  “Hey! Hey!” Chels yelled. “Just announce our plans to the entire camp, why don’t you? Heaven knows what would happen if Margus were nearby.”

  Arius opened his mouth to respond, but Chels plowed ahead.

  “Get out of here, both of you. Take a break. Get some air.”

  Arius’s mouth snapped shut, and without another glance at me, he stormed from the tent. I exited, not ready to let it go, but he was running, disappearing into the forest.

  Not this time, Arius.

  I charged into the woods after him.

  Releasing my stag, I jumped on its back and ran him down, cutting in front of him, forcing him to grind to a stop.

  “What was that all about?” I snarled, dismounting and pulling my stag back on my arm. “You undermined me
back there.”

  But Arius stiffened, coming to attention. “I said what I needed to say. As it turns out, the queen agrees with me,” he said, his voice formal and emotionless.

  “I am the one who needs to sneak in. I have the skill, the experience with shape shifting, and you want to send Docina?”

  “Docina is a skilled warrior,” Arius said. “And I’m sure with a few tutorials she can get used to using the gemstone.”

  “You know that is not the only reason I would be a better pick. And now you just want me to stand by while everyone else risks their lives.”

  “You are our general, Mina, generals are meant to hang back. Direct the troops, think on their feet, and give directions as the battle changes. There is no more important responsibility. You direct and others take the risk. That’s how it’s supposed to go. But with your almost compulsory need to not only direct, but to also take on all the risk...” He shook his head. “We’re lucky you’ve lasted as long as you have.”

  An ache twisted in my chest. “So I’m supposed to sit back and let Docina risk her life implementing my plan.”

  “Let others take some of the risk for once,” he said. “It doesn’t always have to be you.”

  “No. Nobody’s life is expendable for a greater cause. Not yours, not the queen’s, and not Docina’s.”

  Arius was in my face, his dark eyes burning with emotion. “And what about you, Mina? What about your life? You’re always so ready to risk everything for everyone else. Is your life the only one worthy enough for the sacrifice? When does your life matter?”

  I swallowed. The experience of the blood being sucked out of me, my fear of death. My desire to live. I wanted my life to matter. It did matter to me.

  “You think I want to be risking my life all the time?” I asked. “I don’t. I want to live.”

  “Then why are you like this?”

  Why did I always have to risk my life? This was my plan. Mine and Niamh’s. She was relying on me to succeed, to protect her mother. And Docina, she was my friend. I couldn’t ask her to risk her life. I had to be the one to see it through.

  “I... I have to keep everyone safe,” I said.

  “If you think this is heroic, it isn’t.” He touched my arms lightly, hesitantly. He pressed his forehead against mine and let out a long, slow breath that brushed against my face and rustled the ends of my hair. “This once, let someone else take the risk,” he breathed. “Please.”

  This was more than advice. He was making a personal request. Arius had never said please to me before. But I couldn’t live with the guilt of another life lost because of me—like Iris. My plan, my orders—it would be my fault for whatever happened to Docina. Whatever happened to all of them.

  I pulled back. “I need to think. You should go.”

  Arius turned to leave, but paused, glancing over his shoulder. “The queen has decided and is not likely to change her mind. You may have to get used to not playing the lead in the upcoming battle, whether you like it or not.”

  28

  Magical Plague

  Mina

  SWORDS CLASHED TOGETHER in a flurry of movement. Fand pushed into the attack, her muscles straining, strands of hair matted to the side of her face. Her opponent, Jazrael, blocked, then pushed back, her footing sure, her strokes confident, even methodical. She rushed in, taking Fand down with a hard, high stroke, followed by a quick swipe of her foot against Fand’s legs. Fand fell to the ground with a loud grunt.

  Jazrael held her sword to Fand’s chest, then stepped back, offering Fand her hand.

  “I think I lasted longer that time,” Fand said, taking Jazrael’s proffered hand and rising to her feet.

  Jazrael sheathed her sword. “You are clever, but your technique could use some refining,” Jazrael said. “Now that you have access to them, I recommend training with the Masters of the High Arts.”

  Fand wiped sweat from her brow and gave a nod to show she acknowledged the advice. “Then train, I shall. When I return.”

  “You have an assignment to investigate reports of dragon activity near your hometown, is that correct?”

  Again, Fand nodded, a solemn expression on her face. “The soldiers of the outer realms are moving that direction, but I am to assess any need for air support and to discover which direction the dragons are moving.”

  Jazrael grabbed a cloth from a stack on a table along the side of the room. “You have proven yourself a capable fighter,” Jazrael said. “I wish you luck.”

  Fand returned to the barracks, where she gathered a few things into a small pouch attached to the belt at her waist for her trip. She no longer wore the worn leather armor from her time protecting the outer realm, but had acquired the darker more polished russet-colored of the Royal Guard. She reported to the front palace gates. Iris lounged on a chair but rose to his feet when she approached. He had a large fiery bird on his arm.

  “How are your brothers always in the middle of the action, and yet you always wind up with guard duty?” Fand asked.

  Iris scowled, the tattoo of the phoenix twitching on his arm. “You looking for a duel, Fand?”

  “Far from it. I know you deserve to be in the Royal Guard as much as any of them. It just seems a little unfair, does it not? Others can lead when they are given the chance.”

  “Why are you here?”

  Fand showed the rolled parchment with the royal seal. Iris called to the guards to raise the gates on the inner and outer side of the wall, letting Fand through.

  The inner gate dropped closed behind her.

  “You’re right,” Iris’s voice came from the other side of the gate. “It seems unfair.”

  Fand smiled before passing through to the other side of the wall. She released her manticore. The gigantic creature flapped its large wings and swished its long scorpion-like tail back and forth.

  She climbed onto its back, and they rose into the sky. She had to land once to check in at another post before flying on.

  Trees of all kinds sped beneath, their leaves bathed in wild multi-colored hues. Greens and pinks, reds and oranges, even blues and magentas.

  She veered to the east.

  Her manticore set down with an easy, feline agility in a small clearing. She hadn’t gone five feet into the woods before two armored faeries holding swords surrounded her—their arms bare of any faerie guardian tattoos.

  “What are you doing here, Fand?” one asked.

  “I’m here to see Bres.”

  The guard’s half-red eyes took in the manticore. His sword trembled in his hand. “Bres is busy. Too busy for recent recruits like you.” Even though the beast obviously terrified him, he seemed determined to put forth more bravado than he felt.

  “Calm it,” the other guard said. “Fand is one of us.”

  “I can’t believe Bres is handing our movement over to people like her. Look at her eyes. She’s not like us—she hasn’t lost everything.”

  “Fand?” A tall woman with dark hair and dark eyes with a tinge of red approached.

  “Keera,” Fand said, looking relieved as she moved her manticore forward and left the guards behind. “I’m here to see Bres. I cannot stay long.”

  Keera tensed at the manticore’s approach. “I’m afraid Bres is busy doing something quite... significant at the moment.”

  Fand’s shoulders slumped, but she glanced over at Keera. “How does Bres have a faerie guardian? That should be impossible.”

  “The dark unicorn.” Keera shrugged. “He said he got it from a friend. I assumed someone at the palace snuck it to him.”

  Even though she looked wary, there was also a spark of envy in Keera’s eyes as she took in the enormous creature Fand rode on. “Though, if all goes to plan, we shall all have our own, soon enough.”

  Fand nodded, but then her head shot up. “What is that?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Someone is screaming.”

  Keera’s eyes grew large. “You can hear that?”

  “
My manticore can,” her jaw set. “They need help.”

  Fand and her manticore charged ahead, past other gathered faeries, who watched in shock as Fand approached an old rundown stone structure that looked similar to a giant tomb. A heavy, rotted wooden door covered the entrance. Vines that used to cover it lay to the side.

  “No wait, Fand!” Keera called, running after her.

  Fand threw herself off her beast and charged up the steps. She raised her sword, prepared to hack the door down, but then lowered it. The door was not barred or locked. She thrust it open, rushing down a long flight of steps into the darkness.

  She slowed, her hand trailing along the moss-and-grime-covered wall as she felt her way toward the screaming in the darkness. It was growing louder, now very audible to anyone with regular hearing. Fand shivered. A small light flickered under another door, this one thinner, more rotted, hanging from its hinges.

  The shrieking pierced the air. Whoever was being tortured was on the other side of the door. Fand jerked it open.

  The low ceiling was barely high enough for a faerie to stand upright. Two faeries held torches. In the center of the room stood a circle of hooded figures, steel knives glinted a dull shade of yellow in the low light. Others dripped with blood.

  In the center of the circle lay a faerie wearing only a loincloth. Blood seeped from the puncture wounds covering his body. In the room's corner stood a large dark creature, hunched down before the ceiling, a trail of red coming from its dark horn and seeping into the screaming man’s mouth.

  Fand’s eyes were wide with horror. Suddenly, Bres stood in front of her. He threw his hood back and pushed Fand from the room, shutting the door behind him.

  “Outside. We’ll talk,” he said.

  Fand stumbled back up the stairs and out into daylight before turning on Bres.

  “You are releasing it. The dark magic bound when Balor was defeated,” she accused.

  “It is necessary.”

  Fand looked incredulous. “You would see the Otherworld destroyed before we can reunite with the mortal realm.”

  “No,” Bres responded, impatient. “But this is a necessary step in our plans. With Balor, we will have a fighting chance if the humans turn violent. Releasing this magic is the first step.”