There’d be no way for the plan to go wrong, to accidentally run into palace guards or whatever the Elven called themselves when they stood stoically off to the side, weapons in hand. No way. Her plans never went wrong.
Her tutor did not keep her late that day, and so Faith was able to return to the inn where she shared a room with Cara, wash herself of the sweat of the day with the bucket of water that sat on the wooden dresser-like furniture in the corner, and tell her friend her plan.
Cara sat on the bed, made of feathers and straw, tucked neatly into a rectangular shape with the help of a sheet, combing through her long hair before braiding it. She’d put in earrings, dangly ones that sparkled in a way similar to Ophelia’s jewelry, though Cara’s were plain old cubic zirconia. Who she was dressing up for, Faith didn’t know. Faith also didn’t know why she bothered, because they couldn’t change out of their fifth-year jumpsuit until they were in their rooms for the night.
Fashion. Who needed it?
Each student was paired off with another; Faith should be happy that Penelope hadn’t sought to change her and Cara’s roomie status, too. That would’ve sucked.
“Did you hear what I said?” Faith asked, drying her face with her towel before throwing it onto her luggage in the corner. Cara just looked at her, eyes wide and clueless. “Repeat after me,” she started, yet again, for the second time, and told her friend the plan.
This time, she got the reaction she knew she would.
“What?” Cara jumped up. She glanced to the door, and seeing that it was closed, she said, “You can’t do that. You’ll get caught. You probably won’t even make it over the wall. There’s no way the guards won’t notice you climbing the wall they’re there to keep watch of!”
Faith stepped nearer her friend, gently touching one of her dangly earrings. “I think you underestimate the part of the plan that involves you.”
“Me?” Cara echoed. “I won’t help you get in trouble, Faith. I want to do recon. I won’t get written up for this—”
“You won’t be,” she assured her. “And they’ll never know you helped me. All I need from you is a little distraction. And by little, I mean big. The Elves like their frolicking and their dancing, right? All you have to do is get some started, and I’m sure others will join in—then you’ll trip—”
“I’ll what, now?”
“You’ll trip, and knock everyone over, and while the guards are busy looking your way, wondering what the hell’s wrong with you, I’ll heave myself over the wall and be out of there lickity-split.”
Cara was unimpressed. Her brows rose as she asked, “Lickity-split, huh?” She sighed explosively. “Fine. But if I’m pulled aside and threatened with a write-up, I’m telling on you.”
Chuckling, Faith nodded as she said, “I’m fine with that.”
“Good. You ready to go? They said to meet by the front door of the inn in fifteen. Since we don’t have any clocks, I’m going with my gut and saying it’s been at least that long.” Cara hustled to the door before Faith had the chance to say yes.
Once Faith caught up to her, she studied her friend, the pep in her step. “Who’re you dolling yourself up for?” Cara, the sweet girl, had even put on some makeup. Her light blue eyes were surrounded by black liner, her short lashes appearing longer with the help of mascara. Her friend looked pretty; not that she didn’t normally look pretty. She did. Now, though, Faith knew she was trying to impress someone. An Elf, maybe?
Either way, Cara refused to tell, and they met their class and walked through town in relative silence, making their way to the small hill the castle sat on, around its side where the walls of the courtyard sat, a fire already burning and the day’s catch already roasting.
Chapter Seven
If there was one thing Cara was good at, it was following Faith’s outrageous plans. This wouldn’t be the first time that Cara had gone along with something that was, Faith knew, against her better judgment and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
Faith waited until everyone had full bellies and crystal glasses in hand, waited until the timing was right and the blue sky above turned amber and grew darker before giving her friend a short nod. Cara downed the rest of her drink before setting it on the stone seat she had sat on, getting up and walking over to a group of Elves, a group that included her tutor, Chumbawamba, and asked if they wanted to learn a Human dance. And, unsurprisingly, they all nodded eagerly.
It wasn’t long before Cara started gesturing for the other fifth years to join in, and soon there was a makeshift dance circle around the fire. Faith shifted her gaze to the guards near the spot on the wall she was going to climb, and they weren’t having any of the distraction. The guards on the opposite wall, the wall that hugged the forest, smiled as they watched.
Going through the forest in a long, wrap-around walk when she was already in the castle’s grounds was not something Faith wanted to do, but it looked like she had no choice.
Faith danced a little, hugged Cara and whispered that she was about to leave, and shimmied out of the masse of happy bodies, inching toward the wall. Faith was about four feet from the stonework when Cara accidentally tripped on her own feet, stumbling into her tutor, causing a hilarious domino effect that soon swirled all around the campfire, stopping only when the final fifth year was face-down in the trampled grass.
She heard Cara apologize profusely to her tutor, and a second passed before laughter erupted all around. The guards who’d been eyeing the fun dance skipped to the fray, helping their fellow Elven stand.
Faith used the planned chaos to her advantage, turning and tossing one, final glimpse over her shoulder before hoisting herself over the short wall and flinging herself onto its other side, landing gracefully in the grass. Smiling to herself, she dusted off her hands before venturing onwards.
Of course, it was then that Faith realized she didn’t have a plan to get back into the gathering.
Oops.
Oh, well, she thought. Too late now.
Faith kept herself near the stone masonry, largely ignoring the forest on her right. If she kept going, kept clinging to the wall, she should wrap around to the castle’s backyard, though they didn’t call it that. What was it—the gardens? The flowery-place? Whatever. Faith didn’t really care. She just wanted to get in there, to get answers. Breaking the rules was only a side benefit.
That was the plan.
However, it seemed the forest itself had other plans. A tingling sensation grew on her skin until all the hairs on her arms stood beneath the long sleeves of her uniform. A hideously ugly color, Faith couldn’t wait to get out of it each night, strip and toss it on the floor in an unceremonious pile. She shivered, stopping in her trek to glance at the forest.
It was eerily dark, considering the sky hadn’t blackened yet with pure night.
She shrugged it off, more than willing to keep going, but she heard a faint tune. Once again, she surveyed the area. The trees were wider and thicker, taller and fuller than any in Central Park, their bark a smooth brown, not craggy and uneven. Their roots poked out of the grass and moss that grew on the ground, their branches also covered with hanging moss. It was a fantasy landscape if she ever saw one.
Faith took a few steps toward the forest, and that’s when she saw it: a light, far off, so dim and faint that at first, she wasn’t certain if she was truly seeing it. Curiosity got the better of her, and she hoped she wouldn’t turn out to be like the cat in the saying curiosity killed the cat. Her feet drew her towards the light, her gooseflesh gone.
Larger and larger it grew as she walked through the forest, oblivious to all else around her. True, it probably wasn’t the best idea, waltzing through the Elven forest at night with nothing but her Victi as company, but her will was strong and her curiosity stronger. Within five minutes, she found the light was in the shape of a ball and it hung directly over her head. Faith reached out a hand, seeking to touch the ball, find out what the sphere of light was…
And then she realized th
at it wasn’t a tune she heard, it was a heartbeat; nor was it a simple ball of light above her, it was an esca of flesh and bioluminescence attached to something hanging above her. Like an anglerfish in the oceans of Earth, only this was much bigger—she realized as her eyes focused on the creature clinging to the tree nearest her—and scarier, due to the fact that this wasn’t swimming miles under the ocean’s surface. It was here with her, now, with a large, two-foot wide crescent-shaped mouth, full of teeth that seemed to jitter in anticipation.
Everything that happened next happened in a blur.
Faith yanked up her left sleeve, tore off her leather band, activating her Victus with a smooth, steady motion, drawing her fingers along her wrist. By the time her fingers reached her left palm, the dagger was already sliding into place. About six inches long, sleek and simple, save for a delicate but strong hilt, it was a weapon of precision, and she knew just where to strike where it would hurt.
Cut off the esca. Her sharp Victus should do it in one motion.
Just as she saw it tense on the tree, digging its talons into the bark as it readied itself to leap for her, just as she started to swing her arm around, straight toward its glowing esca, someone shouted, “Get down!”
Faith didn’t think; she simply dropped to the grass. An arrow sailed by, landing in the tree near the beast’s feet which, now that she could see them, were as large as her skull. “You missed!” she called back, astounded that her wonderful, do-no-wrong tutor could miss so badly. It had to be her tutor. It had to be Sunnytoes, or Light, or whatever his name was. She recognized the ticked-off tone in his voice instantly.
The creature snarled at the arrow, making a run for it after withdrawing its luminous trap; sprinting away, leaping from tree to tree until it was far enough away that it was no more than a blue dot in the distance.
“No, I didn’t,” Light said, moving beside her, hand still clutching his bow. “We are not like your kind. We kill only when we must. Only when their death would serve something.”
Faith struggled to stand, hand tight around her dagger. “What about serving survival?”
He gave her a smirk. She hated that it was of the cuter-than-average variety. “You’re alive now, aren’t you?”
She straightened, realizing he was right. Though, she would fight until the end of time, she knew she could’ve handled it. She had a plan in place, knew what to do, inferred the animal’s weakness due to its similarities to a fish on Earth…she did not need him to come save the day. Or night. Or whatever.
“I suppose I should thank you,” Faith muttered, hating the feeling of being indebted to someone, especially if it was an Elf like him.
“I suppose you should.”
Oh, how she hated him. Grinding her teeth, she whispered, “Thank you, Sunnytoes.” She saw his grip on his bow tighten, and now it was her turn to smirk. “You going to tell me what you’re doing stalking me? Very problematic behavior, you know.”
Light scowled. Even his scowl was pretty. Damned Elf. “If by stalking you mean following,” he growled, “trust me when I say being alone with you is the last thing I wish to do. But after your friend made a fool of herself in a very odd way, I got suspicious. Where is the funny one, I thought. Where could she be? Imagine my surprise when I found your footprints heading to the wall. I am a hunter. I could track you in my sleep.”
Faith rolled her eyes. Right. Hunter, tracker. Still annoying as ever, though.
“Tell me what you were doing out here,” he demanded, slinging his bow across his back. “Tell me why you’d be so foolish as to leave the safety of the gathering and go wandering the forest when I explicitly told all of you that it was dangerous.”
Did he? Hmm. Faith must’ve dozed off for that part of his welcoming speech.
As if she would tell him the truth, that she hoped to stumble across that one Elf lady. The odds of that were slim, she knew, but that was the goal. Instead Faith said, “It’s none of your business, dude.”
“Dude,” he repeated. “Your Human lingo does not impress me. You—” His eyes focused on something, and almost instantly, Faith backed up, putting her left hand behind her back, feeling her Victus crawl back into her skin. When active, the tattoo faded into a smoky grey; when dormant, it was a pure, deep black. “—was that—” He grabbed her by her shoulder and spun her around, reaching for her arm. His hand, rough and strong, easily slid around her wrist. “—a Victus?”
Faith did not like the feeling of his skin so warm on hers. She tried yanking free, but he was too strong. Suddenly she wondered: how well did she know him? Being alone with a stranger, an Elf, and a male one to boot, surely went against everything her grandma tried to instill in her.
“How do you have a Victus?” He was aghast, stunned, shocked, his anger at her foolishly leaving the gathering fading into sheer confusion. “You have not yet graduated your Academy. You shouldn’t have one.”
In his bafflement, his grip loosened, and Faith managed to get free, stepping backward, away from him, putting more than an arm’s space between them. They were too close. Didn’t he think she smelled or something? “I know,” she said, bending down to reach for her leather cuff, fastening it around her thin wrist. “Doesn’t change the fact that I have—” She caught herself, though it truly didn’t matter, now that he knew the truth. “—one.”
Light studied her. “I suspect the others don’t know, do they?”
“Cara knows. No one else.” Faith met his stare, and for a moment they stood in silence. “I’d get into a lot of trouble if they found out,” she said quietly. She didn’t have to say it; he already knew.
“Cara…the same friend who made a mockery of the gathering tonight?” When Faith opened her mouth, he added, “She won’t get in trouble. It looked accidental. But you…” He smiled. “I haven’t decided what to do with you, yet.”
“You won’t do anything.”
“Perhaps.” Light stepped closer, bending his head to murmur, “As I said, I haven’t yet decided.”
Faith frowned. “What do you want?”
“I shall let you know when I decide. However I would advise against being a pain and acting on those funny urges for the rest of your time here.”
She glared at him.
All he did was continue to smile, moving away from her and starting to head back in what was hopefully the castle’s direction. Faith was definitely lost. She wouldn’t find her way back by herself; she had no choice but to go with him.
Trailing along, she muttered, “I hope you like smelly Humans, because I don’t plan on putting deodorant on for the rest of the week.”
Just when the wall came into view, as the forest broke away, Light held out a hand, stopping her. She rammed herself into his hand, quickly stepping back and brushing off her chest. The Elf got a handful of boob on that one, she gritted her teeth, not that he knew it. He was too intent on staring at the wall. Faith was about to ask what they were doing when she heard it.
Screaming.
Chapter Eight
The girl was one surprise after another.
Light hadn’t expected for the majority of the gathering’s participants to start dancing, and he definitely hadn’t expected for everyone to fall. After helping his fellow Elven back to their feet, he had found himself searching for the girl, to see if she was all right. She was quiet today, and though he hadn’t known her long, he knew that was strange behavior for her. When he hadn’t seen her, when he went around the edges of the gathering and saw two tiny boot prints leading to the wall, he knew instantly, though he hadn’t known why she went.
He still didn’t quite know, but he’d let the girl keep her secrets, because he knew one so much better.
She had a Victus. What was the word Humans liked to use? Illegal? Light was almost certain that was it. Faith had an illegal Victus. For some reason, the revelation startled him. He never expected the girl to surprise him like that. It did not change his opinion of her, though. She was still a gross, weird-
looking, smelly Human, who apparently was going to smell even worse in an effort to get back at him.
Ridiculous. She should be thanking him. She should grovel at his feet for saving her from the savell. Just because she had a Victus did not mean she knew how to use it, how to properly use the weapon that was infused into her skin. And even if she did, there was no telling whether or not she would’ve triumphed over the vicious savell. Hunters avoided going out into the forest at night for that specific reason. They were too dangerous. It was far too easy to slip and become enthralled in its trap.
Light was about to comment on her threat to smell worse—though he was unsure of what deodorant was—when he smelled it. The girl near him probably didn’t smell a thing. Their noses were not that good. An acidic taste in his mouth, a burning sensation in his eyes. They neared the stone wall and screams rang through the air.
He turned to the girl. “Stay here.” He didn’t wait for her response; he couldn’t. Light simply climbed over the wall, planting his feet as he surveyed the gathering. Or…what was left of it. The fire was nearly dead. The air was smoky, too smoky. He covered his mouth and nose, doing his best to hold in his breath and breathe only when he had to. His outfit was mostly leather from his hunts; cloth would’ve worked much better.
The Humans were down. Those few who’d screamed were out cold, unconscious, passed out on the grass on top of each other, their plates and crystal goblets strewn about. The Elves were much the same, though the air’s effects worked a bit slower on their lungs. Even the guards were stumbling about, losing grip of their spears as they fell to their knees.
Light paused as he had to breathe in, feeling woozy, bending to retrieve a broken clay jar. Its jagged edges dripped a thick, purple substance, and the moment his skin touched it, he felt it burning. Aether. Pure aether. Poisonous to all Elven and, clearly, Humans.
Someone had lit it on fire, a type of thrown weapon, and hurled it over the gathering’s walls.
It would dissipate in the air before it would kill any of them, but the sheer strength of it was maddening. Who would do this? Certainly no Elf. Pure aether was toxic to most living species, as it was the essence of natural magic. It was a delicate balance between coexisting and finding useful ways to put it to work, and the death that hung on the other side.
The Harbinger Page 5
