Dreams of the Fae: Transcendence

by Anna Patrick Paige

  I headed towards what seemed like the brightest part of the woods, an area that didn’t have quite as much overgrowth as the rest. The cat gave a cautioning meow and pressed her body into my shins to stop me.

  “Move.” I stepped over her. “This is difficult enough without tripping over you.”

  She expelled a deafening shriek and leaped into the tree branches, perching on a limb like an owl. She hissed and arched her back—just as something crept over my foot and tightened around my ankle.

  In a flash, a violent tug jerked my feet out from under me. The air evacuated my lungs as I landed hard on the permafrost. My chin smacked on the ground, knocking my teeth together and sending shocks of pain through my jaw as my incisors cut into my bottom lip. The sticky, iron-rich flow of blood filled my mouth. I curled onto my side with a groan. I had never felt such a blow.

  The brush came to life with black figures, and the forest went ablaze with lit torches. Dozens of crude men ran towards me, approaching so rapidly I didn’t have time to think of a way to escape.

  I pushed myself up, whipping my head from left to right in search of a break in the bodies. Every possible path was blocked by repulsive men with long hair and frazzled beards. I spun around, finding one grisly face after another. Most held crude weapons high above their heads; others drew rusted daggers from their leather belts. My blood curdled at the sight of their missing teeth and clothes covered in grime. The man coming directly at me had only one eye, and I stared, mystified, at the fleshy socket.

  Something rough brushed against my ankle. With the forest illuminated, I glanced down to see a rope. As quickly as I came to the realization, my feet were once more ripped out from under me. Again, I crashed to the hard, frigid dirt. I knew somewhere deep in my consciousness the impact had been extremely painful, but such terror coursed through my body that all I perceived was the throbbing of blood rushing in my ears.

  I screamed until the flesh in my throat tore, kicking and thrashing, but my frenzy did nothing to stop them from closing in on me. My fight lasted mere seconds before large, rough hands pinned me to the ground. They bound my legs with the rope already wrapped around my ankle, rendering all my efforts futile. I was small and fragile against brute force and infinite black night. The bitter cold soaked into my dress, stealing the last bits of warmth I had managed to cling to.

  My relentless screaming morphed into uncontrollable sobs as my wrists were bound as well. The rope cut into my skin, and my fingers throbbed in agony. I gasped for air but took in nothing but a mouthful of dirt and ice.

  “Gag her!” one rasped. “She’ll draw attention. That damn rogue is in the area. Do you all want to die?”

  A cloth was shoved in my mouth and tied around the back of my head. It tasted of salt and mud, dampened with a substance I didn’t want to contemplate. Disgusted, I pushed against it with my tongue, attempting to relieve the awful discomfort that successfully ceased my screaming. Saliva filled my mouth in response. The foul mix of sweat and filth trickled down my throat.

  The silencing of my bellows brought my attention to the enraged cat. She spat and hissed. Flickers of burgundy fur shimmered past me as she scaled up one man’s back and dug her teeth into his neck. He cried out, and she jumped from shoulder to shoulder among the group of enemies—sinking her fangs into their ears and tearing their skin with her silvery claws. Several men clumsily swiped at her, but she easily avoided their blundering swings.

  “What are you doing, you idiots?” another scolded. “Get moving! The rogue heard her screams. I’m sure of it.”

  The cat continued her bombardment, jumping from tree branch to tree branch and swatting at their heads. The whistle of arrows pierced the night. Each projectile narrowly missed the ferocious feline. She hissed, diving into the brush.

  The men crowded over the spot where she landed, lopping at the underbrush with their swords. She exploded from hiding with incredible speed. I barely saw the sudden flash of strange fur as she dashed into the darkness.

  “Enough with the damn cat!” one yelled. Giving up their pursuit, the men unsuccessfully wiped their bloody brows, smearing crimson farther onto their gaunt, dirty cheeks.

  Defeated, bound, and gagged, I relaxed my tongue from the labored push to keep the rag out of my mouth and swallowed salty dirt down a scorched throat. The muscles around my tongue ached. I blinked several times, attempting to clear away the blinding burn of tears.

  This was it. The end. I closed my eyes and prepared to accept my fate. I had wanted freedom and foolishly believed somewhere, outside the walls of Alamantia Palace, I’d find an answer. I had utterly failed. Always so ungrateful for the life I had been given, I’d naively wandered into the unknown—miles away from home—and destroyed myself.

  As I waited on the verge of death, I thought of Ambrosia and her fondness for me even in my insolent moments. She loved the worst of me in hopes of bringing out the best. She had risked everything for my escape, trusting I would make a mature decision, appreciate life at court and accept what was needed of me for my country.

  The King and queen of Brisleia would lose an heir, their invaluable Divine Princess vanished into thin air, never to be heard from again. Would they forget about me? Would Luken allow them to forget?

  Luken . . .

  I loved him more than anyone else, and I left him to never know what had become of me. I would never again laugh with my brother nor see his sparkling smile. I would never feed off his enthusiasm or wear his rose crowns in my hair. I wanted to hear his voice more than any other sound in existence. It would have brought me the strength to endure this outcome. But Luken was far away, searching for an answer to break my engagement. And I was here. Alone.

  Mortality lingered over me as I came to terms with dying before I had a chance to live. The symptoms of the Fae did not stop at dreaming. I carried something extraordinary—hearing the thoughts of animals and walking across water. I would never know the extent of those forbidden anomalies. Maybe I could return to the dreams so I wouldn’t be conscious during the pain of death. I would rather die floating in a black abyss than on the ice-cold ground.

  Had Elizabetta known I was dreaming?

  My stomach twisted at the memory of her sweet amber eyes. She had never left my side. I had never been without her—until now.

  I glanced through the forest and saw the flash of burgundy hiding deep within the brush. The little feline waited patiently, out of sight. She hadn’t left me alone in these wretched woods.

  “Silence,” a shrill old voice commanded, and my captors hushed.

  My eyes darted to a short ancient woman with a hunchback that forcefully jutted her head forwards. The hood of her moth-eaten brown cloak covered a mane of long white hair that fell over her round belly and canvased much of her middle. Her nose crooked to the side, and wrinkles surrounded her bloodshot black eyes. She looked well over one hundred, with tapered bony fingers bearing nails so long they curled at the ends.

  The men parted for her. When her eyes landed on me, an evil grin grew across her face, revealing chipped brown teeth. A shiver went up my spine. She grabbed the front of my dress and forced me to look at her. “It can’t be,” she murmured, her dead eyes peering deeply into mine. “Unbelievable.” She dropped my dress.

  The old hag turned quicker than I would have expected and snatched the collar of the burly man standing over us. “I want her. She’s coming with us,” she said, then pushed him away by smashing her hand against the side of his face. A delighted smile pulled at her thin lips, and she let out a heinous cackle. “I knew I’d eventually find one. Stupid, pompous dark riders.”

  My heart jumped into my throat. She couldn’t possibly know of my Divinity. The Mandala was still absent.

  Footsteps neared my head. I was yanked up from the ground and thrown over an extraordinarily large shoulder, my body dangling upside down like a doll over the icy dirt.

  They carried me through the woods. I could see only the ground as it passed unde
r my head, the tips of my almond curls dragging behind my captor’s dirty leather boots. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs, and the pressure of balancing on the man’s sweaty shoulder made my stomach ache. As the adrenaline faded, every pain my body had endured roared into agonizing focus.

  The journey lasted forever into the night—endless rocks, soil, and frost. Sporadically, I would glance to the side and catch the faintest glimpse of burgundy following out of enemy reach. The cat was being cautious, trailing as close as she could while avoiding detection.

  I had almost become used to the gag and steadied my breathing when we entered a cave. The narrow tunnel grew brighter the deeper we advanced into the underground. Torches hung at various points along the stone walls, and only one man could pass through at a time without burning themselves.

  After a short walk, the tunnel opened into a low cavern, its ceiling studded with stalactites. A sluggish stream flowed along its edge, and additional black tunnels led deeper into the cave. One wide fire burned in the cavern’s center, and with no outlet for the smoke, soot hung in the air as ominous charcoal clouds. Ash covered every surface and sprinkled the men loitering in the area with gray cinders. Some practiced sword techniques while a few cheered and laughed at the messy squabbling. Others were too drunk to stand, and one man was vomiting profusely into the stream. They drank from tin steins and chewed on handfuls of pork that dried on racks lining the walls. Most seemed cheery, but a foul smell of death and evil lingered in the air.

  The support of my captor’s shoulder went out from under me. Still bound, I dropped to the ground with nothing to break my fall. Instant pain. I didn’t have a voice left to whimper.

  To my right, a forbidding black hole led away from the main chamber, but this tunnel was different. A heavy gate covered the opening, and a colossal metal lock shut away whatever lay inside. I screamed when I saw it, and my ragged throat caught fire.

  Two men grabbed me, needing little effort to restrain my body in its weakened state. One took a handful of my hair and jerked my head back so far my neck cracked. He removed the gag and pried open my lower jaw. Insane with fear, I inhaled to let loose a screech of absolute dread, but the second man hovered over me and stopped my scream by pouring a foul liquid into my mouth. I’d have thought any moisture would have soothed the inferno raging in my throat, but the thick, bitter substance burned far more than it cooled. I tried to gargle it out, but the first man arched my neck in such a way that I had no choice but to swallow to keep breathing. My stomach immediately felt unsettled.

  “Remove her binds,” the second man said, tossing away the small cup. With a large key attached to his belt, he unlocked the heavy gate. The first man drew a knife from his boot and scraped the blade against my skin as he cut through the ropes at my ankles, then my wrists. Before any thought of escape could fully form, I was thrown across the floor towards the iron bars and skidded to a halt just inside. The door slammed shut, and the lock clanked into place.

  I scanned the many ghastly individuals until one winked at me. “She’s pretty,” he murmured to his companions.

  “Mother said we have to leave her alone,” another informed him.

  The first scoffed. “I’ll take what I want.” He stared at me with a toothless grin.

  I jumped away from the gate and slid across the floor, attempting to hide deeper in the darkness. The smell of death filled my nose, and I turned to meet a rotting corpse, flies and maggots falling through dripping holes in the colorless skin. I jerked back and smacked into the stone wall on the other side. Pulling my legs into my chest, I tucked my head in my hands.

  Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dark. The cell was small, only a few feet wide, and full of human excrement and vomit. Roaches and spiders crawled along the filthy floor. I covered my nose with my cloak but couldn’t get the scent of rotting flesh out of my lungs.

  “It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

  I flinched at the small feminine voice. My first thought was to look for a mouse, but the figure of a young girl huddling in the darkest part of the cell came into view.

  “My name is Abbey, and this is my sister, Mary.” She gestured to another girl curled into a fetal position in the corner. Both girls had matted brown hair, skeletal faces with heavy slate bags under their eyes, and green drool drying on their chins.

  “What is this place?” I choked out.

  “Death.” Abbey coughed, and a new glop of thick ooze fell from her mouth. “They will kill you, eventually. They kill everyone.”

  I grimaced at the filth caked to her skin and clothes. “How long have you been here?” I asked, trying to gauge how much time I had left.

  “I . . .” she stuttered. “I don’t know.” A pause. “They collect people. Then they take them away. They scream. I wish they would take me.” She lovingly stroked her sister’s hair. The girl breathed but otherwise looked every bit dead. “I want to go home.”

  “Where is home?” I shouldn’t have continued to pry.

  She shrugged. “Morgan takes care of us. Sometimes Morgan will tell us stories.”

  “Who is Morgan?” I asked warily as the strange little girl began to terrify me.

  She cocked her head to the side and gave me an odd stare, as if she didn’t completely understand the question. She turned to the corpse and studied it. “Oh . . .” Her body shuddered with a sob, but her eyes remained dry. “He died. I wish he would stop talking to me.” The sobbing abruptly ceased, and she grinned. “Will you talk to me after you die?”

  A sense of impending doom filled the cell. Whatever had happened to this child had caused her to lose her mind.

  A loud snort from the main chamber drew my attention. The room had gone quiet; most of the men slept, draped over various objects or curled onto animal skins.

  “They’ll sleep now,” Abbey murmured.

  “I have to get out of here.” I let the wool fall from my face, and the stench crashed into me.

  “There is no way out. No one ever gets out.” Her eyes momentarily rolled into the back of her skull, and her head bobbed, becoming too heavy for her thin neck. “We can’t leave our home.”

  I crawled to the gate and eyed the heavy lock. The bars were too close together for me to reach an arm through and fiddle with it. But if I didn’t get out of this cell, I would end up just like Abbey and Mary, slowly losing my mind until I disintegrated. Tentatively, I curled a foolish finger around the lock to check its strength.

  “I don’t care if you’ve poisoned her. Get rid of the Fae.”

  I stopped abruptly.

  Across the room, the hag stood before a brute of a man, his guttural voice filled with worry as he scolded the ancient woman. “I can’t sleep at night thinking of what the Onyx Guard will do to us if they find her here.”

  “You’re a fool if you think I’m letting her go. I do not fear those shadows. Just look at her.” The hag’s black eyes landed on me, and her withered mouth curled in a corrupt smile. “She’s at least sixteen. The tonic will keep her pacified. I choose to keep her.”

  “This is on you, Mother.” The brute groaned and disappeared down one of the many black tunnels.

  The old woman’s feet scuffled along the rock to the prison gate. “Planning an escape?” She leaned close to the bars and touched the greasy iron. Sticky droplets of drool gathered in the corners of her crusty lips. “It would be in the eve of my long years I would finally cage a Dreamer of my very own.”

  My heart leaped into my throat. This had nothing to do with my being Divine, but something else entirely. Something hunted by the Onyx Guard in the dead of night to be locked away in Medial Alexandria.

  “Let me go,” I demanded, wrapping my hands around the bars. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

  “Who? Bah!” She spat on the ground. She smelled nearly as bad as the rotting corpse. “Who doesn’t matter. Some peasant girl lost in the woods, no doubt. Looking for a lost sheep, were you? Well, who doesn’t matter, but what . . . ye
s. Yes, that matters.”

  “You’re mistaken.”

  “Don’t lie to me. I know well what you are, girl, and you are worth your weight in coin.” She pointed a bony finger between my eyes. “No one, save Medial Alexandria, holds a Fae captive, and I have never seen a Dreamer as old as you. How you managed to survive this long away from the hands of the Senate is beyond me.”

  Tired of the torture, I kicked the gate, rattling my cage.

  The hag took a step back and gave a deranged cackle, tossing her head joyfully. “You were too easy to capture. If you knew the true extent of your power, there would be no iron bars that could hold you. You are lucky I found you before those cloaked men on horseback. They will not have you. Do you suspect I would turn you over to them so easily? No, dear girl, you belong to me.”

  I glared at her, ignoring my fear.

  “I know what fate awaits you if you keep chasing lost sheep. These days true Sights are fewer and fewer. Others may be blind, but the Onyx Guard will know you when they see you.” She turned and made her way towards the nearest black tunnel. “You should thank me for protecting you.”

  I shook the gate. It didn’t budge. The hag’s laughter echoed as she disappeared into the aphotic passage.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to wake every single one of them and cause such a fuss they would have to open the cell to keep me from injuring myself. If I was that valuable to her, then she would have to stop me if I chose to act insane.

  However, the way these men treated me, their cruelty, the thought of their disgusting hands touching me, silenced my outrage. I glanced at the little girls. Abbey’s head rested against the wall, her eyes shut and her chest moving slowly. I did not wish to wake her. Why bring her out of the darkness? In sleep, she had peace.

  I found a spot equally far from the corpse and the girls, pulled my legs into my chest, and buried my head in my knees.

  Time passed at a crawl. The cave grew darker as the fire died, and soon nothing lit the room except the last smoldering embers. The air turned cold. My dress had dried, but a chill entered my core that iced my bones. My muscles ached in all the places I had been abused.