Guardians of Fire

by Alexia Purdy

  It had been a huge blow. I wished I had known her a little bit more, for the woman ran deeper than the ocean. Arthas, a shallow, sadistic creature, had ended her life far too easily. I swallowed, afraid that I had so much in common with the Unseelie Queen Aveta. We’d been allies, with the same goal of imprisoning Arthas.

  Now I was waking up the Unseelie Ancient. I wasn’t sure what I would do afterward. I wasn’t powerful enough to return him to his sleep again. Not by myself. But when Ancients said they were our allies, were they truly with us? No. It would take too much power to put him back to sleep. Power I didn’t have to spare now, not with what we could face attaining what Kilara needed. Still, I needed the blood of three Ancients to enter The Heart, according to Rowan. What to do with the blood, I had no idea, though, so Arthas needed to wake up to tell me at least that. That and to give me his blood.

  The only thing I had going for me was that I was going to bind his magic with the iron cuff in my hand. As I stepped around the large coffin, I sensed his undisturbed sleep within. The bracelet matched the one Corb had been forced to wear when his magic was bound to me. I didn’t want to bind Arthas to me, but it was the only way to keep him under control.

  “Can’t we just get what we want then leave him here?” Benton asked. “I don’t see why we need to lug him around with us.”

  “Shh. He’ll hear you. He may be in an eternal slumber, but he can still hear us. We have to take him with us to The Heart of Fire and Ice. I need a guarantee against Kilara.”

  I reached out toward the container and shoved a strand of power magic into the top of the sarcophagus. The top flew off and landed with a resounding thud on the ground, breaking into two pieces. I peered inside and observed the sleeping Arthas, bound in chains and with a furrowed expression on his face.

  The king wasn’t happy to see us. Even asleep, he knew we were there.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Dylan

  I sat straight up in bed, breathing hard, with a sheen of sweat clinging to my skin. It was the middle of the night, and I lit the room with my inner fire. I glanced to my left to see Sylphi’s body lumped under the blankets, sleeping soundly, unaware of my plight. Cursing under my breath, I closed my eyes and focused on calming my breathing.

  I rarely had nightmares, let alone dreams. We fey rarely had to sleep much, but when we did, we did so heavily. I’d dreamt of Shade, and she was in a place I could not join her, surrounded by snow and a ring of blue fire. I could only stare as I watched her cut into her palm and let the crimson drops drip onto the blazing flames.

  My insides felt like they would burst. I bent over in horrible pain, feeling slick fluid sliding on my own hands. I stared at my wedding band, watching the platinum metal melt away, stream down my arm, and pool on the rock beneath me. Horrified, I watched the same happen to Soap’s hand as he held it before me. And Shade… she screamed as the metal slid down her arms.

  “No!” I yelled and crawled forward, afraid I’d never reach her on time. When I hit an invisible barrier, I leaned on it, tears streaming down my face. A violent vortex of wind whipped at Shade’s hair. When she calmly met my eyes, hers turned white, like Corb’s, yet somehow even whiter.

  “Dylan. Save Soap. You’re the only one who can.”

  Confused, I peered over my shoulder and found Soap lying perfectly still on the ground. His hand sat in a small puddle of metal where his ring had liquefied. He wasn’t breathing, and his skin was paling by the moment.

  Was he dead?

  I turned back and watched as Shade stood up, blood drizzling down her dress and steaming. Red crystals popped up around her feet, puncturing the rocks with their sharp points. I couldn’t reach her; the barrier shield kept me apart from my beloved.

  “Shade.” My voice was but a whisper in the howling wind.

  “Dylan, forgive me. I never meant it to come to this. You must understand.”

  She closed her eyes and disappeared.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, afraid of the blank canvas awaiting me now as I thought back to my dream. I hoped it wasn’t a premonition. Those dreams often felt muddy, sticking to me into the real world until they came true. This one felt different, yet the familiar stickiness clung to me like tar, filling me with dread.

  Shaking my head, I jerked off the blanket and dressed in the dark, my blue fire skin the only light in the cavernous room. I caught a glimpse of my reflection. I understood how Shade could hate these mirrors so much. I thought I saw Darren, my dead brother, staring hard back at me. Nothing made sense lately, and finding myself with Sylphi in my bed made me want to slam a fist into the wall. I’d never meant to let it get that far. So many things I couldn’t tell anybody ran through my head.

  Sneaking out was a new low for me, but then again, I’d never dated much. Sylphi would wake up alone, and I wouldn’t be there. She’d think me a jerk. Or maybe she wouldn’t care at all; she was that kind of person. Maybe she’d even laugh to herself that she’d succeeded in luring me to her bed. I didn’t care either. I just knew I had to think, clear my head, and being near her would impede that. There weren’t many places to go that Sylphi wouldn’t find me, but I figured the energy vortex atop the Teleen Caverns was a good enough place as any.

  After grabbing breakfast from the main hall, I set off toward the climbing ropes for one last jaunt up the cliff. Climbing was my only reprieve, and since I was one of the few who could tolerate the vortex, I couldn’t wait to get away from the crowds of Teleen. I overheard many speaking of the new choice for queen. Sylphi’s name hung in the air along with one other, a warrior woman named Leona who wasn’t as young, but she was more experienced. I didn’t care for her. She had sharp, snake-like eyes.

  I ignored the chatty crowd and made my way to the ropes, taking to them with ease. Once outside in the lonely vortex, I found a boulder to sit on and eat my breakfast. I hoped no one would upset my solitude as I analyzed the dream over and over again in my mind.

  It had to be The Heart of Fire and Ice. There was no doubt about it. But when would Shade be heading there? She wasn’t there yet, I could feel it. I reached out subtly to find Shade, making sure my probing didn’t arouse her from her sleep. She slumbered peacefully at the moment, but her mind was beginning to awaken. I pulled away quickly, afraid she’d notice my presence. Rubbing my wedding ring furiously, I felt my heart crack as I choked down my damn pride.

  Dammit, I thought. She was still as beautiful as ever, and the light touch of her magic had ached to embrace me. I almost let it. So easily I could fall right back into her arms. She would have me, I knew she would. Even with all the bad blood between us now, there was no doubt we both loved each other. I felt it coursing through my veins, pumping madly through my system, awakening the bond between us.

  Hungry. Starving. Full of cravings. The bond whined as I closed myself off to it and returned to my pensive thoughts as I sat on the rock. My finger ached, and I remembered my ring melting off in the dream. I lifted it up into the light of the morning but noticed nothing amiss with it. It was a sleek platinum ring which matched the one Shade wore on her finger. They were melded into our skin, never to be removed unless we divorced. The thought of it made my world sway. I could never divorce Shade. Even when it was obviously the best thing for both of us.

  But was it? Really? I stared at the sunrise blazing across the land and hovering over the trees, igniting the world into action. I didn’t want to think about it right now. There was no way I’d divorce her. I’d rather stick a sharp ice pick into my heart before I’d ever go there. We’d both had our affairs now. We were even, weren’t we?

  But Soap was here to stay. There was no ridding myself of him like I could Sylphi.

  “Ah!” I groaned, reaching down to grab a stone, and flung it at a nearby tree where I’d flung countless rocks before. There was a scar midway up its trunk from my assaults. One more scar to heal, what of it? There was nothing in my world left unfractured. Might as well add to it.

  With each
rock, I felt my mistakes and heartache increase yet ease at the same time. The violent urge to destroy subsided, and the familiar ache of loneliness filled me again. Nothing Sylphi or anyone else did would ever sate this emptiness. No one but my beloved could fill it up. I needed a dose of her magic to make me feel high again. Like a fatal addiction, I knew I would never be able to let her go, even if I wanted to.

  I exhaled and sat watching the horizon until the sun was midway up the sky and my soul became blessedly numb once more. It was time, wasn’t it? Time to find Shade again and tell her what I was too proud to admit. Sooner or later, I would settle into the role of first husband and go about my days with as little contact as I could manage with Shade but just enough to fulfill the need within me. If that was what the rest of my life would be like, so be it, but this emptiness I now felt was going to take a hike.

  And Sylphi was just collateral damage.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Shade

  I’d sent Benton and Soap back up. This was something that didn’t involve them, and it could get ugly. Peering into the sarcophagus, I let the dust settle. I glanced at the broken lid, but it didn’t bother me. We wouldn’t be needing it again in the near future. This thought made me swallow the apprehension lumped in my throat.

  Awakening Arthas was the last thing on my ever need to do list. It had never crossed my mind that we’d need his services again. I had planned to leave him there to rot for all of eternity, and I had no qualms about letting him know this when I woke his butt up.

  As the puffs of dust calmed, Arthas’s sleeping form appeared, slumbering peacefully. He looked different, softer, while he slept. But I was no fool. I felt the turmoil lying beneath the chains that bound him and the spell Aveta and I had set upon him. Breaking it to wake him was going to drain me for a couple days. I would have to make sure he was restrained enough with the bracelet and draw from his magic if I needed any in my weakened state.

  I frowned. The taste of his magic as I reached out to place the iron bracelet onto his left arm felt wrong. Not black magic, or evil. It was… empty. A black hole in the midst of the chaotic energy of Faerie. I’d never really analyzed the way Arthas’s magic felt when I’d placed him there nearly a year prior. Now, with him so near and his soft breaths so shallow, he appeared like a corpse on its way to embalmer. I could feel the hum of it licking the edges of my own magic, curious and patient.

  I have all the patience in the world, Shade. Don’t deny me.

  His voice echoed in a recess of my mind, and I gasped, shaking as I clasped the iron around his wrist. His skin sizzled, brightening to an angry red and puckering around the metal in protest. No matter what he tried, it would never come off without my consent. I took comfort in this as I withdrew the chains wrapped around his body, letting my magic do its work, and dropped the loop of chain on the ground in a loud, resounding clatter.

  You shouldn’t have done that. Have I ever told you it’s rude to bind an unwilling faery king?

  Again, his voice echoed in my head, and I pressed my lips tight, doing my best to ignore the way it made my head spin.

  You can’t push me away. His voice became louder. You bind yourself to me as I to you. Did Corb ever tell you this bind goes both ways? No? What a pity. You give me more than you know or would ever want to.

  He remained peaceful for a moment before his eyelids fluttered and opened, and he stared blankly up into the atmosphere of the stuffy room.

  I wanted to throw up from the waves of empty hitting me, batting me down with a beating I’d not felt for a while. I needed to control this. Now.

  I shoved all I had into the bind and commanded it to drain Arthas of his energy. It hesitated at first, grimacing at the dark, black hole of magic before diving into the center of what made Arthas powerful, and drained it like a sieve.

  Darkness poured over me as Arthas groaned, closing his eyes again, flinching at my magic.

  No. Stop! He screamed in my head, and I clasped my hands to my ears, my heart hammering from the sharp pain singeing my brain. But the pain didn’t belong to me. It belonged to the entity before me, fighting with all he had against my powers.

  One final push and my magic clamped around his, effectively imprisoning him. I breathed hard, feeling the exertion drain me. The only thing holding me upright was the sarcophagus as I leaned against it. I put my hands down and grasped the rim, my knuckles turning white from the effort.

  Arthas, now a bit paler, looked at me. His dark eyes were no longer black as night but a light tan with a pupil in the dead center of each iris. His breath came out ragged, as though he’d been fighting as well. Sweat covered his now-exposed chest, and it took him a moment to focus before he reached out and grabbed the sides of the sarcophagus, brushing his fingers over one of my hands before I pulled away. Sitting up took a great effort, but he managed to heave his torso up and sat, shoulders sagging as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming his jagged breaths.

  “You’ve stolen my magic. A thief never changes her colors.”

  “You cannot be left unchecked.”

  He cocked his head to the side and scoffed. “Why awaken me from my slumber then? You disturbed my rest, half-blood. Why not let me wallow in my dreams forever?”

  “I need your help.”

  He chuckled, groaning as he lifted his arm to examine the bracelet scorching his skin. “You don’t need my help. You never have.”

  “I do now. Faerie is dying. Kilara needs something from The Heart of Fire and Ice, and I cannot go without blood from three Ancients. Your magic is part of the key to open this place to me.”

  “If you were just a human, you could walk right in.”

  I stared at Arthas, disbelieving what he said. “Benton. He can go in, can’t he?”

  Arthas sighed. “No, not without blood of an ice faery. But if he had that, he, being a fire elemental, could walk right in. You, on the other hand, being part fey, have a disadvantage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He stared hard at me, his eyes shining in the dim glow of my witchlight hovering next to me. “Help me out of here. You took too much, I’m afraid. Squeeze hard enough, and you can kill an Ancient too, you know?”

  Appalled, I loosened the reins on his magic. I had been pressing too much, leaving nothing for him to move around with. Without magic, he was less than a human, he was literally too weak to move. Dammit, he was right. I could kill him easily if I wanted to. But I didn’t.

  “Okay.” I held out my hand, but he ignored it and jumped out of the sarcophagus on his own. I tested my own legs, like a sailor back on land, wobbly as they were. They held, to my relief.

  He stood partially naked except for a pair of thin linen pants. His chest was bare, and despite his long slumber, his muscles glowed with strength and form. Standing about an inch taller than me, he peered around the chamber and the dust accumulating at his feet with a satisfied smile.

  “I like this place you found for me. It’s quite to my delight.”

  “I figured it was ugly and alone, like your soul.”

  His smile melted away as he turned and glared at me, his dark brown hair shining under the witchlight.

  “You’re not as delightful, I’m afraid. Power sours you.” He flinched again and held his left arm, cradling it as though in extreme pain. He wasn’t as stoic as Corb. The bracelet hurt more than I liked to admit, but it would keep him bound to me. I just hoped he wasn’t a whiny brat about it. Corb was much more tolerant of the pain.

  “I don’t care what you think of me. That’s not why I’m here.”

  “You only come around when you want something. I get it. I can’t say I appreciate that you and Aveta conspired against me, but I can appreciate the effort it took to face me. For that, you have my respect, half-blood.”

  “Enough small talk. I need your blood and your presence in a task for Kilara.”

  He bowed overtly, exaggerating his stance as he held out his braceleted arm.

  “Your
wish is my command, dear Queen Shade. I am but a slave of yours now. Do what you must and then let me go.”

  I shook my head as I reached into my hip pouch and pulled out a small corked bottle and a knife. “You see, I would, but you’re too dangerous to let fly around wild in Faerie. The last time you were free, you tried to destroy the land. Why would I let you free?”

  Arthas held his hand out for me to cut into his palm. He winced as the knife glided across his skin but didn’t make a move to pull away. Crimson fluid blossomed from the wound, and I curled his fist over the flask, filling it. I glanced up at his tight face; he wasn’t happy with the situation or my words. He could let them swim around in his mind looking for a solution. He’d find none. The bind was foolproof and Ancient tested. Corb approved.

  “You think me a fool.” He watched me as I finished the task. I avoided his burning gaze as I corked the bottle and tossed it back into the sack and reaching for a scrap of cloth to wipe the knife before I tucked it away in the same sack.

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t think anything of you.”

  He leaned forward, whispering a healing charm to his hand which took a moment to take effect, since his magic was tied to me. I allowed the charm through the blockade placed on him. His skin healed slowly, weaving the dermis back together and clearing any residual blood left on his skin. Just like new.

  “You have my blood. You don’t need me now. Let me loose,” he demanded.

  “I already told you, I can’t.”

  “You steal magic, no better than scum. If there are any abominations in Faerie, it is you!” He dropped his arm to his side and yelped as the metal of his cuff grazed his side, causing the skin to sizzle from the iron exposure. “Take this accursed thing off me!”

  “No.”

  Anger burned behind his eyes as they watered up from the injury he’d sustained. Or maybe they were tears of hate. I couldn’t tell, but I reached into my pack and pulled out a set of clothes for him. I knew he’d have none, and no shoes, so I’d brought him some.