Untitled

by Riana Lucas

  I walk hesitantly into the room, my eyes focused on the floor as I try to step around the blood. I know that it is a useless effort but cannot help but to try. The thought of walking through someone's blood makes me shiver in disgust. But there is so much that it is impossible not to step in some of it. I make a mental note to burn my shoes and immediately replace them with a new pair when I return home. I have never been one to care about my appearance, but I refuse to walk around in blood-stained shoes any more than I have to. Trying to distract myself from the gory mess beneath my feet, I lift my eyes again to look around the room. My gaze immediately zeros in on the massive throne in the middle of the room, the same throne that killed my best friend.

  The site of this throne overshadows all the other horrific sites in this room. It is my only thought now as I move more swiftly through the room toward the dais in the middle. When I reach the stairs, I lift one foot onto the bottom step but come to a quick halt when Reed grabs my arm, gently but effectively jerking me back from what I am about to do.

  “What are you doing?” His eyes narrow in suspicion.

  Mine widen. “What do you mean?” I ask, still trying to ground myself.

  “Were you about to go up there to that throne? The same throne that killed Rho and would probably devour you just as quickly?” His questions are harsh due to his anger and concern.

  “I—“ I snap my mouth shut, not knowing what to say. I glance at the throne again, then back at Reed. There is anger in his eyes, and I understand why. I was not thinking, only acting. It would be stupid of me to get anywhere near that throne without the proper precautions, ones I did not even think about using. I blow out a breath and take a step back. The others are standing close, looking at me with blank expressions. They probably think I am out of my mind, but at least they are not showing it.

  “Okay. I get it.” I shake Reed’s hand from my arm. A hurt look fills his eyes but is gone just as fast. I reach for his hand, not liking that I hurt his feelings by pushing him away. “I understand, really.” I give him a small smile before turning a narrowed gaze on the Throne of Thorns. “But I hate that chair. I want it gone.” I look at Willow now. “What sort of magic would be best to destroy it?”

  “Umm…well, it is probably made of some pretty powerful fae magic. We would need someone equally as strong as the king was to destroy it."”She looks thoughtfully up at the throne.

  My mother immediately comes to mind, but I push that thought away. I would never ask my mother to step foot on Unseelie territory, especially for something so trivial. Destroying the throne is a personal matter for my friends and me, not something that should require such a sacrifice by her. I rack my brain trying to think of someone strong enough to do the job but am coming up short. The queen of the Seelie court would be one of the only fae that have been around as long as the king and as strong as him.

  Reed must sense my distress over the issue because he quickly starts to come up with ideas. “Why can’t we just use old fashioned muscle and sweat?” Reed asks, but we look at him in confusion. He blows out an exasperated breath and rolls his eyes. “We can chop it up with an ax or burn it.”

  “Reed, an ax will not harm that throne. It is made of magic. Do you really think something so simple would even harm it, much less destroy it?” This time I roll my eyes at him.

  “Okay, well, I see your point. But what about burning it?”

  “No, I—“ I do not get to finish my explanation because Willow cuts me off.

  “Actually, Reed may be correct on that one. Fire is a natural element of the Earth, and we all know that the elements of the Earth trump fae magic any day. If we did it right and made sure we contained the fire, I’m pretty sure it would work,”Willow says excitedly.

  Reed gives me an I told you so look that I choose to ignore. “Do you really think so? I do not wish for anyone or anything to be harmed because of such an immature desire.” But I am so hopeful that she will say yes that I cannot contain my excitement either.

  “Poppy, I do not think that your wish to have that throne destroyed is immature at all,” says Thorne. “Not only is it dangerous, and the means by which Rho was killed, but it could be used as a very powerful weapon if it fell into the wrong hands. It should be destroyed at quickly as possible.” His confident tone sets my mind at ease. Although I was only thinking of the part the throne played in Rho’s death, he is right. It could be used in horrible ways to hurt many people. I do not want that to ever happen. I am tired of people being hurt and dying.

  I turn back to Willow. “How do you think we should do this?” I rub my hands together, ready to get started.

  Although she answered my question before with no hesitation, this time, she seems startled that I even asked her. “Umm…well…I don’t…umm…” She stops and looks at me helplessly.

  “Willow, you know what you are talking about and you know not only fae magic but the elements of the Earth better than anyone I know. You can do this,” I tell her confidently. I did not lie to her or even exaggerate in the least. She may not trust her own ability, but I do, completely. Willow is one of the best healers I have ever known. She may not be the strongest when it comes to these two types of magic, but she knows more than anyone else I know. Sometimes knowledge is better than strength.

  She glances at everyone; they give her an encouraging nod, then she looks back at me. I smile at her as I watch her mentally prepare herself for her task. She takes a deep breath as she straightens her spine. “Okay. I think we can actually do it right here on the dais. I can use magic to keep the smoke and other harmful elements of the fire away, maybe push them out of the windows.” She looks around thoughtfully as she talks. I get the feeling that although she is speaking out loud, she is talking to herself more than us. “Yes, that will work. We can open up these windows. I did not realize there were so many. They all seem to be covered by such heavy drapes.” Now she glances at me. “The king sure liked it dark and creepy in here didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did,” I answer, but I do not think Willow even hears me. She is already planning out loud again.

  “Okay. We will open the drapes and windows, then I will cast a spell to send the smoke and fumes out of them.” Now she turns her attention back to the dais. “Then I can also cast a spell to contain the fire to the dais. It may get the dais a bit dirty with soot and stuff from the fire and ash. Is that okay?” She does not even look at me this time. Her finger is on her bottom lip, tapping as she thinks.

  “Yes,” I answer, only because I think I should.

  She continues after a moment. “I think I know the perfect spell for this fire. We want one that is powerful and uses as much of the Earth element as possible, but that is also easily controlled and extinguished when it has done its job. I will need to gather a few things from the Faery Forest, but other than that, I think I have a plan.” She whirls around to face us. Her cheeks are flushed, and there is a broad smile on her face reflecting her excitement.

  Gideon is instantly at her side. “It isn’t safe yet for you to go alone. I’ll go with you and help you gather what you need.” I can see that Willow wants to protest but thinks better of it. Gideon is right. It is not safe for anyone to be alone within the Unseelie court or the Faery Forest right now. There is no telling how many Unseelie escaped and are waiting to attack some unsuspecting fae.

  That is yet another problem that I or whoever takes over the Unseelie court will have to deal with, but for right now this task is much more important to me. “Perfect. Go gather what you need and we will wait for you here. The sooner we can get this over with the better.”

  13

  While Willow and Gideon are out looking for the items Willow will need for her spell, the rest of us try to busy ourselves with helping the other fae clean up. At first, I do not even know where to begin. The room is such a mess that it seems hopeless for it to ever be back to normal, if you can even call its previous state normal. I decide to just follow the lead of the other fae
around me. I begin to pick up chairs that have been knocked over and use a small amount of magic to clear blood from the walls and floor. It is a slow process, but I can definitely see progress being made. I just hope that whoever takes over as ruler here will fill this room with something that can wipe away the memories of what a cold place it has always been.

  I am torn from my thoughts when I hear Willow’s voice. Thankfully, for the first time ever, something seems to go quickly. Willow is back in just minutes, smiling excitedly as she makes her way toward us. I watch her progression and can see that she is consciously ignoring the blood and gore around her. Willow may be brave and smart, but she is still delicate. This scene will probably give her nightmares for a few days. I feel bad for that but then have to remind myself that Willow made her own decision to be here, and I do not regret giving her that choice. She has played a very important role here. She was not only able to help heal many fae, but she is also helping me to banish one of my own demons.

  She begins to speak before she even reaches our group. “Okay, so I found everything I needed just outside the castle doors. How convenient was that?” The question must have been rhetorical because she does not wait for an answer before she is rambling excitedly once again. “So I just need a space to work…” She glances around quickly. “Oh, that is perfect.” Before I even realize where she was looking, she is walking over to a small table just to the left of the stairs leading up to the dais. She places her items out one by one and gets to work.

  We crowd around behind her, close enough to see what she is doing but still giving her space to work. I recognize the items she is using right away. I may not like to use magic much, but Rho was an extremely good teacher, and I remember everything she ever taught me. Bark from a cedar tree and dragon’s blood extract are the only two items that she needed from outside. The rest of the items—dried basil, dandelion petals, and lavender oil—are taken out of the small satchel she keeps tied to her waist. These are the three basic herbs that Willow always uses when doing a spell. Each fae has their own signature, or items they work best with, that they use for the base of their spells. Willow never leaves home without these three items. The other two—the cedar tree bark and dragon’s blood—will be the factors that transform the spell into what Willow is seeking. In this case, fire.

  We watch quietly as Willow quickly and expertly mixes the herbs and oils to make a potion. She mumbles to herself as she does so, causing a few grins. She is so consumed by what she is doing that I do not think she even notices our presence. It only takes her a few minutes, and when she finishes, she looks up and lets out a small squeak of surprise, proving that she really did not know we were so close and watching her. “Sorry,” she says sheepishly. I wave off her apology.

  “Done?” I am anxious to get this going. I cannot wait to see that awful throne go up in flames, never to harm another being again.

  “Yes. I just need to get close enough to blow the dust onto the chair as I cast the spell.” She takes a step to move toward the stairs leading up onto the dais but is brought to a quick halt with three or four hands grabbing onto her arms. She looks down at the hands and turns her narrowed gaze up to each one of us. “I know what I’m doing. I only have to stand on the edge of the dais. There is no way the chair can harm me from three feet away.” She raises her eyebrows when none of us release her. I am sure my friends are just as scared as I am for her to get too close to that throne. The last time did not turn out so well.

  Gideon is the first to speak up. “I’ll walk up there with you, just in case.” With his words, the rest of us release our grip on her; well, except for Gideon.

  Willow lets out an exaggerated sigh and mumbles “whatever” as she begins to lead Gideon toward the dais. Gideon narrows his eyes in annoyance, but Willow ignores him. I cannot help but smile at how different she is now compared to when we first met. She used to be so meek and shy. Now she does not hesitate to let others know how she feels and definitely does not let others tell her what to do.

  As Willow and Gideon reach the top of the stairs, my smile turns to a frown. I know that Willow is right about her not really being in danger. Although the throne gives the appearance of being alive, it does not have the ability to reach out and pull someone in. The fae would have to go to the throne in order to be harmed. That fact does not alleviate my fear and worry over Willow’s, and now Gideon’s, closeness to it.

  I move as close as I can without actually going up the set of stairs myself. The need to be near in case Willow or Gideon needs me is strong, but so is the need to see and hear as much as possible when Willow casts the spell.

  Willow opens her palm containing the herbal dust she mixed. She places it in front her face, a few inches away and level with her lips. She points her hand toward the throne before closing her eyes. I feel the instant she begins to pull on her magic. It is as if there is a sudden light wind stirring the air around us. The other fae in the room must feel it too because all movement stops within the throne room and there is utter silence. All eyes are now focused on Willow and what she is doing.

  She begins to glow slightly, casting herself in an ethereal light that makes her even more beautiful. I listen carefully, waiting for the whispered words of the spell that will cast a fire upon the throne, destroying it for eternity. My eyes widen in surprise when Willow opens her mouth. She is not her usual meek, quiet self; instead, she speaks clearly and loudly, her voice ringing through the entire throne room.

  “Raise the flames of Mother Earth

  To destroy this weapon

  Of destruction and hurt.

  In casting this spell

  I seek your help

  Send this throne to depths of Hell.”

  Willow’s voice grows louder and louder until she shouts the final word of her spell. Her eyes narrow when she opens them, her gaze on the throne before her. As she moves her open palm closer to her face, she puckers her lips. Her usual gentle breath is replaced by a much more forceful one as she blows the dust from her hand onto the throne. The dust glitters and sparkles as it forms a cloud over the throne, almost hovering for a moment before it begins to rain down. It only takes a second for the dust to cover the chair. With a loud whoosh, the throne is engulfed in flames.

  The fire is so intense that I am forced to take a step back. I can feel the heat on my face and the sweat as it begins to bead in my hairline. I do not move back any further, though. The feeling is a nice reassurance that what I am seeing is indeed happening. The fire is breathtaking. The flames are a mixture of colors, from yellow to orange to red, then to blue and purple. They seem to dance and writhe as if they are alive, just as the bramble of thorns that make up the throne once did. I am so mesmerized by the sight before me that I do not realize Willow and Gideon have joined me until Willow reaches out to take my hand into hers. I glance at her and she offers a soft, sad smile before returning her gaze back to the flames.

  Although Willow did not know Rho, she knows me. She knows how much this means to me. It is the final piece of closure I need to finally lay Rho to rest and remember only the good times we had. Although I know the guilt will still be there, and probably always will be, at least I know I did all I could. Hopefully, now the pain will only be a dull throb instead of all consuming. I can finally be at peace with myself in knowing that I avenged her death to the fullest.

  As the fire continues to blaze we remain silent. Happy memories of Rho come to mind. For the first time, I encourage them. I seek them out wanting to remember every funny thing she ever did, every annoying thing, every mischievous thing. I feel the smile begin to spread across my face and it feels good.

  “She would be so proud of you. You know that, right?” Reed’s whispered words startle me. I had been so lost in memories that I did not think to guard them.

  I look over at him to see love and pride shining brightly in his eyes.

  “Her or you?” I do not have to explain my question. He knows what I am asking.

&nbs
p; “Both of us.” There is no hesitation in his answer, only confidence.

  “How do you know?”

  “I met her, and I’ve seen so many of your memories of her. She loved you very much. She wouldn’t blame you for anything, and she would be so proud of how much you’ve changed. I don’t think you realize it, but she always saw this within you. She was just trying to get you to see it as well.”

  “Hmm.” I do not say anything else as I turn back to the fire. I play Reed’s words over in my head and think about Rho again. Except I pick apart her words and her actions. The way she joked with me and teased me. The way she would gossip even if I didn’t act as if I were listening. The way she would encourage me to do things that I normally would not have. She always complained about Damien and the king; the way things were at the castle and the way I was treated. I realize that Reed is right. Rho knew somehow that things were not right and that I was not right. She saw the real me and never gave up on trying to make me see it as well.

  I feel the dampness on my skin as a single tear escapes my eye and rolls slowly down my cheek. I do not bother to wipe it away. Reed’s hand slips into mine and he squeezes it once gently but says nothing. We stand together, one of my hands in Willow’s and the other in Reed’s, as we silently remember Rho and wait for the Throne of Thorns to turn to ash.

  14

  The spell works just as Willow said it would. The flames stay contained to a small circle in the middle of the dais. They do not flicker or waver as if they are going to spread. It is as if they are determined to burn the one thing they are meant to. The smoke from the fire does not spread throughout the throne room either. It funnels up into the air in a perfect formation then floats over to the open windows where it disappears into the wind. Even the smell is faint and only that of pure wood burning. It is not tinged with smoke or ash. We stand silently and watch as the fire burns bright and strong for a while. Eventually, it begins to diminish on its own, then extinguishes itself. A pile of ash within a charred black circle is all remains in the throne’s place.