Fairmist

by Todd Fahnestock

  “Vecenne—” Both the emperor and Adora spoke at the same time.

  “No,” she said.

  The emperor set his jaw, looking back and forth between them.

  “Come with me, then,” he said.

  He went to the silk wall hanging of Venisha, pinched one of the crossed swords and moved it. The wall groaned behind the silk hanging, and he pushed it aside, revealing a passageway. The emperor led them up a winding staircase, and she felt an ominous feeling. Vecenne shivered, and Adora put a hand on her shoulder.

  “I will not hide anything from you,” the emperor said as they crested the edge of the floor. “But you must understand why I have done it. It was the only way.”

  Vecenne put a hand over her mouth as they stepped up onto the fitted-stone floor. The table in the center of the room had been wiped clean, but it reeked of murder. A chain hung slack over it.

  Many things had changed. Two more chests of drawers had been added, and there were weapons hanging all over the walls, exactly spaced apart as though they could not be too close together. Each was oddly formed. There were three daggers that curved roughly like an ‘S’, each different, each asymmetrical. There was a bow made of long thorns that jutted out in every direction, a quiver of black arrows beside it. There was a sword that split at the end like a forked tongue. There was a weapon that looked like a ‘T’ after it emerged from the hilt. The blades were dull steel, the handles a myriad of sickly colors. Sallow moss and blood. Feces and urine. They tore at the eye and evoked despair.

  “Oh, Father...” Vecenne whispered through her hand.

  “An emperor must lead his people. He must find a way, even if it costs him what he holds most dear.”

  “Nothing is worth this cost,” Adora whispered.

  The emperor turned. “Would you condemn everyone in the empire to death then? The littlest baby? Your own sister? Your mother?”

  “Some lines cannot be crossed,” she said.

  “Yes. But you Thiarans love to cross them,” came a child’s voice. Adora spun, drawing a swift breath.

  A tall, grotesque shadow stood on the balcony, the bright morning sky at his back. His shoulders were inhumanly wide, and long thin arms hung past his knees. Within the shadowy silhouette, two red eyes burned.

  “We have much to discuss, emperor,” the slink said.

  Chapter 50

  Adora

  “No,” Vecenne gasped, taking a step back. Adora felt small. Wild fear prickled through her. She wanted to flee down the steps, out of the palace. She wanted to run until her body could run no more.

  Vecenne backed away, but Adora caught her elbow, gripped her arm hard, and gave a little shake of her head.

  The slink was the same one Adora had met at the cave, the one who had nearly grabbed her, torn the flesh from her heel with his hot claws as the Faia lifted her into the air. He was their leader, Kuruk.

  Uneven tusks jutted up from his long chin. He was stooped, his bulky shoulders three times the width of his torso. His arms were so long that his claws dangled past his knees. His legs angled backward then forward like a dog’s, ending in cloven hooves sharp enough to crack stone. His black and red skin smoked, and Adora could feel his heat even at this distance. It filled the room.

  The creature’s eyes were dancing flames under his dark brow. It was difficult to know which way he was looking. Adora felt like he was staring right at her, but he addressed her father.

  “We had a pact,” the slink said in his child’s voice. Adora remembered the slink in Fairmist morphing into a child. She didn’t know what that meant. And now this one also sounded like a child?

  “You were never to come here again,” Father said.

  “You were to send me one of your subjects every month. You were to keep our peace.”

  “And I have!” the emperor said. “Blood for you and yours. Blood of innocents!”

  The slink’s thin lips curved in a snarl. “Thiarans lie. Betray. Murder.” He nodded toward the wall of weapons. “Tell me, emperor. What did you intend to do with these? What could you possibly use them for? Is this how you honor our peace?”

  The emperor’s lips tightened, and he tensed, ready to leap.

  Adora felt light-headed. This was how it would begin. She felt the strength of the prophecy building within her. They were caught, and there was no time to change anything. This was when the slinks would cover the empire with a second war. And there was no Whisper Prince to stop them.

  Create the answer.

  Her mind raced. She felt like she was in a room with no doors, looking for a way out. Then it came to her.

  “Take me,” she heard herself say. She stepped forward, let go of Vecenne.

  “Mimi, no!” Vecenne said.

  Adora held up her hand, walked toward the slink. She couldn’t permit a second Slink War. The Order would have another plan. Perhaps there was another who could be the Whisper Prince, if Adora could keep the slinks from returning in force, if there was only a little more time.

  “Ah, the lost daughter,” the slink said, his flame eyes flickering. “I looked for you, but you eluded me.”

  “Then take me now,” she said. “Forgive my father his trespasses and take me as you did before.”

  “Mialene, I forbid it!” the emperor said.

  She ignored him. “Take me.”

  “You are so willing this time,” the slink said. “So reluctant before.” He paused. “Why is that, I wonder?”

  “I am a woman now, not a child. I know what is at stake. We cannot stand against you. We rely on your mercy.”

  The slink chuckled. “A woman, indeed. A woman who has studied and worked hard, I think. Your father is preparing for a war. What are you preparing for?”

  “I only want the empire to be safe.”

  “You wish for what you humans call a ‘second chance’?”

  “Yes.”

  “Or do you just want more time to continue your plot against us?”

  Adora’s mouth dried up.

  “Where is the Whisper Prince?” the slink asked.

  She paused, unable to speak. It was so hard to think around the thudding fear emanating from the slink.

  “Where is he?” the slink repeated.

  “He is dead,” she said breathlessly.

  The slink narrowed his eyes, and smoke curled up from the edges. She felt his gaze like a hot hand across her cheeks, and he nodded. “Indeed.” The slink looked at the emperor, then back at Adora. “If I give you your second chance, will you honor your part of the pact?”

  “I will,” Adora said.

  The slink nodded, then pointed his taloned hand at her father. Fire shot from his finger, striking the emperor in the chest. Blood and flesh splattered the wall, and her father toppled over backwards.

  “Father!” Vecenne screamed.

  Crumpled against the wall, the emperor touched the hole that went clean through him. He gave a little sigh, then slumped over.

  Vecenne lunged toward him, skidded on her knees. She yanked at him, trying to bring him upright. “Father! No!” Her voluminous cloak settled over the dead man as she pulled futilely, sobbing.

  Adora stood completely still, shocked.

  The slink turned his attention back to her. “I am dealing with you now,” he said. “Do not disappoint me—”

  “KURUK!” a thundering voice interrupted them. Blevins staggered up the stairs into view. His head was bent sideways. His body was dark with blood, and he dragged Baezin’s Blade on the steps behind him. Clink. Clink. Clink.

  “If you want to deal with someone, deal with me,” he growled.

  Chapter 51

  Adora

  “Magnus,” Kuruk hissed. His burning gaze went to the huge man’s sword.

  Fresh blood dripped from Blevins, and his feet made red prints on the floor.

  Blevins brought up Baezin’s Blade, and despite his tattered appearance, the blade was steady. He shuffled toward Kuruk.

  The slink bare
d his pointed teeth. “The girl has just bargained for Thiara. Is this how you would end her treaty?”

  “I would end you,” Blevins growled.

  Kuruk’s eyes narrowed.

  “No!” Adora shouted. The Order told her that the slinks had come through a rip in the air, bringing through thousands of their kind in the first Slink War. The rip had closed when the pact was made, but the prophecy said they would do it again, and that only the Whisper Prince could stop them. Except there was no Whisper Prince. There was only her.

  “Blevins, wait!” she said.

  He ignored her. He was almost to the balcony. Vecenne continued to cry over Father, and each sob was like a knife in Adora’s ears. She wanted to shout at her sister to shut up.

  Kuruk held up a hand and fear burst so strongly within Adora that the room vibrated. Cold sweat dribbled down her ribs and beaded on her forehead. She couldn’t breathe.

  Her sister fell quiet. Even Blevins faltered, but he struggled against his own balking muscles to take another step.

  Adora grabbed his arm, stalling him for one moment. Then he roared. With the strength of a bear, he threw her aside. She skidded across the flat stones and went over the edge of the circular floor.

  Her shoulder and neck slammed into the wall, and she dropped onto the steps, sharp edges hitting her like swords. She tried to protect her head as she tumbled. The stairs again. The wall again. She reached out, fingernails scraping futilely against stone. A stair crunched hard into her back, and she stopped, groaning, struggling to breathe.

  Above, out of sight now, Blevins roared. Steel clanged on stone. Red fire lit the walls of the stairway, and he roared again.

  “You have made your choice!” Kuruk shrieked.

  Fire flared, and Blevins bellowed. Adora lifted her head. The pain in her side was like a knife, and she couldn’t breathe. She had to get up to that room. Somehow, she had to stop him. The war couldn’t start all over again. She couldn’t let it. Adora rolled onto her hands and knees. She pressed her hand to her side and gritted her teeth. It felt like someone had taken a club to her arms and back.

  “The pact is done!” Kuruk shrieked.

  A strong wind whooshed down the stairway. A faint chittering echoed off the walls, and Adora’s blood went cold. It was the same sound that had started it all, so long ago. It was the same sound she had heard as the slinks poured into Thiara.

  Vecenne screamed.

  “No!” Adora said. She fought herself, trying to get her frozen muscles to move. She had to reach her sister. “Please,” she whispered. “Not again.” Cold tears squeezed out the sides of her eyes. Her whole body shook, and she forced her foot up another step.

  A terrible weight bore down on her, trying to shove her away from the room. Her fingers scraped on stone, and she pushed herself upright, moved her foot to the next step.

  A slink’s face appeared out of the darkness on a long, black neck. Not Kuruk. Another one. They were coming. Thousands of them.

  Its bulging eyes were like white onions; its smile was lined with teeth as long as her fingers. It opened its mouth and gave a whispering laugh.

  Her will broke, and she turned and ran down the stairs, slamming into one wall and then the other. She burst into her father’s bedroom and spun around.

  “Please,” she whispered. “We’ll be good. Please—”

  She heard movement behind her, and a black claw closed over her shoulder.

  Adora screamed.

  Chapter 52

  Adora

  Adora launched herself away, but the claw kept hold of her, jerked her off her feet. She crumpled to the floor, squeezing her eyes shut. Images filled her mind: slinks rending, tearing, killing. “We’ll be good!”

  “Adora!” A hand slapped her. A human hand. Her eyes flew open.

  Grei stood over her, his face stern. She sucked in a thin breath.

  He pulled her to her feet.

  “Grei!” she exclaimed. “What—?”

  The long-necked monster slithered underneath the tapestry, hissing. Orange flame lit the stairway behind it.

  Grei pulled her across the room and spun her around. The slink rose up, and Grei whispered, hugging Adora tightly.

  The slink lunged, its long neck like a spear, jaws snapping. But Grei and Adora dropped through the floor. Then they were in the room below, falling from the ceiling. Grei whispered in her ear, words she didn’t understand. They hit the next floor, and the stone became water. Then the next and the next, each splashing red and white marble on them, past them. Then the air grabbed at them, holding them, slowing their descent, and they landed in soft sand.

  They were in the great room of the palace, four stories straight down, and she was knee deep in red and white sand the same color as the floor. She looked up and saw a hole in the stone ceiling slowly reforming, knitting itself together as drops of marble dripped down.

  “By the Faia,” she said, gazing at Grei.

  He stepped onto the solid marble floor and helped her out of the sand. As she joined him, he whispered something, and the floor reformed into the red and white marble squares.

  His once-open face was grim. He had light whiskers along his jaw, and his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His left forearm had been transformed. It wasn’t burnt flesh anymore but a skeletal hand wrapped in charcoal-colored skin.

  “I thought you were dead,” she whispered.

  “You saved me,” he said. “You pulled me back.”

  He touched her, and she flung herself on him, pressed her head against his chest. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Images flashed through her mind. That little house in Fairmist, shutters closed against the wet. Grei opening the front door and pushing back his cloak, smiling. The little blue-eyed girl splashing through puddles. Then the three of them sitting by the hearth, together. Happy. Safe and loved. A normal life.

  A scream rose in the courtyard, shocking her out of the daydream. The slinks were in the city.

  She disengaged herself, and it was almost more than she could bear. She focused on his face, made herself into the woman she needed to be. The strong woman. The one who could face anything.

  “It’s time to save the children,” she said softly. Every word was a tiny chisel, taking another curl out of her heart, and she let her dream die.

  His haunted eyes told her that he had learned what the prophecy meant, that he knew she had to die to send the slinks away.

  More screams ripped through the quiet. More Thiarans dying.

  With shaking hands, she touched his cheeks. “I knew this price from the beginning. I will pay it.”

  “What if we run?” he said. “Give ourselves time to think of something else.”

  “Listen to the screams, Grei. This is the moment we stop the slinks. This moment, and no other. For just one more death, everyone can live. Right now. Only now.”

  His jaw clenched. “I can’t kill you.”

  “We’ll do it together,” she whispered, leading him forward.

  They left the great room. A seven-legged slink loped down the hall after a screaming woman. One of the woman’s wooden shoes turned, and she went down. The slink leapt upon her and ripped into her neck. Adora yanked Grei quickly in the other direction, through a doorway and into the open air.

  Deep horns sounded, warning Thiara’s citizens too late. Black slinks spilled into the courtyard, devouring, chasing anyone who ran. Already, bodies of the dead littered the ground.

  Grei wrenched Adora out of the way of a flying slink. It hissed as it passed, and she felt the flecks of its spittle. It landed on a Highblade just beyond them, claws tearing into him. Its wings beat furiously as it lifted the Highblade off the ground. The Highblade struggled, and the slink tore his arm off. The arm fell on the ground next to them.

  A woman at a third floor balcony leapt to her death. The slinks chased her, scuttling onto the wall outside the window as she smashed into the ground.

  “By the Faia,” Grei whispered
.

  “Come on!” she urged. She stooped and snatched a dagger from a dead man’s belt. They ran toward the temple of the Faia.

  The Thiaran Temple of the Faia was a circular structure with a dome overhead supported by nothing but air. A maze of water channels curved underneath the dome in concentric circles, folding back on themselves seven times as they worked their way toward the center. At the outermost ring, seven tongues of fire burned straight up from the water. In the center a fountain flowed upward, rising two stories tall before disappearing into the air. It represented all of the elements, a tribute to the Faia.

  She slowed to a stop before the rising pillar of water. I was the first Blessed, she thought. I will be the last.

  Chapter 53

  Grei

  I’ll think of something.

  Grei recalled what he had said to Selicia days ago, but now he was here, he had no ideas, and he had run out of time.

  His promise, so fervently given, was the empty promise of a boy. And now he was trapped. He hadn’t been able to defeat even one slink in Fairmist. How could he defeat hundreds?

  Maybe he could save Adora for a short time. He could run away with her while the rest of the empire went to slaughter. Or he could follow the prophecy and protect them all. All except one.

  “Grei.” She tugged his hand, leading him into the temple’s shallow pool. He sloshed in next to her, and icy water seeped into his boots. He looked around like the answer might drop from the sky. All he saw were slinks, slashing and killing. All he heard were screams.

  Adora drew her hand down his cheek, gently turned his face toward hers. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  She had the courage to do what must be done. To give up herself, her dreams, for the benefit of everyone else.

  Grei wasn’t a boy anymore. He couldn’t blame his parents or the delegate or the emperor. He was the one, the only one, who could fix this.

  She pressed the dagger into his palm. It was hot, as if the last of her life had seeped into the steel wire grip.