by Elle Lincoln
“Told you.” My mom peeks over the edge, glancing down below and nodding to herself. “Interesting woman you chose.”
I stare up at her, completely blanking on things to say. There is no etiquette for these types of situations. Or none I am aware of. “How?” Mae kept this from me. The thought makes me grind my teeth in annoyance.
“Did you expect her to tell you all her secrets when you haven’t been forthcoming either?” She raises her transparent blonde brow, her fae eyes sparkling just as they always had, rendering me speechless. “What of her powers did you gain?”
I groan before leaning back, closing my eyes against this reality. “Not as much as I’m sure she’s suspecting I did.” I rub the tension from my chest, my heart aching with how fucked up our relationship has become.
“Well, you can see me, can you cross the veil?” She swirls her longsword around, and I can’t help but wonder if it carries the weight it once had.
“In small spurts. Why didn’t I ever see you before?” How did I miss this? Often times, I struggled to avoid her Gram and the dead that still linger.
“Because I didn’t want you to.”
“How did you know?” I feel like a child again. Only this time, it won’t include swordplay.
She snorts in a very unladylike way. “I’m your mother, you fool. Plus, I’m much more sane than I was the last time you saw me.”
I laugh, the absurd moment becoming almost too damn much for me to comprehend. “Sane? You believe yourself to be sane? Come now, woman, not even death can grant you that.”
“Boy, you speak out of line. There is a fine line between personality and sanity.” She’s actually offended, but unlike when I was a child, there is no fear of consequence. I can tell this woman exactly how I feel. “Stop, I can see the argument in your eyes, the poison dripping from your tongue. You are still yet a boy. You know not of the world that exists, but you will and when you do, you will continue to fail until you get your shit together.”
Nothing like a pep talk from a parent. “Fine, school me, oh great one.” Exhaustion finally settles upon my shoulders, the world cutting me to the bone, and its mostly my fault. Mae is my fault. But my mother’s ire surely isn’t.
She kneels before me. “There is a way for the insane to become one with their minds once more. You may be a god, but your second born may not. Listen to my words before you stumble around in the dark.”
“Children are not an option right now.” I laugh.
“But they may be.”
“Woman, where are you even going with this?” I stare at her wild eyes. Jumping from topic to topic is something she did often when she lived, so why did I believe it would be any different in death?
“Sanity flees the fae, mine was gone years before I died. There may have been choices made that no longer go unnoticed.” A chill creeps up my spine.
“Mother, what did you do?”
She stands, stepping upon the ledge and glancing out across the city. I turn to catch the visual she presents. Her fae armor glistens in the sunlight, creating a glow that surrounds her in death that never existed in life. I’d be a fool to believe she has completely changed, and yet her face crumples with emotion I never saw growing up with her. The feelings coursing through me are disorienting.
“Do you believe in forgiveness? Or do you believe that the mind finds ways to ease the burden of guilt, creating a false sense of forgiveness.” Her eyes close as her head turns toward the sun. I don’t dare interrupt this moment of clarity she’s having. “I believe that in death we see.” She glances down at me. “It is the only way to see all the things we did wrong, what we did right. Living is meant for the living, but understanding can only be defined when there is no more living.”
I scramble up, staring at her. “Mom, what have you done?”
“I made a mistake, Flynn.” Finally, she looks down at me. “You know not of your family. It’s time we change that.”
She darts at me, and my eyes widen as she moves through me, her ethereal essence pulling me through the veil, and I can do nothing but succumb to the fall.
My stomach drops as we travel through layers of existence, the drain dragging me down since I don’t have all of Mae’s powers. But I should have known mother wasn’t the only one involved in this excursion.
“I believe he will have hope in another century, perhaps two, but now he is just a fledgling.” A kick to my gut has me rolling onto my side at I glower up at the pushy goddess. “Ahh, there’s that fighting spirit. Up, boy, your time here is limited. Though you stole my power, it doesn’t grant you full access.”
“Up, boy,” Mom demands, sounding more like the woman I knew.
Somehow, I feel even more like a child now. I roll over to stand on unsteady feet. Brushing the dust from my suit, I glance around. “Where the hell are we?”
“The Summer Court.” My mother’s voice almost holds a hint of awe.
“Impossible, the Realm fell.” My eyes widen as I look all around me. A woman with dark hair and violet eyes faces off with a man in white. Her face contorts into a scream as a blonde in ratty clothing pierces a knife through a man’s chest. “What the fuck is this?”
“The past.”
“Why are you showing me this?” All of this happened already? There is nothing I can do to stop the chaos around me?
“That blonde will find you,” Morrigan tells me.
“She’s your cousin, Flynn. And more powerful than any fae.” My mother smiles one of those homicidal smiles that scares the shit out of me. “She’s incredible, but losing her grip with reality. She is bound for now.”
“Okay, but why are you showing me this?”
“You don’t understand the fae. Believe it or not, I sheltered you.” My mother sounds partially proud of that fact.
I look at Morrigan. “Is she fucking serious?”
“Yes,” she replies without a hint of emotion. Her arm spreads out and the scene changes. “The fae courts hold many desires. Most of those coming from the existing children. Like you, they yearn for the love of a parent.” She holds up a hand to stave off any protest. “You are young, not stupid. Don’t act a fool. Many of these children develop ways to hold their own.”
The scene changes, a child wiping off a bloody knife as another falls to the ground, the life draining from his eyes. “Why are you showing me this?” My voice breaks.
“This is the type of individual you are searching for,” Morrigan replies.
“My cousin?”
“Not her. She will need your help eventually, but not yet. In kind, she will help you. But first, the child.” Morrigan waves her hand again as school children wander about a foreign landscape. “Fae schools are brutal. Because they are descendants of gods and yet without the power of a god, they make a name for themselves in other ways.”
I watch as a scene unfolds where a boy, similar to the one in the previous scene, spins, slicing the calves of his opponent. I wince as he falls to the ground, but then I look at the child’s eyes where no love, no light, lives there.
“You sheltered me from fae school?” I almost scoff.
“Killing another is common ground.” My mother’s eyes almost appear full of unshed tears.
“Is this your past?”
“No, foolish child. That is a boy.” She waves a hand down the front of her with a raised brow.
“Yes, Mother.” I roll my eyes, glancing back at the scene before me. The child ages, sequestered in a small library with books surrounding him in a tower. Dust clings to him, telling how long he’s been there. “Who is that child?”
“Finally, he asks the right questions.” Morrigan smiles with amusement. “Watch.”
He snaps his fingers, his brows pinched as he tries to do... something. Then, just faintly, a flicker of a flame sparks then dies.
“He can’t do magic.” Then it finally hits me. “That’s the changeling. Are they all changelings?”
“At the school? No. The fae prefer t
o pass off a child as their own. He believed he was fae. They all eventually figure it out. When immortality passes by, upon their twenty-seventh birthday.” Morrigan waves a hand, but this time the scene is blurred, even though I can almost make out the murder taking place.
“If death and murder is common in fae schools, how do mortals survive?”
“They usually don’t.” Morrigan and my mother face me. Everything fades to that ethereal world where the dead pass through. “They die. Instead of raising a mortal child as it is, the fae raise it to be fae. The consequence is great—a child struggling in a world it lives in, but is not a part of.”
“But he learned. He figured out how to wield magic at a younger age. How long has this been going on?” How many immortals have died because the fae just couldn’t seem to leave the mortals alone?
My mother’s lips tip up. “A long time.”
Everything dissolves until we are standing back on the roof. The sun hangs lower in the sky as an icy drizzle falls from the heavy cloud cover. “So, this changeling, he’s figured out how to become an immortal?” I struggle to understand just how dangerous this being is, though my gut screams that the danger has only just begun.
“Yes,” comes their simple reply.
“My father’s involvement?”
“Again, that is the correct question.” Morrigan peeks over the ledge where Mae jumped off with a smile on her face. She is probably watching the scene play out in her head. I look away.
“You will have to find him,” my mother states, but her words hold little compassion for the man who murdered her.
“He really didn’t stage this?” I point to his precious greenhouse.
“Surprisingly not.” Morrigan frowns. “Though it would have been a strategic play.”
Great, so now we really do have to look for him. I rub the crust from my eyes, needing a nap. “Now what?”
“You need to find Mae first.” Morrigan laughs. “Better yet…” She grabs my hand, spiraling us through reality until I stumble into a bar.
“McCleary’s?” But then the singing hits me. “They got a karaoke machine to work,” I state blandly. But Morrigan is already running off to jump on stage where Mae stands, belting out notes of a song I can’t even discern.
Rocco steps up beside me. “You’ve missed much. Mae is, well, I don’t want to say drunk, but she is definitely on her way.” He laughs, sipping a drink of his own.
I want to pull her off that stage, tell her we just don’t have time for this, but her laughter rings like a bell around the room. I’ve caused her enough pain today. My father’s a big boy, he’ll be okay for the night. But my relationship with Mae may not be alright if I run off.
Instead, I make my way to the crowded bar, surprised to see as many people as I do milling about. I resist the urge to shut the bar down. To tell these people to go home. We may be safer than we were, but it isn’t as safe as it once was here. Where before one could walk around after midnight without fear, now there are those hidden in the shadows, watching the others hidden in the shadows.
If I speculate on it, however, I can admit that was always the reality. There were always unknowns hidden where we couldn’t see them or in plain sight. Many overlook those who are different, thinking their mind is playing tricks on the senses.
I slide into the bar. As I do, Marrok slides a beer across to me. “Thanks, man.”
“Your girl has a terrible voice,” the bald-headed werewolf remarks without emotion, and yet right there, his lips quirk up just a bit before laughter rolls out of him in waves.
Too shocked to move, I watch as he makes his way to the other side of the bar.
“He has a terrifying laugh, doesn’t he?” Argos whispers, apparently in awe of his boyfriend, contradicting his words. “So…” Wearing his brilliant red robe, he turns and studies me. His reddish-brown brows arching up to his hairline. “How are you going to fix it?”
“I assume Mae has spoken with you.” The words are sour on my tongue.
“Hm, yes, she did. You’re going to fuck it all up if you pull shit like that.”
“I’m aware of my faults, Argos.” I spin to stare at the stage where Mae and Morrigan begin a duet. I wince, but the crowd roars. “They are only cheering for her because she can kill them,” I mutter.
“See, that’s your problem.”
“What is?”
“You sit there and you wince at her voice, but you miss the bigger picture.” He sips his red drink with an equally as red umbrella.
“I’m not missing any bigger picture, I see her happiness,” I argue.
“You foolish boy.” He pauses, making me wish people would stop saying that to me today. “You look at her, but do you actually see her? She smiles, but you miss the heartache in her eyes. The crowd cheers not because she cannot sing, but because they see her with keen perception. They see more than just a goddess who can kill them. They see a kindred soul just needing to let the stress of this world dissolve. You miss that because you see what she can do, not who she is.”
A blush creeps up my neck. Argos hums at me before moving away. Have I missed the subtle intricacies of this woman? Have I only been seeing her ability? I slump in my stool, realizing the fucking witch just might be right. Again.
Chapter 16
Mae
Thud-thud-thud.
I groan, rolling over as violent rays of sun stream through the magnifying glass that humans call windows. Pain pierces my skull like a church bells with each thump of the door.
“No,” I groan.
But whoever is on the other side clearly isn’t listening to me as they push the door wide open, and a small woman with brown ringlets smirks at me. The brownie knows what she’s done, and I’d say she is proud of it.
“You’ve slept in long enough, miss. Get up.” She places a cup of creepy looking liquid on the side table. Wiping the drool from my lips, I sit up in bed. Flynn’s bed. I suppose I’m not even surprised by that. “The master will be in shortly, and you smell like a two-bit hooker who rolled around in the ashes of the dead before walking through a storm of blood.” She hands the cup to me as I struggle to even process what the hell she just said.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” She opens her mouth to repeat that exact sentence, but I stop her. “Don’t, I heard it, I just wasn’t expecting it.”
Then the crazy little thing chomps her teeth at me. “Drink, shower, and wash the scent off of ye.” She points to Flynn’s personal bathroom. “I’ve laundered that jacket of yers and there are fresh clothes in there for ya. Try not to throw that up.”
I sit there, astonished, as she bounces out of the room. “That woman does not like me,” I grumble. I eye the green goo, it looks a lot like my magical essence, it even glows. I hate it already. For all I know, the little demon could be poisoning me. I lift the glass to my nose and sniff, and I swear the shit is bubbling.
But the pounding in my head urges me to try it, because the nearest pharmacy has been wiped out for a month now. My tongue reaches out, tasting just a bit, and... it’s not so bad. I drink a bit. “Tastes like green apple with a hint of brown sugar.” I chug it, hoping there isn’t arsenic at the bottom of the glass.
Setting it down, I climb out of bed just as the liquid hits me with the force of a tornado. Groaning, I slump over, my insides feeling like they’re on fire. “Oh, the little bitch poisoned me.”
“She didn’t poison you.” Gram, my gram that has been decidedly quiet for days, pops in.
“I’m dying,” I reiterate.
“She made you a hangover cure. What do you think has to happen for it to work?” Gram laughs. “Oh! Oh! You thought magic wouldn’t hurt, didn’t you?”
I barely make it to the bathroom before I begin dry heaving.
“She told you not to puke it up.”
I clamp my mouth shut just as saliva fills my mouth and my eyes begin to water.
“Magic hurts, sunshine. Just because there is a potion to help you
heal doesn’t mean it will be painless. In fact, it will probably hurt like hell.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the old broad is enjoying this.
“Who is Alloysius?” I grind out, just to make her equally as uncomfortable.
I watch as her fact contorts, probably mimicking mine to some degree. “I suppose I deserved that.” She bobs her perfectly coiffed hair, something she still has yet to teach me. She even promised! “Fine, he is a relative.”
The nausea begins to pass, whether from the distraction or my digestion, I don’t know. But I’m thankful for it. “No shit.”
“Fine. He’s to thank for our whole damn family mess.” She flops into the bathtub and it almost looks like she’s resting in there, but I know better.
Either way, she now has my attention and I can’t decide if I want to puke once more from the revelation or not. “I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to elaborate on that just a hair.”
“He made the deal with the djinn.” My eyes widen.
“His soul?” I don’t know why I care so much if the bastard has his soul or not, but I do.
“His alright. The djinn was amused by the request, since he’d get to watch the women die generation after generation, which granted him endless pleasure. Alloysius got to keep his soul.” She shrugs like it’s nothing, but it’s more than that, it quite literally is my history.
“How is he a vampire?”
“Oh, that.” She blinks before speaking, almost like she’s talking to someone. Probably the voices in her head. “Well, after his wife died and his daughter was born, he swore he’d fix it, and so he sought out a vampire.”
“How did a mortal even know about that world?” I didn’t even know, so how the hell did he?
“Life was different then, and we are talking over a thousand years ago.”
“Different how?” I just caught a whiff of my breath and I smell like death, Maryann was not kidding. Not at all. I shudder at having to smell myself again, though surprisingly, her concoction worked.
“The actual Dark Ages? From what he told me, it was like living in vast nothing, forests surrounded everything, where the fae lived more freely. The wolves roamed and the spirits played. The gods did their thing, you know, messing with people’s lives and all at their whim. But it was what it was.”
