Rise of the Fey

by Alessa Ellefson

  I let my gaze trail over to the center of the room where Jennifer and her cronies are still enjoying themselves, apparently not taking this whole war business quite as seriously as Lance and Arthur are.

  With a jolt of surprise, I catch Jennifer still glaring at me. Why can’t the girl leave me alone? Then again, I realize, her lover’s bypassed her table to come talk to me, a slight she’ll probably never forget.

  A slow smile spreads on my face as I realize she must be dying of jealousy right now, and I can’t help but enjoy getting her to squirm for once.

  I put my hand on Lance’s forearm, before simpering up at him. “Alright,” I say, batting my eyelashes. “You can tell Arthur I’ll be right there, just as soon as I’m done here. And I promise I’ll eat fast!”

  My shift in attitude must have taken Lance by surprise for he looks flustered, mouth agape. Finally, he straightens up, nods curtly at me, and strides back outside.

  “That’s exactly what I was talking about,” Keva says. “Now just do that in front of Arthur, and you’ll get him to talk. You may want to drop the whole fluttering of eyelashes though, it makes you look like you’re having a seizure.”

  I shrug. Doesn’t matter what she thinks, or even Lance for that matter. I glance at Jennifer and have the pleasure of seeing her scowling so fiercely she may be in danger of looking common for the first time in her life. With another smile, I wave at her before returning to my meal.

  “Now what were you saying about Arthur?” I ask, making sure to cut my steak in smaller, more manageable chunks.

  But I barely have a chance to swallow another bite when someone kicks my chair from underneath me and I fall forward, cracking my head on the table and spilling my food everywhere.

  “Now that was quite unnecessary,” I say, rubbing my chin as I get back up.

  “We’re just getting rid of the trash,” Jennifer’s mellifluous voice says as she struts over with her whole retinue. “There’s been such a nasty smell about the place lately.”

  “Must be your breath then,” I mutter. “You should make sure to brush your teeth twice a day and floss regularly you know.”

  I have the pleasure of seeing Jennifer flush in anger before someone slaps my face with the power of a demolition ball. Tears spring to my eyes and I cup my burning cheek.

  “You’ll speak with respect when addressing Lady Jennifer,” says a round-faced boy, his tightly curled hair bouncing on his head like tiny springs.

  I immediately recognize him as Hector, the KORT knight who wanted me back in jail when Arthur introduced me as his squire. Behind him, Jennifer’s little fan club chortles loudly, pleased to see me humiliated in such a public fashion, Daniel loudest of all.

  “I’ll treat her the way she deserves to be treated,” I retort, feeling the tell-tale signs of anger bubbling beneath my skin.

  “It’s OK, Hector,” Jennifer says, flinging her long, golden hair back. “She’s too used to her own stink to notice it, just as demons can’t tell the smell of sulfur anymore either.” She circles me like a vulture, grimacing. “You may think you have duped us into believing you’re one of ours, but you can’t fool me. You never have. Not with those eyes of yours.”

  I catch myself lowering my eyelids before I stop. I will not bow down to anyone anymore, least of all her.

  “Be careful, Lady Jennifer,” Sophie says. “Look at how she’s glaring at you. I heard she set a guard on fire with her witchcraft simply for standing in her way.”

  “Witchcraft?” Jennifer says, laughing delicately. “It’s been a while since we’ve had an execution for such a capital offense, but I think it’s high time we reinstated the tradition, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely,” Sophie says with a malevolent smirk.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Hector says, his hand going to a dagger at his belt. “Her kind don’t make for that great of a fire display, but they can make pretty good slaves, and we are suffering from a shortage of oghams.”

  I watch Daniel push his way to the front of the little crowd. “Let me do the honors of capturing her ogham for you,” he says, bowing to Jennifer.

  “Buzz off, Daniel,” Keva says. “Nobody’s asked anything of you. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to handle more than an elemental anyway.”

  Daniel’s face turns bright red. “Stay out of this, Kulkarni, if you know what’s good for you,” he says.

  But his words don’t seem to have much of an effect on Keva. “What would be good for me,” she says, “would be not to have to listen to you braying everywhere all the time. It stresses me out. And if I’m stressed out, my adrenal glands are overworked, which is bad for my sleep, and therefore bad for my looks.”

  “Enough!” Hector says, his fists glowing blue. “That changeling’s made a mockery of our Order by becoming a squire, and is further sullying us by disrespecting our ranks. I will send that demon spawn back where she belongs.”

  There’s a flash of blue and Hector’s meaty fist swings towards me, catching me in the nose. I hear a loud crunch as my head snaps backwards, before I go crashing through tables and chairs like a bowling ball through pins.

  I finally come to a stop among a group of screaming pages, feeling like I’ve just been trampled over by a pack of elephants. Shaking my head clear, I slowly get back to my feet and wipe the blood from my nose.

  Time to fight fire with fire.

  Whatever barrier inside me was keeping my anger in check disintegrates, and I feel a tingling sensation spread quickly through my limbs, hot and demanding, before flames burst to life above my outstretched fingers.

  “Morgan, what are you doing?” Keva says, skirting the upturned chairs and spilled food to get to me.

  “He attacked first,” I say, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes.

  “He’s a KORT knight, and human,” Keva says, more urgently. “Behaving like this isn’t going to help your case.”

  “I know and I don’t care,” I growl.

  Behind her, I see Hector crouch into a fighting position.

  “Get out of the way, Keva,” I say.

  But before she can react, Hector bounds forward, a high-speed jet of water shooting from his left hand towards me. Except Keva’s in the way, her back still turned to him. I curse under my breath and jump towards her, my flames roaring high before me like a gigantic barrier.

  I reach Keva and pull her away, using my body to shield her as the stream of water hurls into my flames in a loud, hissing explosion of blazing vapor.

  Then something long and sharp cuts into my side, scraping off my ribs. Screaming, I let go of Keva before falling over. I’m dimly aware of doors slamming open and booted feet pounding the floor on their way over as Hector pulls his knife back out and crouches over me.

  “What do you think you’re doing to my squire?” Arthur roars.

  There’s a flash of green and Hector shoots through the air onto one of the fluted pillars, then remains pinned to it, five feet above the floor.

  I roll over in pain, and someone comes to help me up.

  “You alright there?” Lance asks.

  I nod, not trusting myself to speak as Arthur eyes my torn jacket, blood still dripping profusely from it.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he asks, turning towards Hector. “Why did you attack my squire?”

  “Darling,” Jennifer says, laying her hand on Arthur’s arm to calm him down. “She was being insubordinate, and since you weren’t present to subdue her, we decided to handle the business ourselves. Unfortunately”—she pouts prettily—“your pet is quite feral and attacked us.”

  “Is this true?” Arthur asks me, his grey eyes blazing.

  I feel myself blanch at the injustice of the accusation and at how quickly he’s ready to take her side. It doesn’t matter what I tell him at this point, I realize, he wouldn’t believe me anyway.

  “Yes,” I say scathingly, and wince as my insides twist viciously, as if Hector’s knife were still stuck inside me.
/>   Lance tightens his hold around my arms to prevent me from dropping to the floor and I wince as he presses against my wound.

  “That is not true, Sir Arthur,” Keva says, edging forward. “They attacked Morgan while we were eating, the moment Sir Lance left us.”

  “She used her powers against us, Arthur,” Jennifer says, frowning at Keva, obviously unaccustomed to having people contradict her. “Clearly she can’t be controlled. You need to put her back in jail, at the very least, before she does anything worse.”

  “She did it to protect me,” Keva says louder.

  I blink at her, surprised at her vehement defense of me, especially against someone of Jennifer’s social standing.

  “If it hadn’t been for Morgan,” Keva continues, repressing a shiver, “Hector would have killed me.”

  Quick as an eel, Sophie advances on Keva and slaps her. “How dare you speak against a knight, squire!” Sophie snarls. “You should be flogged for such base conduct.”

  “I will decide who gets to be punished and for what,” Arthur growls, and Sophie skips fearfully back to Jennifer’s side, as if stung.

  “If you don’t believe me,” Keva says, “ask Morgan.”

  “Who in their right mind would ever trust a Fey?” Jennifer asks with a roll of the eyes.

  “It’s because she’s Fey that you should trust her,” Keva says with a tight smile. “You see, she can’t lie.”

  A stunned silence welcomes her words, and I feel every gaze level upon me once again.

  “How can you be so sure?” Arthur asks, frowning deeply.

  “She’s in violent pain whenever she tries to, Sir,” Keva says. “I’ve seen it happen.”

  My eyes grow wide at the revelation. I have heard of Fey being unable to lie before, I just never expected it to be one of the traits I’d inherit from them. That would certainly explain a thing or two. I lower my gaze at Keva in annoyance—she had to hide that from me too, didn’t she?

  “Try her,” Keva says. “See for yourself.”

  Arthur looks at me pensively. “Are you hurt?” he asks.

  I frown at the obviously fake concern in his voice. “No,” I say through gritted teeth, waiting for pain to rake my body before I realize I spoke true.

  Looking down, I see white, flawless skin peeking out from the hole in my shirt, the knife wound healed over as if it never were. I let my breath out in a sharp hiss of surprise.

  Lance’s hand carefully prods my ribcage, inadvertently tickling me, and I burst out in nervous giggles.

  “The injury’s healed over,” he says, stepping away from me.

  After a second’s hesitation, Arthur nods, as if he might have been expecting it.

  “Did you get into an altercation with the Lady Jennifer?” Arthur asks next.

  “Her and I fight? Never, we’re best friends her and I,” I say sarcastically.

  But the words have barely left my lips when I double over in pain, as if someone has reached in and pulled my innards out. My vision clouds over and I feel myself sink to the floor, before strong, sturdy arms steady me.

  “Convenient, isn’t it?” Keva says merrily before winking at me. “She comes with a built-in lie detector.”

  “Who attacked you?” Arthur asks, as Lance helps me regain my balance.

  “He did,” I say, motioning towards Hector still pinned to the pillar. “What a stupid thing to ask.”

  This time, no agonizing cramps bear down on me and I breathe a little easier.

  “Why is that?” Arthur asks.

  “Why don’t you ask him that question?” I retort. “Although I think the answer is quite evident.”

  “Did the Lady Jennifer do anything to you?” Arthur continues.

  “Arthur!” Jennifer exclaims, shocked at the implied accusation leveled against her.

  Arthur ignores her and stares at me, waiting for an answer.

  “No,” I finally say. “Unless you count verbal harassment.”

  “What about her use of EM against us?” Jennifer spits out, showing the burn marks all over the floor and the remains of a couple of chairs.

  “Did you use your power against another student?” Arthur asks.

  “I did,” I say, raising my chin in defiance. “Was that wrong? Was I supposed to let Hector school me by cleaving me in half? Or are you sad because his dagger didn’t find my heart?”

  Arthur’s lips thin out. “Who made use of oghams first?” he asks, turning to Keva.

  “He did,” Keva says, pointing without hesitation at Hector still stuck up on his pillar.

  Hector doesn’t respond, but I can see the whites of his eyes as he glowers at me, and I know without a doubt that this isn’t over.

  Just then, the walls of the dining hall shake as the tocsin bells ring the alarm, and we all look about in fear as we know what it means:

  Another attack.

  Gareth and Gauvain burst through the doors.

  “What is it?” Lance asks, as the fearful buzz of murmurs hushes and people prick up their ears.

  “Duty’s a-callin’ boys!” Percy yells, strutting in after the cousins. Only then does he notice the state of the dining hall, and he lets out a sharp whistle. “Were you guys havin’ a party without me?” he asks, sounding disappointed.

  Arthur snaps his fingers and the silphid air that was keeping Hector chained to the pillar dissipates, letting him slide back down to the floor.

  “Report,” Arthur says.

  “The spies we’ve implanted up on the surface have bad news,” Gareth says, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to get going.

  “Planted would be the operative word,” Gauvain says, “but he’s telling the truth. There’s been an explosion of suspicious origins around Fritse Park. It’s across Little Lake Butte des Morts from Menasha.”

  I shiver at the lake’s name—the Hill of the Dead is not a place that sounds very cheery.

  Lance asks the question everyone is wondering, “Fomori?”

  Gauvain shakes his head. “Not from what the report says.”

  “I don’t care if it’s Fomori, ogres or dybbuk,” Percy says, “I’m itchin’ for a fightin’ and I’m gonna get me one.”

  Keva takes an involuntary step backward at the last name, and I look at her, confused.

  “What’s a D-book?” I ask.

  Keva throws me the most appalled look she can conjure. “A dybbuk is a soul sucking demon that takes over your body and uses it to attack more people,” she explains. “It’s really the worst, ‘cause if you don’t realize it, you end up getting killed by who you think is your own friend.”

  “Don’t worry,” Gareth tells us. “I’m sure our spies are being jingly and humping the gun.”

  “Ugh, my ears are bleeding,” Gauvain says. “Watchers aren’t a bunch of keys, you know. And I certainly hope nobody’s getting frisky with firearms.”

  “We’ve already dispatched a squad,” Percy says. “But that’s just four tenderfeet15 against a potential dozen or more powerful Fey. Might as well send ‘em all to the slaughterhouse, unless we get a move on already.”

  “Right,” Arthur says with a nod. “You, Gareth and Gauvain go give them hand, we’ll be right behind for the cleanup.”

  “Ya hear that, boys?” Percy says with a wide grin that chills me to the bone. “It’s time for some beefin’16!”

  He lets out a loud cheer and the three of them barrel out of the dining hall faster than they did coming in.

  “Morgan, get my weapons ready,” Arthur says, already moving. “Hector, I want you and Marianne to organize the school’s defenses, just in case the fight spreads down here. And have Lionel check in on the farms with Lady Ysolt. Lance, get Hadrian and a few more knights together, and wait for me by the docks. We’ll depart from there in ten. Let’s move!”

  Everyone jumps to follow his orders, but before Arthur can leave the cafeteria, Jennifer stops him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” she says, her voice sharp with m
ounting panic. “A general should stay behind to hold the fort, not leave his people defenseless.”

  “A general who’s not out on the field with his troops does not make a good leader,” Arthur retorts, moving out of her reach. “And I’m hardly leaving this place unprotected.”

  He motions for me to lead the way out but Jennifer steps in front of us, looking angry.

  “What if it’s a diversion?” she asks in a strained whisper.

  “It could be,” Arthur says. “But if we don’t do anything, we’re leaving hundreds of laymen at the Fey’s mercy, and I will not have their deaths on my conscience without trying to stop this carnage.”

  “You don’t even know how many Fey are out there, nor how strong they are,” she says. “What if Carman’s there?”

  “Doubt it,” I say, glancing at the milky-white sky through the tall French doors across the room. “Last time she was around, the whole lake turned to blood. It still seems pretty clear to me.”

  “Though the location of the attack is pretty far north from here, Morgan’s right,” Arthur says. “Nobody’s reported any of the plagues that always precede her. No need to worry.”

  “What about that monster who attacked me then?” Jennifer retorts. “You wouldn’t stand a chance against him!”

  At the mention of the Shade I feel a thrill course down my back. If that monster truly is up there, then this could be my chance to avenge my father.

  “You don’t have enough people to combat them,” Jennifer continues, pleadingly. “Why don’t you wait? I can ask papa to send—”

  “If the Board had been willing to help,” Arthur snaps, “we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. Now excuse me, I’ve got a job to do.”

  Arthur pushes past her without letting her place another word, and I chuckle at Jennifer’s livid face.

  “Go ahead and run crying to your daddy then,” I say with a smirk. “In the meantime, I’ve got people to save.”

  “Don’t fool yourself!” she snarls. “No matter how hard you try, you’re never going to fit in.”