Rise of the Fey

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Rise of the Fey Page 21

by Alessa Ellefson


  “He’s here to train you,” Lady Vivian says calmly, the gold of her eyes glowing in the shadows, “as I can’t do it myself anymore.”

  “You can’t?” I ask, just to keep her talking.

  If she is the traitor, then I’ve got to warn the others. But how can I get out of here with these two around?

  “My abilities have been greatly diminished since the wards were taken down,” Lady Vivian explains, and something finally clicks.

  Abilities? When did she ever have abilities? I stare at her ever-changing eyes and refrain from slapping myself silly—of course, she’s Fey too! That’s how she was able to conjure that storm when I was brought before the jury. And then I remember the one thing about Myrdwinn junior that’s been eluding me since my imprisonment: He was Lady Vivian’s lover and she never once mentioned him during the trial!

  “Lugh’s graciously agreed to replace me in the capacity of instructor,” Lady Vivian continues. “I’m sure you know not to spread word of this to anyone.”

  My gaze travels back to the tall, dark-haired Fey prince, my thoughts awhirl. How could he be involved in all this? I thought he didn’t like Mordred. And it wasn’t Lugh who attacked us, it was Dean and his Fomori….

  I nod, tension easing from my back. If Lugh had been involved in the attack, surely he would have decimated us already since he can get in and out of the school like this without being noticed. And if the fall of the wards has weakened Lady Vivian, like she says, then surely she can’t be behind the breach either.

  “Before I leave you to it,” Lady Vivian says, “I want to remind you of a few things.” She glides towards me, her long, russet skirts billowing after her. “It seems that you didn’t listen to me the first time, so I’ll repeat myself: If you want to get a better grasp of your own powers, you need to be in better control of your emotions.”

  “Even if I’m under attack?” I ask. Because if I can barely get a handle on my bladder in such times, I’m not sure how she expects me to remain stoic.

  A low hiss comes from Lugh’s corner and Lady Vivian hesitates.

  “Defending yourself is one thing,” she says, “but you disintegrated Agravain’s ogham, thereby destroying the life it contained. You need to find a way to hold yourself back.”

  “But I didn’t—” I start.

  “The Fey are rebelling, Vivian,” Lugh interrupts me. “Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later, even without Morgan’s help.”

  “I hope you don’t take it upon yourself to convince her to keep down this path,” Lady Vivian says. “Morgan has to be doubly careful now, because if anything goes wrong, people are going to blame her for it, and they won’t be as lenient as they have been thus far.”

  I snort. As if anyone’s ever been lenient with me to begin with.

  “Which is why I’m training her,” Lugh says, his smile bright.

  “Very well,” Lady Vivian says with a defeated sigh. “I’ll come back in a few hours’ time.”

  I look up suddenly. “You’re leaving?”

  Lady Vivian cocks an eyebrow at me. “Is there a problem?”

  I throw a quick glance at Lugh who’s as still as a statue, and my heart ups its tempo as I remember our dance together.

  “I’ll leave Puck here as a chaperone,” Lady Vivian says with a trace of mirth.

  I look down at the hobgoblin just in time to see him spit out a corner of her dress and look about guiltily. Right. ‘Cause he’ll make all the difference in the world if something were to happen.

  The moment the door closes on Lady Vivian, Lugh crosses the room to stand before me, so quickly I barely see him move.

  “You’re no longer safe here,” he says, brushing what remains of my hair. “If we take the catacombs, we’ll be out of here before anyone realizes you’re gone.”

  The catacombs? Is that how he got in without being seen? Then a shiver runs down my spine—what if other Fey find out about them? The whole school would be at their mercy!

  “You still need to be invited to make it inside the building proper,” Lugh says, guessing at my thoughts. He grabs my hand. “Come on, Morgan. A few hour’s time is not all that much.”

  “I can’t,” I force myself to say. “Arthur promised me he’d help me find out about my dad. He’s taking me to Switzerland with him.” Assuming he didn’t lie to me again, I silently add.

  “Carman is intent upon her revenge,” Lugh says, his golden eyes boring into mine, “and there are two places that she is bound to unfurl her rage upon: This school, and your Board’s headquarters.”

  “But didn’t you guys help her put her away too?” I ask. “If we are to go by that logic, your village in Avalon would be a prime target as well.”

  “Demesne,” Lugh corrects me automatically. “It would be if it were not for the fact that Carman hates humans more so than us Fey. Except for you, darling, since you killed her son Dain.”

  An arctic chill spreads down my body. I lick my dry lips. Put that way, Lugh’s offer sounds rather appealing. My presence is sure to make any place Carman’s target numero uno, and Lugh’s people are bound to be more prepared to withstand the witch and her demons than a bunch of kids in a crumbling school. But, as Lugh seems so convinced, Carman will attack this place anyway, in which case shouldn’t I be here to help with the defenses too?

  “Rain check?” I ask.

  A muscle twitches in Lugh’s cheek and he drops my hand. “All this time I thought that ball of fur was too stupid to get you to come to me,” he says coldly, waving at Puck impatiently, “when in fact you simply never wanted to leave this place to begin with. Very well. It is your choice.”

  He turns away from me, and I get an irrational fear he’s going to abandon me completely, but he stops instead at the opposite end of the room and turns back to face me.

  “Come over here,” Lugh says.

  I take a step forward but Lugh shakes his head.

  “No walking,” he says.

  No walking? I look down at the floor. Does he expect me to crawl over to him?

  “No touching the floor either,” he says with a slight smirk as I lower myself to the floor.

  “How am I supposed to do that?” I ask, petulant. “I can’t jump all the way there.”

  “You could,” Lugh says. “Or fly over. It is up to you.”

  Is he insane? How can I fly without an ogham? He can’t truly expect me to use my powers—all they’re good for is making things explode.

  “Calm down,” Lugh says.

  “How can I be calm when you tell me to do something I can’t do?” I ask instead, glaring at him.

  “It’s because your emotions are erratic that your power’s going all over the place,” Lugh retorts. “It doesn’t know what you want.”

  I open my mouth then shut it closed again. Could it really that simple?

  “Isn’t there a magic word I’m supposed to say?” I ask. “You know, like an ogham’s name or something?”

  “That’s only necessary if you use someone else’s powers,” he answers. “You need their true name to control them. I assume you can control yourself, can’t you?”

  Ha, that is the ten billion dollar question.

  For the next couple of hours, I spend my time scowling at my feet as they remain resolutely anchored to the ground.

  “Any day now,” Lugh mutters at last.

  “I’m trying here!” I snap, my migraine making my eyes throb.

  I stomp my foot on the ground, and gasp as a strange, bouncy resistance encounters it. My foot kicks forward and I slip, falling hard onto the flagstones.

  “Some progress at last,” Lugh says.

  “Progress?” I bark as Puck hops over to sniff at me. “I just fell down!”

  A tendril of smoke wraps around my wrists and helps me up.

  “You’re not concentrating,” Lugh says.

  “Sorry,” I grumble.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Lugh says impatiently. “Learn to control yourself.”r />
  “So you keep repeating,” I say, rubbing my lower back.

  “Are you sure you do not want to leave this place with me?” Lugh asks. “Our demesne in Avalon would be idyllic for your protection. At least until your training is over.”

  “Which could take years,” I retort. “By which time the whole world might be pulverized to dust by Carman and that Mordred guy. Besides, I still need to find out about my—”

  “Father, yes, I know.” Lugh sighs. “There are other ways to find out about him, you know.”

  I stand straighter, my sore back forgotten. “You never mentioned that,” I say accusingly.

  “You never asked.”

  “You could have told me sooner,” I say, crossing my arms. “How can I trust you if you don’t tell me the truth about something that important?”

  “A Fey cannot lie,” Lugh retorts calmly.

  “I know,” I say. “I’ve felt the effects of that stupid law already. But one can get around it by not revealing the whole truth.”

  “There is only one person who knows the whole truth and I am not sure she would want to talk to you,” Lugh says. “She has been somewhat of a recluse for the past eons, give or take a couple of thousand years. Of course, there have been a few rare exceptions….”

  The door is suddenly thrown open, making Puck scurry away. Is the time up already? My eagerness morphs to annoyance as Arthur strides in, looking irate.

  “What’s going on?” he asks. “And what are you doing here?” His eyes move back and forth between Lugh and me. “How did you get in here?”

  “I was invited,” Lugh says. “How did you know to come here?”

  Arthur throws a black pillow towards the Fey in response. The pillow lands on four paws and meows reproachfully before I recognize the black cat. Lugh’s cat, I realize, wanting for the second time tonight to punch myself silly for not connecting the dots sooner.

  Puck dashes out of the shadows with a loud snort of excitement then comes to a sudden stop as the cat hisses in warning, ears down.

  “Well I rescind your invitation,” Arthur says. “Please leave the same way you came or I’ll have you jailed.”

  “Assuming you could even get your filthy hands on me, human,” Lugh retorts with seeming unconcern.

  “You two can stop arguing now,” I tell them. “Arthur, Lugh’s here to train me.”

  “I asked Lady Vivian to supervise your training,” Arthur says, “not have her bring an enemy inside our territory.”

  “She can’t do it herself,” I say with growing frustration, “something about being weakened by the attack.”

  “Then how come another Fey at the school can’t teach you?” Arthur asks.

  “Because they don’t have the ability to contain her should things…get a little rough,” Lugh retorts. “As she cleverly demonstrated earlier today.”

  Arthur narrows his eyes at him. “Not even the Watchers?”

  Lugh shrugs. “They follow their leader’s orders, and his orders are for them to keep their vows, which include no fighting, and no training others in the art.”

  “You seem awfully well aware of what the Watchers are up to,” Arthur says.

  “Knowledge is a formidable weapon,” Lugh says with a slight shrug.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Puck’s gotten over his initial fear as he faints one way then jumps between Arthur’s legs to catch the cat’s tail in his pudgy hands. The feline meows, turns quickly around and scratches Puck’s face before jumping into the security of Lugh’s arms.

  “Part of being Fey,” Lugh says, petting his cat, “is that we get to know things about each other in ways that common humans cannot.” He winks at me. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, your turn will come. Once you get a hang of your Fey side.”

  I feel myself turn an incandescent red at Lugh’s unexpected lovey-dovey attitude towards me, and feel very grateful for the dim lighting in the room.

  “I’m still not sold on you being here,” Arthur growls. “What’s to keep me from trapping you here instead? You could be a spy for all I know.”

  “You are not powerful enough to take me on,” Lugh says, brushing some nonexistent dust from his shirt, “even with short-fuse over here.”

  “Short-fuse?” I repeat, not sure if I should be offended or not.

  “You do not seem able to call upon your powers unless you’re throwing some sort of temper tantrum,” Lugh explains.

  Arthur’s lips quirk up. “I noticed that too. Couldn’t get the ogham to respond unless she was threatened.”

  They both sigh at the same time while shaking their heads.

  “You two can get off my back,” I say, definitely offended now.

  “You’ve just got to repeat the situation until she gets a better hang of it,” Arthur tells Lugh, ignoring me entirely.

  “Perhaps it’s a side effect from the seal,” Lugh says thoughtfully. “It could have repressed her natural instincts.”

  “Hey,” I say louder. “I’m right here.”

  I recoil as both of them look at me at the same time.

  “You’ve got to get in tune with nature,” Lugh says.

  “Really?” I say, oozing sarcasm. “And how should I do that? Become a hermit?”

  “That could work,” Lugh says.

  “But it seems impractical,” Arthur adds.

  “You’ll be out in the open where anyone can attack you,” Lugh agrees.

  “And I’m afraid solitary confinement, even if voluntary, has a tendency to drive people crazy,” Arthur finishes.

  “How did you two become so chummy all of a sudden?” I ask, disgusted with the both of them. Do they really think this is easy for me?

  “Well if Lady Vivian’s willing to trust him,” Arthur says, though with some difficulty, “I will try to do so as well. But let me ask you something”—he turns to Lugh—“why did you accept to train Morgan?”

  The smile that had been lurking on Lugh’s face melts away. “Let’s just say I’m honor-bound,” he says.

  Honor-bound? What is that supposed to mean? Is it because I happened to crash on of his parties? Or because we accidentally kissed once?

  But before either Arthur or I can quiz him any further, the door opens up again to let in Lady Vivian, and Puck bounces over to his mistress to hang onto her skirts.

  “I see you’re all acquainted,” she says brightly. “That’ll make things a lot easier.”

  “I do wish you’d let me know about him beforehand,” Arthur says.

  “We weren’t sure how well you’d receive that nugget of information,” says Lady Vivian, patting Puck on the head so he’ll stop clinging to her.

  “I would think this is something a little more substantial than a nugget,” Arthur mutters.

  I massage my head as the sharp pain from my migraine springs back to the forefront, making it difficult to concentrate on what’s going on. I gasp when a cool hand presses against my forehead.

  “What is he doing now?” Arthur asks, reaching for his sword.

  “Just a little feverish,” Lugh says, his breath tickling my neck. “It will get better once you figure out how not to use your own energy to source your powers anymore.”

  He pulls away, taking my headache away with him.

  “What did you do?” I ask, amazed.

  “Just gave you a little boost,” Lugh says. “Like I said, once you figure out how to link up to the Aether, you’ll be free to use up as much energy as you want. Well, with some restrictions, but now is not the time to get into details.”

  “Aether?” I ask. “What is that? Some sort of magic current I need to plug into to recharge?”

  “Same place, same time tomorrow,” Lugh whispers without bothering to answer me. And with a slight nod towards Lady Vivian, he’s gone again.

  “There’s no portal in here, is there?” Arthur asks, scanning the floor and walls meticulously.

  Lady Vivian lets out a tinkling laugh. “Of course not, that would be too dangerou
s. He got here as you and I would, on his own two feet.”

  “The catacombs,” I say. Then, remembering my own attempted escape from Lake High, I add, “He came here through the tunnels.”

  Arthur grunts, then notices the book tucked under Lady Vivian’s arm.

  “Gauvain told me you had questions about it,” Lady Vivian says, handing him the thick volume, Milites Fabulae written in large on its cover.

  “There’s a passage that caught my attention,” Arthur says, riffling through the pages. “Here. It says that when all the children of God came together, the world seemed as it was in the times before the fall of the Tower of Babel: Everyone working together towards a single goal. And thus the evil plight that represented Carman was banished from this plane.”

  Lady Vivian nods, her long, loose curls falling over her shoulder.

  “Which reminded me of the words from her stele,” Arthur continues, encouraged. “’Four men to raise the stones their blood did shed, Four Fey their essence over the cairns did spread, Four of the Nephilim to Avalon’s protection their lives vowed, And Danu, to seal the spell, her power over all bestowed.’ Doesn’t that mean that Fey, humans and Nephilim, all children of God, joined hands to vanquish Carman?”

  “It could,” Lady Vivian says. “But I am not the one to ask, as I wasn’t yet around when it happened, and you just let the one who could answer you go.”

  “What’s a Nephilim?” I ask, before they can delve any deeper into their confusing talk.

  Arthur glances over his shoulder at me. “Don’t you remember the passage in Genesis? ‘Now it came about, when men began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to them, that the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful; and they—”

  “—took wives for themselves, whomever they chose,” I finish. “But weren’t they just a name for a race of giants?”

  “They are the result of the unholy union between humans and angels,” Arthur says. He freezes, looking at me sheepishly.

  “An unholy union like the one between my own parents,” I say, stung. “Thank goodness I didn’t turn out to be a giant, huh? Would’ve been a lot harder to hide me then.”

 

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