Forged Steel

by H A Titus

  Slowly, the colors blurred together like a little kid's watercolor painting, and the room came into focus. I was in the enormous living room, my back pressed against the wall next to the fireplace. Too close, in fact. The heat was making me sweat.

  The two people crouched beside me were obviously fae. The girl had long jet-black hair, a jagged layer of turquoise-striped bangs slashing across her pale forehead. A black, spiral-twisted knife handle stuck out of the tall boots she wore over black, form-fitting pants, and she cradled a sawed-off shotgun in one arm.

  The guy's pale blond hair jutted over his forehead in gelled spikes, and underneath, his bright green eyes flickered in jumps and starts. Those eyes looked hard and relentless, a little like Blodheyr's. In one hand, he held a sword, the point pressed into the wood floor to balance himself. Another sword was strapped to his waist under a black leather jacket.

  He stood up and prodded my leg with the toe of his heavy motorcycle boots, the hems of his tattered jeans swishing. "Well, mud-eater. What are you doing here?"

  "You friends of Marc's?" I asked. "Seelie?"

  Pale violet color flared in the girl's purple eyes. She blinked once, her long lashes dark against her creamy skin. "You know about fae."

  I nodded and pushed myself to my feet.

  The two fae stared at me warily as they rose. The girl finally spoke.

  "Yeah, we're Seelie." She poked the guy in the arm. "This is Eliaster. I'm Larae."

  Eliaster glared at her. "You just give it up, just like that? Has it occurred to you—"

  "That you could trust Overworlders a little more? Yes, it has." Larae flicked her hand at him. "Go find David. I'll talk to this guy."

  "Freakin' idiots." Eliaster turned and stomped down the hall. "David?" he shouted, and slammed a door, making every window in earshot rattle.

  Larae cleared her throat. "How do you know Marc?"

  I brushed strands of hair out of my eyes and took a deep breath. My hands weren't shaking, and even my gut had settled down a little. "I've known him for years. We went to school together. He just started coming to my college."

  Larae lifted her chin a little. "Saint Bartholomew's. You must be that genius friend he talked about."

  "Oh, wonderful. Everyone knows about me."

  She frowned. "How did the two of you end up here? What happened? I'm assuming you'll be able to make a little sense of what you saw, since you can obviously see our true selves."

  I nodded. "Marc said it was because I'd been around him most of my life."

  She cupped her hands around my face and stared into my eyes. My skin heated from more than the fireplace at my back. It was disconcerting to have this girl staring at me like this, her intense violet eyes scrutinizing me like she was staring through a microscope at a new bug or something.

  "You're mostly immune." She dropped her hands and rubbed the sleeves of her thin jade-green blouse. "Still have stomach trouble around us?"

  "A little."

  Eliaster came back out into the living room, followed by the guy who looked like a body-builder, who must have been the David they'd mentioned earlier.

  Eliaster grimaced. "Nothing to see and absolutely no clues as to where they went."

  Larae bit her lower lip. The skin around her eyes crinkled. "I hope he has the good sense to give Blodheyr what he wants."

  "Right, like that would solve anything." Eliaster grunted and stalked toward the front door. He let that one slam behind him, too.

  "What's his problem?" I muttered.

  "Pick something, and it's probably one of his many problems," Larae said, brushing her bangs from her eyes.

  I frowned.

  David chuckled. "Glad to find another human who is confused by the fae."

  I jerked my head toward him. Sure enough, no weird eye-color thing, no pointed ears, no delicately sharp features or slanted eyes. David looked like your typical Midwestern corn-fed football player. Generally I avoided his type, but now, it felt good to see another human.

  I breathed out a sigh. "Glad I'm not the only human to get mixed up with them."

  David shrugged. "Sorry it had to happen to you. From what Marc has said, you sound like an okay guy." A swift wince crossed his square face. "Sorry. You forget most humans aren't as blunt as fae."

  "Don't worry about it." I glanced over at Larae.

  She folded her arms and was staring at the door.

  "So, how do you guys know Marc?" I asked.

  "I've known his family for years," David said. "Same for Eliaster."

  Eliaster pushed the door open and jerked his head. "Are you guys going to stand there gabbing all night? Josh, you can explain to them on the way."

  "The way? And how do you know my name?" I moved toward the door.

  Eliaster rolled his eyes. "As in, wherever you'd like to go that would be safe for you tonight. And I know your name because, as you've probably discovered, Marc blabbed all over the Underworld about you."

  "Oh." I scratched my neck, trying not to show how embarrassed I felt. Duh, Josh. Stop acting like your average idiot. "I guess my parents' house. The dorm wouldn't be safe right now."

  "Score one for the not-so-genius." Eliaster hopped off the porch.

  "Hey!" I growled.

  David stepped past me. "Leave it. You don't cross

  Eliaster when he's in this mood."

  I followed him outside. A black Porsche sat idling in the driveway. Eliaster headed past it, and I noticed a dark blue motorcycle with a snarling dragon's head on the gas tank lying on its side about fifteen feet behind the Porsche. Skid marks in the gravel showed where it had fallen and slid.

  I glanced at David.

  He shrugged. "He was moving pretty fast."

  "I was hoping to lose you idiots," Eliaster snapped, righting the motorcycle.

  The Porsche's driver door popped open. Larae glanced at Eliaster over the car's roof. "So you're following us?"

  "Yeah." He pointed at me. "Fill them in. Don't leave out a single detail." He straddled the bike and kick-started it.

  Larae ducked back inside the car. David opened the passenger door and moved the seat forward. I squeezed into the back. I wasn't very tall, but the front seats still hit my knees as I got settled. We pulled out of the cabin's driveway, and Eliaster shot past us, jacket flapping, gravel spitting from the back tire of his bike.

  "I thought he said he'd follow us," I said.

  David snorted. "Yeah, Eliaster says a lot of things."

  Larae cleared her throat. "Okay, so, Josh, why don't you tell us what happened."

  I leaned forward between the two front seats and started the story. David sat and listened impassively, his arms crossed over his chest. Once or twice, I caught Larae's eyes glancing in the rearview mirror.

  When I finished, I leaned back and looked out my side window. The orange glow of Springfield's lights surprised me. We hadn't been as far away as I'd thought. Even more surprising was the grayish-pink streak coloring the eastern skyline.

  I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Six-thirty-two, it read. All this had happened in four hours? Unbelievable.

  I glanced out the front window but didn't see Eliaster's motorcycle ahead of us. Where had he disappeared to?

  "Hey," Larae said.

  I looked up. Her violet eyes in the rearview mirror were focused on me. How was she doing that and still driving?

  "Where do your parents live?"

  "Republic." I gave her the address.

  "Glad I asked now." She spun the wheel.

  The Porsche smoothly and sharply turned onto the off ramp. Larae didn't slow down as we slipped through the residential streets. A few houses had the lights on in the kitchen or living room as we turned onto my family's street.

  She parked the car at the curb near my parents' two-story ranch house. David pushed open his door, stepped out, and pulled the seat forward so I could squeeze out.

  Eliaster pulled up beside the car on his bike. Somewhere along the ride he must
have fallen behind us and I hadn't noticed.

  "Hustle up," he growled. "We don't want to be seen."

  I started for the driveway, ready to get away from the irritable fae. "Thanks for the ride."

  Eliaster leaned over and grabbed my arm. His eyes narrowed. "Listen if you want to live, because you don't understand how the Underworld works. You can see through the glamour, and the fae are going to recognize that. Don't show off. Keep to yourself, ignore the fae as much as possible, and you might get lucky and live to die of natural causes. Got it?"

  I tried to jerk away, my heartbeat sending sharp pulses into my neck. "What about Marc?"

  "We'll find him. Don't you mess with it." Eliaster released my arm.

  I stepped onto the lawn. Without a word, David got back into the Porsche and closed the door. Eliaster shot down the street, the car following him at the same breakneck speed.

  They'd take care of it. Right. Let Grouchy-Gut and the other two sort it out. My stomach twisted at the thought of abandoning my friend, but I couldn't help. Marc and Eliaster were both right—I didn't understand their world enough.

  I let myself into the house with a spare key and collapsed on the couch in the living room. If I was lucky, I could catch a few minutes of sleep before my parents came downstairs and found me.

  After a moment, though, I got up and opened the side table drawer. My dad's tablet lay there, as usual. I pulled it out, started it up, and tapped the Internet browser. If I could see the fae now, I needed to know what I was dealing with.

  Chapter 5

  "Josh?"

  The voice was feminine, concerned. My eyelids twitched, but my car-wreck dream didn't want to let me go. I flinched as the window next to me splintered, and an all-too-real twinge in my neck made my eyes open a bit more.

  A small-boned, gentle hand brushed my shoulder.

  I yelled and jerked up, swatting the hand away. The tablet slipped off my stomach and clattered to the wooden floor.

  My mom fumbled her coffee, nearly spilling it over the back of the couch. She took a step back and brushed her auburn hair back from her face. "What's wrong?"

  I sat up, running my hands through my hair. My eyes were wide, and I looked wildly around the room. How…where was…

  The familiar furniture of my parents' living room fell into place. I was lying on the couch, the entertainment center across the narrow room from me, teeth marks on the corner of the door from one of the twin's teething days. I swung my bare feet to the carpet. The movement made my neck ache again, and pain throbbed down my head and into my shoulders. I felt like I'd been hit by a semi-truck. Kinda had, in a way.

  I winced and rubbed my neck. "What time is it?"

  "Eight thirty. Are you all right? Your clothes…"

  I got up, glanced down at myself. I was wearing an older, faded shirt that still looked fine, but my jeans were ripped at the knees and stained with what I guessed was blood. My blood. I vaguely remembered cutting myself as I'd crawled out of Marc's broken car window last night.

  I smiled at Mom and headed past her into the kitchen. "I'm okay. They're just old clothes."

  Dad sat at the kitchen table, his nose buried in some kind of business book, gray-touched brown hair combed back as usual, gel taming it into perfect place. He glanced up as I fumbled a coffee mug from the cabinet and poured myself a cup.

  "Well, long time no see," he said dryly.

  "Yeah, been busy." I plunked down at the table and gulped. The bitter black liquid scalded my mouth. I choked the swallow down. My burning tongue snapped me wide awake, and I remembered.

  Marc. Eliaster, David, Larae.

  Fae. Trolls.

  Crap.

  "We didn't hear you come in last night at all," Mom said, sliding into the seat beside me.

  "I just got in about six-thirty," I muttered.

  "Late night," Dad said, closing his book.

  Uh-oh. I recognize that tone. I took another gulp of the coffee to cover the fact that my mind was racing for an answer. It was way better to lie than deal with the hassle of the truth—they'd think I was lying anyway.

  Or into drugs. Yeah, that was exactly not the thing I needed my parents thinking. "It was kind of unexpected, actually. Someone broke into our dorm building early this morning." That was true, after all.

  Mom's eyes widened.

  I hurried to add, "Nothing was stolen, but they wanted everyone out while the police investigated. They probably think it's a student prank gone too far." True and probable.

  "So I came here to sleep some more."

  "You walked here?" Mom looked surprised.

  "You should have called us," Dad said.

  "I left my phone at the dorm." True. "A friend of Marc's dropped me off." Also true. They didn't need to know the whole story, just the basics. If I tried to explain everything…. Yeah, I could see that going over well. Marc and I were kidnapped by trolls—oh, surprise, Marc's half-fae, in case you were wondering—and some nutcase Unseelie thinks I should be able to decipher some weird ancient document or whatever.

  Yeah, that was no good. My parents would think I was nuts.

  Maybe I was nuts. In the light of day, Irish legends seemed a lot less likely than they had last night. But my neck kept twinging every time I moved. My brain was still foggy and felt distant, like it could float out of my skull at any moment. I rubbed the hairless spots on my wrists, mind flashing back to all the stuff I'd looked up last night.

  Well, at least this attempt to convince myself Irish legends weren't real didn't include hysterics. I wanted to punch myself for how I'd acted last night.

  I glanced out the window and nearly jumped out of my chair. One of the fae from last night—dark-skinned, white dreadlocks trailing down his back—was standing outside on the lawn, staring into the kitchen. He noticed me and grinned, a gold tooth flashing in the sunlight.

  "Do you need a ride back to school?" Dad asked.

  I snapped my attention over to him. "Uh, no. No, I—I'll be fine. I don't want to—"

  The dark fae waved.

  I blinked and tried to ignore him. "To, uh, make you guys late for work."

  Mom's eyes narrowed just slightly. Oh, great, she didn't believe me. I raised the mug to my lips. Please don't ask, please don't ask…

  Her eyes fell on the clock. "Dan, we'll be late if we don't hurry." She got up and strode to the bottom of the stairs. "Matt! Ollie! Are you up?"

  Oh, right. I'd forgotten my brothers' school ended for the summer before mine.

  Matt's voice echoed down the stairs. "I am, but Ollie isn't."

  Thud.

  "I'm gonna kill you, Matthew Isaiah MacAllister!" Ollie's voice cracked in the middle of the yell.

  "Boys!" Mom rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse from the bottom step. "Coffee is made, breakfast is in the fridge. Chores before video games, please." She turned back to me. "You're sure the break-in was nothing serious?"

  "I'm sure, Mom."

  Dad folded his paper and headed for the front door.

  "He's a big boy, Madeline. See ya, Josh. Be careful going back to school."

  "Yeah, be careful." Mom kissed my forehead, and gave me a narrow-eyed glance that said she still thought I was lying about something, but dashed after Dad.

  I yawned and dropped my forehead to the table.

  Matt came clattering down the stairs, still wearing pajamas, his thick black hair sticking up on one side. He grunted at me and went straight for the fridge, pulling out the remains of a hashbrown casserole, dumping a block of it on a plate, and shoving it in the microwave.

  Ollie followed a few minutes later, looking slightly more awake and actually dressed for the day in gym shorts and a t-shirt. "Mornin', Josh. Why're you here?"

  I repeated the same story I'd told our parents.

  "Break-in? And they're surprised it happened at a school for losers?" Matt shrugged. "Present company excepted. You should transfer to a different school."

  "Why bother? I've stuck it out t
his long, and anyway I'll graduate at the end of this term. I'll get a master's at a different school." I glanced out the window. The dark-skinned fae was still there, his arms crossed, that stupid grin still on his face.

  Yeah, as if I was going to live long enough to contemplate my future.

  I went into the living room and grabbed my shoes, making sure to delete the browser history on the tablet while I was there. That might look suspicious, if my dad thought to check it, but it was better than any alternative I could think of. I came back to the kitchen and leaned against the wall to pull my shoes on.

  "Leaving?" Ollie brought a plate of cold pizza to the table.

  Matt's eyes widened. "Where was that?"

  Ollie smirked. "Hidden from you."

  Matt lunged across the table. Ollie jerked his plate of pizza away and tipped over his chair in the process. He hit the tile floor with a grunt. Matt grabbed the biggest slice and took a huge bite.

  I shook my head. "Wow. Lindsay and I never fought over pizza when we were seventeen, you guys."

  "No, you just locked each other out of the house and stuff," Matt said around his mouthful.

  The thought made me smile. Lindsay was only eleven months older than me, and we'd had some serious sibling rivalry all throughout high school. I should call her, see how the new artsy-fartsy job is going.

  Ollie reached across the table and punched Matt in the chest.

  I looked out the window for the dark fae again. He was gone. Somehow I doubted he'd gone far. The twins continued their bickering as they shoveled their food into their mouths, and for a second I watched them, my throat clenching.

  "I'm gonna head out now, guys," I said. "Don’t—" Don't what? Don't open the door for anyone who doesn't look human? Don't talk to strangers with pointy ears?

  "Sheesh, you're as bad as Mom and Dad," Ollie said. "We got it. Shoot first, ask questions later, blah, blah, blah."

  "Not exactly…" I muttered.

  Matt rolled his eyes. "Dude, we're seventeen, okay?"

  I raised one eyebrow. "Really? Could've fooled me—I'd have guessed you at ten right now."

  Ollie threw a chair cushion at me. "Dude. We got this."