by J. Kearston
Achlys cuts in, looking absolutely enthralled. “You guys truly have no clue who she is, do you? No, she cannot be compelled or her memories tampered with.”
We’re walking down one of the streets bordering the river, following the light it gives off like a haunted, yellow brick road. Fae flit about, but stay a respectful distance now, even the guards shadowing the queen.
Cambria looks ready to beat the answers out of her, frustrated and nearing the end of her rope. But she’s spent her entire life used to needing to watch her tongue in this realm, and I can see her warring with her temper in favor of the expected behavior beaten into her.
“We weren’t sure if she knew and forgot or just never knew of the shadow court’s existence at all,” Dorian placates, always the peacekeeper. “Now we know she just never knew.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, just scratching a problem off of the rapidly growing list.
Our pace is languid, as if we have all the time in the world despite our sprinting hearts and mental screaming. The sight is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, it’s just...strange. The darkness combated by only the luminescent glow of the water beside us and plant life coating the buildings gives off the perception of everything being tranquil. But it also causes more shadows than not, and it makes me twitchy, wondering what’s watching us from shrouded safety.
“That horrible bitch,” Achlys vehemently spits.
I blink, not quite expecting royalty to speak in such a manner. Though she’s a far cry from a typical queen, so I really shouldn’t be this off kilter. But everything about my life hardly makes sense anymore. Honestly, this doesn’t even make the bottom of the list for things to be concerned over.
Dorian snorts. “That’s putting it mildly.”
She chuckles, sitting on the bank between the road and the river, dipping her bare feet in the water. It leaves us awkwardly standing around, because heck if we’re about to touch the stuff when it clearly affects the world around us.
Achlys simply reclines on her arms, swishing her feet back and forth while closing her eyes, head tilted to the night sky. “Graham lived here, so many years ago. But when he lost his mate, he was never the same. He took his son and left, and I never heard from him again.”
She looks up at Lucien apologetically. “He mentioned finding a way to leave the fae behind and move to the human realm permanently, but I thought it a fool’s errand.” She gazes into the sky, looking sad. “The only way it could even be remotely possible would be to sacrifice your abilities, every bit of magic this world imbues a fae with. I imagine it would feel like severing a limb, losing such an integral part of you. It’s amazing he didn’t go mad.”
There’s a heavy beat of silence as Lucien chooses to sit. He doesn’t touch the water and keeps a good distance from Achlys, but he finally sags in defeat. “He did.”
She sighs. “A shame, really. He was a good man when I knew him.”
Dorian strums his fingers on his thigh restlessly. “But Luce didn’t go mad and he would have had to experience the same loss.”
Cambria sits near Lucien, kicking off her shoes to dip her feet in the enchanted water. “If he was only a toddler, it wouldn’t have had as long to take root.”
“Which might be why he’s always been emotionally stunted.” I don’t get smacked from my position, but I can feel Lucien’s desire to like a living entity.
Honestly, it makes perfect sense to me, now that there’s an explanation. Luce has always given off an air of cold detachment and is capable of going off the rails violent. Hell, he tore my father limb from limb with nothing more than a pocket knife and sheer force of will. But more importantly, he’s started to resemble a normal human over the last month or so, actually allowing feelings to start slipping out in public. We attributed the change to him falling in love with Cambria, but maybe it’s more than that.
Maybe it’s the magic we’re absorbing through the bond that’s starting to fix him and Cambria was just a conduit of energy.
“But what about Maddox?” Luce asks quietly.
Achlys just shrugs. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who you’re referring to.”
I feel for Lucien, I really do. Revelation after revelation, and now it’s pretty clear the dead brother that brought the three of us together likely wasn’t his brother at all. His life’s been lit on fire as completely as our house and I can’t think of a single thing to say that might lessen the blow or make him feel better.
Instead, I have a selfish stab of doubt, if I’m being honest with myself. Because if Lucien and Cambria are both fae, where does that leave Dorian and me? There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m completely human, and a jobless bum at that. I have nothing to offer besides me and as the blows keep coming, it’s feeling less and less like that’s enough.
“And Cambria?”
Both women tense, and I have no doubt their reactions each stem from fear. One afraid of hearing the news, and the other just as nervous of how it will be received. At this point, I’m about two seconds from jumping into the river and seeing where the current will take me, and I’m not even the one getting my identity blown to smithereens.
“She’s everything,” Achlys whispers, mirroring my thoughts, but no doubt for a very different reason. “The only thing,” she corrects, “that keeps us safe.”
Cambria actually bursts out laughing. “I think you have me confused with someone else. I can barely keep myself alive.”
Achlys gives her a sad smile, waiting for her to calm down without rushing her, the epitome of patience. The longer the moment stretches on, the more Cambria’s chuckles start to taper off, leaving an awkward silence in her wake when it’s clear Achlys is adamant in her conviction.
Cambria quiets, more subdued and nervous now. “What do you mean?”
The queen lies back on the grass, water lapping at her feet and her arms crossed behind her head. She looks so casual, like that alone will be enough to soften the blows she’s throwing our way.
“You’re the last of the guardians, Cambria Alistair,” she announces as easily as if we were discussing the weather. “The only thing standing between us and the things that hide in the shadows.”
Chapter 10
Cambria
You’d think that a ridiculous statement like that would make you feel different, like a piece you’ve always been missing clicked into place and the world finally makes sense. But the words just fall flat, and I feel like the same outcast I’ve always been.
“If I’m some mythical protector,” I scoff, “then why does everyone hate me?”
Achlys turns her sad eyes in my direction, and I wish she’d just keep looking off into the sky. Direct scrutiny always leaves me feeling nauseous; I’ve spent far too long where that sort of attention just led to pain. There’s a massive difference between being the center of attention when I’m soaking up faceless adoration so I can feed, where no one knows who I am, and actually being seen.
And right now, she sees right through my defenses to the person hiding inside, and is forcing a spotlight where I’d rather cling to my shadows.
“Because Elorie twisted their memories so they wouldn’t turn on her-“ she sighs- “and damned us all in the process.”
Dorian settles back against me, a living chair. It’s positively ridiculous, like the four of us are getting cozy for story time around a campfire, but I’m glad that we listened to Atlas’ gut and pushed for this. I’ve spent far too much time refusing to look at anything too deeply in favor of living to see tomorrow without going mad, that it’s a long time coming. That doesn’t make it easier to swallow, but thankfully, I don’t need to face things alone.
“I think you need to start at the beginning,” Dorian suggests quietly.
Atlas comes to sit on my free side, since Luce already claimed a spot. Being surrounded by them; it helps, gives the illusion of safety, even if it’s just a silly dream in this world.
No matter how much she tries to appear casual, her muscles tense at what
ever direction her thoughts take her. Finally, she clears her throat, refocusing her attention above her like she’s reading a script made of constellations.
“Thousands of years ago, things weren’t like this. There was no divide between the courts or separate kingdoms. It was just a constant state of survival and fear.” She drifts into silence, like she needs time to find the right words.
“You were there, weren’t you?”
That tremor in her voice can only come from experience, too authentic to be merely a story passed down through the generations. She nods, closing her eyes.
Atlas stiffens beside me. “Just how long does a fae live?”
Biting my lip, I waver, because this is one complication that we didn’t address before deciding to jump into a relationship. Not that it would have truly mattered in the end, since we were forced to live together anyway, but the emotional part might have been easier to manage.
“Until we’re killed. Whether that’s from being murdered, an accident, or staying human side too long.” I pause before adding, “Though apparently if we sacrifice our abilities, that last one wouldn’t be a factor anymore.”
“So what about us?” Dorian murmurs into my shoulder, like I could have any answers for this situation.
“Not sure, honestly. The couple of times I’ve seen this situation play out back home, Elorie never let them live for more than a few years before they ended up tortured to death.”
Achlys cuts in to assuage our fears. “Your lives are bound by those marks, with Cambria as the center. So long as she lives, you will as well. Though, that’s not to say it will protect you if one of you humans gets tossed off a cliff or snaps your neck. Fae rules apply in this instance.” She taps her finger on her chin. “Though, that’s with a normal tethering. Your bloodline is a force to be reckoned with, so that might change matters. Add in the fact that you have another fae involved, and you truly are in a unique situation I’ve yet to witness in all of my centuries.”
Lovely, so still a freak situation. Awesome.
Dorian’s grip tightens on my waist, and I’m not sure how to interpret it. With as thrilled as he was at the prospect of absorbing my magic before, I like to lean towards positive. But immortality is a bitter pill to swallow for anyone, forced to think of an endless stretch of existence without an estimated end in sight.
He might hate me for it, and that scares the hell out of me. This is exactly why I haven’t gotten close to anyone before. How could anyone love me when my very existence is a plague?
“I can hear the wheels turning in your head, love,” he murmurs against the side of my neck. “Not going anywhere. For a long time, it seems, but that doesn’t change anything, right? The four of us against the world. You’re a goddamn delight and fuck the people that think otherwise.”
A small, grateful smile tugs at the corner of my lips. My fingers trace a path over his arm banded around my waist, hoping he can feel my appreciation for him. There are any number of things I want to say right about now, but it isn’t the time or place.
“Go on,” Lucien prompts, trying to circle us back to the main story. But everything we hear seems to just bring up more questions that need to be addressed, and it’s so easy to lose track of what the biggest problem is that needs to take priority.
“Changelings.” She whispers the words so quietly that I have to strain to hear them, like just speaking their name will bring them back to life for her. “They’re just...power hungry monsters. They can change shape to become anyone, not just a glamour. Even their voice,” she trails off with a shudder and takes a minute to gather her thoughts.
“They can drain your child, don their face, and come into your home like they belong there.” Her voice wavers, coming out as a harsh croak. “And then drain the rest of your family. So you’re left either sharing their fate, or killing a monster that wears your son’s face, that cries in his voice while begging you to stop in an effort to trick you.” Tears stream down her cheeks by the time she’s done and we all do her the courtesy of pretending not to notice.
Atlas gently asks, “If they can be killed, then why does anyone need a guardian?”
Achlys swipes a hand over her face and gets to her feet, forcing us to follow. I quickly snatch my shoes before they get left behind, but just carry them in one hand for now. Not only since my feet are still wet from the river, but because the atmosphere is so much richer here than what I’m used to. It leaves my skin buzzing, unaccustomed to so much energy in the earth around me, and it’s easier to soak up with direct contact.
“Because we learned over the years that killing them has a chain reaction.” She snaps her fingers again, agitated, and commands a few people to finish getting the hall set up for the feast. “Faerie isn’t like your human realm. She lives and breathes, gracing us with her magic and imbuing it into everything she touches. But when we began to finally make headway diminishing the changeling’s numbers, the land reacted. So we realized rather quickly that we couldn’t simply wipe them out, but needed to contain them instead, lest we risk upsetting the delicate balance of nature.”
By the time we reach the opposite side of the city and enter a massive building, everything is set the way the queen commanded. The great hall has row after row of long tables, all piled high with food. There isn’t a separate table for the queen to look down on anyone. Instead, she sits on an empty bench in the center of the room, motioning for us to join her.
Other fae sit across from us and on either side of our party as the bench starts filling up, and I have a brief stab of panic at being surrounded. Atlas senses my rising anxiety, settling a hand on my knee under the table and stroking his thumb back and forth steadily. On my other side is Achlys, and she wastes no time loading up her plate, using it as a perfect break in the conversation.
We follow her lead, and I actually appreciate the way she’s not just dumping information on us. She’s giving us bite sized pieces to process, letting us keep our heads from spinning and ensuring we don’t become overloaded, freak out, and run. She’s unconventional for certain, but I don’t hate her as much as I thought I would after her display of abilities earlier. No one is perfect, but she seems to at least try.
“And my ancestors ended up having the best suited abilities to be their jailors, I presume?” I take a bite of food, swooning, and promptly start stuffing my face.
The queen nods. “And they only continued to grow and evolve throughout the centuries.” It makes sense, though I hate that it does.
“So where does Elorie come into things?” Dorian hangs on the queen’s every word, leaning closer so that he doesn’t miss a single thing amongst the steady hum of chatter surrounding us.
She slams her cup down harsher than intended and a bit splashes over the rim. “Because Elorie is a power hungry bitch, draining everything around her. It wasn’t enough to take the magic from the earth, she needed more. When news spread of her pregnancy taking a toll on her, developing complications, she sought out help from Cambria’s parents.”
Dabbing her napkin on the mess, she tries to temper her rage. “And no one expected a pregnant woman would kill the people that saved her child’s life. She took their newborn when she left and claimed to birth twins.”
My stomach churns. “It’s the floating island, isn’t it?”
She nods, like I knew she would, and I feel sick. I always worked it up in my head that it was some magical place that only the most elite were able to visit, somewhere where the fae that wanted nothing to do with the petty people down here chose to live away from the rest. But I should have known that nothing the fae touch in Faerie is truly magical. Only the swaths of nature they leave alone are genuinely beautiful.
“Wait, so this is probably unimportant, but,” Dorian hesitantly asks. “If it was just Cambria’s family up there, how did they...I mean, keeping the line going,” he trails off, looking embarrassed.
Achlys frowns. “Even fae have standards, thank you very much. The guardians were
n’t imprisoned, they were wardens. They could still fly down and find mates, shop, have lives. They just chose to live up there and only come down on occasion.”
“But Cambria doesn’t have wings,” Lucien protests and I sigh, standing up to rip off the final band aid.
I lift the back of my shirt and drop the one piece of glamour I perpetually keep in place, not wanting to ever see their pity or rage. There are several sharp hisses and curses, and I quickly snap the glamour back in place, self-conscious.
“I thought you just had them concealed,” Achyls whispers in horror as I hastily retake my seat, not wanting to meet anyone’s eye.
“They didn’t just cut them off,” Atlas seethes. “What did they do to you?”
I take another bite of food despite my lack of appetite, just to buy myself a second to choose how to phrase things. “They wanted to make sure I could never escape and hurt anyone, that I could be managed. They grew back several times as a kid after a long enough stretch of healing, so they burned the skin until there was too much damage and scar tissue to ever fully regenerate again.”
“Piper’s comment.” Dorian’s voice drips with horror and disdain, “About clipping the little bird’s wings. I thought it was just an expression.”
Taking a sip of water, I clear my suddenly dry throat. “Nope, she’s just a cunt.”
Lucien rubs his temple. “And without Cambria at the prison to keep the changelings in check, part of the energy Elorie stripped from her had to be funneled back into keeping them subdued. Which would mean...” His eyes widen the same time that my stomach sinks with the realization.
“That now that she isn’t siphoning power from me, there’s nothing keeping the changelings imprisoned.”
***
The pillow is softer than anything I’ve felt before, and a tiny voice just wants me to sink into it and suffocate. After dinner, Achlys had people show us to a house we could claim as our own, welcoming us to stay forever.
