by Amy Sumida
As soon as the soil covered me, I went rushing back to the Amber Temple; a horrible pain and urgency filling me. The trees formed circuits with the heart; sending sap back to replenish what was sent into them. Along the way, I saw those streams of sap flowing toward the heart, but the infected veins were broken; curled in on themselves. I looked around the golden network surrounding the sap heart and noted all of the shriveled, black veins. Then I surged up into my body and opened my eyes to see the solid amber wall before me. My body ached with the pain I'd been shown; as if just my spiritual travel through that filth was enough to bruise me. That and the speed of the vision, which was enough to leave me reeling.
Declan's hands steadied me, and his cheek pressed against mine. “Breathe deeply, sweetheart. Just focus on breathing; don't speak yet.”
I did as he suggested; breathing through the disorientation. Then I turned in his arms and hugged him; tears pouring down my cheeks. Declan didn't try to comfort me with words; he merely held me and rocked me gently. I felt my other consorts circle us, and then they laid their hands on me. Our connection blossomed, and I was able to pull on their strength. I took another, steadier breath before I eased away from Declan.
“If the poison isn't coming from the temple directly, it's from somewhere very close,” I said.
“It can't be from here,” Torin said. “They showed us every room in this place, and there was nothing that could cause a forest to die.”
“Or did they?” Gage asked skeptically. He cast a look toward the other Griffins, and they nodded in agreement. “That tour felt incomplete to me.”
“You're right,” Cerberus agreed. “That bitch made a big show of taking us around. It's a stage magician's trick; 'Look over here, look over here!'”
“While they slide a piece of a playing card into your shoe,” Torin finished with a sage nod.
Cerberus scowled in confusion.
“You had to be there.” I smirked. “Street performer.”
“Ah; the old playing card in the shoe trick.” Cerberus laughed. “That's right, Onyx King; I think that fairy Blooder was trying to slip a card into our shoes. She was definitely hiding something.”
“Fairy Blooder?” Banning groaned. “Come on, Cer.”
“That's what she is, man.” Cerberus shook his head unsympathetically. “She's a fairy who drinks blood. At least you ain't related.”
“Very few Blooders are related,” Banning huffed. “We're created, not born.”
“Can someone please explain to me what's being said right now?” Reyne asked with wide eyes; the leaves around his face shivered with agitation.
“They think the Trinity has tricked us into believing that we've seen every room in this temple; when in fact, we have not,” Odin explained.
“Oh.” Reyne nodded. “Well, I can assure you that they showed us every room that I know of. If there is a space that is hidden, then they created it themselves.”
“Interesting,” I murmured.
“What else did Amber say to you?” Declan asked.
“She didn't speak; only gave me visions,” I explained. “I saw a heart of sap, collected from all of the trees of Primeval. Sap flows down to the heart from the trees like veins, and then back out to the trees, refreshed with new magic, like arteries.”
“It's their way of sharing magic and life,” Reyne confirmed. “The trees are all connected. Which is why poison is so dangerous for them; especially if their sap carries the infection.”
“Yes, I saw that too,” I said. “A ribbon of infection twisted down from the surface and touched several arteries leading to the trees. But the poisoned trees have sacrificed themselves. They disconnected their veins going back to the heart. I saw blackened lines of sap that had been broken.”
“They're trying to save their brethren,” Reyne whispered sadly; tears springing to his eyes. “And all of us. We owe them our lives. If the infection had made it back to the heart, all of Primeval, and then all of Tír na nÓg would have sickened.”
We went silent for a moment; partially in honor of the trees which were dying so tragically and yet so valiantly, and partially to let the horror of it all sink in.
“Why would someone do this?” I whispered. “There is no benefit to it.”
“They probably didn't mean to,” Torin said.
“He's right,” Odin agreed when we all stared at Torin with skeptical grimaces. “Spells can have adverse reactions, and one of the most common side-effects of black magic is an evil taint which infects anything in its vicinity.”
“An evil taint?” I asked.
“Now, that sounds kinky,” Declan noted with a grin.
“All magic alters energy,” Odin explained, ignoring Declan. “Your intent, and the spell itself, factor into how the energy is manipulated. If your intent or the spell is dark, you will manifest a sinister aura. Those who delve into black magic have special rooms to cast their spells within. These rooms are usually lined with material made specifically to absorb the excess negativity the magic manifests while you direct the spell and release it onto your target. But, if you were to cast such spells without the proper precautions, you could infect your workspace, and that infection could spread if left untreated.”
“You think that someone is practicing dark magic without anything to absorb the negative byproducts?” I asked.
“Precisely,” Odin said. “If you saw it seep into the ground beneath this temple, it could be coming from here, but it also could be runoff from an altar in the forest.”
“Should we tell the Trinity?” Banning asked.
“I vote; no,” Gage said.
“So do I,” Reyne added.
“I think we're all in agreement,” Torin said. “We keep this information to ourselves for now. When we discover the source of the infection, we'll be able to determine who we can trust. For now, we're in the dark.”
“I wonder why Amber didn't speak to me,” I mused as I looked at the amber wall.
“She only speaks to the Strengths,” Reyne said. “Any fairy can touch Amber and feel her energy, but only the strongest among the lesser races can speak to her. They are similar to the Jewel Monarchs.”
“Oh, okay,” I murmured.
“But we do not get images from her, Your Majesty,” Reyne added. “We can sense things, but never are we shown them. She chose you, and she pushed past the boundaries separating you in order to show you those things.”
“Then I had better not let her down,” I said firmly.
Chapter Sixteen
Dinner had a dangerous undertone to it. We were led to the dining room by a burly redcap guard, and along the way, we spotted several more members of the Trinity Army. I had named them this in my head because they were indeed an army. Every face I passed was new, which meant that the guards had been rotated from the earlier shift. They were set in stationary positions as well as patrolling the halls. The Amber Temple was guarded better than Fort Knox. And yet there had been nothing of real value shown to us. The longer I was there, the more convinced I became that there was more to the temple than met the eye; or at least our eyes.
The dinner conversation was stilted and tense. Eimhir tried to be sweet; playing good Strength to the other two bad ones. But there was an obvious division, and although a truce had been agreed upon, I wasn't hopeful about its lifespan. By the time the meal was over, my shoulders were rock hard with anxiety. I was not accustomed to holding my tongue, and I'd had to do so several times throughout the evening.
“Perhaps they are innocent,” Torin mused after we shut the suite door behind us.
We all turned to stare at him.
“If they were guilty, shouldn't they all be acting like Eimhir?” He pointed out. “Their very rudeness speaks on their behalf.”
“He has a point,” I grumbled. “But something feels wrong here. Maybe we should search the temple tonight.”
“They'll be on high alert tonight,” Declan said. “We don't want to spook them by roaming th
e temple, searching for hidden rooms.”
“He's right,” Odin said. “Let's pretend to trust them for now, and wait until the rest of our team joins us. At least then we'll have some reinforcements.”
“And perhaps it really is Eileen behind all of this,” Banning said. “Theo said he saw a red-haired woman; that does corroborate their story.”
“I can't think about this anymore.” I held up my hand to stop the conversation. “I need some rest. Let's talk about it in the morning.”
“Agreed,” Declan said as he walked over to me. “Goodnight, Elaria.” He kissed me sweetly and then headed to his room.
Banning and Gage did the same, leaving me to retire with Torin. I guess the night in the trees didn't count. Torin smiled at me and took my hand. We said goodnight to the others and went into our bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind us, Torin was on me.
I moaned into his mouth as we yanked the clothes from each other. I still had my panty around one ankle when Torin laid me on the bed. I kicked it off as he joined me, and he covered my body with his massive frame. I ran my hands over his thick biceps as his mouth met mine again; luxuriating in the feel of his muscles tensing as he held himself above me. The scent of his spicy skin covered me as he did, and the heavy weight of his silky, black hair swung forward against my cheek. I ran my hands through the straight length of it; pushing it back so I could see his striking face. High cheekbones, a narrow nose, and a rugged jaw; Torin almost looked Native American. But his skin was a touch too pale—even with the golden tones to it—and his eyes were too large. Then there was their color; an intense blue—like the deepest part of the sea. Torin set that cerulean stare on me as he angled his hips between mine.
“I love you, little bird,” the deep rumble of his voice vibrated across my breasts, “I love you more than all of Tír na nÓg. I'm sorry I forgot that for awhile.”
“You didn't forget,” I whispered. “You remembered too sharply, and the razor-edge of your memory cut us both.”
“No more cuts,” Torin vowed as he slid into me. “Only connection.”
“Only love without the blood,” I agreed.
“Well”—he smiled—“at least with me.”
“Did you just make a joke about Banning while you were inside me?” I widened my eyes at him.
“He's here with us anyway,” Torin said with simple seriousness. “They all are. And that's a good thing, Elaria. You can't be jealous of something when you're a part of everything.”
Torin started to thrust into me faster as he covered me in kisses. I closed my eyes and felt them; my other lovers. Torin was right; they were with us. They didn't have to watch or listen to be a part of our love; they simply were. I could feel their hearts beating with ours—in perfect harmony—and knew that this was the only way our song could survive.
And—just as Torin had said—that was a good thing.
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, we had breakfast in our suite. It was much more enjoyable than dinner had been. We spoke more on the Trinity and Eileen, but in the end, we decided the same thing we had the night before; to wait. After we finished our meal, we were met in the main hall by the Trinity and a group of their guards.
“You tracked the ex-Queen of Copper to Primeval,” Ceanag said. “Can you track her again?”
“It shouldn't be a problem.” I nodded. “I would have done so earlier if I hadn't been intent on getting here.”
“Good,” she said crisply. “Then let's proceed. Your Blooders and our missing fairies are relying on us to save them.”
She was right, of course. We couldn't sit around waiting for the rest of our team to join us before we tried to rescue the missing people. Also, we had agreed to pretend to trust the Trinity, so there was no reason to refuse to help. I looked at the rest of my group, and they nodded.
The other Strengths joined us, and we all headed out of the temple and then to the edge of the forest. The bleeding trees creaked mournfully, and my breath caught in my throat. After feeling their pain—literally traveling through them—it was hard to be unaffected by the sight and sounds of their suffering.
“Is there nothing we can do for them, Odin?” I asked the Witch elder as I blinked back my tears.
“We?” Odin asked. “No; I know of no spell to help them. But perhaps you can”—he cast his gaze meaningfully at my lovers; reminding me that I had more power available to me than we let on—“Spellsinger.”
“Son of a bitch,” I swore.
“El, come on,” Cerberus huffed. “You know I hate that word.”
“Dude, you use that word,” Banning pointed out.
“I hate it when other people use it,” Cer said. “It's like when you can beat up your brother but no one else can.”
“You have a brother?” Banning asked. Then added, “And you beat him up?”
“Why didn't I think of that sooner?” I ignored Cer and Banning.
“We had other things on our minds,” Torin said gently. “Do you truly think you could save them?”
“Possibly.” I widened my stare at him. “With a little support and encouragement.”
“We're with you, Elaria,” Declan said steadily. He cast his gaze at the fascinated Trinity and added, “We'll be right here to guard your back. Won't we, gentlemen?”
Gage and Banning joined Torin and Declan. They circled me; facing outward as if they were protecting me when in actuality, they were adding their strength to mine.
“What are you doing?” Eimhir asked.
“I'm going to try to save the trees,” I said. “We can look for Eileen afterward.”
“You can do that?” Eimhir's face shifted into hope.
“I'm going to try,” I repeated. “I've never healed before, and I'm not sure how much power I'll need to heal so many.”
“Queen Elaria”—Eimhir came to the edge of my man-circle and reached between Banning and Torin to take my hand—“take strength from me.”
I felt a warm surge of energy flow from her hand and into mine. My mental focus became clearer, and I knew immediately what song I needed to sing to help Primeval heal. I gaped at Eimhir; perhaps I'd misjudged the Trinity.
“Thank you, Eimhir; that truly helped,” I said sincerely.
“You're most welcome, Spellsinger,” she said with a smile. “If you can save our dying brothers, you will have my gratitude in return.”
“And mine,” Ceanag held her hand out to me. “I would also like to share strength with you, Queen Elaria.”
I took Ceanag's hand, and another energy rush zinged up my fingers. This one felt lighter, more ethereal. The weight upon my heart lifted, and I knew that I could succeed because the forest needed me. This was my purpose; right here and right now. This was my current destiny.
“And I offer you my strength as well, Your Majesty.” Caorall held out his thick hand to me, and I took it eagerly.
Raw power raced up my arm and invigorated my body. I took a deep breath and felt completely renewed. My muscles flexed with anticipation, and my body centered itself without thought. I took a deep breath—my lungs expanding with the crisp air—and felt as if I could sing for hours.
“Thank you,” I said to the Trinity. “If I succeed, it will be partly due to your help.”
“We failed in our watch,” Eimhir whispered. “It's not something that we like to admit, but it is the truth. If we can help you right this wrong, it would ease our souls as well as save our beloved forest.”
“We'll still have to find whoever is causing this and put an end to it before the threat is completely vanished,” I reminded them.
“Still; this will be a great start,” Eimhir bowed and backed away with the other strengths. “Take your time, Spellsinger. We will gladly wait on your magic.”
I started to sing; a softly-building, mournful cry that climbed higher and higher until I was shouting the words to all of Primeval. The hauntingly powerful music for “Bring Me To Life” by Evanescence rose around me,
and the gathering around us went still. Kyanite called the music forth from my heart and manifested it around us while I pushed my magic up with it; slamming my power into the words.
In my mind, I saw the golden heart of Primeval below me, and then I focused on those curled, broken veins; blackened with poison and shrinking back from life. I sent my magic into those arthritic lines; blasting the evil I found within them with my will and the strength donated to my fight. The darkness started to ebb, and I followed it upward. The trunks of the trees were harder to heal—many were on the verge of liquefying completely—but there was still magic in their tough bark. The trees of Primeval had stood for thousands of years, and that kind of tenacity didn't just lay down and die; it clung to every last hope of survival. And I was their final hope. My voice lifted as I found their dwindling reserves of strength and gave them the power to compound it.
