Betrayed

by Julia Crane

  There was no way I was giving in that easily. “We can bring him back.” I reached for the baby, and grabbed the slippery halfling in my hand. Laying him out on the chair, I connected my energy with his and I knew that my mother was right. I called on Mother Earth for her help, and anchored myself to the core of the planet. Closing my eyes I left my body and flew through the cosmos, chasing the baby’s soul essence. It was a beautiful soul—blue swirled with gold. It was going higher and higher, so close to the light of the moon. If it made it to the dark side of the moon, it would be too late.

  My soul and his were now side by side. Telepathically I spoke to the baby. “Please, come back. You have just arrived and we need your help. I wish to get to know you and love you.”

  The soul brightened. “It was not my time. I am not strong enough to help from that side. I can do more help through the veil. Mother, others are going to die. You must be strong. We were practicing this round. Some will come back and some will stay behind the veil. It is how it is to be. There will be some that are strong enough to stay and help the planet. But not many, I’m afraid.”

  “It’s not too late. I can bring you back with me. We still have time.”

  “I’ll be with you if you need me. We are linked, I can now relay to you information on how to move forward with helping the Earth recover. This is how it has to be. How it was planned.”

  In a flash the soul flew the rest of the way up into the light and then out of sight into the darkness.

  My soul dropped back into my body where I stood clutching the lifeless baby in my hands, tears streaming down my face. My heart felt as if it had shattered into a million pieces.

  “I’m sorry, daughter. We knew this was a risk.” She dropped her arm around my shoulders.

  “He told me more would die.” My words came out as a choked sob. I sat down on one of the chairs and rocked the baby in my arms. In our realm death was not mourned. It was celebrated because we knew there was an afterlife. But for some reason I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Michael sat down next to me. I hadn’t been able to look at him.

  “Can I hold him?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion. Even though I didn’t want to let him go, I found myself handing the baby to him.

  “It hurts,” he said, staring at the little one’s face. He trailed his finger down the chubby cheek. After leaning down to kiss the little baby’s face, he used his thumb to close the halfling’s eyes. With that motion the baby took on a peaceful appearance.

  Another beep went off. My head shot up in alarm. Please, not yet, it can’t be happening this quickly. I needed more time with them. “Mother, send a mass healing to them right away!” I yelled, jumping to my feet.

  We both went to work trying to be a step ahead but it was useless—the universe was calling the souls home.

  Within the next two hours only seven of the halflings were left. I’d never experienced such a sense of loss before in my life. It felt as if there was literally a rip in my heart and it would never be whole again.

  I was exhausted, but I knew I couldn’t sleep. I had no more tears to cry but my heart ached.

  “We need to give them a proper burial,” my mother said, snapping me out of my misery.

  Why hadn’t I thought of that?

  “Should we bring them back to our realm?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, Earth is their home.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. And no one in our realm would understand. “I’ll go make a special garden.”

  My mother nodded. “I’ll prepare the bodies.”

  I glanced over the little bundles. In one day I’d lost ten children. How was that possible? Why would the Creator do such a thing? The little boy said it was so they could help us from the other side. Maybe, but wasn’t there an easier way? One that didn’t hurt so much? It would be days until they would be able to talk to us. The death cycle would have to take place. First they would be sent to healing chambers to repair whatever caused their deaths, and they would need to be prepared on what would happen to them next. Whatever that may be.

  I found myself walking back toward the tank. The little ones did not look sad. I wanted so badly to take one out and hold them, but I was afraid. There was no way I was going to risk it. Not until Henrek said it was okay. Please, please, Creator, let us keep these. Don’t take any more from us.

  Michael put his arm around my shoulder and I dropped my head onto his chest. His chest heaved with grief and hurt at the loss.

  “Can I help with the garden?’” His voice was thick.

  Not really, I thought. But I needed to have him with me. He was grieving just as I was. “I’d like that,” I said in a broken whisper, feeling numb.

  Together we made our way out of the castle. There were a few concerned glances but no one said anything, thankfully. I wasn’t sure I could handle any explanations right now. We’d probably have to wait until night fall to bring out the halflings. The less people that knew, the better.

  I wanted to make a sanctuary of sorts for their little bodies. Somewhere that I could visit them often, but also out of the way because I wasn’t ready to share my loss. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready for that.

  As we walked through the back of the courtyard I threw up a glamour. Basically if anyone got nosey they would look out the window and see Michael and myself sitting on rocks talking. But in reality it was an illusion. We went a little deeper, and with a flick of my wrist I drew up a row of hedges from the ground. Mother Earth knew I was in pain and had granted me full access to her powers, allowing me to use her energy to co-create whatever I wished without drawing energy from myself. I was grateful.

  After the hedges were in place, I let out a breath. “How are you?” I asked Michael.

  “I feel like a rug’s been pulled from under me. One minute I was scared and excited and the next horrified and crushed.”

  I knew exactly what he was talking about.

  “Do you think the others will make it?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to give him false hope, but the one I’d talked to said some would make it. But he didn’t tell me how long they would live. Like Henrek explained, we had no idea how long their lifespans would be. “I hope they all do. But I can’t say for sure.”

  Michael hung his head.

  My eyes scanned the area. I wanted the garden to be perfect, but I had no idea what to do.

  “Let me, child,” the wind whispered in my ear.

  I nodded and sank to my knees. “Thank you,” I whispered in return.

  Michael looked confused but lowered himself until he was next to me. Our shoulders brushed, we both watched as flowers bloomed around us—reds, yellows, blues, and more. Roses wrapped around branches that sprouted out from the grounds.

  Within minutes the most exquisite garden I’d ever seen formed before our eyes.

  Ten large crystal pyramids, which were placed in a geometric pattern, appeared. I knew the bodies of the halflings would be buried beneath them.

  My soul was soothed slightly at the sight. They would be well cared for and even in death they would radiate power throughout the lands.

  “It’s stunning,” Michael murmured, rising to his feet. As if compelled to do so he made his way to the crystals. He placed his hand on one of them, and pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned. “What is that?” he asked, alarmed.

  Easing myself to standing, I joined him and placed both of my hands on the same crystal. The power was immense. Too much for a human to hold. But for me it was a welcomed recharge. The energy traveled up my arms and through my etheric body, settling on my heart. It could not take away the loss, but it reminded me even though the halfings were not with me in body, they would always be with me in spirit.

  Dropping my hands, I turned toward Michael. “I’m glad you were there today.”

  He looked away. “I wish they were still alive.”

  “We can’t let our grief keep us from the others. They wi
ll need us.”

  He raked his hand through his unruly hair. “You’re right. It’s just so much to take in. In a matter of days, I’ve lost my parents, most of my tribe, and now the babies.”

  I hadn’t even given much thought to his parents, he really had been through a lot. We all had. But the Earth still needed us. And we had to put on a strong front for the ones that had survived.

  “We should go back.” I reached for his hand, which clasped mine firmly. We’d barely known each other not even a full moon cycle and yet I’d shared more with him than anyone else in my lifetime. Even if things did not work out between us, we’d always be bonded. Who would have thought? A human and a fae?

  We needed each other to get through this and we’d worry about the rest later.

  Chapter Four

  Burying the halflings was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. We kept the ceremony simple—just the three of us. Henrek was left to keep an eye on the others. I’d hoped they could have left the tanks to join us but that was wishful thinking. When they were old enough I’d bring them to the garden and explain to them exactly what’d happened. Although, they probably knew better than I did. Since, surely they were still energetically attached to their siblings.

  I couldn’t bear to leave the burial grounds. My mother tried to persuade me but I just wanted to be with them, even though I knew their souls had moved on and it was probably absurd. Eventually my mother went back to the castle, and Michael stayed with me.

  It hurt so much. I was tired of being strong, putting on a front that I understood the way the universe worked and knew it was for the best. It wasn’t fair. Even if there was some greater purpose, I wanted more time. As all these thoughts whirled through my head, I slid down until I was laying on the ground. I felt the energy of the earth but even that wasn’t enough to soothe my soul. My body longed to release the pain I felt, for the loss of life. The loss of potential.

  However, I couldn’t show weakness, so I pulled myself back up to sitting. Michael was watching me, his own eyes moist. I’d forgotten he was there but I welcomed his presence. Having him with me made me feel not quite so alone. The loss of the babies would be something we’d always share. I wondered if he also felt like a sliver of his soul was taken with each of their lives.

  He came and knelt beside me. “I wish there was something I could do.”

  Turning, I looked at him for a moment. “I’m glad you at least got to see them before they were taken from us.”

  He nodded. “Me too. I wish we’d had more time, but we still have the others. I know that is not what you want to hear but don’t you think we should go back and see the ones that have survived?” Michael asked quietly. “Spend time with them.”

  My body stilled, my heart constricted. It’s not that I’d forgotten about them, I had not, but he was right. We should be with them. I squeezed my eyes shut before nodding. “You’re right. I think I’m afraid to see them.”

  “Why?”

  Drawing a deep breath, I opened my eyes. “I don’t know if I can handle any more deaths. And yet I don’t feel like it’s over yet.”

  His gaze searched mine. “You think there will be more that leave us?”

  “I don’t want to believe it, but yes.” On shaky feet, I rose to standing. “But I should be in there sending them healings. Maybe it’s possible to save them all.” But deep down I didn’t believe that. I knew if it was their time I could not help them. No matter how powerful I was.

  Together we made our way back to the others.

  It was hard not to take them out and hold them but I didn’t dare risk it.

  We spent the night in the basement with Henrek. I wondered if that man ever slept. All night he was up writing in his charts and looking through his microscopes.

  Michael and I dozed off a couple of times—the hum of the tanks was relaxing, and the babies were sleeping. Suddenly, a loud beep startled me awake.

  My heart sank as I watched Henrek pull two more lifeless babies out of the tank. We were down to five. Why was this happening? I found myself frantically searching to make sure it wasn’t the baby with the different colored eyes. As if he knew I was searching for him, he swam up to the tank, his tiny lips tilted up slightly. Was he smiling at me? Dear spirits, I wanted to hold him badly. I love you, I said mentally. He moved closer. I kept my focus on him so I didn’t have to hear what was going on with the ones that didn’t make it. I didn’t have the strength to look over at their perfect little bodies. I needed to see life, hope. Please, let us keep the rest. You’ve taken enough from us.

  Michael’s shoulder brushed mine. I hadn’t even realized he’d come over. “A girl and a boy.”

  My shoulders sagged and my head dropped onto the glass. Taking a deep breath, I attempted to compose myself. I needed to see them even though it hurt so much. They deserved acknowledgement of their passing.

  Crossing the room, I dropped to my knees before their chubby little bodies. So beautiful. The girl had dark hair, greenish skin, and pale eyes. The boy’s hair was purple and his skin pale. The combination of fae and human was quite beautiful. A perfection of sorts, I thought as I ran my hand over their little hands and toes.

  “Do you think any of them will make it?” Michael asked Henrek.

  He ran his hand through his springy hair. “I don’t know. It’s not looking good. I’d really thought this time …”

  Not bothering to look up, I said, “I think the rest will live. I don’t know how long their lifespans will be, but whatever has taken the lives of the little ones, is done. I can feel it. It’s over, for now.”

  Michael let out an audible sigh of relief. If only I could feel relief. I had to find a way to push past this despair that had taken over. It made no sense to me. As I’d said before, in our realms death was celebrated. Why couldn’t I feel joy for them? Because they never really had a life? I don’t know. But I needed to shake it because I was of no help if I was unable to function properly.

  “We should go to our rooms and get some sleep. Tomorrow we need to help the others. Henrek, take care of the bodies. In the morning we’ll bury them with their siblings.”

  “Are you okay?” Michael asked as we made our way back to the main floor.

  “No,” I answered truthfully. “But we have to keep putting one foot in front of the other. There is still much to be done.”

  “Tulupea, stop it.”

  My steps faltered. “Stop what?”

  “Stop acting like you can’t show your emotions. You lost a part of you today, we both did. This morning we found out we had seventeen offsprings. Tonight we have five. It’s okay to show your sorrow. I’m hurting, too. You can be a princess tomorrow, tonight let’s comfort each other. Okay?”

  My heart rate accelerated. His hand cupped my face, smoothed down my hair, and slowly he dropped his head until our lips brushed. It was a soft, sweet kiss.

  Taking my hand he led me into my bedroom. “Let down your walls, Tulupea. You have nothing to prove to me.”

  His arms encircled my waist. Dropping my head on his shoulder, I sobbed, crying like I’d never cried before. My body heaved with sorrow, I didn’t think it was ever going to stop. His arms tightened, and eventually the tears subsided. There was an emptiness inside of me but also a much needed release.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

  Startled, I looked up, wiping the tears away with the back of my palm. “For what?”

  “Trusting me enough. I know you have a role to uphold, but I want you to know with me, you never need to wear a mask.” His lips met mine and I found mine opening in return. This kiss was desperate, I swear it seemed as if I was trying to crawl into his skin. I wanted his comfort, his acceptance more than anything I’d ever wanted. I knew it was too soon to have these feelings but I couldn’t have stopped them if I wanted to.

  A shudder ran through me when his hand dropped to my waist, easing slowly back up my ribs, higher until his hand gently cupped my
breast. His thumb grazed my nipple, igniting a desire I didn’t realize I was capable of.

  Everything faded, all that was left was me and him. I wanted him, the way a woman wants a man. My head fell back opening my neck, which he didn’t hesitate to trail his mouth down.

  I realized we were walking backwards; he was pulling me toward the bed. My body stiffened.

  “Hey? What’s wrong?” he whispered.

  I groaned. “I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. I’m not sure how things work in your world, Michael, but … you don’t understand.”

  He smiled and shushed me. “I’m not asking for anything. I just want to hold you, that’s all. I’d never ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

  My body sagged into his. Not that the idea of losing myself in him wasn’t tempting. It would be incredibly easy. I had so many raw emotions running through me, but my mother had drilled it into my head since a child that I had to be pure when I became queen. Ridiculous and outdated, but it was what it was. Which was why I had been so shocked that she’d wanted me to pair with a human. I should have known she’d found a way around the actual merging part.

  “I’m sorry. I want to. It’s frightening how badly I want to, but I can’t.”

  “I said stop it. Just let me hold you.”

  Briefly, I debated telling him to leave. I honestly wasn’t sure I could spend the night and not give into the attraction. With a sigh I said, “Okay, I don’t want to be alone.”

  “Me either.” His voice was raw.

  Mentally and emotionally exhausted we kicked off our shoes and fell into bed. Michael pulled me into him and I breathed in his scent, relaxing into his strong arms. When the tears fell, I didn’t try to stop them, his lips brushed my forehead.

  Neither of us spoke, just held each other and listened to the other’s breathing. It wasn’t long before his breathing became deeper, his head lolled to the side, but his grip around my waist did not relax. I soon followed him into slumber, wishing I could fall asleep in his arms every night.