by J. A. Curtis
“Looks like the message is only for you,” he said.
“Message?”
The bird hopped down my arm and jabbed its scrawny leg in my face. A miniscule round cylinder strapped to its leg indicated I had mail. I untied the string that held the cylinder in place and opened the tiny lid on top. My fingers pieced apart the yellowed and cracked strip of paper. My breath caught in my throat as I read the message meant only for me.
That’s your plan? Coming now. Wait for me. Please don’t do this.
Dramian
12
Inevitable
“Don’t fear the inevitable.”
HE STOOD, TWICE AS high as a two-story home. He made Arius’s golem look like a dwarf. Flabs of muscle and fat combined until he looked like some morbid twist between a rock and a marshmallow. Deep metal spikes jutted out from his knees, his chest, his arms, his shoulders, his abdomen. Anyone who got within ten feet of him would be impaled on the long, pointed poles. When he stepped, the ground beneath groaned and rolled like waves in a dark ocean. A long, spiked ball hung on the end of a chain—the mace handle clutched in one enormous fist. One swing would knock down buildings and shred bone.
But this wasn’t what made the monster terrifying.
The most ominous part of the creature lay on its head. He wore what at first glance looked like an upside-down crown, but on closer inspection turned out to be metal poles that grew directly into the monster’s skull. A metal rod ran around the poles, connecting them all together and covering his forehead. Attached to the metal rod hung flaps of cloth. They lay on top of another, swaying with each step or blowing in the breeze. Two large sunken eyes lay below the flaps. He came forward, swinging his mace in front of him and roaring in a mighty rage.
I woke sweating, leapt from my bed, and paced the length of my room. Whatever the flaps covered, whatever was underneath—I would give anything for those pieces of cloth to remain right where they were—each step, each rustle of the corners... I wiped my sweaty hands on my pajamas.
The feeling had been deep and pressing as the monster approached. The last thing, the last thing I wanted to see was what lurked under those flaps of cloth.
But it wasn’t just the dread that had woken me in a cold sweat. It was the... inevitability. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I wished the flaps wouldn’t lift, I knew... they were going to, anyway.
13
Love and Loyalty
“Fight for those you love, Mina.”
I SAT IN MY ROOM THE next day, staring at the note from Dramian. The note had been warped and worn. Dramian hadn’t sent that note recently.
What did it mean? Could a metal bird have carried the note around the last fifteen years, enduring the elements and weather until I happened to show up?
That wasn’t possible.
“You wanted to see me?” Arius asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I want to contact my parents.”
So many questions, no definite answers. If it was fifteen years old, at least Dramian could have written the name of the person he addressed the note to.
Not to mention the more I thought about what happened with my faerie guardian, the more freaked out I became. Part of the fear came from the knowledge that I had liked it. That I wanted to lose myself in my faerie guardian again. But I had almost injured both of us, and at the time, I hadn’t cared.
And Arius acted like this was all normal.
Then there was the dream, or vision, or whatever. The dread still weighed on me. In the past, I had always dismissed anything scary as a dream. Something of the past or something of the future? Either way, I didn’t want to believe that what I saw was real. That... that creature existed.
I rubbed my gauntlet where Corbin’s bracelet rested underneath. Everything I had experienced since the incident with the truckers had left me off balance. I needed my parents.
“Why?” he demanded.
“Why? Because they are my parents... or the people who raised me, and they are probably freaked out I’ve been gone all this time, and I should let them know that I’m all right.”
This was how our conversation started twelve days after I arrived at the Haven. Just because I lived with the faeries didn’t mean I planned on severing all ties with my human family—did I just call them my human family? The people I cared about most. I figured I would get some backlash from Arius, but it was time to broach the subject.
Arius gave me a long hard stare before opening his mouth and saying, “Look—”
“There is no arguing with me, Arius. Not about this. I will be careful. I won’t tell them where I am or about the faeries.” They wouldn’t believe me, anyway. “I need to let them know I am okay.”
“You need to see something,” he said.
He led me out of the room and turned toward Nuada’s office. He walked with purpose to the office door. What was he going to do? Tell on me? But the office was empty. Arius shut the door after I entered and stepped next to the chair sitting behind Nuada’s desk. He motioned for me to sit down. I walked over to the chair and sank into the plushness. I glanced at Arius. This couldn’t be allowed.
But he didn’t seem to notice. He opened one drawer on the desk and pulled out a flash drive and plugged it into the laptop sitting on the desk, then logged in.
He opened the drive and clicked on the file that said “Mina.” My freshman yearbook picture popped up on the screen first. I noticed an article below it, then I read the title.
“Teenage Girl Tragically Dies in House Fire”
My eyes scanned the next sentence of the article:
Mina Kelly, age 15, died last Thursday night in a tragic house fire during a party that was being held at her grandmother’s home in Post Falls, Idaho.
How could they think that? I didn’t read further. The first line said it all. My family and friends, everyone, believed I was dead.
“Faerie bodies turn to ash quickly after they fall,” Arius said. “With the fire, they probably thought Tily’s decomposing body was you.”
This was so messed up. “I need to talk to them.”
“You can’t.”
I glared at him. “My family thinks I’m dead. If it weren’t for you, they wouldn’t be in pain right now. You could have found another way.”
“Like what?”
“You could’ve come to me, explained things.”
“And then what?” he said, trying and failing to hide a condescending smile. “Even if you had agreed to come. Then would we have gone to your parents? Like they would have let some strange boy whisk you off to faerie land. Don’t be a child, Mina.”
My hands gripped the sides of the desk. Oh, how I wanted to wipe that smug smile from his face.
“I forgot,” I said, my voice like ice. “All you’ve ever known is how to be a heartless soldier.”
The smile disappeared. Victory. “I’m heartless,” he said. “If you love your family so much, why did you wait twelve days to even mention them?”
I released the desk, a heat rising in my cheeks.
Every time thoughts about my parents arose, I had shoved them aside. But I wasn’t just waiting.
They had forced Nana into a nursing home. My Nana. The woman with silvery hair and stubborn jaw who had taken the time to play long strategy games with me every Thursday after school and listened to my struggles—her passionate voice my inspiration to keep trying. She taught me how to analyze problems, stand up to bullies and patch up old worn jeans with holes in the knees. My parents acted like a few forgotten memories or mishaps or, or whatever were enough reasons to force Nana away from the life she knew and loved—and to sell her beloved house.
And then they pretended what they were doing was somehow compassionate.
But Nana insisted she was fine. She was fine. If she wasn’t, what would the alternative be? Saying Nana was unable to live in her home was like saying she was unable to be there for me. I couldn’t lose Nana.
A
nd so I had waited, to let my parents suffer.
The bracelet on my wrist burned. But to punish them, I had let Corbin suffer too. Yes, I worried about him, even attempted feeble escapes in his name. But his pain had become a casualty to my desire to get back at my parents.
A horrible sinking gripped my stomach. I had inflicted pain on those I loved, not just because they had hurt Nana, but because they had also hurt me. I was Thaya, taking my anger out on those who had caused me pain.
Fight for those you love, Mina. The advice of Nana both mocked and goaded me forward.
“I’m going to talk to them,” I said.
“Talking to your family will only cause them more pain. Let them move on.”
He was right. There was only one way to fix this. “I need to live with my family again.”
He stiffened. “You would choose them over us.”
“Just as you would choose the faeries over me,” I shot back. We both knew he would in an instant. “I won’t tell anyone about where I’ve been or about the faeries. I promise.”
Yes, they were human. Yes, they’d never understand what it meant to be a faerie. But I couldn’t give them up, either. Not forever.
“So you want to go live with your family and never come back?”
“That’s not what I—” I faltered. My family or the faeries. Were those my options? Could I have both? “I just need to see them.”
He paced across the floor. “And when they resent you for not telling them, when you realize that the only way to stop the pain for your family is to tell them about us,” he said, shaking his head, “you will give in.”
“I will not,” I said.
“By choosing them over us, you have already proven what you will do,” he said, his voice rising. “Once you get back, what’s stopping you? We’ll be taken, scattered, forced to live like humans. Both us and Dramian. You will ruin our lives.”
I was out of my seat now. “I said I wouldn’t.”
“What reason would you have not to?”
I slumped back in the chair, my arms folded. “That’s a good question. I guess that’s the consequence of forcing someone instead of letting them choose.”
We heard a shout and pounding on the door. Arius spun on his heel and jerked the door open. “What?” he barked.
Luchta stood on the other side of the door, face flushed, breathing hard. “Sir, there’s been an attack down at the mine.”
“Who attacked?” Arius said, already stepping through the doorway. I scrambled around the large oaken desk to follow.
“The kids say it was a monster, but not any faerie guardian they know of,” Luchta said.
“Anyone hurt?” he asked, already at the stairs. Luchta jogged to keep up. I followed close behind.
“Taxir. Palon has gone in to get him out,” Luchta said. “He was the closest on duty, and I was the second. He sent me to get you.”
“Get Caelm off duty and back at the manor. Send Nerime and Docina to the forest—they will use the birds and search the area. Everyone else stays at their post on high alert.” Arius threw the front doors wide, and we stepped out into the morning sunshine.
“Yes, sir,” Luchta said. She took off to deliver the messages. I kept pace with Arius as he stalked around the backside of the manor. The grounds were empty today because half the faeries were gone on a supply run.
“What do you think attacked them?” I asked. He stopped and looked at me as if just realizing I was there.
“Stay here,” he said.
“If I am a leader—”
“Leaders don’t abandon those they lead whenever they feel like it,” he growled and took off running toward the forest.
I ran after him. I didn’t care what he said.
Arius had stopped running, and as I rounded a tree, I saw him talking to Palon, who carried a small injured boy in his arms. Three other pale and frightened five-year-olds gathered around them.
“Is everyone safe?” I heard Arius ask as I ran up and ground to a halt.
Palon frowned. “We haven’t been able to find Dairlin. The little ones think she may be trapped or hiding down below, too afraid to come out.”
Dairlin. I pictured the little girl with the charm necklace from the day before, with her wide and innocent eyes.
“Everyone go back to the manor and stay there,” Arius commanded. “Caelm should be there to tend to Taxir. Palon, after you drop him off, meet me back at the entrance to the mine.”
“Yes, sir,” Palon and the five-year-olds all said at once.
Arius turned away and headed for a large hole in the ground. It looked like an old air shaft that someone had enlarged. A rope came out of the shaft, tied to a nearby tree.
“What were they doing down there?” I asked. I had decided the “everyone” in Arius’s order didn’t apply to me.
Arius ignored me as he walked toward the shaft, grabbed the rope, and climbed into the mouth of the hole.
“I will be back when I find Dairlin. Stay up here but be on the lookout. I can’t guarantee whatever is down there is not someone’s faerie guardian. Whoever it belongs to might be around here somewhere,” he said.
“You can’t go down alone. Your golem is too big—it will be useless.”
“So will your griffin,” Arius countered. “I can see in the dark. You can’t. You’ll only get in the way.”
I picked up a flashlight one kid must have dropped while fleeing the shaft. My thumb pressed the switch, and at first nothing happened. I banged it against my palm, and the light flashed on. I turned the light on Arius.
“This is my responsibility,” he said. “Stay here. When Palon gets back, send him down with the flashlight.”
Arius disappeared down the mine shaft.
Palon. I had to wait up here to send Palon down. Because Palon hadn’t just said ‘screw you, I’m out of here’ to his face less than ten minutes ago. Not to mention Palon’s ability was useful, while mine...
I shut my eyes trying to force a vision. I tried to see the future, what would happen, what I should do. Or the past, perhaps understand how a creature had ended up down there attacking little children.
But nothing came. I paced back and forth. I hated this. I hated that Arius was down there alone. I hated that Palon hadn’t returned yet. I hated that a part of me believed Arius was right—I would only get in the way.
I peered into the darkness of the shaft. I couldn’t just sit up here. What if Arius got hurt? Or fell? What if I could have stopped it? It would be my fault for sitting up here and doing what my subordinate ordered me to do.
I stuck the flashlight in my sword belt, gripped the rope in my hands and slid into the shaft opening, placing my feet against the opposite side of the shaft wall to steady myself. Hand over hand, I lowered myself down into the darkness. The flashlight, though pointed up, gave me some light to work with. I came to the end of the rope, so I dangled my feet into nothing. I’d have to trust the ground was nearby. Come on, Mina, if little five-year-olds can do it, so can you. My hands released the rope, and I fell about two feet before I landed on solid rock. The rope knocked against my head as if mocking me for freaking out over nothing.
Pulling the flashlight from my belt, I shone it on the dark mine walls. One pathway stretched ahead. A cave-in blocked the pathway behind. I wondered how often that happened. The path ahead forked off into three separate tunnels.
Not only would I have to look out for some terrifying, violent monster while trying to find a scared little girl, I’d also need to not get lost. What if when I came to an intersection, I took only right turns? It would have to do until I found Arius or Dairlin.
I moved ahead, taking only right turns but found my way blocked by a cave in. I backtracked and took the next most right turn, my plan already being subverted by the need to remember the blocked off junctures.
Should I risk calling out to find Dairlin or Arius? What if my yelling led the monster to me first? I searched in silence.
A shou
t brought me around. Arius. It was followed by a vicious roar that echoed through the tunnel and caused dirt to fall from the ceiling. My blood ran cold. I pulled my sword and charged back the way I had come.
A part of me wondered what I was doing, running to meet a large, ferocious beast. But I silenced that part and kept going.
I came upon an open cavern. The light from my flashlight glinted off Arius’s sword as he stood facing a large mass of teeth, horns, and tusks.
Both Arius and the monster turned toward my light, the creature towered over Arius, it’s eyes wild and bloodshot. I wondered if Arius thought I was Palon behind the beam of light. He called out, “We’re too late. Dairlin’s gone.” He pointed to his left, so I turned my flashlight in that direction.
The beam fell on what was left of a child’s outfit; the cloth torn and shredded until it was barely recognizable. I leaned against the cold stone, feeling sick.
Arius charged forward into the shaggy hair and flashing tusks. The beast kicked him back against the cave wall. Should I rush the creature from behind? It focused its attention on Arius. If we worked together, we might defeat the monster that had... what? Devoured Dairlin? Torn her limb from limb? Had she fallen, or was she gone for good? Only a creature of magic could kill a faerie, or so Dramian claimed. But what was this beast? Where had it come from? Was it magical?
I slid along the side wall, watching as Arius again rushed the monster. I knelt next to the shredded cloth. No blood stained them or the surrounding rock walls. I shone my light around. Horrible scratch marks were everywhere but no blood.
The beast let out a cry of pain and retreated from Arius, cowering against the back wall. Turning my light on the creature, I saw an angry red smear across the beast’s right shoulder. Something glinted in the light at its neck. Was it wearing a collar? I squinted, then gasped.
Arius charged forward yet again, ready to lay the final blow on the cowering beast.
“Stand down, soldier!” I yelled forcefully.
