Realms of Fire and Shadow: Fae Witch Chronicles Book 3

by J. S. Malcom

  Esras frowns again. “You keep them in your pocket? So you can watch made up stories?”

  “Sure. It's called internet and TV.”

  “And you watch these little screens alone,” Esras says.

  “Sure,” I say proudly.

  Esras nods thoughtfully this time, as he processes the information. “How strange.”

  I can't help it, and I burst out laughing.

  Esras's face reddens. “I'm sorry. I guess that was rude of me.”

  “Actually, I guess it is a little strange. Now that you mention it.” To Esras, it must seem weird as hell, but convening the Special Council to get the news strikes me as more than slightly archaic. Still, there’s no sense in going there.

  Another explosion thunders in the distance, this time rattling the room. It occurs to me that what we're experiencing might be some of those fireballs striking closer to home, although it's somehow more comforting to think it’s just the Seelie continuing to be jerks. They can potentially be dealt with. Fireballs raining down from the sky is another matter altogether.

  Esras gets up and goes to where one of the walls is lined with bookshelves and cabinets. He opens a cabinet and gets out two pewter mugs and a corked jug. He brings those to the sofa, sets them on the coffee table, and sits down beside me. Thank you, God.

  Esras uncorks the jug and pours bright blue liquid into each of the mugs, filling them about a third of the way. “Trellberry wine,” he says. “Ever had it?”

  Weirdly, trellberries are always out of season on Earth. “Can't say that I have.”

  Esras's face reddens, presumably as he remembers how I've experienced visiting Faerie so far. He slides one of the mugs to me and picks up his own. “Of course. Well, to your health.”

  The wine is almost neon blue, looking more like something you'd paint with than drink. But what the hell. I lift my mug and say, “Cheers.”

  I take a sip and my taste buds go crazy. The wine is the perfect balance of sweetness and fruit, just dry enough, not too full and with undertones of what tastes like cherry, apple and strawberry. There's also just a hint of vanilla. And I thought the ale in Silvermist was good. Holy wow. Now I just need Esras to heal me some more and I'd deeply consider never leaving this room.

  “It's very brave, what you did,” Esras says. “Coming back here, I mean.”

  I take another sip of my wine, trying not to chug. I really hope that jug is full. “I figured you'd think I'm insane.”

  He smiles. “Well, that did occur to me. Someone in your position would only come back for two reasons. She'd have to be either insane, or very committed to a cause. I took a leap of faith and made the assumption it's the latter.”

  “I came to help my friends,” I say, “and I'm not leaving until I do.”

  Esras nods, keeping his eyes on mine. “That's what I assumed. Otherwise, you’d have stayed in your realm after helping that girl. Ellie, I believe her name was. I’m sorry, but I don’t often enter the house.”

  Which I noticed, of course. And the feeling I get is that he’s not okay with what’s going on there. “Yes, Ellie. She's back with her family now.”

  “I'm glad to hear it.”

  I think again of that night, as I have so many times. My narrow escape from the Ferndelm house with Ellie, the alarm being suddenly sounded, and those men chasing after us on horses. If it hadn't been for Esras, I doubt we would have made it.

  “Speaking of bravery,” I say. “Thank you for what you did.”

  Esras shrugs, as if he did very little. “You're welcome.”

  I shake my head. “No, I mean it. You went up against your family. That can't have been easy.”

  Esras drinks some of his wine, his gaze going distant for a few moments. Finally, he speaks softly. “I've been at odds with them for a long time now. Ever since I was a child, essentially. Although, it wasn't until I got older that I fully understood. Nonetheless, what they do—what my people do—is wrong, and it has to stop.”

  Without meaning to, I drain what's left of my wine. It's just insanely good. Although, it might be the wine that allows me to ask, “But you still live with them? Your family, I mean.”

  “Not in the house, but for now I remain on the property of my ancestors. It's the Seelie way. Does that seem strange to you?”

  If my parents kept slaves? You bet. Then again, it was Esras who helped to free us. He also kept those men from doing whatever they had planned for Ellie, and I'm pretty sure I know what that was. In many ways, Esras is doing more for helping those who are trapped by staying where he is. It's a conundrum, that's for sure, and maybe this isn't the time. Either way, clearly he's trying to help.

  So, I just say, “A little. Yes.”

  Esras cocks his head. “But for many in your realm, I understand it's the same. Depending on cultural tradition. Isn't that so?”

  Actually, I guess he's right. In some countries it’s not unusual for adults to live at home, or for many generations to live beneath one roof. “I meant more like where I grew up,” I say, so he understands where I’m coming from.

  “I see.” Esras lifts the jug, offering more. I nod, maybe a bit too eagerly, and he refills my mug and then his own. “So, you haven’t remained with your family? How old were you when you left them?”

  Oh boy. How to explain things? “Well, I sort of left home sooner than most. I was, well, eleven at the time.” I suck back some wine. A little more than intended, actually. It would appear I'm a bit of a trellberry wine fiend, but I better take it easy. The stuff may not taste like it, but it packs a punch.

  “Where did you go?”

  Right, I kind of figured he’d ask. But then I remember what Cade told me when we first met, that the fae actually know of the supernatural creatures most humans refuse to believe in. “Have you heard of the Vamanec P’yrin?”

  Esras nods. “The race of beings who can dwell within the bodies of others.”

  “Kind of like changelings.”

  His expression darkens. “Another practice that has to end, but yes. Except the Vamanec P’yrin don't create a double. Instead, they inhabit—” Esras stops and stares at me, his mug held aloft.

  It wasn’t what he intended, but I reach mine out to cheers him again. “Bingo. I got nabbed.”

  Esras recovers from his shock. “Your body was stolen? Is that what you’re saying?”

  I shrug. “Yep, that’s the deal.”

  “But you somehow escaped? Where did you go?”

  “Kind of a long story.”

  Esras shrugs. “Well, we have no place to go. And, as luck would have it, we seem to lack tiny screens.”

  I can't help but laugh. I bop my mug against his again, spilling a little this time. “Good one, Esras.”

  Yep, the trellberry wine is definitely kicking in. I really hope I can bring some of this stuff back with me. But he does have a point. We're basically stuck here for now. So, I tell him a condensed version of my seriously messed up life, while he listens intently.

  I explain getting taken at the park on a summer night as a little girl, even as my sister stood just a few feet away. I tell him how Opal wanted to use my unique abilities as a veil witch against her longtime enemy, Paul, and how I psychically escaped to live within Julia for the years during which I would have been growing up. Even though I do my best to streamline, there’s a lot to tell. We’re on our third mug of wine by the time I get to how I accidentally found my way to Faerie, and how Grayson became interested in me, only to turn out to be Vintain in changeling form.

  By the time I’m done, it occurs to me that Esras may know as much about me as anyone in the world. Of course, we’re not in my world, but I’ve trusted so few people with this information. Part of that is because, in my realm, there are so few people I can tell. Non-magical humans would only think I’m insane. As for my witch counterparts, I’ve spent most of my time trying to fit in. It was a rocky start to begin with, and the last thing I want is to keep pointing out how different I am.r />
  It also occurs to me that I might be insane trusting Esras this much. Does he know about the history Kezia shared with me and Cade? Not to mention the prophecy that one of Sativola’s descendants would topple the Seelie from power? Those are his people, whether or not he agrees with what they do. Is it possible that I’m sitting beside my mortal enemy, someone who could soon want to see me destroyed?

  Essentially, maybe I’m just drunk and should shut my mouth. But if there’s anything to Julia’s advice that, if you listen, your inner self will tell you the truth, then I know I can trust Esras with knowing who and what I am. In a sense, I’m betting my life on it, but I know in my heart that he’s a good person. That he’s kind and strong. And, yes, noble. The word suits him perhaps more than anyone I’ve encountered.

  “Vintain,” Esras says, snapping me out of it. “My father knows him, and my mother.”

  My pulse kicks up a notch. “My friend told me he’s something called the High Mage. Is that true?”

  Even though Esras already told me he knows about the person helping me, I still keep myself from using his name. After all, Cade must hate Esras. He’s a Seelie noble, one of the same people Cade has devoted his life to defeating.

  Esras lifts a knowing eyebrow, as if he can see right through me. “Your friend is right. Vintain is the High Mage.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The High Mage controls the realm’s magic. It’s been that way for hundreds of years. Ever since the Winter Court took the magic for themselves.”

  My heart starts hammering and I want to know more. Way more. But at the same time I don’t want Esras to think that, after everything he’s done, I’m just pumping him for information. I try to keep my voice casual. “And Queen Abarrane. Does your family know her too?”

  Esras glances at the floor, as if he’d rather not admit it. “We’re nobles, my father a duke and my mother a duchess. Both of my parents have roles within the Royal Court. Roles I’m not particularly proud of. I wish it were another way, but it’s just the truth.”

  I know so little about how royal courts once functioned in my own realm, and I know nothing about how they work in Faerie. But if Esras’s parents are part of that court, aren’t there expectations that he will be too? It seems clear that he has no intention of participating. But, again, how well do I understand this world I’ve stepped into?

  I can’t help but dig further. “What’s she like?”

  “Dangerous,” Esras says. “She’s been in power for a very long time, and she’s used to it. But that power can’t last forever. She’s well aware that time is running out, in more ways than one. Queen Abarrane is getting old, even for a fae.”

  His eyes meet mine long enough to make his point. Humans don’t live long. Compared to the fae, we have the lifespans of mayflies.

  “So, what does she plan to do?” Even as I ask the question, I fear I know the answer. I reach for my wine again, this time to beat back my nerves.

  “Secure a new source of magical power, using her High Mage to find it for her. One that won’t run out this time.”

  I shake my head. “Why? I mean, what’s in it for them? Aren’t they well off enough, or whatever it means to be rich in this realm? Why would they continue to do what they’re doing?”

  I gesture to the wall, meaning the scene we witnessed outside. The brutalization of the Unseelie people, the violence and the terror. And, of course, the potential for destroying the entire realm itself. Isn’t it obvious that the place is shaking apart?

  “Life,” Esras says. “Immortality. Their forebears had that in your realm, and they want it back. Until then, Vintain will keep monopolizing the magic here to keep them alive.”

  In that moment, it all locks into place. Vintain is who I’m up against, and he always has been. And what he’s been doing might also explain something I’ve wondered about since learning I’m a veil witch. Namely, what happened to all the others. Autumn told me it was because our kind faded over time, when people stopped believing in monsters. That we were no longer felt to be needed in our realm. But what if it’s not that simple? What if we’ve been hunted to extinction in the search for one magical key?

  “I need more wine,” I say.

  Esras fills my mug again. “Are you okay?”

  My expression must betray the revelation I just experienced. Am I wrong? Possibly, but my gut tells me otherwise.

  “I’m okay,” I say.

  Which is a total lie. I’m completely freaked out.

  But this one I’m keeping to myself. There’s no one else I’m discussing it with but Autumn. How Vintain hasn’t yet found her, I can’t imagine. The only thing I can think is that he’s been limited by his own magic. In our realm, he was spying through a changeling called Grayson, the real Grayson having been held captive in Faerie. And that changeling heard about me somehow through Grimoire, but not my sister. Pure luck, but how long will that luck hold? Isn’t it only a matter of time before Vintain discovers that there’s another veil witch?

  Esras watches me, not saying anything as I think things through. It takes me a few moments even to remember where I am. But for now, there’s nothing to be done about what I just realized. I bring my gaze back to his.

  Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe I’m just worn out, but I need to understand what I’m dealing with. My fate is one thing, my sister’s another.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  He doesn’t look away. “Because I swore an oath.”

  “To who?”

  “To my sister.”

  “Fashenan?”

  Esras’s eyes widen. “How do you know her name?”

  I consider telling him that I’ve seen her ghost, that she led me toward something she very much wanted me to see. I decide I should probably keep that to myself for now.

  I keep it simple. “I know what happened,” I say.

  How I learned that, Esras doesn’t ask. He must assume I found out through either Helen or Lily, but I guess he decides it doesn’t matter.

  He nods, and then continues. “That’s when everything changed for me. When Fashenan died, I started questioning everything. Who we were. What we valued. What mattered, what didn’t, and what was acceptable. I decided that her death wouldn’t be in vain, and that it was up to me to see her purpose through. That I’d act in her name when the time came.”

  “And do you believe the time is now?” I say.

  “I do. I’m sure of it.”

  “Why were you there tonight?” Despite the fact that he very well might have saved my life, I still need to know how he found me again.

  Esras doesn’t hesitate. “I was following those men. Yes, with the intention of putting an end to them. I plan to do the same for the rest of their kind. However, the timing was… fortunate.”

  Yeah, no kidding, and relief washes over me at his words. Instinctively, I know he’s telling the truth.

  When I remain silent, Esras says, “Did you suspect something other than coincidence?”

  His gaze remains on mine, open and steady. There’s no resentment in his voice. Just curiosity.

  “I wasn’t sure what to think. I mean, when you just showed up like that.”

  Esras nods. “It’s totally understandable that you’d have your guard up. You’ve been through a lot. More than most people would likely survive.”

  I sip my wine, thinking about what he said. He’s right, somehow I have managed to survive so much more than I ever could have imagined. In fact, most of the things I’ve survived are also things I couldn’t have imagined. But I have to survive this too if I’m going to save Julia.

  As we continue sitting together without speaking, I realize it’s grown quiet outside. The echoes of violence have faded away. I also realize that I too am starting to fade. So much has happened tonight. It feels like a lifetime of events have taken place within just the past few hours.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Esras says, “You should get some rest.”

 
; He moves to get up, but I place my hand on his leg. “What about you?”

  He nods toward the chairs across from us. “I’ll be fine resting right there. Please don’t worry about me.”

  Without thinking about it, I draw him toward me. I know that if I think about it, I’ll stop. My pulse escalates as I raise my lips to his, wondering if I’ll be accepted, and if he feels the same way.

  Esras closes his eyes and leans in toward me. His lips, soft and full, brush mine gently at first, but the kiss soon grows more urgent. I part my lips and his tongue dances with my own. When a moment ago, I felt myself fading, suddenly I’m on fire. Heat ripples through every fiber of my body, building and spreading fast. My heart pounds within my chest, and I let out a moan as Esras’s kisses travel to the underside of my chin and then my neck. He keeps going lower, and I arch my back, the urge to thrust nearly impossible to resist. I want his hands inside my shirt. I want to peel off his clothes while he does the same to me.

  But then, as if knowing what I truly need, Esras brings his lips to mine again. He kisses me softly once more, and then draws away. He keeps his arms around me, holding on as my heartbeat starts to slow. Gently, he trails his fingers through my hair. Little by little, I start falling into a lull. Part of me wonders if it’s magic, while part of me suspects I’m just exhausted. And that Esras knows this just isn’t the time. We’ve been through too much. Finally, he eases us down to where we lay side by side.

  He speaks softly. “Sleep, Cassie. Let yourself sleep.”

  He keeps his arms wrapped around me and I feel myself once again starting to fade. Finally, I surrender to sleep, as Esras holds me in his arms.

  CHAPTER 10

  I'm in my old house, the one I knew as a child, and it’s early morning as I make my way downstairs. I cross through the empty living room, rubbing my eyes and thinking how strange the light is today. It flickers at the windows, casting an orange glow across the wall. In the kitchen, I look up to where my mother stands at the counter. She has her back to me. She's thin, wearing a dress she used to wear long ago. Her dark hair still flows to her shoulders, not yet streaked with gray. Music plays from the radio she keeps in there, pop rock from when she was a girl. She doesn't turn from where she's preparing breakfast, but she must have heard me come in. Or maybe she just senses me behind her.