Falling Into Faerie After

by Mercedes Jade

  “Evie-baby, come, hold our hands. We’re scared,” Matthew’s childhood voice said.

  Kheelan nearly crushed my shoulders but he needn't worry. I knew the sound of my brother's voice, but better yet, I knew my brothers. The twins didn't want me to save them. They came here to protect me.

  The monster that was not my brother laughed and it was so beautiful, so perfectly like the merriment of the twins when they pulled a morning prank on me or trapped me under their tickling fingers that I felt a tear slip down my cheek.

  Kheelan’s stormy eyes caught it. His gaze was back to blue-grey skies, turbulent with the potential to thunder, but then, the light seem to dim without a sound and Kheelan dropped to his knees.

  I followed him down, my fingers fixed to his chest with courage alone. My fear wanted me to go to the twins even though I knew it was a trick, and my anger wanted me to rip the mask off of the thing forcing Kheelan to his proud knees. I couldn't do anything but hold Kheelan’s heart inside of him and hope Loren kept my brothers safe from this nightmare.

  The pixies latched onto Kheelan were swollen and bloated, looking more like leeches with pink bellies almost glowing as they stretched. I felt disgust when they wiggled and brushed my fingers, sharp mouths unwilling to let go. The urge to brush them off was strong.

  “Take your stones and open the gate,” Loren said.

  He sounded angry and it wasn’t a tone I was used to hearing from him. Loren had volunteered to pay the bloodstone price as well. His sacrifice was no less for being refused. In fact, it was likely a greater suffering to watch what had happened to Kheelan and to not even be able to hold him through it like I had. Loren was a healer. It must be torture the stand there and see his friend bleed for all of us.

  “You are weaker than you look. They aren’t fully fed,” the thing said, dropping his boy voice for the one of razors since I hadn’t been fooled. A skeleton hand reached between Kheelan and myself, twig fingers digging into the bloated body of a pixie and scraping it off of Kheelan’s chest to land with a plunk into the chalice I had been offered.

  I looked down and saw the clear water turn blood red and thick, syrupy contents weighing down the pixie wings like tar. He was drowning, making mewling sounds like a helpless kitten. I didn’t even want to touch the parasitic things but hearing their cries brought pity.

  The twig fingers reached for the next and carelessly plucked it, fingers rubbing together like branches in the wind every time they touched and released a pixie, as if brushing off sticky burrs after picking brambles.

  Streaks of blood ran down Kheelan’s chest when each pixie was removed, the wounds not clotting close. Kheelan barely gave his chest a glance, removing his hand from my shoulders and giving me an order to let go him as well.

  “On your feet, Mistress,” Kheelan told me.

  My brothers grasped me at the elbows and pulled me up. The thing with its chalice full of drowning, bloated pixies was almost touching Jackson. Instinct told me not to let that happen.

  I took a step back into the arms of my brothers and they went with me. Taking another, I was able to breathe easier. The icy magic of Kheelan’s power was still frozen in my chest. I don't know why no one else had mentioned my theft. Surely I was glowing or something else to give away that I was brimming with stolen magic.

  Loren’s eyes met mine. He knew.

  Perhaps the pixies also knew my secret, but they were hiding in their home and the ones drowning in the chalice were unlikely to warn the thing that plucked them with such malicious intent. He was almost done, eyeing the last pixie. It wasn’t fat with blood like the rest, the last to latch with Kheelan dropping to his knees when it began to feed. The thing reached for it with a disgusted sigh.

  Loren coughed, loudly.

  Pulling its fang from its hip belt, the tiny pixie sank it deep into the twig finger as the thing was distracted, pricking blood like a rose thorn before the flower could be plucked.

  The thing howled and drew his stick hand back.

  Kheelan cupped his hand over the pixie still attached to him, blocking it from sight except for the tiny jewels of its eyes, sapphires that winked. I couldn’t see the expression on the pixie, but those eyes were cutting.

  “Your stone bled you,” Kheelan said.

  “Bah. The power that one drank is barely a thimble. You won’t get your strength back by spending it,” the thing said.

  “Nonetheless, this one is mine to do with as I please,” Kheelan spoke quietly. He gave me a measured look. “Keep him hidden and feed him a drop of your blood each night and you may be rewarded, Mistress,” Kheelan said.

  It was a small, parasitic Fae but it still resembled a person in a way and I didn’t feel right accepting him. The alternative, to leave the pixie to his brethren’s fate in the chalice of that thing was worse. I nodded my acceptance.

  Loren grabbed Kheelan under his arms and hauled him to his feet. It was good that Loren was such a bear, else he may have lost the battle against gravity. Kheelan looked literally drained, pale skin so faded and dull except for the tiny bleeding cuts. His healthy glow was gone. I wanted to rush forward and offer him back the magic freezing my heart.

  “Come, take your blooded pixie, Mistress,” Kheelan said. The little Fae was still latched to his chest, although it was obvious that he no longer fed.

  I walked forward with my brothers in tow.

  “Nip your finger and offer him a taste freely,” Kheelan told me. “Ask him to tell you his name.”

  Matthew released one of my hands, gripping my elbow instead so he could pull me away from danger in an instant. I appreciated the support, eying the tiny Fae I was now responsible for with trepidation. The hungry swarm had scared me almost as much as the horrible thing still watching us.

  Trusting in Kheelan, I nipped my finger and did as he asked. I couldn’t speak out loud because I was supposed to be mute, but I mouthed my question, leaning close enough so the pixie could see my lips. The pixie let go of Kheelan and dipped his hands into the blood beaded on my finger tip, carrying it up to his face and sniffing before he drank it down.

  Derrik.

  The pixie bared a mouthful of sharp teeth and hopped onto my head. I suppressed any thought of swiping at the unexpected passenger and wondered if that really had been his voice in my head.

  Of course it was, Nightling. You haven’t even the slightest shield around your mind. Quiet your thoughts and I will use some of this borrowed magic to create a basic defence. You shouldn’t walk so naked around the gatekeeper. He will dig into your memories for ways to trick you.

  Holy crap. The pixie was in my head. Well, not actually inside me, which would be disgusting, but the little critter that was making what felt like a nest in my hair was as good at mind reading as Orin. I hoped Derrik didn’t think himself a god, too.

  A god of what?

  Useless stuff.

  A little laugh tinkled out loud. It was like I had a tiny bell attached to my hair and it rang as I moved.

  Derrik’s merriment was cut short.

  “This was an unfair bargain,” the thing complained. “I had to give up one stone for blooding and it will cost me another to open the gate.”

  “You have ten full stones,” Loren reminded him. “Even one is too many to serve the purpose of camouflaging the wickedness in this town. Since when do the Darker arts have a place in Aerien?”

  “King Selvyth has been inspecting towns, searching for something ever since the night the Blood Prince fouled the lagoon. These pixies are slaves just like your human pets and well worth the price to keep our necks from the chopping block.”

  Giving all of us one last annoyed look, the thing that looked like a perfect cherub again hobbled over to the fountain with the gait of an eighty year-old and dumped the chalice of drowning pixies into the open roof of one of the fountain’s linked houses. They came tumbling out, flopping with life weakly.

  The voice in my head stayed silent. I wonder if Derrik didn't want to see
his imprisoned friends and the fate he had barely escaped.

  Close your eyes.

  I didn't dare obey Derrik. It wasn’t safe. I didn't know if I could even close my eyes to sleep tonight, likely to be plagued with nightmares.

  “Jeralina,” sang the sweet boy’s voice.

  A tiny pixie half the size of Derrik peeked out of a window, the flash of purple wings behind her. She had a light glow, muted compared to most of her companions. The boy reached out a hand and his fingers grew unnaturally long and knotty and kept growing no matter how the tiny pixie screamed and squirmed, frozen in place with nothing but her name.

  Now, I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut like Derrik had suggested. There was no need for me to watch as those Pinocchio fingers pierced Jeralina like a bloody kebab but I couldn't tear away my horrified gaze.

  The blood from the mortal wound drew up the stick of the boy's fingers as Jeralina collapsed dead. The twig shrunk back into a real hand and Jeralina’s slumped body turned into a speckled white stone. The boy tiptoed himself up to the birdhouse and plucked the stone out, throwing it at the path. It hit and skipped until it settled, one upon thousands lining the way to the inn at the center of town.

  “Best hurry before the magic fails. Such a tiny stone is all you'll get from me,” the boy said.

  My brothers dragged me forward to walk on the stones. I hated it. If Kheelan had warned me ahead of time, I would have refused to come here no matter the importance. He and Loren couldn’t have known. They had acted surprised and forced us to arm just before the fountain, although they seemed familiar enough with bloodstones and poisonous refreshments. How could we trade one life, no matter how small or insignificant to others, in order to accomplish our means?

  It made me deeply question why I was even here. I was seeking my father, who had turned his back on my mother and her mortal concerns. Would cruel Fae such as these even care? Perhaps my mother was lucky to have even escaped with her own life.

  Your father is not a twig from that twisted tree. I know all the branches. Doubt and worry are symptoms of the poisoning. Did you sip from the chalice?

  I hadn’t drank, right? I shook my head, feeling confused.

  “Ev-Mistress? Are you alright?” Jackson asked, giving my hand a squeeze.

  “Stop Kh-servant,” Matthew said. We were only about a foot from the inn entrance.

  The twins were usually too quick-tongued to stumble over anything, even our hasty identities. They must be as shaken as I was by the boy and his pixies.

  I shook my head again, not able to say anything to them. I felt dizzy and overheated. A drink was exactly what I needed. The thirst I had felt earlier was back with a vengeance.

  “This is not a place to rest. Just a little further inside, Mistress,” Kheelan said. “There is already another at the gate and we do not want to be here if the bargaining goes poorly.”

  “The foul mood we left the gatekeeper in will cost the next visitor dearly,” Loren said. “That greed will rebound back to him, playing with Dark forces he doesn’t understand.”

  Your servants are right. We must hurry away.

  I stepped forward, stumbling weakly, but there wasn’t much distance to cover. They had to have a chair or bench inside that I could sit upon while Kheelan arranged a room, although he wasn’t doing much better than me, still leaning upon Loren to walk.

  “I don’t like this,” Jackson whispered beside me.

  I gave his hand a squeeze. Total agreement but I didn’t see any way to avoid entering the inn now that we were here. It was kind of like regretting getting on a roller coaster once it climbed the first hill. Too late to do anything but hold on tight for the ride.

  I should have closed my eyes.

  Chapter 15:

  Once we entered the inn I barely got a moment to glance around, noting it was quite simple. A single, large room was broken up only by a bar and a door behind it that probably led to the kitchens. There was a set of stairs in the center that must lead to the inn’s rooms on the second floor. I didn't see anywhere to check in, although clearly there were servers as the stools at the bar and the benches at the tables were packed with noisy patrons drinking down the wares.

  Kheelan’s body blocked the rest of my view as he turned around and grabbed onto my shoulders. It was a good thing the twins were still holding on to either side of me because he was giving me more of his weight than I might have been able to hold up on my own. Normally, my Fae side was stronger but right now I was feeling as weak as the kitten Loren called me.

  “Ask your pixie if he can transfer back some of my essence so I can keep above the table for this meeting,” Kheelan said.

  I was feeling haggard myself, but I doubted Kheelan’s magic was going to help me any. It wasn't as if I knew how to use it. I nodded my agreement and waited for Derrik to let me know his response.

  Are you going to ask me?

  I felt silly about it. Derrik was buried in my hair close to my ear so he could hear anything I did and I'm sure he could even see Kheelan hovering over us. Why should I repeat the question?

  I am blood bonded to you and not him. He was really food, quite powerful but pixies obey the blood before all other power. You made the offering and I accepted. Ask what you want and do not rely on others to speak for you just because your voice is mute.

  Okay, I was going to think it really hard no matter how stupid it made me feel.

  —First of all, my voice is perfectly fine, but we’re incognito. Give Kheelan back the magic he pushed into my heart.—

  It felt a lot like arguing with myself in my head to talk to Derrik.

  Halfling, you do not even know what you're asking me to do. Why are you pretending to be mute?

  —That is none of your business. Can't you just read my mind to figure out what happened?—

  I couldn’t help that thought was bitter. I still felt resentful of Orin’s ability to invade my mind, although his choice to not read the thoughts of myself and my Marks had apparently led to some of the mess we all were in now.

  I cannot read your mind. Where do you get such nonsense from, Halfling? Some can read your memories but I can only speak telepathically to you when you feed our bond. If you don’t think it to me clearly, I won’t hear it.

  “Sir Pixie, I understand you are still getting to know your blood-bonded but she has prior Marks and a Claim that supercede your bond. Her Mark cannot offer his full protection without the essence she hid for him from the gatekeeper. The power was never intended for her to withstand more than a short time. Already, it may be straining her ability to hold such strength confined. She is not trained yet.”

  Loren had practically glued himself to my ear, no doubt speaking and looking at Derrik while he pleaded his case. I didn’t need any convincing. The strange weakness all over my body had to be from the power overload like Loren had pointed out. My heart certainly felt colder than ever, but it hurt. The only other time that happened was when my heart truly felt like it was breaking with each arrow I loosed.

  You are mumbling your thoughts. I told you to think clearly.

  My head was a mess. There was a headache radiating up from my neck, burning from stretching to look up at everyone standing so close to me and to hold up a fat, gluttonous pixie making a nest of my hair.

  I barely supped, which is how I escaped. I ignored the draw of such rich blood only to be punished with a bond to an ignorant Halfling. If I had known the vision was promising such mediocre escape, I may have decided to slumber longer in the house and wait for the next visitor.

  I reached up and plucked Derrik from my ear and placed him on my chest, over my heart. My dress bodice covered me up decently, but I figured he ought to be closest to the source of magic as reasonably possible to do this transference.

  —Give Kheelan his magic so I can go lie down. And if you want to go over to someone with such rich blood, feel free to hop a ride on his head instead when you’re done. He needs a little angel to whisper in his ear
. I don’t.—

  I am Dark Fae, not an angel.

  What? The killer butterflies seemed dark enough, but shouldn’t pixies be Light? All that brightness and we were in the Light kingdom.

  Pixies are Dark. Faries are Light. Your ignorance is worse than I thought.

  “Sir Pixie, I offer you my thumb. May your thorn be ever sharp,” Kheelan said, presenting his thumb to the tiny pixie on my chest.

  I couldn’t get that good of a look, still crowded by everyone on all sides and it hurt to move my neck to glance down. I got the impression of red hair and burgundy wings etched with bronze. They were almost transparent and so light I don't know how he managed to fly with them.

  Present me your smallest finger.

  Did he need to stab me, too? I swayed woozily. The thought of blood didn’t normally bother me. Right now, I felt like a complete wuss.

  “Go ahead and speak,” Kheelan whispered to me. “It’s loud enough here that none should notice it if we block your mouth from sight.”

  “Get this bloody deal over with,” I whispered, letting my head fall back on Loren’s chest. My brothers gripped me higher up under my arms to take more of my weight as I slumped.

  “What is wrong, kitten?”

  “Everything is wrong,” Matthew furiously whispered. “We are taking Eve home immediately after you get us out of this place. Our bargain is voided by the harm you let happen to her at the gate. You promised-”

  “You bargained with the Fae?” I interrupted, whispering faintly. Had that happened when Loren was making their collars and Kheelan distracted me on the hillside? I should be more upset about it, but pain distracted me. I shut my eyes against the candlelight. It was dim but already my headache was tremendous.

  Give me your finger. I already have to stab your Mark again for the wound is clotting. We will talk once you are lying down and a healer has looked you over. The poison might be too strong for a Halfling like you.