Chapter 9
Fairies of the Alder
Alina bit her lip to stop from crying as Lysandros jostled her while sprinting through the secret passage. She pressed hard with both hands on the wound in her abdomen to staunch the bleeding. This was no time to be vain, but she felt self-conscious of her disheveled appearance. Her silver shirt was torn and bloody from her fight. She was angry with her husband for ordering the guards to take her away. If he had not given the order, that guard would not have stabbed her.
A kind and tender woman, being angry with her husband sickened Alina. A knot had grown in her stomach since she left the throne room. She feared that she might never again see her husband and home.
“Hold on, Your Highness. I’m trying to get out of this mess, but there’s no light.” Lysandros tried to sound reassuring, but the dark and damp hallway that smelled like rotting sewage did little to encourage him.
Crack!
A noise like a whip echoed through the passage. Suddenly, the torches along the grey wall lit up their path. Lysandros looked down at Alina with the firelight flickering in her hazel eyes. He never noticed the flecks of gold shining brightly back at him. He expected to see her pale and cringing in pain, but instead she was smiling…no, she was laughing at him. Lysandros stood in awe of the queen. Even after being stabbed and torn from her home, she kept her humor.
“Was that you?” Lysandros asked with a crooked smile.
“Who else are you expecting?”
He breathed a small laugh at her smart remark. “I see you still have your powers, Majesty,” Lysandros said continuing his descent through the hallway.
Alina rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you to address me by my name?”
“I do not know to what you are referring,” Lysandros smirked.
Alina winced. “Don’t make me laugh, Lys. Although, if I’m going to die, it may as well be because I laughed my way to death.”
“Alright, no more jokes. I’ll be as serious as the Athenian Plague.”
“Promises, promises.” Alina pressed her head deeper in Lysandros’ chest to hide her smile.
“While we are being serious, my Quee…” Lysandros caught himself, “Alina, how much of your powers do you still have?”
“Enough to get us to where we need to go. My powers have been leaving me since I was stabbed. I can call for a ride to get us to the Forest of Slàinte. Just get me outside the confines of the palace.”
“Almost there.”
Lysandros quickened his pace and held Alina tighter so as not to put her in more pain. Anyone outside the royal family and the o’Conaills who attempted to escape in the tunnels would be lost for days. However, since Lysandros built the tunnels with Remus he knew them better than most, although he could not help but think Alina magically influenced his direction.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour since their escape, they reached the outer door of the palace. Lysandros kicked the door, busting it off its hinges, and then jogged to the protective cover of the trees.
As he carried Alina past the first tree, he heard rustling of leaves and the sound of branches breaking. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the trees move together and create a wall that shielded them from attackers.
“You shouldn’t fear nature, least not while you are with me,” Alina responded to Lysandros’ wide-eyed, frightened look. “Quickly, prop me up against the nearest tree.”
Lysandros placed her in between two large tree roots protruding from the moss-covered ground. He stepped away, surveying the damage done by the sword. The wound in the middle of her abdomen still profusely bled.
“Lysandros, fetch me those roots over there, the brown and green ones. Then next to them, under the Ivy there should be small purple flowers. Pick the petals,” Alina said pointing to all the ingredients.
Alina pulled her dagger from her boot and dug at the side of the tree. When Lysandros returned, she made a small mixing bowl from the tree’s bark. She pointed to a small brook on her right, a brook Lysandros could have sworn was not there when they arrived.
“Lys, fill the bowl a quarter of the way up and then place the petals and roots in the water.”
As he filled the bowl, the water sparkled. However, no light could shine through the trees’ thick canopies. By the time he returned, the ingredients were a mushy lump of browns and purples. He handed her the makeshift bowl and stood back, unsure of what Alina was about to do.
Laughing at Lysandros’ weariness of her magic, Alina took her knife and mashed the ingredients into a fine paste. She then cut a long thick strip of her shirt and handed it to Lysandros.
“Will you hand me that moss? Careful not to crush the ends,” Alina instructed.
Lysandros went to fetch the moss. When he returned, he watched Alina intently as she smeared the paste over her wound. He had never seen an herbal remedy of this nature. She then pressed a clump of moss deep into the paste-covered slit in her stomach. She winced at the pain, which made Lysandros wince sympathetically.
Alina sat up, beckoning Lysandros with the strip of cloth. “I need you to wrap this as tightly as you can around my waist. The paste and pressure should help control the bleeding.”
“Will it heal you?” Lysandros asked as he wrapped her stomach.
“No, not completely.” She lifted her arm for Lysandros to help her up.
Lysandros swung her arm around his neck and grasped her waist. With his free hand, he moved her strawberry-blonde hair away her eyes. She smiled back at him, making him blush. He always knew she was beautiful, but he had never been this close or alone with the Queen.
“Alright, what now?” Lysandros asked with a touch of airiness in his voice.
A cunning smile appeared on Alina’s face. Lysandros knew that look. It was an adventurous look most people did not want to see from her.
“I’m not going to enjoy this, am I?” Lysandros said.
Alina chuckled and snapped her fingers again. Mist billowed around the large tree trunks and engulfed them. Trotting towards the pair was a large white stallion with jet-black hair. She held out her arm towards the steed. He nestled against her hand then nudged Lysandros’ shoulder in approval.
“How do you have all these powers? I thought your powers were stripped once you married Remus?”
Alina laughed again. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, Lysandros. It is true that some of my powers have dissipated over time, but the Gàidheal council could not strip the powers of my bloodline. This is Whisper. He is a Pwca, an animal spirit that guards my bloodline.”
Whisper reared in impatience.
Alina sighed, “I know, I know. We must hurry. We have to get to the Forest of Slàinte.”
Whisper lay down so Lysandros could help Alina onto his back. Lysandros then climbed behind her so she would not fall during their journey. Alina traced a U shape around Whisper’s neck and silver reins appeared long enough for Lysandros to grasp. He created a circular wall of reins and arms around the injured queen.
Alina entwined her fingers in Whisper’s black hair and patted the horse, signaling Whisper to take off. The horse stood in a smooth, effortless motion and then pawed at the ground. Alina leaned back into Lysandros, allowing his body to support hers. His muscles tensed, trying to be strong for her.
Before Lysandros knew it, they were moving at a pace so fast that they could not make out the scenery around them. It was a beautiful blur of greens, blues, browns, and purples. He heard laughter in the distance but could not place its origin. He then felt Alina’s shoulders jostle against his chest and realized it was Alina’s laugh. The queen was enjoying herself as if all her pain had disappeared.
They came to a halt five minutes into their journey. It was a smooth transition from sprinting to walking through a forest of Apple and Alder trees. Large, golden apples hung from the branches. The canopy of the Alder trees sparkled with white and red lights. The colors of green f
oliage, gold apples, and twinkling red and white lights should have clashed, but somehow they created a peaceful atmosphere. Being a political man in charge of keeping peace during Remus’ reign, Lysandros usually had a way with words. However, admiring his surroundings, he was speechless.
Lysandros jumped down to help Alina dismount. She inhaled sharply, wincing at Lysandros’ touch. The rag around her waist was soaked in fresh blood. Her remedy was not taking effect. Seeing the Queen in so much pain twisted a knot in Lysandros’ stomach. He needed to protect her, to save her.
Once on the ground, Alina flicked her wrist and a carrot appeared in her hand for Whisper. She rubbed the soft area of his nose and the reins disintegrated as he gnawed on his treat. Whisper’s ears perked up and he turned his head back towards the Etruscan palace at Aventine Hill.
“Go, you have to protect her,” Alina rubbed Whisper’s soft nose.
Whisper whinnied and then took off. Alina tried to look up towards the tree’s canopies when a stabbing pain shot through her body. She collapsed, short of breath, but Lysandros was there to catch her.
“Well, aren’t you my hero today?” Alina smirked at the distraught soldier holding her up.
“I am whatever you need me to be, Alina.” Lysandros propped Alina up against the trunk of the Alder tree and surveyed its canopy, “What are those lights?”
“Those are the Fairies of the Alder.” Alina said before she whispered in her native tongue, “Ó na fréamhacha thíos go dtí na duilleoga ar barr, a ligean am mall a nochtadh ar barr Fearnóg.”
As soon as she finished, time slowed down around them. A deer in the background gracefully pawed at the dirt and leaves moved at a turtles pace. Their environment was a slow motion scene where every fleck of dirt could be seen flying in the wind. Even the air seemed to leisurely roll by them.
“Please do explain why you slowed time.” Lysandros was always apprehensive about magic.
“Why are you worried? A spell so easily cast is easily broken. And they are why I slowed time,” said Alina, pointing up at the Alder’s branches.
“What in the name of Zeus have you done?” Lysandros, born and bred to be a stoic Greek warrior, was not a man easily shocked. However, what he witnessed was enough to scare anyone. Instead of the white and red sparkling lights, there were white and red miniature people flying in and out of the tree limbs, lounging on the thick curved leaves, and eating the red berries off the branches.
The females wore white strapless dresses that fell just shy of their knees. White wings adorned with red flecks that sparkled like rubies in the sunlight fluttered behind them. They had crimson skin darkened by pale white hair of different lengths. The males dressed in red and had dark red wings. Their jet-black hair contrasted their light silver skin. Both sexes had charcoal grey irises that stood out against the whites of their eyes.
“I merely slowed down time so you are able to see the fairies that live in the Alders. They are the guardians of this forest…” Alina explained. “Do you see those golden apples? They are the apples from your Greek myths, the golden apples of the gods. They can grant…”
“Immortality or heal any ailment. Which means you can completely recover from your wound,” Lysandros finished her sentence, excited about the prospect.
Alina smiled at the interruption. “Yes, one of the apples can save me, but...”
“I’ll go pick one!”
Before Alina could finish her story, Lysandros ran to pick the fruit.
A loud whap, followed by a crunching noise, resulted from Lysandros’ brave attempt. He had run into a shield charm that protected the tree. The shield bent inward at Lysandros’ momentum, then tossed him back halfway across the clearing into a pile of dead leaves.
Alina tried hard not to laugh, but when Lysandros emerged from the pile with his hair and clothes covered in dead foliage, she couldn’t help herself. She clutched at her wound to control her laughter.
“Sometimes I wonder if you are a wise adult or a reckless child,” Alina shook her head at Lysandros’ appearance. “If you had let me finish, you would have understood. Since the labor of Herakles, Demeter placed a barrier around the tree so that no man can enter to pick its fruit.”
“Hold on. Demeter is a Greek goddess and the fairies are Celtic. You are telling me the religions of the world overlap?”
Alina paused briefly to gather her thoughts. She wanted to phrase her explanation so Lysandros could easily understand the religious connections.
Realizing it would be a long and complicated explanation, Lysandros shook his head and pursed his lips together. “Never mind. How do you propose we get the fruit?” Lysandros asked impatiently.
“The Fairies of the Alder of course.”
“Ah, yes. Of course.” Lysandros said sarcastically as he brushed off the foliage that clung to his clothes. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Ha-ha, no need for sarcasm. The fairies are the reason behind the forest’s name. Slàinte translates from my language to mean health; it is the Forest of Health. The fairies are the only ones who can penetrate the barrier and retrieve the apples. However, they must deem you worthy of their help. They will not heal the ordinary.” Alina looked worried as she watched the fairies flying through the Alder canopies.
“Oh, lovely. I have heard stories of Celtic fairies. They are no friends of humans.”
“Yes, that is partly true, but as I have told you before, don’t believe everything you hear. I am a member of an ancient bloodline, that makes me different from others. Not to mention that we are not exactly human, are we? They will take my bloodline into consideration as they judge me,” said Alina.
As if on cue, a crimson female and a silver male flew down to greet them.
The female spoke authoritatively first, “Queen of Half and Guardian of The Power, why have you entered our domain?”
“Guardian of the wha...” Lysandros started but Alina shushed him.
“Ah, the old one does not know his true destiny,” the male fairy flew closer to Lysandros to examine him while speaking to the female. “We are at the beginning, sister.”
“Well then, we shall not waste any more time,” the female responded, then flew off to the Apple tree. She penetrated the barrier, which sent a ripple through the invisible shield as she entered with ease.
The male hovered over Alina and came to rest on her stomach. He lifted the makeshift bandage wrapped around her waist and called out to his sister. “Boadicea, grab more than our usual portion, there is poison in her wound.” He turned back to Alina and introduced himself, “Hello, Queen Alina. My name is Coyle, King of the Fairies in the Forest of Slàinte. That is my stubborn sister, Boadicea, Queen of the Fairies.”
Boadicea returned with a pouch of several slices of apple. “Watch who you call stubborn, Coyle.” She gave her brother a dirty look as she emptied the pouch on Alina’s stomach.
Alina was eternally grateful and bowed her head. “I am in your debt.”
Coyle walked up the Queen’s chest and fed her the apple slices. “Not at all, Queen Alina, you are the Queen of Half. My people have sworn to protect The Power at any cost. Then there is also your lineage, of course.”
Boadicea cut away the bandage and scraped out Alina’s herbal paste. Alina winced as the fairy’s knife dug into her wound. Lysandros grabbed Alina’s hand to comfort her.
Boadicea bit her lip sympathetically as she worked. “I am sorry for your discomfort, Your Majesty. I am going as quickly as I can. Your remedy worked to stave off the poison, but it did not cure it. You arrived just in time before the Visa took hold of you.”
“The what?” Lysandros asked.
Boadicea stared up at Lysandros in disapproval of his ignorance, then turned her attention back to Alina. “The Visa,” she said, squeezing the apple slice so its juice flowed into Alina’s wound. “The gods of the East have named this type of poison Visa. It is written in scripture as this…” She then flew down to the ground whe
re she took her dagger and drew a picture. The picture was Sanskrit, विष.
Alina chuckled at Lysandros’ befuddled look. “Here, allow me.”
Still smiling, she drew out how it should be pronounced. “W-i-su…pronounce the ‘I’ as you would in ‘bit’ and then pronounce the ‘U’ as you would in ‘but’.”
While Alina explained the poison to Lysandros, Coyle walked down to Alina’s wound and rubbed the final apple slice around the edges of her shirt. Boadicea flew around Lysandros’ body, pouring whatever was left of the apple into his cuts despite his protests to give all the juice to Alina.
When the fairy siblings were done, Alina and Lysandros were healed and their shirts mended.
Boadicea flew close to Lysandros’ face and put her dagger away. “Listen to me now, Guardian,” she used air quotes when saying his title, “the only reason we have helped you today is because of Alina’s bloodline and because you are needed for The Queen. We pledge ourselves to you as long as you hold your title and do not betray your birthright.”
Coyle hovered next to his sister. “By law, young one, we should not have healed you at all. You disrespected the laws of the forest when attempting to gain the fruit of the gods.” Coyle smirked and buzzed around his sister in a playful motion. “It is lucky for you, Guardian, that we make the laws here.”
Boadicea grabbed the back of Coyle’s collar, yanking him back beside her. He folded in half by her sudden grasp. She laughed quietly to herself as Coyle regained his composure. She smoothed her face once he rose to hover next her again.
“Enough, Brother. You are a king, not a commoner.”
“Never forget, we fairies are a vengeful race, Boadicea.”
“Anyways, you must be leaving. The deed is done and the forest can do no more,” ordered Boadicea.
Boadicea and Coyle waved their arms towards the far end of the forest. The trees separated revealing an exit.
Coyle bowed to Alina and said, “We must part now, but be so kind to remove the spell upon our people.”
Alina smiled gratefully at her mythical healers. “I fear we will never meet again. However, my blood will live on. Be kind to keep a weathered eye on its future.” Alina raised her hand and the spell was broken with a snap of her fingers. The fairies returned to a blur of white and red lights.
Lysandros cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. “What did they mean by The Queen? Was Brian right all those years ago? And what is this Guardian business?”
“There will be plenty of time for answers, but now there is no time for questions. We must leave,” Alina said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Lysandros sighed then rubbed his hands together anxiously. “Well, Alina, where are we going and how are we getting there?”
Alina twined her arm through Lysandros’ as they headed through the exit. “You leave that to me.”
Lysandros sighed and shook his head. “You’re smirking again. Traveling with you is going to be an adventure, isn’t it?”
“Oh you have no idea, my friend,” Alina laughed heartily, her curly strawberry-blonde hair bouncing off her shoulders.
Once through the forest’s exit, the trees closed behind them. Alina bent down, grabbed a handful of dirt, and blew it into the air. Once the wind took the dirt, she called out, “Dubh Draíochta! Tintreach Bán!” Two giant horses cantered out from where the dirt spun in the wind. One of them was midnight black and the other pure white; neither had a single flaw on their body.
Alina gently patted Lysandros’ back while pointing at the two horses. “Take your pick, Lys.”
The black horse trotted up to Lysandros and nibbled at his collar. “I think he chose for me. Black Magic and White Lightning, correct?”
“You remember Gaelic,” Alina beamed at Lysandros.
Lysandros raised an eyebrow in an ‘of course I do’ manner.
“Alright, we have the transportation. Now we need a destination,” Lysandros said while climbing on Black Magic’s back.
Alina climbed up on her horse, White Lightning, with another mischievous smile. “The horses know where to go.”
After they were mounted, long silver reins appeared in their hands, cool and smooth to the touch. The reins coiled around their wrists to keep them steady. Alina winked at Lysandros, kicked the side of White Lightning, and took off towards the horizon. Lysandros could not believe how fast they sped off, faster than any other horse, except Whisper.
He bent down to Black Magic’s ear and asked, “Can you keep up, boy?” With no signal, Black Magic took off. In less than a minute, they caught up with Alina.
Lysandros thought to himself, Black Magic is such a long name for a horse. Maybe I’ll shorten it to just Magic.
Yep, sounds great! a male voice spoke in elation.
Much simpler, Lysandros thought in reply to the voice. “Wait, who said that?”
Lysandros looked around him in alarm, but there was no one around except Alina, and it was surely a male voice.
“Alina are you putting voices in my head?”
“No, silly. The horse is,” said Alina gesturing to Magic.
“What?” Lysandros gave Alina an ‘I can’t believe you just said that’ expression.
It’s me, Magic! You know, the black thing you are riding. Hold on, Lightning and I are racing. Don’t fall off now, you’ll make me lose!
“What in Tartarus have I gotten myself intoooo…?” The last word trailed off into the distance as the horses bounded effortlessly through open terrain.
The Phoinix: Age of Demigods Page 21
