Faerie Rising: The First Book of Binding (The Books of Binding 1)

by A. E. Lowan

  The stone creature grabbed the blade and punched Brian hard enough to send him flying nearly to the staircase. He landed in the dirt with a cough, trying to remember how to breathe. He lay there for a moment, taking stock, expecting the once-familiar feeling of broken ribs. Maybe a punctured lung. But once he regained his wind he was… fine? He sat up, slightly dazed by the realization, and saw that Lana was on top of the creature, trying to stab its eyes. To no avail. It grabbed her and threw her against a wall, where she slid down into a still heap.

  Cian and Winter were still trapped behind the thing.

  Brian rolled onto his feet and charged the creature again, this time not bothering with the sword. He had to keep the creature off them. The creature bellowed and swung its fist at Brian, who dove inside its guard and punched it in its rocky face with all his strength.

  The creature staggered sideways.

  Brian blinked, startled, and looked down at his unblemished fist. It hadn’t even hurt that much.

  Cian darted out from behind the creature, pulling a now-standing Winter by her hand.

  “Break its neck!” Etienne was up on one elbow, blood streaming over half his face. “You’re a Hero. You can do it.”

  Was that what was happening? This Hero thing? Brian’s stomach churned at the thought of intentionally killing something, but he’d lived on the streets for years. It had taught him practicality. He pulled a rubber band from his pocket and tied his dreadlocks up out of his way into a thick tail. He could handle this. His mother and baby brother were upstairs and this thing would slaughter them if it got loose. If killing it was the only way-

  And then the thing charged him and took away his choices.

  Brian did all he could do in the limited space he had. He braced and caught the monster’s hands, his feet sliding backwards as he tried to gain a foothold on the hard-packed dirt floor. His legs pumped hard and his feet found purchase, and slowly the stone-covered creature was pushed back.

  “Good,” Etienne called over the creature’s grunts. “Now get up behind it and get a grip on its neck.”

  Brian grimaced, still pushing. How the hell was he supposed to do that? And then the creature put in added effort and he remembered Jessie’s judo classes. She talked about it as the art of using an opponent’s momentum against them.

  He could do that.

  Brian dropped to one knee and let go of one of the creature’s hands, sending its massive body tumbling over his head. He held on to the other arm and used it as a fulcrum to flip himself over the thing’s back, the rough stones tearing at his jeans, and scrambled along its spine to its misshapen head. “What now?”

  “Twist, like you’re twisting it off!”

  Brian wrapped his arms around its neck, locked his hand around his wrist, and twisted with all his might. The creature’s head turned, its hands scrabbling for purchase, trying to pry Brian loose. Brian dropped down low over one of its shoulders and twisted harder, the head turning impossibly far, until finally he felt a dull, resonant crack against his chest.

  The creature collapsed beneath him and lay still.

  “Oh my god…”

  Brian looked up to see Norah standing on the stairs, the blood drained from her face, staring at him and the creature beneath him. She must have been drawn by the bellowing. He heard Etienne mutter, “Merde.”

  Winter limped across the basement, a hand digging in her bag. “Norah, it’s all right.”

  Norah’s eyes were too wide. “What is that? What just happened?”

  Cian was helping Lana stand, her nose bleeding profusely.

  Winter pulled a small tube out of her bag just as she reached Norah’s side. “Nothing happened.” She blew a yellow, powdery substance right in his mother’s face.

  Norah sighed and her expression went slack.

  Brian jumped off the creature’s back. “What did you do?”

  Winter was looking closely at Norah, and nodded with satisfaction. “It’s called forgetting powder. It’s basically enspelled pollen. She won’t remember anything about this, or about an hour or two on either side.” She turned towards Brian. “It keeps her safe. We have to keep our world secret from humans behind the Veil of Secrecy, at all costs. There are those who would kill Norah or make her one of us simply for seeing what she did. This method is gentler.”

  Looking at Norah, Brian wasn’t so sure, but he’d trusted Winter for years. He made the choice to continue trusting her. “Can she take care of Justin like this?”

  “As soon as I release her, she’ll be fine.” Winter turned to Norah and her voice took on a strange resonance. “Norah, hear me. You heard a box fall over and Brian was already picking it up. There is nothing to worry about in the basement. Now go back to the storefront and go about your business. You will avoid the basement for the rest of the day.”

  Norah’s full attention was on Winter as she spoke and finally she nodded and turned around, leaving the basement.

  Brian watched his mother disappear up the stairs and sighed. He hoped Winter was right and that she would be okay.

  Behind him the creature let out a heavy breath.

  Brian spun, ready for another attack, but it remained still. “It’s alive!”

  Etienne snorted, mopping at his bleeding face with a bandana. “Of course it’s alive. It’s a stone ogre. Takes more than breaking its neck to kill it.”

  “Then why did you tell me to do it?”

  “Because it’s the fastest way to stop it and you were perfectly capable of it.”

  Brian nodded. Okay, that made a weird sort of sense. “Now what do we do with it?”

  Winter patted his shoulder as she limped past. “We banish it back to where it came from.” She was now holding a small, round, bright blue bottle in her hand, which she uncorked and upended on the ogre’s head. The ogre vanished in a cloud of stinking smoke.

  Brian coughed and fanned the smoke away, watching as Winter limped over to Etienne, whose head was still bleeding. The ogre had come through the gateway. Winter was going through it. “I’m going with you.”

  “No,” they said, again in unison.

  Lana’s brows shot up in alarm. “Would you two stop doing that? Fate wants him to go, haven’t you two idiots figured that out yet? We would have been crushed to jelly if not for Brian.”

  Etienne submitted to Winter dabbing some green gel stuff on his forehead, but flashed an obscene gesture at Lana.

  Winter gave Brian a glance over her shoulder as she worked. “Fine.” He could tell she was less than enthusiastic. “Come with Lana and I.”

  Etienne frowned. “I don’t want you going. It’s not safe.”

  Winter let him touch her on the arm – when had she started doing that? She’d been shrinking away from touch for months – and gave him a small smile. “Etienne, I don’t know what we have, here. But no matter where it’s going, you don’t get to tell me what to do.” She laid her hand over his, a gentle touch, and finished cleaning up the blood on his face.

  Brian looked at the frustrated faerie knight with curiosity. What was he to Winter? He watched Etienne pick up his sword from the dirt and clean it with the sleeve of his shirt before sliding it home in its scabbard, and then looked toward the gateway. "Do I need a sword, too?" he asked, thinking about the safety of the two women he would travel with.

  Etienne glanced up at him. "Do you know how to use one?"

  Brian shook his head. "No, but I can learn."

  One corner of Etienne's mouth twitched up. "Not in twenty minutes, you can't." Brian opened his mouth and Etienne raised a hand to quiet him. "I can teach you to kill someone in twenty minutes, but I can't teach you to defend yourself or them, which is what you're asking me. I'm not saying I won't teach you, just not today. Listen, boy. Where we are going, warriors have been perfecting the art of death for hundreds, if not thousands of years. A blade, or any weapon, immediately makes you a target. It marks you as ready to fight. The bigger you are, the bigger the target, and you're pretty
damn big as it is."

  Brian looked over to where Lana was holding still for Winter’s ministrations. "But how can I keep them safe?" he asked quietly.

  Etienne followed his gaze to Lana. "Her? Don't let that pretty face fool you. She's survived an Unseelie court for over two centuries. Granted, she had a patron, but so do most in the courts."

  Brian wasn't sure he was following all this, but he packed away his mental notes for further review. However, one word caught his attention. "Unseelie?"

  This time, Etienne's small smile was distinctly grim. "Unseelie is where the nightmares live."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Winter was content to let Etienne lead the way. They moved in utter darkness for what seemed to be mere minutes, the dirt beneath their feet giving way to unyielding and uneven stone and the tunnel walls to what felt like branches and leaves. Finally, a strange moon’s light broke through the gloom and they found themselves standing at a crossroads. All around were crowded night-dark trees, the only sign of the group’s passage the ravaged greenery the stone ogre must have left behind as it was drawn to the open Gate.

  “How long have we been walking?” Brian asked, looking around in confusion. Winter couldn’t blame him. It had only been early afternoon when they left.

  “Time flows differently in Faerie,” said Etienne. “And just because it’s night here doesn’t mean it will be night where we’re going.” He glanced at Lana and snorted under his breath. “Well, where Cian and I are going, anyway.”

  Lana gave Etienne a dirty look. “There is as much light among the Unseelie courts as among the Seelie.”

  “The Seelie don’t shun the light, unlike the Darkling Throng.”

  Lana flipped the faerie knight off.

  “If we’re done…” Winter gave the two fae a sardonic look and hitched her bag higher on her thin shoulder. Her hurt knee was making her cross and the bickering was getting old. “For the record, I don’t know if I’m Seelie or Unseelie.”

  “How?” Cian asked.

  “It was one of two conditions my mother demanded when my grandparents bound her to the Mortal Realm. If she could not take my father back to Faerie with her, then no one in my family could ask her about her lineage. That one’s pretty common. But it was broken when I was four. I think my father did it.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “He never spoke of it, and he grieved so much after she was gone – I think he blamed himself. I’m sure it was an innocent question, but that’s really all it takes, isn’t it?”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t the other condition that was broken?” Brian asked, curious.

  Winter shook her head and smiled. “No, that one would not have been possible.”

  “What was it?”

  “That any then present – and that day it was only my grandparents and my father in the garden when Tersa came to claim him – that any then present would not kill an innocent.” Lana opened her mouth but Winter cut her off, knowing she would only be argumentative. “Enough about me. Which way are we going?”

  Etienne took a good look at the forest paths presented to them. “It doesn’t really matter. You navigate Faerie by force of will.”

  Lana gave Winter a mildly hostile expression and then rolled her eyes. “Basically we each pick a path and we focus on where we want to go. The three of us to Ceallach’s court and those two to Anluan’s.”

  Brian peered down one of the paths. “The light doesn’t penetrate very far. How easy is it to get lost?”

  “Very,” Etienne said, looking at Winter. “It’s possible to wander the paths for a lifetime, to wander the borders between realms and never find what you’re looking for.”

  Winter nodded, brisk. “Then we’ll focus extra hard.” She was not about to let him frighten her back home.

  Etienne reached out and took her hand in his. His gray eyes softened. “Be careful,” he said in a low voice. “It’s dangerous out here and even more so in the courts.” He stepped in closer and murmured, “And I don’t trust Lana to keep you safe.”

  Winter gave his hand a squeeze. To be honest, neither did she. “You be careful, too.” As much as he worried about her, she wasn’t returning from exile to the court of the man who’d had her tortured and scarred. She then turned to Cian and returned his warm smile with one of her own. “And you. Both of you. Take care of each other and we’ll meet back up at Mulcahy House when we’re done.” Come back to me. The intensity of the thought caught Winter off guard. What was she going to do when this was all over and Etienne and Cian left?

  Assuming they all survived, of course.

  Etienne kissed her hand. “As my lady bids.” He pulled back slowly, sliding his fingers along hers, until they were finally parted. “We will find you an army.”

  Winter’s hand was cool in the sudden absence of his lips and her skin tingled. What would they feel like pressed warm against her own? She smiled and knew it was a bit of a silly smile.

  Etienne led Cian away down one of the paths and in a few short minutes they disappeared into darkness.

  “This way,” said Lana, her tone curt, and she led the way down another path, not looking back. Brian and Winter followed, lest they be left behind at the crossroads.

  Winter hobbled along, wishing the ointment she’d rubbed into her knee would work more quickly. But the fact of the matter was she healed at a human rate and chasing Lana down the path made her wish for elevation and an icepack.

  Brian watched her for several long minutes with worry etched into his terracotta face. “Winter, should I carry you?”

  Winter shook her head. “I’m fine.” Her knee throbbed.

  Brian turned to Lana. “Excuse me, can we stop for a minute?”

  Lana looked annoyed, but she slowed to a stop. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just need a moment.” With that Brian walked down the path a bit and slipped into a gap between the bushes that had not been there before.

  Lana’s brows rose. “Either he’s already gotten the hang of this or Faerie is about to eat your cousin.”

  Worry churned in Winter’s belly and she limped forward to go after him. He was her responsibility.

  Before she reached the gap Brian slipped back through onto the path, now carrying a branch of a length to make a good walking stick.

  Lana grinned and looked Brian over as if she liked what she saw. “Faerie likes you, Hero.”

  Brian handed the walking stick to Winter. “This should help.”

  Winter smiled, relief and gratitude mingling in her eyes. “Thank you.”

  Lana set out again and the two mortals followed, and while Winter still struggled her progress was made easier.

  Brian looked thoughtful. “Can you tell me about this Hero thing?”

  Beside the fact that Winter wished it would just go away? But it wouldn’t. She knew, now, that there was no hope of that. Brian’s Hero’s Journey had begun.

  And it would end in his death.

  But Winter didn’t want to frighten Brian. There would come time to talk about that, later. “Everyone experiences Fate, the endless network of choices that shapes the course of our lives. But Heroes are selected by the Universe and born into the world each with a singular Destiny. Each Hero’s Destiny is different, but even so their lives all follow a similar general path.” She looked up at the moon, so strange here, yet still following a path across the sky. “During the early part of their lives, Heroes will go through a period of tempering where they face great trials and hardships and come out the stronger for them.” Such as Brian’s time on the streets. “They will often gain and lose an early mentor.” The loss of his adopted father, Jake. “And then they will begin their Hero’s Journey which will lead them irrevocably toward their final Destiny. Once they meet that Destiny, triumph or fail, their service to the Universe is done.”

  “And then what happens?”

  “They die,” said Lana, tart.

  Winter gave her a withering look, but wa
s ignored.

  “Die?” Brian’s tone was even but his brows were raised.

  “Yup, they go out in a blaze of-"

  “Would you stop?” Winter wanted to brain the fae with her walking stick.

  Brian blew out a breath. “No, it’s okay. I need to know this.” He looked at Winter. “Is it true?”

  For once, Winter told the truth. “Yes, most Heroes die in service to their Destinies.”

  Brian was quiet for several minutes, watching the woods as they walked. Finally, he gave Winter a small smile. “Everyone dies. I know I’ll get to die doing the right thing, right?”

  Winter returned his smile. “Heroes can serve both the darkness and the light. I don’t have any doubts about which side you’re on.”

  Brian’s smile widened with her praise.

  “We’re here.” Lana’s voice cut through their warm moment and Winter looked around to see they were approaching a massive, moss-covered stone wall, its extremes lost to darkness and mist.

  Light poured through a gate at the end of the path; cool light, with the curious quality of moonlight. And stationed at the gate were three guards playing a dice game.

  Lana put more swing into her step as they got closer, her hips moving in an eye-catching rhythm. The guards looked up at their approach, for a moment eyes riveted on Lana. And then one frowned and smacked his fellows, speaking in Faerie Gaelic. Winter could make out a single possible word: Lanadrielle.

  Lana stopped, muttering, “Shit,” under her breath. She then smiled brightly and began to speak in rapid Faerie Gaelic.

  Brian murmured in Winter’s ear. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”

  Whatever Lana was saying did not impress the guards, because a moment later one grabbed her.

  “Lana!” Brian stepped forward, ready to defend her.

  “No!” Lana gritted her teeth against the guard’s grip. “I’m just under arrest. They’re taking us to King Ceallach.”

  “Why?” Winter sensed they had not been told everything.