A Deadly Duet: Spellsinger: Book 6

by Amy Sumida

  “No; I only have to share you with four other men,” he snarled. “I am a god, Elaria. How do I accept this?”

  “You focus on me instead of them,” I said softly. “Remember that our love is special and separate; they have no part in it.”

  Darc pulled me around his body and into his lap so he could hold me. He trailed kisses over my face and then nuzzled his cheek against mine. We sat there together in silence for a few minutes before he shivered and his muscles began to relax.

  “I don't know where the dagger is,” he whispered.

  I let out a shaky, terrified breath.

  “But I know where to start looking,” he added.

  I pulled back to look at Darc hopefully. “You'll help me find it?”

  “I will,” he agreed. “I'll even perform the severing if that's your wish.”

  “Thank you.” I hugged him tightly.

  “And I will compromise for you, Elaria,” Darc added.

  I made an exuberant cry and pulled back to kiss him, but he stopped me.

  “But you will give me the concessions I asked for,” Darc said. “You will perform a marriage ceremony with me, and not them—not ever. I need to have something of my own.”

  “I think I can convince them to agree to that,” I said softly. “But I do need to talk to them first.”

  “Then return to your consorts and have your talk,” he said grimly. “I will find the dagger for you. Consider it a wedding gift.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “This is asking a lot,” Banning said. “I do sympathize with the guy, but he gets to marry you while we all remain consorts? I don't see how that's fair.”

  “Darcraxis was my husband,” I said softly. “Much more than that. I understand that this is hard for all of you, but it's not easy for him either. He doesn't feel as if he should have to compromise at all.”

  “And he has the upper hand,” Torin said morosely. “I feel backed into a corner, little bird.”

  “And I feel stuck in the middle,” I said. “I don't have anything else to offer you. Except, of course, the option to leave.”

  Torin grimaced and rolled his eyes. “That's not an option.”

  “Not for any of us,” Gage added.

  “I'm glad to hear you say that, and I hope you'll try to see things from his perspective,” I said. “You realize that he could just let me die and wait for me to become a goddess. He doesn't have to help us or compromise.”

  “I have realized that,” Declan said. “And it's why I think we should continue searching for the dagger ourselves.”

  “He won't fail me,” I said confidently.

  “You trust him,” Banning noted.

  “I do,” I admitted. “I've been inside his soul. I know him; if Darc says he'll find the dagger for me, he won't stop until he does.”

  “Just the same,” Declan said, “he could fail without meaning to. We must keep looking; the more who are searching for this thing, the better.”

  “All right,” I agreed. “And speaking of the search; did any of you speak to Danyon?”

  “He was the first person we spoke to,” Torin said. “Danyon was amazed to hear about the orb and what you had done with it, but when we told him about the dagger, he was even more shocked. He had no idea of its existence.”

  “I don't know where else to look,” I whispered dismally.

  “Perhaps if you access your Light, it will show you memories that may point us in the right direction,” Torin suggested.

  “Okay,” I agreed as I headed to a chair. “That sounds like it might work.”

  We were on the first level of my tower suite; where the social rooms were. I took a seat at the dining set and closed my eyes. I saw the Light immediately; it had been growing stronger and stronger, and I cursed myself for spending the last two weeks with Darcraxis. I should have asked him to look for the dagger first and then gave him some time alone. But I hadn't been thinking clearly and ignoring my anxiety over my growing goddess powers had been a relief. So stupid. If the amount of magic inside me was any indication, I didn't have much time left.

  I pushed past the panic my thoughts incited and sank into the Light. I mentally asked it to show me anything that could help me find the soul-severing dagger. But instead of helping me, the Light flared angrily and roused the other magic inside me. They filled me with swirling flames and blinding light, and I gasped in horror.

  I had basically asked the magic to help me find a way to get rid of it. The Light hadn't liked that at all.

  Images started bombarding my brain; my life as Faenestra rolling out before me in even greater detail than it had before. I cried out as I saw the Shining Ones rise as a civilization; their kingdoms grow and spread over Tír na nÓg. Darcraxis and I had taken delight in making the Lesser Fey; beings of beauty, whimsy, and physical strength. I ran with the pukas, swam with the mermaids, and flew with the pixies. The world blossomed every day under our care.

  But they blossomed too much. The day came when we realized that the Shining Ones would outgrow Tír na nÓg. We had made a crucial mistake when we gave them immortality. It wasn't our kind of eternal life; they weren't gods so they were susceptible to fatal injuries. But death came rarely to the Fae, and the population became too large. We had to cull the herd.

  Other gods had demanded sacrifices from their children, and so we thought that would be the best solution. We went among them and marked the ones who had lived the longest or the ones we thought were not contributing to their race as much as others. It was a torturous process for us—having to decide who lived and who died—but we did it for the good of the planet. Our second mistake was not in the marking but in making our children kill the ones we'd chosen. It was too hard for us to kill them; a parent should never have to kill their own child. So, we made them kill each other.

  I could see the horror of it now. And even though we didn't wield the weapon, we still felt the pain of their deaths. It was too much to bear. We stopped the sacrifices and came up with another solution; infertility. We changed their cells and made it difficult for the females to conceive. Soon, there were fewer births. But we had already ruined our relationship with our children. They couldn't trust us anymore; we had ceased to be guardians and changed into murderers.

  The Shining Ones banded together; combining their wisdom, magic, and might to use against us. I was enraged when I discovered their duplicity, and I rampaged across Tír na nÓg; setting it alight with my Fire. Forests burned, oceans boiled, and entire kingdoms were leveled. Millions of fairies suffered and died before Darcraxis was able to calm me. But this only made our children more determined to fight.

  They forged a dagger of silver, gold, and copper and then set every kingdom's jewel into the wood and bone hilt. They placed all of the power of Tír na nÓg inside their weapon, and then they wove their spells. I saw it all again; the magic encasing Darc's soul and the dome of it over mine. They had bound us first so that we couldn't escape. Darcraxis called out to me and tried to break free, but neither of us could find a way through their shields. And then a shining one brought the dagger forward. He was a third generation; born instead of formed. His eyes were cold and glittered like the jewel in his crown; a diamond. He lifted the dagger high and brought it down through the ward around me as Darcraxis raged.

  And my soul was cut in half.

  I came out of the vision gasping; my consorts staring at me in concern. I gaped at them; I couldn't believe that the Light had shown me what I wanted to know, despite what it would mean for it. I really was in control of it now. It could rage and fume, but in the end, it would do as I bid.

  “We need to go to the Diamond Kingdom,” I declared.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Diamond Royals were not my allies; they were, in fact, very close to being my enemies. I say “very close” because after the Battle in Sapphire, aka the Sapphire Slaughter—where I had defeated their son, Galen, the Sapphire King, and killed their other son, Finbar—Gale
n had been stripped of his magic and banished to Earth. The Diamond Royals had three children, but their youngest—a daughter named Nila whom Torin had dated—had been stripped of her magic and had chosen to live on Earth long before Galen was forced to. That meant that the Diamond Royals had no living children left in Tír na nÓg and that was mostly my fault. So, even though the Diamond King and Queen had made a tribute to me after my allies and I had won the war, we were not really at peace. I was ninety-nine percent certain that they hated my guts. I doubted they were fond of Torin or Declan either.

  But there we were—seated with the Diamond Royals in their reception room—asking to dig through their treasure. Yep; I was that desperate.

  King Jarlath of Diamond had ebony hair nearly as black as Torin's and eyes to match. His irises were so dark that I couldn't distinguish them from his pupils. His skin was fair, though; the only part of him that matched his wife. Queen Isandra of Diamond was nearly her husband's opposite; she had snow-white hair and eyes that were practically colorless except for their pupils. They were both dressed in deep-maroon velvet and sitting side by side they looked like Venetian harlequins.

  Very angry harlequins.

  “You dare to—” Isandra started.

  “My dear,” Jarlath cut her off, “let's not allow anger to get the better of us.”

  Isandra took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She nodded to her husband. “Then you must handle this, Jar, for I can hardly bear to look on them.”

  “We're willing to offer you a casket of kyanite and trading rights between Onyx, Alexandrite, and Kyanite in exchange for your help,” I said. “All you have to do is let us look, and if the dagger is there, allow us to take it. One little weapon.”

  The royal couple slid their gazes toward each other consideringly.

  “Wouldn't it be better to gain allies than send us away as enemies?” Torin said casually, but there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

  Jarlath swallowed visibly, pursed his lips, and then nodded. “You can look through our treasure room, but I've never seen a dagger of that description. Frankly, it sounds like the Relic, and I would not be interested in keeping an item like that.”

  “Have none of your ancestors mentioned a dagger that was used against the Gods?” Declan asked.

  Jarlath frowned. “The Gods? You mean the races that trick humans?”

  “No; our gods—real gods,” Declan said.

  Jarlath's eyes went wide as he looked from Declan to me. “Why do you need this dagger, Queen Elaria?”

  “To stop me from becoming a goddess.” I decided to go with the truth. “Again.”

  My consorts groaned, but the Diamond Royals gasped.

  “Yeah; that's right,” I said. “I'm your old goddess, Faenestra. Surprise!” I held up my hands and shook them half-heartedly.

  “Is this a joke?” Jarlath asked.

  “I wish it were, Jar,” I said and sighed. “I freed your god along with the other half of my soul recently. Now, that soul is giving me back my magic—magic that's too powerful for this body to hold—and if I don't cut away that part of my soul again, I'll die and be reborn as my old self. Except I probably won't have the mercy and compassion that living in the flesh has given me. It would be right back to the bad old days if you know what I mean.”

  “Sweet stones,” Isandra whispered. “Take them to the treasure room, Jarlath. Give her whatever she needs.”

  “Hold on.” Jarlath sat forward in his chair; his stare fastened on me. “You're Faenestra? You; a spellsinger? You don't have a drop of shining one blood in you.”

  “And somehow she won a Shining One war and rules a jewel kingdom,” Torin pointed out. “Strange, isn't it?”

  “You're truly her?” Jarlath searched my face.

  I held out my arms and let the Light fill me as my response.

  “Dear Goddess,” Jarlath whispered as he fell out of his chair and onto his knees. “You've returned to us.”

  “Jarlath!” Isandra exclaimed.

  “Don't you remember the tales, Isandra?” Jarlath hissed at her. “Faenestra nearly destroyed us all; she holds the spark of life inside her. Kneel, woman!”

  Isandra gaped at her husband and then at me before she got out of her chair gracefully and knelt.

  The Light brightened and a rush of pride ran through my body. This was how I was supposed to be treated. I was a creator of worlds and races, and those races should all kneel before me. I felt Fire and Air blasting through me in anticipation; we would reclaim our place, and all of Tír na nÓg would worship us.

  “Well, this is unexpected,” Banning murmured; jolting me back into myself.

  “I'm not here for that.” I pushed back the feeling of superiority and forced my Light to fade. “Please, get up. This is what I'm trying to prevent.”

  “As you wish,” Jarlath said as he and his wife resumed their seats.

  “But I'd like to hear about any stories you may know relating to Faenestra's soul-severing,” I added.

  “My father used to tell me that his grandfather vanquished our goddess,” Jarlath said grimly. “I thought it was just one of those stories people made up about their ancestors.”

  “I had a vision of your great-grandfather,” I said. “He was the one holding the dagger that severed my soul; it's why we're here.”

  “Then it's true,” Jarlath whispered with wonder. “I apologize on behalf of my relative.”

  “Don't.” I shook my head. “I remember doing some horrible things. Whatever your grandfather did, he believed he was doing it to save his people.”

  Jarlath bowed his head in acceptance and said, “My father told me that a jeweled blade had been used; forged by the most powerful shining ones of the time.”

  “What happened to it?” Torin asked.

  Jarlath frowned as he tried to remember. “I don't recall him saying... wait; there was something. He said the tools they'd used were separated; one to the sea, one to the sky, and one to the earth.”

  “The orb was held by the Sea Fey,” I said. “Do you remember where the dagger went?”

  “Or what the third item was?” Gage added.

  “The third was a book; a collection of the spells they used to conquer the Gods,” Jarlath said. “As to where they went; I don't know.”

  “One to the sky and one to the earth,” I murmured. “If the orb was protected by the Sea Fey, it would make sense that the book and dagger would be protected as well.”

  “So, who would be considered sky fairies?” Banning asked.

  Torin, Declan, and I looked at each other and declared simultaneously, “The Sylphs!”

  “That would be my guess as well,” Jarlath said. “And for earth; perhaps goblins or dryads.”

  “Thank you, King Jarlath.” I sat forward and extended my hand to him.

  “It's my honor to help you, Your Majesty,” Jarlath said as he shook my hand. “And welcome back to Tír na nÓg.”

  “Would you still like to search the treasure room?” Isandra asked.

  “We should look just in case.” Declan nodded.

  “This way.” King Jarlath got to his feet and led us out of the reception room; glancing at me in awe as he went.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  There was no severing dagger in the Diamond Kingdom's treasure room. But at least we had another lead.

  “We're just telling people you're a goddess now?” Banning asked after we arrived in Hawaii.

  We had traveled through the Veil from the Diamond Kingdom with our small retinue of guards. Our closest guards had all been told about my situation so they didn't bat an eye when Banning mentioned my goddesshood.

  “I'm not going to make a public announcement, but it seemed to be the best course of action at the time,” I said.

  “It was,” Torin defended me. “Elaria may have just turned enemies into allies.”

  “And made it known that killing her would be a bad idea,” Declan added.

  “Why? Is someone trying t
o kill her?” Gage growled.

  “You never know,” Banning huffed. “All right; honesty seems to be working.”

  “Now, let's see if it will work on the Sylphs,” Declan said. “Does everyone remember the Sylph Village; are you all able to travel there?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the guards answered.

  “Then let's go,” Torin said.

  We still had our traveling stones out since Hawaii was just a layover on our trip. I clasped mine and pictured the Sylph Village; the teardrop-shaped homes hanging from the thick branches of Primeval trees. Their walls could be translucent or opaque, glow or not; all depending on the whims of their occupants. Some homes had branches leading to them while others hung over open air. The Sylphs didn't need paths to walk, but they kept some for visitors. When I had the image firmly in my head, the stone took me through the Veil and into Primeval.

  We arrived on the wide, welcoming branch; an empty area near the entrance of the village. The Sylphs spotted us at once, and several came over to greet us; including the woman who had once looked after us during the one night we spent there.

  “Alisande,” I said brightly to the sylph woman, “it's good to see you.”

  “And you, Queen Elaria,” Alisande said as her diaphanous body became more substantial. “Welcome back to Osag.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “What bad situation brings you back to us?” Alisande asked with concern. Her diaphanous hair undulated about her; disappearing at the ends.

  “Well—” I started.

  “We are searching for items that may have been hidden with your people,” Declan took over for me with a quelling look in my direction.

  Yeah; maybe I could be a little abrupt. Declan was a bit more tactful.

  “And we don't have a lot of time to locate them,” Torin added. “They are the key to Elaria's survival.”

  “We will gladly help you,” Alisande said as the other sylphs nodded. “What items do you search for?”