by D. N. Hoxa
“What? No! Of course not. I’m not jealous. I’m…I’m not jealous at all. I just do not like people who lie through their teeth.” Red touched Aaron’s cheeks—something I never thought I’d actually see.
For the second time that night, butterflies invaded my stomach. Aaron had been jealous of Kyahen’s compliments towards me.
“Fey cannot lie,” I said, and my voice was strangely dry, though the smile wouldn’t leave my face.
“What?”
“You don’t like people who lie through their teeth, you said. Fairies cannot lie.”
Through the corner of my eyes, I saw his mouth open and close and open and close, but there was nothing he found to say to that. He’d fallen into his own trap, and now the steering wheel was paying the price. He gripped it so tightly, there was no blood left in his hands.
When we finally got back to the Base, the night air filled my lungs and cleared my head. My muscles felt weak, my legs like jelly. The day—and night—had really gotten the best of of me. And the nosebleed had done its part, too.
Aaron said nothing as we made our way to the entrance.
“Thanks for…the ride,” I said when we reached the separate hallways that took us to our rooms, then mentally slapped myself. .
What the hell is wrong with you?! somone yelled at me in my head. The ride? I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as shivers ran down my spine from embarrassment. What the hell was I thinking? It was like I was thanking him for what we did in the carriage—though if I wanted to be completely honest, he deserved it. The man deserved a big thank you.
Ugh. I was definitely losing it.
“No problem,” he said, raising a brow at me as if in question. I wished I could drop dead, but I wasn’t that lucky.
I practically ran to my room, impatient to be by myself already. I had a lot of thinking to do when…
“You did it!” Ella said as soon as I opened the door to my room. She’d been sitting on my bed, waiting for me, it seemed. And what was she talking about?
Oh. Oh! Of course! Kyahen, the deal and everything else that was important.
“Right!” I said a second too late. “I, uh…have another ally!”
“Congratulations!” Ella said, clapping her hands. “And I’m starving. Can you tell me everything on our way to get some food?”
I didn’t mind that she’d waited for me. I was exhausted and I did want to be alone, but I’d rather I was with her first. And so we made our way to the kitchen again, and I told her everything that Kyahen said. I described the ball and everything else to the best of my abilities, though words weren’t my strong suit.
“So, basically, he said you were hot and could kick his ass, and that’s why he agreed to help us?” Ella asked when I wrapped the story up.
“Kind of. But fey are very superficial. They are obsessed with the looks of things. And he didn’t agree because I could kick his ass, although I probably could,” I said with a grin, “but because he felt my power. He knows I’ve got what it takes to finish this.”
“It still makes no sense to me why you had to bother. I mean, couldn’t the Elders just make that shifter and the weirdo fairy cooperate with you? Wouldn’t that have saved you a lot of time and energy?” Ella asked as she prepared herself a sandwich.
“It doesn’t work that way. When you force someone into helping another, they won’t see it as helping you. They’ll see it as something they have to do, in which case, they won’t hesitate to blow you off if it’s convenient for them. And both shifters and fey are very proud creatures. Making them do something will almost always end up with someone stabbing someone else in the back—guaranteed.” Experience had taught me that over and over again. “So that’s why it’s very important to have someone who wants to help you.”
“Makes sense,” Ella mumbled. “And what about Kate and her sister? Were they of any help?”
I flinched at the mention of Kate. I hoped she made it back safely. On our way back to our rooms, I told Ella about how she’d gotten drunk. And about fey politics. Halfs—to fairies—were lower than humans, and even though her sister was the Oracle, Kate was still going to get looked down at.
Ella absorbed every piece of information I gave her, and by the time we made it back to the room, I could barely hold myself up. I threw my shoes in one corner and my dress in the other, hoping I wouldn’t ruin it. Sleep took me before I even hit the pillow.
17
——————————
I woke up at noon the next day—I was that exhausted. Strangely, though, the need to train my powers had grown considerably from the day before. I couldn’t really understand it, but it was like an itching that seemed to grow bigger the more I scratched it.
I was thankful for it, too, because though I didn’t keep a full day of training, I could easily distract myself from Aaron. He kept his distance with me as if he knew that was what I needed, and I was thankful.
And I called it a day earlier, too, because like I said, I couldn’t wait to get out in the open air and train my powers. It had been all I was able to think about, each second I wasn’t obsessing over what had happened with Aaron in the carriage in Necterram.
It was pitch black outside when I finally made it. The moon was standing alone in the velvet sky. Without company—just like me. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Without even giving myself the chance to clear my head, I flicked my lighter and watched, mesmerized, as the fire touched my fingers and spread on my skin like it was finally home. My thoughts, most of them, were gone after that, because whether I wanted to admit it or not, fire was a huge pain in the ass. It just didn’t want to be controlled. It had a free spirit, and it wanted nothing more than to dance without bothering about much else.
And just like the gold, fire was a stubborn sonovabitch.
Lucky for me, the night was still young, and I was patient. I sat on the ground, crossed my legs and gave both it and myself time. Eventually, I began to expand the orange flames around my fist and then on my other hand, too. They resisted at first, but I expected nothing easy, and eventually I talked them into it.
The hardest part was that I had to keep half my focus on my skin. I did not want to get burned. But that sucked a lot of my energy in. The strangest thing, the fire seemed to like me that way.
With water, I had to be completely relaxed and peaceful in order to get it to move the way I wanted it to. With air, I had to be the boss and order—not request. It was the only way that worked. With earth, I had to open up my mind and allow it to feel me the same time I felt it. Only then did it let me form a connection.
Fire was the most difficult because it wanted me to try hard. It wanted me to seduce it into doing my bidding.
That was exactly what I did. Not ideal for a fight but I was training, and eventually, I would be able to access each element immediately. Hopefully. For now, I persuaded it and it grew. Slowly but it grew. The flames put on a show on me as they tingled my skin.
Complete silent bliss. I inhaled deeply and started to talk the flames into spreading up my now bare arms. Power. So much power coursed through me as fire spread on my skin. It understood me. All the elements did. They liked me for who I was even if I wasn’t exactly the best person or sup out there, but they didn’t judge me. They knew my thoughts. They knew my heart. They knew my regrets and they accepted me.
It was already midnight when I finally went to my room. Fire had been tiring, but I managed to make it burn up to my shoulders without burning myself at all.
I quickly undressed and slipped under the blanket. Soon enough, sleep took me.
***
My hands were slightly trembling on my lap. I was sitting on the white sand and could feel it everywhere inside my shoes and socks. Annoying, but that wasn’t all that had me so nervous.
The night before, McGraw said that I had successfully finished my first year of training. I barely held a smile because I couldn’t wait for it to be over and to leave on my own. Away from L
yndor.
That was until the old man spoke again. “Now you only have one more.”
I wanted to cry then, but the damned tears wouldn’t come. I was pretty sure my tear ducts were broken.
The dagger in my hand was a work of art, and it fit my palm perfectly. McGraw gave it to me as a gift for finishing year one. He said that it was a Persian dagger, made of almost four inches of iron with the sharpest tip I had ever seen. Starting from the bottom of the hollow grind up to an inch away from the tip, the iron was carved with strings of gold that made it look like fire was burning in the middle of it. The hilt was covered in dark red leather and the golden quillon held my hand in perfect place. I fell in love with it more every second. The dagger was a perfect extension of my hand.
Footsteps on the cobblestones around the training area. McGraw appeared first with Oszlovic following right behind. He had his giant fingers wrapped around the elbow of a warlock who had his head down and his hands tied behind his back. I could see the blood on his grey shirt and pants. A shiver ran down my spine, but I kept my face expressionless. I already knew I was going to hate this.
“Star,” McGraw said, and I offered only a nod in return. I couldn’t look away from the bloodied warlock. Oszlovic had a wicked smile on his thin lips as he made the man raise his head.
It was Bob Armstrong.
I know the warlock. He held a pretty high position within the Council. I knew this because I had seen him in Lyndor at least four times in one year. Kai said he was some sort of a diplomat or contact person for someone from the Council, but I never paid attention to her. Now, I made a mental note to ask Kai again and actually listen.
I held my shoulders straight and my chin high, keeping my breath even and my heart rate normal because McGraw was looking at me. “This is Mr. Armstrong,” he said to me, then turned to the warlock. “You know Star, don’t you, Bob?”
Bob Armstrong looked at me like I smelled worse than a dirty alley. I raised my brow at him and smiled for show, but blood was already rushing to my ears. McGraw turned to me again, and he saw on my face exactly what he wanted to see as I kept my eyes on the bloodied warlock.
“This will be your first test, girl. Mr. Armstrong here has damaged our Council quite a bit, I’m afraid. Knowingly, too. Therefore, we have brought him here to be your first real opponent. You shall fight each other until one of you is dead.”
My heart fought to get out of my ribs, but my face didn’t show it.
This is it. This is the real thing. This will be my first kill.
Or my demise.
I filled my lungs through my nose soundlessly and kept my face expressionless. McGraw seemed pleased.
“Mr. Oszlovic will be your audience, and he will report back to me.” The old man then turns to me with a small smile on his wrinkled face. “Oh, and don’t forget to have fun.”
Oszlovic removed the cuffs from Bob Armstrong’s wrists and stepped back to give us room. I mentally prepared myself for a fight, but at first, it was hard to get my body to move with the ease I needed it to.
Armstrong was a warlock, and I was willing to bet his power was that of illusion. Good thing we are in Lyndor, and he couldn’t use his magic. One less thing to worry about during my first real fight.
It felt like a dream. I had trained a year for this day, but all of a sudden, it seems too early to fight for real. I feared I was not ready. But I guessed I’d find out soon, because just like with everything else, Lyndor didn’t give you any other option.
Bob Armstrong was already on his feet, looking at Oszlovic like he wanted him to drop dead already while he stretched his muscles. His left eye was swollen almost completely shut and had taken on a nasty purple color. He worked his arms, hands, neck and feet for a few seconds until he took his place in front of me. I’d never seen the man fight, so I had no idea what to expect. How fast was he? How strong?
I saw the muscle of his shoulder flinch half a second before I blocked his arm with mine, right in front of my face. He apparently didn’t like to sit around and wait. Good for me.
And so it began. This was so much more exciting than the pretend fights, or just being forced to sit around while others beat the shit out of you. This was as real as it got, and I loved the rush of adrenaline that took over my body. I was sweating, but I was also smiling.
I was ready.
I jumped out of the way and avoided the hits he gave me for the first minute, just to warm myself up and learn how Armstrong moved. When the time was right, I let him hit me, too, just to measure his strength. It was a bad idea to let him catch me in the jaw because he literally made me see stars in my vision, but now I knew for next time.
I pulled my knee up and barely caught his gut because he jumped back and tried to hit me in the same second. We chased each other for a while, kicking and hitting and leaning away until his bloodied hand gripped my wrist. Perfect opportunity. I used the strength of his hand and pulled him to me as I reached for my waistband.
The next second, my brand new dagger was buried in his gut.
He gasped and let me go, stepping back with wide eyes. I pulled my dagger back out, and I spun around before I landed a kick on the side of his waist. He blocked it and I felt the grip of his strong fingers around my ankle. I couldn’t keep my balance. I fell to the ground on my back.
Armstrong was on top of me before I had the chance to blink. He grabbed both my wrists and held them together with one hand. He released all his weight on my stomach to keep me from moving as his other hand wrapped itself around my throat.
I couldn’t breathe. My eyes nearly popped out of my skull as I looked into his. They were a pretty shade of brown. And they were glossy.
Is he crying?!
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and tightened his grip around my neck. “You’re just a kid. I’m so sorry.”
I gasped, but not from the pain or because I couldn’t breathe. I gasped because he just said he was sorry that he was going to kill me. Regret had completely filled his eyes, and a heavy weight dropped on my chest.
Bob Armstrong didn’t want to kill me, just like I didn’t really want to kill Bob Armstrong. Fight him, yes, but kill him—never.
Unfortunately, we both knew that we had no other choice, or we would both be dead.
His lips were parted and his breathing heavy. He looked like he was in a terrible pain.
He could be my father.
I closed my eyes. I couldn’t afford to think like that. I couldn’t let myself die yet. I hadn’t gone through so much shit to let my life end on the first try. I felt sorry—so, so sorry for Bob Armstrong, but I couldn’t die. Not yet. I needed to live.
I pushed up with my hips and moved fast to one side. He lost his balance for a split second. That was all the time I needed. I pushed my knees on both sides of his waist, and he gasped, losing his breath. Next, I pushed up with my hips again, and this time, he had no choice but to either let go of me, or fall to the side.
He let go.
I rolled on my side and jumped to my feet in a blink. I kicked him in the chin with the tip of my sneaker before he could recover completely, and he fell back down to his knees. I grabbed him by his blond hair and raised his head so I could see into his eyes.
I’m sorry, my eyes told him, because I didn’t dare say the words out loud like he had. Really, very sorry.
And Bob Armstrong saw it. He saw it, blinked once and closed his eyes.
Half a second before I buried my new dagger in his heart, his lips moved with the words beware of the master.
And then I fell.
18
——————————
“You don’t have to come, Aaron,” I said for what felt like the tenth time. “You don’t have to go with me to everything. And it’s Thomas I’m talking to, so you won’t need to report.”
I was on my way to Thomas, who’d sent Ralf to call for me—finally—while I was still eating breakfast that morning. And Aaron insisted he come with me. I
t was exhausting.
“I know. I just want to come,” he said, surprising me again.
With a sigh, I let it go because Thomas was his father, and Aaron probably already knew what I was being called for. Which reminded me…
“What is this about?”
But Aaron shook his head. “No idea. I saw him last night, but he didn’t say anything.” Suddenly, he looked as curious as I was.
“This should be interesting,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Very,” he said, nodding.
I almost patted myself on the back because I obviously had what it took to talk to Aaron without constantly wanting to either kick him or kiss him. And he did, too. We could be civilized. We could do this. As long as he wasn’t looking at me like he wanted to swallow me whole, we could definitely be adults.
When we got there, Aaron knocked on the iron door once, and without waiting for a reply, we entered. Thomas looked tired and worn out. Both his shirt and pants were terribly wrinkled like he hadn’t changed in days. His hair had grown longer than I’d seen it last, and he was looking at his son in surprise.
The room was middle-sized and square, with too many light bulbs just like every other room in the Base. A wooden desk stood on one side while chairs scattered everywhere stood on the other. The marble floor was bare, and the walls were lined with shelves and many papers. No books, though.
“What are you doing here, Aaron? I called only for her,” Thomas said to his son, never even acknowledging me with his eyes. I rolled mine.
“I wanted to know if something happened,” Aaron answered, looking his father straight in the eye like he was challenging him.
“Nothing happened. I just need to talk to her.”
“I know. I’m not here to stop you,” Aaron said and then turned to me. “Star?” He waved for one of the chairs across from his father’s desk, and without a word, I took a seat. Thomas looked at me once and then turned back to Aaron.
“Son, I’d like to speak to Star alone.” He said my name like the it pained him to pronounce it.
