by Bonnie Lamer
“What is this?” I ask Kallen quietly.
“Once a month, Dagda offers himself to the Fairy population. They can come here to discuss anything. Their troubles, their desires, their happiness or unhappiness, anything they feel the need to share with him.
Wow, that’s pretty cool. “What if someone says something he doesn’t like?” After all, I seem to have gotten my temper and intolerance for being told I’m wrong from him.
Kallen shrugs. “Most Fairies are smart enough to present their issues in a respectful manner. Dagda is not known for his patience.” He gives me a pointed look. Yeah, I got that from him as well.
Catching sight of us, Sindri waits until Dagda is finished speaking and then speaks quietly in his ear. Dagda’s eyes find us and he nods. Moving forward, Sindri says to the crowd, “Please make way for the Princess and her Prince.” He motions for us to walk through the path that is clearing.
A lot of eyes are trained on me. Some curious, some hostile, and some even look like they’re happy to see me. I smile at them all as I move towards my biological father. When we are close to his throne, he says, “Have you come on urgent business?” He is trying to school his face, but his eyes look hopeful. I don’t think this is his favorite day of the month.
I nod solemnly, trying to make it seem dire so that the crowd doesn’t think I’m just putting my own concerns ahead of theirs. “Yes,” I say quietly. Kallen gives me a surreptitious wink.
Rising, Dagda says to the crowd, “I will return shortly.” There’s a lot of grumbling, but he rises from his throne and walks around it. He gestures for us to follow him to his office that is just off from this room.
When Kallen closes the door behind us, Dagda walks around the desk and has a seat in his chair. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms and then turns to face us. “Have a seat,” he says, indicating the chairs in front of his desk. “Tell me what this is about.”
“My aura is painted dark, I have a familiar, and I make Alita sick,” I blurt out.
Dagda blinks several times not knowing what to say. He opens and closes his mouth a few times but nothing comes out. Finally, he turns to Kallen. “What the hell is she talking about?”
I frown at him, but I let Kallen do the explaining. “It is as she says,” Kallen tells him. “We woke this morning to find that a familiar has been created for her. The familiar, being of dark magic, affected Alita when she came to Grandmother’s to work on hand-fasting details. When Xandra went to her to try to ease her pain, Alita reacted to Xandra’s presence as she had the familiar. She also claimed that Xandra has a dark aura surrounding her. When Tabitha explored further, she said that it is as if the darkness is ‘painted on’.”
Dagda shakes his head and gives a humorless chuckle. He leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes again. After a moment, he looks back at us, me specifically. “I set you on a rough path, for that I am sorry because it seems you will never know peace.”
Embarrassed by his candor, I shrug. “I can handle it.”
He nods. “Yes, you can.” Leaning forward and putting his elbows on his desk, he says, “Did you come simply to explain what is happening?”
“Kind of,” I say. “We felt you should know since your walking dark magic meter is sort of incapacitated at the moment. It would be a good time for someone to attack.”
His eyes widen slightly and his nostrils flare. “You believe this to be a plot against me?”
I shrug again. “Not necessarily. It’s a ‘just in case’ visit. You should watch your back while I’m watching mine.”
A smile is trying hard to pull up the corners of his mouth, but he tamps it down. “Your concern for my safety is appreciated.”
“We also came to research familiars,” I rush to say, not wanting him to get too carried away with the mushy stuff.
“We would like to search the archives for any information we can use to track down the caster of the spell,” Kallen adds.
“Of course,” Dagda says, as relieved as I am to let the mushy moment pass. “I will call for the scribe to assist you.”
“Scribe?” I ask.
“He is in charge of making sure no document is lost. If the ink is fading or the ancient parchment crumbling, he will transcribe the information using today’s materials which are more durable,” Kallen explains.
That sounds like an easy enough job. Boring though. “Thank you,” I say standing up.
Kallen and I walk to the door opposite the one we came through before. This door will lead us into the heart of the palace. When my hand is on the doorknob, Dagda says, “Xandra, if you need help you are to ask for it.”
Kallen turns back to him and says, “You do realize who you are speaking with, right?”
Dagda laughs. “Yes, unfortunately I do. Do your best to keep her safe.”
Kallen nods and I roll my eyes at the both of them. “Come on,” I say to my husband. Both of them are chuckling as we walk out the door in search of the archives.
Chapter 5
Did I say this would be an easy job? As I stare at the rows upon rows of ancient tomes, scrolls and parchments in the bowels of the palace, I have to give major props to the scribe. How in the world could someone maintain all of this stuff?
A short, gray haired Fairy who looks as if he’s only alive because the Angels of Death can’t find him down here, ambles towards us from one of the many rows. No, amble is too strong a word for what he is doing. He’s moving, I’m sure of it, but it’s like a clock; you know the minute hand moves but you have to watch very closely to see it. I think we had better walk to him.
When we are standing in front of the scribe, I am impressed by the clarity and intensity of his green eyes. His body may be failing him but his mind is still vibrant as ever. I stick my hand out to him and say, “Hi, I’m Xandra.”
In a voice so raspy it’s as if dust is speaking, he says, “I know who you are.” He lifts up an arm so slowly, I want to help him and continues, “What you seek is down there among the dark magic scrolls.” His eyes swing back to me, his hand lowering at the same pace it was raised. I drop mine back to my side. “Tread carefully in that section. You are the first to traverse those halls since before my birth.”
Oh god, I can’t even imagine how long ago that was. “Um, don’t you have to maintain the information there?” I ask.
He tries to chuckle and I swear a cobweb pulls apart at the corner of his lips when he smiles. “That section maintains itself.” A cackle escapes from between his lips and chills travel down my spine.
“Come on,” Kallen says as he takes my hand. There’s no hesitation on my part. I want to get away from this creepy little man as fast as I can.
I’m ready to eat those words now as we approach the dark magic section. It is at least a quarter mile from the door and the light from the lamps barely reaches this area. The air around us is changing, becoming thick and stagnant. As I pull it into my lungs, it feels like I’m poisoning myself. I instinctively shorten my breaths. Kallen is wearing a grim expression and his breathing has also gotten shallower. He must feel the same way. “Oh my god, Kallen, the air down here is so bad. How are we going to stay down here?”
Before he can answer, a dark shape darts in front of us and I have flashbacks of being in the Shadow realm. I clutch Kallen’s hand tighter as we pass the aisle the dark shape disappeared into. There is nothing there. Nothing small like a mouse that could cast a long shadow and no ghost playing tricks with the light. Whatever it was just disappeared. Hopefully it stays gone.
As we move farther and farther into the dark, I start to feel like I’m in a Harry Potter book. Pages ruffle as if a wind is blowing; books pull out on their own as if inviting us to look inside. Some of them even shriek as we pass by.
“Where do we start?” I ask Kallen.
He shrugs, his eyes wary as he scans the shelves. “I do not have a clue.” As he finishes his sentence, his nose is suddenly bent out of shape like he just ran into a glass wall. His hand is yanked fr
om mine and a voice from somewhere deep within the dark magic section whispers something that sounds very much like ‘not you’.
“What the hell?” he says, putting his hands up and pushing against whatever invisible force is keeping him from advancing. It doesn’t feel like magic, but it is as strong as magic.
I take a step away from him and walk forward, testing to see if it will let me pass. It does. It also makes me feel as if a bucket of warm tar has been dumped over me. Not in an ‘ouch, this really hurts’ kind of way. More like a blanket meant to keep me warm, a welcoming that only the darkness can offer. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin.
Kallen tries to move forward again, but the invisible force continues to hold him. He draws magic and pushes against the force again, only to find himself flat on his back on the floor when the magic swings back to him like a boomerang.
Frowning, I pull my own magic and send it forth. I feel it hit the invisible wall and instead of demolishing it, it makes it glow. There is a shimmering in the air like dust molecules are formed into a wall that’s only in front of Kallen. The other freaky part is that it’s not the only thing to glow. My magic seems to have awakened the dark magic section and the air is swirling around me, licking my skin like a dog wanting attention. It’s as if I’m giving it new life by feeding it my magic.
Kallen is back on his feet and I turn to him. “What’s going on?”
“It will not let me pass,” he says, stating the obvious.
I give him a sour look. “I know that. Why won’t it let you pass?”
He’s quiet for a moment and then understanding makes his eyes glow. “I think it is reacting to the darkness of your aura.”
It takes a moment for that to sink in because my mind is trying to push the information away. “You mean it thinks I’m evil?” I pull my magic back, not wanting to feed anything more than I already have.
Kallen shrugs uncomfortably. “I cannot find any other explanation.”
“It won’t let you pass because you don’t have any darkness on your soul?”
He nods. “That seems to be the case.”
A surge of anger rises in me. “Well isn’t that just great. Mr. Perfect has a pure aura and I have a dirty one. Looks like you get to go out and play while I try to find answers.”
His own anger is trying to surface but he keeps his voice even. “You know damn well that I would be helping if I could.”
As quickly as it came, the anger seeps out of me. I’m embarrassed and my cheeks flush. I’m having trouble looking him in the eye. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I know you would.” Looking around, I say, “It’s this place. I think it’s affecting me.”
“Of course it is,” the scribe says behind us and I practically jump out of my skin.
“Where did you come from?” I ask. There’s no way he caught up with us so easily. Maybe he has a scooter or something stashed behind a row of books.
“I came from the heavens and will soon return,” he says. I look closely at him trying to determine if he is being intentionally evasive or if he is just crazy. I can’t tell. Continuing, he says, “Evil recognizes evil.”
“Hey!” I say, seriously thinking about decking the ancient Fairy. “I am not evil.”
His vibrant green eyes look me up and down and then he says, “Then why have you crossed the line that only lets those who are one with the darkness pass?”
Okay, that does seem like damning evidence. But still, I’m not evil. “I’m sure it lets some other people pass.”
By the time he’s done shaking his head from side to side, I feel like I’ve aged twenty years. “Only darkness.”
Great. Now he’s going to go spread the word that I’m evil. I’m sure that will help with my popularity. Unless I just kill him.
Whoa! Whoa! What am I thinking? I’m going to kill a little old man for speaking the truth? This place really is affecting me. Especially since I just said all of that out loud. The poor Fairy’s eyes have filled with fear and he takes a step back. The quickest step I’ve seen him take thus far.
“Xandra,” Kallen says, bringing my attention back to him. “Perhaps we should go.”
I start to say okay, but then remember why we’re here in the first place. “No, I have to find out if we can track down the caster of the spell.”
Worry is all over his face. “If the price is your sanity, it is not worth it. Angel, we can find other methods.”
“Which methods? Kallen, this was our only option, which is why we had to come here?” I snap. “Because it’s so easy to find information on familiars somewhere else?” Wow, I’m making a pretty good play towards Bitchiest Wife of the Year Award. Taking a deep breath and forcing myself to look up into his angry eyes, I say, “Sorry. Again.”
Trying to shove down his own anger, he tries again. “We need to get you out of here.”
I shake my head. “No, we need this information. I’ll be okay, I promise.”
He doesn’t believe me, that’s apparent. His eyes are boring into mine as if he can see the lie tattooed on my irises. “Xandra,” he begins, but the scribe cuts him off.
“You must let her go on this journey alone. She will find the information she seeks.”
“You just keep getting weirder and weirder,” I say to the scribe and of course I instantly feel terrible. Nothing like kicking the nearly dead when they’re already down. Trying to scrub that sentence from their minds, I rush to say, “Kallen, I have to do this. Whoever is behind the familiar spell obviously is an expert in black magic. I need to learn some of its secrets so I’m able to protect myself. And all of you like usual,” I add, immediately wishing I could take it back.
After a long, hard look, he finally says, “Go.”
Geez, I hope he just means go find the spell information because the look in his eyes could easily pass for ‘go away and never come back’. I simply nod, not wanting clarification at the moment. Blowing him a kiss that I’m sure just bounced off his wall of anger, I turn and continue my journey into the depths of darkness.
Chapter 6
What am I doing? I don’t have the first clue how to find anything in here. There has to be at least a million pieces of paper and books. There’s no way I can look at them all. I’d be as old as the scribe by the time I finished. And some of them are so old that I don’t dare touch them. I really hope none of them hold the answers.
Choosing an aisle at random, I study the columns of ancient texts. There’s an unfortunate odor to them. They smell like chocolate-covered, used sweat socks that a zombie wore for a week or so. A sickly sweet smell covering a rancid, damp one. I’m pretty sure I’ll never get this smell out of my pores. Kallen had better like his wife stinky.
Stopping in the middle of the aisle, I reach my hand out to touch a random book. I jump back when the book slides towards me on its own. A soft whispering is coming from it in some language I don’t understand. I’m sure it’s saying ‘pick me’, but it’s saying a lot more than that as well. Probably something along the lines of ‘pick me and kill everyone you know just by reading one of my pages’. I decide to move farther down the aisle.
The deeper into the dark magic section I get, the heavier my body feels. I feel like I’m wading through a giant vat of chocolate pudding. Soon, I find that I’m having trouble putting one foot in front of the other until it feels as if the pudding has turned to sludge. I finally reach a point where I cannot walk anymore. Great. What am I going to do now?
With a painful zing, a spell pops into my head and before I can stop myself, I say the words out loud even though I uselessly try to bite back each syllable before I give voice to it. “Masters of old, trapped inside your cage, pushed aside by those less sage, this fate bestowed in a cruel and blind age. I call upon you to rise again, make the world as it should have been and save us from this sickening fen. Walk among us and show no mercy to those who have left you thirsty. Your power is restored to share your wrath with those who have kept you from your rightful path.”<
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As the last syllable of the spell leaves my mouth, a scream is wrenched from the bottom of my soul. I fall to my hands and knees, still screaming as pain shoots through every pore. My magic is forcibly pulled through me, lighting the dark walls, setting free god knows what. In a fog, my ears can barely pick up the sound of Kallen’s voice. He is shouting, fright and anger and worry mix in his voice, but what pulls me from this fog is the love I hear. Whatever else he is thinking, first and foremost, he wants to know that I am okay, that I am still with him.
That is what gives me the strength to stand amongst the paper cyclone the dark section has become. It gives me the strength to fight against the pull, to fight for control of my magic that is being absorbed into these pages and giving them life. With every ounce of strength I have, I pull my magic back. I rip it from the unseen hands that are grasping it, reveling in its glow. I take it back and then I turn it around. I push the books back to the shelves. I push the scrolls and the parchment back to their places.
