Chapter Seven
The Star Isles
What?!
“NO! You can’t do that…it’s crazy. Vaeolet, you have no idea what Lyssa is capable of. She’s insane…evil.” Vaeolet tensed as she looked at my face.
I couldn’t let them do this. From the little I’d discovered earlier, Talyn seemed a decent person, even if my heart didn’t seem to want to behave itself around him. Even now it gave a skip, okay, a flip and a flutter, at the thought of him. He didn’t deserve the pain he’d receive at the princess’s hand. Then, what Vaeolet had said truly sank in.
“Oh no. No, no, no.” I wrung my eyes with the palms of my hands. “You cannot be talking about this crock of a prophecy again.” I stood up, flinging my hands into the air, strangling the scream of frustration rising in my lungs. I whirled on the older woman, pointing my finger at her, as I whispered through gritted teeth, “I am NOT some sort of savior. I’m just an ordinary faerie girl, making the best she can of a horrible situation.”
I turned away and felt a rush of amusement, pride, and affection flow from Vaeolet. “Really, Jesaela? If you were just an ordinary girl, why did you promise to free Glyran’s people, and the other races? Could an ordinary girl accomplish such a task?”
I saw the smirk on her face and was about to retort when I realized she was right…technically. I had promised Glyran, promised to try to find the keys and end their bondage, but that was nothing to do with this damned prophecy. Was it?
I stalked into the living area and slumped down into one of the armchairs. Vaeolet followed and settled gracefully onto a facing leather sofa. She stayed silent, giving me the time to go through it all in my head, which currently had a herd of unicorn riding roughshod through it.
It couldn’t be, could it? I stared down at the floor, resting my elbows on my knees. It was impossible. They were all crazy, weren’t they? I sat still for a long moment, trying to reinforce the denial the sensible side of my brain told me was the right way to think.
Then the other side started talking, the side that always got me in trouble, the part of me that warred with the blossoming adult within me, desperate to retain whatever scrap of mischievous child it could. I began to put it all together: the prophecy, finding the dragon, and listening to the rhyme. My heart lurched again at the memory of the dead beast’s body, at the fact that I had led them there, had broken some sort of magical barrier when I’d raced headlong down that pitch-black corridor, running away from the singing dark figure with the lantern.
Realization hit me like an unexpected branch. The dark figure had paused at the entrance, had actually looked down it, looked down at me! He’d driven me there, had known I’d be terrified of discovery and punishment so had used his song and the lantern to herd me in the direction he needed me to go. He’d used me to break the barrier!
Another flash of realization blasted into clarity. I’d seen and felt the dark presence more than once after that. The next time had been in the cavern with the princess, its hissing voice stinging my ears. The next had been inside Vaeolet’s head, within the memory of her escape, moments earlier but centuries ago. This—darkness, dark being, whatever it was—it was one and the same.
My head spun, and if I’d been standing up I’m sure I’d have collapsed.
Two soft, warm hands took mine in hers. “Are you alright, Jesaela?” Vaeolet’s voice and emotions were full of concern. “You look ill. Is there something I can get you? A glass of water…yes, water will do the trick.”
She made to rise from where she knelt before me, but I grasped her hands. “Jes…my friends call me Jes.”
She smiled, and warmth enveloped me, the emotion flowing directly into me, like a stream of love. “Thank you, Jes. Yes…I like that. It suits you, girl.” She rose to her feet, dragging me up along with her and into the bedroom. “But if we don’t get you washed and dressed for supper, Alwyn will have my ears.”
I chuckled inwardly as I caught an errant thought that suggested just what might happen if Alwyn, king or not, got on the wrong side of Vaeolet’s temper.
“Oh, and as we’re now doing the whole friend thing, call me Vae,” she said.
Vae. It was the name her mother had used. “I’m honored to meet you, Vae.” And I was.
She smiled, and it reached her blue eyes and made them shine. She raised a hand to caress my cheek. “You have such a long journey ahead, Jes, but let’s start by preparing you for the first step.” I caught the essence of melancholy before she shut the emotion down and smiled again before turning.
She walked to the bathroom, and I heard water running. I followed her into the room to find a huge bath, unlike anything I had seen before. It was a huge shell, from some sort of sea creature I couldn’t imagine. The evening light reflected off its pearlescent surface. It was beautiful. Scented steam rose as twin streams of water, one hot and one cold, mixed with the oils Vae added.
“Come here, girl.” The skin around her eyes creased as she ran—or attempted to, at least —her fingers through my hair. “I seem to have my work cut out for me, and little time to perform the miracles required,” she said, smirking.
I undressed, the feeling of freedom as the rough material slid off my shoulders causing a shiver of exhilaration to pass through me. Even better was when Vae lifted the coarse garment off the floor, holding it between thumb and forefinger as she wrinkled her nose, turning to me.
“Would you like me to…take care of this?”
I laughed then gasped in pleasure as I slipped into the luxurious bubbles atop the piping hot water. “Oh, please. Feel free to take care of that in any manner you deem appropriate.”
She nodded, and I grinned widely as she threw it into the air where it disappeared in a flicker of golden flame. “Oops.” She winked at me and I giggled.
Once she had me washed, scrubbed, and oiled from head to toe, Vae wrapped my velveteen skin in a luxurious robe, sat me in front of a beautiful, oyster shell–framed mirror, and proceeded to comb and braid my hair. As the sun set on the western horizon, the shafts of amber gold light speared through the curtains, and the sound of the surf combined with the fresh aromas to lull me into drowsiness. My eyes grew heavy and my chin drooped. The songs of beings I had never encountered met my ears. Beneath heavy-lidded eyes I thought I saw people in the water—dozens, no, hundreds of them. They were singing, and the sound was as wonderful as anything I’d ever heard.
I teetered on the edge of a dream. I could stay here forever, I thought.
BANG! The door flew open, slamming against the wall, and Lyssa strutted in.
Maker! My heart shriveled into my chest as I startled instantly awake, the song dying in my ears. I looked at the large bed. There was enough of a gap to crawl under it…to escape her, just for a moment.
Lyssa was dressed in a shimmering gown of diaphanous green silk, her hair gathered up into an elaborate style that accentuated her long, graceful neck. She was beautiful…until she opened her mouth. Her tone was as sweet as saccharine.
“Why, Jes, what have these people done to you?” she crooned as she crossed to look at me closer. “This hairstyle is much too fancy for one so simply featured as you.” She rounded on Vaeolet, who stood midway between me and the wardrobe, a gossamer gown of light blue satin detailed with intricate lace panels in her arms. “And she is simply NOT wearing that! Here, I brought you something.” She threw one of the plain robes onto the bed. “Put that on, and here…let me fix your hair.” She raised her hands toward me, and I felt her eagerness to grab my hair and yank it free from the clasps Vae had arranged it with.
“Get…out.” The voice was barely a whisper… a voice I hadn’t heard before, even though it came from Vaeolet’s lips. It was cold, cutting…and deadly.
“What did you say to me?” Lyssa turned to Vaeolet, acknowledging her presence as if she were a simple servant, an inconvenience to be stepped on like an insect. I saw her arrogance last barely a second as the cousin to the king of the Star Isles fixed her with an adamant
ine stare. The princess tried her best to resume her haughty attitude, but I heard the tremor in her voice, even as she took a step back toward the door.
Vaeolet’s eyes shone with a fury I never expected her capable of, and her expression matched the raw anger I felt in her mind. It slammed into me, an echo of what Lyssa had done. Up until now, Vaeolet hadn’t mentioned my missing wings, but the person who had mutilated me was now in front of her. I actually felt a little sorry for the princess…a very little bit.
“How dare you,” Lyssa stammered. “Do you know who—”
“I said, get out, little girl.” Vaeolet smiled as she said it, but not one shred of warmth reached her eyes. She projected the little girl. I saw her fists clench.
“You…you can’t talk to me like this,” Lyssa whined. “I…I’m your guest.” To her credit, the princess managed an indignant expression, but stopped short when she tried to straighten her shoulders and puff out her scantily clad chest.
Vae crossed to stand between Lyssa and me. “Guest or not, if you threaten my friend again, I will fry that pretty little bun off your head.”
Lyssa’s face paled, and I was sure I caught her bottom lip quivering.
Vaeolet didn’t stop there. “Our king”—I saw the barb hit home as Lyssa’s face flushed—“has asked that all guests attend this gala supper…in finery.” She swept her hand over the plain off-white robe on the bed where Lyssa had thrown it. “But if you consider this a fitting gown for one of your party to wear…” It disappeared in a brief blaze of flame. I gaped. The white coverlet showed no sign of any heat damage. The control Vae possessed was…staggering.
Then it was all I could do not to burst out laughing. Lyssa’s gown was gone and she wore the plain, homespun dress. She looked down, aghast, but clearly terrified of Vaeolet.
“Now…get out before I throw you out.” It was a hiss between clenched teeth, but it had the desired effect.
Lyssa turned tail, clearly willing herself not to run.
“And close the door, if you wouldn’t mind, my dear.” I stifled a belly laugh. I doubted anyone had dared to call the princess that in decades.
The door slammed shut in a final, completely childish, act of defiance, and I turned to Vae, about to burst into laughter. She’d been amazing—the first person I’d ever seen stand up to the little brat—but she staggered, grasping the post of the bed to stop from collapsing, ashen faced, to the floor. I ran to her, putting a supportive arm under hers.
“Come on,” I softly murmured, “Sit down on the bed. Are…are you ok?” I felt sick to my stomach. Vae’s emotions were in turmoil. Fear…no, terror, threatened to overcome her, like she teetered on the precipice of a pit of the deepest, darkest black.
‘Come back to me, Vae.’
Vaeolet started upright, her eyes widening, and a gasp escaped her lips as she raised a hand to her mouth.
I took her other hand, squeezing tight enough she winced. ‘Come back to me. Tell me what you saw…what you felt.’
“You…you can talk to my mind?” Vae bolted upright, pulling her hand from mine. “And can you read minds as well?” Shutters flew down around Vae’s thoughts. I didn’t need my ability to know she was scared.
“Not fully, no,” I said quietly. “I feel emotions…anger, fear, happiness.” I tried a smile, to no effect. Vae’s eyes were still wide. “Sometimes, when I’m close to a person, I can see through them, into their thoughts and memories.” I didn’t know how much to tell her, how much I could risk, without ruining the tentative trust we’d built. “When you were telling the story earlier, I saw…I saw your mother fight something. Some sort of darkness.” Vae’s eyes widened even farther, so far I thought they might pop out of their sockets. I stretched my palms out in front of me. “It’s not something I can control, Vae. I…I’ve only possessed the ability for a few months. I…I’m sorry if you think I intruded.”
I bowed my head. I had ruined everything. This woman, who had been willing to confront Lyssa on my behalf, hated me. I fought back a sob. I tried to rush past her to the bathroom, but she caught my arm and spun me into a hard embrace.
“Thank the Maker…it’s true,” she sobbed, but then knelt on the ground before me.
What was she doing?
Vaeolet shook her head, looking up at me with a tear-streaked face. “You saw my mother?”
The question slammed into me. I didn’t know how old Vae had been at the time, but she’d been young, I was certain. How much did she really, consciously remember?
I nodded. “I saw her save your life. She ran at the darkness with a shining sword.” My voice trembled. “She held it at bay long enough for you and over a dozen others to escape through the tunnel.”
A chink appeared in the armor she had erected around her mind, and I knew why she’d withdrawn into herself, behind the barriers. She was terrified. She’d had nightmares about her mother’s death for years after it had happened, but over the centuries had managed to repress them. Now, my admission had brought it all back into crystal clarity, and the vision, coupled with her encounter with Lyssa…
It was as if our minds connected.
“Your little princess has a sickness, Jes…the darkness we’ve both seen grows within her.”
If I didn’t know before, I knew it now. This…darkness, or whatever it was, was inside Lyssa.
“How…how do we fight it?” I asked. “I mean, it’s ancient. I don’t know how I know, but I’m certain it’s been here since before the birth of this world.”
Vae rose, stiffer than I’d seen her move so far. She smiled grimly at me. “I need to talk to Alwyn and the others.” I wanted to protest but she put up a hand. “Later, child. For now, let’s start by getting through the next few hours, shall we?” And just like that, Vae was gone, replaced by the bossy, brash Vaeolet. “Now, girl. Let’s get you ready for battle.” Her smile met mine in the mirror. I tried my best to smile back, but the ghost of the memory chilled my blood.
Yes, let’s get through the next few hours. Then, perhaps, I can get some answers.
Chapter Eight
The Challenge
I didn’t know what to expect as Vae ushered me along. We passed other members of Alwyn’s court, each and every one of them greeting me with a smile and a brightness of cheer, so much so that when we arrived at the mouth to a long, downward-sloping corridor I felt high on emotion. The walk down the gentle slope wasn’t dark, as the walls glowed with star-speckled illumination. Tiny gemstones—thousands of them—were embedded in the walls and twinkled in an intricate pattern that seemed to echo the movement of the waves in the bay outside. When we eventually arrived at our destination I gasped. It was a cave, but to use such a mundane word to describe it was a crime against the Maker himself.
It wasn’t that it was that big a space, barely a hundred feet across, with the ceiling around half that at its apex. No, it was the crystals. They were everywhere, illuminating the room with a multi-hued cacophony of color, and although hewn from the mountains surrounding the bay, the space teemed with life. The turquoise and cobalt stalagmites rippled with their own internal pulse, each pointed surface encrusted with a thousand facets, their different shades subtle enough that when glanced at, it seemed to be one single color. However, when you examined them closely, the thousand eyes looked back, each color, each voice unique.
The cave was home to dozens of tiny birds who flitted from one perch to another, their voices raised in a song that gave my heart its own set of wings to soar among them.
Some of the larger outcroppings met their brothers and sisters hanging down from the ceiling, rising up from the ground to form pillars that reminded me of spring saplings in the forest of my home. My breath caught in my chest, a sliver of bitterness biting my heart at the life I had lost, but then the light and life the crystals and the birds gave to the room filled a gap in my heart I had ignored for weeks. It felt so familiar, and the stones sang their welcome as I took in the large round table of richly polished oa
k sitting at its center.
It appeared I was early. A single figure stood with his back to me, a brilliant, fire-plumed bird perched on his outstretched arm.
I felt a slight pressure in the small of my back and experienced a brief panic as retreating footsteps told me Vae was gone and I was alone with this person.
His wide shoulders, clad in white cotton tucked into dark green trousers and black boots, shook with mirth as the bird cackled the ending of a particularly crude joke, one I’d heard before when working as a maid in the kitchens of the queen’s court, helping my mother. The guards had eaten there, and their stories, tales, and jokes brought about as many tears to my eyes as the smoke from the wide stone hearth.
“No matter how many times Ember tells that joke, I can’t help but laugh,” said Talyn, grinning as he turned to me.
Oh, Maker, help me, he was…
No! I was not going there, even as I could feel my face flush and the blood in my veins threatened to reveal my feelings in bright letters on my forehead.
“Ember?” I made a brief, pitiful attempt to divert the conversation away from the course my gut wrenched me toward. It was awful. Talyn’s eyes sparkled. Damn! It was like looking into the sea at sunset.
“Yes, they do that, don’t they?” The bird, Ember, turned her head to me, taunting, seeing deep into my soul. She knew, even if I didn’t yet, how I felt about the young lord. She cocked her head toward Talyn. “For a two leg, this one’s eyes have an overabundance of power.” The bird chuckled, the sound wonderfully musical, before fixing me with a stare. “As do yours.”
“Shut up, Em.” Talyn said with a smile, oblivious to it all. I didn’t know whether to hate him or swoon with relief. “She’s not used to—” He halted. His thoughts betrayed him. I was an outsider, an alien and unknown. “Strangers,” he finished.
Damn. I forced a breath. “What is she?” I shook my head to try and banish the funk brought on by my misbehaving emotions, turning to face the bird and bowing my head. “Sorry…I didn’t mean that. It’s just…I don’t know what you are?”
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