"Again?" I squirted water onto an old log with a spray bottle, then shook my wrist. We'd been working with decomposition and essential minerals every night since I met with Orin two days ago, and I worried I was developing tendinitis. "You know, it's bizarre to hear a faerie complain about their hatred for trees."
"I don't hate trees. I hate how many there are." Delano swished his hand over the damp log. The darkness rippled and a ring of white mushrooms popped to the surface. "I'm eager for the drought to dry my territory into a tinderbox so I can torch it."
I pointed my flashlight at the canopy, the old cedar boughs hanging like tattered lace. "I think they're stunning."
"They're unnatural. When Lydia joined the territory during the Gold Rush, she managed 50 to 75 trees per acre. Now there are 400 to 1,000! I'm forced to deal with super fires due to all this excess fuel growth, depleted soil nutrients, and garbled magic signals. All because humans fear wildfires and losing their precious properties." It came out pwecious pwopahtees. He kicked a pinecone. "I swear, if Smokey the Bear ever steps foot on my territory, I'm punching him in the face."
I laughed, spraying farther down the log. "You're in a mood."
"The Earth's chatty tonight," Delano said, opening and closing his hand like a mouth. I strained to listen, hearing only insects chirring in the weeds. "The faeries are disrespecting the Earth, as always, and it's junking my frequency. Probably bored consulate guards trying to overpower my drought or make it warmer."
"Can they?" I asked.
"Maybe if enough team up, but it won't last. They'll never end the drought without killing me."
"What a horrible thought."
He laughed, his hand hovering over the moisture. "Horrible? Why, think of the perks! A vast collection of worn housewares and dank stone can be all yours, in your very own hole—"
"Stop!" I snapped, his brow jumping with my pitch.
"Why are you upset? It was a joke."
I scowled. "The Realm murdering you isn't funny. Knock it off."
Delano stared at me with that expression of discovering magic. "But. We're not. You haven't. I mean—" He exhaled a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "I … I'm sorry. I take it back. You're stuck with me for centuries." His eyebrows perked. He grinned slowly, his eyes twinkling like starlight. "And the whole time I shall flirt and tease you, ogle your body, and relentlessly try to seduce you until you cave beneath my charm and beg me to satisfy you. Better?"
I glanced at the branches, fighting a smile. "Yes. I think."
"Anyway, I'm too heavy of a magical safeguard," Delano said. "With me, the Earth can force its will, darkshine or not. Fortunately, I mostly have free rein, and it doesn't force me often. It also wouldn't be so bad if not for these damn trees. They act like magical antennae. Too many weaken my abilities because there's only me, but the faeries strengthen since their signals intensify within the area." I looked at him, confused. Delano shrugged. "Basically, faerie magic is flooding the airwaves." A ring of mushrooms popped beneath his palm. "I suspect this is why taletellers weaved Save the Tree campaigns into the human narrative. Humans buckled down to preserve the forests, and now I suffer the consequences."
I sprayed the log, wrist twinging. "I guess we can ease up on care-taking since you'll burn down the forest, anyway."
"Mmm, nice try," Delano said, smirking. "Healthy forests need to burn. Many of my territory's plants can't reproduce without fire. Low intensity flames nourish soil, kill disease, create habitat, encourage stronger trees…" He detailed the benefits of low-intensity fire for ten minutes, then grumbled about a super fire's unnaturally high heat for five.
"How long until the forest burns?" I asked.
"Whenever the Earth decides."
"Then a lightning strike?"
"I prefer cigarettes or gasoline."
I blinked. "Seriously?"
"Sure. Humans become incensed if a smoker or an arsonist torches their beloved forests. I enjoy the media drama."
"Del! That's terrible!"
He laughed. "I provide a service. Humans love feeling self-righteous, and my territory will burn regardless."
"Yeah, but—"
The night rippled; its whispers scratched as if someone shoved a record off track. Delano dropped to a crouch, snarling. My spray bottle and flashlight toppled, casting spiderish shadows along fallen branches. The coyote leapt to our side, ears and tail erect.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Bavol invaded my territory." Delano swayed to an invisible song, then bellowed as if announcing the crime of the century: "The jackass is driving through!"
I chased Delano as he flew the half-mile to our car, an early 90s BMW 325i parked off a Forest Service road. We had bought it for cheap because the heater and air conditioner were busted, the gray paint was sun stained and peeling, and no matter how much we scrubbed, the steering wheel always felt sticky. The stereo, however, was brand new, and blasted Linkin Park's One Step Closer as the Beemer joggled along dirt roads, bouncing us in tan leather seats. Delano gunned it when we hit gravel, the rear fishtailing, and cranked it to 80MPH when he found blacktop. The night's energy increased. Delano drove white-knuckled, ranting for thirty minutes about what he intended to inflict on Bavol's body.
"What's the big deal?" I asked as Breaking Benjamin's Dance with the Devil neared its end. The brakes squeaked on a curve. The palm tree shaped air-freshener swayed. "Maybe he just needs something from town."
"Then he should've had it shipped or asked permission," Delano snapped. "There's a reason we—"
A silent explosion erupted. The night violently shuddered, but no tree quivered. Delano slammed on the brakes. The BMW fishtailed to a stop in the middle of the road. The energies rippled outward, vibrating like a constant note of a violin string.
"Uh, what happened?" I asked.
"A bloodline mother went into labor."
My jaw dropped. "Another potential darkling?" My excitement vanished. "Crap. Bavol's prisoner."
Delano's eyes narrowed. Insects danced in the headlights as the engine rumbled. He then slammed the Beemer into reverse and spun around.
"What are you doing?" I said, gripping the dashboard as we sped back the way we came.
Delano rubbed his temple. "The energies are chasing each other toward the consulate, meaning the mother somehow escaped and the Realm is involved."
"So you'll pummel a darkling for invading your space, but won't help if they're under attack?"
"Bavol can handle his own mess."
"You always lecture about darkling loyalty, and now you abandon a darkling?"
"Loyalty to the darkshine, their partners, and to Earth."
"But helping darklings is helping Earth." My chest tightened. I realized I'd deserted my student identity to school my mentor. How did that happen?
"This is different." Delano's twitching eye squeezed shut. "Bavol isn't supposed to be on my territory. And he knows to not intervene or make deals with rebels!"
"But that baby is going to get hurt!" I cried. Rumors whispered darklings and changelings weren't the Realm's only threat now. All predetermined bloodlines were subjected to removal. Like what the Realm did to Delano, and what they tried to do to me. My heart hammered. My skin felt ready to jump from my bones. I feared the potential future awaiting the mother and baby, centuries of slave labor because of their DNA. And no one willing to stand up for them.
"Didn't the darklings refuse to help you with me because they were too butt-hurt having their territories invaded?"
Delano spared me a glare. "Maybe."
"Darklings haven't grown in decades because of the Realm's interference! How can you declare loyalty to the darkshine and Earth when you won't grow the needed darklings? The Realm will destroy us, everyone, unless we finally unite and help each other!"
"Mmm. This from the woman refusing to join the darkshine herself?"
My heart blistered. I'd worked relentlessly assisting him with his darkling duties, and hated feeling like a hypocr
ite. Even though I was. "I'm still helping. A lot. And I help because I don't want Earth to spiral into chaos so the Realm can rape its riches until everything is suffering or dead. Do you? Because that's what will happen if we only focus on care-taking and not help each other!"
Seether's Rise Above This thrummed the speakers. Delano slammed on the brakes; the Beemer screeched as it spun around. "Fine! But keep your magic usage to a minimum. The last thing we need is you accidentally taking the darkshine amid a fight."
We raced after the energies zipping toward the Realm's consulate. We were about twenty miles away. My stomach flopped on a turn. Hot rubber permeated the air. We're gonna make it, I thought, clenching the handle over the window, and hoping Bavol would succeed in recapturing the mother before we arrived.
We ditched the car behind a vacant cabin rental a mile from the consulate, then flew on darkness the rest of the way. The vibrating note erupted into a chorus, announcing a preordained, future darkling had entered the world. Delano cursed and ranted. The consulate's exquisite log walls and mirrored windows appeared beneath us. My skin crawled. Nausea gripped as I relived my time inside, when Raina had deceived me, and I almost lost Orin, Delano, and my freedom beneath the prick of a tattoo-needle.
The open front entrance blared light. Two sniffers stood on the doorstep, conversing too intently to notice us a hundred feet overhead. Delano and I flew to the woods outside the consulate's perimeter gate. We hid in the shadows, staring straight at the large wood gate set into the massive stone wall. The guard tensed and peered into the forest, probably sensing our magic usage. We ducked behind a low granite outcropping as he magically blasted a white flare to illuminate the woods.
My fists pressed against my eyes as light dissipated to darkness. Thinking about reentering those looming walls worsened my nausea. Please let everything resolve away from here. Please let Bavol get the baby away so we can avoid a fight.
Screeeeeeech!
We peeked around the outcropping. An enormous SUV barreled up the road into view. A Gulf War era Humvee tailed tightly behind, its headlights illuminating the SUV's deflated airbag flapping from the window. The consulate guard scrambled to open the gate. The SUV swerved for the entrance, its rear glass shattered, its mangled bumper scraping pavement and spraying sparks.
The Humvee rammed the SUV through the gate, almost crushing the guard. A woman screamed. The Humvee roared after, slams and screams and crumpling metal filling the night.
Delano and I bounded onto the air and followed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
History is on our side. Maybe fate, too, if such a thing exists. The Earth had sensed the mother birthing, as if anticipating the child's birthright. I hoped that counted for more than an ancient government decree.
Delano and I flew into the consulate undetected. Everyone was too focused on the beige Humvee blaring its horn and ramming the SUV forward in froggy lurches. A side-mirror struck a tree and exploded while branches smacked and scraped its paint. The SUV's rear bumper dug ruts into the forest trail. How is that vehicle still operable? I thought, astounded.
Ahead, the trail opened onto a large clearing. Two enormous stones delineated the Realm gateway like tombstones for twin giants.
"Do not let anyone through the gate," Delano said. "If an alert gets through, border sentries will attack."
The Humvee fell back as the SUV reached the clearing. For a split-second I thought the Humvee abandoned the chase, then its engine roared and exhaust billowed. The Humvee struck the SUV's hindquarter full force. Crunk-Screee! The SUV circled onto two wheels, then toppled onto its side.
The SUV's driver-door opened. The Humvee kicked up dirt and pine needles as it circled back, its wheels channeling the clearing. A male faerie shouldering a black medic bag toppled out of the SUV, his forehead gushing blood. He yanked open the back door. Sobs stabbed the air as a hand grasped his forearm.
We landed twenty feet from the SUV. The Humvee screeched to a halt beside us.
"I see you're joining the fun," our neighbor told Delano, grinning out his window.
"Might as well since I'm hosting," Delano growled.
"Like you should complain about trespassers," Bavol said with a laugh.
The medic clenched his bag, his trembling making me suspect he'd never fought in his life, and if we hurried we'd escape without more violence. The Humvee spotlighted two women clambering from the wreckage. One was gloved, dressed in black, and who I assumed was a midwife. The mother, dressed only in a T-shirt, sagged against her, panting, clutching a thick, floral comforter to her chest. Blood drenched her legs. Sweat glued dark hair to her face. She looked pale and exhausted and ready to collapse … then sprinted for the Realm's gateway.
Bavol bolted from the Humvee in an inky cloud. Our darkling neighbor was not what I expected. Shaven head, round face, heavily tattooed, carmine boxer shorts. His raggedy, brown and yellow striped bathrobe ballooned out as he dove and struck the mother's neck. The medic gaped, quaking, as the mother collapsed, her body shielding her bundle. Bavol lunged for the comforter. A scorching light struck his head, flipped him backward. Bavol wheeled on his knees, snarling. A sniffer landed and blasted heat as Bavol blasted windchill. Their magic collided and they both ricocheted into the trees.
A second sniffer in their typical cinnamon uniform landed near the cowering mother, knife drawn. My stomach leapt into my throat. Stay calm. Don't panic. Two darklings are on our side.
Bavol lurched to his feet at the tree-line; Second Sniffer charged. Darkness surged around Bavol, then collapsed and surged to Delano, who blasted the medic sprinting for the gate, knocking him unconscious against the ground. Bavol roared, materializing in Delano's face as Second Sniffer toppled through his dissipating shadows.
"Stop hogging the energy!" Bavol yelled.
"It's my energy!" Delano yelled back.
"You're supp—Shit!"
Chickadees darted for the gate. Magic smoked upwards like a reverse-waterfall; several chickadees froze in midair. The midwife bolted through a downpour of feathered bodies. Delano snatched her and disappeared in a puff of night. First Sniffer's whip cracked; light exploded, creating floaters in my eyesight. Bavol wrestled First Sniffer amid heat and shadow, his darkling magic shuddering as if on a weak circuit. An engine grumbled from the consulate path. The mother clutched her bundle to her chest and scrambled the last ten feet for the Realm.
I sprung as if on a trampoline of shadow. I dove and snatched the comforter. The mother shrieked; the newborn tugged, wailing. Its umbilical cord was still attached, the placenta not passed from the womb.
"No! No!" the mother wailed. "My baby! My daughter! No! Please!"
Every cell in me froze. The umbilical cord pulsed against a tiny stomach. Oh my God. What am I doing?
A whip cracked. Another chick-a-dee-dee-dee zipped overhead. My vision tunneled on the mother's bloodshot eyes, her matted hair, the red-faced newborn wailing in my arms. I flushed hot with mortification as reality became clearer than ideology, and realized my feelings about saving darklings were vastly different from what needed to be done.
"I-I-I'm sorry," I stammered. The newborn squirmed, its pointed ears like delicate petals. "I-I—"
"Rip it free!" Bavol screamed from the tree-line. His eyes bugged, his curled lips exposing his gums. First Sniffer twitched in his headlock, gilded in ice.
My guts wormed. This is the neighbor I wanted to befriend?
"Kill them!"
My thoughts became static—hissing, scratching, brain and body refusing to connect. Raina hung off the side of a water truck trundling toward us, dressed in turquoise silk pajamas, looking as beautiful and toxic as an oleander flower. Her sage eyes smoldered. Half a dozen guards flanked her advance on foot. I hadn't seen the Earth ambassador responsible for nearly enslaving me in a dark mining pit since escaping in January. Raina generally hid in her darkling proof bunker after nightfall. When she did venture out, guards and sniffers whizzed around her like psychopathic e
lectrons.
A boot slammed my hip. "Ungh!" I collapsed and the baby fell into her mother's arms. A blonde sniffer raised his whip. Delano rushed him on a stream of frigid darkness. The sniffer dodged. I scrambled. The sniffer kicked me to my stomach, raised his whip above my tattoo wings. Delano blasted the sniffer into the SUV as the mother staggered past and vanished with her baby into the Realm.
"No!" Bavol screamed, dropping a frozen corpse. "Do you know what you've done?" Bavol shot me with magic. Delano lunged, absorbed the strike. His body rammed mine, and we tumbled through the gateway.
I felt a falling up sensation as we flew into the Realm; my nerves quivered as if instincts warned I was actively stalked. Delano disappeared into light as if shoved through a shredder, his clothing falling on the threshold.
My palms and knees smacked warm pavement; faint geometric shapes patterned my hands, a shade lighter than my skin. I gaped at the daylight world, unblinking despite the brightness. Instincts screamed at me to escape through the gate, warned me that the mother racing toward the pink and white stone wall encompassing the paved yard, a hundred feet away, threatened danger, insisted those towers weren't designed for maidens to drop their hair. But my eyes transfixed on the sky, the forested hills jutting against the horizon, the air shimmering like dragonfly wings. I inhaled scents exotic yet familiar, like springtime and spices and honeycomb, and aromas I experienced only in fleeting memories. When I exhaled, the Realm breathed me, as if we shared an eternal kiss.
Distantly, gear rattled, men shouted, the mother wailed.
A breeze brushed my face and I wept. It was the breath of beauty and divinity, the zephyr of a million flapping butterfly wings, their colors stowed inside the air, unseen with my eyes, but experienced through a secret gland inside my chest. If Earth had a color wheel, the Realm had a color sphere, hues tucked within hues, giving a multi-dimensional, otherworldly quality. Colors weren't just seen, but also felt, as if emotional bursts were slipped into the shades. Visually, the sky was a brilliant, electrifying blue, but empathically it was spellbinding. It was the blue of summer love and teenage laughter believing it would live forever. My eyes didn't gaze at the sky; my entire essence embraced it.
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