by Alex Temples
“The stone gives the right to rule. It was brought from Agharti, the land beneath, forged with the power of earth.” She clarified, her voice soft and deadly.
I nodded, lowering my eyes, and that seemed to satisfy her, because she nodded at Tristan to continue.
“The second object is the Spear of Lugh, no battle was ever won against it or the warrior who carried it. It was brought from Avalon, air it’s element.” His eyes met mine, and I remembered our visit to Avalon, the land where my mother was born. For some reason, my cheeks were burning.
Lupita noted this, glancing from me to Tristan and back again. She sighed as if we were lost to her and shook her head, picking up where Tristan had left off.
“Nuada’s sword of light, from Cibola, a land forged by fire, is the third treasure. It represents the power of the king and the sacrifice of leadership and allows no one to escape once it is drawn.” Her eyes flashed briefly, full of purple fire. I shivered. I wondered if Lupita’s element was fire.
All the fae were tied to a particular element, bourne of the royal house from which they descended. I remembered Aiden telling me this. He and Tristan owned fire. They’d been raised by Aelwen, queen of the fae, and my apparent grandmother, whose element was air, but it was their father’s element that claimed them. Did that mean my element was air? I tucked the thought aside, eager to hear what the fourth treasure was.
Lupita’s eyes had dimmed to a soft purple that could have almost passed as mortal. Just almost. She looked at me to gauge my thoughts, but I kept my face carefully blank, waiting patiently. I caught a fleeting look of what might have been approval in her eyes before it was gone and she rambled on, fully warmed up to the telling of it now.
“The fourth and final object is the Cauldron of Dagda, sometimes called the Cauldron of Plenty. It’s element of course is water. It is perhaps the most undervalued of the treasures, as it claims not the ability to draw the blood of thy enemies, nor the power to rule over them, but rather it represents our obligation to care for our families and those under our protection. It is said to never run dry, always nourishing those who drink from it. It comes from Atlantis, the great city beneath the water and it teaches perhaps the most valuable lesson of them all, but to use it you must know that you are worthy of it, and you must ask for what is needed.”
She paused a moment, considering me, and having seen what she needed, continued. “Some believe that Dagda’s Cauldron will restore life to those who have fallen, but no one has ever witnessed this.”
I shivered, suddenly cold. Raising the dead was worth more than any of the other object’s powers in my opinion. Part of me felt the wrongness of it, but another part of me had blazed to life at the thought of an object that had the power to bring my father back to life.
I frowned and pushed the thought away. It was just a rumor anyhow, a ridiculous one. I’d seen fae magic, had practiced it myself, and while I accepted the existence of magic, I recognized that everything had limits. Magic was simple, almost explainable by science. The magic I’d learned involved being able to pull energy from the sun and use it how I wished. If you thought about it, humans already used nature’s energy. Magic was simply a more powerful and immediate way of using the energy nature, via our sun, provided. Returning people from the dead sounded like something humans had written into the story decades later.
“Well,” Tristan started. “Now that we’ve covered the basics, perhaps we can get back to why the dark fae would be seeking the four treasures. Lupita, do you have any ideas?” He asked, staring expectantly at the older fae, his golden eyebrows raised in question.
I turned to Lupita expectantly. Her lips turned up, showing her teeth and she said casually. “I imagine Gethin, or Evrei believe if they possess the four treasures, they’ll have no need to finish tearing down the wall to take Aelwen’s power and gain control.”
I grimaced at her words and turned to Tristan, who had a similar expression on his face.
“I thought only the magic of the Keepers was powerful enough to affect the wall?” I asked.
Lupita tilted her head, an almost lupine movement, as she considered my words. It was a very odd thing to see a fae do. I tried not to shudder and was glad when she began speaking again.
“Keeper magic is powerful, because two strains of magic mixing together always take the strongest elements of each and uses it to forge something better, the same way that some metals are made stronger my mixing elements. The four treasures were born from true magic, goddess-bourne magic, and there is nothing more powerful than that. It is more precious for its rarity, for there are few places you find goddess magic anymore.”
Her look was wistful, her voice somewhere far off and I wondered how old she was, how much of fae history she’d seen firsthand.
I nodded my understanding. “How do we keep Evrei from using the objects against us?”
Tristan glanced over at me, a solemn expression on his face. We both turned back to Lupita, who took her sweet time answering.
“Ah, dearie, this is quite a problem. I suggest you find the treasures before the dark rider does. One object in his hands, and you could probably still defeat him with your Keeper magic, two would be quite a challenge, but it has been done once, and any more than that…” her voice trailed off.
We sat in a sort of stunned silence at the implication of her words. Tristan’s hand settled onto my knee and he squeezed it gently.
Lupita noted this without saying anything.
“You know the answer to the question you ask, Brinmar Yates.” Lupita pronounced. “Do what must be done.”
Her eyes were old and wise, and something that looked an awful lot like weariness had crept into her expression. “We knew we wouldn’t have peace with the dark ones forever. This moment has been a long time coming.” She said.
Do what must be done. That could be interpreted a million different ways, but I was pretty sure I understood what she wanted me to do.
I picked up the rough parchment and promptly tore it in half, letting the pieces float to the floor as I stood. As the first curls of paper landed on the floor, the glass windows surrounding us shattered inward, spraying fragments all around us.
What had I done?
Chapter Four
Sparkling shards of glass, glittered like crystals as they rained down upon us. The wind whipped through the room, stirring up stacks of aged papers that swirled in the air as if caught in a dozen miniature tornados. From the ragged holes where windows once existed, dark figures jumped the impossible distance from ledge to floor. Their heavy, black boots hit the hardwood, sending loud claps like lightning echoing across the room.
We were under attack.
Instinctively, the three of us, Tristan, Lupita, and I, turned back-to-back, spinning to face our attackers. There were four of them and just three of us.
A flash of purple to our right and then a loud cracking sound followed by the groan of metal tearing through wood as one of the enormous bookcases broke loose from the wall and began to tip.
“They’re using dark magic!” Tristan shouted over the noise. He raised a hand and white light shot out of his palm, streaking across the room to smash into one of the dark fae.
The tall, stocky Asian man with shoulder-length hair and tattoos winding up both forearms grunted and doubled over as Tristan’s magic hit him. The room reverberated with sound as the floor shook from the impact of the fallen bookcase.
Grateful for the view afforded by our position, I scanned the room, noting only three fae. Where in the world had the other one gone? Over my right shoulder stood a tall, thin woman with blonde hair and green eyes. I didn’t have time to consider her further, as a large man with long dark hair and a scar across one cheek appeared directly in front of me.
Gethin. The dark ride was here.
My stomach churned. He was our biggest threat.
The blonde woman slunk forward, moving like a cat circling its’ prey. Lupita muttered a short incantation an
d threw a blue fireball at her.
The woman shrieked as the spell hit her in the chest, coating her in a sheet of glimmering magic. She clawed at herself trying to get it off. I hadn’t seen this sort of magic before, and Lupita had just reached an entirely different level of terrifying in my mind.
A red streak soared toward us. I drew my magic into my core and let it blast out of my open palm just in time to deflect Gethin’s attack.
He raised his arm again and threw more magic at me. I ducked to the side as the angry red fire sailed past me.
I was completely out of my depth, but it looked like Gethin was up to me. To my right, Tristan was fighting the tattooed man, who hadn’t taken long to recover from his last attack. Lupita was likewise occupied with the green-eyed woman. After the fire, she’d hit her with a second spell that had her down on the floor wailing in pain.
Gethin smiled at me. His hawk-like nose and black eyes made him look like a bird of prey. He walked slowly towards me, anticipation gleaming in his eyes. I pulled my dagger out of my belt and rounded to face him, my chin turned up in defiance. I might not match him when it came to throwing magic around, but after years of fencing lessons, I could take him with something sharp and pointy.
His smile stretched wider at the sight of the dagger in my hand. Laughter danced in the depths of his eyes.
“Brinmar. You don’t learn lessons easily, child.” He hissed softly, only a couple feet away from me now. Dark eyes glowed with a hint of red. I felt the power hovering around him. He was darkness. His power pulsed in the air around us, sucking the light like a void. He raised one dark eyebrow in amusement.
“Mortal weapons, today?” He asked, pulling back his black cloak and yanking a thick, silver knife from its’ sheath. “Very well, I’ll play.”
I leapt forward, thrusting for his belly and hit only air as he moved deftly to the side, circling on me like a cat, the silver sword cutting through the air next to me.
It went on like that for a few minutes. I attacked and his sword met mine. It seemed he wasn’t really trying to get at me, just to keep me busy. Suspicious, I glanced around to see Tristan still going toe to toe with the tattooed man near the back of the long room. Lupita was nowhere to be seen. The female fae lay unconscious on the ground by a glass exhibit case.
“Why are you here?” I asked angrily, sidestepping one of his half-hearted swipes and slowly backing towards the entrance to The Long Room. I heard noise in the direction of the stairs and suspected that was where the missing fae had headed.
Gethin laughed. Instantly, I understood why all the bad guys in Hollywood movies laughed when facing off with the hero. His laughter chilled me. Somewhere in the background an alarm began blaring.
“You rejected my lord’s offer of a truce, Brinmar.” He said. He moved languidly, apparently unconcerned with my repeated attempts to impale him. “I applaud your decision.” His eyes burned with malice as he sneered at me. “I have never appreciated diplomacy. I much prefer blood. Unfortunately, the flame of Ciblola is not ready to end you, so here we stand.” There was a note of question in his voice that sparked my curiosity.
The flame of Cibola? That had to be Evrei. I knew I shouldn’t provoke the beast, but I couldn’t help myself. My eyes met his and I sneered.
“And you answer to Evrei Bane of Cibola? I thought the Dark Rider of Dagda answered to no one, but death himself?” I taunted.
Gethin’s eyes flashed and his lip curled. His arm came out of nowhere. I leapt to the side a moment too late, and his sword cut a deep gash in my shoulder. I muffled a grunt, unwilling to give him the pleasure of hearing me cry out in pain. Hot blood gushed from the wound and I stumbled to the side.
Lupita shouted from the stairwell and I turned in time to see her running after the missing fae.
Suddenly, Gethin was gone, chasing after a lumbering male fae with long blonde hair. I recognized Agfad from my last adventure with Tristan. It seemed every time Tristan appeared with a message for me, we ended up fighting dark fae.
Agfad cradled something as he ran. Lupita sprinted after him, throwing purple daggers. Boy, if it wasn’t eerie to watch someone who looked to be in their seventies sprinting after the bad guy, I didn’t know what was.
The man fighting Tristan abandoned his post and took off after the others. Tristan spun to follow him, catching a glimpse of me as he did. He changed course, moving toward me with a look of concern. Lupita was still throwing magic after the dark fae, but it was too late. They leapt towards the gaping holes, magic aiding them as they scaled the walls with ease, slipping out the windows and vanishing into the sunrise.
The room around us was destroyed. Broken wood littered the floor. Fragments of books fluttered through the air, swirling down to land in the pile of debris resting at our feet. I gritted my teeth as a wave of nausea washed over me.
Shit. My shoulder was killing me. It throbbed with white hot pain. I forced myself to look down and see how bad it was. The cut had gone through the shoulder of my blouse and looked to be a few inches deep, cutting into the soft flesh directly below my collarbone. A steady stream of blood flowed from it. Yep, that was gonna need stiches.
“You’re injured.” Lupita said, appearing at my side. Her glasses were gone and most of her hair had escaped from her bun. She took off her sweater and pressed it to my wound.
I sucked in a ragged breath, biting my lip to keep from yelling.
“Brin. My gods. Are you alright?” Tristan’s asked, his hand settling on my uninjured shoulder.
He frowned at Lupita. “How bad is it?” He directed this question to her, not waiting for me to reply to his first one.
I was grateful to not have to answer as my vision began growing fuzzy around the edges.
“It’s not arterial, but it’s very deep and she needs a healer - fae or mortal, but quickly.” Lupita peeked under the sweater, which was now saturated with my blood. Her frown deepened. “I’m not a healer, but I can slow the bleeding until you get her to someone. You must leave as soon as possible.”
Tristan nodded grimly.
Lupita lifted the fabric over my wound once more and began chanting. Her palm hovered over my injured flesh and my skin warmed as her magic took. I began to feel lightheaded. Tristan must have sensed this, because he caught me under the arms as I staggered forward.
“Thanks.” I mumbled, steadying myself. Lupita finished chanting and released me.
Tristan turned to Lupita, a question in his eyes.
“They got away with what they were looking for?” He asked.
Lupita nodded. “They were after several texts. I was able to save this one.”
She stooped and picked up a stack of papers I’d assumed were just more refuse from the destroyed bookcases.
“The good book was taken, but they also wanted this one. Perhaps you can uncover why, but you both must leave now. The authorities will be here any moment. I’ll clean up a bit and tell them the men who broke into the library took both texts.”
Lupita had lost some of the fae wildness I’d seen in her after battle and the fussy old librarian glamour she wore so well was sliding back over her features. I shook my head in confusion as Lupita’s face began to get fuzzy around the edges.
Something must be wrong with my vision.
“Tristan, she doesn’t look well. Go.” Lupita said sharply, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture.
Tristan glanced at me and make a sound of agreement.
“Brin, hang in there. You’ve lost a lot of blood, but you’re going to be okay.” He sounded concerned.
I tried to focus on his face, but I was suddenly so tired. I leaned silently into him, clutching his forearm with both hands as if it were a walking stick.
I listened as they exchanged more words, and then Lupita passed the bundle of paper to Tristan. He tucked them inside his jacket with the arm he wasn’t using to hold me up. I sighed as he pulled me closer and whispered a few words. A wave of magic washed over us like a splas
h of cool water and the darkness swallowed me.
Chapter Five
“Hold her still.” A calm, feminine voice demanded.
Where am I?
“I’m trying to hold her still. She’s a lot stronger than she looks.” A deep voice replied.
I felt pressure on my right arm as it sunk into a cushiony surface, strong hands holding me tight so I couldn’t move.
Fear shot through me as I remembered the last place I’d been.
Gethin’s and the dark fae.
Panicked by the thought that they’d somehow captured me, I pulled on the power I had spindled inside and threw energy into the people holding me.
There was a grunt of surprise and the man let go, shouting in pain. The woman still held me, but her grip wasn’t firm. I yanked my arm from her grasp and jerked into an upright position. The cloth covering my eyes dropped and I saw I was on a plane in a very well-upholstered seat.
Whoops. Not dark fae.
Tristan sat on the floor to my left, cradling his arm. Nia, one of my other fae friends, crouched before me holding a green potion in one hand. She extended her arm and pressed a wet cloth to my wounded shoulder, flashing me an amused smile.
“Top of the morning, Brin. I’d ask how you’re feeling, but after seeing you throw Tristan to the ground I take it my potions are working.” Her crisp, English accent always threw me off. She was a tiny woman with a petite figure, delicate features and light brown skin. She wore her black hair long, with the top half pinned back in a conservative fashion. Her striking green eyes and flowered silk dresses did a good job of drawing attention away from her sleekly defined muscles and almost feline movements.
Most people didn’t look further than the well-groomed hair and the gentle smile, but if there was one thing I’d learned from my recent dealings with the fae, it was to never rely solely on first impressions. Nia sat on the royal council, one of Queen Aelwen’s closest advisors. She was ancient, skilled and as dangerous as fae came. Luckily, she was also on our side
