by Leah Cutter
Why was that fairy running so? What was she saying?
Cornelius watched in horror as the fleeing fairy suddenly dropped to the ground. Arrows protruded from her back.
A fat, ugly dwarf suddenly ran up the path. With his ax, he chopped off the head of the fallen fairy.
Cornelius froze.
What were dwarves doing here? How had they gotten into the kingdom? Why hadn’t the alarm bells sounded?
Too late, all the temple bells started ringing.
Cornelius looked at the cup in his hand, gulped the last of the wine, then took to the air.
It seemed that Sebastian might have been right. The fairies should have left before now.
Hopefully they’d both survive the coming battle so Cornelius could apologize.
The loud knocking startled Nora, abruptly waking her.
Christ. What time was it?
She straightened up, stretching her back. She’d been hunched over the book of traps for…hours, it appeared, given how dark the world looked outside her window. After talking with Dale, she’d come back to the dorm, wrapped herself in blankets and snuggled up on her bed, reading.
Had she been trapped by those traps?
Nora shook her head. She’d never heard of such a thing. None of her teachers had ever cautioned her about the spells she might find hidden in texts. Instead, they’d told her that if she could read the spell, she could use it, implying that at her level there would be spells she couldn’t find yet.
The pounding on the door startled her again. She shoved the book under the blankets on her bed. She wasn’t hiding it. Not exactly. But there was something dark about that book. Something that demanded hiding in the shadows, despite all its talk of cheery, sunny gardens.
Nora unbent herself and pushed herself to her feet. “I’m coming!” she called out as she nearly buckled, her legs unwilling to carry her weight. Damn it! Why was she so stiff?
Groaning, Nora made her way to the door. She opened it with a “Yeah?” She was already so over whatever anyone had to say.
Rainy stood in the hallway, looking amused. “Is that how you always answer your door?” she asked.
Nora peered at her teacher. Though she knew Rainy was old—possibly older than her mom—standing there in the hallway of her dorm, her teacher looked as though she attended the college, not taught there. She wore a gray rain cloak that glittered, like a fairy coat. Her curly hair and the dark skin of her cheeks glistened with raindrops. Her normally blue eyes were as gray as the ocean just before a storm.
“Hi,” Nora said awkwardly. She stood in the doorway, not inviting her teacher in. Not because she had anything to hide—though she kind of did—but everyone who visited her room always commented on the mess.
Nora was absolutely not feeling up for chiding. Even teasing. Every nerve felt raw, exposed, as if she’d been living outside her skin all afternoon.
“How is your family doing?” Rainy asked. “Have you heard from them?”
Nora shook her head. If her phone had rung that afternoon, she would have heard it, right?
“Well, I told you I’d stop by later on. See if you wanted to go eat,” Rainy said. She paused, then added, “I think that food would do you good. You should get out of there for a while. We’ll hear something from your mom soon.”
Nora swallowed. Though the thought of going someplace with a lot of people made her skin crawl, she knew that her teacher was probably right.
Just because she hadn’t heard anything from her mom didn’t mean she was in trouble. Hell, she and Dale were probably goofing off in the pool, or taking advantage of the sauna. They weren’t worrying about Nora. Or trying to contact her.
“Yeah, getting some food sounds great,” Nora lied. She honestly wasn’t sure what her stomach could hold. “Just a sec, let me grab my coat. And my phone.”
She left the door to her room open, though she still didn’t invite Rainy inside.
At least her teacher had enough sense to stay in the hallway until Nora was ready to go.
“Pretty strong defenses you have there,” Rainy commented as Nora closed the door, locking it behind her.
“I need them,” Nora said stiffly.
“I know,” Rainy said. “And I’m still trying to figure out a way to get him to stop bothering you.”
The exhaustion and stress of the day barreled down on Nora, making her hunch her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said.
But she knew that whatever Rainy managed, it would be too little, too late.
Nora was the only one who could keep herself safe.
Denise felt as though her head was on a swivel as she tried to take in the entire fairy kingdom while at the same time find where the damned fairies had taken her son.
A wide dome opened up above her. A false sun shone just past the zenith. It felt warm down here, and slightly humid, like the perfect summer day. The air smelled of fertile fields and sweet spring flowers.
Just in front of her stood a white stone fountain. It hadn’t been used for many years. The stone appeared cracked and dusty. Fallen leaves and broken ivy rimmed the edge.
A group of warrior fairies stood at attention at the far end of the fountain.
It took Denise a moment to realize that they surrounded the prone body of her son, lying on the dirt.
A pudgy fairy wearing the brightest yellow robes she’d ever seen stood next to the warriors. He looked sort of like an old fashioned painting of a cherub with his chubby cheeks. Blondish-brown curls surrounded his head. Sparkling yellow streamers hung from his wings.
But the bony ridge that ran down his nose and spread across his forehead marked him as something very different. His eyes had the same gold tint as Cornelius’, however the color looked diluted and pale, like a light summer wine.
“What have you done to my son?” Denise demanded as she walked over to the group.
“Ah, lady, welcome to the Greater Oregon Fairy Kingdom,” the yellow-dressed fairy said, chuckling. “You can call me Sebastian.”
“You can call me the mother,” Denise said stiffly. “You need to release my son. Now.”
Before Sebastian could reply, bells rang out, startling all the fairies. Followed by a loud scream.
Damn it! They were too late!
Half a dozen fairies shot up into the air.
Denise took another step forward and reached out to Sebastian before he could fly off as well.
“Did my son give you his message before you kidnapped him?” Denise asked.
Sebastian looked at Racanta, who shook her head.
“Hundreds of dwarves came ashore yesterday,” Denise said.
Absolute shock washed over Sebastian’s face.
“My son came here to warn you,” Denise added bitterly. “And this is how you treat him.”
“Wake him,” Sebastian ordered, pointing at Racanta. “Then you and your son must come with me,” he continued, turning and addressing Denise.
“Can’t we just leave?” Denise asked, pointing to the opening she’d just come through.
“No,” Sebastian said. “Even though it’s only been a day, the dwarves will be prepared. There will be a dozen or so up at the top of all the major exits, waiting to pick off those who escape the slaughter down here.”
Dale suddenly sat up. Denise rushed over to him and knelt down beside him. “So we’re trapped?” she asked Sebastian as she helped her son stand.
Sebastian snorted. “Surely you don’t think that humans were the only ones to originate the concept of priest holes, do you?”
“What?” Denise asked. She had no idea what the fairy was talking about.
“I am the head priest of Anabnus, the sun god,” Sebastian said, pulling himself up straighter. “I promised you safe passage. I will personally see to it that you escape. Alive.”
“You better,” Dale muttered, shaking his head. “Or my sister will string you all up.”
Sebastian seemed to consider that for a moment, tilting his hea
d to the side. “What you say may be so,” he said. “But I will do all that I can to ensure she won’t have to.”
“Thank you,” Denise said.
A deep wump sounded just to the right of them, making them all jump.
“What was that?” Dale asked, looking at Denise.
“Sounded like mortar fire,” Denise said.
“Explosives, yes,” Sebastian said. He grinned suddenly, showing all his sharp, pointed teeth. “The dwarves are meeting resistance.”
Denise wasn’t sure what exactly that meant. But before she could ask, Sebastian said, “Hold my hand. The only way to get out of here safely is via an exit that the fairies rarely use and that hopefully the dwarves don’t know about.”
Hesitatingly, Denise reached out to touch Sebastian. The priest’s hand was bigger than she’d expected. It didn’t feel like she was holding a child’s hand, but rather, a young man’s.
The skin also burned with an inner fire that worried Denise.
Softly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, Denise started to rise in the air with Sebastian.
“Wha—what are we doing? Where are we going?” Denise said, twisting around to see that Racanta was holding onto Dale and was rising with him.
“I told you,” Sebastian said dourly. “We’re taking you to a priest hole.”
“And what if there are dwarves waiting for us on the surface?” Denise asked, turning back to look at the priest. He barely flapped his wings, though they were now steadily moving through the air.
He shrugged. Grinned. “Then the dwarves will die.”
Edeline savagely bit at Percy’s neck while her hard claws raked along his ribs. They fell, not flew, from the tree branch they’d both been sitting on, rapidly racing toward the ground.
Idiot had never learned how to fight and fly. He howled like a wounded cat and struggled to get away.
Percy finally seemed to realize that Edeline was serious about injuring him. He pulled back and hit her temple with a hard fist, breaking her grip.
Edeline let him go, laughing as he steadied himself in the air. “You’ll never be king,” she taunted as she flew at him.
“What are you doing?” Percy asked as he turned and flew away. “Are you insane?” he threw over his shoulder.
What fool of a fairy turned their back on an attacker?
Really, this battle was going to be too easy.
Edeline reached out with her claws and shredded the top right section of Percy’s wings.
He dropped suddenly, screaming, before he finally managed to right himself and fly back toward her. “I will be king,” he told her, his hands out, ready to attack.
“You won’t live long enough,” Edeline told him as she evaded his swiping hands. She pivoted and kicked out, as Thirza had taught her.
Bam. Another solid strike, but too low, only against Percy’s legs. She hadn’t hit as high as she’d wanted to, hadn’t damaged his knees or struck his groin.
This was the problem with being so short! She couldn’t assume that anyone was her size.
Percy finally seemed to have caught a clue. He didn’t turn his back on her again but levitated backward. “You don’t have to do this,” he told her seriously.
Edeline merely rolled her eyes at him. He sounded like one of the boring old fairies they’d left behind in the kingdom.
“We could rule together!” he said.
As if.
When Edeline married, it would be to a fairy who was worthy of being king.
Not a spoiled idiot like Percy.
“Okay, you asked for it,” Percy said grimly. He suddenly flew at her, moving much faster than she’d thought he could. She dropped abruptly, just missing his clawing hands.
Ha!
Edeline pivoted and kicked again, summersaulting as she reached to grapple with her enemy again.
This time she snagged him, with both claws piercing his shoulders. She head-butted him, ramming their bony ridges against each other.
She was going to have a massive headache after this, but he was going to be in much worse shape.
Percy struggled and Edeline released one hand from his shoulder, finally squeezing her claws around his neck.
He froze.
She could tear out his jugular with just a twitch of her fingers.
“Stop! Wait! What are you doing?” Floyd asked as he flew up.
Edeline had never seen a fairy’s eyes grow so wide. “Back off,” she told him. “This isn’t your fight.”
Suddenly, Thirza flew up beside Floyd. “What happened?” she said.
Edeline sniffed. She kept most of her attention focused on the enemy at hand, namely, Percy. She would not be distracted. “He cannot be king,” she said softly.
“I…I will renounce my claim,” Percy stammered.
She felt him swallow down the rest of his pride.
“You will renounce your claim forever?” she asked. “Never to challenge my claim again?”
“Never’s an awfully long time,” Floyd complained.
Edeline tightened her grip on Percy’s throat, making him squeak. Then she turned her head and glared at Floyd. “Just watch it,” she said. “Or you’re next.”
Floyd paled.
Just as she thought. Cowards. Both of them. No idea how to fight or how to lead.
“You will renounce your claim forever,” Edeline told Percy, turning her attention back to the fairy at hand.
Percy blinked. Gave a tiny nod. “I will renounce my claim to the throne forever,” he said weakly.
Edeline knew that he lied. He’d challenge her authority sooner or later.
Hopefully, the fool knew better than to do it right away. No, he’d wait until they were settled. Comfortable.
“I will hold you to your word,” Edeline said as she released her grip on Percy’s neck.
Percy floated backwards. He put one bloodied hand on his throat, swallowed and nodded.
They both knew he’d challenge her again. However, Edeline was convinced that she’d beat him every time.
Ivan did not cheer when the bard died, the one who’d written about Ivan’s soft stomach. He was too busy fighting his way through a group of lanky fairies.
His group of dwarves had been lucky so far—running into workers in the palace and very few warriors.
Seemed their luck had just run out.
A damned pack of tall, skinny, well-dressed fairies now attacked. Royals as they called themselves. A new caste that merely proved how decadent the fairies had grown since coming to the New World. Would have been better off learning how to fight instead of learning how to drink tea.
Still, the one irritating female fairy who screamed like a banshee proved to be a hearty opponent. All on her own she’d managed to corner Ivan and his warriors. They couldn’t get past her, not without her throwing glittering magic rope that sliced apart whatever it touched.
This was not how this raid was supposed to go.
Ivan and his troops were supposed to flow through the entire kingdom. He was certain that other groups had already made it out of the palace and were racing through the kingdom, only fighting those who got in their way.
The idea was to spread terror across every inch of the underground space. To make sure the fairies realized there wasn’t anywhere that they could feel safe.
Ivan and his group certainly were not supposed to be engaged in a protracted battle with a whining royal.
No. In, smash and rout, then out.
Finally, one of the dwarves standing next to Ivan threw his ax accurately, making it through the female fairy’s defenses. It landed with a solid thwack in the center of her chest and stayed there.
Ivan raced forward, prepared to strike her again. Fairies were notoriously hard to kill.
But she fell back on the floor, dead already.
Ivan spat on the corpse as he raced by. The one who’d made the lucky shot retrieved his ax and followed closely behind Ivan.
Stupid
fairies really were as decadent and diminished as Kostya had claimed, if a single ax blow took down one of the royals.
“Onward, brave warriors!” Ivan called, raising his ax high so the dwarves might see it. “Chase them through the streets! Through the fields! Out into the open!”
A mighty roar answered him.
As Ivan left the room, he glanced down at the bard, who’d been fighting at the front of the group.
Funny, a single blow had felled him as well. His throat had been torn open by a lucky hit from one of the fairies.
No great loss, but why had he died so easily? With such a slight wound?
Chapter 7
Nora held the bowl of garlicky chicken soup up close to her nose and deeply inhaled. The steam warmed her cheeks, thawed out the ice that had formed in her chest.
She sat across from Rainy in a hard wooden booth, her elbows resting on an equally hard, red-plastic table. Though the restaurant was a local chain, at least it wasn’t playing irritating muzak at ear-splitting levels. The corner that Rainy had found them wasn’t lit obnoxiously bright, either.
Nora would have to remember that this place served a comforting bowl of soup, if nothing else. The bread was supposedly sourdough, though all Nora tasted was the chemicals it was made from. Plus, “toasted” evidently meant rock hard with black sear marks on one side.
Rainy let Nora eat in silence, sipping her own soup (a tomato-basil that Nora was going to have to try sometime, just based on the smell).
However, Nora anticipation ate away at the small island of peace that she’d finally managed to build.
“Flori called me,” Rainy finally admitted when Nora had taken her last sip of the wonderful soup.
Nora’s ready anger flared. “Why didn’t you warn me about her?” Nora asked. “And those disgusting ants?”
Rainy seemed startled. “You saw the ants?” she asked.
Nora nodded. Wasn’t she supposed to see them?
Rainy peered at Nora for a moment. “You have much more power than I originally thought, if you could see Flori’s nest.”
Nora pressed her lips together and didn’t say anything. She had no way of judging her magical ability. All the people who were supposed to teach her had been killed or driven away by Brett during the five years after Nora had come to her power.
