by Julia Crane
The taller one stepped forward and started moving around the pile of rocks. The stones were huge and must have weighed a ton, but he tossed them around like they were baseballs. A large wooden door was revealed piece by piece—heavy, dark mahogany with black iron studs and an old-fashioned handle. The dark faery wrapped the hem of his black T-shirt around one hand and gave the black handle a good yank. The door creaked open.
The faery grabbed me by the arm and jerked me to my feet. “Down the stairs.”
A creepy stone staircase wound into the bowels of the earth, twisting into darkness. The steps were worn and dirty, the rock walls smooth but covered in cobwebs. Fear coursed through my veins as the faeries forced me to go first.
The air became cooler the deeper we walked, and it smelled musty and old. We passed intermittent torches, lit but not brightly, giving the narrow chamber an eerie glow. Each step felt like I was descending to my death.
At the end of the stairs was a long, confining hallway: a sort of underground tunnel of abrupt turns and dizzying twists. The walls pressed down on me. I wasn’t a fan of small spaces, and the fact that the faery thugs kept jerking me around didn’t help me any. We walked for so long that my feet began to ache, and I silently pleaded for the path to end.
A huge, intricately carved wooden door waited at the end of the tunnel—there was nowhere to run. I tried to put on a brave face, but I knew it was hopeless. All I wanted to do was crawl into the corner and cry. The entire situation was so absurd and unfair. What did I do to deserve this?
The door opened into a large, brilliantly lit room. Sunlight poured in from a ceiling made of glass, and living, green vines ran up the stone walls as if reaching towards the light. Somehow, even though we went down the stairs and through underground tunnels, we were aboveground again.
As we walked further into the room, a tall, rail-thin figure stepped out of the shadows. His hair was jet-black, and his eyes a deep, dark brown. His wings stood tall and proud behind him, inky and sparkling with edges that appeared frayed. He peered down at me with narrowed eyes from a craggy, unattractive face.
“She’s an Aurorian faery?” he boomed.
“She does bear the birthmark,” the shorter faery answered, his voice cracking slightly as if he were intimidated by the new man.
“I wonder at her ability.” He tapped his finger to his lip as he walked in a circle around me. One of his wings brushed gently across my arm, and I shivered—it was the first time I’d felt another faery’s wings. It was weird.
He leaned in so close that I could feel his breath on my skin. Strong fingers pinched my cheeks, and he turned my head to the left. With his other hand, he ran his long, skinny fingers over my birthmark. Then he poked at it like it was a button and something was going to turn on. “You bear the mark. What is your name?”
I didn’t answer.
He grabbed me by the hair, and I let out a shriek. The man asked again, his words slow and enunciated. “What is your name?”
“Rylie.” My voice came out a squeak, and I flushed from head to toe. I wanted to appear strong and brave, not as if I were ready to melt into a puddle at his feet.
“That’s a human name.” He frowned. “What is your faery name?”
I squinted at him, wishing I could say something angry, and muttered, “Oleander.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t remark on it. “Who are your parents? Your real parents?”
“I only know Azura. She said my father left.”
He let go of me and turned towards the two goons that had brought me here. “Let Varwik know immediately.”
They both bowed, and then scurried off.
Looking me over once more, he said, “She hid you well.”
I didn’t answer. My heart was racing, and my palms were sweaty. Obviously, I wasn’t hidden well enough, or I wouldn’t have been standing in a strange place with people out to kill me.
His gaze was contemplative. Mine was probably furious.
I cleared my throat, uncomfortable beneath his observation. “What do you want from me?”
“I’m not sure yet.” He turned and yelled, “Lena!”
A lady appeared in the doorway as if she had been waiting just outside. I’d know that white-blonde hair anywhere. She was the faery I had seen at the mall.
It all made sense now. She had seen me, seen my birthmark, and told the dark faeries. I could feel the blood draining from my face. This wasn’t good. Her aura and wings were definitely lighter than the others, indicating she wasn’t a dark faery. So that brought up the question…why would a light faery be here?
“Yes?” Her purple and white wings fluttered ever so slightly. Her beauty reminded me of that of an angel—pale skin, pale eyes, ethereal and slight.
“Take her to her room. She needs to get cleaned up before we bring her to Varwik.”
Lena’s blue eyes met mine. She nodded to the man, a movement that was almost a bow, and then grabbed my arm.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked her as she dragged me through the door and down a long hallway. Panic had begun to set in again. The ceilings soared high and the walls were made of huge blocks of stone, impenetrable like a fortress.
“Shut up,” the light faery snapped, shaking my arm.
“No!” I barked, digging my heels into the ground and forcing her to stop. I was fed up with being pushed around; my arm was going to be nothing but bruises by the time the day ended. “I will not shut up. You people grab me from my home and drag me wherever it is we are, and I’m not supposed to ask questions? Now, where am I?”
“Varwik’s castle,” Lena answered, her eyes wide, and just a little impressed, I think.
Varwik. I recognized the name from Azura’s story about the dark faery that made the deal with my father. What was with these people and their strange names? “So, who is Varwik?”
“Why, he is only the most powerful dark faery, of course,” she said, like I was supposed to know who he was.
“Who did I just meet?”
The girl rolled her eyes. “That was Kyro. He’s one of Varwik’s advisors.”
Lena began pulling me along again, her nails digging deep into my skin. Instead of fighting, and probably making myself bleed, I let her.
We came to a stop in front of a doorway. Smiling, she said, “Welcome to your new home. Take a bath and change. There are clothes in the closet. I will come for you later.” Then she pushed me in and slammed the door. I heard the bolt slide into position.
I was locked in.
“Hey! Let me out!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, as I banged on the door. “Do you hear me? My father will track you down. He’s a detective, you know!”
I don’t know how long I pounded on the door and yelled. Eventually, my voice grew hoarse and my hands ached. I fell against the door and slid down the wood until I collapsed into a heap on the floor. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I cried.
When I had no more tears to shed, I stood and found my legs were a little wobbly from all the walking and injuries. I steadied myself with the door. The room was large, but the furniture sparse. A tiny twin bed was in the back left corner with a tan blanket and pillow. I was so tired that it looked inviting.
The walls were bare, and there wasn’t a window in sight. The gray stone made the room look more like a prison than a bedroom. I tentatively walked over to the door in the back of the room. I expected it to be locked, but it swung open when I turned the brass knob. I cautiously peeked inside. It was a bathroom. I was surprised to see a large sunken tub and pretty pink towels hanging on the racks. It was a stark contrast to the bedroom.
The woman did say I needed to clean up. I looked at myself in the mirror and cringed at how grimy I looked from the trek. Dried blood covered my hands, legs, and shoulders. I walked over to the tub, kneeled on the plush, gray carpet in front of it, and turned on the faucet.
Once the tub was full, I tossed off my dirty clothes and slowly lowered myself into the hot water. It felt
wonderful on my aching muscles. I sank beneath until all that emerged was my face, and laid my head back. Closing my eyes, I let images of my parents and friends flood my mind. I thought of my family and how panicked they must be. Sierra must have been concerned when I wasn’t there for her to pick up, and then when I never showed up for school.
I thought of Adam, and my heart felt like it was breaking. What if I never saw him again? I touched the bracelet on my wrist. I hadn’t taken it off since he gave it to me.
The bathroom door flung open. I screamed, shrill and loud, and covered myself with both arms.
“Oh, please. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” Lena smirked. She grabbed my arm again and yanked me from the tub, tossing a towel at me with her other hand. “Enough relaxing. It’s time for your meeting.”
My head whirled. “Meeting?”
“I’ll lay a dress on your bed,” Lena went on, ignoring my question. “Don’t get any bright ideas. I’ll be waiting right outside the door for you.”
“Why are you here?” The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.
Lena turned to face me. “Much like you, I don’t have a choice. Varwik fancies me. He collects things he finds beautiful.”
“You’re here against your will?” My jaw dropped. “But the barriers… How did he get you here?”
“When we enter the human realm, we put ourselves at risk to be taken. It’s my own fault for being naive and thinking nothing would happen to me. Varwik likes the power of having light faeries in his castle.” There was a note of disgust in her voice. “It makes him feel superior.”
“What a jerk,” I said honestly. “How long have you been here?”
“Enough with the questions,” Lena snapped. I dove right out of sympathy and into annoyance at her tone. “Get dressed and hurry up. He doesn’t like to wait for anyone.”
I stood with my towel, gently patting myself dry, and watched as she walked back into the bedroom. She went to the closet and yanked out a formal, pale yellow dress with a long, gauzy train. She threw it on the bed and silently walked out the door.
Left alone, I noticed everything I needed was in the bathroom: brushes, perfume, and even items for my hair. Very strange since I was being held captive.
I had a feeling I didn’t want to make this dark faery angry, so I hurried to get ready. The dress was sleeveless with a V-neck, classy and tasteful. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt as if someone else was staring back at me.
The door opened, and Lena called, “Get out here—now.”
I glanced around for shoes, but when I couldn’t find any, I ran out barefoot. For the first time, I felt like a faery.
Lena looked me up and down. “Much better. Varwik will approve.”
She walked quickly, leading me down the massive hallway. I practically had to run to keep up. My mind raced. I had no idea what I was about to walk into, and that scared the hell out of me. I should have let Azura in when she came to me. I should have talked to her. There was so much I didn’t know, and it was my fault. I had been stubborn and selfish, and now I was paying the price.
Lena stopped in front of wooden double doors that filled an entire wall from ceiling to floor. They were unfamiliar, a vivid red that I would have recognized. We must have been in a new part of the fortress.
The doors flung open on their own, and Lena walked forward, her head held high. She carried herself like a queen, with no fear or worry etched on her beautiful face.
Meanwhile, my hands were shaking so hard I had to clasp them in front of me to disguise the tremors.
It appeared to be a dining room. The walls were sky blue, made even brighter by the ever-present skylights that flooded sunlight into the hall. Bushy tropical plants flanked the walls, their scent intoxicating, and a wall of glass doors led out to a private verandah.
The biggest table I had ever seen sat before us, and at its head was a very large faery. He stood gracefully as we walked in. His hair was black as coal, his skin pale, and his face much younger than I had expected. He had the most beautiful black and purple wings, and I wondered how wings that gorgeous could be on such an evil being. He was stunning.
He studied me for a long minute, making no move to come around the table. “Oleander—what an interesting turn of events this has turned out to be.”
He paused, but I had no idea what to say in return. Until recently, I hadn’t known anything about certain “events.”
“I knew your father long ago,” the man continued, stroking his dark goatee with a finger and thumb. “You were aptly named—lovely yet deadly.”
Gritting my teeth at his pretense of familiarity, I said, “Well, I didn’t know him, and I don’t understand any of this.”
“Of course.” The faery inclined his head toward me in acknowledgment. “They hid you well from me.”
“Why am I here?” I demanded.
The faery began a slow stroll around the table as he spoke. “It’s such a rare treat when an Aurorian faery is born. This is a special faery, one with stronger than normal abilities. This child is born with a birthmark, like the one you have.” His gaze lingered on my mark. “When you were born, we made a deal with your father: You for access to our magick, something we knew your father wanted. He was greedy and gladly made the deal. But when we came for you, Azura produced a dead baby and made us believe that baby was hers. That was the end of it until Lena saw you yesterday. She knew immediately who you were and came straight back to me with the news.”
His voice was more pleasant than what I had expected; not evil in the least. Almost mesmerizing. He pulled out a chair, gesturing for me to have a seat, and I lowered myself into it. He returned to the spot across from me and sat, folding his hands on the tabletop.
I swallowed hard. “Why can’t you just let me go? What do you want from me?” I met his cold blue eyes with as much bravado as I could muster. Despite his handsome face and kind demeanor, this was an evil man.
“We want you on our side, of course!” His tone was incredulous. “What better than to have the most powerful faery with us? Just in case we ever go into battle.”
“But I don’t even want to be a faery.” I knew I sounded like a toddler, and frankly, I didn’t care. “I want to go home.”
“What you want and what is reality are often two different things. If you don’t want to join us, I’ll have to kill you. Level the playing field,” he said in a deadly calm voice. “I can’t have the light faeries getting ahold of your ability.”
“My father isn’t even around anymore.” I was grasping at straws. “He can’t get your magick.”
“A deal is a deal. You are ours. If he ever shows his pathetic face again, he can have access to our magick.”
“And if he doesn’t show up again?”
“You’re still ours.”
He obviously had no idea that I was completely harmless. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. For now, it was something I would keep to myself.
“We have been waiting a very long time for your arrival. You are even lovelier than your mother.” Varwik smiled. “My son will be pleased.”
Shock made my hands tense up. “What does your son have to do with me?”
He chuckled. “Oleander, your tone of voice is not appreciated. It would be unwise of you to get on my bad side. You have put me in a very difficult position. Be grateful I haven’t decided to kill you outright.” He paused. “You will marry my son on the autumnal equinox, therefore joining our people. It’s the only way I see out of this quandary. If you marry a dark faery, you cannot use your power against us.”
“What?!” I jumped out of my chair, knocking it over and stumbling away from the table. I banged my knee on the upturned leg, but barely noticed the pain. “I’m only sixteen. I am not marrying anyone!” He couldn’t be serious…could he?
“Sixteen is a common age to marry in our world,” he told me. “I’m sure you will find that my son is not a bad mate.”
/> I looked over at Lena, my eyes wide, hoping for some kind of sign, but she just stared blankly at me. No help from that quarter.
Turning back to Varwik, I seethed. “You can go to hell. I’m not marrying your son or anyone else right now.”
He sighed. “I was afraid we were going to have to do this the hard way.” He turned towards Lena. “Lock her in her room and bring her just enough food to keep her alive.”
As Lena was dragging me away again, I overheard a familiar voice: the man from earlier, when I arrived. The one Lena had called Kyro. He questioned Varwik. “What are you doing with her?”
“She’s been promised to us. Last time I checked, I was in control of this land. If you dare question me again, it will be the last time.”
Back in my room—my cell—I burst into tears.
They couldn’t do this. They couldn’t hold me here and force me to marry someone. Adam. My heart sunk. I loved him, and wanted to marry him. For years, even before we started actually dating, he had been the one. No one could ever replace him. I had always dreamed of our wedding day and the perfect family we would have. All my plans were being ruined because I was born a magickal creature. It was almost laughable.
I walked to the mirror and stared at myself. The tears came harder and faster. “I hate you!” I screamed, slamming my palms to the glass. It cracked beneath my right hand, and I jerked away, blood already welling on my skin—a small, superficial wound.
I wanted to rip the wings out of my back and cut my ears off. Stupid faery world. My body filled with rage, and I lashed out at the mirror again, my fist cracking it right down the middle.
“Damn!” I yelled as pain soared through my hand. This wound was worse; a nasty-looking cut that oozed bright red. I yanked a towel off its hook and wrapped it around my hand. Feeling defeated, I walked over to the bed and curled up in a ball on the covers.
I must have fallen asleep for a little while. When my eyes finally opened, I had no idea how long I’d dozed since there weren’t any clocks or windows to tell. I lay there and stared at the ceiling, letting my mind wander.
