by Alana Grerig
***
Caleb regained consciousness. The first thing he noticed was that his chest was burned. Trying to get up, he saw that Bobby was close by. Reaching out a hand, he tugged gently on the unicorn’s tail, leaving a bloody smear in his wake. Bobby turned and gazed at Caleb.
He addressed the unicorn, “I know you understand me, and right now I need your help. We must get to the summerhouse that the Fae girl was screaming about, Eve is in great danger.” Nodding his head, Bobby folded his legs beneath himself, allowing Caleb to climb onto his back. Moaning as blood oozed from the wound on his chest, he grabbed a handful of mane. Just as Bobby was about to leap forward into the trees, a voice shaking with fear called to them.
“Please don’t leave me. The Miscurt said he would be back, and he hasn’t returned. I can take you to the summer house, just please don’t leave me here alone,” the girl sobbed, covering her face with her hands. Caleb really wanted to find Eve, and the girl could be of some use in finding her.
“Come on then, but quickly; we haven’t a moment to lose. I just pray the Goddess is looking down on us all tonight,” he said as Bobby walked over to the sobbing Fairy. In no time, she was up behind Caleb, holding his shoulders as they raced through the night towards the summerhouse.
“My name is Freya; it is not far to the summerhouse,” she sniffed. Caleb was not interested in exchanging pleasantries with her. All his thoughts were consumed with Eve. He needed to find her.
***
Grimmer arrived back at the fortress of darkness moments later; he had cut it fine to get out of the summerhouse, but it had been worth it. The look on the Miscurts face as he laid eyes on him had been worth almost getting run through for.
Walking briskly from the portal chamber, Grimmer headed for his master’s quarters. He could feel his chest swell with pride; his master was going to be pleased. Entering the tower, Grimmer dropped to one knee.
“Master, I come with the news you have be waiting for. The elf is dead, as is the witch,” Grimmer proclaimed, eyes still on the marble floor. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his scarred visage. Nimayaorin rose from his throne and approached his most prized minion. Could it be true? he thought as he swept across the marble floor.
“I hope you are not lying to me, Grimmer,” Nimayaorin cautioned, his tone indicating that to do so would not end well for the demon before him. Reaching down, he put a claw under Glimmer’s chin and forced the demon to look at him.
Grimmer felt the Claw pierce his skin and his black blood seep from the wound. Knowing that showing fear would only encourage his master to hurt him further, he reached into his pouch and removed his orb, holding it aloft for inspection.
“Master, here is my orb. I placed a spell upon it so as to capture images of my elimination of the Elf.” Glimmer’s words were strained and slightly slurred, as he did not wish for the Claw to puncture all the way into his mouth. That would take days to heal and make eating most difficult.
Taking the orb and mercifully removing his now blood-soaked claw from his servant’s skin, Nimayaorin slithered over to his larger orb and muttered an incantation. Moments later, the orb was filled with images of the elf girl convulsing and bleeding on the ground. Her pain gave him immense pleasure. The prophecy could not come to pass once this girl was dead.
Nimayaorin turned to the large windows that overlooked the pits and laughed. The sound grew louder, echoing off the vaulted ceiling. Opening the windows, he continued to laugh, the slaves in the pits cowering at the manic sound.
“Hear me! Your light carrier is dead! Nothing can save you now,” Nimayaorin shouted down to his slaves. As expected, a cry of deep sorrow rose from the pits as the damned souls below realised their fate was sealed. Smiling maniacally, his scarlet eyes shining, Nimayaorin closed the window and turned back to Grimmer. “As your reward, go to the cells and have your fill of any creature you wish.”
The demon did not need telling twice. There was a vampire down there whose blood he was sure, by the smell of her, would be most palatable. Thanking his master, he rose and left the room.
Nimayaorin returned to his throne, the smile still set on his monstrous face. Soon all the realms would fall to the darkness, one by one, swallowed by the void, and he would be Emperor of them all.
Chapter Thirteen
Jericho thought his lungs might burst. The pain from running with Eve in his arms was taking its toll. He could have sobbed when the silver gates of the castle came into view. Like the park, these, too, were open. Glad that he would not have to wait for admittance, he dashed through. Ahead of him was a bridge. He crossed it unchallenged, taking no time to look into the moat and glimpse the Mer-people frolicking in the clear moonlit waters. Reaching the huge silver doors, he placed Eve gently down, and with all his strength he banged on the ornate surface until a guard opened it.
“Please! My friend was attacked by a demon; she needs a healer!” Jericho exclaimed, already bending to pick Eve up. The guard was about to decline, but then he saw the girl in the Miscurts arms. Eyes wide, he stepped back and pulled the door open further.
“Follow me. I will take you to the royal healer,” the guard replied, already walking briskly ahead of Jericho to open the door to the left of the grand staircase. Not needing further encouragement, as every second counted, he followed the guard. Eve was looking dangerously close to death. If it wasn’t for her shallow breathing, Jericho would have believed she already was.
“Una, are you in there? We are in need of your skills this very minute!” The guard called as he knocked on the door of what Jericho assumed was the healer’s quarters. The door opened to reveal a young fairy with bright red hair. She was beautiful. Blue butterfly wings adorned her eyes. Seeing Eve, she stepped back and gestured for Jericho to enter.
“Lay her down on the bed,” Una instructed. She then turned back to the guard.
“You must inform the King and Queen. Go now; I will do what I can for her.” After closing the door on the retreating guard, Una moved quickly towards Eve and her Miscurt protector. Running her hands over Eve’s still form, she asked several questions that Jericho did his best to answer, though, he had not been present when the attack took place. He described the convulsions and pointed out the dried blood on Eve’s cheeks.
“Please, you must help her; this girl simply cannot be allowed to die.” Jericho pleaded, pulling on his ears, tears pooling in his eyes. Una promised she would do all she could for Eve and then immediately began using her healing magic on the elf.
An hour passed, and Eve was still no closer to being well again. Una feared that she had been poisoned, and without the identity of the concoction it would take days to find the antidote. Eve did not have days, she had hours.
***
Caleb, Freya, and Bobby arrived at the summer house, only to discover the doors wide open and blood all over the floor. Caleb was distraught. Where were they, and whose blood was all over the floor? Pacing up and down outside the empty house, he winced as his wounds continued to bleed. Feeling light-headed, he slumped to the ground. Freya seemed to have calmed now that she was no longer alone. On seeing Caleb fall to the ground, she rushed to his side.
“You are hurt,” she stated. This got her a withering look from the witch. Placing her hands over the wound, Freya closed her eyes. Caleb was surprised to feel a tingling in his chest as the skin healed. Within moments, his chest looked perfect again.
“Thank you,” Caleb said as he got to his feet, still feeling light-headed but no longer in pain, Caleb climbed back onto Bobby’s back and pulled Freya up behind him. Where would they go? he thought, knowing that time was short for one of them - judging by the amount of blood on the floor.
“The castle is where I would go if mortally wounded; the royal healer is the best in all Gloria,” Freya offered. Agreeing that it was the best place to start, they headed in the direction Freya gave Bobby at break-neck speed.
***
Una was exhausted. She had t
ried every spell and herb she could think of just to see if they would have an effect, but nothing was working. Eve’s breathing was now irregular and coming in short, sharp gasps. Jericho had begged, he had pleaded, and he had even threatened the Fae’s life if she did not heal the girl. Una had explained that she was doing all she could. However, it was dark magic that had concocted this poison, and without knowing what she had been given, there was a good chance Eve would die this night.
The door to Una’s room swung open with such force that it hit the wall, knocking three books to the floor and smashing a glass vile of something blue. Into the room strode a man and a woman of middle age. Una saw the couple and dropped a curtsy.
“Your Majesties,” Una murmured and then turned back to the girl. The King and Queen walked to the bed and looked at the elf lying on the primrose sheets. Jericho was immediately on alert; if the King and Queen had come to see Eve, then they must know who she was, and then he remembered that Una had sent the guard to inform them. The King looked over Jericho with a look of disdain. He did not trust the Miscurt race. Primitive was how he thought of them.
“How did you come to be with this elf?” the King asked, his tone slightly suspicious. Trying to stay calm, as insulting the King of the realm would result in him being banished or worse, Jericho answered with as much respect as he could manage, given the situation.
“I have been accompanying the girl and her friend as protection, Your Majesty,” Jericho bit out, adding a bow of respect at the end of his explanation. The King was about to launch into a lecture about how this clearly hadn’t happened, and that this Miscurt should maybe go back to simple guard duty, when his wife touched his arm.
“Now is not the time, Efrin. The girl is mortally ill; we need to save her,” the Queen muttered as she gently squeezed King Efrin’s forearm. Sighing, Efrin nodded his head. Smiling at her husband, she moved to Una’s side and began speaking with her in frantic hushed tones. The two males paced the room. Time was running out, and they both knew it.
***
Though his injuries were severe, Bobby ran as fast as he could. He became a blur of silver- white, streaking through the night like lightning. The castle was not far away, but, to Caleb, it felt like a thousand miles. He was so consumed with shame. Why had he not been able to protect her? Finally, the open gates came into view. Please let her be alright, he thought as Bobby practically flew across the bridge to the main doors.
***
Pain, so much pain. I can hear people around me, but I cannot answer. Jericho is here! But where is here? Eve fought to make sense of the situation she was now in, although the waves of pain made it feel as though every cell of her body was on fire. The demon! What has happened to him, and where is Caleb? Too many questions and so much pain! Eve’s thoughts calmed as she felt the cool hand of someone touch her forehead. For a few blissful moments, that small area felt wonderful.
“She is so hot, though pale like one already dead,” Una muttered as she continued to work on Eve.
I am not dead! Eve wanted to scream, but no sound came from her parched lips. I must stay awake; I have to fight this for as long as I can so that whoever is caring for me can find a cure. Trying to move the very tips of her fingers caused so much pain that Eve thought she would surely pass out.
“She cannot die. Please! There must be more that can be done?” Jericho begged as he paced the room.
“Where is she?!” Caleb shouted as he stumbled into the room, two palace guards hot on his heels. Seeing Eve’s still form, Caleb rushed to her side, this cannot not be happening. Placing his hands over her heart, Caleb grounded himself and drew on the Earth’s power, allowing it to flow into Eve. After a full ten minutes, Caleb was totally spent, and Eve’s condition had not changed.
“It was a valiant attempt, young witch. Sadly, I believe she is beyond all help,” Efrin said as he placed a bejewelled hand on Caleb’s shoulder. Dashing the hot tears from his eyes, Caleb stood and turned to leave. Reaching the door, he turned back, looking at Eve’s face, still so beautiful even close to death.
“There was so much I had to share with her,” he choked out before he fled from the room. Jericho left to find him, knowing that there was nothing more he could do now. Before leaving, he gave instructions that he would return Eve’s body to her mother to see she received the ceremony befitting such a brave woman.
Efrin looked to his Queen. This elf’s death was indeed a terrible tragedy, one that they could not hope to avoid. Una was the best healer they had, but even she was at a loss. Without the poison’s ingredients, there was to be no saving Eve.
“Come, Sophia, let us retire. Una can do no more.” Efrin coaxed his wife away from the dying girl and led her to the door.
“You do know who she is, don’t you?” Queen Sophia asked as she took Efrin’s hand. This elf was the one to save them all, and now she was about to die. This was a dark day for all the realms. Looking down at his beloved wife, Efrin nodded.
“Yes, I know who she is, my love. I fear some hard times are ahead of us all. We should keep the boy away from this wing of the castle.”
Agreeing with her husband that it would do their charge more harm than good to discover the truth, they left the dying elf and the promise of being saved from the darkness and slipped away quietly from the healer’s quarters.
During all this time, Eve had drifted in and out of consciousness. Fragments of the conversation had flitted to her like leaves tumbling on the breeze. She was pleased to have heard Caleb’s voice, yet heartbroken that he was hurting because of her. If only she could wake up. But the fire raged on, her limbs now ablaze. Her very bones felt like they must resemble ashes. They believe I am to die, she thought as another wave of heat coursed through her blood. I will never see my mother again or find my brother. If she had been able to cry, Eve would have sobbed. Lying there, a prisoner in her own body, she gave into the abyss for the final time.
***
While Eve suffered through the early hours, up in a plush suite in the east wing, Eli slept, ignorant of the fact that the world as he knew it was about to end. The King and Queen had not lied to him. No, he had always known he was an elf, that he had been rescued when very young. Although he accepted this, Eli also felt like a fundamental part of himself was missing. Sometimes when he dreamed, as he did now, he would glimpse a small chubby hand reaching for his own. Smiling in his sleep, he rolled over, unaware that the owner of that once chubby hand was dying downstairs.
***
By sunrise, Eve was dead. Caleb was inconsolable and refused to leave his opulent guest chamber. Jericho had been in a heated discussion with Una and King Efrin for over an hour; he needed to return Eve to her mother. Unfortunately, the poison that had been administered to Eve was likely to decompose her body before they reached Hermoria. The King was adamant that the only compromise that could be made was for Eve to be cremated as a warrior would be, and her ashes returned to her mother, along with any special keepsakes and belongings she had with her. Unhappy with this, but knowing that he could not simply take Eve, Jericho agreed. The cremation was to be held at sunset.
The ceremony plans were taking shape. Flowers and silver chairs were being brought to the Queen’s garden. The plan was to row Eve out to the island that sat in the middle of the lake and shoot burning arrows of purple fire onto the pyre. This was to be a warrior’s send off, with the Royal seal of acknowledgment.
Jericho helped with the heavy lifting. Though the Fae could have just used magic to move the heavy logs to the island, they were aware that the Miscurt needed something to do and let him be. While the outdoor arrangements were underway, Eve was being prepared by Queen Sophia and her hand-maidens. They washed her in rose water and dressed her in a beautiful emerald shift that, even in death, made her skin glow and her hair flame with amber fire. The maids wept as they anointed Eve’s skin with oils. They, too, knew who she was and what her passing now meant for all of Orea. The future was to be a dark place, and so th
ey wept as they carried out the last honour they could bestow onto their would-be saviour.
***
Nimayaorin was elated. Oh, how she had suffered! The thought of the Elf trapped, a prisoner in her body, and suffering unimaginable pain, sent shivers down his spine. Grimmer was to be decorated for his instrumental role in the destruction of the light, the only being that could have saved the mewling parasites of Orea from his rule.
Sweeping across his vast chamber, Nimayaorin cast his claws over his orb of sight. His legion of spies should reach Gloria soon, and he intended to have a front row seat for the decimation of that girl’s physical form.
***
Caleb stood at the lake’s edge, tears leaving tracks down his cheeks. Eve was gone and his heart along with her. So many wasted chances, so many opportunities, and now he was out of time. He had seen Eve before she had been taken to the island - how beautiful she had looked. He had kissed her cheek and whispered to her the words he never quite found the right moment to say.
Jericho stood on his left. The Miscurt seemed smaller somehow. He, too, was mourning the loss of a friend. Jericho would not shed tears here. That would be a dishonour to his own race. There would be time for tears later in the privacy of his rooms. They were due to return to Hermoria tomorrow. It was several weeks away, unless they could somehow call Sapphire once outside the magical boundaries of Gloria. As sunset approached, both Caleb and Jericho lamented the loss of a great friend and their freedom.
