I shiver, another shadow flitting on the edge of my vision. “But Kaelen, you said the Fae fought each other. How’s that the fault of the humans?”
For the first time since I’ve met him, Kaelen’s face clouds as he looks over the ruins, his golden eyes stormy. “We Fae have our flaws, Eve. But we are creatures of the Light. It is only through the polluting influence of humanity that the dark is allowed in here, and that has turned Fae against Fae. I might not like Cassina, but our dislike would not border on hatred if not for the influence of the darkness brought by humanity and Hell in our realm.”
I take an involuntary step back, almost frightened of Kaelen, but he sees me and his face clears a little. “That is why I want to strengthen the Veil, Eve. Once that is done and the Darkness is locked out . . . well, we can go about cleaning our own house.”
“And how do you plan on that?”
“Ah,” Kaelen says, gesturing back toward the carriage. “For that, I have something to show you. I hope it’ll help you understand where I’m coming from and why I’m right.”
Chapter 11
Eve
I’m surprised when Kaelen sends his driver back on foot, taking over driving the carriage himself as we plunge deeper into the foreboding forest around old Solaria. We come to the edge of a small lake that looks even more damaged than ancient Solaria, like it’s dead somehow. “What happened here?”
“The first, and thankfully so far, only example of a weapon of mass destruction in Fae history,” Kaelen replies. “The only equivalent I could give you would be a magical germ warfare bomb. It would have been worse, except for what I’m about to show you. Follow me.”
He leads me to a nearby hillock, and along the shore I can see there’s a cleft in the rocks. We go inside, and I’m struck dumb as we enter a chamber that I can only compare to a planetarium. I can feel the rock surrounding me. The chamber’s still cool and almost a little damp, but my eyes tell me I’m back in the middle of the forest, standing where there’s no hillock at all. The only visual sign that something’s different is that there’s a rough outline in the ‘dirt’ I’m standing on that corresponds to the edges of the hillock. “How’s this possible?”
“Magic,” Kaelen explains simply. “Doesn’t the human realm have something like it?”
I shrug, turning back and forth. “Sure, there’s VR, and those 4D game centers that people keep trying to launch, but you can always tell those aren’t real. Visually, though, this place is perfect.”
“The hill’s actually artificial, camouflage for this,” Kaelen says, leading me over to one side of the chamber. He waves his hand, and part of the illusion fades to reveal a rock wall as he presses a spot on the rock. It also dissolves to reveal a beautiful orb. “The Moonstone.”
“It’s . . . it’s like the Sun Crystal?” I ask, but even as I say it, I realize I’m wrong. It’s a perfect column, glowing a soft blue-white that pulses slowly from top to bottom. But even more than that, it truly feels sentient. “It’s . . . calling to me, it seems.”
“It’s the greatest artifact in the Fae realm,” Kaelen replies, his voice reverent. “When the realms were formed, it was a gift from the Sun God to his sister, the Mother of Earth Tree. For eons, she wore it on a necklace, where its light was a beacon and protector to all of her peoples. But when the races divided and the Fae first settled here, she decided to pass it down to her chosen ones. She divided the necklace itself into seven links, one for each of the seven kingdoms, and the gem she left us as her greatest gift.”
“What’s it for?” I ask, resisting the urge to touch it as the orb calls to me urgently.
“Nobody really quite knows. I have been able to unlock some of its abilities, but other than that, there is just the prophecy that in our time of greatest need, the Moonstone will unlock the greatest protector in the Fae realm and make sure we are kept safe. It will prevent us from going down the wrong path.” Kaelen laughs softly. “Like most ancient artifacts, it seems our ancestors liked to spin a bit of drama into their tales.”
“Yeah, I guess it would be simpler if it just said that at this time, it’ll do things A, B, and C if you just do this,” I murmur, blinking as a flash seems to go through my head. “What was that?”
“You’re getting it already?” Kaelen asks. “The Moonstone does like you. The Stone has been active only twice in our history. The first was when it stopped the destruction of Solaria, probably because it wanted to protect its partner, the Sun Crystal. Then, over the past decade or so . . . I’ve been able to see things. Mistakes from the past.”
“Mistakes from the past?” I ask, and Kaelen nods.
“Look into the Moonstone.”
I stare, trying for a whole minute to figure out what he’s talking about, but other than the pulsing line in the orb, there’s nothing. “Uhh, Kaelen, are you sure? I mean, I feel like it’s calling to me, but I can’t—”
“Mother Tree . . . I’m an idiot,” Kaelen says with a soft chuckle, looking at me. “Your bracers and collar. They’re blocking your ability to see the Stone for what it is.”
I feel like slapping my head as well. Of course, I can’t feel anything magical. I’ve gotten so used to the sensation of having a massive stuffed nose and my own powers being restricted that I forget it most of the time. And whatever these bracers are, they’re obviously preventing something even as powerful as the Moonstone from reaching out to me too. “Okay . . . can you help me? These aren’t like the last pair. They’re somehow locked on.”
“Of course,” Kaelen says, gesturing. I lift my arms, and he touches a spot near my wrists, then one on the back of my neck, and I feel invisible locks release. Everything hinges open, and with his help, I remove all three.
It’s glorious. For the first time in days, I don’t feel like I’ve got a head cold, and I can feel the power surge inside me. My fangs even drop a little as the dark power inside me surges along with my light side, and I smile. I run my tongue over my fangs, and I have to admit, it feels sexy. If only Tyler with his incomparable tongue were here right now, he and I could get to some serious snogging. Ah, well, first things first. “That’s much better. Please tell me I can do this more often.”
“We’re going to work on it,” Kaelen assures me, and I can feel his magical aura pressing against mine. He’s understandably on the defensive, but I want to assure him that no matter how powerful my dark side is, it doesn’t mean I’m evil. “For now, though . . . let’s look at the orb again?”
I do, and what I see makes me gasp. The light in the orb pulses, creating an image that slowly comes into focus.
A man, lean and short in stature and with round-framed glasses, but with the unmistakable air of someone who is used to being in charge, sits atop a magnificent horse as he inspects a group of soldiers who look up at him with almost religious deference. His uniform is adorned with a white silk sash, and his chest blazes with various medals and other baubles, bright against the black of his coat. His soldiers are all in khaki, and it takes me a moment to see the red and white flag to realize what I’m looking at.
I don’t understand what he says, but the men all cheer, their faces lit with total adulation. When he finishes his short remarks, the men cry out to the heavens, their screams of ‘Banzai!’ echoing in the still air.
The scene shifts to a city, and I recognize one of the men in the image. He was at the speech before his emperor. His uniform’s no longer pressed and pristine but dusty and battle-worn, with a few small tears that are the product of a long, hard-fought campaign. By his side is a sword that his ancestors have carried for four hundred years, samurai who were ready to serve their Lord unto death itself.
In front of him is a crowd of scared, huddled women and children and some old men, but nobody who’s an obvious threat. Still, the man screams at them as smoke and ash rise in the background and echoes of gunshots fill the air. One of the women, carrying a newborn infant whose black hair and lightly tanned skin look pale and sickly in the d
usty afternoon light, weeps.
The man, his officer’s braid sparkling on his uniform, looks at these pathetic beings, and I can read his face. He doesn’t care. They’re just sub-human. There’s no way they compare to the sublime perfection of his people, his race. He doesn’t care what the ignorant fools across the ocean think, that they’re related, somehow cousins. No, his bloodline descends from those touched by the Sun Goddess Amaterasu herself, not these filthy piggish peasants. Instead of offering pity, he berates them, taunting them in his own language while they look at him stupidly. Of course, they’re stupid. They could never understand the unique beauty of his country. They’re just vermin, these animals.
Finally, one of them has had enough and spits at him, an old man whose face is seamed with a life full of hard memories. It’s a face that has seen an empire fall, a rebellion by Boxers, Imperialists, and Communists fighting, and brutal oppression by Europeans before these men, who look so similar to him and who thousands of years ago borrowed his writing and philosophy to influence their way of thinking, came to do worse than any white-faced European had ever done. The old man had had enough, and with all the strength his seventy-year-old body could muster, he spits at the Japanese officer, cursing him in Mandarin.
The poor excuse for protest doesn’t even get halfway to his boots, but the man doesn’t care. He draws his sword and with no hesitation at all slices the old man in half, gutting him before smiling as the spray of blood splatters his katana and face.
“No!” I cry out, tears streaming down my face. It’s horrible, and before I know it, I’ve reached out and touched the orb.
“Eve, what are you—” Kaelen says, but before he can even complete the question, the blue-white pulsing light flashes around us, and when I can see again, I’m in the dusty scene I just watched.
I look down at myself in shock, recognizing the dirty, streaked with dust and blood-black clothes of the Chinese peasants in the vision. My hands are filthy and tanned, and pain flares in my body. I look up to see the Japanese officer, his gloating face looking up and down the line as he yells at us more.
I look around and realize that I can see Kaelen. He doesn’t look the same. He’s in the body of another old man, but his eyes gleam with the same golden touch that I’ve seen before, and as I look at him more, his face shimmers until I can recognize him, like he’s wearing the old man like a Halloween costume.
Suddenly, I see someone across the street, lifting a rifle from the shadows. I peer more closely, a startled cry coming from my mouth when I see who it is.
It’s Cole. Somehow, even though the eyes are black and not amber, the man with the rifle is my Cole.
Chapter 12
Tyler
“Hi-ho, hi-ho, motherfucker,” Jacob sarcastically gripes as he heaves another rock into the waiting cart. “Only fifty tons to go.”
A whistle sounds out, and the four Fae sigh, walking away from the rock pile and heading over to the lunch area.
“At least they’re feeding us,” Tyler notes as he picks up his bowl of rice and meat stew before heading over to sit down in the scant shade the work site provided. “How’s the hand?”
“It’s healing quickly,” Jacob says, looking at his left little finger. He’d gotten it smashed between two rocks, but thankfully, after checking it out ,Tyler could say the bone wasn’t broken. With his Fae abilities, it’s still stiff, but he’s pretty sure it’ll be okay by this evening. “You know, it looks like you’re picking up a tan. Or is that just dirt ground into your shoulders?”
“Very funny,” Tyler grumbles. “Did you notice Eve with Golden Balls himself?”
“Sure did,” Jacob says, dipping his spoon in and taking a large bite. “Sort of wish we’d followed them. Could have snatched Eve and been out of town before our oh-so-kind benefactor even got back to have some body servant fondle his ego for him.”
Noah joins them, sitting down with a grunt and chuckling. “As appealing as that sounds, Jacob, we all agreed that we will honor Eve’s wishes for the moment.”
“Sure, you keep letting yourself get treated like a plow horse while Tyler and I heave rocks like it’s the Highland Games,” Jacob laments. “Then again, always have thought you looked a lot like a horse’s—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Noah interrupts, blowing him off. “Admit it. It’s better than standing guard duty on the wall of the Vale.”
“Not so sure about that,” Jacob mutters. “Had better sleeping arrangements there.”
“Well, if you really insist, we’ll cuddle you tonight,” Tyler quips, making Noah laugh. “But Noah has a point. And I trust Eve. She’ll appeal to Lightwing about our situation. I’m willing to work—we all are. But we’re soldiers, and we need to protect Eve.”
“And the best way we can protect her at this moment is by not fleeing unless we have to,” Noah adds. “Despite our worries, we cannot do a thing for her sitting in the woods over the border or fleeing for our lives through some woods. So we live with our doubt.”
Tyler nods. They all are, but especially him. He’d grown up in a family that was trying to climb their way up the Lunarian social ranks. He knew how things could be. Noah did as well, but Noah hadn’t been there to hear the vehemence and hatred in Cassina’s voice when she talked about Eve or how much she wanted to take over. When he’d been in the Guard, he’d heard stories, stories that were whispered but never said in the light of day. Stories of those who’d pissed off Cassina disappearing in the night or being found dead under suspicious circumstances. Oh, nothing that could be tied to the throne, of course . . . but suspicious nevertheless.
“Well, I say we figure out a rotation to sneaking up to her room and—” Jacob starts but stops mid-sentence. “Eyes sharp. Cole.”
Tyler looks up, seeing Cole in the lunch line along with some other workers. All of the others are lowborn Fae, and most of them spoke that way, with the harsh accents and guttural tones that were sometimes little more than grunts. At almost any time, they’d start yelling, sounding like they were ready to fight over insults and slights that the four Fae warriors couldn’t even begin to decipher before seemingly forgetting whatever they were going to fight about the next moment. Usually, things were just fine.
This time, though, one of the workers seems to have different plans in mind. “Oy, that’s my bowl, you Northbred idiot!”
Tyler knew that Cole was getting tired of the comments about his appearance and accent. They all were. Lunarians and Solarians had never been all that friendly by Fae standards, but to the lowborn workers, to have not just Lunarians but Lunarians with educated accents in their midst? It was a constant series of jibes and comments.
Cole had caught it the worst though. Jacob hid his accent the way he always did, letting more of his Scottish roots come through. Nobody fucked with Noah for simple size purposes, and Tyler hadn’t said too much. But Cole also carries with him the stature and posture of a noble in his very bones, and these men don’t seem to understand that with that nobility comes a restrained violence at their insults.
“Apologies,” Cole says, and Tyler can feel his anger. “I’ll take this one.”
“Oh, lookit the widdle Prince!” the harasser says, laughing. “Come on, Moon Boy, I was jus’ pullin’ yer leg.”
Cole relaxes a bit, nodding. “Thank you. It’s been a tough day.”
“Oh, I bet it has,” the man says, clapping Cole on the shoulder. “Mind if I sit with you’n?”
“Be our guest,” Cole replies, even though Tyler can still sense his anger. Still, he’s trying to prevent any more trouble, and having a man join them for lunch isn’t so bad.
As they cross toward the other three, Jacob suddenly jumps up. “Left!”
It’s a testament to their centuries of shared service, but Cole doesn’t even hesitate as he jumps to his left, spilling his lunch. But Tyler sees why half an instant later as the other man goes stumbling by, narrowly missing Cole as something flashes from his hand to the dirt.
&nb
sp; “Ach, so sorry!” the man says, straightening up and brushing off his pants. “I didn’t see that rock and—”
“And you just happened to have a dagger under your tray,” Jacob says, springing toward him. The man doesn’t reply, turning and running, and the four Guardians chase after him, all thoughts of lunch forgotten.
The would-be assassin is quick, but the four Fae are trained and work together, Tyler and Jacob going around while Noah and Cole chase, cornering him against the rock wall. It’s a short chase, just out of sight of the others, when the attacker stops, his escape fully cut off. Tyler stays on the rock wall, ready to pounce while Jacob, Noah, and Cole surround him, keeping him cornered. “Who are you?”
“Like you’ll ever find out,” the man says, his eyes darting back and forth as Tyler squats down, seeing he’s got something else in his clothing. From his tunic, he pulls another knife and leaps at Cole, but Tyler intercepts him in midair, flipping the man over and onto his back.
“Surrender!” Tyler says, but the man kicks, pushing him off. Before the Guardians can move forward to neutralize the assassin, he kills himself, stabbing his dagger from under his chin and up into his brain, ending it instantly.
“Great, now what?” Jacob growls as he looks at the body. “Cole, are you okay?”
“Fine. Thank you. You too, Tyler.”
Tyler nods, pondering the corpse with the spreading pool of blood underneath his head. Jacob had a point. With someone obviously trying to kill Cole, they didn’t know who was coming for whom.
Was Cassina coming for them? Or for Eve? Or for the emperor?
And what if it isn’t Cassina who sent the killer, but someone else?
“Search the body quickly,” Cole says, kneeling down and starting to pat down his would-be assassin. “Once Captain Connor hears about this, I’m sure our afternoon work will involve cleaning this mess up.”
Guardians of Moonlight: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Guardians of the Fae Book 3) Page 8
