by Alex Temples
Evrei still shuddered as he thought of the evils Gethin had wrought on humanity. Evrei didn’t want to slaughter mortals or to torture them. He simply wanted them enslaved so the damage they caused could be controlled, corrected so they could never harm another as they’d harmed him all those years ago.
Gethin, on the other hand, was a monster with enormous power.
The Light Fae had sent warriors to defeat him over the years, with little success. He had the uncanny ability to disappear just when you went looking for him. Gethin’s one weakness, and the reason he had never been able to overthrow the crystal palace, was his lack of high blood. His Adamhic blood was considered coarse, a step above being mortal, as far from Eabhan royalty as possible. This limited the support he could build, the number of fae willing to risk being ostracized by the Crystal Court for the rest of their years.
On the other hand, Evrei was a direct descendent from one of the four original royal houses. He had the power to amass a large following. While Evrei despised Gethin’s methods, together they were unstoppable - Evrei as King of the Fae, Gethin as his war chief.
Evrei placed his hands on the stone windowsill. He stared out at the valley before nodding, a feeling of certainty blossoming in his chest.
He turned to Gethin, looking straight into his eyes. “Yes, we should send a message to the crystal palace so they understand.”
Gethin’s thin lips stretched into a smile. His evil eyes lit up with approval. “What sort of message would you like to send, my lord?”
“I leave this to your discretion, Gethin.” Evrei knew whatever Gethin devised would be despicable and immediately grab the attention of the Crystal Palace. He knew it would break her heart when she realized Gethin was not leading this rebellion. He was also counting on this fact.
Alewen was his greatest weakness and he knew his best defense against her was for her to hate him, to harden her heart against him. That way, if ever he felt weakness, if ever the sight of her weakened him, seeing the hatred in her eyes would prevent him from doing something he would regret.
Gethin nodded. His lips pursed, a gleam in his beady eyes. There was nothing he loved more than destruction. He collected his leather gloves from the ancient, oak table and strapped his sword to his side. “Very good, my lord. I’ll see it done right away.” He hesitated a moment before adding. “I’ll need your blood.
Evrei lifted his chin, his eyes serious, his frown deepening. Wordlessly he pulled off a glove and rolled his sleeve up before extending his arm.
The dark fae swifly pulled out his dagger and sliced into Evrei’s forearm, catching the blood that sprung forth into an enchanted glass vessel.
Seemingly satisfied with the blood in the vial, he stood and with a bow he spun on his heel and stormed out of the long hall, his ebony cape fluttering behind him.
Evrei knew he had set into motion something he wouldn’t be able to stop. From the room behind him he felt their sudden fear. There was a shuffling of feet and a collective intake of breath. A woman screamed and Evrei heard a thud as something hit the floor, then silence.
Their sorrow bit into him, cutting deeper than he could have imagined. He staggered, almost falling to his knees, but caught himself on the edge of the window. His fingers clutching the cold stone as tears flowed silently in the next room.
Evrei felt a flicker of doubt, but pushed it back, staring out the window to watch Gethin galloping away from the castle, towards the closest portal. He felt their sorrow shift to fear as the Keepers realized the danger in store for humanity. A danger they were now powerless to defend against.
Chapter Five
The Dark Castle
Northern Luxembourg
Rosaina gasped as she felt the dark one leave the castle, her heart heavy with sorrow. They were holding her in a separate chamber, but nothing could have prevented her from feeling the loss of one of her own. The dark rider had slaughtered one of the keepers without a second thought.
The man in the next room was different. Rosaina was adept at feeling emotions. She could sense intent. She had a powerful sense of intuition, an instinctive knowing when something was about to happen and whether it would be good or bad.
She could communicate telepathically with others if they let her, though this was a skill she had only exercised with other keepers, as mortals had long since forgotten how to use their supernatural abilities. They dismissed feelings of déjà vu and gut instinct that had kept her people alive for centuries. They only believed what they could see with their eyes or touch with their hands. Gone was any belief mortals were capable of more, any connection they felt to nature and the world around them. Rosaina feared this would be the end of them.
Fear emanated from the room next door, where her Keepers were prisoners. They were blinded and bound by dark magic. She was uncertain of their fate.
Closing her eyes, she sought out the man who held them. Again, she sensed an inner conflict in the one who stood outside the door, listening. He was not wholly evil, the darkness surrounded his heart, but inside there was still something alive, something hopeful. She thought there might be a way to could bargain with him, a way to stop him and his war chief before they destroyed everything the Keepers were charged with protecting.
They had one thing working for them. Neither of these men knew about the lost Keeper, her own sweet daughter. No one save Aelwen and the great fae master, Meurig. Roasina pressed her lips together in a silent prayer that her daughter remained safely hidden away.
Chapter Six
The Crystal Palace
Crystal City, Eden
Aiden threw his cloak over a chair as he breezed through the dining hall, headed straight to the bar. It had been a long day. Two fae royals had confronted him, demanding he choose between them. It wasn’t the first time he’d encountered this problem. His shaggy, sandy brown hair fell across his forehead, partially covering the thick eyebrows that set off his sharp blue eyes.
Though young by fae standards, Aiden’s life was already an endless pursuit of pleasure. He scorned those with a desire to work for the greater good. The seriousness of it was too much for him. Life was about discovery, adventure, partaking of the fruits of the earth. Focusing on anything outside himself seemed a waste of time.
Aiden plucked a ripe pear from the shimmering crystal bowl on the sideboard. He bit into it, enjoying its’ lush, sandy sweetness. A trickle of juice ran down his chin and he swiped it away with the back of his hand.
He selected a heavy blue decanter and slowly poured poured himself a glass of single malt scotch. Focused on the task at hand, he didn’t hear Aelwen enter the room behind him.
He sprinkled a bit of water into his scotch and let his mind wander to his morning exploits, smiling to himself. His daydream was cut short by the sound of his mother’s voice.
“Aiden, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I’ve heard some very unsettling stories.”
She was angry, but that wasn’t anything new of late. He let out a slow breath before replying.
“Mother, I can’t imagine why you’re surprised. You told me to go make the most of myself.” He flashed her a charming grin and selected a second glass. Their conversations always went better when she had a drink in hand.
Aelwen’s gaze was ice. She raised an elegant eyebrow. “Is that so? And what, pray tell, have you been up to that is so elevating you can’t be bothered to come to me when I send messengers stating the urgency of the matter?”
She waited patiently for an answer, watching as Aiden calmly mixed liqueurs into her favorite drink – a pear martini.
He handed her the frosted glass which she accepted with a nod.
“I was visiting acquaintances and delivering the mares I promised them. I thought they would make lovely gifts.”
Aelwen looked unimpressed. She took a sip of her drink.
‘You were out planting seeds where you have no intention of growing a garden, Aiden. You’re wasting your years away. There is nothing wr
ong with sowing your oats, but you’re not doing anything else to balance out this wastefulness. Not to mention the fact that you’re wasting our prize stock on those who couldn’t possibly appreciate them. Those mares were bred to carry our warriors, not to ornament your lovers’ stables.”
Aiden poured himself more scotch and leaned back against the bar, crossing one ankle over another. “I am Stablemaster, am I not?”
Aelwen frowned. It took all his willpower to avoid squirming under her sharp gaze.
“As Stablemaster you are charged with safeguarding the crown’s horses, not giving them away as personal gifts.” Her voice was tense as she considered him. “But this business is beside the point. I have an urgent task for you to accomplish. You must leave for the mortal realm immediately.”
Aiden shook his head in confusion. “You forbade me from visiting the mortal realm after my last jaunt in Paris, mother. Are you revoking this?”
“Yes, I’m revoking that order. You are to go to earth immediately, but this is not a pleasure trip. You have a very specific mission to accomplish, and the fate of all humanity rests on your ability to do so.”
Aiden tossed back the rest of his scotch, relishing the feeling of warmth that blossomed in his throat.
“What’s the task?”
“You must locate Phoradendracarpum, a rare breed of mistletoe that grows only in the Colombian highlands, where the first keepers resided. It’s a hybrid of American Mistletoe and Edenic Mistletoe and carries very strong magical properties. You will not be able to locate the plant yourself, as only a Keeper can find it.” She paused, giving Aiden a moment to absorb the information.
“Why don’t you just have your Keepers go fetch it then, mother?” Irritation spread through him. He didn’t want to go trudging through the jungle in search of a plant. He wondered if this was her way of punishing him for not living up to her standards.
He uncapped the scotch once more and began to pour himself a second dram.
Aelwen observed this with distaste before responding.
“The Keepers have been taken, Aiden.”
He froze at the news, setting the bottle down and turning to face her.
“Taken?”
“The dark fae have taken them. We received this by messenger at sunrise this morning.”
Aelwen held up the item she’d been clutching tightly since dawn. On the thick, silver chain hung a round, green emerald, surrounded by Rubies and Avalonian crystal that had been mined from the very ground upon which the crystal palace rested.
Aiden looked up with a solemn expression. “Evrei has joined forces with Gethin?”
He already knew the answer. Neither Gethin, known as the dark rider, nor Evrei, the flame of Cibola, would have been able to take the Keepers on their own.
“Yes. Evrei is making a bid for the throne, with Gethin as his war chief.”
Aelwen walked to the window, staring out over the lands her family had ruled for centuries.
“You know these amulets are enchanted, Aiden. They can only be removed when the blood of a royal mixes with the blood of a Keeper.”
Aiden finished what she was about to say. “Upon the death of an existing Keeper.” He shook his head in disgust. The dark fae had killed one off the Keepers to send them a message. It was the beginning of a war.
Aelwen glanced over her shoulder. “So, you see why I need you to go, Aiden.”
He shook his head. “Why can’t Tristan go?”
“Your brother has just been made war chief.”
Aiden’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean? I was supposed to be war chief when Sahmha retired, mother.” His voice was tight, angry. He clenched his jaw and willed himself to remain calm.
“You’re too volatile, Aiden. I had hoped you could be War Chief someday, but you’re irresponsible. You can’t control your emotions. You leap into action before thinking about the outcome. A war chief must put his men before himself, his kingdom before himself. He must make measured decisions in the heat of the moment. You haven’t mastered your emotions yet. You’re ruled by them. Tristan is levelheaded. He puts his kingdom and his people before everything else.”
Aelwen’s voice was sad.
“You are my son and I love you dearly, but you’re not ready for the responsibility. Go to earth. Show me you can do this. This is a critical mission and I am trusting you with the lives of many. You cannot fail. In the meantime, Tristan will gather an army and search for where the Jin are hiding the Keepers.”
Aiden clenched his jaw and let out a slow breath. He ignored his jealously towards his brother and forced himself to nod. “Very well. How am I supposed to locate this plant if the Keepers have all been taken?”
The tension in Aelwen’s face melted away at his acceptance of the mission. “I will tell you what you must do.”
They spoke for several hours. Aelwen told him much, but not all, because she knew if he ever found out the whole truth, if he ever discovered her greatest secret, she’d lose him forever.
Chapter Seven
NYU Campus Park
New York City
Aiden sat on the worn park bench watching the stream of college students pass by, discussing their summer plans. He admired their short skirts and flimsy tops.
He’d donned mortal attire for the occasion. The fabric felt rough and crude against his skin. He wore the business attire of the pharmaceutical executive he was supposed to be portraying.
Aiden shifted uncomfortably in the foreign material. He stroked the soft silk of his tie, relishing the feeling of natural fiber. He’d never understand why mortals crafted their textiles in a laboratory when nature provided superior alternatives in the form of cotton, silk and wool.
He did enjoy the shoes, crafted by hand from fine Italian leather. For some reason, the college students passing didn’t wear leather shoes. He wondered about this as he examined the seemingly endless variety of plastic shoes walking past him, splashed with labels and colorful designs.
Aiden had visited earth many times. He’d partied in London and Barcelona, Hong Kong and New York City. He’d never really paid attention to the little details that made up this mortal realm. He came only for the women. They were less trouble than the fae women.
Mortals saw his expensive shoes and his designer watch and never asked him questions. They never demanded more of him than he was willing to give. They flirted and laughed and stroked his ego and talked about their frivolous hobbies –obsessed with the labels on their handbags and eager for the attention of a powerful man. They were easy to seduce, constantly seeking to please him with no discernable benefit to themselves.
A breeze blew through the park, carrying the scent of hot dogs from the cart on the corner and diesel fuel from a passing truck. There were too many smells in New York. Too many people crammed together, no fresh air or open space. It was an exciting place if you were looking for a thrill, but he found himself only able to tolerate the city in small doses.
He glanced at the faces of the women passing by, looking for the one who matched the image his mother had shown him.
Unwittingly, his thoughts drifted to Tristan and anger crept back, clawing at his consciousness. He’d dreamt of becoming war chief his entire life. How could she give the honor to Tristan? His jealousy battled with his love for his brother, making it hard to remain angry.
Tristan was responsible and levelheaded, deliberate in his actions. He didn’t sleep with more than one woman at a time. In fact, as far as Aiden could tell, Tristan hardly spent any time with women, preferring instead to focus on studying the botany of Eden, in his eagerness to unravel the mysteries the goddess had left for them. Tristan could spend hours dissecting a theory and following clues to an answer. Aiden didn’t have the patience for that sort of work. He needed action.
Suddenly, Aiden felt an awareness course through his body. The warm, tingling feeling came in a rush. He’d never felt anything like it before. It was exhilarating, profound in its’ depth and completely
foreign.
He glanced up to see two women walking towards him. One of them willowy and blonde with an easy smile and a playful outfit. The one next to her was exactly the opposite. She was average height with wide eyes and an expressive mouth. His eyes roved over her full lips. She had fiery red hair that blazed life a bonfire in the summer sun. Her blue silk blouse and a white lace skirt were understated and elegant.
Aiden was struck by her unusual beauty and the surrounding air of seriousness that belied her age. She was an old soul. She’d endured hardship and emerged undefeated.
His mother had shared only the barest facts about her role creating the elixir to cure the mortals and he knew little else about her.
He studied her as she and her blonde friend made their way down the park’s winding path. Her face was relaxed, but she wore a mask. No one else would have seen it. To most she would appear an average woman in her late twenties, enjoying the warm weather with a friend.
Aiden saw people as they were. He had a gift for peeling back the layers and unmasking strangers. He’d possessed the gift since he was a small child. It had overwhelmed him then, but over time he’d learned to control it.
This was the first time in many years he’d felt such raw emotion, such strength of personality emanating from one being. He was intrigued. There was clearly more to this woman than his mother had shared. He listened carefully as they passed.
“I’m glad Professor O’Connell is so worried. It means he values you as an employee, as a researcher.” The blonde’s musical voice was accompanied with sweeping hand gestures.
Her crimson-haired friend looked skeptical as she replied. “He’s always so hard on me, constantly critiquing everything I do, Sam.” Sometimes I feel like a child around him.”
The one called Sam sighed dramatically, shaking her head.
“Brin, he wouldn’t be so hard on you if he didn’t realize how much potential you have. You’re the youngest tenured professor at the university. He knows you’ll replace him someday. He needs to be hard on you to make sure you’re ready when that day comes. You know how it works.”
