He’d picked it for its innocuous title: Other Beasts.
Yeah, not exactly informative, but what were he and Thalia if not another beast? Well, to the Fae, at any rate.
And that was something else he’d learned.
To the Fae, they literally were beasts. Just like Kane had said weeks ago.
To Theo’s people, they were as animalistic as the Divelsian horses Thalia had managed to inherit from Isaura.
In fact, the Fae actually thought better of the Divelsian horses because Lykens were considered lesser as they were the Gods’ secondborn.
Truth be told, Rafe’s reading had taught him a lot about the culture here, and what he’d read, he didn’t particularly like.
Isaura ruled eighteen factions. Those factions were bitterly held by Fae that could be considered Generals, but were called Legios here.
They fought.
A lot.
Sometimes, they even went to war.
Thirty thousand years ago, Isaura, the Legios of her own faction, had gone to war with the Queen at the time, had bested her, executed her on the field, and then taken the old sovereign’s crown.
Though he knew Isaura wasn’t as sugar sweet as she made out to be to most males in the vicinity, and he’d seen her catty looks at Thalia as well as other women around her, he’d never have imagined she was capable of that.
She was rounded and curvy and pretty. Studied her nails and complained if she broke one. She fiddled with her hair. Primped and preened whenever a handsome male approached.
She was a Mean Girl.
But Mean Girls weren’t supposed to go out and seek war. They weren’t supposed to behead their enemies.
If he’d known Thalia was going to walk into the challenge with Isaura, he’d have told her to back the fuck off.
Then, his mate, as she had a habit of doing, astonished them all by winning.
Not just once.
Not even two times.
But three.
Three fucking times, Thalia whooped Isaura’s butt. The butt of a female who had bested dozens of the most powerful Legios, who had held onto her crown through might and brute force.
It seemed incalculable to him that his mate could have bested Isaura, and yet, she had. His female, too young for the burdens she had resting on her shoulders, was proving just how she was the prophecy the Fae had come to lose faith in.
And that presented a problem.
Because Isaura was catty. She was jealous. And while Kane and Theo had said she was tired of ruling, that statement didn’t match up with the facts.
Jonsse’s scar?
It was from Isaura’s blade during the battle that had divided the nation two thousand years ago.
And while that seemed more than several lifetimes to him and his, that was nothing to the Fae. It might as well be twenty years ago; that was how relative time was to them.
With his thoughts churning as they were, it was amazing he’d tumbled into sleep, and now, having remembered what he was researching, he was wide awake and burning with the need for more.
More information, more clues to understanding the people he found himself living amongst, but also the responsibilities as well as the meaning behind Thalia’s presence in the world at large.
Rubbing his forehead, he dragged the tome off the bed and hauled it onto his lap as he sat up against the soft pillows.
It was dusk, which meant his mates would be gone for another hour at least, and he had just enough light not to need the bugs that appeared out of nowhere to illuminate rooms—which was good, considering Rafe, Mikkel, and Thalia couldn’t command the bugs, so he’d be sitting in the damn dark until Theo made an appearance.
Living here was a nuisance when you weren’t Fae.
As he opened the book to the page where he’d been reading earlier, having decided to nap at the end of the chapter, he ran his fingers across the engraved text of the next heading.
Changeling.
He frowned at that, racked his memory because he’d heard of them.
His grandmother had told him a tale once of changelings. In lore, they were human children who’d been stolen by the fairies, then substituted with another fairy where they were subsequently raised by the human family.
The frown that puckered his brow appeared because of the shiver that raced down his spine.
He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t like the connotations that changelings, something he’d always thought of as crazy or just an old wives’ tale, was true. And these books spoke nothing but the truth.
Jerking his neck up in an attempt to release some tension that had banded there, he began to read the old text.
Jonsse had glamored them so all of it appeared in English, but the actual font didn’t change, so it was heavily cursive and scrolled like calligraphy. While he’d wondered if she could make it easier to read, the fact she’d translated it for him had seemed like a big enough request, so he’d just persevered and had, over the weeks, grown used to the stylized way of writing.
But even as he read, he squinted more and frowned harder because…
No.
Just no.
“A changeling has the ability to wield the fire of the dark for the purity of the light. They are creatures able to mimic other beasts, and, like cuckoos in the nest, they fall into families and can, thanks to their immense powers that are fired by Vulcun’s forge, take on the similarities of those around them.
“But they are not that beast. They aren’t anything other than pure fire.
“Their talents are born from that fire, and through Vulcun’s dark kiss, they were born to spring forth and create mayhem.”
Mayhem?
That seemed a little intense, but then, these books weren’t exactly light goddamn reading.
Rubbing his forehead again, unease still dripping through his veins like melting ice that dropped down the back of the neck after a heavy snowfall, he read on:
“Not all changelings take to their dark master’s tasks. Some refuse to heed to the call of fire. Some fight it, others embrace it, but the Goddess has her ways. The Mother of All combats the Fire God’s rage at her, and through her divine gifts, ensures that not all changelings are pure evil.
“Some have the ability to read minds, others can speak without a word passing their lips. There are those who can heal, and there are those who can move things without lifting a finger.
“These talents are Goddess-given, but not even she can deny the call of fire. The dark calls to the dark, and the fire calls to the fire.
“An addled changeling—a child bred for evil who instead lives for good—is a powerful creature whose true powers often awake after fifty years of living.
“They will show weakness from birth, unable to defend themselves physically, unable even to withstand the rages of those around them who realize their child has been switched by the Darkest of the Fae.
“They will live in misery, sadness their only companion until they perish and die. Unless they are one of the blessed. These number too few to count; but the Goddess in her infinite wisdom can see fit to ease these troubled souls by gifting them a mate.
“Through this creature who could be Fae, human, or Lyken, they will come to learn of the true balance of their powers. Powers that, with the gift of a mate, will be Goddess-tainted.
“Vulcun’s strength is in corrupting, the Goddess has her ways too. Changelings are creatures to watch. Vigilance around them is a necessity for they are exactly as their name suggests: changelings. In the true sense of the word.”
His heartbeat was a dull audible thud in his ear. But what scared him most was the way the time slipped through his fingers as he read over the paragraphs that appeared in a thousand-year-old text until the dark appeared and, not by one moment, did he realize he’d been staring at the book for over an hour at least.
He didn’t even click out of the stupor that befell him when the lights appeared; those strange bugs that danced overhead at Theo’s com
mand, and that illuminated any space with the power of fog lights and yet, with a delicacy that made them comfortable to be around.
“Rafe?”
The voice came from a distance. He didn’t know how far away it was, just knew that he couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, couldn’t taste or touch or smell because every single atom he possessed was focused elsewhere.
On the page in front of him.
Hands reached for the book, snatching it from his grasp. When he made no move to capture it back, he heard more murmuring that sounded like they were coming through water. He ignored them, ignored the worry that blanketed the room, until he heard that same voice who’d uttered his name speak the text aloud.
“Changelings are…”
Only when they’d read to the end did Rafe break out of the stasis he’d fallen into. With a deep gulp, he sucked down air like he hadn’t been able to breathe in hours. He felt Thalia approach, her arms slipping around his shoulder to slide down to his waist. She curled into him, tucked herself against his side, and Mikkel, surprising everyone in the room, did the same. He sat next to Rafe, slung an arm over his shoulder and squeezed, imparting a comfort Rafe sorely needed.
He looked up, saw the book was still in Theo’s hands, and managed to ask, “That describes me, doesn’t it?”
The Fae was scowling down at the ancient text. “Why are you reading this?”
“I wanted to learn more about Thalia’s She-Wolf. About my own. Why I’m so weak and yet strong in other ways.” He licked his lips. “I got my answer, didn’t I?”
Thalia whispered, “That can’t be you, can it?”
Rafe’s mouth worked. “I-I don’t know. It fits, don’t you think? Everything fits. From my age to the fact that we can speak telepathically. That I can heal and that part about the family raging at having lost their real child… But what really hits home is the way I burned you that day we went to the throne room. My hands were scorching hot, and I seared your skin. ‘Fire calls to fire,’” he quoted dully.
“Who is Vulcun?” Mikkel asked quietly.
“He’s the other side of the coin,” Theo answered, still reading the text, now perched at the foot of the bed. His shoulders were slouched as he read past where Rafe had managed to reach, but at Mikkel’s question, he asked, “Lykens don’t believe in the Devil, do they?”
Thalia stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s not as big a deal to Lykens as he is to humans, is he?”
“Wait a minute, you said Morningstar was the Devil.”
Theo shook his head. “Morningstar plays the role, yes. But there is a God, a dark God. Just like there are Dark Fae.” He sucked in a breath. “Everything has an opposite.”
Thalia’s hands curled into fists. “You’re scaring me, Theo.”
That Thalia was scared when she was so strong, so powerful, eased something in Rafe. It wasn’t that he wanted her to suffer, it was that he didn’t want to be alone in the sudden welter of terror that was drowning him.
Up was down, and left was right.
How could it be that, suddenly, nothing made sense.
“It is good that I am,” Theo replied softly, finally tearing his gaze from the book. “These are not fairy tales, or fairy stories, what I tell you will be the truth, it is not pretty and it is disturbing.”
Mikkel cleared his throat. “I think you’d better just hit us with it, Theo, because you’re scaring us all here.”
Theo grimaced. “Not my intention, not in earnest. But Vulcun is the true Devil. He is Terra, Caelus, Aer, and Mare’s nemesis. Where they cast good, he spells bad.”
“Yin and Yang,” Rafe breathed, and Theo nodded.
“Yes. Exactly. Without the kiss of good, we cannot fear the burn of evil. It is the way of it.
“Morningstar was our first King.” When the three of them jolted in surprise at that, Theo pulled a face. “Yes. He was the first of the first born. The true leader of our people. He was tempted to leave the gates of our realm by no other than Vulcun. Remember I told you of mountains and pastures in the distance, just beyond our realm? Ones that enticed and tempted Morningstar?”
Thalia nodded. “Yes. You said he wanted an adventure.”
“He did. And he got one. Vulcun created those pastures and mountains to tempt him. To urge him to leave the safety of Heden, to compromise its walls.”
Rafe swallowed. “It obviously worked.”
“Yes. And the Fae were punished for his falling into temptation.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger, looking so tired, so world-weary that Rafe felt guilty for having opened the damn book, for having made it necessary for Theo to tell this horrible tale. “Morningstar did not go alone. He took with him some of the more curious of his people. His only excuse was his age.
“I have told you, several times, that our age is no issue. Boredom is the real threat and when I say a threat, I mean it. Morningstar’s tedium saw him ruin our world, saw two new species being born from the Goddess’s rage. When I tell you that it is an issue, I mean it. We are capable of too much, and with so much time on our hands…” He shrugged. “It is dangerous,” he ended softly.
“For who?”
At Thalia’s question, Theo turned to them with bleak eyes. “Everyone.” He sucked in a sharp breath, then continued, “At first, Morningstar took with him six friends. They were Legios, the leaders of the first factions. They didn’t realize what they were doing, I’m certain, but once they fell, that was it. Heden was forever closed to them.
“But Heden’s gates were open now, and more Fae were tempted to step through them before the Goddess permitted it. They too fell, and they became a part of Morningstar’s kingdom on Earth.”
Thalia’s eyes were wide as she asked, “How many fell?”
“Around three hundred thousand of our people,” Theo replied sadly. “Families were torn asunder, friends became enemies overnight. It was a sad time for our people.”
“This was before your birth though, wasn’t it?” Mikkel queried.
“Yes, but we still feel the shame today.” Theo sucked in a deep breath. “Vulcun promised the Fallen power, and they became the Dark Fae as a result.”
“What kind of power?” Thalia asked.
“When they were cast out, they lost their wings, their abilities to wield the elements. They were left with only the longevity of our race and the ability to hide themselves among Lykenkind and humanity. Races the Gods bore to fill the land Vulcun created to please Morningstar and his Fallen.”
“Wait a minute, so Earth was made by Vulcun?”
Theo’s lips twisted. “It started that way. You’ve heard of Pangaea?”
“It was the first big mass of land, wasn’t it? Then it split up and created the continents we know today,” Thalia replied.
Theo nodded. “From Vulcun’s seat, he spat the magma that would forge the land. Terra and her men brought the water, air, and earth to that fiery ash.”
“Still, without Vulcun, there’d be no Earth?” Mikkel asked.
“What there’d be is fiery rivers of molten lava and lakes of fire,” Theo corrected. “Without Terra, who knows what Earth would be. And without the Gods as a whole, there’d be no others living there.
“That was our Gods’ weakness, however. One that Vulcun knew of. It is said that he promised Morningstar power over the races Terra was bound to create. He promised the Fallen King a new people to reign over. And he did not fail in that promise.
“Vulcun knew Terra well enough to know that from the darkness she would, with her mothering instincts, bring light. The Lykens came first, then the humans, and Morningstar suddenly had his new kingdom.”
Rafe felt like wheezing. “I wish this weren’t true.”
Theo’s eyes were sad. “Me too, brother. Me too.” He turned away from them, looked straight ahead. “The wars we used to fight were based on politics. One Legios disliking another, a group of them wishing to overthrow the Queen. But of late? No. We still
have Fae that fall, and it is they who we battle.”
“What do you mean? How do they fall?”
“Morningstar tempts them to the other side.”
“But how?” Thalia demanded, straightening in her need for answers. “They lose their wings and can’t use their powers.”
“He promises them life,” Theo said softly.
For a second, Rafe went blank and then he murmured, “Oh.”
Theo cut him a look and nodded. On either side of Rafe, Thalia and Mikkel were still in the dark, but he understood. Far too clearly.
For, what wouldn’t Rafe do for the woman at his side?
“They fall for humans who eventually perish, and when that happens, they go to Morningstar, and he promises them life,” he explained to Thalia and Mikkel.
“Aye, that is the way of it. It is a long life we lead. A long life with no love. The promise of more can lead us to our doom or to our worth.” He swallowed. “I, myself, felt the pain of this. With Brian.” His mouth worked. “My good friend did too—he passed over rather than fall into Morningstar’s will. His passing is one of the reasons why I haven’t been back in Heden for over two centuries.”
Thalia shoved herself forward and fell onto her knees. Though he immediately missed her warmth at his side, she was practically throbbing with urgency as she scampered toward Theo, only stopping when she was at his side. “Answer me this. Did Morningstar approach you?”
Theo turned to look at her and gave her a single nod.
She let out a hiss. “Why didn’t you say yes?”
“Because I was selfish.”
Her eyes widened. “Selfish? By not falling into temptation?”
“Brian could have lived if I’d heeded Morningstar’s call. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to lose my wings, my freedom to switch between the realms—even if I didn’t want to be in Heden, being denied complete access to it wasn’t something I was willing to lose. I didn’t want to be without my powers, and I certainly didn’t want to join forces with Morningstar.” His words grew thick. “I’m my mother’s favored son. Had I fallen, it would have stirred anarchy here. And worse, it would have hurt her. She loves me. I know she’s a pain, and I know she is cruel and imperfect, but she does love me. I couldn’t do that to her.”
Triad (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 3) Page 22
