Blood of Half Gods: Kallen's Tale

by Bonnie Lamer

  Reading my mind, Kegan says, “All we can do is wait.”

  Wait. What torture that word brings now. I always considered myself a patient Fairy. But waiting for Xandra has turned out to be one of the most terrifying things I have ever experienced. Whether it is waiting for her to return from the Shadow realm, or waiting for her to fight Witches on her own, or waiting for her to regain consciousness over and over again. I wait in the grip of fear, afraid each time she will not come back to me.

  I do not know how long I have been sitting like this when Alita says, “Kallen, come lie next to her.” When I look up, she is already standing. Kegan is holding her tightly as they make their way to one of the chairs.

  Sighing, I nod and move to the other side of the bed and crawl on top of it, lying down next to Xandra. I pull her close, her head lying on my chest, and I stroke her silky black hair. Here I am again. Waiting. I am confident that each second I spend waiting for her is a second shaved from my life expectancy.

  Chapter 7

  Despite the magical vice grip we are in, and despite the insane amount of anxiety I feel, I somehow manage to fall into a light slumber. I am occasionally jolted awake by the sound of a tree being pushed out of our way, but then my eyes close again and I am back in a twilight sleep. I do not know how much time has passed when suddenly a new sensation wakes me up. Xandra is moving!

  She rolls onto her back and kicks away the blanket covering her. Finally. I am confident she will awaken now. Shaking her, I say loudly, “Xandra, wake up. You have to wake up.”

  She opens her eyes slowly and blinks in the bright light of the room. “I’m awake,” she mumbles, though I can tell she is still half asleep.

  The carriage comes to a halt. It stops because Xandra’s magic is pulled back through her and sent back to the earth. I sit back in relief and run a hand through my tangled hair. I take several deep breaths trying to calm my body and mind. I have to let it sink in that she is okay. A quick look at the clock tells me how late it is; how many hours off course we are. Dagda must be going crazy.

  “What’s wrong?” Xandra asks through a yawn. “Was I talking in my sleep or something? I had a strange dream…”

  She is interrupted by Alita bounding into the room. She climbs on the bed and pulls Xandra into a hug. “Oh, Xandra, you are awake!”

  Xandra’s face becomes the picture of confusion. “Oookaaay, what did I miss?”

  Kegan is speaking to someone in the hall. “Let the King know she’s awake. He and his drivers should have control now.”

  Hearing that, Xandra turns to me. “What happened?”

  My lips curl into a wry smile. “You seem determined to keep us from going south.”

  Alita finally lets her go and Xandra says, “Could you spell it out a little more for me? I just woke up and my brain’s a little foggy.” Her words are still sluggish as sleep fights to grab hold of her again.

  “You took control of the carriage,” I explain.

  “What do you mean, I took control?” she asks, becoming more alert.

  “You used your magic to take over driving the carriage, and you have had us heading west for the last six hours.”

  “Six hours? Kallen, I’ve only been asleep for about five minutes.”

  I stand up and walk to the window, pulling the curtains aside, so she can see that the sun is heading towards the horizon already. She shakes her head adamantly. “No way. I couldn’t have been asleep that long.”

  “The evidence is to the contrary,” I say and the words come out a little more prickly than I intended.

  Xandra narrows her eyes at me. “So, you want me to believe that during what I believe was a five minute nap, six hours have passed and during that time, I hijacked the carriage and have been driving it towards some unknown location.”

  That is the simple truth. “Yes.”

  She still finds this to be incredulous. “But, you said earlier that I wouldn’t be able to drive this thing.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “When it comes to you, I am often proven to be wrong.” Much more often than I care for.

  Xandra swings her legs off the bed and stands up. “You’re positive it was me?”

  This is starting to get tedious. “Your magic has a distinct flavor,” I say dryly.

  She scowls at me. “I was just asking.”

  I have to keep telling myself that this is not really her fault. She was sleeping and did not know what she was doing. “I am positive it was your magic.”

  “Then why didn’t you wake me up before now?”

  I swear, she is going to cause me to have an aneurysm someday. Does she really believe we had not tried? Through gritted teeth, I say, “We have been trying to wake you up for the last six hours.”

  Alita, sensing my frustration, says softly “We have taken turns. When not trying to wake you, Kallen, Kegan and King Dagda, as well as Radella, the drivers and the overseers, have been trying to take back control of the carriage. Unsuccessfully.”

  Xandra seems to believe it now that Alita has confirmed it. “Um, sorry,” she says sheepishly. I raise my brows and shake my head. That was a pathetic apology and she knows it.

  Sindri chooses this moment to come to the door, startling an already edgy Xandra. Immediately, she draws magic and the last thing we need right now is more of her magic. “Xandra,” I say, shaking my head.

  She lets go of her magic but practically growls at Sindri, “Who are you?”

  “I-I am…,” he stutters. I do not blame him for being nervous. He has spent the last six hours experiencing her vast magical powers.

  Kegan takes pity on him. “This is Sindri, Dagda’s assistant. He has come to call us to Dagda’s quarters.”

  Xandra is less than thrilled. “Oh, okay.” Walking to the bed, I hold out my hand to her and she takes it. I give hers a reassuring squeeze but despite my napping, I am too tired to give her anything more. I will be so glad when this day finally comes to an end.

  Like a funeral procession, the four of us walk single file down the spiral staircase, coming to a halt at Dagda’s door. Sindri steps ahead of us and after a light knock, he opens the door. Dagda is sitting behind his desk and he looks exactly how I feel. He has dark circles under his eyes and a grim expression on his face.

  “Thank you, Sindri,” Dagda says, as he rises from his chair. “Please stop at the kitchen and let the chef know we are ready for dinner. That will be all for the evening. We will be back on the road in the morning, and as soon as we start moving, meet me back here.” Sindri nods and backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Shall we?” Dagda says, sweeping his arm towards a door that leads to his private quarters.

  I start to walk but find Xandra resistant. I tug on her hand slightly. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can finally relax.

  We walk into a sitting room with a gold leather couch and a brown reclining chair. The floor is carpeted in a light brown and the walls are a soft tan. The room has always seemed comfortable to me. There is a mahogany table against the back wall that has a decanter full of scotch and several glasses. Dagda heads there and pours himself a very stiff drink.

  Turning to Xandra, he says, “You certainly do keep life interesting.”

  “Must be my heritage,” she says defensively.

  He sits down in the brown recliner and leans back. “Yes, I suppose it is.” Waving his glass towards the couch, he says, “Have a seat.” It’s a tight squeeze for all four of us, but we manage.

  Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, Dagda asks, “What were you dreaming?”

  Xandra is surprised by his interest. “I was dreaming of my parents. My real parents,” she adds quickly. I roll my eyes. Must she continue to antagonize him when he is being so calm and rational about all of this?

  “And,” he prompts.

  Xandra sighs. “I dreamt that I woke up in my bed back in my own realm and my parents weren’t ghosts. They were real. And I tried explaining to them t
hat it couldn’t be real… They thought I was crazy, or sick, or something. They tried to convince me that I had a bad dream, and that they were reality.”

  “Xandra woke believing she had only been asleep for five minutes or so. She was completely surprised that it had been six hours,” I add.

  Xandra nods. “I swear I was only in my realm in my dream for five minutes. The rest of the time, I must not have been dreaming.”

  Dagda looks thoughtful. “During this dream, did you use any type of magic?”

  She shakes her head. “No. None.”

  Dagda is deep in thought again. Finally, he asks, “Your home in your realm, it would be west of here?”

  She thinks about it for a moment and then says, “Northwest, but yes, west of here in general.”

  Dumbfounded, I ask, “Do you think she was trying to go home?”

  Dagda shrugs. “That seems to be a plausible explanation.”

  Xandra is not convinced this is the reason either. “But, I chose to stay in this realm. Why would I try to go home?”

  Dagda nods and says, “True, but in your dream, you had parents who were not spirits. Would you choose to go back to the Cowan realm if that was the case?”

  She takes far too long to answer his question in my opinion. Does she truly want to go home? Finally answering him, she says, “Even in my dream, I knew that my parents weren’t really corporeal. I kept trying to wake up so I could come back to reality.”

  A light knock on the door keeps Dagda from responding. “Come,” he says gruffly.

  A tall, skinny Fairy with a receding hairline and mostly gray hair, wheels in a trolley full of covered dishes. He doesn’t speak, just pushes the food through a small archway where a dining table of red oak is laid out for dinner. Xandra’s stomach growls loudly as the food passes her. Not surprising. She definitely burned off her breakfast using that much magic.

  Dagda stands up and downs the rest of his drink. Setting the glass back on the table with the decanter, he walks wordlessly to the table, his mood unreadable. The rest of us follow just as silently. The only thing that could make this moment more awkward is for Radella to show up.

  And she does.

  Chapter 8

  We have already started eating when she arrives. Dagda looks up at her with an unwelcoming face. “Are we secure for the evening?” he asks her.

  She looks over at him and nods. “We have a perimeter with three guards outside and two in. As far as we can tell, there is no one within several miles.”

  “Damage to the carriage?”

  “Minimal. Mostly scratches and minor dents. Her magic was able to steer the carriage around major obstacles, and when necessary, cleared the trees out of the way.”

  “I took us off the roads?” Xandra asks in surprise.

  “You did not seem to care how you got to wherever you felt like going, you were only concerned with your own selfish desires,” Radella sneers. Wow. She is stupider than I thought. Dagda has already made it clear to her who he will defend. It is not her.

  Dagda slams his palm down on the table, making Alita and Xandra practically jump out of their chairs in surprise. I admit, I may have jumped a little myself. I believe calm and reasonable are no longer words that can be attributed to him. “Damn it, Radella, I have tolerated enough of your petty jealousy and disrespectful attitude towards Xandra. If you say or do one more thing that makes her even raise an eyebrow, you will have your magic bound, be tried for treason and punished by death. Do you understand me?”

  I have rarely seen my uncle like this. His eyes are now a dark, velvety green and his voice has the feel of satin doused in liquid cyanide. His handsome face is set, as if made of marble. Unblinking, impassive. His voice is completely devoid of anger or passion. There is no doubt in the mind of anyone at the table that he is dead serious.

  Radella’s mouth opens. Then closes. Then forms a straight line, making her thin lips disappear altogether. She nods but the movement of her head is minimal. Turning from Radella as if she is no longer in the room, Dagda says, “Kallen, Kegan, I will need your help in the morning. We will assess the damage and fix what needs to be fixed. I want to start the journey back towards Uluru just after sunrise.”

  “Of course,” I say. Kegan nods in agreement as well. Then, all that can be heard is the ting of silverware against the bowls and our teeth. The faster we eat, the sooner we can escape from this nightmare of a meal.

  Xandra is the first to break the silence. “What will happen now that we’ll be so late?”

  Dagda sits back in his chair and sighs. “I have sent a messenger ahead to tell the Giants I have been delayed. Of course, I did not tell them why.” Nor will he, I am sure.

  Xandra blushes. “Sorry.”

  Dagda raises his brows and looks at Xandra for a moment, then says, “A princess need not apologize for such a tremendous show of power.” He is dead serious which shocks her.

  After a moment, Xandra asks, “What’s going to happen when we get there?” Since she did not want to think about the trip until we left, Xandra really has no idea what to expect in the land of the Giants. Who knows what misinformation regarding Giants was put in her head in the Cowan realm. I remember some tale of a giant and a beanstalk from my Cowan studies.

  “Quinn and Ellu are the tribe leaders for each line of Giants. There are the Daityas who have mixed their bloodline with Cowan blood, and the Devas, who see them as weaker because of that,” Dagda explains.

  “So, it’s like the Pooka, the Sheehogue and the Cowan Fairies, then,” Xandra says. The table becomes silent and now Alita’s face is the one to color. Xandra certainly has a knack for making that happen. Poor Alita. She will have to grow a thicker skin if she plans to spend time with Xandra.

  Finally, Dagda says, “The difference being, we Fairies have learned to live amongst one another peacefully.”

  Xandra snorts. “Are you kidding? Racism is rampant amongst the Fairies.” Dagda scowls but he cannot argue with her assertion. It may even be said that I was once guilty of racism in my belief that I should only be with a full-blooded Fairy. Fortunately, I came to my senses.

  Dagda inclines his head and says pointedly, “Be that as it may, we Fairies do not murder each other in cold blood to solve our problems with each other.”

  Clearly wanting to avoid more conflict, Xandra wisely ignores his jab at the Cowan world and moves on, “Okay, they hate each other and they’re killing each other. Got it. Is their magic strong?”

  Radella seems to have choked on a spoonful of soup. Or she’s laughing at Xandra. Which is probably the case. She gets herself under control quickly when she realizes Dagda is trying to burn holes in her with his eyes. And he’s drawing magic. I have no idea why he even allowed her to stay for dinner. Dagda must have known this would be disastrous.

  “Sorry,” she mumbles. “My soup was hot.” The lie slips easily from her mouth.

  Ignoring her interruption, I answer Xandra’s question. “The Giants possess great strength, but they are not magical creatures. They are, however, immune to many types of magic. Witch magic is useless against them.” Xandra’s eyes widen in surprise.

  “They’re not immune to Fairy magic?”

  Dagda leans forward and rests his arms on the table. “Some, but not all. It takes a powerful Fairy to go up against a Giant.”

  “But, they recognize you as King?”

  He nods. “Yes. It was a battle fought long and hard, but the Giants are now under my realm. Both for protection, mainly from each other, and as citizens that recognize the laws of my dominion.”

  “What’s going on with them right now?”

  “I am glad you have finally taken an interest,” Dagda says with an amused smirk. Xandra wrinkles her nose at him, which just makes him chuckle.

  Leaning back again, he says, “There has been an increase in violence amongst the Giants. Random murders, brawling, a complete breakdown of communication. Each tribe is threatening to declare war.”


  Xandra is confused. “As King, aren’t you the only one who can declare war?”

  Radella chokes on her soup again in response to Xandra’s ignorance of this realm and the beings that inhabit it. Since Xandra has had mere months instead of years to learn these things, I think she is doing very well. She asks appropriate questions and is eager to learn.

  My musing is interrupted when it becomes apparent that Radella is not simply trying to hide a laugh. She is actually choking. She is not making any noise and her lips are getting a little blue. As much as I dislike the woman, I will not let her die this way. I am about to help her when Xandra beats me to it.