Her Dark Defenders: Breath of Air (The Darkness of Light Book 1)

by Nala Kingsley

  Once I was ready, I breathed in deeply and made my way to the castle double doors. The guards had already opened them. Head high, I marched out of the castle. Fairies fell into line behind me as I crossed through the courtyard toward the drawbridge. There, my parents had already been laid out on leaves from the Master Elmpieria tree that grew in the precise center of the realm. A single leaf was long enough to hold my father’s body.

  Four fairy guards for each of my parents stepped forward and lifted the leaves bearing the king and queen. They carried my parents just in front of me as I led the procession all the way through the kingdom until we reached the Great Sea, the beach the farthest point north in the realm.

  I knelt down and grabbed two fistfuls of sand. With trembling hands, I released the pebbles through my fingers to cover my parents’ faces.

  “May you never journey alone but with each other for all of time. Death is not the end but merely a new beginning. Please, pave the world for us all so that we might be reunited with you once we cross over.”

  I laid myself down fully prostrate, the highest form of respect a fairy could give to another as we were voluntarily grounding ourselves before the recipient.

  Friends and other fairies moved forward to grab their own handfuls of sand to place as a sign of their devotion and loyalty to my parents. I remained prostrate and waited until they were done. When I stood, I nodded to the fairy guards but then held up my hand.

  It was not easy for me to tug on the leaf holding my mother, but I managed to pull her forward, and I guided her into the water.

  My father’s leaf was even harder to move, and I had to spread my wings and fly to be able to get him to shift at all. Soon, he was in the water, giving chase after his wife.

  The sounds of sobbing rang out. Others were crying, and if I did not leave now, I would be reduced to a puddle myself. My heart broke all over again. How could they have left me? Both had been healthy, strong, and fierce fairies. How had that illness killed them both but none of the others? Was it truly a coincidence, or was something sinister afoot that we could not detect even with our magic?

  Why could I have not been the one to die in their stead?

  I was supposed to immediately return to the castle so that the coronation could begin, but I remained there, in the shallow waters, waiting until I could not see my parents anymore. Only then did I lead the procession, this time back to the castle.

  While the guests were flooding into the throne room, I dashed back to my room. My skirt had not dried entirely from plunging into the water, and regardless, I would not wear the same gown for such a sorrowful occasion as well as one that was meant to be one of triumph, although I certainly did not feel triumphant in the least.

  This gown had a dark silver bodice. The sleeves were a sheer silver-viridian color that matched the full skirt with a short train. At the waistline and along the top of the sleeves were beautiful lilacs bursting into full blooms. It was almost as if the flowers themselves were celebrating.

  I was numb. My eyes were dry, but I longed to weep. My sorrow was so profound that I doubted I could handle this. I did not wish for the crown. I did not wish to be called the queen. I did not wish for this day to have come so quickly.

  Why hadn’t I listened to my parents more? Why had I been so rebellious? Why couldn’t I have been willing to learn how to rule?

  My mother would have loved to see me ascend to the throne. She and my father would have retired and slipped to the side so they could have lived their later years in peace. Instead, they never had the chance to truly grow old. Relatively speaking, humans did not live nearly as long as fairies, but my parents had not nearly lived as long as they could have or should have.

  Many of the fairies had been worried that the illness would return. Yes, many had been saved, but my parents could not be healed. They had perished. What if the illness returned and was too strong for the healers and the poison to work?

  But I could not worry about that. I was far too preoccupied with my sorrow as well as my concerns about my ability to rule. Just because the fairies had followed me from place to place so far this morning did not mean that they would listen to my rule.

  The advisors had all assured me that they would be there for me, helping me along the way. Perhaps they could teach me… but, no. They had never ruled. My parents should have taught me, but time had played a cruel trick on us.

  Not two months ago, my father asked my mother if they should not start to teach me more. My mother, in a shocking move, said I should enjoy my freedom yet, “but perhaps with a measure more restraint.”

  I never found that measure of restraint, and I continued to live as I pleased, rushing off, having fun, enjoying life.

  And now, that same selfishness had caused my people to be left with a queen who knew not a thing concerning how to rule.

  Doing my best to brush aside my fears, my sorrow, I swept out of my room and walked down the hallway that led to the back entrance to the throne room. My parents had walked these same steps often, but I had only twice before.

  With a deep breath, I pushed open the door and glided inside, moving forward to stand in front of the dual thrones. The one chair would remain vacant until I wed and found the fairies a king.

  The fairies stared at me, and I tried to locate some of my friends in the crowd so that I might find a semblance of peace. Instead, my gaze fell upon a quartet of handsome, striking men. Marlo, Solo, Aman, and Baxon had not made an appearance for the funeral, but yet, they showed up now.

  The moment of my coronation had come.

  Chapter 8

  My hands shook slightly, so I clasped them behind my back. One of the most eloquent speakers from the advisors and my father's dear friend, Dune, stepped forward and gave a speech. Truly, I could not recall one word from it.

  Faint music began to play, and I sank down into a low curtsey. Dune stepped forward as did a guard who held my golden crown upon a red silk pillow. My crown was not the same as my mother’s. No, each new king and queen had a new one fashioned for him or herself. Mine was dainty, with three strands interweaving to comprise the circlet, essentially a more feminine version of my father’s.

  The music swelled as Dune lifted the crown for the crowd to see. I held my breath, my body rigid and locked in place as I waited for the light crown to touch my head.

  The moment the crown touched me, I was shocked on two accounts. One, the crown was far heavier than I suspected, although perhaps that was merely my mind being rather foolish. And, two, a loud boom resounded, not from the drums or any of the other musical instruments. Another boom pounded, and the entire floor of the throne room shook. I maintained my balance far better than most. Several fell to the ground, far too accustomed to their wings to keep them afloat, but the sheer number of fairies within the room meant all wings had to be tucked inside.

  A third boom and the wall cracked. Guards were scrambling to secure their weapons and shields. The one that brought over the pillow tossed it aside and hurried to me.

  I stared at him in disgust. “See to it that the children are brought to safety.”

  “But, Your Fairy Highness, what—”

  “I can see to my self. Now, will your first act be to ignore your new queen or to do as she demands?”

  Another boom. The hole in the wall grew, and figures dressed wholly in black slithered through. Their wings were as dark as the nighttime sky, and somehow, they seemed to suck in the light from the lit torches suspended from the ceiling and from within gilded sconces.

  Demons. There was no doubt. I might not have seen one up close before, but there was no one else those figures could be considering some were not using their wings, and yet they were climbing the walls as if an animal.

  Fairies were scrambling to leave. Chaos descended all around me even as a few chunks of the ceiling above crumbled down to rain near me. An arm punched through directly above my head, and I called upon my magic.

  My tutors had tried to tame my
magic, to control it. All those times I had run off to discover my magic myself had allowed me to test my limits. Not many fairies were willing to try and see if they could affect some of the elements or rather all of them. Most stuck to only one element if they did bother. For the most part, the fairies as a whole had become rather lax with their magic outside of the healing arts.

  But demons were creatures of fire. Although I considered using my own fiery blasts to strike them back, instead, I opted to use the element of water.

  As I formed a ball of the life-giving fluid between my glowing hands, the demon from above jumped down, flipped three times, and landed on his feet in front of me. He openly leered at me.

  “Fairy princess would make a nice snack,” he said. He had twenty more teeth than I did, all overcrowded and far sharper than many knives. The demon gnashed his teeth together.

  I clapped my hands together, and the water bubble disappeared. When he reached for my shoulders or perhaps my neck, my hands darted out to grab him, and I forced the flow of water back into the open and against his skin.

  The demon’s skin made a hissing sound as smoky tendrils floated up, not nearly thick enough to obscure the hatred burning in his twisted features. His hatred and darkness had caused him to become a grotesque version of himself. Perhaps because we were touching, I could see into his past, see him as a young boy, and then, he had been so ordinary looking. Now, between the mouth teeming full of turned teeth, huge bumps on his forehead and neck that appeared as if growths, and nasty scars, he was a fright to gaze upon.

  I infused even more water so that he could not touch my skin any longer. The demon muttered a curse, and a sweep of my hand had the water lifting from my skin and rushing to flood his mouth.

  “I will not accept such talk here,” I said pleasantly enough.

  Perhaps it was my anger at the attack or my fury and sorrow concerning my parents’ death, but I then did something I never thought I would do before.

  I purposely shoved the magical water farther and deeper into the demon down his throat but not to his stomach. Oh, no, I redirected it to his lungs and watched as he drowned before my eyes.

  Yes, I killed him. Without a care, I observed him collapse to my feet, dead.

  All around me, the chaos was only spreading. Demons were blocking the front exit, and I rushed over to the nearest guards.

  “Gather the young,” I demanded. “Have them leave through the back.”

  “But that is reserved—”

  “I would rather they not die so tradition can be damned!” I shouted.

  They blinked in surprise. At my sharp tone or at my questionable choice of words, I wasn’t certain. I did not care either way and left them to do as I bid.

  For a moment, I rushed around, lost, uncertain if I should help usher fairies to safety or else fight more of the demons. Those fairies already attacking were using fire more often than not, and I supposed that I understood why fairies would choose to learn fire over the other elements. Fire was so important with hunting and food preparation, but water was life itself. Without water, all of life would die, but in excess, even water could be deadly.

  A fairy in front of me, perhaps ten years my junior, stood in front of a demon that stood over a foot taller than her. She was trying to conjure fire, but her age, experience, and fright all prevented her from forming more than a few sparks. The demon laughed at her. This one did not appear as monstrous as the first one I had faced, looking almost human, but no matter. He was evil, and he was willing to harm innocents. That was more than enough reason for me to be willing to blast him with water.

  The demon lifted his arm. Fire appeared from his fingertips down the length of his arm to his elbow. He swiftly brought down his arm, a yellow-and-orange streak following in its wake.

  I blasted his arm with enough water that it formed a bubble. The force of my attack sent the demon flying back, his watery arm pinned to the wall.

  “Flee,” I said to the fairy through gritted teeth.

  She nodded, and my heart warmed to see her help a few other fairies onto their feet and guiding them away from the crux of the battle.

  The demon’s fire remained burning despite my water bubble, so I allowed the water to drip and glide over his body before entering his nose and rushing to his lungs. As before, I drowned this demon. The shock in his eyes made me grin.

  As much as I knew it was wrong to delight in death, I somehow felt vindicated. The demons were trying to draw us into their war, but they would fail. We were fairies. We were goodness and light. We would not cower in the shadows, nor would we be walked over.

  The demons must have thought we would be distracted by the coronation, and for the most part, we were. Hadn't my parents increased the guards on our borders? How could it be that demons had sneaked within the fairy realm undetected? Were all of those guards killed?

  Once more, fury and wild anger burned through me, and I sent out tendrils of water, almost like whips, and slashed at the nearest demons. My heart was strong, my will steady, but my powers were waning. My magic had a limit reserve, and that well was being used up rapidly considering my font had been lowered than normal as of late. My grief and sorrow had prevented me from sleeping soundly, and I had not been eating or drinking well either.

  A wave of dizziness washed over me as I lashed out again. A demon that had been antagonizing a family of four fairies fell to the ground. The fairies flew off, but I also began to fall.

  Would this battle be the extent of my reign as the fairy queen?

  Chapter 9

  I was too tired to bring out my wings to stop myself from falling. Bracing for impact, I shut my eyes when strong arms enveloped me.

  “Baxon,” I murmured, my eyes opening to his handsome face.

  “You are pushing yourself too hard,” he said.

  I jerked away from his embrace. “While I am grateful that you prevented me from falling,” I said through clenched teeth, “I do not appreciate you acting as though I should do nothing.”

  “You should flee,” Aman said.

  “You need to be able to reunite the fairies after the battle,” Solo pointed out.

  “If you fall… and I do not mean your curvaceous body…” Marlo stared.

  “I will not abandon my people in their time of need,” I spat out. “If you persist on this matter, I would rather you leave than stay here.”

  I gripped my hands into tight fists. First, they appeared when my parents were stricken ill and then died. Now, they appeared again when demons were attacking. I could not help being suspicious.

  Baxon squeezed my shoulder, and some of his power coursed through me. Again, I was left wondering what they were, but Aman, Solo, and Marlo nodded to each other, and they darted forward. Not many fairies ever carried weapons on their persons, but some had staffs. The demons had burned many of them, but the trio of fighters had blades, knives, and daggers. The glimmer of silver twinkled through the smoke and flames of the demons. Within seconds, the scent of blood filled the air. I could not tell how many demons they felled, but they moved with a grace that left me vaguely envious.

  Whoever they were, they clearly were against the demons, and that was all I needed to know.

  For the moment.

  “I need to go and fight,” I told Baxon.

  He grimaced. “You should not.”

  “Why not?” I demanded. “What kind of queen would I be if I allowed my people to struggle and face the demons without my assistance? I am one of the most powerful fairies there is.”

  Baxon tried to envelop me in his embrace, but I beat on his chest and pushed away. I stumbled, and he had to catch me. Curse this mortal coil for being so weak! My own grief had led to my being vulnerable, and I could not fight as hard as I longed to.

  “You would be a living queen,” he said softly.

  In his dark eyes, I could tell how much he cared for me. More times than not, I had found my thoughts turning to him and the others as I struggled to cope an
d adjust to life without my parents. Seeing them again after that both wonderful and terrible day left me with confused feelings I would have to examine another day. The demons were far too pressing of a concern.

  “Why would the demons fight us?” I muttered.

  Baxon offered an answer, but a rushing sound flooded my ears, and I could not hear him. The noise altered to that of a low hum, and I wearily wiped my forehead. My magic was fading. I was fading.

  Even so, I struggled to call on my magic once more. My power was not entirely exhausted yet, and far too many fairies remained in the throne room. Far too many demons were threatening us.

  With the last reserves of my energy, I conjured not more water but rather a storm cloud. It was magic that I had only attempted and failed to create one other time. Still, to have a cloud within the throne room to drench rainwater on the demons and douse their fires would help to even the odds of this fierce battle.

  Baxon shook his head and muttered a curse. He gripped my hand, and again, I sensed his power. Shocked, I glanced at him. His eyes were closed, and I drew on his strength, infusing his might with my own fading embers.

  Together, the storm cloud grew from a tiny dark speck to the size of my hand. As much as I tried to increase its strength, its dimensions remained locked until I drew more from Baxon. He remained strong and firm beside me, not wavering, not staggering. The amount of power I was taking from him should have him on his knees, but he was not even sweating. Only the tightness by his eyes and the gritting of his teeth gave any indication that he felt the loss of his power.