Field of Innocence (Euphoria #1)

by Lainy Lane

  “So tell me, Calandra, what is it you believe then?”

  Calandra shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t guess I’ve really figured that out just yet.”

  “You’re young, you have time to decide still.” He smiles.

  “Do I? How does anyone really know how much time they have? If you don’t figure out the right thing to believe in before it’s too late, I hear it can have some pretty dire consequences of the eternal sort.”

  Jarreth chuckles.

  “Why is that funny?”

  “I guess, being a faerie, I have a much different stance on eternal things.” Standing up, he walks to the doorway and goes downstairs without explaining anything further.

  “Where are you going?” she calls down to him.

  “To make some tea. No one can discuss anything of the eternal sort without a cup of tea.”

  “Where exactly is that rule written?” She runs down the stairs after him.

  “If it isn’t written somewhere, then someone should really write it down somewhere.”

  Calandra laughs. “What, in like the tea instruction booklet?”

  “Don’t laugh, Calandra, there are things in the world, regardless of the realm, that nothing other than a glass of tea can fix!”

  “Yeah okay …” She takes a seat at the bar and watches him. “So where do you think Tristan is?” It occurs to Calandra that she has just wasted an entire day without looking for him at all, and guilt washes over her.

  “That is something we’ll have to coax out of Drake I suppose.”

  “What’s the deal with him?” Calandra asks. Her short meeting with him had been anything but comforting or informative.

  “He’s … well, he’s Drake.”

  “Yeah, that’s real clear, thanks for that!” She rolls her eyes as Jarreth places a teapot identical to the one from his house in front of her and pours her a cup.

  “Remember what I said about figuring things out for yourself?”

  Calandra groans. “Any chance this is one of those things that tea will fix?”

  “There’s only one way to find out!” He laughs.

  Chapter Twelve

  Captive

  Time drags on in slow lulls. Each breath becomes an act of force. Thoughts come and go at random intervals. Hours, minutes, days; they all blur together into an unfathomable jumbled mess. Possibilities, thoughts, and escape plans all ramble through his head constantly, somehow tied together like an endless dream that continuously changes scenes. The music and laughter outside of the closet room doesn’t make anything any easier. There is a constant flow of trays filled with mediocre food brought into the room with a crude joke or comment, and then it’s back to black. Alone and helpless doesn’t begin to describe the predicament that Tristan finds himself in.

  The entire place has been quiet for what seems like hours. Sleep has only come in completely random fits for his entire stay here. When all you have is a dark room to sit in, sleep is really the only form of entertainment you have. At least in his sleep he can find Calandra, and feel happy and safe again. Dreams are the only place that the haunting thoughts of where Calandra may be actually leave him alone and he’s free to hope for the best. When he’s awake, the fear that Calandra is being held captive somewhere as well makes him nauseous. Drake hasn’t been any help with information despite Tristan’s best efforts to get details out of him, which only makes Tristan’s imagination take the possibilities to a whole new level of paranoia.

  There is no separation of time in a situation such as this. Everything is one blurred mess without meaning. It takes what seems like hours, but could in actuality only be a matter of minutes, for Tristan to convince himself to go and explore in the absence of noise. He lingers with his hand on the doorknob, and takes a few moments to convince himself that he has the nerve to open the door and leave. There haven’t actually been any orders that he has to stay in this hole he’s in. It was something that he just assumed. Technically speaking, he can’t break any rules if none have been placed upon him in the first place. With that final convincing thought, he turns the knob and slowly opens the door without the slightest idea of what to expect to see on the other side.

  The door he walks out of is in the middle of a hallway. Tristan looks to the left and sees no more doors, there is nothing but darkness. Odd, he thinks. What’s the point of a hallway that goes nowhere exactly? Deep down, something tells him he should ignore it and turn to the right. He lingers in the doorway and attempts to fight back the curiosity that tempts him to go to the left anyways. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, he gives in and turns to the left. The darkness takes over him and feeds into his nerves; it courses through his veins and heightens every sense in his body.

  Tristan reaches the end of the hallway and feels around the seemingly dead-end wall in front of him. About halfway down he realizes it isn’t just a wall after all. He can feel the start of a frame, a doorframe, and a very small door. He also feels some sort of intricate woodworking in the frame. He traces along the notches in the wood as he tries to make out some sort of pattern. Finally, he distracts himself from the detail. Kneeling down, he starts to feel around for a doorknob. He sighs in frustration when he realizes he can’t seem to find one. Well the hallway turns and leads to this, so it has to be more than just some decoration, surely it opens somehow. Tristan frantically continues to run his hand along the wood, searching for anything to indicate a way to open the small entry. Just as he feels a small notch and starts to inspect it, his heart drops into his stomach.

  Ahem. He hears the noise at the same time that he realizes there is a flicker of light behind him.

  “Crap!” he murmurs as he stands and turns to face his kidnapper.

  Drake is tall and slender, dark shadows seem to always follow him and frame his face. His eyes are an odd opaque lavender color, and he has about as much patience as a cat while it waits on a mouse to come out of its hole and walk straight to its impending death. This isn’t going to end well.

  “You know, Tristan,” his voice is cold, “leaving your room is one thing. But trying to wander through something that is obviously a secret compartment is quite another.”

  Tristan stands with his mouth hanging open, unsure of what move he’s supposed to make. He is cornered against the end of the hallway after all, it’s not like there’s really much he can do really.

  “Come,” Drake says and motions his arm toward Tristan.

  Tristan takes a gulp and finally breathes. Without a choice, he walks to the other end of the hall and follows Drake through to the rest of the house. Drake leads him into the living room. There isn’t much light throughout the house; there are only a few scarce windows scattered here and there, and dark curtains cover them to keep most of the sunlight out. The furniture is all-dark and appears to be from another century. There is one couch and a small black table in the living room. Tristan notices another piece of furniture at the other end of the room, an armoire with a few frames on top, but they are too far away to make out anything about them.

  “Sit,” Drake says cooly and walks out of the room.

  Tristan’s heart beats rapidly. His thoughts are speeding like a freight train. Suddenly he wishes that he had just stayed in his little closet room. He really didn’t think anyone was home. Surely at times the house has to be empty. A few minutes later, a girl walks through the room. She is tall but petite with long blonde hair and small wings protruding from her shoulder blades. Tristan shakes his head as she walks out the front door and slams it behind her. Too much time in a tiny dark room must be playing tricks with his head. Drake returns to the room seconds after the woman leaves with a teacup in his hand. He places it on the table in front of Tristan.

  “Drink,” he says simply as he takes the seat beside Tristan. Drake turns to face him on the couch, and places one leg across his other knee. He stares blankly at Tristan as he waits for him to obey.

  Tristan looks at the cup, unsure of what to do. Taking st
range drinks from the person that has been keeping you locked in a closet more than likely isn’t exactly the brightest of ideas. Although Drake has been feeding him and nothing bad has happened to him as of yet, other than the boredom of being in a dark room for who knows how many days now. If he meant him harm, surely he would’ve acted on it by now.

  “It’s tea, Tristan, now drink. Trust me, if I wanted you dead, you would be. Rest assured that I wouldn’t be kind enough to make it as simple as drinking something either.” Drake says it as if it should be reassuring somehow.

  “What good am I to you anyway?” Tristan asks as he takes the cup and lets the liquid warm his chills.

  “Honestly, not much anymore.”

  The chills return tenfold. “So you don’t … need me?” Tristan’s voice shows his fear.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Tristan. You were bait and you’ve served your purpose already.” Drake flicks his hand in the air to reiterate his point.

  Tristan continues to sip on his tea, trying to piece the puzzle together and make sense of this information. Bait. Bait for what? He takes a sharp intake of breath and chokes on his tea as he realizes the only thing he could be bait for. Calandra. Her name rings through his mind and brings a rush of emotions with it.

  “By the look on your face, I’m assuming you’ve finally figured it out,” Drake says with a ghost of a smile. “I wasn’t sure Jarreth did his job right, so I needed bait to be sure that Calandra came.” Drake points at Tristan as he says the last part.

  “Her daydream?” Images suddenly start to run through his head as he pieces more things together and he attempts to decode everything Drake is saying.

  Drake nods to let Tristan know he’s on the right track.

  “And here is where exactly?” Tristan hasn’t been able to ask any questions since he’s been here and he plans to take full advantage of the opportunity while he still can.

  “Faerie,” Drake says simply, as if it should have been obvious.

  Tristan’s jaw drops.

  “You didn’t put that together when you saw a faerie walk out of my house? Surely Calandra mentioned that’s what Jarreth said she was … at least partially.” Drake’s eyes flash black before they return to lavender and a mischievous smile crosses his face.

  Of course Calandra had mentioned that, Tristan had also known that she must have been entirely too stressed and emotional when she had a daydream experience and her imagination made it up. Faeries didn’t exist, despite the fact that he was sitting across from one. He decides to move onto the only logical question he can think of at the moment. “So, should I go back to my room now?” Tristan asks timidly.

  “First of all, it’s not your room. You are not moving in. Second, no one told you that you were exiled to the room, that was your own assumption, so don’t sound cross for your own imprisonment.” Drake laces his voice with sarcasm.

  Tristan rolls his eyes.

  Drake’s voice turns cold. “I would really think twice before you make that move again. Do not underestimate me, Tristan. Bait you may have been, but technically speaking you have served your purpose. I have no need for you anymore, and I couldn’t care less what happens to you from here.”

  Tristan’s paranoia about Calandra’s well-being crosses through his mind at once. He’s been driving himself insane wondering what happened to her, where she is, and whether or not she’s okay. “So, Calandra is here?” he asks, hopeful.

  “If by here you mean Faerie, then yes. She is with Jarreth, though, not me,” Drake answers and rolls his eyes.

  Tristan’s heart drops into his stomach. “Exactly how long have I been here?”

  “Just a few days.” His answer is simple, as if it makes everything okay.

  Tristan runs through all of the new information again in his head. Calandra is here and she is safe, but she is with Jarreth and he’s not sure if that’s of her own will or not. Here is Faerie, which moments ago, he had no clue even existed. The kicker was that despite how insane it all was, somehow he’s not imagining any of this. Now he has to wonder if there really is something in his tea. Images of Alice in Wonderland flash through his head and he shakes them out.

  “Why do you need Calandra?” Tristan finally figures out what piece of the puzzle that he is still missing.

  “What do you mean?” Drake sounds as if his question makes no sense at all.

  “You said I was bait, that you weren’t sure if Jarreth did his job right and you had to make sure she came. Why do you need her? What is she to you?”

  “A pawn really, more or less.” Drake rolls his eyes and seems more than a little irritated by the turn in the conversation. “It’s not that I need her, get that straight!” His eyes flash red, but return to lavender almost immediately. “Faerie needs her apparently, and I was simply ensuring that she got here one way or another.”

  Tristan picks up his teacup again and takes a sip. “So, I don’t have to stay in the room?”

  “Not at all, Tristan.” Drakes voice picks up a few notches of enthusiasm as if he is grateful that the questioning on Calandra is over. “You don’t even have to stay in the house if you do not wish. Though you should probably think twice, or maybe even three times, about trying to meet with Calandra just yet. And do remember that you are in Faerie, so don’t think for a second that you can do so without me knowing. Also, do not make the mistake of crossing me. It will not be pretty at all, that much I can assure you.”

  “I can’t see her?” Tristan’s mood drops down at least fifty levels.

  “In due time you will. Plus, I didn’t say you can’t, I am just suggesting that you not seek her out. When the time is right, she will come to you, simple as that. Take it for what it’s worth.” He shrugs.

  Tristan finishes the rest of his tea in a single gulp and puts the cup back on the table. He crosses his arms over his chest as he processes what Calandra could possibly mean to Faerie. “On that note, I think I’ll go out,” Tristan says suddenly. He’s not sure he actually wants to explore, but he definitely knows he wants out of Drake’s presence.

  “As you wish.” Drake stands and starts to walk out of the room. He pauses in the doorway and turns back to Tristan. “Keep in mind, Tristan, that you cannot leave Faerie until I allow you to, and that time is not now. Remember what I said about Calandra as well. It will do you well to listen to me, though I know you teenage humans have a tendency to not do so.” Drake rolls his eyes. “Calandra has far more important things to deal with now, and trust me when I say that you cannot fulfill her needs any longer.”

  Drake walks out of the room and disappears. He leaves Tristan alone on the couch as he tries to process everything and wonders what could cause Calandra to not want him anymore.

  Chapter Thirteen

  What is Love?

  “Jarreth, please!” Calandra whines as she pokes her bottom lip out slightly. “I want to see the town, it’s the least you can do with everything you’re expecting out of me!” She glances over to the dragonfly on her shoulder to reiterate her point.

  Jarreth squirms on the couch next to her. He looks at her, slightly aggravated, but he can’t completely hide the humor behind it.

  Calandra brings her gaze back to him and bats her eyelashes. “Come on! It’ll be fun!” She laces her voice with as much sugar as she can possibly drum up.

  The electricity shoots through her immediately. It starts in the center of the dragonfly, where Jarreth places his finger, and slowly courses through her. A smile crosses her face as she realizes she is getting what she wants.

  “You might want to cover that up so we don’t have the same reaction as the last time you were in town,” he says as he removes his finger from her shoulder. Calandra readjusts to the absence of the currents.

  Something about this place makes her brave. Maybe it’s the comfort of having a part of something that belonged to her mother, mixed with the powers she’s been discovering ever since coming to Faerie. Whatever the reasoning behind it is, Caland
ra has found herself being quite the daring person that she never was in the mortal world. A new confidence seems to have found her at being marked upon her arrival, and she’s relishing in every moment of it; allowing herself to do and say things that she never would have before. It gives her even more of a sense of belonging to discover that here she can be the person she used to be only in her head.

  “Because everyone doesn’t already know who I am, mark exposed or not, Jarreth. Drake’s been out and I am sure he’s filled everyone in anyway.” She rolls her eyes at the mention of Drake. He has Tristan, she knows this somewhere deep down, but since he’s assured Jarreth that Tristan is in no danger and isn’t even being held against his will so to speak, she’s put that issue on the back burner for now.

  Drake, on the other hand, stays on the very front burner with the highest flame possible underneath … according to Jarreth that is. Calandra hasn’t had a chance to interact with him much and she doesn’t really like to judge people before giving them at least half a chance. Jarreth seems to have quite the distaste for Drake, and Calandra has been unable to figure out exactly why so far. His explanations tend to come out as riddles, and Calandra has yet to find a way to get the entire truth out of him. Frustrating as it has become, she has resolved to putting the truth train on hold for a while and focus more on figuring out the ins and outs of the world she finds herself a part of now.