The Faerie Wand (Dark World: The Faerie Games Book 4)

by Michelle Madow

  He reached for his left sleeve and pulled it up to his shoulder.

  His tattoo was gone.

  The crowd burst into applause.

  “She’s here!” someone screamed.

  “The one we’ve been waiting for!”

  “Queen Gloriana returned!”

  My lips parted. It was alarming enough that they thought I was the new Queen of the Otherworld.

  Now I was Queen Gloriana returned?

  Before I could think about it for a second longer, Julian rushed over to me and pressed his lips to mine. The screams of the crowd faded into the background, and the colors of our magic swirled around us, encasing us in a cocoon of love.

  I’d done it. Julian was the first half-blood to be freed from the binding spell of the faeries.

  And now, I had a thrilling feeling that together, the two of us could do anything.

  39

  Selena

  Every bound half-blood in the Sanctuary lined up at the stage after Julian’s miraculous transformation.

  I healed all of them.

  They didn’t develop wings, since half-bloods weren’t born with wings. Julian and I only had them because we were chosen champions. But my magic pulled the red poison out from their souls, and their own magic released, just like it had for Julian.

  Their eyes lit up when they finally saw the color of their magic.

  It was a miracle each time.

  We stayed there for hours, until every half-blood in the Sanctuary was free. And with the wand conducting my magic, I wasn’t drained. I could have gone for hours more—perhaps even for days.

  With the Holy Wand, my magic felt endless.

  “Now, we must celebrate this glorious day!” Elder Jarlath said once the final half-blood’s magic was restored. “Not just this year, but for every year to come. Proceed to the main square, where a feast is waiting to honor Queen Selena’s arrival, and the miracle she’s given us today!”

  I looked to Julian, panicked.

  He gave me a small nod, as calm as ever.

  I knew that look from when we were playing in the Faerie Games. He wanted me to go along with it. We’d talk it out later.

  “A feast is ready this soon?” I asked Elder Jarlath.

  “Of course.” He smiled. “I knew the wand was yours the moment I saw your magic. I arranged the preparations after speaking with you last night.”

  I opened my mouth, and then closed it. All of these people in the crowd were looking at me with so much hope. I didn’t want to let them down.

  While I was using my magic and saving them, I was invincible.

  Now, I felt bare and exposed.

  Julian was next to me in a second, and he linked his arm with mine. He leaned closer and murmured in my ear, “It’s a show. Just like before. Give them what they want, and we’ll figure out what comes next from there.”

  Something tingly and cool wrapped around his words—magic.

  Elder Jarlath raised an eyebrow at Julian. “Using magic to soundproof your words?” he asked.

  Julian stood straighter, his arm still firmly linked with mine. “My soulmate just performed a miracle that will be remembered until the end of time,” he said. “Can you blame me for wanting my words of desire for her to be private?”

  A few people chuckled in the crowd, and my cheeks heated.

  “You’ll have ample time to worship our queen later tonight,” Elder Jarlath said, not missing a beat. “But for now, we feast.”

  40

  Selena

  Flowers bloomed around the evergreen trees surrounding the square, long banquet tables featured silver candelabras glowing with fae light, and buffets held everything from a huge suckling pig to the smallest of exotic fruits.

  But as I was staring at the pig, the outside edges of it flickered. I narrowed my eyes, and the entire pig faded to practically nothing, revealing a thin chicken inside of it.

  The pig was a mirage. Glamour to hide what was truly there.

  Focusing harder, I gazed around the rest of the courtyard. While the candelabras still glowed with fae light, the previously shiny silver was coated with rust. The flowers in the trees faded away to practically nothing. The velvet tablecloths frayed at the edges.

  None of this was real. The citizens of the Sanctuary were struggling.

  They need my help.

  I blinked, the magic solidified, and everything was beautiful again.

  “Is this normal?” I asked Julian as we followed Elder Jarlath toward a long table on a raised platform.

  “Is what normal?” he asked.

  “All of this glamour. Did I just not see it in the citadel because I didn’t have my fae magic?”

  “Oh.” He frowned. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t have been able to see through it before, either, but the fae value real things. In a world where anything common can be transformed into something beautiful, the truly beautiful is valued even more. Plus, fae can also see through glamour when they know to look for it.”

  I nodded and stepped up onto the platform, where Julian and I were seated in the center of the table of Elders. Our table faced the hopeful eyes of hundreds of villagers. The Holy Wand rested on the back of my chair, its crystals glowing with light.

  Elder Jarlath stood and raised his chalice. Everyone silenced and did the same. Julian and I raised our chalices as well, and I glanced at the pale yellow, almost clear liquid inside. It smelled of alcohol, but was far too light to be the honey wine I’d drank in the citadel.

  “To the miracles of Queen Selena!” Elder Jarlath toasted.

  “To the miracles of Queen Selena!” the crowd repeated in unison.

  Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as they raised their chalices to their lips and drank.

  Julian was right. This was just like the Games.

  Except I wasn’t a pawn being sent to an arena by a city thirsting for blood. I was a queen being sent to defeat an oppressive Empire by a town searching for hope.

  Well, I was a queen to them.

  This was happening too quickly. I wanted be the queen they thought I was, but inside, I didn’t feel like one.

  The wand hummed, and its warm magic caressed the back of my arm.

  Comforting me?

  “Selena,” Julian said my name softly, and the warmth from the wand disappeared. “Drink.”

  I blinked and realized that the crowd had silenced, all of them looking to me. I forced a small smile, raised the chalice to my lips, and sipped the wine.

  Well, what was trying to be passed off as wine. I tried not to grimace. There was wine in there, but it had been extremely watered down.

  Elder Jarlath stood and raised his hands so the ends of his cloak’s sleeves brushed against the top of the table. “Now, we eat!” he said.

  The half-bloods cheered and rushed to the buffet. The Elders, Julian, and I had food brought to us on platters by half-bloods who looked honored to serve us. I thanked them as they placed a variety of glamoured food onto my plate.

  Once my plate was full, I cut into the soft meat of the “pig” and tasted it. Sure enough, it was bland, boiled chicken. And the juicy-looking fruits were dried, not fresh.

  Apparently, glamour could change what I saw, but not what I tasted.

  After the main course, a middle-aged man with dark, nearly black hair and kind, ocean blue eyes knelt down between Julian and me and presented a silver platter of colorful, bite-sized sweets.

  I smiled in recognition. I’d removed his binding tattoo back in the temple, and his magic had been the same color as his eyes.

  Then I re-focused on the sweets, narrowing my eyes to see through the glamour. The silver tray rusted, but the food remained the same. This glamour was either exceptionally strong, or the sweets were real. The sugary scent wafting up from them certainly smelled real, and I salivated at the thought of food that actually tasted good.

  I reached for a bright pink macaron, but the man spoke before I could pluck
it off of the platter.

  “Your Highness.” He cleared his throat nervously, and I looked back into his eyes. There was something familiar to them, although I couldn’t quite place what it was.

  “Don’t call me that,” I said quickly. “My name’s Selena.”

  “Selena,” he repeated, and a brush of cold magic swept across my cheek. It was the same type of magic Julian had used when we were on the stage in the temple—a sound-blocking spell. “Pretend I’m telling you about the different sweets,” he said, and I stilled, instantly on guard.

  Does he know that the Empress sent Julian and me to retrieve the Holy Wand? Does he think I’m going to take it back to the citadel and hand it over to her? Is he about to threaten me?

  “My name’s Cornelius Cullen,” he said, his words coming out in a rush. “You’re the same age as my daughter would be now. She lives in the capital, and I was wondering if you might know her.”

  I exhaled in relief. “What’s her name?” I asked, although given that I knew basically no one in the capital, I doubted I could help him.

  “Octavia.”

  My heart stopped, and I reached for the cold magic that I instinctively knew would quiet my voice to anyone but him.

  “She was only a child the last time I saw her,” he continued, apparently mistaking my silence for a lack of recognition. “She has eyes like mine, and—”

  “I knew Octavia,” I interrupted, remembering what she’d told me of her father. He’d left when she was young, in search of a legendary place where half-bloods could live in freedom. He’d promised he’d come back for her and her mom once he found it.

  But the Sanctuary didn’t let anyone leave. There was too big of a risk that its location would be exposed to the Empire.

  If exposed, there’d be no more free half-bloods anywhere in the Otherworld. So while I understood the precaution, it was also ironic. Because the people of the Sanctuary were free from the poisonous magic that bound most half-bloods, but they were prisoners in the land that kept them safe.

  “Knew?” His voice wavered, and he lowered the platter of sweets. “Did something happen…?” He let the sentence hang, waiting for me to deny it.

  Anger built in my chest.

  Your daughter was a psychopathic murderous bitch and I killed her.

  The words were on the tip of my tongue.

  But looking into his worried eyes—seeing his fear for the daughter he’d left so he could find her a better place to grow up where she wouldn’t have been a slave—I held them back.

  “Octavia played in this year’s Faerie Games,” I said, and he took in a sharp, pained breath inward. His hand shook so much that I had to reach forward to help steady the platter of sweets.

  It was no wonder I didn’t recognize those distinct eyes at first. Octavia had only ever looked conniving, spiteful, or murderous. This man—her father—seemed nothing of the sort.

  “She didn’t win,” he said flatly. “If she had, you and your soulmate wouldn’t be here.”

  I nodded, searching my mind for something to say that might comfort him. I hated Octavia, but I didn’t want to tarnish his memories of his daughter, no matter how awful of a person she’d grown up to be.

  Nothing came. All I saw was Octavia’s snide face as she’d bullied me, Octavia’s smirk as she’d sent me to the arena with Julian and Bridget, and Octavia’s glee as she’d ripped off all of Cassia’s nails and scooped out her eyeball.

  So I reached for the wand with my hand that wasn’t helping him balance the platter. The crystals glowed slightly, and calming magic flooded my body. It reminded me of the Empress’s magic, although it didn’t make my mind fuzzy like hers had.

  It made it clearer.

  I wouldn’t lie and say Octavia was anything but the monster she was. But so many weeks in the Games and the Otherworld had taught me how to spin the truth in tricky ways.

  “Octavia was chosen by Neptune, and gifted with water magic,” I said. “She was talented with her magic, and she was a strong, determined fighter who played hard and never gave up.”

  “Sounds like my Octavia.” His voice cracked, his smile bittersweet.

  “She made it to the final four,” I continued. “She was ultimately betrayed by the man she loved—the chosen champion of Venus.” Not a lie, but I didn’t want him to know that I’d been the one to kill her. “Her death was quick, and likely painless.”

  He lowered his head and brushed away tears. He stayed there like that, in mourning for his daughter, for a few seconds. Then he raised his gaze to meet mine, newfound determination in them.

  Now his eyes looked like Octavia’s. But only for a moment. Because along with determination, there was also love in them. Kindness. And respect for me.

  “What about her mother?” he asked. “Surely Octavia must have spoken to you about her, since you were in the Games with her for so long.”

  I gripped the wand tighter.

  Her mother is a prostitute who tried to force Octavia into the same path and then left her to fend for herself on the streets when she refused.

  His leaving had destroyed his family.

  I nearly said as much before the wand hummed, its warm, golden magic tempering my rage and helping me think past my anger.

  He’d left in search of a place where his family wouldn’t have to live out their lives as slaves. It was a noble goal, even though it hadn’t ended as planned. And maybe, someday, he’d learn about the results of his actions.

  But today was going to be one more day he could live without that guilt weighing on his shoulders.

  “Octavia didn’t speak of her family during the Games,” I said sadly. “I’m sorry. I wish I had better news.”

  His expression crumpled, and I worried he was going to break down into tears then and there.

  But he raised the tray and straightened his shoulders. “Better to know than to wonder,” he said decisively. “Now, select a few sweets and put them on your plate. People are starting to stare.”

  I placed the wand back into its resting spot next to me and did as he said.

  He was gone before I took a bite from the pink macaron I’d eyed earlier. It was sweet and fluffy—the only thing I’d eaten at the banquet that hadn’t been disguised with glamour. I wished I’d taken more of them.

  “What was that about?” Julian glanced in the direction Octavia’s father had scurried off to, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “He asked me something important, and I answered,” I said simply. “I’ll tell you later, when we’re alone.”

  He nodded, and with that settled, we finished our desserts in silence.

  41

  Selena

  It was past midnight before Julian and I finally had time to ourselves in Elder Jarlath’s guest room. The room was small and sparse, with scratched hardwood floors, a double bed with a lumpy mattress, and a washbasin to clean up. A single, square-paned window looked out to the simple house next door.

  Julian walked toward it and closed the thin, yellow curtains.

  “Your wings are bright again,” I said as I stripped down to my underclothes. “You’re feeling better?”

  “Much.” He strode over to me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed me. “What you did today was incredible.”

  “It wasn’t me.” I looked at the Holy Wand resting against the wall. “It was the wand.”

  “The wand may help you.” He reached for my chin, coaxing me to refocus on him. “But with your magic unbound, you have fae and witch magic along with Jupiter’s magic. You’re one of the most powerful people in the Otherworld. If not the most powerful.”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged, although it was possible that it was true. “But there are fae here far older and more skilled than I am.”

  “There’s nothing like natural talent.” He smirked and stepped back, admiring the new colors in my wings.

  My cheeks heated, even though I loved when he looked at me like that. “What?” I asked softly, once it w
as clear he wasn’t going to say anything more without some sort of prompt.

  “I thought your birth mother only bound your fae magic, and that your witch magic was too weak for you to use,” he said. “But your wings have three colors now. And you’ve always had a delicious, slightly floral scent, but now, it’s stronger than ever. Like we’re standing in a garden, even though there are no flowers in sight.”

  “It’s witch magic,” I said, still shocked myself.

  I used my fae magic to create a mirror similar to the one Julian had created earlier, except mine was floor-length, and tinted with my violet fae magic.

  The silver dancing in my wings was my witch magic. I knew it instinctively.

  “Whatever spell my birth mother used to bind my fae magic must have tempered down my witch magic, too,” I said, and the mirror puffed out of existence. “It feels like my witch magic feeds off my fae magic. Like it’s latching onto it to make it stronger.”

  “Hm.” He stared thoughtfully at where the mirror had been. “When we were playing the Games, you mentioned that you wished you had your witch magic so you could cast a sound barrier spell.”

  “Yes,” I said, recalling how easily Torrence had always casted those when we wanted to talk privately in my room. Which was pretty much every time we talked in my room.

  “Fae can create sound boundaries with their magic, too,” he said, but then he stopped and corrected himself. “With our magic.” He lit up a fae light in his hands—a beautiful ice blue—and stared at it in wonder. “I can’t believe how long we went without knowing…” He continued to stare at it, but then he snapped back into focus, puffed it out, and looked at me. “Anyway,” he said. “Why don’t you try to create a sound barrier spell and see how your fae and witch magic works together?”

  “Good idea.” I held my hands out, visualized my intention, and started to chant the sound barrier spell.

  I only got out one word before silver and violet magic burst from my palms, connected with the ceiling, and spread out around the walls and floors.