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

by Michelle Madow

  “Whoa,” I said, watching as the colors sank into the barriers of the room, the spell taking hold. “I didn’t even need to speak the spell. It just… knew what to do.”

  “Fae magic doesn’t require incantations,” he said. “Like how you created the fae light and the mirror. And the sound blocking spell you put around your words during the banquet.” He tilted his head and studied me. “Who was that man you spoke with during dessert, by the way?”

  I paused and took a deep breath. Might as well be out with it.

  “Octavia’s father,” I said quickly.

  His eyes widened, and before he had the chance to freak out, I told him what Octavia’s father—Cornelius—and I had discussed. We sat down on the bed midway through the conversation, making ourselves as comfortable as we could on the hard, lumpy mattress.

  “That was a noble thing of you to do,” he said once I was done. “I can’t say I’d have done the same.”

  “Good thing he came to me, then,” I said. “Octavia was a vengeful, terrible person, but it doesn’t mean I have to stoop to the same level.”

  “Your kind heart is one of the many things I love about you,” he said, looking at me like I was a gift to be treasured, always.

  “I love you, too.” I leaned forward to go in for a kiss, but stopped halfway there and smiled mischievously. “Although I have to admit—I was close to giving him an earful about what I really think about Octavia. I almost did. But the wand stopped me.”

  Suspicion darkened his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “The wand’s connected to me somehow.” I sat back on my heels, glanced at the wand, and then back to Julian. He and the wand were the two most beautiful things in the room—no, in the entire Otherworld. And they were both mine. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s like the wand knows my soul. Like it doesn’t work for me, but with me. Does that make any sense?”

  “Sort of.” He shifted uncomfortably, the tender moment between us broken. “Maybe it’s best you don’t use it too much. Then it’ll be easier for you when you part with it.”

  Dread curled inside my stomach. “What do you mean, part with it?” I asked, although I knew exactly what he meant.

  I just wasn’t sure I could do it anymore.

  “I mean when we get out of here and complete what we came to do,” he said simply. “Giving the Holy Wand to the Empress.”

  42

  Selena

  “I’m not giving the wand to the Empress,” I said, slowly and firmly.

  He sat there as still as a statue, his eyes locked on mine. “Yes, you are,” he said. “We are. Or have you forgotten why we’re really here?”

  “I know why we came here,” I said. “But the wand is the half-bloods’ chance for freedom. If the Empress has it, she’ll make sure they remain slaves. And I can’t just sit back and let that happen. Not when I can do something to change it.”

  He sat back, rubbed his temples, and then refocused on me. He looked so tired. Like for the first time, he was facing a fight he couldn’t win. “What you did today was incredible,” he finally said. “But even though we’re not in the arena, we’re still playing the Games. You heard Juno’s new rule. Soulmates can win the Games as a pair, if they complete a task given to them by the Empress. If we don’t give the Empress the wand, we lose the Games.”

  He watched me carefully, his words hanging heavy in the air. Because you either won the Games or you died. The gods would make sure of it.

  To win the Games, I needed to give the wand to the Empress.

  No.

  Angry electricity crackled through me, lighting up my veins at the mere thought of it. A soft breeze ran through my hair, and the wand slid across the floor, smacking into my open palm. Its crystals glowed blue, filling me with their raw, confident power.

  I rose up to my knees and stared down at him “The Holy Wand is mine,” I said. “I’m not giving it to anyone.”

  He didn’t look away. Of course he didn’t. Julian was the chosen champion of the god of war. Intimidating him was impossible.

  His unwavering confidence was one of the many things I loved about him, even though all I wanted right now was to shock some sense into him.

  He leaned his back against the wall, his legs in front of him so his feet dangled off the edge of the bed. His shoes were still on, his socks pulled up so they were tucked under the elastic bands at the bottoms of his breeches. One of his socks—the left one—was ripped just above his ankle, leaving a bit of his skin exposed.

  It was probably a result of when I’d accidentally electrified the bottoms of his legs in the jungle. Guilt ripped through me at the memory. I must not have seen the tear until now because of the extra layers Gloriana had given us for our trek through the North. But at least the skin beneath it was undamaged.

  “You need to give the wand to the Empress,” he said, and I refocused on him, since in my attempt to temper my magic, I’d let my thoughts wander. “Then you can go home, to Avalon.”

  “You’re talking like you think I’m going to go back to Avalon without you,” I said.

  “I’d never choose to leave you,” he said, his expression pained with the thought of it. “But I’ll always look out for your best interests. Which is exactly what I’m doing now.”

  “Giving up the wand isn’t in my best interest,” I all but growled at him. “I know its power. I felt it today. I feel it now. If I give it to the Empress, we might never get it back.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “And you’re okay with your mom and sister never being freed?”

  He flinched, but allowed no emotion to cross his face. “As the immediate family members of a chosen champion, the Empire will give them a generous stipend for the rest of their lives,” he said. “Their futures were secured the moment I was chosen for the Games. My sister will be able to afford her medicine. She’ll be able to live a normal, healthy life.”

  “Being a slave is not a normal life,” I said.

  He pressed his lips together, and his eyes drifted off in thought. Finally, after a few tense seconds, he looked back at me. “Freeing all the half-bloods in the Otherworld is a goal, not a plan,” he said. “So, what’s your plan?”

  I sighed, since it was a good question, and one I wished I could answer. “Does this mean you’re open to the idea?” I asked.

  “It means I want to know your plan.”

  “I don’t have one yet.” I shrugged and sat back on my heels, holding onto the wand for support. “I hoped we could figure that out together.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out,” he said, and I sagged in defeat. “The only way to keep the wand is to stay in the Sanctuary, where the gods and the Empress can’t find you. If you return from exile and start freeing half-bloods, we’ll lose the Games.”

  “Will we?” I straightened, my voice rising in hope. Because after draining myself of nearly all my magic, I’d been pretty out of it at the end of that final arena fight. But something was tugging on the edges of my memory…

  “What were the Empress’s exact instructions for our task?” I asked.

  He creased his brow, like thinking back was taking serious effort. Which was odd, since Julian had an excellent memory. Especially with things like this.

  “She said we can only return to the citadel by bringing back the First Queen’s Holy Wand,” he finally said.

  “That’s it.” I smiled, and excitement flooded through me as I realized what we should have long ago. “This entire time, we thought we needed to give the wand to the Empress. But that’s not true. Because according to her exact words, we’ll win the Faerie Games the moment we bring the wand across the border into the citadel.”

  He nodded slowly, the corner of his lips curving up into a small smile. “A clever thought,” he said. “But what do you think the fae will do when you start using the wand to free their slaves? Because I can promise you, they’re not going to be happy with you. They’re certainly not going to give us tokens so
we can portal back to Avalon. And the half-bloods you manage to free will still be beginners with their magic. Even if they try to fight the fae, they won’t win.”

  “How did you already get three steps ahead of me?” I asked.

  “I’m the chosen champion of the god of war.” He smiled—a true smile—for the first time since we’d gotten back to the room. “Strategy is a part of war.”

  “All right,” I said, since at least he was hearing me out. “What if we don’t start freeing the half-bloods immediately? What if we wait until we get to Avalon and have the support of the Nephilim army behind us?”

  “An interesting line of thought.” He tilted his head and sat straighter. “But who’s to say Avalon will want to get involved in the problems of the Otherworld, when they’ve got their hands full with the demons on Earth?”

  “Avalon needs as much help against the demons as we can get,” I said, since this was something I’d already thought about. “Today we learned that half-bloods have magic as strong as the fae. If we free them, perhaps they’ll help us in return.”

  “An alliance,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “Hm.” He nodded as he thought it over. “We might be able to work with this.”

  Happiness burst through my chest. I let the wand fall against the wall, and then I pounced on top of Julian, giving him a giant hug.

  He squeezed me tight, like he never wanted to let me go. I could stay with him like that forever. But I pulled back and looked down at him. My eyes drifted toward his lips, and I slowly closed the space between us.

  He moved away, and my heart dropped at his rejection.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “But we have a full night of strategizing ahead of us. And as much as I’d love to ‘worship you,’ as Elder Jarlath so elegantly stated, we need to stay focused.”

  “Five minutes?” I grazed my hand over the hardness in his breeches and smiled mischievously.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, and I knew I had him.

  But then he leaned back and shook his head. “We can’t waste any time,” he said, and the words were like knives in my heart. “Not even five minutes—especially because I’m sure we’d be longer than that.”

  “Fine.” I huffed, although I moved to sit beside him, since he was right. “Then let’s strategize.”

  He gave me a quick kiss, careful not to let it become anything more. Then he pulled me closer so I was snuggled up right next to him, and together, we created a plan.

  43

  Torrence

  Attempting to teleport with four magical objects that we knew practically nothing about—and Sage and Thomas in tow—was too big of a risk. Especially given the massive size of the Nemean lion’s hide.

  So we took the yacht back to Nassau and headed to the airport, where the Montgomery jet was waiting for us. We loaded the objects inside the plane, careful not to touch Aphrodite’s girdle, handling the phoenix egg with care, and stuffing the lion’s hide in the back near Circe’s staff.

  Once everything was in place, I sent King Devin a fire message. In it, I let him know our estimated time of arrival in Caracas, and that we’d need a car—a big car—to pick us up.

  A minute later, a burst of fire appeared in my hand. It died down to reveal a piece of parchment in my palm.

  I opened it and scanned the contents of the letter. “He agrees to our requests,” I said, and then I rolled the parchment back up. “Time to head out.”

  In the plane, I sat as far away from Reed as possible. He still hadn’t told me anything more about how mages use dark magic. He was purposefully withholding the information, and it pissed me off.

  I curled my hand into fists, and the tops of my fingers tingled with magic. Dark magic. Magic that I instinctively knew would hurt him with a touch.

  Do it, I thought. Make him scream in pain until he gives me the answers I deserve.

  “Is it smart to trust King Devin’s guards to pick us up?” Reed asked, yanking me out of my thoughts.

  “Why wouldn’t it be smart?” Sage asked.

  I relaxed my hands, and the magic tingling at my fingers disappeared.

  What had I been thinking? Torturing the information out of Reed? Sage and Thomas would have put an immediate stop to it. Plus, three mages lived on Avalon. Reed’s older sisters. I could ask them for answers once we were back home.

  That’s what I’d do. Reed might be secretive, but surely his sisters would help me.

  “Because what’s stopping King Devin from ambushing us and taking the objects the moment we land?” Reed asked.

  “We made a blood oath with him,” I said. “He’s obligated to follow through on his end of the deal. If he doesn’t, he’ll die.”

  “Plus, navigating the slums of Caracas by ourselves would be incredibly dangerous,” Thomas added. “And there are politics at play that go far deeper than the task King Devin sent us on.” Reed huffed at the mention of politics, but Thomas continued, “The Tower relies on the Nephilim army to protect their kingdom from the demons. King Devin’s a misogynistic ass, but he isn’t stupid. He won’t ruin his alliance with Avalon.”

  “And if he tries,” Sage said. “We’ll take him down.”

  Thomas nodded and placed his hand against the wall of the plane. Then, even though there was no pilot in the cockpit, the plane rolled to the start of the runway, sped up, and took off.

  44

  Torrence

  A bulletproof Hummer limo was waiting on the tarmac when we landed in Caracas. Other, smaller cars were behind it, and shifter guards got out of them to ensure we made it from the plane into the limo. There were no vampire guards, since it was daylight.

  The guards’ cars surrounded us on the drive through the dilapidated slums that wound around the hilly outskirts of the city.

  I knew Caracas was falling apart, but what I saw was heartbreaking. Unwashed, scraggly animals sniffed at piles of trash lining the streets. Dirty, gaunt humans dressed in rags scurried out of the way as we drove by. Many were women and children. A few men with thick scars stood their ground on the side of the road, murder in their sunken eyes as we passed.

  Gunshots cracked in the distance. I flinched at the few that twanged against our vehicle, but the four of us remained silent, sitting straight and on guard.

  Guns were one of the big reasons why supernaturals stayed under the humans’ radar. We could only block and swerve around so many bullets at once. And the technology of guns reacted poorly with our magic. They went off unpredictably, fired backward, and even exploded in our hands. They were simply too hazardous for us to use.

  “There’s a highway going straight into the center of the city,” I observed. “Why’s he taking us this way?”

  “Likely a scare tactic,” Sage said. “And one we won’t fall for.”

  Still, I looked to Thomas. “You can probably use a gun, can’t you?” I asked. “With your gift?”

  “I can,” he said. “And I have.”

  I wanted to ask more, but it was clear from his stoic expression that he wouldn’t answer. So I nodded and stared back out the window.

  We continued the rest of the drive in silence.

  Once we passed the humming, electric border fence of the kingdom, I could finally breathe and look around. The skyscrapers inside gleamed like a blue, taller version of the Emerald City. The streets were clean, the greenery was manicured to perfection, and even the sun seemed to shine brighter inside the kingdom’s perimeter.

  The streets were pretty empty, since the Tower—like all vampire kingdoms—kept a nocturnal schedule. But King Devin waited for us at the entrance of the central tower, which was so tall that it went up into the clouds. The shadow of the looming building protected him from the sun, but he still wore a black cloak with the hood pulled over his head.

  A semicircle of women with chains around their ankles and wrists—witches—stood behind him. They were fully on display in their short,
tight black dresses and tall black heels with red soles. But their eyes were downturned, none of them daring to look at us.

  “Welcome, young travelers,” King Devin said as we exited the vehicle. “You have all four objects that I asked for?”

  “We do,” I said.

  King Devin sneered at me. But I held my gaze with his, daring him to make a move against me.

  He didn’t.

  “Very well,” he said. “My witches will examine them, to ensure they’re not forgeries.”

  “I can assure you that they’re not,” Thomas said.

  “I believe you.” King Devin smiled, his teeth unnaturally white. “But my witches will examine them, just in case.”

  One of the witches risked a glance up at me.

  Let him do it, her desperate eyes seemed to say.

  “All right.” I motioned to the limo, its door still open. “They’re in there. Do your thing. We’ll wait here.”

  “You misunderstand,” King Devin said. “My witches will thoroughly examine them in the apothecary. The four of you will be given suites in the Tower until they verify the authenticity of the objects.”

  Thomas stepped forward, his jaw set. “As you know, time is of the essence,” he said. “Our mage—Reed—can demonstrate their authenticity right here, just as he did for your jacket spun with thread from Ariadne’s web.”

  Reed looked at King Devin and rubbed his palms together in excitement. “A demonstration might be more fun to watch,” he said. “Shall I use Circe’s staff to turn you into a pig?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, stifling a laugh.

  I was angry at Reed. I was not allowed to find anything he said funny.

  King Devin’s smile vanished. “Not unless you wish to be locked in the dungeon for attacking the king of the Tower,” he said. “Besides, I only trust the analysis of the witches that serve me. So, like I said, the four of you will be given suites in the Tower. Like the ones you stayed in before, they’ll be fitting for your stations of ambassadors from Avalon. Then, once the objects are authenticated, I’ll complete my end of the deal.”