by Allie Burton
“Hands up!” the female elf repeated. She jabbed a sharp stick, coming within inches of my chest.
Rye stepped in front of me, taking a protective position. My heartbeat quickened, and I wanted to trace my fingers across his broad shoulders. Totally inappropriate thought at this moment. He held his hands in a flattened karate-chop position, instead of fists. Did he know the ancient defensive arts? With no weapon—against a dozen majiks with powers—he’d lose quickly.
I recognized more majiks in the background. Some laid or sat on the ground. Others leaned up against the walls, interested but not participating.
Rye glanced back and whispered, “Just as my uncle said, zaubers are all bad. They want to kill us.”
My head swam. I’d thought he was different, even though the same thing had been drilled into me at school.
The female elf growled and raised her pointy stick. Elves had excellent hearing and she must’ve heard Rye.
Hmm. Why are the majiks using fists and rocks and sharpened sticks? They could use magic.
“We’re not here to harm you.” I held my empty hands higher to prove my point. They’d called me human, so they believed without a weapon I was defenseless. Since I didn’t know how to use my powers, in a way I was. Guess, I should’ve started training before I needed my powers in an emergency.
“You’re human.” The elf jabbed with her stick and the movement caused her deep red bangs to slosh across her forehead. “Of course you want to harm us.”
There was that word again. Human. All my life, I wanted to be recognized as one. After the way Arbor, and my fairy godmother, and now the majiks I’d met on this journey, had pronounced the word, I wanted to shout I was a fairy. My gut jittered. I wasn’t confident Rye wouldn’t turn away in disgust or abandon me on my quest. He was right about one thing. I did enjoy having a companion, especially one who gave romantic kisses.
“Why do you think humans want to harm you?” His fierce expression said he believed the exact opposite.
The elf, who appeared to be around my age, moved as fast as lightning and stuck the stick against Rye’s throat. The point pressed against his jugular. He’d had no time to react. “Because humans stuck us in this hellhole.”
She had a point. Literally.
“Not us. We don’t want to hurt you.” I stepped beside him and pushed away the stick. “I’m Elle, and this is Rye. We’re not guards, and we don’t work in the palace.”
The elf pursed her lips in a fierce scowl and repositioned her stick near my face. A jeweled necklace tied together with twigs hung low on her neck. She wore brown breeches and a cape with a tight top underneath.
Rye tensed behind me. He must be worried we’d die right here. The majiks were only defending themselves.
“If anything, we want to help you.” The minute I spoke the words, I knew the truth of it. The certainty settled in my soul and centered me. Yes, I wanted to find Arbor. But I couldn’t ignore the plight of the majiks. I’d already helped Jayunja.
“Why would a couple of humans want to help us?” The female elf acted as leader of this ragtag group.
Tilting closer, Rye whispered, “We should slip through the rock and get out of here. I don’t trust them.”
I bristled and caught the attention of the elf, who’d probably heard his comments. Her gaze narrowed. “I’m trying to find a friend of mine. A smoke sprite.”
“Anyone willing to enter Zauber Tomb of free will is either brave or crazy.” The elf gave the signal to the other majiks and they relaxed their positions, although none of them let their guard down completely. “I’m Keltie.”
I’d been called a lot of things, although never crazy even though this quest had insane written all over it. “You’re right, Keltie. I probably am crazy.”
I might not find my friend, but I wasn’t giving up. And in the process, I was discovering truths about myself and what I really wanted. For example, I didn’t want to only be known as human. At least to some.
Rye relaxed his hands and let his arms drop to his sides. “Brave.”
My lungs expanded, and I pulled my shoulders straighter. For the first time since my dad’s death, I felt brave.
The cavern we entered appeared more disgusting than the trash chute and half the size of my tiny attic room. Stench permeated the hole. Dark and dirty with piles of garbage laying around. Cramped with a dozen majiks. The only light came through the crystalline rock. The ragtag group with weapons stayed near.
“What is this place?” Rye didn’t hide his disgust.
“A hidden tunnel from Zauber Tomb.” Keltie used her stick to jab at the ground. “We thought we’d found an escape, except we can’t get out.”
The fairies in the room didn’t know how to ask Mother Earth? I figured I’d show them once they answered a few questions. I scanned the vicinity and caught on something I originally thought was a small pile of garbage.
It wasn’t.
A small brownie lay against a wall several feet away, her head coated in blood. She wore a long, green skirt with a matching vest. She clutched a pointy hat in her hands.
“What happened?” Reaching in my bag, I searched for my magic ointment.
Keltie and the other majiks raised the makeshift weapons again. Tension escalated between us. A large ogre wearing only baggy shorts dove in front of the brownie.
An ogre defending a brownie. Now, I’d seen everything. Their legendary battles were written about in history books.
I stopped a few feet away. Slowly, I took my hand out of the bag to show I didn’t have a weapon. “I have something in my bag to help heal wounds.”
“She does.” Rye charged beside me, again protecting me. My own personal defender. “She used an ointment to heal a huge gash on a troll.”
I raised my chin to a proud angle. First because I had helped, and second because he bragged on me.
A chorus of oohs and ahs echoed around the small cavern. The majiks’ reaction was a mix of surprise, disdain, and disbelief.
“You’re a healer.” Keltie sized me up and nodded in a superior way. “Let the human take a look.”
The weapons were put down and I kneeled at the brownie’s side. “My name is Elle.”
Rye snorted.
“I’m Tos.” Her over-round eyes darted, and her tiny body shrank into the ground. A large scratch ran across the brownie’s bald head. Her ear had been ripped.
“That cut is deep.” Majiks fighting majiks was common. “How did this happen?”
“We were waiting in the holding cell near the auraguillotine.” Her high, squeaky voice filled with emotion. “The collection time was drawing near.”
One of the SCUM had used the same term—auraguillotine—at my house.
She held up her hand. “One of the guards took pity on me because of my size.”
“The guard thought you were a child not a teenager,” Keltie scoffed.
Tos stuck out her tongue at the elf, showing no fear of reprisal. “The guard opened a small grate in the collection room and let me go through. Some of the other majiks noticed, and a stampede started.”
“A stampede to move toward the auraguillotine?” Rye didn’t believe any of the brownie’s story.
“No. To escape.” Tos jumped to her pointy toes to demonstrate. “The other majiks saw their chance and pushed and shoved through the grate. They trampled me.”
“Sorry.” A fairy nearby flapped his wings.
“Me, too,” another ogre grunted.
I held my breath, waiting to hear what happened next. They’d all survived. They were here, together. They’d escaped.
“Ugoki protected me while the others trampled.” The brownie hugged the ogre’s slimy bare leg. “Keltie grabbed me off the ground and carried me away.” Tos let go of Ugoki’s leg and hugged the elf.
The good will between these three normally arguing types of majiks lifted my spirits. Brownies and elves were known to fight over the forests. Their wars were sources of legends and taught even in human scho
ol. And ogres were just grumpy.
“What happened to the guard?” Rye scowled, his expression sour.
Why would he care what happened to a mean guard? Although since the guard let Tos free, maybe he wasn’t so cruel.
“He was fine. Slammed the grate closed after me.” Ugoki’s chuckle imitated a rasp. “Probably got in trouble from his superiors.”
“We worked our way through the small tunnel, met Hokima,” Keltie waved her hands at a troll standing nearby. “and ended up here. Now, we’re stuck.”
All the majiks in the room had worked together to escape. They’d formed a team to defend themselves against me and Rye when we’d entered. They’d worked together.
I shoved my hand in my bag. Hmm. The only items inside were a lipstick, comb, and mirror. None of those things would help cure wounds. Focusing on the ointment, I stuck my hand inside the bag again. My hand came up empty. Could I be too far underground for the magic in the bag to work? I shoved my hand back in the bag and imagined any kind of first aid. Gardenia had said I needed to think of what I wanted, and it would magically appear.
Nothing happened. It wasn’t working.
“Are you looking for this?” Rye held the ointment in his hand.
Good thing he’d picked up the tube when I finished working on the troll. If I’d put it back in the bag, it might have disappeared.
I squeezed the ointment onto my finger and smoothed it along the brownie’s cut, hoping that even though my magic bag wasn’t working, the ointment would. Once I helped the majiks through the crystalline rock, Rye could direct them out the way he’d gotten below the palace.
Tos pointed at my decorative bag. “Do you have any food?”
“Are you hungry?” I tore off a strip of material from my skirt and wrapped it around the brownie’s head as a makeshift bandage.
She nodded and so did everyone else.
“How long has it been since you ate?” Rye must care about majiks, even though he did call them zaubers. He was a good guy.
“Days.” Tos sounded weak and afraid.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any food.” If the bag was working, I could’ve given them a feast. Brushing off my hands, I stood. Time to get back to business. “Has anyone seen a smoke sprite named Arbor?” I held up my hands a few inches apart. “She’s about this big and has multi-colored hair?”
Keltie shook her head. Her red braid whipped back and forth.
Rye angled toward the elf with a curious expression. “What did you do to become imprisoned?”
“Nothing.” Her pointy ears went red.
“You must’ve done something, or you wouldn’t be here.” He acted like a judge, leaning forward aggressively.
I scowled. Why didn’t he believe her? Arbor had been arrested for doing nothing. She and Keltie were similar to birds with their wings clipped unfairly. Imprisoned through no fault of their own.
The elf’s green gaze narrowed. “My mother was dragged out of our home because she met with an unsanctioned group of elves.”
“What do you mean unsanctioned?” I’d never heard of an unsanctioned or a sanctioned group.
“It’s a new law being discussed.” Rye dismissed the elf’s claim. “The law hasn’t been put into effect yet.”
“Tell that to the SCUM who attacked our house with my younger brothers and sisters inside.” Keltie’s voice went frigid.
A shiver passed through me. “That’s criminal.”
“But how did you get arrested?” He accepted the reason for her mother’s arrest, as if it was okay to be arrested for something so innocent.
My face tightened, and I crossed my arms.
Red, as dark as her hair, stained Keltie’s cheeks. Her stance stayed defiant. “I tried to stop the SCUM from taking my mother.”
“By attacking the authorities?” His wide eyes and dropped jaw showed his disbelief. He didn’t understand most citizens didn’t like the SCUM.
“They were hurting my mother.” She stomped her stick on the ground. “In front of her children.”
Where were her brothers and sisters now?
“What happened at your trial? Did they understand the extenuating circumstances?” Rye whipped out question after question.
His official tone sent a chill down my back. Whose side was he on? One minute being kind and considerate, helping Jayunja and me, the next going on a verbal attack.
Hokima tugged on a bedraggled blue sash around his neck. “Majiks don’t get a trial. We end up in the dungeon until they feed us to the auraguillotine. Never to return to our parents.”
“They take our families, too. I’ll never see my baby brothers and sisters again.” Keltie sounded small and sad, the exact opposite of the fierce leader she’d proved herself to be.
I gulped. “What is this auraguillotine?”
I couldn’t imagine what it did and why it scared them so much.
Keltie’s bottom lip quivered. Tos’ eyes went so wide she resembled a kewpie doll more than a brownie. Hokima grimaced. All three shook their heads. Did they not want to talk about it or tell me? They must not trust me enough with the information.
Rye ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “What about you? Why are you in prison?”
Ugoki glared. “I picked plants from a human’s garden. Only weeds, something a human would pluck and throw away from the precious wheat growing. The SCUM arrested me.”
“You were guilty.” Rye nodded, satisfied with the answer.
“Of trying to feed my family,” the ogre growled. “My parents are too old to work, and I’m not allowed to travel to the part of the city where I had a job. I had no way of earning creds. No way to provide for them.”
The ogre’s chuckle and smirk disappeared. I could hear his pain and patted his shoulder.
“What about you?” Rye challenged a gangly teenage fairy with a handsome face, cherubic cheeks, and narrow lips. “Why were you sent to prison?”
“Murder.”
A sudden coldness hit my core. The fairy with an angelic face and thin as a pole body committed murder? His loose shirt and pants hung on his frame. No muscles or malice that I could detect. “What? Who?”
He shrugged his thin shoulders. “The SCUM threatened to kill my parents unless I confessed to a crime. I figured if I was going to confess, I should confess to a big one.”
Shaking my head, I stared at the fairy. The same thing could’ve happened to me. I was a fairy. I’d heard rumors about forced confessions. Here was proof.
“The Security Unit—” Rye glanced around at the majiks. “I mean the SCUM who forced your confession must’ve been punished by their superiors.”
He had noble beliefs. People who had money and were shielded must not hear what was really happening on the streets. My spine crumpled. I’d thought the same before Arbor started pointing out the injustices.
“I haven’t heard. Then again, I’m not cozy with the SCUM.” The fairy insinuated maybe Rye was.
“What happened to you?” Rye reeled toward Hokima. The gorgeous guy sounded desperate to find one guilty majik.
“I came through the crystalline rock to find my girlfriend.” Hokima’s globby eyes secreted more liquid. “And now I can’t get out.”
“We found him wandering in the tunnels.” Keltie pointed to a large boulder in the cavern. “He led us to this spot.”
“You weren’t arrested?” Rye kept hammering at the same point.
“No.” The troll heaved a big sigh and his large stomach rumbled. “I wanted to save Xefroz. She’s everything to me.”
My heart softened. I hadn’t realized the extent a troll could love, which made me as bad as the humans. Thinking of other majiks, not fairies, as being less.
Not anymore. I’d helped the troll in the arena, and I’d administered first aid to a brownie. Keltie, an elf, had saved the brownie and now was the leader of this little group. Ugoki had protected Tos, too. The majiks were working together for their survival.
Unlike th
eir bloody past.
For example, the time the ogres decimated the brownies in the Crystal War. Or when the elves put a curse on the sprites. Or the Bloody Battle between the giants and the fairies.
“This is an intolerable situation.” Rye waved his arm in an arc resembling a salute and turned it into a wave.
I admired how he might care about the majiks, even while using the slur. “What can we do?”
“I’ll tell the Regent what’s happening. Make him see how the majiks are being treated.”
The ogre started with his horrible chuckle. Keltie, Hokima, and the fairy joined in. Tos added her high-pitched giggle. Maybe they laughed because they couldn’t cry. Not after the injustices they’d faced.
Their off-key laughs thrust like a dagger in my midsection, pinching my anger to a sharp point. Rye made it sound so easy. As if a citizen could waltz up to the regent and have a conversation about injustice. I massaged my temples, sensing the beginning of a headache.
“The royal family doesn’t care about the majiks.” I thought about my daily fears. “The rules are getting more and more restrictive. They can’t work for a living. They can’t do magic. They can’t take care of their families. And now they can’t even meet as a group.”
The troll swiped the snot from his large nose. “The only thing the royal family cares about is the majiks’ power.”
“That’s not true. I don’t think that.” Rye’s brows gathered in ferocious determination. “The prince doesn’t think that.”
Misgiving trickled slowly through my bloodstream. How closely aligned was he to the palace? “How do you know?”
Keltie raised her stick toward him. “Yeah. How do you know?”
I wanted to trust Rye, except I’d just met him. He was familiar with the palace and knew the laws being discussed, or ones being implemented before being passed. If he was so close to royalty, what was he doing beneath the palace with me? Helping me? Wanting to help majiks?
Or did he?
Fear flashed in his expression. “I know the prince. I’ll talk to him.”
Keltie lowered her weapon, deeming him not a threat. “It’s the regent who holds the real power.”
His jaw clenched. “He did hold the power. The…prince is now of age and will be taking control of the kingdom.”
