by S. T. Bende
“I see.” Rafe scanned the cavern. His eyes settled on the far corner. “Have you performed energetic scans on the realm?”
“The Empati have run checks, but . . .” I shrugged. “Nothing’s turned up.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Rafe’s gaze hadn’t shifted. “And have they run dark scans?”
Crazy älva said what? “I’m sorry?”
“Dark scans—searches designed to see through protections not native to the light realm.”
“I’m sure they scanned for everything,” I hedged. “My understanding is that Empati can spot any blocker. Those originating from a dark entity carry one signature, and those from light entities carry another. When they identify either of those, they can put a trace on the location, and work on figuring out how to disable it.”
“Yes,” Rafe said carefully. “But what of blockers set by neutral entities? Energetic warriors with fealty to neither the dark nor the light realms?”
Viggo’s torso stiffened at my side. “Like a mercenary?”
“More along the lines of someone who sees the benefit in learning to utilize both sides of the energetic coin, and employing it for the greatest good of all. I have an idea.” Rafe walked down the steps that led to the cavern. He motioned for us, and Viggo and I hurried after him.
We continued in silence, weaving through the throng of wings and bodies and smells. A few of the adults shot us curious looks, but the kids didn’t seem to notice we were there. They ran across our path, too intent on chasing balls and each other to realize there were newcomers in their top secret settlement.
My stomach rumbled as the savory tang of meat hit my nostrils. I stared longingly at the buffet just a few feet away from the path we walked. It was loaded with breads and meats and vegetables and fruits and what I could only assume was elephant-sheep cheese. We must have been honing in on dinnertime . . . and my academy-scheduled stomach hadn’t been fed since breakfast.
“Viggo,” I hissed. I tilted my head toward the food table. “Any chance you can snag some of that? It’s on your side.”
“Rafe’s carrying a sword thicker than my arm,” Viggo whispered back. “Do you really want me to mess with him?”
“Kind of,” I admitted. “I’m hungry. And he said he’d feed us, right?”
Rafe hung a right at the end of the aisle. With one last longing glance at my would-be meal, I followed him to the far side of the room. Viggo slipped his hand around mine as Rafe stopped in front of a large drafting table. A winged girl hunched over the desk, sketching intently. Long, dark hair with indigo highlights hung over one side of her face, obscuring it from view. The side I could see was scrunched in concentration. Her emerald eyes narrowed as she moved her pencil across the paper.
“Maja,” Rafe said softly.
The girl didn’t look up.
“Maja,” Rafe said, this time placing his hand atop her arm.
She jumped, her pencil leaving a trail of grey across the drawing. “Dad! What?”
“Maja,” Raja’s voice carried a slight edge. “I want to introduce you to someone.”
His daughter tilted her head. She glanced quickly at Viggo, but as she tucked her hair behind her shoulder, her eyes settled on me. I’d been off about their color. Instead of being pure emerald like Rafe’s and Viggo’s, Maja’s pupils were surrounded by a rim of a different hue, one that was almost purple. Her ivory skin covered her angular cheekbones, and each of her ears were decorated with silver cuffs and rings. They matched the silver ribbons she’d braided into her hair. Her wings, the same silver shade as Viggo’s, glittered like her father’s. And though her frame was slight, her arms carried the telltale muscles of someone whose life depended on being able to take care of themselves.
Maja was one badass älva.
“Viggo, Aura. This is my daughter. Maja, this is your cousin, Viggo. And Aura, Alfheim’s new ruler.”
“Co-ruler,” I corrected. “And it’s nice to meet you.”
“New ruler.” Maja’s eyes narrowed. “And will you carry on the practice of forcing älva to serve the greater good?”
Viggo’s hand tightened around mine.
“I was unaware of that practice until today,” I said calmly. “But it’s certainly not one I endorse. Nor do I intend to allow it to continue.”
“Is that so?” Maja challenged.
“Absolutely.”
Maja stared at me for what felt like forever. I held my ground, unwilling to show how unnerved I was by her indigo-emerald glare. Maybe walking into a cavern filled with refugees who had a justifiable bone to pick with my grandmother hadn’t been my brightest idea.
I shifted the hand not holding Viggo’s to the hilt of my dagger. Maja watched the movement, then shrugged. She picked up her pencil, and resumed drawing.
My eyes sought out Viggo’s. Is that it?
“Maja.” Rafe plucked the pencil from her hand. She pinned him with an irritated glare that would have intimidated the Helheim out of me, but seemed to be a non-issue to her father. “You need to welcome your cousin and your queen.”
“Co-ruler,” I corrected again. “Just call me Aura. Really.”
Maja leaned back in her chair. “And why would I do that?”
“Because we need them to help us free those we’ve lost,” Rafe said. “And they need you to help them free their politicians.”
Her? Don’t they have somebody else who could help us? Maybe someone just a little less hostile?
Maja snorted. “If politicians are trapped somewhere, how is that a bad thing?”
“Because these politicians will vote in alignment with our beliefs,” Rafe explained. “They can return Alfheim to the realm it once was.”
Maja’s snark slipped slightly. “A realm where we could go anywhere?”
“Yes,” Rafe said quietly.
“All of us. Including Emilie? Would she be free again?”
My throat tightened. “Who’s Emilie?”
“My sister.” Maja’s eyes blazed. “She was taken to the camps over a year ago. She was patrolling our southern border, and she crossed the barrier to deter a trespasser. It turned out to be a soldier—one who, apparently, would earn a big reward for capturing another älva. My sister’s patrol partner heard the exchange over her communicator, but she wasn’t able to reach her in time. Emilie was bound and the transport had gone before Fila got halfway to her station.”
Icicles traipsed my spine. “That’s terrible.”
“It is,” Maja said coldly. “So, forgive me if I’m not overly excited to meet you, Your Majesty.”
“Hey. That’s not fair,” I said. “I had nothing to do with any of that.”
“But you haven’t done anything to fix it, have you?”
“She didn’t know.” Viggo’s voice was a low rumble. “Neither of us did. Listen, we’re sorry for your loss. Truly, we are. But you need to get that Aura’s trying to create a different Alfheim—one where everyone is free to be who they are, without fear and without judgment. It’s horrible that your sister was taken, but if you want her back, you’ll get off Aura’s case and get on our side.”
Maja’s eyes narrowed before she shifted her gaze to me. It took everything I had to not blink.
“Fine,” Maja finally said. “I’m in.”
I glanced at Viggo. “In?”
“I’ll help you,” Maja said slowly. “But it doesn’t mean I want anything else to do with you.”
“I . . . uh . . .” I closed my mouth. I had no idea what to think about this girl.
Viggo crossed his arms. “You don’t like us.”
“No,” Maja said. “I don’t.”
“You don’t know us,” I pointed out.
Maja flipped one of her silver-ribboned braids over her shoulder. “Viggo. My cousin. You’re an älva with an unnatural blend of light and dark energy. You’re a full-blood, so the darkness isn’t genetic; it must come from time spent off-realm. You’re fiercely protective, possess a sizeable ego, and have an inexplicable li
nk to her.” Maja jutted her chin at me, before closing her eyes. “You’re either her defender, or her . . . ew. You’re mates?”
My eyes widened. How did she get all of that?
“Were you briefed before we arrived?” I glanced around. Was there some Eunice equivalent in älva country?
“I didn’t have to be.” Maja rolled her eyes. “And you. Aura the ruler. You have an unusual blend of light and dark as well. You’re not full-blooded, so that darkness may actually be genetic.” She closed her eyes. “Oh, that’s rich. Our new ruler is part dark elf? And she claims to be here to help us?”
“I am here to help you.” I spoke through gritted teeth.
“If you say so.” Maja opened her eyes. “You’re insecure, unsure how to handle your darkness, and you’re absolutely terrified of failing as miserably as the ruler before you. There. Now I know you.”
“Maja,” Rafe hissed.
I raised my hand. “No. She’s right.” Freakishly right. “How did you figure all of that out?”
Maja shrugged. “I read you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you an Empati?”
“We don’t get fancy titles here,” Maja said.
“Can you control energy?” I rephrased.
“Yes.” Maja snatched her pencil from Rafe. “Now can I get back to work?”
Rafe let out an exasperated sigh. “Maja does control energy. But not in the way an Empati, or a dark elf might. She is a genetic contradiction—half älva, half Svartish. Her mother is from the dark realm.”
My breath caught in my throat. “She’s like me.”
Maja’s nostrils flared. “I’m nothing like you. I’m well aware of who I am, and what I’m here to do.”
“And who are you?” Viggo asked.
“I’m Maja Sorenssön.” She raised her chin proudly. “I protect our homeland with blockers that have never been broken, and curses that are impenetrable . . . though clearly, I’ll need to rework the formulation on whichever one you managed to glitch through. I am the protector of the Northern Faerie Corps, and the liaison between all of our branches.”
“And what are you?” Viggo pressed.
“In that, I am just like Aura.” My heart stilled as Maja looked me dead in the eye. “I’m a dark faerie.”
Chapter 12
“I’M SORRY. I’M NOT a dark anything.” I shook my head.
“You’re a halfling. Half älva, half dark elf. Same as me.” Maja stared me down.
“Aura’s the crown princess of a light realm,” Viggo said calmly. “No matter what her genetics, she’s light. Period.”
“Tell yourself whatever you want.” Maja shrugged. “It’s just a label, anyway.”
“Labels can get you killed around here.” My voice wavered, and I bit on the inside of my cheek.
“You think I don’t know that?” Maja leaned forward, her eyes blazing. “I’ve spent my entire life mapping out every conceivable way to keep your government away from my family. My parents built the colony itself, but I’m the one who’s protected it with curses, blockers, and energetic weapons your warriors have never even heard of. While you’ve been running around your precious palace, enjoying your freedom, I’ve been developing acid clouds and crystal barriers so my people can have a semblance of a normal life. So, don’t talk to me about the dangers of labels. Princess.”
Viggo shifted so he stood slightly in front of me. His hand once again gripped his dagger. “I think we should leave.”
“Maybe we should,” I gritted.
“Go ahead.” Maja turned her attention back to her drawing. “It’s not like you were actually going to help us, anyway.”
“Maja,” Rafe admonished. “That’s quite enough.”
I winced as my molars pierced my cheek. Releasing my bite, I moved beside Viggo. “What is your problem with me?”
“You’re weak.” Maja resumed her sketching. “You’re actually in a position to make a difference, but you’re too scared to do anything about it.”
“Watch it.” Viggo’s tone carried a hint of a threat. “Aura’s traveled hundreds of miles to track literally anything that will help us find our missing senators—the ones who can kick Narrik out of office, and restore our realm before it destroys itself. She fought off a dark elf and a Huldra and forced the queen to accept her as an equal. She is the farthest thing from weak, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll apologize to her right now.”
Maja’s eyes flickered. “Are you done?”
A low growl erupted from Viggo’s throat, but I placed my hand on his arm. “This is a dead end. She doesn’t have any idea where our senators are, and we’re losing time. Rafe, I’m sorry to have bothered you. If you hear anything about where the missing might be, send word to the academy.”
I turned on one heel and walked away.
“I never said I don’t know where your senators are.” Maja’s words brought me to a stop.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
My wings stilled and I rotated slowly. “If you have information about our senators, you have to tell us.”
“They’re in the south—in a cave not far from our sister colony. But you’ll never be able to get to them. You aren’t strong enough.”
“Watch me,” I ground out.
“Please.” Maja pointed one black-polished fingernail. “You can barely use your light powers. How are you going to get past the dark blockers?”
Crêpes. The senators were behind dark blockers?
“How do you know what Aura can do?” Viggo challenged.
“Because she’s an open freaking book.” Maja rolled her eyes. “I’ve been reading energy signatures since I was a baby. And hers is practically screaming with desperation. The potential is there—in fact, it’s greater than any I’ve seen before, besides mine of course. But it’s untapped and underdeveloped. Whatever they’re teaching you in that palace isn’t going to do a thing against the entities that are moving on Alfheim.”
“If you’re aware of a threat to the realm, disclosing it would benefit us both,” I said.
“It would,” Maja agreed. “But I’ve seen what your government does when faced with a perceived threat. You’ll forgive me if I don’t subject my family to servitude.”
Rafe stepped forward to tap the desk. “This schematic Maja is working on . . . it’s intended to be an extractor. One we’ve planned to use on our members being held within the camps. It requires significant power—more than Maja, or any of our residents possess on their own. If you are as strong as Maja believes you can be, perhaps combining your powers might be enough to break the hold and free our brothers and sisters.”
“It would take years to get her to the level she’d need to be.” Maja rolled her eyes. “And like she said, she’s just wasting her time here.”
“I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll study, or train, or do whatever it takes to help you free the älva. But in exchange, you have to help us extract our senators, too.”
Viggo stood steady at my side.
Maja’s eyes narrowed. “You’d be willing to tap into your Svartish side? Develop your dark gifts, as well as your light ones?”
“As I said.” I crossed my arms. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help my people.”
Maja’s eyes flashed, and for a second I glimpsed a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like hope. But in a blink it was gone, replaced with Maja’s signature scowl.
“Whatever.” She resumed her drawing. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” I declared.
My stomach rumbled in dissent.
“You’re hungry,” Rafe deduced. “You both must be. Come. We’ll get you fed and settled into one of our vacant residential quarters. Your work with my daughter may take some time.”
“We don’t have much,” I said. “The longer our senators are missing, the sicker our realm gets.”
“Then Maja will work quickly to teach you,” Rafe said. “Won�
�t she?”
“Yes,” Maja muttered without glancing up.
“Good. Now, come with me. I’ll show you where we eat, and introduce you to the rest of my family. The more polite members.” Rafe patted Maja’s back, and walked toward the banquet. With one more glance at the girl who seemed to hate me, I laced my fingers through Viggo’s and followed Rafe through the cavern.
Something told me I’d taken on more than I’d bargained for.
Later that night, Viggo and I were sprawled across the two couches in our temporary living quarters. Rafe had put us in a two-bedroom suite adjacent to Maja’s, and even my proximity to the broody girl couldn’t dampen my awe at the level of luxury these älva had managed to bring to a cave. I’d expected the quarters to be sparse—rough walls, plenty of darkness, maybe a mat for a bed. Instead, Viggo and I now lounged in the equivalent of a Midgardian five-star hotel. Thick, downy comforters sat atop the four-poster beds that took the place of honor in each bedroom. The living area had two full-length couches that framed a dark-wood coffee table, and a small dining table that was nestled against an actual living wall—one lined from floor to ceiling with ivy, moss, and flowering green plants, the likes of which I’d never seen back home. And while the rest of the walls were indeed carved out of stone, they were illuminated with sconces bearing flameless candles. A chandelier hung from the center of the living area, its own lights adjusting their intensity whenever Viggo or I said the words brighten or dim. I doubted there was any kind of electricity running through the rocks, which meant the lights were powered by whatever kind of magic ran inside the faeries’ wings. Are Viggo and I going to get that power? Better talk to Rafe about it.
Later.
The day had fully exhausted me. After we’d eaten, Rafe had introduced us to his wife, Syrra, and the rest of the warriors that made up his council. The Northern Faerie Corps was governed by a group of elected advisors. Unlike Alfheim’s government, there was no singular leader, nor was there a senate to overrule major decisions. Instead, the council reached accords through a vote, effecting policies beneficial to the entirety of the colony with minimal drama. It was a streamlined process—one that had worked for the faeries so far.
