CHAPTER NINE
EILISH
Geldingstock
Fae Realm
A brilliant white light blinds me, consuming my entire body. I can feel the power of its essence seeping into me, invading my skin. The power roars through me with a surge of energy that forces the sickness out of me, a sickness that’s been living as a parasite inside me for too long.
And then there’s nothing but the searing shriek of pain. Bright, blinding, and relentless agony that wages an uncompromising battle against my entire being.
My heart beats in outrage against the sting that invades each drop of my blood, spreading its throbbing anguish into every muscle and fiber of my body. The agony envelops me until it feels like my form is nothing more than pain itself, a beating manifestation of the misery contained within.
Before this, I’d been swimming in a body of warm water that soothed me with each gently rocking wave. But now, that buoyancy is nowhere to be found. Instead, I feel cold and wretched.
I feel.
And, in feeling, I want nothing more than to go back to that balmy water so I can sleep again within its peaceful and warm embrace. I want to be cocooned by those numbing waters.
No, Eilish, a woman’s voice commands within my head, behind the jarring ache between my ears, behind the trilling scream I can’t seem to force through my lips.
It will get better. Brace yourself and be strong.
A tremor seizes me and ripples through my body, causing my lower teeth to slam against the upper ones as I begin to shake uncontrollably. I feel myself bite down hard on my tongue and the taste of blood is thick in my mouth and throat.
“She’s having a seizure!” a deep voice says, fear and concern penetrating the words.
“I never said this would be pleasant,” another voice responds, not quite as deep but just as masculine.
I open my mouth to scream as another tremor grips me, but find I’m unable to utter even the smallest of squeaks. Instead, my back arches as my fingers grip onto something satiny beneath me. I squeeze until the tips of my nails bite into my palms. Anguish travels through me, shaking my entire being, rattling inside my head like a stray bullet. When the shaking stops, all that’s left moving is my heart, which is beating so hard it feels like it could burst.
You are almost through the worst of it, Eilish, the voice inside my head insists.
“Please,” I beg, barely recognizing my own voice. The pain is clearly evident in the word that barely makes it across my tongue.
“She’s bleeding,” the deep voice announces. “Her mouth.”
“She’ll be fine,” the second voice declares. It’s hurried and irritated, but there’s fear beneath the words.
I feel the salty sting of tears as they bleed from the corners of my eyes. Eyes I still haven’t found the strength to open. Not when the pain between them threatens to rip my brain apart.
Then, as though it never was, the pain is gone. Completely. The tremors stop. I can feel nothing. The only reminder of the horrible agony I’ve just endured is the taste of blood.
As the seconds tick by, the coldness alleviates. My body begins to warm, as if I’m sitting in front of a blazing fire.
The impurity has been cleansed, the voice tells me. You are free, Eilish.
In the wake of the tremors and the torment is an emptiness that is both reward and suffering. Exhaustion claims every cell of my being, but the good news is that I can breathe again. I feel my chest rise as I inhale a deep breath.
***
DRAGAN
“Long, slow, deep breaths,” Cambion instructs the angel, who lies on his bed just as still as she was moments before. If not for the gentle rise and fall of her chest, I might wonder if his enchantment just killed her.
“Continue to breathe in and breathe out,” he says, watching her. I immediately reach over him and pull the sheet back up to her chin to protect her nudity. He glares at me over his shoulder before returning his attention to the angel.
Fuck him. I don’t care if he’s pissed or not. This dandy isn’t the king he was one hundred years ago. He’s a shadow of the man he once was and I have no respect for him.
“Everything is going to be fine now,” he finishes, his tone soothing.
“Is it done?” I ask.
“Yes.” He begins collecting his crystals but pauses when he reaches her breasts. “Would you prefer to retrieve them for me?” he asks.
“Yes,” I respond. “Turn your back.”
“For fuck’s sake, Dragan,” he starts, shaking his head.
“Turn your fucking back!”
Cambion does as I insist, and I retrieve the additional crystals from the girl’s unresponsive body. I hand them to him.
“Then, she is well now?” I ask him as I face the sleeping beauty. She doesn’t exactly look well. She’s just as pale as she was before, and a thin sheen of sweat has broken out across her forehead.
“I should have been able to clear most of the Atacomite .”
“Most?”
“To dissolve all of it would take days,” Cambion responds with little interest. “Her body will be able to handle the remainder on its own. She’ll be weak and will require rest for the next few days, at least.”
“Then you weren’t able to heal her fully?”
“I did what I could, given the short amount of time, asshole.” Then he turns to face the sprite. “Sprite, you may feel more tired than usual, as well. The enchantment borrowed your life energy, as well as my own.”
“Do that mean I’m gonna die sooner than I would have?”
“No,” Cambion assures him. “It means you’ll require more food and rest.”
“Oh.”
Glancing down at the still girl, I realize this is another opportunity to attempt to investigate the angel’s wings. My magic failed, yes, but maybe Cambion’s won’t. “Try to produce her wings,” I order him.
“Fuck off.”
I inhale deeply and try to control the rage that simmering just beneath the surface. “ Will you try to produce her wings… please?”
“I thought you had to leave?” Cambion responds and the way he asks the question implies that he wants us to go.
“We can’t remain much longer, liege,” Thoradin confirms, even as he still faces the wall.
“How much longer do we have?” I ask him.
“Eight minutes.”
“We have time,” I decide and face Cambion resolutely.
He sighs in frustration but then turns back to the angel. He holds his hands out above her again and closes his eyes. Then, he begins chanting in the old language of Elvish , delivering his words in a commanding tone. There is a brief interlude of silence before he repeats them in a louder voice. Then he falls silent again.
After another few seconds, he drops his hands and opens his eyes. He turns to face me and shakes his head.
“It looks as though you’ve been duped, old chap,” he informs me with a smug, self-satisfied smirk. I know Cambion well enough to know he’d enjoy nothing more than for the fucking sprite to have pulled one over on me.
“I ain’t duped no one!” the sprite yells. “Maybe her wings ain’t showin’ up ‘cause she so exhausted from all your magic!”
“He has a point,” I admit.
“If you choose to believe him, then I suppose he does have a point,” Cambion replies. Clearly, he doesn’t.
And I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve been a fool for trusting the sprite in the first place.
***
EILISH
Open your eyes, Eilish.
As if the words are a command, my eyes blink open of their own accord and everything is blurry for a few seconds. A shape directly in front of me begins to delineate and, as my eyes beg my exhausted brain to make sense of the image, I realize it’s a man.
He’s staring back at me with the same curiosity in his expression that I imagine must also be in mine. I don’t know him. At least, I don’t think I do, but there’s a void of blackness where my memories used to be.
As I study the man sitting beside me, I notice the brightness that surrounds him, almost as though his bronze skin glows. It’s only then that I realize how stunningly beautiful he is.
He’s a creature of the light, Eilish, the voice inside my head tells me. You can trust him. You must trust him.
The beautiful creature parts his full lips and smiles warmly as he continues to stare at me. He appears to be in his early thirties, maybe. His eyes are the color of honey and they seem infinite in their depths. His dark blond hair is short, yet it curls around his pointed ears.
Pointed ears…
He’s fae. And the fae are friends to angels. Yes, I can trust him.
How I know any of this, I can’t say.
“We must leave,” the deep voice sounds from behind the man. I look over the fae’s head to see another man lurking behind him. He stands almost as tall as the ceiling and the reach of his shoulders is so broad, I imagine two of me could fit between them. Where the fae healer was surrounded by light, this creature is encircled by shadow. It weaves in and around him, coloring him with a darkness I find hauntingly alluring. He appears as though he’s older than the fae man but not by much.
I’ve seen him before. How, I can’t say, but his face brings me a sense of calm familiarity. He’s powerful, battle-worn and strength personified, but there’s a gentleness within him that speaks to me. I know he won’t hurt me.
He studies me in the same way the fae man did before him. With open admiration and… curiosity.
“Yes, you must take her and leave, before Variant finds you here,” the fae man instructs and scowls as he pulls his gaze away from me and, instead, focuses on something in the distance. He makes no move to stand.
You cannot allow him to leave you. You need both of them , the female voice booms in my head.
“Is she well enough that I can bring her with me?” the shadow man asks.
“The answer to that question is beside the point—you have no other alternative. She can’t stay here,” the fae man responds, refusing to look at me. I don’t understand why I can’t remain with him. He’s a friend, a comrade. And clearly, he just brought me back from the precipice of wherever I was.
He cannot leave you, Eilish. You need him.
As I study the fae man who refuses to so much as glance at me, a determination sets into me that I can’t deny. Whoever put those words into my head must also be in control of my body because before I know what I’m doing, I reach out and wrap my fingers around his wrist.
He looks at me immediately, his eyebrows arching in surprise. When our eyes connect, everything goes black for a split second. Then, I see images flashing through my mind. Images that make little sense to me:
This honey-eyed man looks down at me, watching me. I’m lying on a bed and he’s above me, his hands on either side of my head. His hair is disheveled and he’s out of breath. A thin sheen of sweat coats his entire body, causing that bronze skin to glitter. I can feel the heat of his body. I watch as his muscles tense and release as he moves above me.
Within me.
Yes, he’s buried deep inside me. His eyes never leave mine as he thrusts himself into me repeatedly. Each drive deeper than the last. I hear the sound of my own moan, which causes a smile to seize his mouth and he pushes into me even harder.
“My King,” I say to him and I can feel my smile.
His is beaming. “My beautiful Queen.”
“Enough!”
His voice interrupts the vision and I blink a few times once I’m transported back to the room with the fae man and the shadow man behind him. It’s then that I realize there’s a sprite circling above my head, and another man of shadow in the corner of the room.
The fae man stares down at me with a furrowed brow and I feel coldness beneath my fingers, whereas moments before they were wrapped around his wrist. He must have pulled away from me.
Touch him again, Eilish, the voice demands. You must know who he is.
I don’t give him a warning before I grab his hand, and even though I’m beyond weak, my grip is firm. Strangely, he doesn’t try to release himself. Instead, he eyes me with a reticent curiosity as though he wants to understand who and what I am but, at the same time, he doesn’t.
This time, the images hit me immediately.
The clashing of blades. The sounds of fists meeting flesh. The cries of the wounded. The smell of something burning.
A battle.
The fae man is dressed in battle armor, but his armor is distinguished from that of the others by the royal crest of the Seelie Court. He is the King of the Seelie, and he leads his legion of Seelie Fae soldiers as they clamor against another. A legion of their own kind—the fae. Only instead of the lightness of the Seelie Court, this enemy bears the darkness of the Unseelie Court. Eternal rivals, yes, but never have they fought on opposite sides. Not like this.
Standing beside the Seelie King is the man of shadow. He, too, is a king. The King of Shadows controls his own legion of winged creatures, all of whom are bathed in darkness. They are gargoyles, protectors of stone. Creatures of the night. Yet these shadow warriors fight alongside the Seelie? Against the Unseelie, against the fae king’s own kind?
I don’t understand.
The legion of the Unseelie Fae are led by their own king—he is dark where the King of the Seelie is fair, but just as devastatingly handsome. The Unseelie King’s anger penetrates out of him in unending ire. He’s joined by still more creatures, and they’re surrounded by a light brighter than even that of the Seelie.
I feel my stomach fall as I realize the race of the Unseelie King’s accomplices. Angels.
Look closely at the angels, Eilish. The woman’s voice inside my head says.
I do as I’m told and further suffer another shocking blow. The angels are male. But how can that be? There are no more male angels left…
Except for one.
The King of the Angels , Variant, the woman’s voice corrects me.
I gasp and break the illusion as I drop the beautiful man’s hand. He pulls away from me at the same time, even going to so far as to stand up to put more distance between us. I don’t know if he’s witnessed the same vision I have, but he looks stunned.
“You’re the Seelie King,” I whisper, and the man’s eyes widen only momentarily.
“Thank the fuckin’ stars she got her goddamned wits back!” the sprite nearly sings as it bobs up and down in the air. “I thought that Atacomite shit had eaten up her whole damn brain an’ she was gonna be as smart as a fuckin’ zombie.”
I ignore the annoying creature.
“He was the Seelie King ,” the King of Shadows clarifies and I look at him, suddenly realizing he epitomizes the word “king”—from his impossibly large presence to the way he holds himself, the arrogance of his countenance.
“You’re the King of Shadow,” I finish.
His eyebrows are drawn and there’s surprise on his face, but he’s clearly pleased I know this. He’s pleased to be recognized as the king he is. A smirk appears on his lips and it’s all I can do to think of anything other than tasting them.
“What’s your name?” he asks. No—demands.
“Eilish,” I answer, suddenly overcome by an exhaustion that seems to claim my entire being. I close my eyes as I listen to the rasp of my breath, inhaling deeply.
“Don’t overstress her, she can’t take it,” the Seelie King warns.
I open my eyes to look at him but he looks beyond me, to the open window as a cool breeze enters the room, assaulting each of us and blowing his hair around his ears. I want to tell him how beautiful he is, but I hold back. The timing is wrong.
“My liege,” the shadow man from behind the Shadow King interrupts. “We must return to our own realm before we’re forced to become stone.”
“Yes,” the Shadow King agrees, and worry etches across his face.
“Take her and go,” the Seelie King says, motioning to me. Cold and indifferent, he still won’t return my gaze. I imagine he wasn’t always this way and I wonder what must have happened to change him.
“No,” I insist, and I feel everyone’s attention on me. I don’t know why, but there’s an absolute understanding within me that I can’t be separated from him or the King of Shadow. I need this Seelie King as much as I need the shadow warrior behind him. “You… saw the… vision,” I say, narrowing my eyes on him.
“What’s she talking about?” the King of Shadow demands. He sounds perturbed.
“I don’t know,” the Seelie King lies.
“Yes. You do,” I insist.
I know he saw it, I felt him pull away from me in shock and outrage at what the vision revealed. Like he didn’t want it to be real. I was equally shocked to see visions of a battle, but even more so when I saw the two of us in the midst of a sexual tryst. Shocked, yes, but I wasn’t about to deny any of it was true. Of course, I don’t have my memory, so I couldn’t say if what I saw had already happened and I just couldn’t remember it. Or maybe it was portending the future? A vision, sent by the woman’s voice that keeps sounding in my head? Whatever it was, I believe it.
“What vision? What the bloody hell is she talking about, Cambion?” the Shadow King asks, spearing his glance between the Seelie King and me.
I’m too tired to respond.
“She’s been out of her mind for who knows how long,” the Seelie King starts, taking another step as if he wants to be far away from me.
“No,” I interrupt, then need to take another deep breath. I’m pushing myself too hard.
“Shhh,” the Shadow King says to me, a kind expression on his stern face. Then he growls as he grips the Seelie King’s arm and holds him firmly. “What the bloody fuck is she talking about?”
“She’s just come out of a fucking Atacomite stupor and whatever she’s talking about might as well be the ravings of a lunatic…”
“I’m not a… lunatic,” I argue.
“Cambion, what did you see when she touched you?” the Shadow King demands again.
The Seelie King finally meets his gaze and both of them look like they’re within seconds of attacking each other. “If you’d really like to know, you fucking barbarian, I saw her beneath me while I fucked her and she begged me for more.”
While his description exaggerates the truth somewhat, it has the desired effect. The Shadow King’s expression drops and his eyes darken as his hands ball into fists. He swallows hard.
“Would you like to know more?” the Seelie King continues, baiting the larger man. “Would you like to know how tight and wet she was?”
“Shut the fuck up,” the Shadow King snarls.
“Or how fucking good she felt each time I plunged into her?”
“Shut your fucking mouth.”
“He must… come with… us,” I tell them, as I move my gaze from the Seelie King to the shadow warrior who holds him hostage. The King of Shadow will help me. I’m not sure how I know this, but I do all the same.
Eilish, your enemies have awareness, the woman’s voice says inside my head, and it sounds urgent. They are hunting you again. You cannot tarry any longer. You must move. Now.
“We have no… more time,” I explain, and I have to close my eyes to catch my breath. The exhaustion is growing, claiming me. “They’re coming.”
The Shadow King nods as if he understands my convoluted words, as if he understands who “they” are. Then, he turns his steely gray gaze to the King of the Seelie and his eyes narrow.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he says.
Before the Seelie King can defend himself, shadows begin to spin around him, enveloping him in a cocoon of darkness. Seconds later, the darkness disintegrates and the Seelie King collapses on the ground.