Chapter 25
Daisy
Darkness moved all around them, coalescing into shapes and figures. Creatures grew from the ground, the same sort Tarian had pushed on her outside of the charity auction hotel. Even then, he’d been preparing her for something like this.
Faelynn sliced her palm as the creatures filled the hallway.
Blood welled up, and she ran it over her blade.
It started to glitter gold in the low light, her magic coating the sharp edge.
Gorlan did the same, the three of them forming a protective circle around Daisy, knees bent, postures battle-ready.
Tarian’s glowing weapon had turned into his favorite, the staff with a blade on either end.
Daisy rose, pulling out her own blade. Her ankle hurt, and her stomach pinched, but she was good enough. She wasn’t the type to stay idle. If Tarian had met Lexi, they could’ve bitched about that fact for hours.
The creatures jostled each other as they closed the distance between themselves and Daisy’s crew.
No, Daisy specifically. All “eyes,” hollowed-out holes filled with flickering fire, were on her. The soulless orbs gave her a chill to look into.
At once, they started running, slowly at first, then faster.
Claws elongated into disproportionate lengths on the ends of spindly arms. They clacked against the ground on tripod-style legs.
The first one reached Tarian. He dodged a swipe gracefully, stepped, and plunged his staff through the chest, then pivoted, yanked his blade, and swung for the next.
His movements were effortless and beautiful, someone who’d taken great pains to learn and master the forms of fighting.
Gorlan was next, followed quickly by Faelynn, both of them also showing a mastery of their blades.
Gorlan hacked off a limb as Faelynn twirled and sliced her blade across a creature’s neck.
She stepped as she pulled free and plunged the blade into another.
Gorlan did the same, hacking and slicing and stabbing.
Their skill was far beyond that of the nightmare creatures advancing, but their number was too few.
Way too few. They’d be overrun in no time.
Normally, Daisy would’ve stepped into the space between Faelynn and Gorlan, hiding her involvement from the person—fae—who had told her to stay out of the fight, but she didn’t know them.
She hadn’t fought with them. She did know Tarian, and so she filled the space between him and Faelynn. He’d just have to get over it.
She sliced through a reaching arm, hacking it at the elbow before sticking her dagger into the creature’s chest. The magical blade cut right through.
Unlike the first time she’d battled such creatures, these didn’t scream.
Daisy and crew would be treated to a lovely, quiet fight. That wasn’t so bad. Less annoyance.
“She’s even entertaining when she’s fighting,” Gorlan called over the wet sounds of blades finding purchase.
“You fuckers need to get out more,” Daisy said, and Gorlan snickered. She plunged with her knife. Searing pain raced across her stomach. It felt like she’d torn something.
She ignored it. The pain wasn’t bad enough to suggest she’d done something terminal.
She jerked the blade out and went on to the next, her mind settling into a comfortable haze. Her muscle memory took over, hindered by her wounds but not thrown off track. Her middle tingled as Tarian reached for magic.
Magic.
What the fuck was she doing? Besides not trying to use magic. She had some now but was acting like she didn’t. Idiot.
She cut and slashed, stepped and parried. Tarian moved around her like they were dancing, so much more interesting than on a ballroom floor.
That’s because you’ve never danced with me on a ballroom floor, he murmured, his voice strained.
That was true, she supposed.
The teachings from that contraption filtered through her mind. She sighted in on one of the creatures, then switched to another when Tarian killed the first. She tried to deaden its magic…only to have it swipe at her, raking its claws across her arm.
She gritted her teeth and stabbed it through, focusing on one farther back. The press of creatures pushed her crew in tighter, everyone battling with everything they had. Tarian slashed one through with magic, another with his staff. Faelynn did the same. Gorlan whirled like a machine.
Daisy couldn’t feel the creatures. It wasn’t like working with that magical device—real life felt totally different.
You’ve practiced in real life, Faelynn said through a spark of pain.
She shoved the feeling away like Daisy might’ve.
This fae might not say a whole lot, but she was just as tough as all the others.
You’ve nulled me, remember? Lennox, Gorlan—you’ve nulled us.
Even Tarian. It isn’t different. You’re just not targeting the source.
Follow the magic, Tarian said, twisting at the last moment.
Claws barely missed his arm. Feel the thread of the magic and follow it.
You don’t need sight for this. You need to feel the threads of Faerie.
They’re everywhere—in everything. Someone conjured these creatures and gave them life. That is what you need to null—the root.
The contraptions never said anything about threads and roots and conjuring. What sort of half-assed training did they have in this place?
She worked harder, limping, breathing heavily.
Her stomach was on fire, pulsing in pain.
Her legs throbbed, one barely holding her up.
Still she pushed, fighting through the creatures.
They weren’t hard to kill, given the magical knife parted their flesh like silk, but there were just so damn many of them.
They kept coming, on and on, no break in the onslaught.
The root. Feel the root.
No, wait—the threads. Feel the threads…
Images flickered through Daisy’s mind, from Tarian and then from Gorlan, pictures of the magic weaving within itself. Of it shimmering and dancing and beautiful. She didn’t see any of that through her dull, sad-sack human vision.
Emotions rolled through her now, Faelynn feeding her a different perspective. She felt the threads around her, the magic washing against her, the writhing forms of the creatures.
Okay, that made more sense.
We all connect with Faerie differently, Faelynn said, her mind like a flowing river within a vibrant green field. She was like a meditation session just by opening her mind. Find the way you connect, and you will find the magic.
Yelling and battle calls erupted over the din of their efforts. Weapons swung through the air, and creatures started to drop at the outer periphery. The Fallen had arrived.
We’ll be good, Tarian told her. Figure out your magic.
She limped back into their protective circle, tight now and pressed from all sides. She stood, most of her weight on her better foot, dagger in hand, and closed her eyes. They’d tell her if she was in danger.
She didn’t immediately feel for the magic. No, she remembered when Lexi was trying to learn hers. It was a magic that lent best to one’s ability to feel it. They’d tried to teach Lexi how, but she’d been a visual learner. They’d had to change their style of teaching.
Those early lessons, though, had stuck in Daisy’s head.
She’d watched from the sides, curious and wary, concerned for her caregiver and ready to help with remembering the tough stuff if Lexi needed it.
Lexi hadn’t, but now Daisy called up what had been said then and after, when Lexi could describe different aspects of spirit.
Spirit made up the framework of the human world. It was the support system for souls, both in the world with the living and beyond, in the afterlife. It existed everywhere and outlined everything. A body came and went, but a soul was forever, or so Lexi believed.
This magic was in everything and existed everywhere, right? Take it away, and a fae died. Mess with it, and a fae panicked and went nuts, doing everything they could to protect that part of themself. Spirit could do that to people.
The similarities ended there, but that might be enough.
She pored over the teachings, years old but still seeming so fresh. She didn’t tend to lose sight of extremely dangerous magic. She had a lot of notes on Dylan and Thane, too. Even Jerry. They’d never want to turn into her bad guys.
Eyes closed, feeling the soothing river in Faelynn’s mind still streaming through hers, Daisy clued in.
She felt around. She touched Tarian, with whom she was comfortable, and Gorlan, whom she knew.
Then she branched out, finding the Fallen cutting their way closer, almost to them now.
Each of them registered. Niall added to Faelynn’s lovely scene, wildflowers popping up in brilliant colors and the breeze ruffling her hair.
So did two more, adding details that felt like a weave of magic.
Between them all, rotting magic flowed. In and around, pulsing one moment and dying away the next, most flowing back into the area surrounding it.
Some of it headed back to its maker, though.
Feeling like she was floating, and not afraid of it because of all the times Lexi had described to Kieran or Bria how she moved through spirit, she followed.
She drifted, feeling the push and pull of magic, the playful dance, the nightmarish, dangerous pull.
It weaved within each other in some places, fought in others, separated and came together.
It was a perfectly composed mess, like Eldric’s library.
Like Eldric’s library. Huh. He existed in his information gathering like a fae existed in Faerie.