Chapter 53 A Father’s Love
A Father’s Love
Iawoke feeling empty as I peeled myself off the cold, hard obsidian ground.
“Hey, Spark,” Artton said from the side as I leaned back against the wall between the two summer commanders who’d kept vigil.
“Endymion?” I asked, hating that it was the first word out of my mouth, and hating more how vulnerable I’d been. There was something about that damn male that let him slip past my defenses.
“He left shortly after you fell asleep to grab the antidote and hopefully come up with a plan to get us out of here.” He leaned in a little closer. “How are you feeling?”
I tilted my head back against the wall and sighed. “Like I want to be home.”
“Home, hum?” he teased, bumping his shoulder gently against mine.
“Yeah,” I said, appreciating the levity, “it would be wasteful to let an entire residence go unused.” I looked at him then, smirking.
“Oh no,” he said, dead serious, hand on chest, “we couldn’t have that.”
Sidrick chuckled to my right, and I shifted my focus to him. “And you? How are you feeling?”
He paused for a moment, as if deciding how to answer. “Physically, fine. Though, I feel uncomfortably naked without my powers,” he admitted.
“And emotionally?” I said tentatively.
“Emotionally…” He sighed, drawing his mocha eyes to mine.
Of everyone, I knew Sidrick the least, but the earnestness in his gaze made me realize just how much I’d gotten to know him through Kaelun.
“Emotionally,” he repeated, now looking into my soul, “I’d go the rest of my life feeling naked if it meant we all got home safe. ”
I swallowed. There was something raw in those words. Desperate, even. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not”—he shook his head—"but Kaelun being here is my fault. My family will never forgive me if something happens to him."
I went to respond, but Artton beat me to it. Leaning forward to look past me toward his friend and commanding partner, he said, “Don’t do that to yourself. It’s not true, and you know it.”
“Isn’t it?” Sidrick challenged, raising a brow.
“We both know he has worshiped the ground I walk on since birth—the ground all of us walk on.” He gestured, and I knew he’d included Caius and me in that statement.
“If it weren’t for my position and friendship with you and Caius…
” The sentence died on his tongue as he hung his head and dragged his hands through his hair, clutching hard; and I ached for the guilt festering in his heart.
I leaned back allowing Artton to reach over me and wrap a firm hand around the deeply tanned forearm of his friend. Fingers still threaded through his dirty blond hair, Sidrick looked up at his closest friend with so much innocence that it could’ve been Kaelun staring back at us.
“Don’t let guilt rewrite history, brother,” Artton said with a gentleness I’d only heard from him when I’d finally come out of the shared vision; and it wasn’t until that moment that I realized how much of an empath this male was—a trait that afflicted us both.
“You know as well as anyone, that regardless of your position, or our ties, he would’ve ended up here.
Kaelun was the youngest fae to manifest an unara and the only one to possess two.
Even if they weren’t both extremely powerful in their own right, he’d never escape serving in our political climate—and you know that.
If anything, he received the best training possible because of you.
And if you don’t think Caius calling Kaelun into service early wasn’t the hardest decision of his life, you’re dead wrong. ”
“The second hardest decision, you mean,” Sidrick countered, referring to how Caius had earned his title.
“No,” Artton said firmly, “the love he holds for your brother is deeper than it ever was for his father. I promise you, I did not mince my words. I know it’s hard.
And hells, I’m a fucken hypocrite right now saying all of this because I blame myself for all of you being in this situation.
Ultimately, it was my call to move forward, and it was a bad one. ”
Sidrick finally unthreaded his fingers from his hair and rested a hand on Artton’s, squeezing it back with emotion dancing in his mahogany eyes. “You didn’t make any of us cross over.”
“And you didn’t make Kaelun join up.”
I sat there looking between them in awe.
These fae weren’t only wielders of magic, they’d been witness to more history than I could possibly imagine—yet, they were more human than Thaddeus.
I hated that it took seeing their pain to recognize how small the difference is between human and fae.
At the end of the day, they just wanted to be loved—and if that’s not the most human condition of all, then I didn’t know what is.
“Maybe,” I said, voice thick as I rested a hand atop theirs, “we stop looking in the mirror and start shifting fault to the reason we were put in this impossible situation in the first place. I’ve blamed myself for my parents’ fate and the twins’ capture, but I am not the one responsible for either of those things.
Thaddeus is, and he alone. At what point do we stop owning their atrocities as our own?
We can be angry, grieved, hurt, scared even…
but guilty? I don’t want to do it anymore.
I’m not sure I’ll ever learn how to stop, but I think we all owe it to ourselves to try. ”
“Damn, Spark,” Artton said, withdrawing his hand so he could get a proper look at me, “here I thought your speeches were only to shred the souls of your enemies.”
I pushed him, rolling my eyes. “I don’t make speeches,” I protested.
Sidrick laughed. “Actually, you do.”
“Traitor,” I said, shooting him a look.
“In my defense, it’s fact-based, not opinion.”
I crossed my arms. “Oh?”
“What was the first one you witnessed?” Sidrick asked his partner in crime, and I knew the second Artton’s damn dimple appeared that this had become a team sport.
Tapping his chin in mock thought, Artton said, “I think it was the solstice dinner when she dressed down Wymond.”
I groaned, dragging my hands down my face.
Sidrick shook his head “No, I think it was after Myron healed her from her encounter with Amos.”
“Ah!” Artton snapped his fingers. “You’re right. It’s been over five hundred years, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a few scrapes and bruises get in the way of this momentous occasion,” he recited in a ridiculous pitchy voice that was supposed to be me.
“Gods,” I groaned. “I don’t sound like that.”
They both looked at me incredulously before egging each other on.
“Fetus for a fetus,” Sidrick supplied.
“When she kicked us out of morning breakfast.”
“Oh, when…”
They continued on like this, clearly no longer needing me to be an active participant to have their fun.
Shaking my head with a smile, I stood to grab some water as they battled for the next best example.
I took a long, deep pull from the waterskin, then washed myself, the cool water more than welcome against my face and neck.
When I was done, Sidrick reached out an arm, indicating he wanted some water.
Hand on hip, I pulled the waterskin closer to me even though I was already well out of reach.
“Oh, you think so, do you?” I said, eliciting a chuckle from both of them.
“I don’t know, Sidrick. I expect this kind of behavior from his one”—I nodded in Artton’s direction—"but you…
" I clicked my tongue. “I thought better of you.”
Smiling, he shifted into a kneeling position with a knee on the ground and a hand over his heart. “Forgive me, Lady Nyleeria, our Spark, our—”
“Gods, you’re just as ridiculous as him,” I said, cutting him off, but I couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on my face as I walked up to him.
He continued to hold his position, looking up at me with a playful glint I’d never seen from him.
Holding out my hand, Sidrick reached for the proffered waterskin, and I pulled it back.
He had to hold back his smile, trying to stay serious.
“Promise you won’t besmirch my good name again? ” I said, brow raised.
“Oh, I vow on my fami—”
“Eeeek!” I yelped as Artton lunged, stealing the waterskin from me.
His hearty laugh filled the room, and I couldn’t help but join. “Not fair,” I pouted.
“You know what they say when you play with fire, don’t you?” he said with a raised brow before taking a swig and handing the skin to Sidrick, who now stood.
Knowing full well what the saying was, I crossed my arms and said, “No, what do they sa—”
The ground shook with a tremor that forced to abandon my words, throwing my hands out to balance. Artton was there in a flash, allowing me to grip him for support.
“What was that?” Sidrick asked.
“Nothing good,” Artton said, and as if his words had conjured it, the ground shook again, only this time it was hard enough that flakes of obsidian rocked crumbled from the ceiling, forcing us to cover ourselves.
Artton pulled me into him, shielding our bodies from the next few waves as the ceiling continued to crack apart.
After long moments of calm, we unfurled, breaths heavy as we waited for another one, only it didn’t come. Releasing me from his grasp, Artton coughed from the dust that hadn’t quite settled yet. “You okay?” he asked Sidrick, who nodded in turn.
It was dark now, the firelight along the walls and corridors now out, and my eyes worked double time to adjust to the pitch black.
Fae night vision was good, but not so good that it could see with no light source.
Knowing I couldn’t conjure fire, I snapped my fingers, and tiny white sparks came to life.
Adjusting, I looked the others over. We were covered in dust, but fine. We walked up to and looked down the corridor. “Hello?” I called out, my voice echoing down the long, wide tunnel.
“Endymion said he’d keep the guards on the other side of the tunnel doors from now on so that Thaddeus couldn’t approach in private,” Sidrick said.
“That, and it allow us to speak freely,” Artton added.
“It’s a lot longer than I thought,” I said, allowing my magic to cascade along the path.
“Nyleeria,” Sidrick said, “if you allow your power to touch one of the light orbs, it might be enough to relight them.”
Following where he pointed, I did as he suggested. The moment my magic touched the orb closest to us, the entire corridor lit up again, and I called my powers back. “Well, that’s neat.”
Ignoring how cool I thought my magic trick was, Artton said, “Any thoughts on how to get out of here? I have a feeling whatever that was, we want to be as far away from it as possible.”
I bent over to assess the gate’s locking mechanism. “I didn’t see Thaddeus open it, but I think he used spellcraft.”
I glanced over my shoulder to Artton who nodded.
“I think,” I said, laying a hand on the solid section that I could only guess was the lock, as there was no key, “I might be able to open it.”
Sidrick stepped closer and peered “You can do that?”
I shrugged. “I mean, I haven’t used it since I was training with him and I’m not good at it, but I have used it before.”
“And the cost?” Artton’s stern voice demanded. “What would the cost be to you now that you’re fae, Spark? We all know what happened when you conjured wind as a human, and we can’t afford for that happening again.”
I cringed, turning to face him. “I… I don’t know,” I admitted. “But do you have a better plan?”
“I think…”
I blinked at him. “What?” I asked, his words hard to hear.
His mouth moved, but nothing came out. The edges of my vision blurred, and the harder I tried to concentrate on him the worse it got.
I swayed, grasping for the bars as I fell, and missed.
Firm hands caught me before I hit the ground.
I floated—both there and not—as the world spun. I looked past whomever held me, and as if I saw a different reality a menacing shadow loomed. Angry and hurt wafted off it as it called for death. No. Power first. Death after. Revenge. Vengeance. Agony. So much agony.
I gasped as my lungs took in air like I’d drown, and the room came into focus. “That’s it, Little Star, follow my voice.”
As quickly as the world had disappeared, the world snapped into focus. “Endymion!” I cried, clutching at his leathers.
“We have to go,” he said.
“What happened?” Sidrick asked, as they helped me up—though I wish they would’ve let me stay.
“Antidotes first,” Endymion said, reaching for the neck. “It’s going to pinch and then sting, okay?”
Still a little dazed, I nodded. I cried out from searing pain that followed in the antidote’s wake like acid burning through my veins.
“I know,” he soothed. “Just a few more seconds.”
He was right. Within heartbeats, it was gone.
I didn’t watch as the others hissed in displeasure twice, apparently needing a double dose because they’d both been poisoned in battle, not an intentional injection like I’d received.
“Now are you going to tell us what the fuck happened?” Artton said with a bit more bite than needed.
Endymion was calm, but his eyes darting to the door betrayed him.
“Wymond’s bairn,” he finally said, voice thick. “He… he died.”
The room went silent.
“Lanacia?” Sidrick asked.
Endymion’s deep-blue eyes gave it away before he spoke. “Dead.”
“Fuck,” Artton muttered, and I didn’t miss how his hand moved to where he usually hid a dagger, only to come up empty.
And just like that, I knew exactly what had happened to me before Endymion showed up—how the shadow wanted vengeance. “Wymond,” I said, almost choking on his name, “he blames me for their deaths.”
Endymion’s face was unreadable as he looked down at me. “Yes. And he’s coming for you.”