Chapter 25 #2
Suddenly, everything made sense. It crystalized in her mind, like the ever-changing landscape the Fallen were showing her mentally.
The wildflowers that wilted, died, and popped up again in the spring.
The water moving through and away, always replaced with something similar but not the same.
And maybe it was because she had Lexi’s Demigod blood gift, could feel souls, and had a magical nudge toward spirit magic, but in the middle of all that chaos…
she found balance. The light and the dark, the living and the dead. Complex but oh-so simple. Natural.
She found the root like it had a big arrow pointing at it.
A mass of gross, twisted magic surged and sparked and melted the surrounding air, wrong in every way.
She couldn’t tell if it was a fae or a beast, an individual or eight.
She applied the chalice magic like a candle snuffer cutting out the oxygen to a flame.
The rot around them spun and twisted but eventually withered away, evaporating back into the framework whence it came.
Another magic waited, though. Around the corner, skulking in the shadows.
A vile magic from something that didn’t register as fae.
Not anymore. She really got now why they referred to magic gone wrong as twisted…
It was wrong for this place. It was a sore on the healthy body that was Faerie.
She didn’t snuff that one. It would be wrong to allow that creature to continue plaguing this realm.
No, she stole from it. Yanked its magic away like a toddler stealing her brother’s last piece of candy.
She took it, and she chewed it up and swallowed it before the original holder could get it back.
They heard a cry of abject terror and then rage, followed by a strange growling.
Footsteps in the distance were cut short, and something heavy hit the ground and sounded like it tumbled.
One of the Fallen took off in that direction, followed by a couple more.
She didn’t have to see it to know; she could feel it.
She could feel them, their magic weaving within the flow of Faerie. It was…incredible. Beautiful.
All lay still and quiet around her except for heavy breathing, everyone trying to catch their breath. She gradually opened her eyes, wanting to stay in that magical headspace a while longer but knowing this was not the place, now was not the time, and her body was crying for more healing and a bed.
Everyone was facing her, swords down, staring. Their expressions were hard but blank, giving nothing away.
She lifted her eyebrows as she put her knife away. “What?”
Tarian
Tarian stared at Daisy for much too long, dumbfounded, playing everything that had happened in his head again.
Strangely, none of his Fallen reacted, either.
Everyone stared at the human who had just rooted out and extinguished Faerie magic as though born in this place. As though born to this magic.
Are you sure she’s human? Gorlan asked, his voice holding awe. She figured that out all on her own. She accomplished it like she’s been doing it all her life.
A surge of pride gushed through Tarian, so unexpected that he staggered.
Yes, she was human. Yes, she was new to magic.
To all of this. Yes, she was a genius who was good in a pinch and a valuable member of this team.
She’d always shown she could be, and now she’d proven she would be.
She’d help them win. If anyone could—if any human in all the realms could see them to the finish—it was this precious, beautiful little creature.
“Seriously, what?” Daisy cocked her hip in that way that said everyone was an idiot.
He was too shocked, too numb, too…full of pride, maybe, to laugh or smile.
Instead, he put away his sword before he scooped her up into his arms and held her tightly to his chest. His heart throbbed from the closeness.
His body tightened with need. To feel her more thoroughly against him.
He’d never wanted anyone so badly in all his life, and with each passing day, instead of that feeling waning, it grew stronger. More solid. Un-fucking-breakable.
“Nothing,” he said.
How could you put all that into words? Any of this into words? She’d figured out a complex magical lesson…with a couple of shallow hints from his crew. That was…
He started to laugh.
Eldric was correct. She would be fit for the scribes. Mentally, anyway. She wouldn’t open the gates for a rush of more humans to follow, though. There weren’t many like her. She was proving to be truly exceptional.
As usual, she took his silence for some kind of answer. Her brain kept spinning in that dizzying way it did.
His body is tense, she observed. Always observing. His jacket is cut and slashed in a dozen places. Blood is welling up in a few of those places, but all his limbs are still attached. His wounds aren’t what is troubling him.
“But seriously, what?” she demanded again. “I did it, right? I did the job. I’m not great at it, or fast, but I did it. That’s something. Right?”
He could feel the insecurity in her mind.
Had to clench his jaw to stop from gushing all over her.
Even now there might be eyes on them. He was already being too obvious in his partiality.
Showing his intense and deepening feelings would surely result in the royals taking her and tormenting her in front of him.
He couldn’t bear that. He wouldn’t live through it, because he’d kill as many of the palace residents as he possibly could before they brought him down.
If they harmed her, he’d lay waste to this place.
He’d sacrifice his duty to claim vengeance on her behalf. No hesitation. No remorse.
“Yes.” He turned a corner, his jaw still tight. “That is something.”
She studied his face, her arms wrapped around his neck. His knees nearly buckled at the soft look in her eyes, speaking directly to the warmth radiating in his middle.
The soft look currently warring with her annoyance, at any rate. He felt like laughing. Definitely scribe material. Above all, she wanted answers. Well…him and answers. Equally so. He wanted to comply, but not yet. Not until they were in the safety of his chambers and she was properly seen to.
“What did I do wrong?” she asked. “Should I not have killed— Oh shit, did I kill the princess? I couldn’t tell what sort of creature it was.
It was too far away for me to feel its soul—if it had one—so…
” She grimaced, fear running amok. “Fuck, I wasn’t thinking.
Fuck! It was just that…it was so twisted and wrong. It was—”
“Daisy, steady,” he said, holding her tighter. “I don’t know what—or who—it was, but it wasn’t any of the royals. The king wouldn’t have allowed them to leave. None of the nobility would leave, either. The Fallen will report to us shortly.”
“Okay, seriously…what, then?”
He reached his chambers and pushed open the door. Once inside, he cut straight for the bedroom. He set her on her feet and slowed, his gaze stopping on the blood crusted on her dress.
It’s ruined, she thought absently, noticing his gaze. Not that my alterations hadn’t already started the transition to “unwearable.”
He smirked. She had an acute eye for fashion. He absolutely loved that about her, especially when she was hard on herself for it. Everyone else thought her alterations were fantastic. She’d only roll her eyes to hear it.
He delicately lifted the fabric over her head. She slipped off her bangles as she bent to look at her stomach. Five puncture marks were evident, all of them somewhat healed but bleeding again from her exertions a moment ago. They were as clean as if a sharp knife had pierced her. Magic, obviously.
He gritted his teeth as a wave of rage tugged him under.
The princess would watch her world burn for what she’d done to Daisy.
He couldn’t directly harm her, but he knew enough to indirectly tear everything down that she held dear.
Every fae courtier, every priceless relic, every last comfort she thought she kept private.
She didn’t know what pain was. He’d show her.
“Stay there.” He stopped in his turn to go and put out a finger. “I mean it. Don’t move.”
His tone means he’s serious, Daisy thought, unable to help her running commentary. But then, isn’t he always? I’m not accustomed to—
He lifted one eyebrow.
Her mental commentary reduced to a slight buzz of internal pain. It would have to do.
He nodded and left the room, still paying attention to her mental voice. It never stopped, and it wasn’t quiet.
Her mind replayed images of the fight, the magic, and how she’d used her power to snuff out the threat.
Maybe I shouldn’t have killed the creature on the other end, she thought as he grabbed a bowl, water, and bandages. It didn’t make sense not to, since they were attacking, but…maybe there are…some rules I don’t know…
He shrugged out of his jacket, laid it on the back of the couch, and brought the supplies into the bedroom.
“Here.”
Her eyes widened in fear and worry. Images tumbled through his mind, her projecting without meaning to.
It was something she did when in a heightened state of anxiety.
Blood marred various places on his ripped undershirt.
The wounds lay open and bleeding. Pain throbbed from them, but they looked worse than they were. Mostly.
“Oh my—” Her hands shook as she reached for him. “Don’t here me—Tarian, hell—get something on that!” She snatched away the washcloth he’d brought, threw it on the bed, and reached for his undershirt.
“I’m fine. I’m fine—” He pushed her hands to her sides before reaching for the washcloth. “Daisy, I am fine. I’ll heal. I’m fae. Let’s get you taken care of.”
More thoughts and images jumbled in her mind.