Chapter 31
THE NOT-ENDING
Seraphina
I’ve never seen Ren run so fast in his entire life. Not for anything. Not anyone. Even when he used to indulge my fancies, racing against the kelpies, before he went undercover.
“Ser.” He skids to a halt in front of me.
I have been wearing a path at the Willow’s entrance, waiting for his return, chewing on pine bark to stem the effects of the fairy wine.
Sunny is still with his uncle, sleeping in Ren’s cottage.
Thank the mother. If either of them saw Storm like this, they would think the worst.
“To my workroom.” I jog beside him, rushing past quiet houses, everyone long tucked into bed for the night.
We take a sharp curve before the tree leading up to our lodgings—the ones we built opposite each other many moons ago. “Quick.” I hold open the swinging door behind the apothecary. A bell chimes, Luna making an appearance.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Her old bones practically creak with jest. As one of the most seasoned crones within the Fairy Lands, nothing is serious in nature to her.
“Place her here.” I point to a low bed next to a roaring fireplace. “Lu, I need dragon’s blood now.”
The old woman mutters “Bossy” under her breath.
Ren does as he is told, extracting his sliced wrist from Storm’s mouth, the delicate crystal-entombed rings I’ve kept safe for him gracing his lithe fingers. “Is it enough?” His face is pale.
“Go. Sit.” I point to a wooden rocking chair by the bed.
He takes his worn legs over to the chair, my eyes wandering back to the patient, her body slack and a small, moving bundle on her chest. “Goddess.” Phoenix. That explains the blood.
I pull open the brown cloth covering the small face. One bright blue iris and one milky pearlescent orb watch me, inquisitive. Fae eyes. Mother sight.
There’s one endless moment I allow myself to witness her, this miracle.
She squawks, tiny fingers opening and closing around a glimmering chain.
The tip of my pointer finger finds her smooth forehead, needing to know why she is here.
It is tumultuous, rolling, a whirlwind of pictures flashing incoherently.
Images of a girl with white hair and two-toned eyes, of a world not our own, and an explosion.
Singed, my finger retreats.
“Seraphina.” Luna waves the dragon’s blood in front of me.
“Take the child.” I swap the liquid for the baby.
“The human’s child is fae?”
Ignoring her question, I take a needle, pricking my finger. I place ten drops of blood within the tonic vial.
“Open up, Stormy.” I take her jaw in my hand. The brush of our skin confirms what I already know; she’s barely hanging on by a strand. Melek and Ren’s blood are the only things keeping her alive.
I push the tonic bottle past her lips, and she splutters, her eyes flying open. “Drink,” I order. She sips.
Noises come from outside the apothecary. Ren stands on wobbly legs. “You need to rest,” I protest.
“I need to know what’s going on.” Ignoring him as he exits through the door, my focus is on my patient. The dragon’s blood and my blood mixed together should be enough to sustain her. I’ve never used it before. My father said it was a last resort.
“How is the babe?” I ask Luna, who has taken the rocking chair as her own, cooing at the baby she holds.
“The babe is well.” The lines on her purple skin fold like paper.
Turning in close quarters, a small cabinet at my back, I assess the glass containers, searching for the right one.
Thankfully, Luna keeps everything labelled for me, or I’d lose my own head.
“There you are, you sneaky little sucker.” I hold up the ointment jar as the door to my compact room bursts open.
“It’s coming,” Ren announces.
Looking up, I find my cousin more than pale. He’s terrified.
“How?” I answer, raspy. He did tell me about the potential bomb Storm had found in Melek’s files.
I wanted Ren to question the Halo commander about it, but he said it was a moot point—something to do with internal council politics.
If one of the Airiel goes rogue, their place is forfeit, and timelines are altered to subvert potential attacks.
If anything, Ren said the attack was more than likely going to be brought up because of the commander’s disappearance.
“Lane, my last fae on the inside, escaped, driving all night to get here. They are evacuating the Airiel families, which only means one thing.”
Annihilation.
“The dome will hold.” I don’t question it. The goddesses will protect us.
Ren strains his fists, clenching and unclenching.
“Goddess, Ser, I don’t know. This type of warfare destroyed the lands before we returned at the mother’s command.
This is something completely new to our magic.
And they finally have enough supplies to retreat back underground and start again. To get rid of us for good.”
“Mother, have mercy.”
He strides over to Luna, taking the baby from her arms. “We must go.”
Has he lost his head? “I need to care for Storm, and Phoenix will need to feed.”
He spins on his heel, eyes full of rage. Not at me, but at this impossible situation. “And what if there’s no Willow tomorrow? Come with me.” His tone says don’t question me. Renfir, the strongest and oldest fae within the Willow, a true force.
“Fine,” I grumble. “When Storm is awake, tell her to rub this on her stomach. Lots of rest and warm fluids,” I tell Luna, handing over the balm. The old woman gives me a scowl.
“Girl, I know what to do. Go.” Rising slowly, she finds a clean cloth, wetting it and rubbing it across Storm’s face.
Standing at the threshold of the door, I’m half in, wanting to stay to take care of my new friend, and half desperate to please my oldest. “Damn it,” I mutter, running after Ren, who is already powering through the village. “Where are you going?”
His green eyes are almost black in this light as he glowers my way before continuing on with the infant in his arms. The streets around us are still quiet, unaware of the danger that lurks beyond the dome.
Ren continues his quick movements beyond the village. I try to ask again where we are going, but he shuts me down. Baby Phoenix barely makes a peep, content in his arms.
Trudging through the forest, low-hanging ferns hit my shins as I run to catch up with the green giant, making his own path.
It doesn’t take us long before we come to the lake the kelpies inhabit.
My cousin whistles, and the black head and opulent blue eyes of Nyt spring forth out of the water, his long mane dripping as the kelpie slowly rises.
Kelpies communicate through the mind, so the air stays silent as Ren and Nyt talk. Seemingly finished, Nyt lifts his head slowly up and down, acknowledging my appearance, then he retreats into the water.
“Ren! What are we doing? I need to be with Storm.”
Green hands brandish a wiggling bundle towards me. “Take her. Care for her. And never return to this place.”
“Are you insane? What are you talking about?”
I grasp onto the cloth, and he is back at the edge of the water, ignoring my icy stare.
“Hey, don’t walk away from me, Renfir.” He continues to disregard my questions, observing the rippling water—water that is suddenly spinning, parting, separating, circling, a sparkling darkness filling the space. A void.
A portal.
Multiple kelpie heads dip up and down outside of the circle, my mouth open at the spectacle. They don’t slow. If anything, they look to be spinning faster and faster, the effect making it look like they are part of the water itself. A part of the portal. The key.
“Come,” Ren gestures with his hand as he steps barefoot into the rippling water.
To the fae, this lake isn’t overly deep.
Children often swim in it when the heat is high.
However, this lake is magic, and the kelpies are its keepers.
It can expand and shrink at their demand.
They also create portals, it seems—a trait I thought was long lost, the original portal our kind arrived through, having been closed long ago.
There’s no hesitation. This is Ren, my cousin, my best friend.
I trust him above anyone else. My hands trembling, I walk through the warm water to meet him, thigh-deep, before the swirling of the portal begins.
Interestingly, the spinning does not affect the rest of the liquid.
Where we stand is mostly calm, if not for a small wave through the dark lake.
“Listen to me, Ser.” He faces me, pulling me in closely, and I listen to every drop of wisdom that leaves his tongue.
“This is the portal we arrived in centuries past. The kelpies are the only ones with the power to open and close it. They have been waiting a long time. I’ve been—” I don’t miss the glassy look he flashes towards the gurgling baby in my arms. “Take this.” Pulling off one of the silver rings gracing his long fingers, he thrusts it into my palm.
Turning it, a clear crystal gleams at me through its middle.
“It will take you and Phoenix somewhere safe. There’s a strong possibility the dome won’t hold.
Not against what I know they have coming. ”
I gasp at his revelation. “No. I’m not going. It should be you. Take her?”
A cry comes from my outstretched arms that have pushed the baby into his chest. Ren’s face is flushed, tilting his head to look down at her bright blue and white eyes, demanding his attention, already so alert.
He groans, resting his forehead on my own, looking down at us.
“Keep her alive. You’re the only person I trust. She’s meant for greatness. ”
“Ren, this is crazy. We need to take her back to her mother.” I go to pull away from him. He groans, getting in my face.
“I love you. Go.”
“No. Ren—” He retreats. I stand on the precipice of the portal, and before I can make a decision, it’s made for me.
The edges of shimmering starry darkness find me worthy, surrounding my body, drawing me closer.
The feeling is strange and prickly. Before he is lost to me, I look at my best friend, mouthing, “I love you.”
Ren’s hands are fisted at his side, striking jaw clenched, vigilant on the shoreline as we fall prey to the swirling, glimmering magnet.
Head titling upwards, gravitating towards the dome, Phoenix strapped tightly between my breasts, my form is featherlight.
And I observe the crystalline dome sparking, fire reigning supreme, the wall of water closing with a sickening slurp.