Chapter 14 #2
Mandy exhaled slowly. “Yes. It’s true. Some of them were bound that way centuries ago. The ritual strips their magic and leaves them vulnerable to possession. They become hollowed out, controlled by whoever cast the spell.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “So, she’s a prisoner in her own body?”
“Exactly,” Mandy replied. “But…” her tone darkened, “if she was bound, she must have done something to deserve it. The Fae don’t bind their own for nothing.”
Lucy shook her head. “No. I don’t believe that. Whatever she’s done, she doesn’t deserve this. She’s good, I can feel it.”
Byron glanced at her. “Feeling and knowing aren’t the same thing, Luce.”
“Maybe,” Lucy said, “but I trust my instincts. We must help her.”
Mandy hesitated for a long moment, then sighed. “There is one way. But it’s risky.”
“Risky how?” Corey asked.
“We can summon someone who might know how to undo the binding,” Mandy explained. “Someone from the old realm.”
Barnaby’s eyes widened. “Summon? Like… bring them here?”
“Yes,” Mandy said. “But if we do, Erin and I can’t be seen. If they realise, I’m here, it could expose both of us. Dark and light fairies don’t forget debts, and I’ve run from mine long enough.”
She turned to Erin. “Come on, love. Let’s prepare.”
They stepped out into the garden, the night air cool and still. Lucy and the others followed at a distance, watching as the two of them knelt on a patch of bare ground near the edge of the trees.
“Stay back,” Mandy warned softly.
Erin raised her tiny hands, her face set in concentration.
She began to move them in slow circles, and the ground trembled.
A vine sprouted upward, twisting and coiling until it formed a perfect spiral.
In the centre, a single flower bloomed, large, purple, bell-shaped, and shimmering faintly in the moonlight.
Erin turned to her mother with a proud smile.
Mandy nodded approvingly, then looked toward Lucy. “When you’re ready,” she said, “stand before it and speak these words:
‘Ancient light, I call to thee,
Come forth and set what’s bound now free.’
“Once you do, wait. They will come. Erin and I will stay hidden until they leave. I'll feel their arrival through our bond, and when it’s over, I’ll return.”
Lucy swallowed hard and nodded. “Understood.”
They gave it half an hour so that Mandy and Erin could get enough distance before chanting into the flower. The house fell quiet except for the faint hum of the flower glowing outside. Everyone took turns watching it, even though deep down they knew it wouldn’t do anything until the right moment.
Then. Three sharp knocks broke the silence.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Everyone froze.
Corey looked up from his seat with a crooked smile. “That can’t be them… can it?”
Barnaby snorted nervously. “Well, it’s not the pizza guy.”
Lucy gave him a look before walking slowly to the front door. She opened it carefully—and stopped breathing.
A man stood there, easily seven feet tall, his presence filling the doorway. His skin glowed faintly under the porch light, smooth and flawless. His long blue-black hair fell to his waist, and his eyes, dark as obsidian they seemed to see straight through her.
He smiled, and even Mary, watching from the stairs, seemed momentarily lost.
“Good evening,” the stranger said in a deep, melodic voice. “Someone called for help.”
Lucy stepped aside. “Please… come in.”
He inclined his head politely, stepping past her. “Then tell me, child of both sun and shadow—how may I be of service?”
Mary, unable to help herself, took a step forward. “I have many tasks you could assist with,” she murmured, half-teasing, half-dazed.
“Mary,” Corey hissed, pulling her back.
The stranger’s grin widened slightly.
Lucy cleared her throat. “Mind her, she’s harmless. Mostly.”
He chuckled softly, his gaze drifting toward the flickering glow still visible through the window. “If you think she's harmless, then more fool you. This is not the reason why I'm here though is it?”
Lucy led the stranger through the hallway, the others followed at a cautious distance, their footsteps soft against the marble floor.
When they reached the sitting room, Davina still lay where they had left her, pale, fragile, and impossibly still.
The stranger stopped in the doorway, his expression shifting from curiosity to something almost sorrowful. “I know this energy,” he murmured.
Lucy frowned. “You recognise her?”
He nodded slowly, stepping closer. “Not her exactly, but her kind. I can feel the echo of her aura.” He crouched beside Davina, his long fingers hovering just above her skin, tracing invisible lines through the air.
A faint shimmer followed his movements, the air rippling like disturbed water.
Byron watched him carefully. “Who are you?”
The man looked up, his dark eyes warm but weary. “My name is Jared,” he said simply. “I belong to the Kynar.”
Barnaby raised an eyebrow. “The Kynar?”
“Yes,” Jared said. “We are the perfect balance between what others fear and what they worship.”
Sam snorted quietly. “Bit of a boring name for such a dramatic mix.”
Jared’s lips curved into a small grin. “I didn’t choose it. Clearly, our ancestors had very little imagination.”
Jared turned serious again. He placed one hand lightly on Davina’s forehead, another over her heart. His expression grew distant, as if listening to something far away.
After a long pause, he whispered, “She’s trapped deep inside. Her spirit has been locked beneath a binding spell so strong it’s begun to merge with her essence.”
He opened his eyes and looked at Lucy. “We should talk.”
They guided him into the kitchen, the faint scent of tea leaves grounding the strange energy that still hung in the air.
Mary, ever the host even amid chaos, motioned toward the kettle. “Would you like some tea?”
Jared shook his head politely. “No tea, thank you. But a glass would be appreciated.”
He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and drew out a glass container filled with shimmering blue liquid. He opened it carefully, poured it into the glass, and took a slow sip. The room filled with the faint scent of berries.
Barnaby, who had been quietly scanning Jared’s energy signature with his tablet, finally couldn’t help himself. “What is that?” he blurted out. “That drink. What does it do?”
Jared chuckled softly. “As one who carries both light and dark within, I must support balance. This elixir keeps me sane. Without it, the two halves of me would tear each other apart.”
Barnaby’s eyes widened. “Fascinating. That must have taken centuries of trials and magical theory to perfect, testing, refining, all the variables of—”
Jared interrupted with a smirk. “It’s blueberry juice.”
Barnaby blinked. “Wait, what?”
Jared took another calm sip. “Yes. Blueberries. Very grounding.”
Jared set his glass down, his tone returning to its calm authority. “Now, back to the matter at hand.”
Lucy straightened. “You know she’s a dark Fae?”
“I do,” Jared replied. “And you want me to bring her back to reality, to unbind what holds her.”
“Yes,” Lucy said, her voice firm.
Jared studied her for a moment. “What were her crimes?”
Lucy hesitated. “I… don’t know. She’s never said. I didn’t even know what she was until tonight.”
He sighed softly. “Then you understand my hesitation. The bindings placed upon her are not punishment, they’re containment. If I remove them without understanding why they were cast, she could become dangerous.”
Lucy’s chair scraped loudly as she stood, frustration flashing across her face. “Please. You can’t just leave her like this. She’s suffering. Whatever she’s done, she deserves a chance.”
Jared regarded her quietly for a moment, then reached into a small pouch at his belt. From it, he withdrew two small spheres attached to delicate silver chains. Each sphere shimmered faintly.
He placed them carefully on the table. “Bind her feet with these. When I remove the spell, they’ll hold her in place. They’ll ensure she cannot harm you, or herself until she’s stable.”
Lucy stared at the spheres. “Are they safe?”
Jared replied with a small shrug.
Byron exchanged a look with Lucy, then gave a faint nod. “Do it.”
Lucy took the chains in trembling hands. They felt alive, with energy as if whispering against her skin.
The air seemed to thicken as they re-entered the room. Davina remained motionless, her face pale but peaceful. Lucy knelt beside her and carefully fastened the chains around her ankles. The silver links glowed faintly as they tightened, then went still.
Jared positioned himself opposite Lucy, palms hovering just above Davina’s chest. A faint sound filled the room, low and resonant.
“Stay back,” he murmured. “The unbinding of Davina has begun.”
Chapter 9
Byron, Corey, Lucy, and Barnaby stayed to see the procedure.
Jared stood over Davina, his tall frame steady and calm. The markings along his forearms glowed faintly, alive under his skin, streams of silver and black twisting together.
He turned to Lucy. “Once I start, don’t interrupt me. No matter what you see. If you break the connection, you could lose her. Or worse.”
Lucy nodded silently.
Corey crossed his arms, jaw tense. “You’re not exactly filling me with confidence here, man.”
Jared didn’t even glance at him. “Confidence isn’t what keeps people alive. Obedience is.”
Jared lowered himself beside Davina and pressed one hand gently against her chest, another against her forehead
The air trembled and the temperature dropped instantly. Frost formed along the windowpanes, creeping outward like spiderwebs.
Jared spoke gently, “she’s been trapped like this for years.”
Lucy swallowed hard. “Can you free her?”
“Yes,” Jared murmured, “but I can’t promise what will wake up in her place.”
He began to chant again, and the air thickened. The silver chains around Davina’s ankles started to hum, vibrating softly. Her body twitched once, then again.
A low moan escaped her lips.