Chapter Twenty-Two
The Iele village of Nebunie stood under a black veil. It was worse than Pech, and that didn't surprise me. We were moving closer to the Garden. This meant we were going in order from last to first as far as when the villages were attacked. Nebunie had fallen before Pech.
It took more effort this time to clear the blight.
I stood in the frigid morning air, breath steaming, and pushed the Light before me.
It was colder there than at Castle Seelie; the region aligned with Romania on Earth.
But the true chill came from the sight of all that darkness, covering everything like a coating of tar.
But this tar was alive. It writhed, forming vines and branches to claw the air as if seeking more victims before falling back into its sludgy self.
When I sent the Light forward, it screamed in rage instead of pain.
Blasting it back, I thought of its King.
Like a malevolent spirit, the entity formed by condensed foul emotions had no mercy in it.
Even with his utterly black form, I could see the indifference in his eyes.
It wasn't his fault. He'd been made that way.
But unlike the other monsters of Fairy, I had no sympathy for him.
It struck me then that the timing of this uprising was interesting.
Gardens began to slip into their slumber at this time of year.
The grass was still green, and there were many trees with leaves still on their branches, but many more were bare.
With blight infesting them, they gave an ambiance akin to that of a horror film.
Regret didn't care about the weather. It grew bolder in the cold.
Perhaps the warmth of summer had held it back. A garden that thrived in winter.
Again, these were just theories. It bothered me that all I could do was drive the blight back.
The only time I'd been able to destroy it was when it sent pieces of itself into the sky.
Even knowing what it was, I didn't know how it functioned or why it was suddenly starving.
Tiernan and I weren't the first royals who hadn't gone through the ritual.
According to Lady Mariya, the pruning hadn't been done in over a thousand years. So, why now?
The Light dimmed, and I withdrew it to reveal a charming village of rustic homes built in similar styles.
Most had foundational walls of stone and mortar, while the upper floors were plaster walls framed in wood.
Stained wood shingles turned the roofs into a matching palette of golden oak, and the same stain colored the picket fences around every garden.
Gathered in a circle, the homes surrounded a huge, open-air pavilion. That was where we found the Iele.
I rushed through the grassy lanes with Tiernan and our soldiers at my back.
They'd either been herded to the center of the village or had thought to make a stand there.
Seeing the overturned tables ringing the pavilion, I decided on the latter.
Jerking to a stop at the edge of the pavilion, I stared at the fairies as they slowly woke up and looked around.
A sharp contrast to the Licho, the Iele were stunning.
Tall, slender, and very beautiful, they had long hair and Seelie sunlight skin.
Yes, all of them. That surprised me. I thought sunlight skin only occurred in the Seelie Sidhe.
Then I realized it wasn't sunlight skin but something even more beautiful.
Their pale skin shimmered as if dusted with powdered gold. They were breathtaking.
And broken.
The Iele resembled the victims from Begonia with their blank stares and silence. But then they stood. Together. Startled, I backed up. They turned to look at me. As one.
“Seren,” Tiernan whispered. “Come to me.”
I didn't look away from the Iele as I backed up further until I felt Tiernan's hand on my arm.
“Fairies of Nebunie,” Tiernan called out in a deep, commanding tone. “We are your royals. Queen Seren has freed you from a blight that has taken your darker emotions.”
“And yet, they look pretty dark,” I murmured.
As Tiernan spoke, I watched the Iele. They didn't seem aggressive, just creepy.
I recalled what Tiernan had told me that very morning about these fairies.
Their women liked to go to Earth and dance in the forests.
Humans called them Empresses of the Skies because they were so very beautiful.
But here's the thing—as with most beautiful fairies, the Iele were deadly.
They went out and danced, communing with nature like a bunch of hippies, but they didn't like being watched—a bit of entrapment if you ask me.
Why go into a human forest and dance if you don't want the humans to watch you?
But whatever. If they caught a human watching them, they might turn them mad or even kill them.
They were known to be capricious, and anyone who disrespected them or the forest felt their wrath.
They must have had a lot of wrath to be left so empty.
Or maybe they didn't. I thought of the Licho and their joy.
Then the victims of Begonia. The Iele were like the former.
But what did that mean? The Licho had been nearly consumed with their dark emotions, so why weren't they left acting as if they'd been lobotomized?
Both the Anthousai and the Iele were known to revel in their happiness, and yet, freed of their darker feelings, they grew somber. It made no sense.
“Your Majesties, thank you for coming to our aid.” An Iele man stepped forward and bowed, his long, unbound, red hair streaming forward.
“We tried to fight the black tide, banding together here to empower a ward. But the darkness seeped through our magic.” He glanced at the soldiers behind us. “How did you defeat it? What was it?”
His people drew closer until they were one mass, all staring at us. It reminded me of the way the blight retracted into itself. Creepy.
“I used Anu's Light to drive it back,” I said. “The blight is an extension of an ancient garden full of regret. Somehow, it has come to life and is infecting Seelie. Can you tell me if you sensed anything while it touched you?”
“Regret,” the man murmured and looked at the other Iele. “Yes, that's what it wanted. That's what it took.” He looked back at me. “I can think more clearly now. I see how those bad emotions tainted the good. Even love wasn't pure until now. We have been cleansed.”
I glanced at Tiernan without turning away from the Iele. His lips were pressed together.
“It touched your love?” I asked.
A woman came forward. “It pruned our love, Your Majesty. It took the bad parts away.”
“Pruned their love. That's why the Licho reacted so differently. They had very little happiness of their own. If they loved, it was a borrowed emotion.”
“Yes, and?” Tiernan frowned.
The Iele watched me with calm curiosity.
“Their good emotions weren't twisted with their bad emotions. Pruning them didn't dull anything. It's the difference between cutting away a completely dead branch and trimming back healthy ones. The latter leaves a wound, while the former simply reveals the beauty hidden beneath.”
Tiernan's eyebrows lifted. “Yes, of course. That's what happened to me. My love for you was infected with anger. Remove the anger, and you leave holes in the love. I needed time to refill the holes.”
“Then they'll probably recover, even though they were infected for so long.”
Tiernan looked at the Iele. “Yes, I think so.”
“We are not suffering, Your Majesties,” the Iele man continued to speak for the village. “Under that darkness, I felt fear, but now, I am reborn.”
“Good,” Tiernan said, although the skin around his eyes twitched. “Very good. Then we shall leave you to heal. We have another village to get to, and I'm hoping to arrive before nightfall.”
“Tiernan, I can't,” I whispered. “After the air attack, I barely had enough time to recover. Clearing this village has drained me again.”
“Please, we'd be honored if you stayed the night with us.” The Iele man opened his arms, but it looked like a parody of a welcome—someone who knew the motions but didn't have the emotion to back them.
Tiernan looked at me. He wanted to leave. So did I. The Iele were so damn creepy. But I couldn't face the blight as I was. So, I nodded.
“Very well, we accept your hospitality,” Tiernan said.
“Please come with me. My family and I will see to your comfort. The others will find beds for your soldiers.”
“Thank you.” I glanced at Tiernan again, wondering if splitting up was a good idea. But what else could we do—sleep in the pavilion? I looked at the pavilion, considering the option.
But then a group of Iele stepped forward and bowed to us. In unison. I winced. Three of them—the man, his wife, and their son—led Tiernan and me away while the rest went to assist our soldiers.
“Pod people,” I whispered to Tiernan.
“They just need some time.” He looked over his shoulder at our guards.
His King's Guard seemed just as disturbed as I was.
They followed us with their hands on their sword hilts.
I didn't think we were in danger of being attacked by the Iele, but it wouldn't hurt for us to be extra vigilant.
And by “us” I meant them. As soon as my head touched a pillow, I'd be out cold.