Fauna, the green Faerie, lay in a snow drift a few feet away. I rushed to her side. Although her flawless green skin held no wrinkles, nothing to indicate her advanced age, the color had faded to a sickly shade of celadon.
The ring of raw flesh around her ankles and wrists began to bleed, and she was weak, her luminescence still diminishing, which meant she was dying. I touched her cheek, and the green fey opened her eyes. I stared into round violet irises, speckled with green. In the moment of contact, I saw something, an indescribable impression that was etched in my mind. A vision of a man trapped within an enchanted waterfall. Somehow I knew. It was my father. Tilak emerged from the frosty brush, walking briskly since gnomes never ran unless they were being chased.
I placed my hands on her arms, waiting for her wounds to heal. They didn’t. “Tilak, help me, she’s hurt.” I’d never tried to heal a Faerie before, but I assumed it would work. Why wouldn’t it? The only person my healing touch had no effect on was my mother.
The dwarf peered down at the fey. “She will not survive without the healing touch of transmutation.”
I gave a puzzled frown. “Translation, please?”
“It’s something only the power of wizards can conjure… A wizard of the first order, at that.”
“Okay, but we’re a little short on wizards right now. What else can we do?”
Tilak mumbled to himself, pacing back and forth, his hands locked behind his back. “…And short on elves… They have knowledge of the healing plants. But you left the only one of those in there with her,” he muttered waving his arms.
“Don’t remind me. Just focus. There has to be something we can do.”
The dwarf continued to mutter under his breath, lost in his thoughts.
“Great. Thanks. You’re a ton of help.” I placed my hand over Fauna’s heart, feeling for a heartbeat. The moment it made contact, a strange sensation swept over me. My fingers vibrated with searing heat, like they were on fire. I tried to pull away but a force held them in place. The heat intensified. There was an explosion of pink light so brilliant I had to look away. The force of it blew me into the snow bank. When I scrambled back, green girl sat upright looking at me, an inquisitive frown on her face, her skin returned to its usual shade.
Tilak’s mouth gaped open.
What the heck was that? I stared at my hand which aside from feeling like it belonged to someone else, felt perfectly normal again. I wasn’t sure what happened, but the weight of intense exhaustion descended on me.
“How is it you were able to do that?” Tilak said once he’d regained control of his jaw. “The rose healing aura is something only a mage from the highest order of sorcery can conjure. Even the high elves cannot summon that level of healing power. No one can… certainly not the fey… or a half fey.” His voice dropped. “Not without the access to dark magic.” The whisper in his voice made me nervous.
I inched toward Fauna then stopped, keeping my distance. “Are you alright; can you speak?”
The waif nodded her head, glancing with curiosity from Tilak to me.
“The Ice Witch tried to convince me that you were sent by my father. I’m not sure what to believe. So why don’t you tell me, who you really are, and why it is I run into you everywhere I go?”
She rose, lazily stretching her long body, like a cat waking from a nap. Green skin pulled taut across her chest exposing every rib through her leafy attire. Then she shook herself out, fluffing her coppery hair. “Yes, I’m here for you, silly girl. Though, I wasn’t sent by your father,” she added, bathing the backs of her hands with her tongue.
A part of me fell, and I couldn’t avoid an acute sense of disappointment.
“But I do know where to find him!” She grinned, and then a hair of a second later… she vanished. Seriously, it was like the Cheshire cat; her pearly teeth were the last to disappear.
“Nice,” I grumbled. “I’m officially not a fan of vanishing magic.”
Tilak was still staring at me through his narrow eyes. “Some earth faeries can heal themselves, but the ability to heal others is an extremely rare gift indeed. How long have you had that power?” he asked.
“A while.” I squirmed under his gawking stare. “I’m glad you’re okay, and green girl too, wherever she went.” The castle we’d been ejected from loomed behind us. “Now, I have to figure out how to get back in there.”
“Whoa! Just a minute…” He scrambled in front of me and latched onto my arm. “Perhaps you have completely taken leave of your senses, lassie. You cannot get back in there; to do so would be your end. And the end of the Mythlandria — the reason you are here in the first place.
“Tilak, I can’t leave him in there to suffer through who knows what with that demon. I have to get him out somehow.”
The dwarf exhaled an impatient sigh. “You humans… Always so melodramatic — Lord Adrius is an Elven Prince, leader of both light and dark armies — if he did not wish to stay, he would not have.”
“Maybe, but there’s more to it. Something he’s trying to do… or undo. And it might have to do with the prophecy… Or with me. I couldn’t live with myself if he was hurt because of me,” I said, feeling a tug of guilt. “I’m going after him. You can help or not.”
“I made a promise to Prince Adrius that I would keep you safe and if I let you foolishly run back in there to your ultimate doom then I would not be keeping that promise now, would I? And we dwarves always keep our promises.”
“Tilak…”
He threw his hands in the air.
“Such a stubborn human. Fine… We shall find a way to rescue the Prince who doesn’t need rescuing.”
“Thank you.” Relief swelled inside me.
“But first things first. Your magic may be stronger now, but you are not. I suggest we head for the borders of Woodswyn to find food and shelter.”
This was the first thing we’d agreed on since we met.
****
Night crept in like a cold inky mist. We walked for ages with no sign of food or shelter.
“I’m cold and tired,” I complained, fully aware of how whiney I sounded. But let’s face it, there was little to be positive about. I was stuck here with a dwarf and no food or water in subzero temperatures, and the only one who could see me safely to the Faery Islands was being held hostage in a castle of ice. Yeah, it’s been a stellar night. After what we’d been through and what waited ahead, I’d certainly earned the right to moan.
“It’s not far now, human, stop worrying so much.”
“I’m not worried. Do I look worried?” I retorted letting the sarcasm fly. “I mean, what could I possibly have to be worried about? It’s not like things could get any worse.” The second the words were out of my mouth I wanted to suck them back in. Would I ever learn not to say that out loud?
I felt it first…The cool breath on my back, invisible fingers clawing at my hair.
Tilak sucked in a low gasp.
“What is it?” My words ragged edgy. Prickly sensations traveled down my spine.
“It’s probably best you do not know,” he whispered. “Run… RUN!”
My legs sprinted forward after the dwarf. Murky shadows blurred past as thorny branches grabbed at my hair, scratching my skin. Racing faster than I’d ever thought I could. My heart was pounding in my chest as our feet flew across the soft snow-covered ground.
“Faster, faster, hurry up!” Tilak cried.
I pushed myself to the limit. As we slid around a bend, a sharp pain tore at my side, slowing my pace.
“I-I can’t,” I panted, clutching my waist. I staggered onward, muscles tightened to the point of splitting. A savage burning blazed in my chest.
“You must! Come on, hurry!” The dwarf grabbed my sleeve, obliging me to keep up. Ahead, the silver gleam of an icy bridge reflected in the moonlight. My whole body ached but I pushed myself to keep going, puffing breathlessly. I was in too much pain to continue but too terrified to stop.
“We have to get to the other side,” Tilak hollered. “Once we make it there we’ll be safe. It cannot reach us there.”
His voice sounded oddly normal, as though we’d been strolling through the gardens instead of running at Olympic speed for our lives. I had no idea what was after us, but I’d witnessed enough horrors of the Nevermore to know I didn’t want whatever it was catching up to us.
“Come on, this way, this way, across the bridge!”
Through the dark mist, I made out a swinging overpass leading to a blackened embankment.
Ice pellets whipped at my face, stinging my skin and eyes. The breath on the back of my neck grew colder and, while I couldn’t hear any footsteps chasing us, I could feel something was getting closer, gaining in speed. The burning in my legs spread to my lungs, making it nearly impossible to go any further. I tripped over a branch and tumbled to the ground. Icy mud leached onto my palms and elbows, like a living organism sucking the warmth from my flesh.
I cried out. Tilak raced to my side, yanking me to my feet. “Come on, Come on! We’re almost there… you cannot stop now.”
Did he seriously think I was doing this on purpose? The mud made a low hissing noise as I peeled it from my skin and raced to keep up with the dwarf. Squeezing my eyes tight, I willed myself to keep moving.
“I-I can’t…” I gasped, stumbling over my own feet. It was too much. I was ready to collapse.
Then the invisible fingers raked against my back and in a frightening heartbeat I was upright and our feet pummeled the forest floor. There, up ahead, was the crossing… a rickety bridge almost as dangerous as our tracker. Ice-coated wooden planks were strung together with fraying rope. It rocked back and forth, making the survival odds of crossing it seem nonexistent.
Far below churning black water flowed, littered with thick chunks of ice.
I hate heights… And bridges…
Tilak raced out first, his sure footing finding its way from plank to plank, skipping over the many missing boards. He glanced repeatedly over his shoulder making sure I was close behind.
With a tentative step I eased onto the slick board. The bridge rocked, pitching from one side to the other. It couldn’t have been more than forty feet across and sixty feet high, but it might as well have been a thousand. I grasped the rope, my heart leaping into my throat. Something whispered, Slow down. As my foot hit the next board I slipped, careening toward the edge. I lost my balance and my feet flew out from under me. My scream echoed in the darkness.
“Hang on, human, hang on!” Tilak sounded so far away.
I grasped the ropes that served as a railing, trying to keep from sliding under. You have to do this. Steadying myself, I staggered onwards slipping on the invisible ice and catching my balance with each step.
The end was in sight. We had almost reached the other side when a thunderous crack echoed through the darkness. Turning in unison, we discovered the bridge had been rammed by a glacier snapping one of the ropes which thrashed around like an escaped garden hose. The bridge swayed violently, as though trying to throw us overboard.
“Noooooo!” Was it Tilak or my voice screaming this time?
The snaking bridge twisted and rocked, throwing me off balance. Rope ate into my palms, peeling away skin, leaving my hands raw, but too frozen to feel.
Someone called to me.
“Keep going, human, you’re close now!” Somehow he had made it safely to the other side and was gesturing wildly for me to run. But I couldn’t let go. If I did, the whipping bridge would toss me to what I could only imagine would be a horrible death. Grasping the rope, I pulled, sliding toward the shore, with barely enough oxygen making its way past the knot in my chest.
The bridge tilted at such a sharp angle that one wrong move would be the end. Dragging my body toward the bank, I felt a sliver of hope. And even though my hands were raw and frozen, I forced myself to keep going. Just a few more tugs.
Splintering wood and the whipping of unraveling rope whistled in the night. We both knew what it meant. I watched in horror as the last remaining boards in front of me fell away, into the darkness below. What remained was a gaping hole between me and the shore. As the rope in my hands frayed under my raw fingers, I shut my eyes and leapt, throwing myself toward land.
I landed on the muddy face of the embankment as the last of the bridge broke away, splashed, and disappeared in the dark waters below. Steep and icy, the ground slid out from under me skidding me back toward the treacherous river.
“Tilak, help!”
I heard the strain in my voice. It sounded as if it belonged to someone else. My fingers dug into the cold mud, my feet desperate to find footing.
“I’m coming… Hold on.” Tilak scampered toward the embankment, peering over the edge.
“Get a branch or something!” I hollered, clinging to the side. Behind me haunting whispers floated up, and splashes in the water were growing louder and faster.
Craning to look below, I saw something that looked like a log floating toward me. But as I watched, struggling not to fall, a large head slowly broke the surface; two glowing yellow eyes coming at me. It looked like the head of a horse, only far too large and misshapen. Black and slick, the sheen reflected the moonlight.
“Tilak, Hurry up!” Digging my ripped nails into the semi frozen earth, I managed to climb a few steps before losing my footing, sliding backward closer to the gleaming row of needle-like teeth. “Tilak! …” I slid the rest of the way, my feet hitting the water as my flailing hands landed on what felt like a branch. Ignoring the snorting and frenzied splashing, I grasped it, wrapping my arms around the bough, pulling with all my strength. I climbed the muddy bank as fast as I could, before a sudden sharp yank heaved me up, catapulting me face first onto solid ground. I stayed there heaving… my eyes shut tight, cold oozing through the wet layers of my clothing. It was a long moment before I dared open my eyes. When I looked up, it wasn’t Tilak’s blue-grey eyes staring down at me. Sucking in breath, I gasped, “Julien.”