| |
PHAEDRA SLOWLY FLOATED upward from Pixie-induced sleep, awakening to the clamor of running footsteps and low, murmuring voices. Interspersed with those sounds were those of sniffles and sobs—the cries of other girls.
Opening her eyes, she blinked several times to clear her vision. A Pixie dust hangover made her head spin and nausea well up in the back of her throat. She fought against the sensations, determined to get her bearings so she could understand what was going on.
Turning her head to the right, she found that Maxine remained next to her. She had come awake and begun staring around in confusion just as Phaedra did. Beyond her, the other three girls seemed to be stirring awake as well.
More noise drew her gaze left, where she discovered that the remaining six cots had been filled. The footsteps she had heard were those of the Dark Fae—bringing their captives into the large room and chaining them to the beds. A few of them had been knocked unconscious, but the others were wide awake. Their fear and confusion brought tears to Phaedra’s eyes. She couldn’t imagine being like them—unsure of what exactly they were here for, but still understanding that their lives were in danger.
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she reached up to grasp the chains attached to her shackles. Giving them a swift tug, she tested them against the metal headboard there were attached to. Much to her dismay, the chain was strong and the bed—despite being old and rusted—held up under her abuse.
“No,” she whispered, as it became more and more apparent that she’d run out of time. “No, no, no!”
Panic gripped her, and she began jerking on her bonds, rattling the chain against the headboard in her desperation to get free. Beside her, Maxine began to sob, as if she, too, understood the gravity of what was about to happen.
“Quiet!” one of the Dark Fae snapped. He appeared over her, his pale face contorted into an expression of annoyance. “There’s no getting out of this, so you may as well cease your squealing.”
“Let them cry,” Eranna’s voice said from beyond Phaedra’s field of vision. “As you said ... no one knows where they are, and by the time they are discovered, it will be too late.”
The Eendi who had taunted her shrugged and backed away, disappearing from her line of sight.
Raising her head, Phaedra craned her neck and found Eranna standing a few feet away, in the center of the room. She seemed to be waiting for the last of the girls to be settled onto their cots.
The ritual was about to begin.
The dark queen wore voluminous black robes with a hood, with a silver mask covering her face. Yet, Phaedra knew it was her by the way she stood and surveyed everyone and everything around her—as if fully aware of the fact that she was in complete control.
As if sensing Phaedra’s gaze on her, Eranna turned her head. She could feel the queen’s withering gaze set on her from behind the black eye slits of the mask. Phaedra glared at her, clenching her jaw so hard it began to ache.
“Don’t give me that look,” Eranna taunted, sashaying toward Phaedra’s cot. “If you and your little friends hadn’t attempted to break into my penthouse, you would not be here.”
“You do realize you messed up, right?” Phaedra retorted. “By bringing me here, you’ve ensured that Rothatin and the others will not rest until I’ve been found. And when they do find us, they are going to tear this place apart.”
At least, that was what Phaedra hoped would happen. She knew as well as everyone else that the prophecy coming true depended on all seven princesses of Fallada living until the end. If Eranna didn’t realize she had the seventh lost princess—The High Princess of Fallada, at that—she soon would once she had sucked them both dry. This would mean all the battles they had fought and won would mean nothing. That alone would motivate her friends to leave no stone unturned looking for her.
Please, she prayed for what had to be the hundredth time. Please help them find me.
Eranna’s laughter filtered out from behind the mask—amusement tinged with a taunt. “My darling, even if they did discover where we are, it is far too late.”
Without another word, Eranna began backing away from Phaedra’s cot to where she’d originally stood in the center of the room.
Phaedra’s chest burned as she choked back a sob. She was going to die—right here, right now. Her sister would lose the only constant family she’d ever known. Fallada would never be the same again. Arrian would never know how much she loved him.
“Phaedra?”
Maxine’s soft voice drew her attention, and she turned to find that the other girl had tears in her eyes as well.
“I’m sorry,” Phaedra whispered. “I’m sorry you never got to discover who you really are or what you’re capable of.”
“Then they are real,” Maxine replied. “The dreams ...”
She nodded. “They’re the realest part of your life.”
Closing her eyes, Maxine sighed as if in relief, even though they were so obviously doomed.
“I knew it,” she murmured. “I always knew—”
Maxine went silent, just as some unseen force slammed into Phaedra with the power of a freight train. A white beam of light flooded her vision, seeming to coat her skin from head to toe. A scream ripped from her chest, followed seconds later by cries of pain from the other girls in the room. Her back arched up off the bed, as the force of the power seemed to pull on her from within.
Gritting her teeth, she glanced around and realized all the other girls were glowing as well. The white beam originated from Eranna, who stood with her hands outstretched, as if pulling the light straight into her palms.
Clenching her chains, Phaedra bent her legs at the knee, the action taking far more strength and energy than it should have. She felt as if a weight were trying to compress her down to the bed, but she fought it. Bracing herself against the mattress, she physically pulled against the power, which sucked at her like a magnet.
The light around her shuddered, almost as if she’d shook it with her resistance. Through the pain lancing within her, she was struck with the sudden realization that she could fight this. Sucking in a deep breath, she continued pulling away from the light, even as it wrestled against her in a tug-of-war. Her strength had begun to wane, but she was determined not to simply give up her life without a battle.
“Max!” she managed to scream out between whimpers of agony. “Fight it! You have to fight it.”
Beside her, Maxine’s screams seemed the loudest of all—echoing from the rafters of the building.
“I ... I can’t!” she cried, her voice gone hoarse.
“Yes, you can,” Phaedra urged. “You are so much stronger than you think you are. Dig deep, Max ... fight!”
Suddenly, the girl on her other side went limp and silent. Casting a glance at her, Phaedra noticed that her face had taken on a ghostly pallor, and her cheeks had sunken in until her bones protruded unnaturally, her lips tinted blue. Closing her eyes against the gruesome sight, Phaedra choked down a sob and continued to fight for her own life. She couldn’t think about the girls dying around her, or she would lose all hope and the will to fight.
“Your struggles are useless, Princess,” Eranna called out, her voice rising to echo as if amplified by her growing power. “As the other girls feed my power, you will become no match for me. I will take your soul.”
Shaking her head, Phaedra sucked in a deep breath. The cries of some of the other girls had died out, but she couldn’t give up.
I will not rest until I have found you.
Arrian’s words echoed in her mind. It wasn’t over yet ... not until he had found her or she had died. And she was not going to die without giving Eranna hell.
Beside her, Maxine’s screams sharpened, sounding as if some new agony had been added to the current torture of having her soul sucked dry. Daring a glance to the cot beside her, she gasped at what she found.
Maxine’s eyes had taken on a white glow, while the roots of her hair had begun to turn pristine white. The color bled along the strands of her hair, the black disappearing as if the white eroded it away.
Then, just as suddenly as she had screamed, she went silent, collapsing against the mattress with her eyes closed.
A tear escaped Phaedra’s eye at the sight, and she couldn’t contain a sob of despair.
Fallada’s high princess was dead. Which meant, even if Phaedra survived there was no hope.
The thought nearly drove her to let go—to allow herself to die along with Maxine and end her torment. If the high princess was gone, what else was there to fight for? Yet, before she could act on the impulse, the sudden sound of shattering glass chased the thoughts away.
Opening her eyes, she furrowed her brow as she tried to determine what she could be hearing now. The sounds of a struggle, it seemed ... along with the flap of birds’ wings? Gigantic wings by the sound of it.
Gazing straight up, she caught the shadow of something flying over her, just as a person jumped from its back and landed on its feet on the ground. Her heart soared while more of them seemed to drop from the ceiling, the sound of Fallada’s birds of prey swooping overhead becoming like music to her ears.
Raising her head as much as the force fighting against her would allow, she spotted a flash of white-blond hair and a silver spear—Rothatin. Grunts and curses interspersed with metal striking metal clued her in to the battle going on around them. It seemed the Dark Fae were trying to prevent anyone from getting to their queen before she had completed the ritual.
“Now, Gretchen!” Rothatin’s voice called out, resounding through the room.
The crackle of lightning followed the command, and within seconds, the overwhelming force sucking the life from her had faded.
Phaedra exhaled with relief, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t dead, and Eranna had been stopped. However, she felt as if she’d been hit by a truck, and couldn’t be certain how long she would continue to live. The sounds of battle continued to go on around her, but she couldn’t even open her eyes to see what was going on.
“It is too late,” she heard Eranna say. “You might save your princess, but I have more than enough power to return to Fallada and reclaim Mollac!”
“Your continued lust for power will be your downfall,” Rothatin retorted. “The people of Mollac have already risen up behind Desdemona and proclaimed her their queen.”
“We shall see how long she remains queen,” Eranna growled just before a frigid blast of cold air erupted through the room.
Phaedra shivered against the cold, and the sensation of being stabbed with a dozen icicles tore across the surface of her skin.
“Get them out of here!” Rothatin bellowed, the sounds of a fight continuing around her.
She forced her eyes open just as someone’s face appeared within her field of vision. At first, it was only a smudge swimming in the haze of her unfocused eyes. She blinked a few times, forcing herself to stay awake instead of sinking into the deep sleep that seemed to call to her.
“Phaedra.”
The voice calling her name was the sweetest she’d ever heard, bringing tears to her eyes. Suddenly, his eyes—as blue as a river—came into focus in front of her. Then his nose, lips, and chin ... until she could make out his entire face.
“Arrian,” she croaked, her voice rough and raspy. “What ... happened?”
His hand slipped gently beneath her head, then the other beneath her shoulders, urging her slowly into a sitting position. Unable to force her useless limbs to work, she fell limp against his chest, inhaling his comforting, woodsy scent.
“Gretchen distracted Eranna long enough to stop the ritual,” he murmured, wrapping her in something warm and causing her trembling to cease. “She’d taken enough power to make her escape ... she’s headed back to Fallada, I imagine.”
“We have to ...”
“Shhh,” he urged, scooping her into his arms and standing. “Don’t worry about anything right now. I must get you home. There are healers waiting.”
Nodding, she buried her face against the soft fabric of his shirt. “You came.”
His lips brushed her forehead, and she registered that they had begun to move. He was walking with her, taking long, swift strides away from the sounds of the fight going on around them.
“Did you doubt that I would? I’m only sorry I couldn’t get here before she ...”
He trailed off, his voice hitching on the last word. She glanced up and found tears shining in his eyes. His gaze, which was always as calm as the rivers they took their color from, were haunted and turbulent.
He’d been worried about her.
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “You came.”
Clenching his jaw, he nodded, one tear escaping and racing down toward his jaw. “I told you ... I always will.”
He left the rest unsaid. Even though she’d told him not to, he would be there for her. Tears sprang to her own eyes as she realized she could never deserve him.
“Are you ready?” a third voice asked.
Phaedra swiveled her gaze to find one of the Warrior Fae standing by, his massive eagle waiting patiently to take them back to the apartment. All around them, ten others sat, waiting for their Fae masters to return. Ten birds for ten girls.
Her heart sank at the realization that not all ten of them would be going home alive.
“Arrian,” she murmured as he walked her to the eagle.
“Yes?” he replied, keeping a tight grip on her as he slid into the bird’s saddle behind its Fae master.
“The girl who was beside me ... with the white hair.”
Arrian glanced left, then right before answering her. “We have her.”
Closing her eyes, she finally surrendered to the fatigue dragging her down. The words fell from her lips just before she went under.
“She’s the high princess ...”
When Phaedra awakened, it was not to the comfortable surroundings of her bedroom in the New York apartment. Instead, she opened her eyes to a dimly lit, cramped room. A cabin aboard The Adrah, she suspected, as she registered the gentle dip and sway of the large vessel sailing the skies. Furrowing her brow, she attempted to sit up, but was immediately gripped by nausea and dizziness.
“Slow down,” chided Arrian’s voice.
He appeared at her side from a darkened corner of the room and strode toward the bed with quick strides. Settling next to her, he used one arm to keep her balanced, while arranging pillows behind her with his free hand.
Then, he gingerly laid her back to rest against them so she could sit upright without having to use her own strength. Tucking the blankets in tight around her, he then pressed a hand to her forehead.
He nodded as if satisfied with what he felt. “How do you feel?”
“Like I got run over by a car,” she replied. Her entire body ached—her muscles, her head, even her eye sockets. “How long have I been asleep?”
Running a hand over her tangled hair, he grimaced. “Two days.”
Her eyes widened. “Two days!”
Arrian dropped his hand from her hair, reaching out to grasp one of her hands. “Eranna took a lot out of you. It’s a wonder you survived.”
She nodded, remembering the girl to her left who had looked like a zombie by the time Eranna had finished with her. “How many survived?”
Arrian’s brow knit in concern. “Phaedra, you don’t need to worry about that right now. Your focus should be getting better. The Fae healers brought you back from the brink of death, but it could be some time before you’re at full strength.”
“I want to know,” she insisted. “Don’t try to coddle me. I have to know.”
With a sigh, he reached toward the small bedside table and retrieved a cup. Holding it up to her lips, he urged her to drink. She almost protested, but once the liquid hit her lips, she realized how parched she was. She took long gulps of water from the cup, not even bothered by the fact that it was lukewarm. It might just be the best water she’d ever tasted.
When she’d finished, Arrian pulled the cup away and set it aside. He ran a hand through his hair once more and met her gaze. Sadness caused them to appear darker than usual.
“We lost three,” he murmured. “The healers tried, but they were too far gone ... too weak to hold out against Eranna’s power.”
Greif clogged her airway, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Closing her eyes, she sank back against the pillow, choking down sobs as she thought of the three young girls who had died confused and afraid. She, at least, had known she was in the line of fire as part of a war that had spilled over into the human realm. Those girls had never stood a chance.
Arrian cupped her cheek, swiping away a tear that had leaked from one of her eyes. “Luckily, the high princess did survive.”
Her eyes flew open as a gasp tore from her lips. “Max is alive?”
“Is that her name?” Arrian asked with a small smile.
“Maxine,” she amended. “Max for short. But, I saw her die.”
Arrian shook his head. “She went into a deep sleep. I believe on Earth that would be known as a comatose state.”
Phaedra’s mind whirled at what it could all mean. They had just discovered the seventh lost princess, which was something to celebrate. However, they had no notion of what her power might be, or how the prophecy might be affected by her current state.
“The healers attempted to awaken her,” Arrian continued. “They were unsuccessful. So, while she lives, she remains in a deep sleep, unable to awaken. We brought her onboard the ship, hoping that taking her to Goldun could make a difference. Perhaps Queen Adrah will know what needs to be done.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, she relaxed against her pillows. It felt selfish to be happy about Max being alive when three other girls had died. The mixture of feelings exhausted her, until all she wanted to do was sink down beneath the covers and hide.
“How long before we arrive back in Fallada?” she asked, needing to turn the subject so she could stop thinking about the dead.
“Another six hours or so,” he replied. “It could be less, but I can’t know until I leave the room to let everyone know you’re awake.”
She frowned, giving him a once-over. His clothes were hopelessly rumpled, his hair a mess as if he’d been worrying it with his fingers. While still stunningly beautiful, his face clearly indicated exhaustion.
“You’ve been here with me the whole time?” she asked.
Taking one of her hands in both of his, he raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I haven’t been away from you for more than an hour since we found you.”
Tension gripped her throat, and she felt as if she might start crying again. “But, why? I was such a bitch to you.”
He chuckled, keeping his hold on her hand. “Haven’t you figured it out by now, Phaedra? There is nothing you could do that I would not forgive.”
Lowering her gaze to the blanket covering her to the waist, she bit her lip. “Does that mean you’re not mad about Charles anymore?”
Shifting closer to her on the bed, he reached out to cup her chin, lifting it so she was staring into his eyes again. “Do I appear angry to you?”
“You look exhausted,” she replied.
“Well, I am,” he said. “I wasn’t going to rest until we had you back, and now that you’re safe I am relieved. I forgave you for kissing Charles the moment you asked my forgiveness. But, Phaedra, I had to be certain ...”
When he trailed off and glanced away, she understood what he meant but did not say. Despite seeming like something out of a dream or an artist’s canvas, Arrian had spent a century and a half looking like a monster. It had to have eaten away at his self-esteem in a way that left him questioning everything. For one impulsive moment, she had chosen her ex over him. To make matters worse, Arrian had witnessed the moment of weakness. It should have been unforgivable, yet here he was ... forgiving her.
“You had to be certain that I loved you,” she whispered.
He nodded. “As I’ve told you before ... I cannot settle for half your heart. Not when I love you so much that watching that Eendi fly off with you made me feel as if someone had snatched my heart out of my chest. If we’re going to be together—truly, be together—then I cannot allow doubts or past attachments to come between us. Not when I’ve invested every fiber of my being, every corner of my heart, everything that I have.”
He kept his gaze averted, almost as if afraid to gaze into her eyes and discover that she didn’t feel the same way. Reaching out, she did what he had just done to her. Gripping his chin, she turned his head and forced him to look her in the eye.
“Do you want to know what I was thinking about while I was chained to that bed?” she asked.
He nodded, eyes going wide as he seemed to hold his breath waiting for her to continue. She trailed her hand back along his jaw, then up the side of his face and into his hair, running her fingers through the silky strands.
“I kept thinking: ‘Here I am, about to die, and I will never get a chance to tell Arrian how much he truly means to me.’”
Arrian exhaled swiftly, as if in relief. “And now? Now that you’ve survived?”
“I’m glad I can look you in the eye and tell you that I’m all in,” she murmured, tilting her head toward his until their foreheads were touching. “I was afraid before, and I think I used Charles as an excuse. I was afraid to let go of what I had, and give you my all. But, when I realized I might die, all I could think about was what I stood to lose. I don’t want to leave this world without making sure you know that I have never loved anyone the way that I love you ... and I doubt I ever will.”
The smile that crept across his lips was almost blinding in its radiance, the pure joy of the moment emanating from him in nearly tangible waves. Cupping her face with both hands, he pressed his lips softly to hers. Raising her hand to the back of his head, she urged him to take more, to increase the pressure of his kiss. He pressed her back against the pillows, deepening the kiss and tangling his fingers through her hair.
Despite the weakness sapping her strength, she managed to wrap her arms around his neck. Holding him tight, she put her all into the kiss, ensuring he knew just how thoroughly and completely she loved him.
Pulling away from her lips, he kissed the bridge of her nose, then her forehead and her cheeks. Phaedra closed her eyes as his lips found her chin, then her neck.
“I have to ask you something,” he whispered, pausing near her ear.
“Hmm,” she mumbled, turning her head and wishing for more of his spine-tingling kisses on her neck. “What’s that?”
“When we get to Fallada, we will most likely depart for Mollac,” he murmured, giving her earlobe a tug with his teeth. “Along the way, we will likely pass through Inador.”
“I would imagine so,” she replied, barely able to think past the sensation of his lips pressed against her skin. “It’s a long journey and Inador is about halfway between Goldun and Mollac.”
“When we arrive, I would like to take you home to meet my sister,” he continued, lowering his head to kiss her shoulder.
“Whatever you want,” she sighed. Heck, he could ask her to jump off a bridge with him, and she’d likely do it, if only he would keep kissing her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
“While we’re there, I would like to ask her for the ring my father once placed upon my mother’s hand,” he continued, working his way back toward the line of her jaw, kissing a path to her lips. “If you are ready, I would like to give it to you.”
Phaedra stiffened, sitting upright as the gravity of what he was saying slammed into her like a fist to the gut. “Arrian, are you asking me to marry you?”
“Only if you’re ready,” he replied. “I realize that this is sudden, and we’ve only just reconciled, but almost losing you caused me to realize something. Nothing is certain, and no day is promised. Like you, it occurred to me while you were gone, that you could die and never know just how devoted I am to you. I want you to know exactly where I stand, Phaedra. I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow, or even next week. I realize that you might wish to have your sister, mother, and brothers present for the ceremony, and am content to wait until everything is to your liking. I love you, and I have never been more certain than I am at this moment that I want a lifetime with you. I am not likely to change my mind, so in the spirit of living for the moment ... well, I thought it wise to ensure that you know what I’m willing to offer you.”
Phaedra fell silent for a long moment, allowing his words to sink in. Was she ready to get married? She did love Arrian, and yes, she was all in. There was no one else in the world she wanted to be with—which was something she hadn’t been certain of a few months ago. Almost dying had caused her to mourn everything she might have lost with him.
Allowing her thoughts to drift, she envisioned herself five years from now, and realized she could not imagine her existence without him. Pushing it further, she tried to picture her life in ten years, and was pleasantly surprised to find that not only did it include Arrian, it included children.
Yes ... yes, she was ready. And even if she wasn’t, he wasn’t rushing her. He was right about her wanting her sister, mother, and brothers present for the wedding, which meant she would have plenty of time to get over any cases of the jitters that might pop up.
Giving him a wide smile, she nodded. “Okay.”
His eyebrows shot up, and his mouth fell open for a moment. “You ... you’re saying yes?”
With a laugh, she reached for him again, pulling him close. “I’m saying yes, Arrian. I want to marry you.”
Sighing with relief, he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against his body. “Oh, thank the gods. I don’t know what I would have done if you refused.”
Phaedra giggled, giving his hair a light tug. “You know I can’t resist this face.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, pulling back slightly to look at her. “I’ll have to remember that for after we’re married. It might work to my advantage.”
Wrinkling her nose at him, she fell back against the pillows. “Oh, no, pretty boy. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you get away with absolutely everything.”
Rising to his feet, he crossed his arms over his chest, that wide grin still stretched across his face. “I look forward to many years of attempting to put that to the test, my love.”
Reaching out to him, she grasped his hand. “Where are you going?”
“Up on deck for a moment,” he replied. “I should inform the others that you are awake.”
Shaking her head, she pulled him back toward the bed. “Please, don’t go. I haven’t slept well since we broke up. I missed you too much.”
The smile melted away as he paused near the side of the bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’ve hardly slept either?”
“Yes,” she declared, which prompted a laugh from him.
“Fine,” he chuckled, peeling the covers back and climbing in beside her. “Just know that I never intend to leave you again, which means we should both sleep like the dead for the rest of our lives.”
Turning onto her side, Phaedra nestled beneath the blankets as Arrian’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her back against his firm chest.
“Good,” she mumbled.
Seconds later, she was asleep.