Chapter Nineteen
Benton
The archive was filled with dust-lined shelves and stacks of books piled on tables. Dead leaves had blown in from the entrance and found their way into the farthest corners. Rowan had killed the old archivist for talking too much to Soap and me during our last visit. Now the place felt like a tomb. I knew Ilarial had sent another archivist to take his place, but it seemed like the new caretaker was not up to the task.
“Hello?” I called out. No one answered. I doubted there was anyone there at all. I turned toward Isolde, but she just shrugged as she studied the room. At least I had good company.
“I have something for you,” a voice said from somewhere within.
We held our weapons at the ready and stared into swallowing darkness. Rowan emerged like a ghost stepping out of the shadows.
I stared, convinced my eyes had to be playing tricks on me. She was still there. Why? Surprisingly, she looked immaculate and rested, without the darkness inside her I had sensed on our last visit. In fact, I had to shade my eyes as she approached. Her brilliant skin seemed to reflect the dim light tenfold, and her calm face betrayed no rage swimming underneath the surface. No chaotic madness.
Hmmm.
“Rowan—what happened to the new archivist Ilarial sent?” I asked. “Have you been here the whole time?”
She blinked and threw me the sweetest smile she could conjure. It was laced with something more, for it sent a ripple down my insides. I exhaled, throwing a short glance toward Isolde, who was also staring at the Spring Ancient with surprise. This ripple of magic had me shaking in my boots.
“Benton, how good it is to see you again. It’s been months. I didn’t think I’d ever see you return here, but I knew if I waited long enough, someone would come.”
She turned to look over her shoulder, into the darkness behind her, and called out. “Ciaran, my dear, you can come out now.”
Isolde gasped at the name, and I straightened, anger rising as I held out my Empyrean blade, ready to kill. Isolde’s old partner in crime and ex-friend stepped out of the shadows, looking quite different from the malicious man I’d last seen when he’d poisoned Isolde and then proceeded to kidnap her.
“What is he doing here?” I gripped my sword, igniting its blazing flames, lighting up the darkness. The firelight rippled in waves across Rowan’s and Ciaran’s faces, casting shadows across the bookshelves. The place emanated an eerie glow that made the cavern appear even more ominous.
“Ciaran,” Isolde whispered, hardly believing what she saw. I glanced at her as she watched her old friend slowly approach. He wore a simple navy-colored tunic paired with black linen pants. He paused as I reminded him I was there by waving my sword in his direction. He refused to look my way.
“Isolde.” Ciaran dared speak to her as though they were not mortal enemies now. “It’s good to see you again. I’m afraid we left on bad terms, and I will make it up to you. I promise you that. But there’s so much you don’t know. So much I need to tell you.”
Isolde’s mouth was agape as she stared at her old friend and shook her head. “You betrayed us. You betrayed me. Some things are unforgivable.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he choked on his pride. He nodded in understanding as a great sadness swept over his features. “I know there’s nothing I can do to change the past, Isolde. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, but I’ll try to make amends. I swear to you. Just know that there’s much still to come. I will do my best to make sure that things will be different in the future.” He finally turned toward me and peered down my flaming blade. He tried hard to repress a flicker of hate, but I’d already seen it.
“That includes you too, Benton. I have much to make up for, and Rowan has kindly taken me under her wing. I have worked as an archivist for several months now, and there’s much to learn. Unfortunately, this is not my position to keep forever. The other archivist has recently been trained and is going to return from the city of Aturine soon. When he does, we will accompany you on your journey.”
“Excuse me? You’re not going anywhere with us,” Isolde spat. Her face reddened as she pressed her lips together. Her anger could not be missed as she eyed Ciaran. I wouldn’t want to be on the other side of that stare.
I stepped forward. “What do you mean by join us? You’re not needed.”
“I knew you wouldn’t want to work with me, but I hoped that partnered with Rowan, you’d learn to accept our help. There is much we must do, and Rowan knows of the journey Kilara has planned for Shade. She can help her get there. Kilara’s rule over Faerie is killing the land. All will be lost if we don’t help Shade defeat Kilara. Everything we believe in—the land that we love and the people we adore—will come to ruins if she continues to rule.”
Isolde stepped forward, frowning at his mention of my sister. “And how are you both going to help us? It seems every time you’re around, nothing goes well. Benton can back me up on that.”
It was Rowan’s turn to edge forward. She reached out toward my blade with a wickedly sensual smile gracing her lips. I immediately extinguished the flames and pulled away, glaring at her. Did she want to get burned? The blade was an ancient thing made of elemental magic, something unaffected by any kind of Faerie magic, even Rowan’s. As foolish as she could be, it wasn’t smart for an Ancient of Faerie to challenge my sword.
“Don’t touch it. It does not abide by your rules, Ancient though you may be.”
Rowan dropped her hand to her side and threw me another bittersweet smile, sending another ripple through my chest as though she was sending strange warming love magic my way. I was surprised it even affected me because I was an elemental and human. Faery charms didn’t work on my kind. I placed my free hand over my chest, attempting to rub her charms off me as I threw her an unappreciative glare.
“Whatever you’re doing to me, you need to stop it right now.”
“Benton, my dear. Don’t you see? Kilara’s treachery does not only affect the land of Faerie and our magic, it disrupts your earth magic as well. We are all connected even though you refuse to accept it. Faerie is as much a part of you as your fire magic is. The fall of our wards and land will destroy not only us but those of the mortal realm as well.”
“I don’t believe you. Faerie and the human realm are not symbiotic.” I rubbed the spot on my chest harder, feeling the magic growing stronger with every movement she made.
“Explain to me then how my magic can affect you so much now? You say you’re immune to faery charms, yet here you are, feeling my magic penetrate your soul so easily. Yes, I can hear your thoughts. If you’re so immune, how is it that I can get so close to you without your magical barriers affecting me?”
She stepped forward again but instead of letting her enter my personal space, I snapped my blade up between us, its fire reigniting at my command.
It did nothing to protect me from whatever she was doing but kept her from advancing. Her proximity made my head swim, like I was drowning in a field of magnolias, sweet and gentle, beckoning me to submit to Rowan, to do her bidding. I felt dizzy, intoxicated, and everything else in the room disappeared except for her.
“You see, Benton? The powers between you and me are of this earth, and you are of made of the same substance as I am. We are all connected, forever. The other Ancients may not realize this yet, but I knew from the moment the wards crumbled under Arthas and Aveta’s wrath that neither realm can exist if the other falls. I felt it when you saved us from The Withering Palace. You are more than just a mere mortal. The powers between human and faery are what will save everything, and only then will our lands be truly alive once more.”
“You’re saying humans and faeries must work together to save our worlds?”
Isolde studied me curiously, for I was swaying on my feet and shaking, the awkward magic lingering in my head. I stepped back, holding my sword with two hands for fear I might drop it. My head still swam as the air grew dense. It felt euphoric and, oddly enough, I wanted to remain in that state forever. The last time I’d met her, her madness had consumed her and she’d had no control over her own powers. Her sister, Kilara, had tampered with her, but I could see she had shaken off whatever curse her sister had placed upon her, and her magic was at full power.
The first time I’d met her, her madness had been apparent. Now it seemed that the saner she got, the more powerful her hold on magic became. Even her beauty had amplified as her strength blossomed.
Out of all the Ancients, she’d been at rest the longest. I wondered if it had affected her in any way. Positive or negative, it hadn’t done her any good to be asleep. Awake, she was thriving.
Dammit if it wasn’t hard to fight her. I could barely breathe.
“Ahem.” Isolde cleared her throat and with it, my head. I backed away even more, and Rowan’s magic receded.
Instead of looking angered, Rowan dropped both hands to her side, her face filling with despair. “Do you know something, sweet Benton? I have never been in love.”
“Well that’s a shocker,” Isolde scoffed. “You’re an Ancient, and you can have any man you want. Why don’t you just pick one? What makes you think Benton is even interested?”
Rowan peered at Isolde, but there was no malice in her eyes, only sadness and curiosity. “Faerie is dying. Spring is dying. It’s true that we Ancients don’t experience normal emotions like the rest of you, but that’s only because if we do submit, we feel them so deeply that they can become all-consuming. But maybe it was wrong to resist. I never thought I could affect the Land of Faerie so much by avoiding trivial things such as love and family, but my season is the season of birth and regeneration. By avoiding love, I have done something devastating. By not mating, by not continuing the lineage of Faerie, I have left the land barren.”
She glanced down at her feet. “Kilara, who belongs to the season of summer, is withering and leaving the scar of summer drought and death in her wake. Arthas, who is of the season of sleep and fall, lies in a forced slumber I cannot disturb. He cannot tend to his season of transition, so it does not exist. Corb, the lord of winter, rules, but everything dies in the season of death, so he cannot remain in control forever. But he has, and it has killed life in its wake. Having an heir is something I’ve never wanted, but with my sister dying and the land withering, I must choose a mate and have a child to help reanimate the entirety of the land.”
“And what of Shade?” I asked “What must she do?” I was still fighting to catch my breath. Rowan’s magic felt like a sucker punch to my chest, even after it had receded.
“Shade must take Kilara’s place. Kilara is tainted, rejected by the Land of Faerie. Shade must usurp her.”
I shook my head. How did that even happen? Shade would never take Kilara’s place. It was an impossible request. “She will never agree to it.”
Rowan narrowed her eyes and stepped forward as she reached out to me. This time, without any energy left, I could not move away. She touched my cheek, but there was no magic behind the caress. Not at first. I swallowed, feeling a cold sweat break out as her fingers slid down my face. She was doing something now, but I couldn’t tell what.
“It’s not a request, dear Benton. We all do the bidding of the land. We are not in control even though we think we are. Do you think we Ancients were always as such? We were regular faeries once, in a time so long ago that we do not recall much of our ordinary lives anymore. Kilara’s evil has tainted the Land of Faerie, and it has withdrawn its favor from her as it eventually will from me if I do not bear a child soon.” She thankfully pulled her finger away. My face felt warm and flushed where the trail of her touch remained. I was getting annoyed by her blatant use of magic on me. It made my skin crawl.
“I don’t understand why she has to do this. Shade will never agree to it. Why her?”
“She will agree. Give her time. But first she must complete her mission and gives Kilara what she asks for.”
“Why? If Kilara’s life depends on the magic from The Heart of Fire and Ice, why not just deny her it and let her die?”
“Because Kilara cannot be allowed to wither. Shade must be the one to end Kilara’s life and assume her place as an Ancient of Faerie. If Shade refuses, the land dies. She will accept this when the time comes. I will make sure of it.”
I hated to admit it, but she was right. Dammit. I hated when the Ancients were right.
“And this fool?” I motioned toward Ciaran, who didn’t take too kindly to my insult. “Why do we need him?”
He stepped forward, giving me a sneer. “Because, human, I have agreed to help Rowan conceive a child.”