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Adelaide drew her dagger again and stepped toward Regulus. A blast of white light hit the dagger out of her hand.
“Free him,” the fairy taunted.
With a growl, Adelaide drew a knife and threw it at a vine held by one of the fairies. The fairies on both sides of Regulus darted with surprising speed to the side, and Regulus stumbled sideways with them. Her knife sunk into his left shoulder and she cried out as he winced. Adelaide flinched and bit her tongue.
“Oh, dear.” The fairy tittered, and the other fairies laughed with her. Their melodic laughter grated on Adelaide’s taut nerves. “Better try something else.”
She dug her feet into the ground and found every bit of magical energy left inside. It wasn’t much, like a river reduced to mud. She pushed her energy out, sending blinding blue blasts at the fairies on either side of Regulus. The blasts hit the fairies, and they dropped backward, but held onto the vines and recovered quickly. Adelaide panted, sweat beading on her forehead as her vision swam. She didn’t have another blast in her. She recalled the warning in the Compendium. Mages who drained themselves of their magic died. She looked at the first fairy.
“Please. Let him go.”
“Free him.”
“I can’t!” She clutched her hands to the side of her pounding head. “Please!”
“Yes, you can,” the fairy said in a sing-song voice. “Take power from the tree.”
Adelaide shook her head. “I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.” The fairy crossed her delicate arms. “I suppose we’ll take him with us. He should make a good slave.”
“No!” She held her hands out and stepped toward the fairy, her heart pounding.
The fairy flitted backward. “Lay your hand on the trunk. Pull its magic out into yourself. It has plenty to share, you won’t kill it. You can’t hold all the power it holds. Just take a little. Save your love.”
She looked at Regulus, desperation making her heart pound. Blood ran down his arm from her knife. He struggled against his bindings, but to no effect. Even with her magic depleted, she could sense the magic holding the vines in place. She would need a great deal of magic to free him.
“I’m not a sorcerer,” she whispered. Tears stung her eyes. “I won’t hurt others to help myself.”
“But you’ve already hurt your dear Regulus,” the fairy reminded her. “And you could lose him forever.”
No. No, no, no. She turned toward the tree and reached toward the trunk. Etiros, forgive... Her hand shook. This was wrong. Something deep inside whispered it shouldn’t be like this. Stolen power would only leave her hungry to take more. Somehow, she knew. If she did this, she would become as power hungry as Kirven.
“I’m getting bored,” the fairy said. “I think perhaps we should take our new slave and go.”
“No!” Adelaide turned back to the fairy. “Please! I’m begging you!”
“Don’t beg me, fight me!” The fairy thrust her tiny hands toward Adelaide.
White light slammed into her chest, pushing her backward. She had no strength to even raise a shield. The magic of the neumenet tree thrummed next to her, but she ignored it. Etiros, I don’t know what to do.
Adelaide fell to her knees and hung her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Please. Don’t take him.” She wouldn’t lose him now. Not after everything. “I won’t steal power like a sorcerer. But I can’t lose him.” She looked at Regulus through her tears. He gave her a nod, and she knew he was agreeing with her decision not to steal magic, but it made the tears flow faster. She would watch him until he was gone. Unless...
“Take me, too,” she choked out.
Regulus shook his head, eyes bulging. He tried to say something through the gag, but it was unintelligible. Adelaide looked at the fairy hovering above her.
“If you must take him, take me too. I won’t leave him.”
The fairy flashed a sharp-toothed smile. She flew down until she was right in front of Adelaide’s face. “Give me your hand.”
Regulus made more muffled grunting sounds as she held her hand out, palm up, toward the fairy. The fairy landed on her palm. She was so light; Adelaide hardly felt her. Her wings stopped beating, and Adelaide marveled at the two pairs of translucent, shimmery green wings. The fairy clapped her hands, the sound bizarrely quiet.
“Adelaide Diya Belanger, you’ve passed the test.”
Adelaide gasped as power flowed from the neumenet tree into her. A rush of energy and life, a swelling in her very soul. If Kirven stealing her magic had felt like dying, this felt like the first breath of air after drowning. The colors around her flared with vibrancy. The smell of the grass, the pine trees in the distance, even the freshness of the dirt hit her with unexpected clarity as every nerve ending tingled with life.
The fairy fluttered back up, hovering a short distance away. Adelaide dropped onto her hands as her head spun, dizzy from the rush of magic coursing through her veins. Strong hands gripped her shoulders, and she looked up at Regulus’ concerned expression. She grinned.
“My magic is back.”
His features relaxed and he smiled. She pulled her knife from his shoulder and healed the hole it left behind. Then she healed his ribs. As soon as she stopped, he pulled her into an embrace.
She hugged him, then looked up at the fairy. The fairies who had been holding Regulus now hovered behind the first fairy. There were men and women wearing various earthy colors, all with the same delicate, beautiful features, but with skin tones from ebony to as white as the first fairy and everywhere in between.
“That was a cruel test,” Adelaide said.
The fairy waved a hand. “But it was a good test. We are the guardians of the tree. It’s up to us how we do that.”
Regulus stood and helped her up. “But you didn’t stop me from taking a root.”
The fairy nodded. “There was strong, evil sorcery on you. A terrible corruption of protection magic. Stopping you would have been near impossible. Some things have to happen, and it is not up to us to determine why.” The fairy smiled, but her fanged teeth still made Adelaide uncomfortable. “But I am glad to see you are free of your curse. It will make righting things easier.”
“What do you mean?” Regulus asked before Adelaide could.
“You have made a wicked man very powerful.” The fairy frowned. “The Staff of Nightfall has been broken and useless for hundreds of years. Because of you both, it is whole.”
“I don’t understand,” Adelaide said. “What is the staff?”
“Hmm.” The fairy rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t anyone know anything anymore?” The fairy sighed, and Adelaide shuffled her feet, her shoulders bunching.
“You can store magical power in an inanimate object, such as a staff,” the fairy explained. “When you use your magic, as you are aware, it eventually refills. Unless it’s stolen, in which case, it usually takes an extra push to fully recover that magic. When a mage—or a sorcerer—puts magic into an object, that magic gets locked into the object. It can then help focus a mage’s magic, making a little magic go a longer way. So while it takes an immense amount of power to create such an object, it later helps the user consume less energy to accomplish the same effect. Does that make sense?”
Adelaide nodded, although all the information made her lightheaded.
“A powerful and twisted sorceress created the Staff of Nightfall. She imbued the Staff with corrupted sorcery tinged with her own cruelty, bloodlust, rage, and thirst for destruction. Because of this, the Staff works best when used for destruction, to bring pain and suffering and darkness. It took five mages to stop the sorceress and take the Staff. But such powerful magic is difficult to destroy. So they broke the Staff and each mage hid one piece. The pieces remained undisturbed until the sorcerer Kirven started looking for them. He never would have acquired them all without both of your help.”
“I didn’t have a choice.” Regulus sounded resigned.
The fairy looked at him with pity. “I know. You tried, dear boy. But you learned the hard way not to make deals with sorcerers.”
“My men—”
“Will die at the sorcerer’s hand if he succeeds,” the fairy said. “But you couldn’t have known that at the time. Still. The fact remains, regardless of circumstances, that you both had a hand in creating a powerful threat to all creatures and people not only in Monparth, but in surrounding kingdoms as well.”
Adelaide’s gut twisted. Ironically, given the tiny creatures flying before her, she felt small. “Can’t you stop him?”
“That is not our place.”
“Why not?” Regulus snapped. “Are you cowards?”
The fairy turned red and clenched her tiny fists. “No. We will die if we leave the vicinity of the neumenet tree. It is the link to our realm. Why do you think the sorcerer sent you to gather the root? Because he couldn’t be bothered? He knew what defended the tree.”
“And didn’t warn me,” Regulus muttered.
“Adelaide.” A male fairy with dark skin and wearing indigo hose and a periwinkle jerkin flew forward. His voice was also shrill, although deeper than the first fairy’s. “We can teach you to use your magic. We can help you stop Kirven.”
Adelaide looked to Regulus. His eyes reflected his uncertainty. The fairies had just bound and gagged him and threatened to make him their slave. Although they helped her get her magic back and released him. But she was just one person. They said five mages had to destroy the last person to wield the Staff. How would she defeat him on her own? Was it even her responsibility? She hadn’t wanted to give the sorcerer this power.
“You are one of only five mages in Monparth,” the female fairy said, as if reading her mind. “The others are too weak or too young. You have strength and determination. And more magic than I have seen in a mage for decades.”
“There has to be another way.” Regulus put his arm around her. “Someone else who can help.”
“It has to be you,” the male fairy said.
Adelaide’s shoulders fell. She wasn’t prepared for this kind of responsibility. She had wanted her magic back so she would have a chance against Nolan and could warn the king. But then what? Did she really think the king’s guards would be able to protect him? She considered how easily Nolan had incapacitated Regulus and Father. But then she remembered the sorcerer branding her with his mark. Remembered him pulling her magic out of her. She shivered. She didn’t stand a chance against him.
“Don’t agree to serve him, and he cannot claim you,” the male said. Could fairies read thoughts?
“And the neumenet’s protection is on you now,” the female said. “If you had tried to steal the tree’s magic, you would not have been able to. Unlike all other living things, in Etiros’ mysterious wisdom, the neumenet tree’s life cannot be stolen. Now your magic cannot be stolen, either. So, you see, you are the only one that can stop him. We will help you.”
She rubbed her forehead. What else could she do? If no one else stopped Kirven... Nolan’s note to Father invaded her thoughts. The king would die. Regulus would die. Her family might die. She would be lucky to die. Adelaide had told Minerva she wanted to use her magic to help people. If she refused to fight Kirven...she would have to face the possibility she had been lying to herself her entire life. That all she had truly wanted was power, not to help.
“All right.” Adelaide hated how small her voice sounded. “Teach me.”
The fairies smiled, their white fangs bright. “We will. But you have to come with us to our realm.” The female looked at Regulus. “He must remain behind.”
