Shadow Faerie
I swallow and shake my head. “I don’t know. Things stopped making sense the moment I discovered magic.”
He tilts his head to the side, watching me for several moments. “You know about the faerie paths, don’t you? You know that they’re the dark space in between this world and the one you grew up in?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that with the right amount of effort, by refusing to think of anything at all, you can stay inside them for a while?”
“Um … maybe?” Dash might have mentioned something like that, but with all the other revelations bombarding me when I first got here, it’s hard to remember exactly.
“Aurora and I did that. Near the monument where the veil was torn over Velazar II—that’s the part of the island where the gap is. The Guild split the island in half years ago, so the prison could remain on Velazar I.” Roarke stands. “Anyway, I was always so curious about that gap in the air,” he continues as he begins pacing from one side of the couch to the other. “I asked so many questions about it during my lessons when I was growing up. And no one ever seemed to have enough answers. So Aurora and I decided to investigate it ourselves. We went back and forth through the tear from the magic world to the non-magic world. We tried to remain concealed, of course, but the guardians stationed by the monument eventually saw us. They tried to come after us, and one of them caught hold of Aurora, so we couldn’t simply drop out of the paths into safety. She managed to kick him off while we were inside the paths, but by then they were close enough that they might have been able to follow the trail of our magic.
“So we hid. We focused furiously on nothing, and the guardians soon disappeared. We could no longer hear their voices through the darkness. Aurora said we should leave in case we got stuck inside the paths forever, but that’s when I saw it in the distance: grayish light and wisps of smoke as black as shadow. And the edge of two worlds.”
If I hadn’t seen it myself, and if magic hadn’t become an ordinary part of my daily life, I’d be convinced Roarke belonged in the same facility my mother’s spent the past five years in. “The edge of two worlds?” I whisper.
“That’s what we saw as we moved toward the light. Grassy ground the same as the ground we’d walked across on Velazar Island. Then it ended abruptly and became a field of tall grass surrounded on three sides by a fence. These were two distinctly different pieces of earth, from two entirely different worlds—co-existing in a brand new world. They were muted versions of the originals, as if most of the color had been leeched from them, but they were real. I even bent down and ran my fingers through the grass so I’d know it wasn’t an illusion.” Roarke ceases his pacing and looks at me. “I finally had my answer, Emerson. I finally knew what had happened to those parts of each world that disappeared. They didn’t cease to exist; they were forced into a new world altogether.”
“So what did you do?”
Roarke sits on the edge of the couch and stares across the room. “Aurora was afraid. She said we needed to leave. She tried to open a doorway to the faerie paths, but it was no use. That was when she began to think we must be dead. She believed the guardians had killed us, and this was whatever came afterward. Some kind of afterlife. But I didn’t believe it. My mind was already rushing to make sense of that world, to piece together how it worked. It seemed to me that the shadow world existed in the same space as the faerie paths. Technically, we were still inside the faerie paths, so that’s why Aurora couldn’t open a doorway.”
“How did you get out? When Dash and I were there, we ran until we saw the tear in the veil, and we kept going until we ended up on Velazar Island. We couldn’t get out any other way.”
“Ah, but there is another way. More than one way, actually.” He looks at me. “How would you normally get out of the faerie paths?”
“You focus on where you want to end up, right? It’s your thoughts that take you there.”
“Yes. And you can leave the shadow world in the same way, but you have to really focus. I think it’s as if you’re so deep inside the faerie paths that it takes concerted effort and intense concentration to get out. An almost meditation-like state.”
My thumb runs up and down the edge of the cushion as I process his explanation. “That doesn’t seem practical.”
“No. It isn’t. That’s why we linked a faerie paths doorway spell to a traveling candle. It was Aurora’s idea. She remembered that that’s the way the witches travel. They don’t use faerie paths. Instead, they add a traveling spell to a candle. When the candle is lit, the person who holds it can travel to certain places by picturing that place. Very similar to the way faerie paths work.”
“Okay, so you would just light one of these special candles, but what about the intense mediation-like concentration part?”
“Oh, the intense concentration is still there. It just has to be employed while creating and applying the spell to the candle.” Roarke waves a hand dismissively. “Higher grade magic. You’ll get there at some point. Anyway, the candles aren’t the easiest method of travel either. They run out, of course, and new candles have to be made. So I went one step further.” He stands once more and reaches for my hand. “I created a portal. Right here in my suite, for continual, easy access.”
My mind races back to the swirling circle of magic I saw on Roarke’s bathroom wall. Without a word, I let him pull me to my feet. He leads me through his bedroom and pushes open the door to his bathroom. I don’t have to feign surprise when I see the portal; the fear on my face probably does a good enough job of concealing the fact that I’ve been here before. “So that’s how the shadow creatures are getting through to this world,” I say.
“Yes. I have men on the other side guarding the portal from the creatures, although they clearly need to be reminded how to do their jobs properly. We’re not sure what the creatures are, but we’ve been calling them ink-shades. Most of the time, they move slowly, like black ink spreading through water. At other times they blend in so completely with the shadows that it seems they become shadows themselves.”
I shudder as I recall hiding alone in here. An ink-shade could have come through at any moment and sucked the life out of me. “So it will happen again,” I say in a shaky voice. “Another ink-shade will get through, and if you don’t see it and kill it, it will hurt someone.”
Roarke rubs my arm, as if that could possibly comfort me. “It won’t happen again. I’m going to station guards on this side as well. If an ink-shade does slip into this world, it will be killed before it can get to anyone.” He takes a step toward the portal before turning back and holding his hand out to me. “Shall we?”
I shake my head vigorously. “No, thank you. I don’t need to go back there.”
“But you’re safe now. You have an amulet. They can’t hurt you.”
I frown as I realize something. “I wasn’t safe the first time. Neither was Dash. You told us to hide when you heard your father coming, which meant we were on our own in that strange world. Ink-shades could have killed us. One almost did.”
Roarke looks down, his expression becoming suitably contrite. “I’m so sorry. We’d had our amulets for a while by then. We’d forgotten there was any need to be afraid.”
“You forgot? You went on and on about how powerful and valuable my Griffin Ability is, and then you left me alone in a strange world with dangerous creatures that could have sucked my magic and life right out of me?”
“You were supposed to hide, not run away. I pointed you in the right direction. If you’d gone that way, you would have seen the door in the hedge that led down into the underground passages.”
“We did go the way you pointed. I didn’t see any—”
“Emerson.” He grabs my shoulders and gives me a small shake. “Just stop. I’m sorry, okay? I never meant for any creature to go after you. And now that you’re properly protected, you’ll be completely fine. You can see this amazing world for what it is.”
“Amazing? What is so
amazing about shadow creatures and a wispy colorless world?”
“Please,” Roarke says. “Please come with me and I’ll show you. This is everything I’ve wanted you to see since we first met. I promise there is nothing scary about this world now that you’re wearing that amulet. The ink-shades will simply float right past you.”
I wonder if I should refuse, just to see if he’ll force me. To see if Dash was right about him. But I’m too afraid to make him angry. So I nod and take his hand, and he leads me into the spiraling magic.
Nineteen
The portal’s magic spins in circles around me, and I’m almost instantly dizzy. I shut my eyes, cling to Roarke’s hand, and take a few fumbling steps forward. “You can open your eyes,” he tells me as the dizziness vanishes. I open them and blink a few times before focusing on the nearly colorless world around me. The grass, the flowers, the trees and hedges—everything is varying tones of bluish grey. The only vibrant color belongs to the four guards who jump to attention at our sudden appearance.
“Would you like to explain to me,” Roarke says to them, “why I just killed an ink-shade in my own chambers?”
The nearest guard blinks. “Y-Your Highness?”
I walk slowly away from them as they stammer out apologies and Roarke threatens to feed them to his sister’s favorite dragon. I look around, trying to figure out where I was when Roarke and Aurora brought me here the first time, and which way Dash and I ran. Somewhere on the right, I think. I see more artfully clipped hedges that way, and the bench they may have sat on while presenting their offer to me. I walk on a little further and see a castle in the distance. Well, part of a castle, to be more precise. It looks open and unfinished on one side, and oddly hazy due to the wisps of a smoke-like black substance curling into the air here and there. Beyond the castle, the world fades into darkness.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” Roarke says, walking up to me.
“You told me you found a piece of land with grass next to a field when you first discovered this world. So where did all of this come from?”
“Aurora and I built it.”
I turn my gaze to him. “With magic?”
“Yes, with magic. That’s why it’s partially built. We can only do so much at a time. It depletes our magic quickly, and then we need to rest before we can do more.” He takes my hand and squeezes it as he smiles. “Do you see now, Emerson? Do you see why you are the perfect queen for this world?”
I glance down at my wrist where the ruby on my bracelet is almost completely red. A section of transparent stone on one end indicates that I have about two hours left until power returns to my voice for the second time today. “Because my Griffin Ability can build anything?” I ask, looking up again.
“You can literally speak the contents of this world into existence.” He reaches out with his free hand and runs his fingers through the silvery grey leaves of the bush we’re standing beside. A black, smoke-like tendril curls slowly around his hand and vanishes. “In addition, your magic will make it so much simpler to claim this world as our own.”
“What do you mean?”
“This world will be ours, Emerson. Officially. You and I will be its rulers.”
I look down at our entwined hands. And how, I wonder, is the woman you were whispering with in your room involved in all this? There’s no way I can actually ask him that, though, so I turn to a different question. “I assume, from what you’re suggesting, that becoming the rulers of a world involves more than just sticking a flag in the ground?”
Roarke gives me a bemused look. “That may be the way they do things in the human realm, but in the fae realm, there is magic involved in properly claiming a territory. The magic and the creatures of the land will then be bound to you. It doesn’t mean they can’t disobey you, it just makes them more inclined to act in your favor. The Unseelie Court and the Seelie Court are territories that were claimed with magic. With your Griffin Ability, we can claim this world for ourselves.”
“I don’t understand why you need my Griffin Ability, though. People have obviously done this kind of spell before without my specific kind of magic.”
“True, but I’m talking about complex magic involving royal blood and sacrifices and many specific words. With your Griffin Ability, we should be able to simply tell the world it belongs to us, and that’s all.”
“Do you really think it’s that simple?”
“We’ll soon find out,” he murmurs, looking across the land he’s already begun to shape.
I bite my lip as I stare at the tower on the completed side of the castle. I probably shouldn’t say what I’m about to say, but I need to understand Roarke and his motives. “Why not just do it now? You’ve already compelled me this evening—told me what to say when my Griffin Ability replenishes—but you could change that. You could force me with another compulsion potion to tell this world that it belongs to you. If this is what you’re really after, then why are you wasting time on a union?”
He faces me fully and takes each of my hands in his. “Firstly, this world isn’t all I want. I want to be joined to one of the most powerful faeries I’ve ever known. You. And secondly … don’t you understand yet that I’m not like my father? I don’t want to force anyone to do anything. Yes, I want this world more than anything, and I’ll do whatever I can to convince you that our union is a good idea. But if you refuse, I would never force you.”
“You’d never force me?” I repeat in disbelief. “Roarke, you compel me every day to say exactly what you want me to say each time my Griffin Ability is ready to be used.”
“To keep my father happy until the union. I compel you to say what he wants you to say. He’s the one who doesn’t trust you yet.”
“So why would he suddenly trust me after the union? He wants my power just as much as you do. He’ll never stop compelling me. He would never take the risk that I’d use my magic against him or anyone else in his court.”
A smile curves Roarke’s lips. “You’re getting to know my father, I see.”
“So you agree with me?”
“I do. My father will never stop forcing you to speak his will. But once you and I are united and the shadow world is ours, this will be our home. We’ll be far away from him and from the land and position he won’t allow me to inherit for centuries still. He’ll have to declare war on his own son in order to get his hands on you.”
“So that’s your ultimate plan? To go against your father and take over a new territory?”
“Yes. If I don’t do that, it’ll be centuries before I can rule over anything.”
“And what if your father actually does declare war on you? He has armies. Surely he’d defeat you?”
Roarke lifts his shoulders in a lazy half-shrug. “There are many in the court who are loyal to me. They would follow us here. They’d fight for us. But yes, there’s a good chance my father would still defeat me. You, however …” He brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek. “He would never defeat you.”
A shiver races across my skin. A whisper of excitement stirs deep within me. In my mind, I begin to see a vague picture of a future I never expected. The promise of power, the promise of finally being in control of my own life. Not just mine, but many others. And Mom would be there too, vibrant and healthy and advising me. This picture of my future is alluring in a way that I recognize is unhealthy. But I was born with this power. Perhaps this brand new world is what I was meant to use it for. “You may be right,” I murmur.
“So do you see now?” I hear the enthusiasm in Roarke’s voice. “Do you see the endless possibilities of this world and your power within it?”
I nod. Look around. “So the tear in the veil is that way?” I ask, pointing to my right.
“Yes.”
“You know the Guild is planning to close it, right?”
“I do know that, yes.”
“What do you think will happen to this world then? What if it ceases to exist? All your plans will be for nothing then
.”
Roarke shakes his head. “I don’t think it will disappear. Closing the veil won’t restore each world to the way it was before. It will close the gap, that’s all. If, however, the veil were to be opened further …”
I frown, following his logic. “Then this world would grow bigger?”
“I believe so. It’s limited at the moment. Very small. We’ve tried to push at the edges, but we end up building into the complete darkness of the faerie paths. We need more space here. We need to extend this world.”
“But if you tear the veil open further, you’ll destroy more of the human and fae worlds in the process.”
With an unconcerned twist of his mouth, Roarke says, “Those worlds are big enough already. They can survive getting a little smaller.”
Like a slow chill creeping on as evening falls, my body begins to grow colder. “Parts of those worlds will be gone forever. People will die. Or … or they’ll become part of the shadows of this world. I don’t know, but either way, we would be killing them.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says with a chuckle. “Besides, your world is overpopulated already. Mine is heading the same way. We would be helping those worlds by using them to extend ours.” He walks forward in the direction of the castle, pulling me along with him. “I’ve taken a closer look at that monument on Velazar Island in recent months, and my spies have told me all they know about this veil restoration spell the Guild will soon be implementing. I think we can interrupt it. Shatter it. Blow that gap wide open. We just need to know when it’s happening so we can be prepared. And then, my lovely Emerson, we can continue building this world.”
The chill that crawls across my skin is no longer a shiver of excitement. I can hardly believe what he plans to do. What he plans for me to do. Does he really think I’d be happy with that? Have I painted such a bleak picture of my old world that he thinks I’d gladly destroy parts of it? I look away from him, my heart sinking rapidly. For a few moments, I thought I may have discovered my purpose, my future. The home I’ve always wanted for Mom and me. But I can’t do what he’s suggesting. I can’t destroy worlds. I can’t kill people.