The Faerie War

Chapter 18

Eighteen

“Crap.” Ryn urges Arthur forward, but the flying creatures are gaining on us.

“Would now be a good time to say ‘I told you so’?” I ask. Ryn was so certain Draven’s guards wouldn’t show up on dragons, and yet here they are. Flying toward us.

“Probably not. How about later?” Ryn twists around to get another look at our pursuers. “Although … I’m not entirely sure those are dragons.”

Arthur roars and swerves to the right as sparks strike his left wing. I clutch Ryn’s waist to keep from being thrown off while Ryn wraps an arm around Arthur’s neck. Moments later, a spear glances off Arthur’s thick hide. “They’re not guardians,” Ryn says, watching the ordinary spear plunge into the ocean. Arthur twists his long neck around and sends a burst of flames behind us. He flaps his wings fiercely and spins in the air to face his attackers.

“Flip, those are manticores,” Ryn says.

Now that they’re only a dragon’s length away from us, I can see the lion bodies, human faces, and scorpion tales of our pursuers’ steeds. The riders look like faeries, and the sparks of magic they’re sending our way certainly suggest they’re faeries, but their shaved, tattoo-covered heads aren’t something I remember seeing before.

Arthur sends another blaze of flames curling and licking through the air. The manticores scream in fury, baring their several rows of teeth. Their riders throw spears and knives and sparks that turn into sharp pieces of bone. We deflect everything with shields, then strike back with our own magic.

The air is soon filled with curses, smoke, and bursts of light as the three creatures whirl around each other. Arthur is much larger than the manticores, but they’re faster and more agile. They claw at his sides and strike with their stingers. I s***h at them with a sword whenever they come close enough, and Ryn tries to dismount the riders with a few snaps of his whip. Nothing seems to do any good, though. Even arrows are useless with so much movement going on.

I’m starting to tire—both from magic use and the effort of staying on Arthur’s back—when a ball of white flame comes speeding toward us. I throw my hand out and stop it with a shield, but it bounces off at a weird angle and strikes Arthur’s neck. He rears up and lets out a roaring shriek, throwing Ryn and me backward in the process. The flimsy strap around my waist snaps.

I’m falling.

Falling, falling, falli—splash. The slap of the water stings my body as I plunge into an ocean of bubbles. I float, weightless. Then I pull at the water with long strokes, reaching for the surface. The bag on my back isn’t heavy, but I still feel like it’s dragging me down. Finally, my head breaks through. I suck in air as I tread water, looking around for Ryn.

“V!” I hear the shout behind me and swing around. Ryn swims toward me, the sword sliding back and forth across his shoulders. “You okay?” he asks, pushing wet hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah. You?”

He nods and looks up. I follow his gaze and watch Arthur flying away. One of the manticore riders sends a few sparks after him. The other rider throws something mesh-like through the air to his partner, but keeps hold of one end. It hangs in the air between them. The moment they snap it tight and dive toward us, I realize what it is.

A net.

“Get down!” I shout. I take a great gulp of air and drop beneath the rolling waves. But it’s too late. The net is weighted and sinks easily through the water and over us. I try to swim down and out the bottom, but the weighted ends move toward each other like magnets and stick together, leaving us trapped inside. I stick my fingers through the lattice and get a good grip on the net, meaning to tear the thing apart with as much magical strength as I can muster. But a burning starts in my palms the moment the mesh comes into contact with my skin.

Burning, burning, burning—I snatch my hands away, no longer able to stand the pain. I turn in the water and see Ryn about to do the same thing. My ‘no’ comes out as a distorted rush of bubbles. Before he can reach the edge of the net, it rushes toward us, tugging us up and out of the water in a dripping heap. The net touches my neck, my face, the back of my right hand. I jerk away from the burning, managing to get into a position where only my clothes and boots touch the enchanted mesh.

I find a snarling manticore and its tattooed rider hovering in the air in front of me. The other one is to the side, facing Ryn. The net floats between them, held up by some invisible force they’re no doubt controlling.

My back is pressed against Ryn’s, so I hear rather than see the sparks he shoots at the rider. A second later, pain zings across my shoulder as the sparks tear through the edge of my jacket and dissipate in front of me. I recoil as Ryn says, “Flip, what the—”

“You shouldn’t do that,” the rider facing Ryn says. “The net will contain any magic or weapons you try to throw at us.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryn mutters to me. “I didn’t know it would—”

“Hey, you’re not marked!” I blurt out as I catch a glimpse of the rider’s right palm.

“No.” His lips twist into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “We’re not. Lucky, aren’t we?”

His manticore swipes a claw at the net, causing it to lurch to the side. I fall against the net. My skin burns. Ear, chin, hands. I push away from the net with my elbow. “Wait, stop! We’re not marked either.”

The rider swings his manticore around so that his own sneering face is now inches from mine. “That’s the point, sweetheart.” He looks across at his partner and gives him a small nod. I twist to see the other rider. He raises both hands and—

My thoughts are slow and heavy. I struggle to get them turning. It’s like swimming through thick syrup. A voice keeps saying my name, but I can’t muster enough strength to break through the syrupy layer and answer him.

So I wait.

As my mind dips in and out of darkness, the heaviness slowly dissipates, until finally, finally, I can force my eyelids apart. The first thing I notice is the pain. The heaviness masked it, but now I’m fully aware of the burning on my face, hands, and lower back. I blink a few times, but things seem to be taking a while to come into focus.

“Stunner spell,” I mumble.

“Yeah,” Ryn says, his voice sounding close. “Always love waking up feeling like I’ve been drugged.”

I realize I’m lying on my side. I push myself up carefully, trying to use the heel of my hand instead of my palm. I’m on a hard, cold surface inside what looks like a dingy prison cell. Metal bars block off one side of the room, and dim light comes from a passageway on the other side of those bars. If I listen carefully, I can hear the quiet, continual slosh of water against a shore. I guess we’re not far from the ocean.

“You okay?” Ryn asks.

Seems like kind of a dumb question. “Aside from being burned, stunned, and locked up? Sure. I’m just peachy.” I blink again and see a crisscross pattern of red marks on one side of his face. “Ooh, ouch. Is that what my face looks like?”

“Yeah, and your back. Your jacket must have gotten pulled up after we were stunned.”

I twist around and lift the back of my jacket, but I can’t see much. I shake my head and try to ignore the hot pain. “I don’t get it. If these guys aren’t marked, and we’re not marked, shouldn’t we be on the same side?”

“I don’t know. It seemed like the reason they caught us was because we’re not marked.”

“I wonder if—Wait, where’s the sword?” I suddenly remember we had more with us when we fell from the sky.

“Where do you think?” Ryn asks, gesturing vaguely toward the bars. “It’s not like I dropped it in the ocean, so they must have it.”

“Crap. We have to get it back, Ryn.”

He rolls his eyes. “Thanks, V. Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“Hey, why are you getting mad at me? It’s not my fault we ended up in this situation. In fact, I think it was you who suggested we go through the—”

“Yeah, it was,” he interrupts, pushing himself up off the floor and walking to the bars. He presses his forehead against them. “It’s not you I’m mad at,” he says quietly.

So he’s mad at himself. I stand up, noticing for the first time that my clothes are still a little damp. I stand next to him and look out at the passage. It’s as bare as the cell we’re locked in. “I guess we could say it’s your fault, but it’s not like that’s going to help, is it? So instead I’ll say this: We will get out of here because we’re guardians and we kick ass, and no manticore-riding, bald guys are going to stand a chance against us.”

Ryn looks down at me with a smile. “There’s that overconfidence I’ve missed so much.” His eyes slide down my face to my shoulder, and his smile fades. “I’m sorry about the sparks that hit you. I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Of course you didn’t. Besides, it barely grazed my skin. It’s probably already healed.” I slide my fingers beneath the layers of my clothing and feel my shoulder. “Yup. Perfectly healed. Nothing to worry about.”

His smile is small. “That’s good.” He turns back to the bars. “I’m guessing this cell keeps magic contained the same way the net did.”

“Probably.” I gently rub my still-burning palms together until a mist begins to pour from them. I blow it toward the bars. It curls through the air, but instead of passing between the bars, it meets an invisible barrier. “Yeah. Same as the net.”

When I look back at him, Ryn is watching me with an expression I can’t quite define. Sadness and longing? More than that? Just when I start to feel a little weird, he looks away. He leans against the bars and examines his hands. “At least we can still use magic, even if it’s only in here.”

I frown. “Why wouldn’t we be able to use magic?”

Instead of answering me, he pushes back the sleeve of his right arm. Then he reaches forward and takes my right hand. He gently pushes my sleeve up until I can see my guardian markings and the scar that rings my wrist. The scar that matches his. “I started telling you about it before,” he says, “but I was interrupted. Zell discovered a metal that blocks magic. He fashioned the metal into strips that could wrap around a person’s wrist and stick there, blocking the use of magic. I’ve worn one. You’ve worn two.” He touches my wrist, sending a shiver up my arm. “The metal is incredibly painful to remove from your skin, and when the procedure is finished, it leaves a scar.”

“Unlike any of our other wounds,” I murmur.

“Yes. Anyway.” He folds his arms across his chest and walks to the other side of the cell. He leans against the wall and says, “We need to be smart about this. There’s no point in trying to attack them when they’re on the other side of the bars. But they’ll have to come inside eventually, to move us out, if nothing else—”

“And that’s when we’ll strike.”

“Yes. We’ll need to gather power so that if the opportunity comes to stun them, we can take it.”

“But we won’t know when they’re coming, and once they do, there won’t be enough time to gather all that power.”

“There might be, if we keep them talking before they come in.”

I sit down on the floor and cross my legs. I nod. “We can try that.” I look up. “Do we fight well together? I mean, not against each other, but as a team?”

He joins me on the floor, but on the opposite side of the room. “We do. At least, we did before you forgot me.”

Right. So the fact that I took that stupid potion is once again ruining everything. But I don’t want to go back to talking about that because there’s really no point. I don’t know what else to talk about, though. There are so many questions I want to ask about my past, but how can I when they don’t seem nearly as important as our present? When the silence between us begins to feel awkward, I say, “I assume they took your amber and stylus?”

Ryn nods. “I checked as soon as I woke up.” He taps one finger against his knee, then says, “You know, silence used to feel natural between us. We were friends for a long time before we hated each other. And then we were friends again before we were … more. The point is, I don’t want you to feel weird around me. Yes, I miss the way things were, but I’m certainly not going to force myself on you. If the only thing we can be is friends, then I’ll take that. So …” He gives me the smile I was probably madly in love with in my previous life. “No weird silences?”

I return the smile. “Okay. No weird silences. But just so you know, if you did try anything, I’d—”

My words are cut off by the echo of heavy boots in the passage outside our cell. Ryn and I jump to our feet immediately. Any remaining sluggishness from the stunner spell vanishes from my system. I mentally reach into the core of my being and start gathering power. I hope Ryn is doing the same.

A bald, tattooed manticore rider slows to a lazy swagger as he comes into view. “Well, well, look who’s awake.” He grasps the bars and leans forward, obviously confident we won’t be able to hurt him from in here. “Did you have a good night?” he asks with a smirk.

“Look, I think there might be a mistake here,” Ryn says carefully. “We’re not marked; you’re not marked. Surely we should be on the same side?”

The rider faerie laughs. “We’re on no one’s side but our own.”

I make sure I’m still gathering power before I say, “So why lock us up? Why not just let us get on with our own business?”

“Because that would be bad for our business.”

“Which is what exactly?” Ryn asks, not quite as politely before.

Tattooed Guy scratches his chin before saying, “I guess you could call it bounty hunting.”

What? “And we’re the bounty?”

“You got that right, sweetheart.”

Ryn moves a little closer to me. “Why? What did we do?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Tattooed Guy waves a dismissive hand. “No need to blame yourself. It’s all about who you are, not what you’ve done. You see, we have a deal with some of Draven’s men. They steer clear of our territory, and we bring them unmarked fae. For a fee, of course. And guardians are worth the most.” He rubs his hands together, probably in anticipation of his payout. “So, you’ll be visiting the Unseelie Court. Not yet, of course. We like to collect at least ten fae before making the trip. Until then, and as long as we have another free cell, we should probably separate the two of you.”

Ryn takes another step toward me, so that his body is partially blocking mine. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Oh, I think it is.” Tattooed Guy looks to the side as another pair of footsteps makes its way toward our cell. The second rider who aided in our capture saunters into view with a large cylinder held over his shoulder. He watches us with a smug expression, and I know he wants us to ask, so I do.

I nod my head toward the cylinder and say, “What is that?”

The smug smile stretches wider. “I know you guardians have your pretty weapons, but this is something that’ll blow the underpants off anything you’ve got.”

“I doubt it,” Ryn mutters.

“Do you now, young master guardian? Well, I’ve always been a collector of shiny things, and right here—” he pats the cylinder “—is where I keep my lightning collection.”

My eyebrows climb higher.

“Yup, I’ve been fortunate lately with all the storms Draven’s been throwing around. Plenty of opportunity for collecting lightning.” He takes a step closer to the bars and watches me with unblinking eyes. “Ever been fried by lightning, missy?”

I don’t actually know, but I’m guessing probably not. Before I can say anything, his partner pulls out a key from his pocket, holds it up, and says, “So. You two just behave yourselves, and no one will get hurt.”

I return my attention to the power I’m gathering. I’ve definitely got enough to stun one of them. I look over at Ryn, but he’s watching the rider insert the key into the lock. The key twists, and the loud click tells us the door is open. He steps inside and beckons to me. “Come quietly, little guardian, and I won’t have to hurt your friend.”

I don’t move.

With a sigh, he walks toward me. I’m about to send all my stunning power straight at him, but Ryn gets there first. He throws his arms out faster than I can blink. But instead of seeing the rider fall, I see bright, crackling light flash past me. I recoil as I hear it strike the wall.

After blinking my temporary blindness away, I find the three of us inside the cell still standing, along with a small crater in the wall. The second rider is standing in the doorway with his lightning cylinder pointed at Ryn. The smug smile is gone.

“Next time, it’ll be your face, pretty boy,” he warns.

He must have shot lightning at Ryn’s power to keep it from striking the rider inside the cell. There’s no time now for Ryn to gather more power, which means it’s down to me. If I can stun the lightning guy before the cell is locked, hopefully Ryn can take down the guy who now has his hands on me.

I put up a fight as he drags me from the cell, but only for show. I want to get out so I can get to the other guy. Ryn grabs my arm as I pass him, but the lightning cylinder swings to point at me instead, and Ryn backs off at once. Lightning Guy steps back from the doorway to allow my captor and me to leave. The moment I pass the bars, I tear one arm free and shove it toward Lightning Guy, releasing all my pent up power. He knocks my arm to the side with his cylinder, sending all my power straight into the passage wall instead. The wall shudders, and a crack appears.

Dammit!

I jab my elbow backwards into my captor’s stomach and slam my boot down onto his foot. His hold on me loosens enough for me to pull away from him and aim a punch at Lightning Guy. Before I can swing my arm forward, the cylinder flies at my head.

I hear Ryn’s shout, but I can’t see anything for a few moments. When my vision clears, I find myself lying on the passage floor with a throbbing ache threatening to split my head in half. I see Ryn struggling with the first guy. Then I see the flash of crackling light that strikes Ryn in the chest and throws him back into his cell.

“No!” I scramble up onto my knees, but Lightning Guy grabs a fistful of my jacket and drags me across the floor to the next cell. I kick him as hard as I can, and he kicks me right back. The impact of his foot in my stomach sends me across the threshold and into the cell.

The door slams shut.