The Shadowed Path

14. Reine-1

14

Reine

One of the water wolves in its aquatic form—all scales and teeth—leaped over the boat.

Ellerin and I both flinched, and he asked, "Think you can carry Kestrel?"

"Yes." I didn't know if I could. My back and shoulder muscles were already tired from the activity thus far, but I'd try.

"You get her, I'll attempt to grab John. On the count of three. One, two…"

On three, we dove through the clouds and snatched the humans up. John clutched Ellerin's cloak as well. Kestrel, although slender, still weighed more than I expected, and I struggled. One of the water wolves jumped after us, and Kestrel screamed.

Sweat beaded on my brow as I turned toward the shore, which now seemed miles away. I gritted my teeth and forced my wings to beat. Then a shadow blocked the light from above, and strong hands grabbed me by the waist.

"I'll help you. Keep your wings out so you'll glide." The voice—a deep, resonant version of one I thought I'd never hear again—almost made me want to sob with relief and regret. Almost. A Fae princess didn't show weakness.

Kestrel didn't have any such restrictions on her emotions, and she sounded gleeful. "Uncle Lawrence?"

"Hang on tight, sweetie. We'll get you to land safely."

I glanced over to see another Fae helping Ellerin with John. The newcomer winked at me, and while his appearance didn't spark any memories, his cocky but familiar attitude did. I wanted to study him to figure out how I must know him. All right, I'll admit, his handsome blondness and muscular physique made him nice to look at as well, but I turned my attention back to providing lift where I could.

Lawrence and the mysterious Fae helped us to land on the far shore. We all sat slumped in the light gray sand for a minute or so before struggling to our feet.

Ellerin bowed to each of them. "My thanks." Then he turned to me. I cringed. Would he chastise me for not being strong enough? No, he only inquired, "Where are the packs?"

I pointed up to where they dangled about twenty feet overhead. Those of us with wings looked at each other. Then a voice floated over from across the lake. "Oy, what about me?"

I squinted through the fog. I whispered a plea to the water to carry our voices so we wouldn't have to yell, and it grudgingly acquiesced. The water wolves made it grumpy. "Rhys? Is that you?"

"Yes, sis. I'm stuck, and I'm not getting in that boat." I filled in what he didn't say—he needed help. Ever the Fae prince, he didn't want to admit it.

Lawrence and the other Fae looked at each other.

"Can't," Lawrence panted. "I'm toast for now." In spite of his strong, muscular appearance—holy Fae, I couldn't look away from his pecs and abs—his aura showed that his energy drooped. Something tickled the back of my brain about gargoyles in Faerie, and while I couldn't tease it out, I knew he shouldn't be here.

My wing joints also ached. "Me neither."

Ellerin crossed his arms. "Why doesn't he fly? Where are his wings?"

"Haven't emerged yet." The blond Fae shrugged. "No idea why."

"Still over here!" Rhys' voice had taken on an anxious edge. "And there's a big shadow in the water coming toward me."

"What's keeping your wings from appearing?" I tried not to let my frustration show in my tone.

"I don't know." Now he sounded panicked. "You're the healer—you tell me."

"Our wings are a sign of identity. Have you not embraced your Fae prince side upon returning?"

A long pause, then, so quietly only I could hear, "It's hard with the scar."

"Then you need to do something noble that's hard. Think! Is there a wrong you can right?"

"Not much time for that now, is there?"

Lawrence stumbled, then righted himself. Seeing his clumsiness and how wrong it appeared loosened the knowledge that had eluded me, and my heart dropped to my stomach.

"Did you tell Lawrence about what happens to gargoyles in Faerie?"

At his name, Lawrence's chin lifted, and he straightened. "He said I won't be able to process the food or air here as well."

"Not only that…" I crossed my arms so I wouldn't fling a face-slap spell across the water to my terrible little brother, whom I should probably leave on the far shore, but… "Rhys… You need to tell him the full truth."

The water carried the soft huff of a sigh to my ears, then, "Lawrence, mate, I'm sorry. I needed your help, so I lied. It's not only that you can't breathe as well. The air here is poisonous to you. If you stay here too long, you'll die."

"No!" Both John and Kestrel ran to Lawrence's side like they could protect him from the problem. I squeezed my eyes closed at the overwhelming sorrow the realization gave me.

"How much time does he have?" John stalked over to me. "Tell me."

"I don't know. It's been so long since a gargoyle came into Faerie, we don't have good records or data."

Kestrel put a hand to Lawrence's cheek. She had to reach for it. "Uncle Lawrence, how do you feel?"

"I'm a little tired from that flight and the one before it, but I'm feeling okay. How are you?"

She put her hands on her hips, and the painful expression that flickered across John's face made me wonder if that was a posture she’d learned from her mother. "I'm not the one who's important here. Why did you come? Why are you putting yourself in danger?"

"I came to find you and John. To bring you home."

She dropped her hand and stepped back. "But we're here on a mission. Reine is taking me to the physician to the High Court so he can tell me what's wrong with me, why I can't access my powers."

"And what about you, John?"

"Did you think I was going to allow my daughter to do something this dangerous on her own?"

"I suppose not." Lawrence didn't look convinced, and again, I questioned what John's motives could be beyond protecting his daughter. I mean, that was enough, but the longer we were here, the more something about him made me suspicious. Call it Fae-tuition.

A rhythmic chuffing sound drew our attention to the fog over the water, and Rhys appeared carrying what I assumed were his and Lawrence's bags. His wings had formerly been royal blue and gold—the colors of the higher echelons of the light Fae colors—but now they appeared faded with red streaks through each of them. Another evidence that wings reflected identity. He landed with a less-than-graceful plop.

"I'm out of shape," he gasped.

"Don't get too comfortable." Ellerin pointed with his staff to the water. "You know how water wolves aren't supposed to swarm during the day? Looks like no one told them."