Rebel Faerie

Chapter 4-2

“Good luck to any scientists trying to explain this,” Perry says. “No wonder people are taking about aliens and parallel worlds and the apocalypse.”

I swallow and clear my throat before asking, “Do you know if there were people inside this house?”

“Yes. Sadly, there were. Apparently there were people inside all the houses that have vanished.”

I breathe deeply against the rising nausea. “If my Griffin Ability had just been ready a few seconds earlier, I could have saved this house, this family. I could have—”

“Don’t.” Calla grips my arm. “Don’t even start that. You didn’t do this. You stopped it from happening to every other house in this town. Okay?” Though I can’t push the nausea down completely, I nod. I know she’s right, even though it feels like I should have done more.

I hear a faint hum then, and Perry reaches into his jacket for his state-of-the-art amber. He frowns at it for several moments before writing a quick reply and putting it away.

“What was that about?” Calla asks. “More news?”

“No.” He doesn’t look at her as he answers. “It was Gemma, actually.”

“Oh.” Calla nods slowly. “Are you guys …”

“No, don’t worry. We’re not getting back together yet again.”

“Okay. Good. I mean, I think that’s good? I wouldn’t want the two of you to break each other’s hearts for … what? The fifth time? Sixth time?”

I turn away from the wall and face the crowd as Perry says, “Fifth.”

“Right,” Calla says. “So, uh, is she still at the Estra Guild?”

“Yes. She was just asking for the name of our new fish bowl designer. She wants to get in touch with him for some reason. I’m not asking why.”

“Okay.”

After breathing out slowly once more, I think I’ve managed to bury the nausea. “Can we find a TV somewhere and see some of the stories that are being reported?” I ask. “Or I guess we could just hang around out here and listen.”

“TV’s probably the quicker option,” Perry says. “We can just go into one of the homes around here and find one.”

I look over my shoulder at him. “You want to go inside someone’s home?”

With a puzzled look, he says, “How else are we supposed to watch the news?”

“Um, I was thinking more like a cafe? You know, so it doesn’t feel like breaking and entering?”

“Don’t worry, we won’t be breaking anything. Faeries do this kind of thing all the time. How are we supposed to save a sleeping human from an enchanted winged serpent that’s taken up residence beneath the bed if we’re bothered about things like entering private homes?”

I blink. “That’s … a joke?”

He laughs, while beside him, Calla pulls her stylus out and looks around. “Nope,” Perry says. “That was one of my first solo assignments when I was a trainee. I successfully pulled off the entire operation without waking the human. I would have scored full points for that assignment if I’d been able to capture the serpent instead of letting it get away.” He frowns at my open-mouthed expression. “Why are you so shocked? I thought Dash told you all about what guardians do. I mean, when they’re not hunting down Griffin Gifted fae.”

“He … he did. He spoke about trainees and assignments and … stuff. I guess I just didn’t think about monsters hiding under people’s beds and invisible faeries wandering around homes without permission.” My frown deepens as I consider something. “How many faeries hung around inside Chelsea’s home watching me before I realized I had magic?”

“Probably just Dash,” Perry says. At my raised eyebrows, he quickly adds, “And in case you were wondering, it is absolutely forbidden for us to simply watch a human when it’s inappropriate to be watching them. If Dash happened to see something he wasn’t supposed to see, it would have shown up on his tracker band and his mentor would have severely reprimanded him. Then he would have been replaced with someone—”

“Holy heck, you mean he could have been hanging around when I was changing or showering or—”

“No! Absolutely not. That’s what I’m trying to say—”

“Okay!” Calla says, loudly enough to be heard over both of us. “That house over there.” She points past the lone wall. “That’s where we’re going. I’ll open a doorway and direct us. Keep your minds blank.”

I think of nothing but the darkness while we’re inside the faerie paths. We exit on the other side—and walk straight into a coffee table. Perry grunts in pain as the table screeches against the floor, and Calla and I grab hold of each other to regain our balance. “What was it you said about not breaking anything?” I ask Perry as he bends to rub his shins.

“The table is completely fine,” he informs me.

Calla walks across the room and into the next one, saying, “I’m just double-checking no one’s home.”

I look around at the well-worn couches, the scratched wooden floor, the desk and computer in the corner, and the TV and picture frames on the wall. “It’s so weird just walking into someone else’s house.”

“Do you want to sit?” Perry asks me, gesturing to one of the couches.

“No, of course not. That would be even weirder.”

“Looks like we’re alone,” Calla says, striding back into the living room. “Perry, can you turn the TV on?”

Perry picks up the remote control from where it’s sitting on the table we bumped into. “Okay, uh … how exactly do I find the news?” Perry frowns at the remote. “This doesn’t look the same as the one my sister has.”

“Here, this’ll be faster,” I tell him, moving to the desk and computer in the corner. “Most people only have streaming services on their TVs these days.” I slide into the chair, tap a random key on the keyboard, and wait for the screen to come to life. Fortunately, there’s no password required to log in. Instead, I find a browser window displaying an email inbox. “We’re totally invading someone’s privacy right now,” I mutter as I click to open a new tab. In the search bar, I type the name of the first news broadcaster that comes to mind. After clicking through to their website, my eyes dart across the home page, looking for words like ‘magic,’ ‘apocalypse,’ and ‘end times.’ It seems utterly absurd. This is one of the biggest and most reputable news names across the world. They wouldn’t sully their home page with words like—

But there it is: a link labeled ‘Live Coverage on the Supernatural Attacks.’ My heart thunders as I click the link. A video pops up showing a woman with perfectly styled blonde hair standing in a park with tall buildings rising above the treetops in the background. For a moment, it appears there’s nothing unusual about this scene—until I notice the bright sparkling light whizzing around the top of the tallest building in the background.

“… in Central Park, where less than an hour ago, the brand new Haverton Tower Hotel was attacked by what many are describing as—” the woman hesitates, her mouth twisting slightly, as if she can’t bear to say the word “—supernatural forces. Guests of New York’s tallest hotel have been evacuated after three men appeared in the penthouse suite and attacked the occupants with what appeared to be electrical discharges emanating from—from their hands.” Her own hand clenches around a section of her purple pencil skirt as she says this. “Dozens of eyewitnesses have reported seeing the same unexplained electrical activity as the men made their way down the upper floors of Haverton Tower, and many claim to have been knocked down by invisible forces. The penthouse suite occupants managed to escape with minimal injuries, though Haverton Tower management declined to confirm their identity. The number of casualties is unknown at this time.

“The three suspects, one of whom has repeatedly been called a ‘demon’ by eyewitnesses due to his dark red eyes and red and black hair, vanished upon reaching the hotel’s foyer. His two accomplices are reported to have hair dyed green. Police are on the lookout for men matching this description and have requested that anyone who happens to see them maintain a safe distance after informing authorities.

“This is the sixth in a series of unexplained incidents that have taken place across the world since the sudden appearance of an opening in the air above Rhiningsville, almost forty-eight hours ago. Cell phone video footage of the event depicts what appears to be a battle between human-like figures on the other side of the opening. The video, which has since gone viral, was initially assumed to be an elaborate hoax. But the disappearance of a section of land containing seven homes and a barn housing livestock, along with five other unexplained events taking place across the world, suggests otherwise.”

“Holy fudge,” I murmur as the reporter mentions a theory about aliens from a parallel universe while in the background, the sparks of magic move steadily downward, encompassing more and more of the Haverton Tower Hotel. I risk a glance away from the computer screen to check Calla’s reaction.

“What is Roarke doing?” she whispers. “What is he doing? It must be him, right? And he’s breaking, like, the most important rule. Everyone plays by this rule, even the Unseelies. What the hell is wrong with him? Doesn’t he care that he’s exposing us to the entire human realm?”

“Even Draven didn’t go that far,” Perry says, his tone grim.

“Well, I think he planned to,” Calla says. “Eventually. He was just making sure he had the entire fae realm under his control first. But this crazy young prince?” She gestures at the computer screen. “Who knows what his plan is.”

“Or if he even has one,” I add quietly. “He could just be letting us all know how royally pissed off he is that I ruined his plans to make the shadow world bigger.”

“Whatever his reasons,” Calla says, “someone has to stop him. I hope the Unseelie King is already on his way to deal with this mess.”

“I don’t think we can count on that,” Perry says.

“Well, the Guild and the Seelies then.”

“Not you guys?” I say to her, only half-joking.

She shakes her head. “I’d love to, but this is too big for us. This isn’t the kind of thing we do. We operate undercover, helping out where we can. We don’t take on armies, even if they’re only half-sized armies. Especially when more than half our number is currently in Guild custody.”

A crackling sizzle and a scream draw my attention back to the computer screen. Bright light blocks out the image for several moments. When the park comes into view again, it’s at an odd angle with grassy ground filling half the screen. The news reporter and her purple skirt are visible in the other half. She manages to push herself up, leaving us with a view of her ankle, one purple high-heeled shoe, and the silvery sparkles of magic drifting around her leg. She lets out another shriek and a string of curse words that would make Dash’s mother whip out her soap spell immediately. “Dammit, get up!” the reporter shouts at someone. “Leave the camera!”

Her leg disappears as she runs away. The camera remains still. The only movement filling the screen is the dancing and swaying of bright sparkles amidst glowing light.

“Holy frikkin’ moly,” Perry murmurs. “I didn’t think anything could be worse than Lord Draven taking over our world. But this? This is gonna be worse.”