Enchanted Revenge (20 page)

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Authors: Theresa M. Jones

BOOK: Enchanted Revenge
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Chapter Thirty Seven
Ephemeris
continued: Due to the magics surrounding the journal, only someone the owner trusts can see the words written.  Though an ephemeris normally looks small in size, it can hold as many pages as the author feels like writing. Any page can be turned to at will by the author, or by someone who has already read that page before.

I tried to get a better feel of my surroundings. Who all was where and who was fighting with whom?  But I couldn’t.

A guard came at me, his fist flying straight for my face. I moved to my right, grabbed him arm and pulled him down. Just like Alec taught, I used his own weight against him.

He fell, but then jumped right back up. Without hesitation he lunged for me again. I turned around and kicked his chest, again knocking him to the floor. This time I didn’t give him a chance to get back up.

I took a step closer to him and kicked the side of his knee, breaking it, before dodging his arms that reached for me.

He flipped himself up, balancing on his good leg, and growled, “You bitch!”

I went for his other leg, hoping to damage that knee as well, but someone grabbed me from behind. An arm, thick and stronger than I could ever hope to be, wrapped around my neck cutting off my air supply.

I tried to pull the arm away, but I wasn’t strong enough. He squeezed tighter. Pain shot through my neck, spiraling up and down my whole body.

I felt like I was getting dizzy. Black spots dotted my vision. Panic started to set in.

The guard in front of me came at me. But I threw my legs up and kicked him in the chest with as much force as I could muster. He fell down, and the guard holding me stepped back a few times to get his balance, loosening his hold on me in the meantime.

I sucked in as much air as I could, thankful for the reprieve, and started to really focus. I couldn’t panic. Being scared and thoughtless led to people dying. Alec was fighting three guards and wouldn’t be able to save me. I had to do it myself.

I reached behind me and did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed his balls and squeezed as hard as I could, pulling and twisting them.

He screeched, splitting open my eardrum and let go of me. I withdrew my knife from my belt and sliced his thigh, up almost to the very spot I had just damaged with my hands. Blood pooled out and drenched his pants in seconds.

I knew he would bleed out in minutes if he didn’t tend to his wound and was no longer an issue, so I turned to face the first guard again, who was up off the floor.

He had a knife out also. Though Alec had been teaching me how to use one, I wasn’t very good at avoiding them in a fight.

I had the urge to run. To get away somehow, because I knew he would kill me. And to be honest, I didn’t really want to kill him. I wanted to kill the Mortem and he was just in my way.

“Come on!” he shouted at me, unaware of my internal debate.

He reached out with his knife. I pulled back, barely missing the tip. He lunged again. I ducked and spun around. Then he ran for me, I tried to dodge him, but only managed to push the knife away from me.

I fell to the floor and rolled, hoping to keep the guard off me. But he fell down on top of me, pinning me beneath his weight. I lifted my hips in an attempt to throw him off me, but it didn’t work.

He tried to hit me, I blocked it. But then when he tried again, his hand connected with my face, and the pain was horrible, shooting from the point of impact down my whole body.

Just as he reached up and tried to shove his knife into me, Alec came and kicked the guard in the face. I heard the crunch of his nose as it was smashed beneath Alec’s boot, and I couldn’t imagine a better sound.

Alec straddled the guard, punched him three times in the face before he let him go.

“Time to go,” he said, offering me his hand.

I took it and we stood. I studied the scene around me. Lynn and the others were fleeing back where we came from. More guards were coming toward us from the opposite direction.

It was a trap. The Mortem probably weren’t even here.

I nodded, “Yeah, let’s go.”

And together we ran away.

When we got back to our little village, we were finally able to catch up to the other Sprites.

“Where’s Cindy?” I whispered to Alec. He shook his head, indicating we had lost yet another.

That was the first raid we had gone on where the guards were basically waiting for us. We sauntered back to our rooms, not even speaking. It was just another failure. Another attempt at trying to get them, all for nothing.

And we lost someone in the process. I wasn’t close to Cindy. Hardly knew her at all, but I would mourn her death. It could have been anyone out there. Any one of us.

Had Alec not gotten to me when he did, I probably would have a nice stab wound somewhere.

I sat on my bed after walking into our room. But sitting wasn’t enough. I flopped down and then curled into a ball on my side.

“Do you think he died?” My voice hardly sounded familiar.

He came over to me and laid down next to me, leaving only inches between us. He placed his hand on my chin and lifted my face up a little, forcing me to look up at him.

“I saw him limp away. Another guard had tied up his wound. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

I loved that I didn’t have to explain further to him. Alec knew what I was talking about, that I feared killing someone, even though that was my whole life’s mission now.

I couldn’t actually imagine killing anyone. I did want all of the Mortem to die. But not anyone else. These guards probably had families, and killing them would just leave more children without parents, more lovers lost, more children gone.

He touched my cheek as I closed my eyes. The tenderness almost brought me to tears. This harsh man, who had been in many battles and killed many people, was also sweet and kind and gentle.

He kissed my forehead, leaning his whole body against mine, and just as I was about to pull him closer, to try and steal a real kiss, he got up from the bed and left the room.

And that’s how it continued. We went on a few more raids, but always brought more than ten of us at a time, in case of another trap.

But after another week of the same thing, I was getting antsy.  I was anxious for something more to happen and I was exhausted waiting for it. Not to mention all the stress and anxiety and nervous flutters I got every time Alec was around. I was still on edge around him, not sure how to act. We’re still close- I told him things, he would tell me things, we would laugh, and fight and train, and we were open with each other. I felt like there was this pull between us, like when you put two magnets close together, but try not to let them touch, no matter how hard they want to.

And then the kiss on the forehead, the sweetness that pulsed all the way down to the pit of my stomach…I wanted more of that.

It was exhausting.

That night when he came to our room, I watched as he slipped out of his clothes and into something more comfortable. No. not like, creeper watched him. Just like, I was a normal girl who could appreciate beauty. Before he slipped a white tee on to sleep in, I stopped him.

“What are they?”

He looked over at me, confused. “What are what?”

I walked up to him, and placed my hand on his torso. For a minute, he almost appeared to relax, before he tensed up at the contact. I didn’t stop though. I couldn’t help it. Now that I was this close to him, and his shirt was off, I could actually admire him. I traced my finger along the black ink that swirled up and over before dipping back down. As my finger dipped lower still, his stomach tightened and sucked in.

His hand grabbed mine, stopping me. And for a minute, I thought he would be angry.

“That tickles,” he whispered, his eyes smiling at me.

“So, what does it mean?”

He took a deep breath, and looked away, as if considering whether to answer me or not. When he looked back at me, I could see vulnerability buried deep within the depths of those green gems. But also trust. And I couldn’t help the swell of pride that look gave me.

“I had the first part of it done when I joined the guard.” He cleared his throat. “I was very proud of that. I was the youngest to enter the Royal Guard. I think I told you that already.” I nodded at him. “The second part,” he pointed to the lines that appeared to lay on top. Though it was all black, parts of it you could see were done in a different style, almost Starry Night-ish, with lines and lines, instead of a solid whole. “I added after Lix died.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It meant ‘Proud’ first. With the added lines, it means ‘Lost.’ Funny how adding a few swirls turns something good into a feeling so sad. I had never noticed it before until I was glancing through a book and saw it,” he looked up at me. “Saw the word ‘Lost,’ and realized how close it looked.”

I walked around behind him and finally got a good look at the tattoo on his right shoulder blade. At first I had thought it was a bird. Instead it was a bird-like creature, with wings that looked like angel’s wings and a woman’s face. It was weirder than it was pretty. But the artistry was superb. It looked almost real.

“And this one?” As I traced the edges of it as well, I could hear him sigh, as if he loved the way my hands felt on him, almost as much I loved touching him.

“A harpy. It’s said that the harpies are the ones who carry the Fae who have died with the blackest of souls beyond the Outer Realm, as they are not welcome there.”

“Where do they take them?” I asked, hoping it was true. I wouldn’t want the Mortem to end up anywhere near where my parents now rest in peace.

“No one knows. As far as we know, there is nothing beyond the Outer Realm. So perhaps they leave them in nothingness to wither alone.”

“I like that. I think I even like the ugly little harpy things,” I said as I walked back around the front of him.

“Good. She likes you back.” The gleam in his eye and the dimple in his cheek made my heart skip a beat.

“She?” I teased. “You realize it’s just a tattoo.”

He placed his hand on his chest in mock horror, then reached back and patted his shoulder. “Shhh, Daisy. She didn’t meant it.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Daisy?” I questioned. “You’re so weird.”

I walked away and jumped back in bed trying desperately to forget how amazing his back felt under my hands but knowing full well that I would never forget it.

“Don’t be jealous because I have pretty designs on me and you don’t.”

I scowled at him as he jumped into his own bed. “Jealous? Of a silly boy?” I taunted.

“I’ll have you know I’m
all
man.” And then he winked at me before wagging his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes and hid my laugh well. “If you feel the urge to say that out loud, it probably means you aren’t.”

“Well I could show you.” He sat up and sauntered over to my bed. Excitement thundered through me. My heart sped up, stuttering over itself. My hopes began to soar. “But maybe another time. I don’t want to sully your pretty eyes.”

I sighed, as he climbed back into his own bed. I stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything, but mostly him. I turned my head just enough to see him out of the corner of my eye. He was awake, laying the exact same way I was.

“I want one.”

He turned his head and looked at me. I ignored the sizzle in the air that bloomed every time he looked at me, especially in the dark.

“What do you want, Lily?”

You
! I shouted at him in my head, but thankfully refrained myself. “I want a tattoo.”

He turned over to look at me, and propped himself up on his elbow. “Of what? Where would you get it? What would it mean to you? Tattoos are permanent. You need to be very sure you know what you want before you decide to get one. It’s not something that you should get just on a whim.”

For a minute it felt like he was chastising me, which seemed super hypocritical. But whatever. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, or where it would go, but I knew what it would mean to me when it happened.

That night, I dreamt of harpies taking babies to a volcano. My brain was so whack sometimes.

I only had two days left until my birthday. And maybe it was this upcoming event that was causing the majority of my anxiety. Especially after staying up and reading the ephemeris every night, I kept wondering what would happen if I didn’t get magic? What if I was spoiled-ruined-magicless? I mean, there weren’t any statistics on how many fae were born magicless or anything, and I hadn’t seen even one yet, but it was still a fear that constantly boomed in my brain.

She had written an entry about a child who was brought before her, as the mother was hoping there was something the queen could do to save her child. The mother begged her to do something, anything to help her child have magic. She regretted ever having the baby, regretted loving the man who gave her the spoiled fae.

The experience strengthened the queens resolve to never have children.

I kept thinking that as soon as it happened, as soon as my birthday came, I would be ready. I would go out there, find the Mortem, kill them, and be done with it all. I felt like everything was building up, getting ready to explode. But in the back of my mind, I had this
dread
, this indescribable
fear
that I wouldn’t have any magic. That this whole journey would be for nothing, because it didn’t matter how much I trained, how far we walked, or how bad I wanted it, without magic I knew I wouldn’t be able to win.

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