Authors: Alexia Purdy
Tags: #Fiction, #Fairy Tales; Folk Tales; Legends & Mythology
She uncorked the tiny ampule and let one single glistening drop fall silently, like a tear, into the center of the bowl. Pushing the stopper back into the vial, she held the bowl, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did.
“Shade,” Dylan reached over to her, clasping her hand which held the ampule. Grinning, his smile felt reassuring as he continued. “Just let go. Let it work; you know how to use it. Let it out. Relax.”
She breathed in deeply, nodding softly as she concentrated on the one drop within the bowl. Slowly she felt a familiar tingle on her skin directly underneath the bowl. Excited, she deepened her concentration and thrust it all into the drop of water.
Suddenly, the drop quivered, splitting into five drops at first, and then each floating out of the bowl to hang in the air as they grew and grew into five separate orbs of water. They looked like water bubbles glistening in the air as they began to turn and then dance around each other midair. Shade giggled, finding the little dance exhilarating as the water moved faster and faster. She could feel the tingle traveling up her arm and deep into her chest.
She knew right then that he was right. Her magic might have restraints on it, but it was still there, deep within, desperate to escape. It felt amazing, like a part of her heart had been reanimated after far too long. She made the orbs collide into one big ball until it shrank down to its original size of a drop and plopped right back into the bowl.
It had given her the same euphoric feeling it had at the fountains and whenever she had used her water magic. It always was the same, whenever it spilled onto her skin it would leave her drugged in bliss. She wanted to use it even more now, but it had left her exhausted from this tiny bit of exertion already. She uncorked the ampule and watched as she willed the drop to slip back into the vial before she closed it once more, holding it out to Stanis.
His eyes were no longer greedy, but were wells full of awe and admiration.
“Thank you for showing me that.” Stanis nodded toward her and plucked the ampule softly from her fingertips. He studied it closely, rolling it between his slender, twitchy fingers.
“Fascinating magic,” he whispered, almost to himself.
“Now, will you tell me, please? How do I find Corb, the Winter Ancient?”
Ripping his eyes away from the vial, Stanis nodded, a dreamy look had overtaken his features and the entirety of his demeanor was tamer than before. “Of course, princess. Anything you ask.”
Chapter Eight
LEAVING STANIS’ TENEMENT
felt a lot different than when Shade had arrived. The sun was brighter and the air seemed less confining somehow. She was exhilarated that she’d been able to use some of her water magic again with the Pith. Even though it only worked on elemental magic, as Stanis had stated afterwards, it had been enough to rejuvenate her quest to gain her powers back from Corb.
They shuffled out into the less crowded, but still thick evening crowd of the city. They walked less urgently, now that they knew where they were heading. Returning to the Glass Castle was a must to obtain
a more suitable wardrobe for the freezing temperatures where they would be heading to−the depths of the Arctic.
Shade wasn’t sure she ever had even thought of visiting the Arctic, let alone comb through it to find an ancient kingdom. She was certain she’d
hate the freezing below zero weather and wasn’t looking forward to going there, not one bit.
Dylan and Soap stopped in their tracks, causing a small congestion of bodies in the middle of the sidewalk. Dylan grabbed Shade while Soap pulled Brisa against the stone wall of the nearest building. Their faces were concerned; their senses on high alert. Shade felt the tension seeping off them like waves and darted her eyes down both sides of the street.
“What’s going on? Something happening?” She whispered to Dylan as he immediately drew an invisibility shield around them. To an outsider, they would have been standing there leaning against the wall one minute, and then gone the next.
Dylan pulled his sword out, as did the others as they stood there, still studying the crowd for something Shade couldn’t see. When nothing happened, she began to wonder if they were just being paranoid. What would attack them in broad daylight, on a street full of people? Just then, Dylan grabbed her hand and began running through the crowd.
Glancing back, she could see Camulus had Brisa in his grip and Soap followed close behind them. She still couldn’t see what was chasing them but a fear crept up into her as they continued on, dodging thick bottlenecks of people as they eased their way through the more dispersed patches.
“Dylan? What’s going on?” He continued to tug on her arm, making her wrist scream in protest. “Dylan?”
They turned down a dark alleyway and waited until Soap slipped in with them. There they kept their eyes on the opening and heard a loud explosion in the distance.
“What was that?” Brisa peeled her eyes at the noise, stepping closer to Shade and grabbing her other arm. “What was chasing us?” Screams filtered down from the direction they had come and the crowd just outside the alley began moving faster, some running around like a chaotic mess.
“A darkling spotted us. He must’ve set off the explosion to clear his way.” He turned toward Camulus and nodded. “The chaos probably wasn’t what he expected. Take us to the Glass Castle, quickly!” They all grabbed onto the elven-pixie and the sway of the land had just begun when, at the mouth of the alley, Shade saw the darkling, a shadow with searing white eyes. It screamed as it watched them about to disappear and catapulted toward them as they began their jaunt away. In a split second, one cold black finger grazed her arm before it disappeared from her vision and the world swirled away.
Shade’s ears rang from the darkling’s screech, and she had the sudden urge to let go of Camulus and Brisa to cover them to make the shearing noise go away. She resisted, afraid she’d end up in some weird teleporting limbo if she dared disconnect from Camulus now. She endured the pain and felt Brisa trying to tug away from her too, probably also in torturous pain. Digging her nails into her friend’s arm to keep her from letting go, she prayed for the end to come. The trip could not have ended sooner, and she found the entire bunch writhing on the floor from the darkling’s searing call.
Shade followed suit, collapsing to the ground and grabbing at her ears. Moments passed before the relentless ringing faded away, leaving them all breathing hard and sweating buckets. Shade pulled her hand away from her ear to grasp her other arm, which was now throbbing with a searing pain. Slowly opening her eyes as she breathed deeply in and out, she saw why her arm was hurting so much. A black spot where the darkling had touched her right before they had teleported away stood stark against the pale skin of her forearm. It sent spikes of pain radiating up her arm and through her elbow, across her shoulder and into her chest. She gasped, gritting her teeth from the agony.
The others were now finally getting to their feet, some still dazed from the deafening screech. Dylan held his hands on his knees, crouched down as he shook it off his senses. Noticing that Shade was still on the ground, he hurried toward her and knelt down, lifting her up into his arms. She was grabbing her left arm and shaking uncontrollably. Tears leaked from both her eyes, and her face was screwed up in pain.
“Shade?” He pulled her up to sit against him, but she could barely open her eyes to register him.
“It’s burning!” She gasped, clutching her arm against her chest, cradling it softy.
“What happened?”
“The darkling, it touched me before…before we left.” Shade tried to breathe the pain away, but it was winning and she wasn’t sure how long she would stay conscious. “What is this?”
“A darkling’s kiss.” Soap slid down to check out the wound. It was hot around the edges, but the black spot wasn’t growing. Still, Shade grunted through the torturous agony. “When a darkling marks you, it dies. In death, its touch poisons your blood slowly until all of your blood turns black and you either become a darkling or…” he cleared his throat, looking solemn. “Or, you die. It takes just a few days.”
Brisa was shifting between her feet, nervously listening to what they were telling Shade. At Soap’s statement, she huffed away and ran through the gates of the glass Castle, screaming for help. Dylan nodded toward Soap to follow her as he picked up Shade. Cradling her close to his chest, he felt her body convulsing against him. She had already lost consciousness as her body twitched and slowly went limp in his arms. His face was furrowed as his fear crept up, making him break out into a run toward the castle.
Camulus had teleported somewhere else the moment he’d seen Shade’s condition. Where the hell did he go?
“I need a healer!” Dylan called out to the guards inside the castle. One ran off down the hall while the other directed him to the infirmary. It was rarely used, but was still a necessity in such a large palace. Dylan placed her on one of the beds and waited for the healer to arrive, holding on to Shade’s now relaxed hand. He studied the dark spot on her forearm and wanted to yell out at the world for help
to save her.
How dare a darkling touch F
aerie royalty? The Unseelie Queen Aveta had surely sent them on a mission to get rid of Shade. Why hadn’t he seen it coming? He was so upset, he wanted to scream. His fingers flexed and dug into his palms as he watched the healer rush in and begin to examine her.
Shade was deathly pale and the black spot looked like it was starting to bleed, spreading across her skin slowly with webs of veiny, ink sprawling across paper. The healer was a short but thin woman with light brown hair that hit the small of her back and was as straight as arrows. Her full hazel eyes were closed as she held Shade’s hand in her grasp. She muttered a spell over Shade. A wisp of smoke puffed from the black spot and dissipated into the air. The healer opened her eye and stared at the sliver of mist as it vanished. She shook her head and resumed chanting, keeping her eyes open this time and staring intently at the spot. Another and then another wisp of smoke seeped from the spot but failed to change it. She continued on until her voice got louder and louder until she was practically screaming. She finally collapsed to her knees from the effort.
Dylan ran to her, helping her up. “What’s happening?”
The healer, whose name was Alandra, kept shaking her head in disbelief. She was now pale and diaphoretic, sweat dripped down her smooth hair and neck, clinging to her skin.
“I can’t stop it; it’s powerful darkling magic. I−I’m not strong enough.” She whispered. Her hands shook from the effort as she tried to stand up. Instead, Dylan led her to the bed next to Shade’s and gently placed her on it just as Ilarial burst into the room.
“Did it work?” Ilarial stooped over Shade a
nd touched her forehead, feeling her burning with fever and still unconscious. Her other hand slid down her arm and touched the black mark on Shade’s forearm. She pulled her finger back as if it burned and rubbed it with her other fingers. “The darkling died marking her. He must’ve wanted her dead quite badly.” She glanced up, watching as Dylan returned to Shade’s side. “Alandra is depleted. I won’t be able to stop it completely, but I can delay the poison for a few days.” Her eyes were filled with worry.
“A few days? What do you mean you can’t stop it?” Dylan furrowed his eyes and stared at the oracle, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. Turning back toward Shade, it dawned on him that she might not be saved this time. “She’s dying.”
“I’m afraid so,” Ilarial placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling his tension seep through her. Her heart was aching, like a knife was twisting violently in it.
“But she can’t die, she
−I can’t let her die.” Dylan slipped to his knees, taking Shade’s fragile, thin hand into his. She looked so vulnerable and so frail all of sudden. This couldn’t be happening; she couldn’t die. Not yet. Not when he had so much still to tell her.