A Dark Faerie Tale Series Omnibus Edition (62 page)

“Mom!” he pressed his fingers into Jade’s neck, feeling for a pulse but finding none. “Oh no, no, no!” He stood up and smashed his hands into a statue of a horse decorating the hall. It flew across the marble floor and shattered into a million tiny pieces.

Shade refused to move from the spot, only coming to when Dylan knelt down before her, embracing her softly, and rocking her in his arms. “Come on, love,” he whispered into her ear, pulling her back to the present. “Come back to me, Shade.”

Turning toward the Teleen guard, her wet, red eyes focused on his grey ones. The love in them made her suck in a breath and sent her glancing around and pulling herself together. She couldn’t fall apart. Her family needed her. How could she disappear at a time like this?

She scuffled to her feet, spinning around, still feeling like she couldn’t breathe or speak. Gulping back the knot of pain in her throat, she scanned the faces of the ones she loved, the ones that mattered.

“I have to get Kilara. This needs to end now!” She paced the floor, pondering how to contact the Summer Seelie Ancient. She’d have to do it soon; they could no longer wait for Kilara to come willingly. Shade had to wake her now.

She stopped, watching as Benton settled on the floor next to Jade, picking her up to take her to a nearby bedroom. He threw her a quick nod, telling her to do what she had to do. Brisa had finally joined them and was hugging Anna as they sat clutching each other and crying on the floor. Soap, also covered in blood and dirt, hunched down and helped them to their feet.

“I have to go, soon. Camulus, get Ilarial. I need her to induce a sleep so I can contact Kilara with my spirit guides.” Camulus bowed and immediately disappeared. Shade began pacing once more but almost lost her balance. The fatigue and blood loss was taking a toll on her, leaving her weak and dizzy. Dylan caught her before she stumbled again.

“Come on, Shade. Let’s get cleaned up and wait for Ilarial. You have to heal, or you won’t be of any use.”

She nodded as he stared intently at her and let him lead her away from her mourning family, down the hall to her room. “What about the Unseelie outside the gates?” she asked.

Nyol appeared next to her, taking her arm and pulling it around his neck so that he and Dylan were both supporting her. “They can’t enter,” he said. “Our troops have pushed them back, and most have retreated since you put on that fire show.”

She could barely walk, so letting them carry her along was mortifying, but she had no energy to fight it.

“Are you sure they can’t enter the palace?” Shade inquired. She hoped he was right. They needed to buy time to get Kilara back here before the Unseelie army breached the gates.

“Yes, I’m very sure. Ariana may have been insane, but she was extremely paranoid and efficient. She had some of the most powerful witches in the world ward the gates of the Scorching Scren Palace. Nothing can enter without permission of the queen. It would take more witches than Aveta has at her disposal. So we have time to find this Kilara you speak of.” They reached her room, and Nyol withdrew while Dylan helped her out of her filthy armor.

Leading her to the bathroom, he ran a bath for both of them and peeled the last remnants of the torn clothes clinging to their frames. He led her into the warm, soothing water and held her, letting her cry and shake in his arms until the tears ran out and she let the numbness encircle her aching head. She felt safe in his arms and hoped that the smoke clouds beyond the horizon would stay far, far away, along with Aveta’s horde.

Long after they had cleaned up and donned soft, clean clothes, Shade lay in her bed, barely noticing when Ilarial entered the room and helping her to heal and sending her into a deep, dreamless sleep. She remembered Dylan next to her, whispering sweet words to lull her into a calmer state so that when she awakened, she could do what she needed to do.

The sun set over the horizon, and Dylan pulled the curtains, enveloping the room in a cocoon of darkness. Shade finally drifted back into the sleep she very much needed.

Kilara, where are you?

Epilogue

“WE CAN’T RETREAT
now!” Aveta fidgeted on her black kelpie horse, which huffed in protest of her movements. “We’re so close now. How can you ask me to pull the army back now?” she hissed, pushing her long, black hair back, away from her face.

Arthas, the Unseelie Ancient King, snarled at her, snapping at her to shut up. As he turned back toward the scene of the battle, he grinned at the unholy soldiers retreating from the Scren Palace.

“Because you don’t understand how things must play. I’ve seen it already in my visions, and this is all we need to do for now.”

“But Shade’s in there. I have her in the palm of my hand, and you want to let her slip through my fingers, just like that?”

“She hasn’t slipped through
my
fingers. I have her just where I need her to be.”

Aveta’s confused look made him laugh, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“If you must know, dear, dear Granddaughter, I need her to find Kilara, the Summer Ancient. I want each and every one of the other Ancients to pay for what they did to me. They dared seal me in an eternal slumber against my wishes, and they think they got away with it? They don’t even know I’m awake. I won’t let them know I’m here until it’s too late. For now, let her find them for me. Once the other Ancients are awake, I can take my vengeance.”

Aveta shuddered at his determination. She wondered if awakening him had been a good decision. She’d had some satisfaction in seeing the wards of the boundaries of Faerie fall until the witches they had employed had used up all their magic and withered to death. But now the land was going up in flames, and her goal of taking over the four realms and ruling as supreme queen seemed to be slipping from her grasp.

She bit her lip as Arthas turned his horse around and galloped away, joining the retreating army. She suddenly wished she hadn’t awoken him. She wished she’d never discovered that, being a descendant of Arthas, she was able to awaken him herself after stumbling upon the spell from one of the elder faeries she’d imprisoned and tortured for the information.

Stanis had been hard to break, but he had caved in after endless hours of tortuous pain clasped in iron cuffs. He’d given up Shade’s plans and the information on how to find the Unseelie Ancient, Arthas. It had been a simple blood summoning, since Aveta was his direct descendant. She had managed to do it successfully, awakening him and bringing him to the Withering Palace, her home. Such a simple act, yet the consequences of it had altered her plans so drastically, there was no turning back now.

Or was there?

She jerked at the reins of her kelpie, urging it to follow Arthas back into the Unseelie camp. She was exhausted, but she had schemes on her mind, including how to rid herself of not only Shade but of Arthas as well.

Acknowledgements

I want to thank all the awesome readers and fans out there without whom I would not be here doing this. I love you, and know that I think of you with every word that I write.

Special thanks to the following awesomesauce peeps who make this world rock!

Jasmin Petricola, Alicia Batista, Amy Conley, Anna Dase, Lori Parker, Michael K. Rose, JT Lewis, Jacquie Talento, Terri Dion, Christina Condy, Emily Walker, Nikki Archer, Shona Lawrence, Lavinia Urban, and all my readers. Thank you for your endless support and love.

(A Dark Faerie Tale #3.5)

Awakening

A RAGGED BREATH
and the world tumbled, rushing back into his mind until darkness surrounded the entirety of the world as he blinked. Arthas scanned the nothing around him, letting his eyes roll around in the darkness, hoping he wasn’t dreaming. Flexing his fingers, he reached up, knocking them into a hardened surface surrounding him. A quick feel of the shell he now laid in sent a memory of the ones who had done this to him.

Chains clinked as he shifted. They wound around his wrists and squeezed his torso. He wondered just how long he’d been sleeping. His body ached and the chains had dug into his back deeply enough he was sure they’d left bruises. Closing his eyes, which made no difference in the blackness of the sarcophagus he’d found himself in, he smirked. Asleep, this had held him prisoner. Awake, this was nothing less than a nuisance.

Sucking in a breath, he pulled together his magic, feeling it tingle out of his chest and down to his fingertips and toes. It felt good, like stretching a cramped muscle. He paused as he gathered it into a massive energy ball before he let it blast the top of the sarcophagus, sending it flying across the room and shattering into a thousand shards of stone against the surrounding walls. Sitting up, he did the same to the chains digging into his flesh. Imbedded with trace iron, the chains burned, charring his skin where it touched past his clothes. It was a cruel and constant reminder of the intentions of his wardens. The melted apart and clattered all around him as he stretched his limbs.

He was indestructible, didn’t they know this? Kilara, Corb and Rowan should’ve known better than to leave him alive, though in deep oblivious slumber. How they had dared to imprison him for all of time made his anger boil under his skin and sent his thoughts towards vengeance.

He slipped out of the coffin-like prison he’d been sealed in and glanced around the darkened room. Eyeing another sarcophagus, he made his way toward it, noting the other two empty vesicles standing in a circle in the wide rectangular room. Streams of light made their way through slits of the roof, made of the floor of a vast, hidden forest. The magic of the land reached down and touched the boundaries of his, exploring him like tiny tentacles, curious and also cautious as it learned of his darkness.

He was the Unseelie Ancient, King of all dark things in the Land of Faerie and leader of the Sluagh armies of the underworld. He pushed away the wisps of magic that probed at him like a science experiment. Instead, he shoved the top of the occupied sarcophagus.

Rowan.

She was in the deepest of slumbers, her soft, long blonde curls fanned around her porcelain face, like a halo. Her breathing was soft and shallow, a spell held her to sleep for an eternity until awoken by another Ancient of Faerie or a descendant of her blood.

He knew well enough that she had no descendants. She was a virgin faery, never having taken a lover in all her centuries. Her only duty was to her sister, Kilara. Doing whatever that wretched Seelie Queen needed of her.

But what had it earned her? Eternal slumber, forgotten in a prison of their making. Why was Rowan still here? Would she have not ruled about this time in Faerie? Arthas suspected something had gone awry since his imprisonment, but decided it would be discovered all in good time. Replacing the top of her sarcophagus, he turned and made his way to the surrounding wall. Placing his palms against the cool, mossy stones, he whispered, “Land of Faerie, allow me exit to the open air and forest above.”

Immediately, the earth rumbled, shaking dirt loose from the dangling roots above. An opening with dirt steps leading up into a brilliant illumination filled the room. Arthas took to the steps, out of the oubliette and into a grassy clearing in the middle of a vast, thick forest. As he stepped out of the hole in the ground, the earth shook and trembled once more, sealing the entrance of the oubliette, as though it had never been there. He watched the ground heal itself, and made sure to burn it into his memory. Rowan was safely imprisoned for now. He’d save his punishment for her later. He was out for blood from Kilara and Corb first for this treachery.

Making his way through the tall, rough grasses of the clearing and entering the darkness of the forest, he felt more and more himself as his magic and darkness rushed back toward him in a violent tumult. It was a jolt he relished, relieved to be free of his grave. Alone, he headed toward his home, The Withering Palace. It was the Unseelie Kingdom where blood of his blood called to him across the earth, the same blood which had awoken him from his slumber. His descendant awaited, and he was eager to meet this long lost relative of his.

Grinning, he was ready to face the world and whatever awaited him in this unknown century.