Awake (8 page)

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Authors: Riana Lucas

BOOK: Awake
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The queen nods. “Time will tell.”

We are both quiet for a moment, but I cannot stand the silence. “So…” I begin, hoping to prompt her into something a bit more serious.

“I wanted to thank you, Poppy.” I raise my eyebrows in question, and she elaborates. “It takes a strong person to stand down when they are near their enemies. I know you don't care for Holly, but I do, and I appreciate you allowing her to dine with us this evening.”

“Well, thank you, but it was not I who gave her permission. You did.” I hesitate before continuing, wondering if it is my business, but the queen's words help me in my decision.

“Don't be shy, child. Ask me what is on your mind.”

“Why does she hate me so much? You approve of my being here. Should that not be enough for her as well?”

“Yes. It should, but I am afraid my approval of you is the problem. She doesn't trust you and therefore doesn't like my involvement with you. It will take her time, but she will come to trust you as well.”

“You trust me? Is that wise? I am from the enemy court.”

“Yes, but that's of no consequence to me. I trust you, Poppy.”

“Why?”

She opens her mouth, but thinks better of it and closes her lips again. I begin to speak, hoping I can get her to continue, but before I can say anything she cuts me off. “I know this is confusing for you, but I give you my word. I will explain everything to you in the morning. Now is not the time or the place.” She gives me a kind smile as she continues, “Besides, I am exhausted and need my beauty sleep. I will see you in the morning, Poppy.” She reaches out, her hand gently brushing my hair back. “Sweet dreams, my child,” she whispers before turning quickly and moving into the room behind us. Before I can respond, the door is closed, and I find myself alone in the hall, staring at her door and more confused than before about why I am here and what it is exactly that the queen wants with me.

Chapter Eight

Darkness surrounds me as I make my way down the corridor. My surroundings are familiar, but I am not quite sure where I am yet, or how I came to be here, for that matter. I follow my instincts, making turns, unsure of where they will lead me. For some reason, I am familiar with the path I should take, and even if I am unsure of my final destination, I have an overpowering need to get there.

I begin to walk more and more quickly until I soon find myself running. First I turn right, then left. This happens so many times I soon lose track. Although it is still dark, the smell is growing stronger, more familiar, like the dungeons in the unseelie court. So that is where I am and why everything seems so familiar. I have escorted prisoners here often enough to know the way by heart.

What am I doing here now? I am alone, and there is no reason to even be here. However, the urge to keep going grows along with my anxiety. Then I hear it—the sound that must have drawn me here in the first place.

“Poppy?”

I stop running so I can listen for a moment to ensure my ears are not playing tricks on me.

“Poppy? Where are you?”

“Reed?” I whisper in disbelief. Where is he, and how am I hearing him?

“Poppy, we need you. Please hurry.”

“Reed!” This time I shout. I begin running once again in the direction of his voice. “Where are you?”

“Poppy! Is it really you? We're here!”

“Where, Reed? I cannot see you. The room is much too dark. Why are you in the dungeon?”

“I don't know. We were put here as soon as I arrived in the faery realm. We need your help.”

“Who? Who is with you?” I am still running, but I cannot find him. His voice does not get any closer. Instead, it surrounds me. I cannot tell which direction the noise is coming from, giving me the impression of running in circles. Nothing makes sense. I am aware I am in the unseelie dungeon, but I do not recall it being this large.

“Rho. Rho is in here with me.”

This stops me once again. “Rho? Why?”

“I'm not sure, Poppy, but you must help us. Hurry! Please?"

“I am coming, Reed. I cannot seem to get to you.” Picking up speed, I continue to run in what I hope is the right direction.

Reed's voice begins to fade now as he says “Please, Poppy. Please hurry. I need you.”

I barely hear the last part as his voice fades further. I begin shouting for him, “Reed! Reed! Reed, answer me. I cannot find you if you do not answer me! Reed!” I wail when I know he is not going to respond.

My heart clenches; my stomach drops, and I run as fast as I can now. Sweat drips down my back and all over my face, but I cannot give up. He and Rho are in trouble, and they are depending on me to find and help them. I will not give up until they are safe.

I bolt up in my bed, breathing heavily, heart pounding, and drenched in sweat. This is something I am becoming accustomed to since I have woken up the last few mornings in the seelie court.

Except this time, I remember my entire dream. Reed and Rho need me.

I realize it was a dream, but there was something so real about the voices and the fear within them. My instincts are screaming at me to get to them as soon as possible. Having never doubted my instincts before, I do not intend to start now. In a hurry, I throw the blanket off my heated body and stumble to the washroom. I rinse the sweat from my face and neck and place my hair in its usual braid before rushing to the closet to grab my satchel. Quickly throwing a change of clothes in, I pull on a similar outfit — just like the one I wore the day I met Reed.

I stop for a moment to remember the day that led to this one. Rho was concerned for me because of the rumors of the queen overpowering our court, but I brushed it off. I met Reed and disregarded him as no more than a stupid halfling. It is amazing how important these two have become to me and how I treated them in return. I shake my head at the thought. I need to focus on the task at hand. When I get to them and reassure myself they are safe, I will apologize for my behavior and make everything up to them. I am not sure what I will do if things do not work out the way I plan. It is not something I am even willing to consider.

Grabbing my daggers, I grip them firmly before strapping them to my thighs. Once they are in place, I feel more confident. I lift my chin then straighten my back and take a deep breath. Throwing my satchel over my shoulder, I swing open the door, intending to rush out, but run straight into Willow instead.

Her eyes widen with alarm. “Poppy? Are you okay?”

“I have to go. Reed and Rho need me.”

“How…how can you be sure? What happened?” she asks, baffled by my behavior.

“I…” I hesitate, realizing I am so frantic over a dream, a dream that although I am sure is true, others will not so easily believe when I tell them. I do not care, though. My friends need me, and I will not be deterred. I lift my chin defiantly. “I dreamt of them, well, of Reed. He said he and Rho were in trouble and they need me. I must go find them.”

Willow stares into my eyes for a moment as if trying to make sure I have not gone mad. She must see the clarity and determination in them, though, because she nods curtly before turning around. “I'll meet you in the dining hall. You must let the queen know where we're going. I'll only be a moment.”

Before I have a chance to correct her on the
we
she used, she is gone. I will handle that in a moment, because she is right; I
must
speak to the queen. With everything that happened, I had forgotten about our meeting this morning. At least I know where I can find her fast.

Walking with purpose to the queen's private dining room and not wishing to waste time, I think of how I will explain this to her. Unfortunately, it only takes a moment to get to her chambers and, by the time I arrive, I am still unsure of what to say to convince her to let me go. I raise my hand to knock but hesitate. As if sensing my presence, the queen opens the door. She takes one look at me, and I instantly see her body going rigid and her eye
s
becoming more alert. How does she detect when something is wrong?

Her brow crinkles as she asks, “Poppy, what's wrong?”

“I am sorry, Queen Lily, but I must return to the unseelie court at once.”

“Why, my child? What's happened?”

“My friends are in trouble.”

An expression of genuine concern enters her eyes, but I do not have time to question her. “Have you received a message?”

“No.” I hesitate once again but decide to be honest. “No. I dreamt of them. Reed asked me for my help.”

“Your halfling?” she asks with a bit of shock in her voice, her eyes widening as well.

“He is not my halfling, but yes, Reed is the halfling I was to bring back from the human world to the unseelie court. When I came here, Damien took Reed home. Now I suspect he and Rho are in trouble.” She stares at me for a moment in disbelief. I am sure the look of shock and uncertainty has something to do with my loyalty to a
halfling,
but there is no time for anger. “I apologize, but I must leave immediately.”

The queen shakes her head as she says with a hint of pleading in her voice, “No, Poppy. You cannot go. Returning to the unseelie court is much too dangerous. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you.”

I was about to cut her off, telling her she did not have a choice, but I snap my mouth shut when the rest of her sentence registers. “Why would you care if something happened to me?”

Taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly, she says, “Please, come and sit with me.” There is an objection on the tip of my tongue, but she holds up her hand to stop my rebuttal. “Please? I can tell you want to leave now, but I need to speak with you first. Once we have spoken, you may decide what you wish to do, and I will consent. Is that fair?”

The desperation in her eyes overrules my anxiousness to be on my way. “Yes, that is fair. I mean no disrespect, but this must be quick, and I am afraid nothing you can say will persuade me to abandon my friends.”

Once I give her my warning, I begin to walk stiffly past her but stop in my tracks when I hear a loud huff. Glancing up, I am a bit startled to see Holly sitting at the table. Apparently I had been so distracted I did not even notice her presence. Glancing at her now, I see she appears to be pouting. In a different situation, I might have laughed at the childishness of it, but not now.

I am pulled from my thoughts when the queen pulls out a chair, gracefully sitting at the head of the table. Her hand flutters in the air and, on her command, all of the servants leave the room. Willow—who had suddenly appeared at my side at some point during my conversation with the queen—turns to leave as well but I put my hand on her arm to stop her. Right now I need an ally.

“Please stay?” I ask, my voice soft. Holly starts to object, but I speak over her, loudly enough for her and the queen to catch my words
, even though I am
addressing Willow. “If Holly is permitted to stay, then you are as well.”

A quick nod from the queen signals her approval. Willow gives me a quick smile before both of us make our way over to the dining table, joining the queen and Holly.

By the time I am seated, the room is empty except for the four of us. Now I turn, giving my full attention to the queen. She looks nervous, and this makes me nervous. Before I can question her, Willow moves her hand to grasp mine under the table, which does not help my nerves in the least. I always suspected she knew more than she said, but now I know she is well aware of what I am about to hear. The fact she thinks I will need comfort makes my stomach roll.

Now with Willow's hand gripping mine tight, I wait. The queen takes a deep breath, opens her mouth, and closes her lips once again. She glances at Holly, who has her arms crossed over her chest, insolently staring down at the table. Her normal scowl is gone though, replaced by a sad frown and her body has lost its usual rigidness and is now in what I can only describe as a defeated slouch. The concern in the queen's eyes is apparent, but once again she moves her gaze to me and the expression changes. Her eyes now sparkle with pride and joy.

After another deep breath, she straightens her shoulders and clears her throat. “I have a story to tell you, Poppy. I recognize you are in a hurry, but I assure you, once I'm finished with my story, everything will be clear to you. You will understand my actions and my concern. You'll be able to make a final decision on what you wish to do, not only for today, but for your future. I ask that you listen to the entire story, saving your questions for the end.”

The seriousness in her voice along with the fear in her eyes keeps me mute. I am only able to stare at her as I nod. Clenching Willow's hand even tighter, I try to relax my shaking limbs as I brace myself for what I am about to hear.

“Thank you,” she whispers so softly I barely make out the fear in her voice before she clears her throat one final time. She lays her clasped hands on the table in front of her then begins. “This story started about nineteen years ago. I understand most fae don't understand the concept of time, but the events were so tragic for me. I have counted the days since. At the time, the unending feud between the unseelie and seelie courts existed. When this began and for how long the dispute has been going on is completely lost to me, but the war has always been and will always be.” She lifts her hand as if to brush the thought aside and continues, “My court was secure. I had the best-trained warriors I could have asked for. My warriors were led by a very strong and wise fae. My second-in-command was a fae by the name of Damien.”

My heart rate speeds up at the mention of Damien's name. The name is common enough and it might be a coincidence that it was the name of the queen's second, like the Damien I know is the second to the unseelie king. But my instincts are screaming at me once again. Something is going on here far beyond things in common and coincidences, something I am not going to like.

“Damien had been with me for so many years, years I couldn't even count. One of my servants rescued him long ago when they found him in the faery forest between the two courts, wandering aimlessly. He did not have much strength or any memory of where he came from. It seemed as if a spell had been cast upon him. My servant returned with him to court, and we took care of him. After a few years, he proved his loyalty along with unbelievable strength. Then he began to train as a warrior, working his way through the ranks. Eventually, I made him my second, as he had proven many times he would give his life for mine. He was the best second-in-command I ever had.”

As she spoke, her voice had begun to quiver, and now her eyes close for a split second at the memory. The pain she feels is apparent, but it surprises me when tears begin to slip past her closed eyelids as she continues, “One night, I retired to my room early. I had felt faint all day and experienced minor dizzy spells. Damien suggested I go to bed, reassuring me he would put the rest of the evening's work into order. Trusting him, I bid everyone goodnight before retiring to my room. I remember lying down…then nothing.”

She shakes her head before opening her eyes once again and peering up at me. “When I awoke again, Damien was leaning over me checking my vitals. I tried to speak to him, but I was not able to open my mouth. I tried to move my arms, legs,
anything
, but to no avail. My body remained paralyzed. I could see, but even that stayed a bit fuzzy. My mind worked slowly, but I soon realized I was under a spell. I watched Damien helplessly, thankful he was present to help me. Once he finished checking me out, he made eye contact with me. It was then I understood that he was not around to help me at all. The air of hatred coming from him took my breath away. He looked like a completely different fae. Frantically, I tried to look around, hoping for some sort of help. Because of the spell I could not grasp much, but I was able to tell we were not alone. Not only was my chamber filled with unseelie fae, but behind Damien stood none other than the unseelie king himself. My eyes widened in horror as a scream built up inside of me but could not escape. Then the king stepped forward, smiling evilly down at me…” She shudders at the memory.

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