Call to Arms (War of the Fae: Book 2) (26 page)

I rested my hand on the end of Blackie, making sure Gregale saw me do it.
 
“Listen you crazy elf, you have five seconds to start explaining to me what the hell you’re talking about before I get super pissed.
 
I’m tired and I’m hungry and that is a bad combination.
 
I get seriously
cranky
when I’m tired and hungry.”

Gregale held up his hands in supplication.
 
“Okay, okay, no need to get upset.
 
It is a bit early for lunch, but we can stop for now.
 
What do you say we take our lunch break now and then we can come back after lunch and I will explain everything to you?
 
Is that acceptable to you?”

I pulled my hand away from my stick, folding my arms across my chest.
 
“Fine.”

“Good.
 
Come ... follow me.”
 
He started walking back in the direction we had come hours previously.
 
“You know, this day went a lot differently than I had expected.”

I smiled to myself.
 
“Yeah, me too.
 
I’m glad to find out you weren’t planning to kill me and my friends.”

Gregale laughed.
 
“We would never waste resources like that.”

Great.
 
I’m a resource.
 
Somehow that didn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but something told me it was a compliment when coming from a gray elf.

We arrived at the lunchroom and my friends were already there.
 
I rushed to get my lunch so we could talk about our days so far.

I sat down with my plate and Becky was the first to ask me, “So, what was he like?
 
Dish, baby, dish.”

I shoved food in my mouth and tried to talk around it.
 
I saw Becky cringe, so I knew it wasn’t pretty, but I was anxious to check my email before I went out again.
 
“He’s cool.
 
I misunderstood him.
 
He’s a gray elf.
 
They are the war strategy makers.
 
He’s giving me a fae education.
 
I’ll have to tell you about it later.
 
I need to go check my email.”

We all agreed to regroup later at dinner.
 
I rushed from the dining hall to go to the computer room.
 
Once there I logged on and opened my email account.
 
There were no new messages.
 

I couldn’t believe it.
 
Tony was blowing me off.
 
I tried not to think about the idea of psychological warfare, because if I considered that it was in fact happening to me, then I knew my best friend was stuck in the middle of the Dark versus the Light and could very well become collateral damage, even though he had specifically chosen to stay out of it.

I was back out in the butterfly clearing with Gregale and we were both sitting.
 
He told me it was kind of a long story, this tale of the Dark of Blackthorn, so I figured I should get comfortable.

“The Blackthorns are a long line of fae that come from the area known as Blackthorn.
 
It is in Ireland, in your world, I believe.
 
They are all Dark Fae, which makes it very interesting that you are here with us.
 
I promise you, the gray elves will be discussing this long into the coming nights.”

I gave him a stern look that meant ‘get back on track’ and he understood me perfectly.

“Oh yes, so where was I?
 
Right, the Blackthorn.
 
That area of our world is called Blackthorn because there is an abundance of these trees there, Blackthorns.
 
They have a particularly dark wood and very nasty thorns.
 
Actually, some call them shrubs or bushes because they can grow in all forms.
 
This tree or bush and its wood and thorns are said to have magical properties, even by the humans who live there.”

I pulled my stick out and looked at it.
 
“So this is a thorn from a big tree?”

Gregale laughed.
 
“No, no, no, that is not a thorn from a tree.
 
Have you ever seen a thorn that big before?”

“No.
 
But maybe it’s some sort of magic tree.
 
You said it was.”

“Well, it has magical properties, yes, but it looks like a regular old tree or bush.
 
Much like all the trees around here look.”

“But none of the trees here are like the trees back home.
 
Here they have energy and they speak to me.”

“Your trees in Florida are exactly the same as the trees here.
 
Same energy, same connection.
 
They are all connected, all over planet Earth.
 
One big, giant network of Green Energy.”

“I was never able to talk to trees before.”

Gregale pointed to my ring.
 
“You never wore the amulet of the Blackthorn before.”

“Yeah, but I was able to do it in the Green Forest before I had the amulet.”

“Being in the Green Forest helped you tap into your fae blood while you were there.
 
Going through the change now makes it possible for you to do it anywhere.”

I looked down at the crystal ring I had kind of forgotten.
 
“This is the amulet of the Blackthorn?
 
How come Dardennes had it?
 
I thought the Blackthorn were always Dark Fae.
 
Doesn’t that mean they would have it?”

“You were right.
 
You are a fast learner.”

I smiled at his hard-won compliment.

“I do not have answers to all of your questions, unfortunately.
 
How Dardennes came into its possession is a mystery to me.
 
Perhaps you can ask him and get a straight answer.
 
I doubt that I could – get a straight answer, that is.”

“So if my stick isn’t a thorn, what is it then?
 
Part of a Blackthorn tree all whittled down?”

“No, not at all.
 
To explain what you hold in your hand – a thing I wish you would stop waving around so carelessly like that – I must tell you about some ancient fae.”
 

He moved just a few inches farther away from me, since I didn’t respond to his request to put Blackie down.
 
I liked holding it in my hand though; but to help him feel less nervous, I did stop waving it in front of him.

“You have met many different fae here, of many different races – elves, ogres, werewolves, dwarves, sprites, etcetera.
 
However, there are many more fae you have not yet met, and then other fae you will never meet.”

“Why, because they’re shy or something?
 
Or because you’ve banished them to colonies because they’re too happy.”

Gregale frowned at me.
 
“No.
 
Not because we have banished them.
 
Yes, some are shy.
 
But several others are extinct.
 
Their numbers dwindled and then either because of a disease or, more likely, fae interference, they disappeared from the Earth entirely.”

“That’s sad.
 
So what has that got to do with my stick?”

“Well, you see, your ‘stick’ is not a stick.
 
Your weapon is a remnant of a long extinct fae race.”

I held my stick that was not a stick out in front of me, a look of disgust on my face.
 
“A remnant?
 
As in a bone or something?”

“No.
 
As in a
tooth
.
 
To be more precise, a
fang
.”

“This?
 
Is a fucking
fang?
  
No way.
 
Not possible.
 
It’s a stupid stick.
 
Look!”

I thrust it towards him in the palm of my hand.
 
He nearly did a back flip getting away from it.

“You do that one more time, and I will refuse to help you
ever again!”
 
His face was flushed bright red, and sweat droplets had broken out across his forehead.

I pulled the stick back to me, holding it up close to my face, getting a better look at it.

“And I know the Dark does not affect you like it does other fae, but you are making me
very
nervous, holding it that close to your face.”

“What?
 
Like this?” I asked, as I brushed it up and down my cheek.

“
Blessed Mother Earth, Moon and Sky
, would you
please
put that thing down!”

I smiled.
 
“Did you just swear at me?”

Gregale shifted uncomfortably.
 
“I might have.
 
But you forced me into it.”

“Seriously Gregale, what is the big deal with this thing?
 
And don’t try to tell me it’s some big friggin’ ogre tooth or I’m going to hit you with it.”

“Do not be silly.
 
It is not an ogre tooth.
 
Ogres are not nearly big enough to have incisors that big.”

“Then what kind of tooth is it?”

“It is the tooth of The Dark.”

“The Dark being its name, right?”
 
I was finally catching on to his manner of speaking.

“Yes.”

“And The Dark was what race?”

“The Dark was a Dark Fae dragon.
 
And you are holding his tooth.
 
A tooth that was taken from him by the fae who slayed him over one thousand years ago –
Shayla
Blackthorn.”

I looked at Gregale incredulously.
 
“No fucking way!
 
It is
not!”
 
How cool is that? – I have a dragon tooth weapon!
 
And it had been the last weapon left on Niles’ table.
 
I guess I lucked out.

“Yes.
 
It is.
 
Any fae can recognize that weapon instantly.
 
There is no other like it.
 
Except for another tooth of course.
 
Every dragon had two fangs, of course.
 
One on each side, on the top part of its mouth.
 
I know that yours belonged to The Dark because it is black.
 
He was the only dragon with black teeth.”

“The orcs didn’t recognize it when they captured me in the Green Forest during the test.”

“Orcs are not the smartest or most observant of beasts on their best days.
 
And if the stories are true, those orcs were awakened after a very long period of ... er ... forced hibernation.
 
So it is understandable they would not notice it.”

I held it up to my face so I could see it better.
 
I tapped my fingernails against it.
 
Now that I knew it was a tooth, I was able to admit it wasn’t like normal wood.
 
It was harder.
 
And blacker.
 
I wondered if the black was its normal color, or if it was covered in dragon plaque.
 
The idea of this being a dragon tooth probably should have bothered me more, or freaked me out a little at least, but I’d pretty much decided that anything was possible in this fae world.
 
If some fae came walking up to me and told me he could make monkeys fly out of his butt, I’d probably just nod my head and say, ‘Cool.’
 
And I wouldn’t doubt him for a second.
 
Of course, then I’d ask for a demonstration because who could resist seeing a butt monkey?
 
Not me.

“Gregale, I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that nothing fazes me anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you just told me I come from a line of Dark Fae bad guys, that I’m holding a friggin’ dragon tooth in my hand from some evil dragon that one of my badass ancestors slayed, and I’m sitting here, not freaking out at all.
 
I’m actually excited about using it again.”

“That would be your Dark Fae blood probably.”

“Hey!
 
What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged.
 
“The Dark Fae
are
very straightforward beings.
 
They see things in black and white.
 
I think they would call themselves realists.
 
You have seen many things these past few days that before you might have considered fantasy or impossibility.
 
At some point your mind would begin to realize all of your preconceived notions about the world are suspect.
 
A Dark Fae would then make the conclusion that
all
preconceived notions are suspect.
 
It is their easy adaptability that makes them a very formidable enemy.”