Page 69 of Fairies Never Fall

“Look out!” she hisses.

Two shadowy figures peel away from the rocks as smaller explosions go off like fireworks, making my vision sparkle. I can barely make out the figures, but they seem to be wheeling back and forth between the blasts, jerky and uncoordinated, like confused puppets. What Icansee are honest-to-god medieval style robes, complete with a weird symbol embroidered in the middle of the chest. I guess that’s thecultpart ofundead cult.

Much more creepy is the way they move. And the fact that when the explosions die down, they suddenly regroup and put on a burst of speed, coming right at us. I hardly catch a glimpse of their wizened faces, which look like they’re melting and reforming in front of my eyes, before the two azeroths fly up the bank and Lysander steps in front of me.

“No!”

26

LYSANDER

Not Ezra!

My wings snap open. Sizzling energy roars to life in my blood, pure protective fury, and the two azeroths hesitate.

“Don’t touch him!”

I’m shaking, wings slamming hard enough to spin up dust, my hands curled into fists. A ripping noise tears through the air and a guttural hiss surrounds us — it’s coming from me. Ezra makes a choked noise behind me. The azeroths waver. Even the two riiga step back. I catch sight of my own hands and see my nails lengthening into claws, wicked spikes bursting like thorns from my knuckles, and understanding dawns.

It’s my ur-form.

There’s no time to process what’s happening. The nearest azeroth bursts out of its trance and rushes at me. In a daze, I see my own body recoil from the danger like a coward, as if I’m outside myself. The azeroth staggers past me in a jerking mockery of a run. Something flashes in the corner of my eye. Ezra’s boots grind the gravel. In his hand is a knife — a plain, mundane, human blade. Heart in my mouth, I spin, no thought to what I might do, only the fierce desire to protect him.

A brilliant blue light streaks past me. The azeroth releases a guttural howl and is thrown backward onto the rocks. The streak resolves into a spear that pins the creature to the ground. I choke on my own breath, tripping backward as my lungs deflate to pinpricks and my heart gallops.

The azeroth’s hideous face twists and melts and reforms in a patchwork of all the monsters whose magic it’s stolen. Thin, reedy cries burst from it as it writhes. The second azeroth flees into the dusk.

Hands grasp my arms, and I jerk. Ezra’s knife clatters to the ground.

“Are you okay?” he asks roughly.

I tear my eyes away from the azeroth’s death throes to meet Ezra’s piercing gaze. There’s confusion and fear in his eyes. “What’s going on, Lysander?”

“I—I—” I can’t form the words.

“Ann!” Daphne gasps.

The youngest riiga, Belle, breaks away and rushes to her newly arrived sister. Ann is tall and thin, wearing a severe black turtleneck and skirt and carrying a second spear strapped to her back. She grabs her sister and yanks her close protectively.

My legs shake with adrenaline. Ezra’s firm arms are all that’s holding me upright, until I remember I’m covered in thorny protrusions and I look down at him in a panic.

I’m taller than him now.

“S-spikes,” I hiss.

Ezra grips me tighter. “It’s fine, baby,” he growls.

“Fairy. You must return to the shadow dryad’s territory,” Ann says sharply, her eyes snapping to us.

“You saved us,” I try to say, but the words come out dark and threatening, not grateful at all. Everything is muddled — my heart thumps unevenly, my thoughts are foggy.

My body wants to attack, to rip and kill and eliminate the threat to what’s mine. But I failed. I shied away from it. I couldn’t protect — instead Ezra was the one protectingme, and my fury swirls uselessly.

“You’re lucky I was here. Now go, before they come back! The sun is setting.”

I gather the dregs of my wits as Ann strides forward. “Did you s-see her? Elsabeth. My sister.”

“I saw her. I will see her again.” She yanks the spear free of the azeroth’s now desiccated corpse. It crumbles into a pile of dark, dry matter, and she wipes the tip with a cloth that she folds carefully and tucks away. Her hands glisten with a mystery substance. “I will make her a special brew. One that can kill the azeroths just like this.”

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