Page 44 of Shadows of Air and Earth
“A Faerie large earthquake.”
Remnant giggled and then hummed, nodding with mock solemnity, “A Faerie misfortune indeed.”
I blew out a long sigh. My hair fluttered outwards from my face as I dipped away from their warm embrace, and horrendous humor.
“Oh yes, one might even say they were Faerie functional dynamite.” Riley burst out laughing and Remnant joined him, her laughter echoing across the canyon both beautiful and haunting.
Turning I regarded them both, clutching their sides, snorting and howling way too hard for such terrible jokes before wiping tears from their own eyes and then starting anew the moment they caught each other's gazes.
My lips pulled into a small smile, seeing the love and loyalty of true friendship between them. After all, Ri did see in her early on what I could not, refused to see—she was one of us.
“Ri, I got it, I got it!” the general gasped between laughs, elbowing him in her excitement. “It was a fae-eruption of epic proportions!”
My brows rose in disbelief, their roaring amusement almost as loud as the explosion only moments ago. High fiving each other multiple times and stomping their feet in fits of hilarity, their snorts and giggles continued.
I crossed my arms with mock sternness while my lips trembled, attempting to hold back my own chortling, they were ridiculous, “You two jesters just about done? I thought you all were on the brink of starvation?”
Their laughter cut short.
“Food yes, we need food,” Riley whined, dramatically, clutching his stomach, his eyes wide as if he were suffering a great pain.
Remnant’s stomach growled loudly on cue, adding to Riley’s hungered agony—a fierce, low growling sound…just like a shifter.
This time, it was my turn to laugh.
Chapter 30
Our laughter died withthe winds. Solemn and quiet, we hiked back through the treacherous grounds of the canyon, coming to a halt at its edge to peer out across the wide abyss where the city of Lacail still stood. Perched perfectly on anisland of stone it would be inaccessible for any fae unless they could fly and even then, they would be entering a tomb.
Another permanent mark upon my soul carved next to so many others. Each one representing my failures and the bitter guilt superseding them. I yearned to return Faerie to her former glory—a time that was not scarred by death and war. A time when we lived as one with the lands, the beasts, the skies, and occasionally played when boredom took us to the human world.
But that dream was slipping away like the dust still falling from the sky, and yet each morning, when my eyes greeted a new day, I locked away my fear of failure to start my task again. The coming of daylight forever mocking—never bringing me the warmth and peace I so desperately ached for.
My eyes narrowed at the lone chickadee, flapping furiously away from the eerie city, the soft ring of the bell tower resonating its haunting summons across the great expanse.
Sadly, there was no saving the fae there. Although we had found triumph, innocent lives still paid the price.
“Xi?” My voice was strong…steady. My sadness and self-sabotaging thoughts forcibly locked away now, enclosed in a vault, deep within my heart, where no fae could ever find it.
“Yes, General?” Xi replied, her tone solemn while her eyes traced the profile of my face. I dared not look at her, for if I did, she would see within the monster that was needed to make hard decisions—and my monster was not for the world to see. For once unleashed…it would surely be the end of all fae.
“Bury it.” Emotionless, this was the price of playing in the shadows—of being born to darkness where death always resided.
The collar around Xi’s neck glowed brightly in my periphery, Riley’s voice breaking as he fed her the power she needed to eliminate this town forever from the plains. “Take what you need, my terrella,” he encouraged Xi, who sighed heavily.
Not tearing my eyes away, even while the earth shook and great sheets of stone crumbled from the cliff’s edge, I watched as Lacail split from its great pillared island. Gently, Xi commanded the entirety of the city to float within the cobalt sky of Faerie. The sun now setting low, the daylight moved onward to coalesce with the night as it always did—unfailingly so—except this time it seemed to slow, mourning for the fae that died here. Together both sun and Lacail submitted to the darkness, though one would rise again, and the other would stay—respectfully buried deep within the grave of the canyon's abyss.
Above me, the soft sound of a downward stroke from a snowy owl, swooped up into the moonlight, as if it were tasked to carry the souls lost here to the promised gates of Sheol.
Full. We were full.
Having traveled through the night, bedraggled and tortured by Xi’s tales of the epic sweets that awaited us at the Pastry Plains, the three of us stumbled into the quaint bakery. Half starved for pastries, still covered in carnage and grime, we gave one Sheol of a shock to the poor fae behind the counter and scared half the customers away.
When the owner, Bess, recovered, we were met with the ire of a mother hen. Pecking and shooing us off, she demanded we clean up before we even thought about tarnishing her good name, and her food with such utter disrespect ever again.
Driven by the mouthwatering smell of her baking and borderline fear of the baker herself, we sat refreshed and clean with three cups of steaming hot tea in front of us. A tray, where two dozen custard tarts once sat, was now shoved to the side, not even a crumb to be found on its reflective silver platter. Xi had been right, they were the best tarts I had ever tasted, and even full to the brim, I still craved more.
But my hunger receded when I nodded subtly to the shadows. It was time. “You have fulfilled your end of our bargain,” I began, the shadows oozing across the table between us, “and now it is time to fulfill mine.”
