Page 134 of Owned By the Fae
‘Returned? No. But it is believed that when the Harbingers were no longer needed, they went voluntarily to a sacred place in the Dark Realms to ... die, I suppose. Varrik must have found the one you have there.’
‘Why the Dark Realms?’
Isbeth sits on one of the low seats by the wall. ‘Before the Underhill, the Light Realm and the Dark ones were home to the fae and the humans. They lived side by side with the Dark Realm races. The Harbingers weren't only to help the Fae. They were for the humans as well, for Gaila the First is the patron goddess of both. However, the fae began to be persecuted, and the Underhill was created as a safe haven for us. After that, the Harbingers decided that we were more in need of their protection, so they stayed here with us, taking on fae forms. When they were no longer needed, they went back to the Dark Realms to a sacred place that has been lost to us now.’
‘But Varrik found it.’
Isbeth nods. ‘It appears so. The Black Lake was meant to be the resting place of the best of us. He likely stumbled upon it, and he took from it to make his Skilled. He must have. There’s nowhere else he could have found such power.’
‘What if he’s not dead?’ I ask, giving voice to my biggest fear.
Isbeth’s eyes find mine. ‘Then we kill him.’
‘But he’s your brother,’ I argue.
She shakes her head. ‘He stopped being my brother the moment he betrayed us. Despite his purposes once being altruistic, his ideas have been twisted with time ... and his banishment, I suppose. He's not the brother I remember.’
‘He's changed himself with the Dark Realms,’ I mutter. ‘He might be too strong for any of us to kill ... if he wasn't crushed to death in the keep.’
‘You’re an intelligent girl,’ Isbeth states. ‘Do you really think he could have perished there?’
‘No,’ I whisper.
She gives me a pointed look. ‘Then remain on your guard, Harbinger. It is your purpose, after all. And what a taxing one it is. You may return here anytime you wish. Now, come. It’s almost time to open the second Breach and hopefully welcome some of my brethren to their new home.’
We leave the cave and go back up into the village. The walk doesn’t take long, but we pick up our pace to get back to the camp in time for the Harbinger to open the Breach again at the time we agreed.
I feel an odd sensation, a niggling feeling that I'm being watched, but I suppose Iambeing watched. The eyes of all the fae we encounter follow me. All of them seem curious about this creature from their lore.
‘Once you've opened the bridge,’ Isbeth says, drawing me from my thoughts, ‘duck into the nearest tent so they don't see you.’
I nod. ‘Is it time?’
‘Yes.’
As soon as we arrive in the designated area, the Harbinger rises, and I hear the whooshing noise as the bridge appears. I move quickly into the tent, hiding behind the flap so I can justsee who's coming out. It's a few seconds before anyone comes through and I wait with bated breath.
Have the others been able to find Jak? Has he helped them? Have they been able to convince the Skilled to come willingly? Are my fae males safe?
I watch a female come through, holding the hand of Ryon. My relief takes me by surprise, and I double over with it. I watch as Isbeth herself steps forward and kneels down to speak to the faeling as another fae female begins to explain things to the increasingly alarmed-looking Skilled.
Behind her, two by two, they begin to enter the Underhill.
I keep the Breach open as long as I possibly can. The number of travelers begins to dwindle, and the last to come through must say so to Isbeth because she nods toward me. I close the Breach, sitting down hard on the ground abruptly.
‘Are you all right?’ I ask the Harbinger as I feel its fatigue settling through me.
‘Just not used to it,’ it says.‘Let me rest for now. I’ll still be able to open it again when it’s time.’
I look out of the tent, staying out of sight. There are probably a hundred and fifty to two hundred Skilled. They’re milling around, looking at their surroundings with wide eyes, but they seem mostly calm. The guards are close by, but none have weapons so as not to incite a panic. The five Council members and a few others are explaining where they are, and that they’re safe. Others are handing out information about the Underhill and the fae society that none of them knew existed until moments ago.
I notice that none of the Underhill residents mention Varrik unless specifically asked. If they are, they’re intentionally vague, as many of the Skilled still regard Varrik as something close to a god.
A few openly weep. Others look shocked, nodding absently as Isbeth and the rest of the Council show them around and allocate tents for the night. There are tables of refreshments, but no one partakes. They look at the food and drink with open suspicion until the guards and the Council eat and drink in front of them.
I notice that there are no keep guards here yet. Tristian and Meryl, the last two of Varrik’s elites, are also absent.
A few minutes later, Isbeth ducks into my tent. She frowns in concern when she sees me on the ground.
