Tiernan slid an arm around me and shifted me so that I leaned against him. “Yes. But it was worse than what actually happened. The blight twisted my memories.”
“Mine too.” I looked off toward the trees. There wasn't any hint of the blight there, but I could feel it gathering. “It's learning, Tiernan. It wasn't made to be a weapon, but it's becoming one.”
“To survive.” His gaze followed mine.
“Yeah. Ewan used to say that even a mouse will bite if you back it into a corner.”
“We need to get moving. Let me get you into the cair.” Tiernan stood up and helped me to my feet. With one arm around me, he shouted, “In the air! Now!”
I thought it was a lot to ask of the soldiers who were still recovering from the horror of the blight, but they did as commanded and rushed into their cairs. They probably knew what Tiernan did—that if we didn't get out of there soon, we'd be facing another attack. And their main defense against the blight was drained.
Tiernan settled me onto the front passenger seat and hurried around to the driver's side. As soon as our knights were in the back, Tiernan took off. He jerked the wheel toward him, pointing the nose of the cair up to take us higher than we'd been before. As the ground fell away, I leaned my head against the cool glass and tried to tamp down my fear. If it hit us again before I recovered, we'd be fucked.
There were multiple reasons why I relied heavily on Light. The air assault made me face another. Raza was right. Not that I thought I was stronger than him. I had been absolutely honest with him. Strength was more than magic. But I did think Light was nearly invincible. The magic, not me. Still, that was nearly as foolish. Light may be the strongest of Anu's gifts, but it was still a tool. And like any tool, it could break. It all depended on the user.
I had nearly been taken down by a single petal.
Perhaps this was what I needed. Coming on the heels of my talk with Raza, it seemed like fate. I'd gotten too big for my britches, as my mother used to say. Too full of my own importance and power. The Twilight Star had become Queen and then Light Bringer. World-Strider. Bringer of Darkness. So many names to puff up my pride. This knockdown was necessary. It had literally grounded me. Lesson learned: anyone could be brought to their knees.
Suddenly, victory didn't seem so assured. Maybe that was a good thing. With blinking revelation, I saw the necessity of fear. It kept you alive.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Iele village of Nebunie stood under a black veil. It was worse than Pech, and that didn't surprise me. We were moving closer to the Garden. This meant we were going in order from last to first as far as when the villages were attacked. Nebunie had fallen before Pech.
It took more effort this time to clear the blight. I stood in the frigid morning air, breath steaming, and pushed the Light before me. It was colder there than at Castle Seelie; the region aligned with Romania on Earth. But the true chill came from the sight of all that darkness, covering everything like a coating of tar. But this tar was alive. It writhed, forming vines and branches to claw the air as if seeking more victims before falling back into its sludgy self. When I sent the Light forward, it screamed in rage instead of pain.
Blasting it back, I thought of its King. Like a malevolent spirit, the entity formed by condensed foul emotions had no mercy in it. Even with his utterly black form, I could see the indifference in his eyes. It wasn't his fault. He'd been made that way. But unlike the other monsters of Fairy, I had no sympathy for him.
It struck me then that the timing of this uprising was interesting. Gardens began to slip into their slumber at this time of year. The grass was still green, and there were many trees with leaves still on their branches, but many more were bare. With blight infesting them, they gave an ambiance akin to that of a horror film. Regret didn't care about the weather. It grew bolder in the cold. Perhaps the warmth of summer had held it back. A garden that thrived in winter.
Again, these were just theories. It bothered me that all I could do was drive the blight back. The only time I'd been able to destroy it was when it sent pieces of itself into the sky. Even knowing what it was, I didn't know how it functioned or why it was suddenly starving. Tiernan and I weren't the first royals who hadn't gone through the ritual. According to Lady Mariya, the pruning hadn't been done in over a thousand years. So, why now?
The Light dimmed, and I withdrew it to reveal a charming village of rustic homes built in similar styles. Most had foundational walls of stone and mortar, while the upper floors were plaster walls framed in wood. Stained wood shingles turned the roofs into a matching palette of golden oak, and the same stain colored the picket fences around every garden. Gathered in a circle, the homes surrounded a huge, open-air pavilion. That was where we found the Iele.
I rushed through the grassy lanes with Tiernan and our soldiers at my back. They'd either been herded to the center of the village or had thought to make a stand there. Seeing the overturned tables ringing the pavilion, I decided on the latter. Jerking to a stop at the edge of the pavilion, I stared at the fairies as they slowly woke up and looked around. A sharp contrast to the Licho, the Iele were stunning. Tall, slender, and verybeautiful, they had long hair and Seelie sunlight skin. Yes, all of them. That surprised me. I thought sunlight skin only occurred in the Seelie Sidhe. Then I realized it wasn't sunlight skin but something even more beautiful. Their pale skin shimmered as if dusted with powdered gold. They were breathtaking.
And broken.
The Iele resembled the victims from Begonia with their blank stares and silence. But then they stood. Together. Startled, I backed up. They turned to look at me. As one.
“Seren,” Tiernan whispered. “Come to me.”
I didn't look away from the Iele as I backed up further until I felt Tiernan's hand on my arm.
“Fairies of Nebunie,” Tiernan called out in a deep, commanding tone. “We are your royals. Queen Seren has freed you from a blight that has taken your darker emotions.”
“And yet, they look pretty dark,” I murmured.
As Tiernan spoke, I watched the Iele. They didn't seem aggressive, just creepy. I recalled what Tiernan had told me that very morning about these fairies. Their women liked to go to Earth and dance in the forests. Humans called them Empresses of the Skies because they were so very beautiful. But here's the thing—as with most beautiful fairies, the Iele were deadly. They went out and danced, communing with nature like a bunch of hippies, but they didn't like being watched—a bit of entrapment if you ask me. Why go into a human forest and dance if you don't want the humans to watch you? But whatever. If they caught a human watching them, they might turn them mad or even kill them. They were known to be capricious, and anyone who disrespected them or the forest felt their wrath.
They must have had a lot of wrath to be left so empty.
Or maybe they didn't. I thought of the Licho and their joy. Then the victims of Begonia. The Iele were like the former. But what did that mean? The Licho had been nearly consumed with their dark emotions, so why weren't they left acting as if they'd been lobotomized? Both the Anthousai and the Iele were known to revel in their happiness, and yet, freed of their darker feelings, they grew somber. It made no sense.
“Your Majesties, thank you for coming to our aid.” An Iele man stepped forward and bowed, his long, unbound, red hair streaming forward. “We tried to fight the black tide, banding together here to empower a ward. But the darkness seeped through our magic.” He glanced at the soldiers behind us. “How did you defeat it? What was it?”
His people drew closer until they were one mass, all staring at us. It reminded me of the way the blight retracted into itself. Creepy.
