Aerisian Refrain, page 40
part #1 of Beyond the Sunset Series
I’m here, I called out mentally. Come and get me. I’m here. Where are you?
No answer. The gardens were so far removed from the lights and noises of the ballroom, with its scents of heavy perfumes and rich foods, that it could’ve been another world. I felt the first drizzle of rain on my cheeks and bare arms. The eerie hush, the darkness, the moisture—it was all beginning to remind me of just a few days ago when the Raven and the Raven Mocker had confronted me. I felt my courage slip, but my resolve didn’t.
“I’m sick of this, Raven!” Balling my hands into fists, I stood my ground, turning in a circle. “You’ve been torturing me for months now. Where are you? Come find me! Let’s finish this!”
Chapter 52
Bound
“No need to shout.”
I whirled, saw him emerge from behind a towering shrub. He walked toward me, graceful, as beautiful in his own terrifying way as his female counterparts.
My heart was beating fast beneath the scarlet gown, but I kept careful control of my features, refusing to let him see my fear.
“I am done with this,” I said, jabbing my finger at my ancestor. “You’ve been a presence in my dreams and a voice in my head for months. You kept me from sleeping, you sent nightmares, and you nearly drove me insane. You ruined my career. I lost it all because of you! You brought me to a strange world, where you kept on torturing me. You attacked me, you tried to kill me. What is that you want? Why don’t you just end this?”
He stood in front of me now, towering over me, taller than the Simathe High-Chief, taller than anyone I’d seen here except the Tearkin or the Stoneclad. The black feathers comprising his lush wings gleamed wet and slick in the moisture, in the hazy light. There were no visible traces left of his cursed raven form, or the weak, thin half man-half bird creature I’d first met in the clearing. Holding my ground, I stared up at him, hoping to appear braver than I actually was, shutting out the pain that started—again—to blossom between my shoulder blades.
“My love,” he said, reaching out to touch my cheek, “how you’ve changed since your magic first manifested itself. Imprisoned between Earth and Aerisia, in a dreadful in-between where we were neither alive nor dead, awake or asleep—even there your power sang to me as you sang. I heard it, I felt it. I knew it would be you. You’ve much of your father in you, but your mother, as well.”
Shock made my control slip. “What’re you—what’re you talking about?” I faltered.
His violet eyes glimmered. He’d said it deliberately to throw me off, and it had worked.
“Do you think I could not sense your parents’ pedigrees? My magic was latent in their blood. Would that escape my notice? I reached out to them. Your father was strong. He resisted my efforts. He closed me off as fanciful nonsense. He was not much for nonsense, was he?”
“No,” I agreed, thinking of Daddy.
My strong, stoic, half-Cherokee father. He was tied to the earth, to the land. To horses and cutting and baling hay and feeding cattle. Willing to track down a cow and her new calf in a snowstorm. Willing to check on the creeks in the blistering summer heat to make sure the cattle had water during a drought. When the creeks ran dry, he kept water troughs filled. His shiny black hair was cut short and always hidden beneath a battered cowboy hat, an eagle feather tucked into the brightly colored band around the brim: a nod to our heritage. Wearing long-sleeved shirts even in the middle of summer to protect him from the elements. Wranglers. Dusty cowboy boots. I could picture the leather gloves he wore while stringing barbed wire, the scuffs on the toes of his boots I’d noticed while we dug fence holes with the post hole digger.
No, Daddy had never been much for nonsense. He wasn’t big on talking or laughter, but he took care of his animals, his ranch, his ranch hands. He helped out in the community. He took care of me. He loved me. He’d even loved Mama, going out of his way time and again to take her to rehab, leaving sometimes in the middle of the night when the police called to bail her out of jail. When she was in the hospital, recovering from an overdose—which happened more than once—he would visit her every day. Locals had gossiped, wondering why a respected, grounded man like him kept going back to a flighty, drug-headed hippie like her. Nobody had thought well of Mama, including me. But Daddy had loved her.
I’d always prided myself on taking after him. I’d worked hard to maintain that practicality despite the glamour and headiness of a life that usually overwhelmed its participants. Because I wanted to be like him, and as far from Mama as possible. Now this creature, this fairytale being, was telling me I was like her too?
The Raven seized on my waffling, driving his knife further, twisting his words like a killer would twist in a blade.
“He was sensible about everything except your mother. No matter what she did, he loved her, didn’t he? He was drawn to her without knowing why. And her? She heard me. She heard me in her dreams. She felt my presence. Her people—the Irish, yes? Ah, I remember them well. So open to fairies and magic. All of their stories,” he smirked. “Her heritage left her particularly susceptible. Nothing impassive about her. Her emotions overruled all she did. In the end, she could not accept what she could not see. She turned to strange substances to impede the voice in her head, the presence in her visions. She was not strong like you, was she? Because you had your father’s blood as well as hers.”
Mama had felt it too? That presence haunting her dreams, turning them to nightmares? Strange substances—drugs. She’d turned to drugs to silence the voices in her head. Protect her from a reality she knew existed but nobody else believed.
Oh Mama...
For the first time in my life, I felt pity for the woman I thought had abandoned Daddy and me. I’d figured she was merely selfish; choosing chemical highs over her faithful husband and her daughter. But where had her addictions started? As a means of escape. Escaping the reality I was facing right now.
“Why are you telling me all this?” I breathed, forcing down painful memories, painful awareness of how I’d misjudged my mother my entire life. The mist was heavier on my face, or was it tears? I never cried. Why would I be crying for her now? Had Daddy somehow known? Had that been why he’d attempted to help her, to rescue her, time and again? In the end, it hadn’t been enough.
Like the Raven said, I wasn’t my mother. I had too much of my father in me. I refused to let him break me like he’d broken her down. He’d tried to kill me and steal my magic, but I’d survived. I was still breathing. I wasn’t finished yet.
“Why do you think you are here, Annie?” the fairy asked, almost gently.
I swiped the moisture from my face, hoping I looked defiant.
“Because you dragged me here, obviously. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”
“In every sense of the word,” he agreed. “You are not here because the Powers of Good predestined you to be a savior; not like Hannah in her role. You are not here because you were chosen for some mighty task. You are here because I fashioned you. I brought you to life.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Is it?” He stepped closer. “You are my daughter. My descendant. I brought your parents together, Annie. I felt their magic and I drew them together. You exist only because of me. I knew you would be powerful. I simply didn’t know how powerful you would be. I should have,” he said with an almost lopsided grin. “I should have. After all, you are my daughter.”
I fell back a pace, glaring. The rain was falling a little heavier now. A detached part of my brain warned me my makeup, my hair, my beautiful gown were going to be ruined. The rest of me didn’t care.
“I am not your daughter,” I said slowly, giving each word a distinct pronunciation. “You may’ve tricked some poor human women into sleeping with you thousands of years ago. You can claim you brought my parents together—which I’m not even sure I believe. But I am not your daughter. It doesn’t matter that I carry magic inherited from you. It isn’t yours. It’s mine now. And I won’t use it to free you or people like you.
“Also,” I went on, “I don’t know who you’re kidding thinking you could use me to contest Hannah as the Artan. She’s my friend. You’re not going to use my power against her or against this land. So why don’t you back off already?”
The Raven leaned down, far down, and put his face close to mine.
“You think this is about contesting the Artan? This is not about contesting the Artan any more than it is contesting the Moonkind, or the Spinners, or the Scraggen, or any other magic worker. You have the potential, my dear, if you would but embrace it and summon it to sing the entire world to your will. All of nature lies at your disposal. You could seize control of Aerisia, Artan and Moonkind and Scraggen aside. Even fairies.” Here, his tone and expression turned bitter, and I glimpsed the absolute hatred in his violet eyes. “You truly do not understand what you are, what you could be, do you? Well, it matters not. You will never become what you could be, but your magic will ascend, I assure you.”
I held his stare. “You’re insane if you think I have the potential to sing the world to my will and summon all of nature. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. I don’t need that kind of power. Aerisia has a protector, and I’m not her. I can tell you something else, too. You’re for sure not getting my power. I already know you can’t steal it from me. You tried, and the land itself came to my defense.”
What he’d said clicked in my brain and I stepped closer to him, jutting out my jaw, willing him to withdraw.
“I called out to the land itself, to the powers of the storm and sky, and they answered. They helped me, Raven. Not you. If I did that once, I can do it again.”
“But you will not,” he smiled, unconcerned.
“Why won’t I?’
“Because your magic can no longer be separated from us. Through the witch, I took your power. I took your essence. I melded with you. You flowed into me. I am linked to you, you are linked to me, and I am linked to them.”
He waved a hand behind him. The veil parted. Through the mist, the light rain, I could see the other male fairies. They were as full fleshed, proud, and beautiful as their leader. They were no longer fighting to smash an invisible barrier. Only the slightest haze separated them from this world. They were smiling. Waiting. Waiting patiently.
“Now, it is no longer accidental or incidental. Now, whenever you use your power, you strengthen us. As you grow stronger, so do we. Each time you captivate an audience with your voice, or tame a dragon with your song, your power grows and we strengthen. How many more times can you call on it before you free them?” He shrugged his bare shoulders. “Look at them. It will be soon. Very soon. You have found your voice. You will sing us free.”
I blinked several times, trying to process this.
“That—that’s impossible,” I faltered, my bravado starting to slip.
“Surely you would wish to think so.”
He was so blasé, so casual, that it frightened me more than any threats could have ever done. He was acting like this was a done deal, a foregone conclusion. That petrified me.
“Then I’ll never sing again,” I swore. “I’ll never dance, I’ll never play another instrument. You’re not going to use me to hurt this place.”
“Ah, little one.” His manner was condescending. “Music is in your veins. It flows through your soul. You can no more deny it than you can deny your own existence.” He smiled that lopsided smile. “Resist it as long as you can. It is too deeply ingrained in your being. It is only a matter of time, Annie. Only a matter of time.”
“I won’t be manipulated like this!”
“This is no manipulation,” he sneered. “Manipulation was when I encouraged you to discover your voice and sing us free. You did not comply, so I had to take it from you by force. Though the task was not finished, enough was accomplished to bind you to us. We are one now, Annie. What is yours is ours. We are one. And soon enough…”
I was frozen. I’d gone numb. It felt like the rain splatting on my shoulders, trickling down my bare arms, sliding down my skirts had turned to ice that encased me. First the revelations about my parents, my mother. Now this—the disclosure that I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t fight. Because anything I did would only empower them. I was trapped. Trapped.
How did this happen?
My ancestor saw the change come over me. With a chuckle, he reached out to embrace me, pulling me against himself in an almost fatherly embrace, only there was nothing paternal about what he wanted from me or what he planned. It didn’t matter to him that I was his offspring and shared his blood, except for how he could exploit the connection. It didn’t matter to him what I wanted to do with my magic. He wanted vengeance, and he would use me to get it.
“Oh come, my little love, is it so terrible? At least you will live. We needn’t kill you as we tried to before. And think—think of how you shall ascend in this land when you break them free! As we ascend, so will you.”
When I refused to respond, he put me away from him, tilting my face up to his. “One thing further, my girl. Flee to the Jeweled Islands as you plan. Go wherever you wish. Do whatever you like. It matters not, now that we are bound. You cannot hide from us. No one can save you. Freeing your kin, helping us gain control of Aerisia…that is your destiny. You cannot escape it.”
He stooped to kiss my forehead, then stepped back, letting me go. “I will see you in time.”
The rain closed off the vision of the other male fairies as the Raven, my forefather, stepped back into the shadows and the shrubbery and the curtain of falling rain.
“Until we meet again…”
Chapter 53
Determined
When he found me, I’d sunk to the ground, my red skirts spread out around me like a pool of blood. My beautiful gown was soggy and ruined. The rain had washed the pins from my hair. My face was lifted to the dripping sky. I wasn’t crying. I was too numb, too overwhelmed to cry. I didn’t even hurt anymore. I simply felt lost and bewildered.
How had it come to this? Everything I’d been through. Everything I’d forfeited. Everything I’d suffered. This was how it was going to end? Me, bound to my ancient ancestors, bound to free them against my will? Bound to support their plans of vengeance, of possibly dominating Aerisia, with no way of escaping it, no way to stop it? He’d known I was planning to flee and didn’t care. He’d said I couldn’t break free of them. He’d said I couldn’t deny my magic any more than I could deny my existence. Did that mean the only solution was suicide? Was that my final weapon to stop them?
My instincts recoiled even as my brain wrapped itself around the idea. I didn’t want to contemplate it, but I had to. What if that was the only way? Was I strong enough to do it? To kill myself in order to save this land, protect my friend? Protect even the people and the creatures who had mistrusted me from the beginning—the Simathe, the fairies?
In the end, they were right. They’d been right all along. They’d been right to distrust me, to watch me. They’d known this was a destiny I couldn’t avoid. They’d known somehow, someway the male fairies would use me to their advantage, twisting and manipulating and breaking me down until I was nothing more than their pawn, bent to their will…
“Annie?”
His voice broke through the darkness and rain, the shadows in my soul. I was drowning in a cold, murky sea of despair and hadn’t even known it…until I heard his voice, his footsteps.
When he saw me, saw the condition I was in, his pace picked up, his footsteps hastening until he was kneeling next to me. His hands clasped my bare upper arms.
“Annie?”
Was that worry in his voice?
“Annie, lass, what is it? Are you well?” When I didn’t answer, he shook me a little to get my attention. “Annie!”
With a gasp, my head came down, my eyes snapping into focus. Finally, I saw him, his strange Simathe eyes glittering darker than the nighttime gardens, even shrouded in mist. He was getting soaked but didn’t seem to notice.
“Annie?”
Never mind how I’d hurt him earlier: there was no mistaking the concern in his face, his voice. All of the sudden, I flashed back mentally to when I’d first transitioned between Earth and Aerisia.
There was blackness. Comforting deep blackness, darker than the darkest, deepest blackness imaginable. I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. While I drifted in that sea of obsidian, I could forget everything and simply rest. When I awakened and spoke, the blackness heard.
The blackness was him, I realized. Comforting, deep blackness. His eyes, his hair, darker than any darkness that existed. Only there was nothing evil or frightening about him. While I was with this man, I was safe. I could forget everything and rest.
“Oh Cole…”
I didn’t mean for it to, but his name came out as a whimper. I let myself sink, let myself fall against him. He gathered me into his chest, bowing over me, his back soaking up the rain for me. His arms were hard with muscle. I could feel them straining through the fabric of his shirt, his coat. His embrace was almost too tight. It almost hurt. It could have hurt, but it didn’t. He was a lifeline, drawing me out of the waters, saving me from drowning, saving me from utter despair.
“What is it, lass? What is wrong?” he murmured against my hair.
Everything. Everything was wrong in my life, except him. He was the one thing I could cling to, the one thing that drew me back to sanity and away from thoughts of suicide. He gave me resolve. Without knowing it, he offered me hope. Even as I accepted it, I accepted another truth.
I loved him.
I loved him like I’d never loved another man. I felt towards him like I’d never felt about another man, like I’d only ever dreamed of being able to feel. As I leaned against him, leaned into him, trusting him, I thought,
