History of Fire (12 page)

I swung my sword in an arc, just for the hell of it, to push back the Unseelie near my side who looked much too eager to rip us to shreds. I even gave one a start when I jerked his way, pretending to launch myself at him, sending him flying backward into his comrades, toppling at least three of them down in the process.

I snickered. Unseelie are jumpy.

“Enough!” Oran stepped farther into the circle and eyed us up and down with a distasteful glare. I felt Paki’s hatred grow, and I hoped he wouldn’t do anything rash like before. In fact, I was starting to think we wouldn’t win against this horde of Unseelie. We were just two souls in a sea of hundreds. It was looking more than bleak, and it’d be downright suicidal to try and take them on. The only way to get through this alive would be to talk our way out of it.

I glanced at Paki again. He was shifting on his feet, ready to plunge his sword into someone’s throat. He obviously knew how to fight, but I doubted he’d ever negotiated himself out of a sticky situation before. I could do it, even though my mouth has gotten me into major trouble before. The thought of having to attempt to get out of this alive churned my stomach. I flicked my eyes back to Oran. He wasn’t as big as I’d thought he’d be. I’d talked myself out of some doozies after flunking my classes with the most battle-born teachers in high school. I was pretty sure I could weasel my way out of this one.

But how? I sighed and stuffed my sword back into its sheath, hoping I wasn’t making a mistake by openly disarming myself. Paki’s eyes widened, and I motioned for him to lower his sword. He did so reluctantly, remaining skeptical.

“Shade’s my sister, yes. But that’s not why I’m here.” I stepped forward, straightening and trying with all my being to convey that I meant business. I did. Our lives were on a delicate balance and if this went badly … well … I didn’t want to think about that. It was our mission to find Oran, and darn if I had found him. Now I just had to keep my head on straight and get the hell out of there intact.

“She wanted me to speak to you. She heard you’re a direct descendant of Arthas, whom I’m sure you’ve heard has been placed back in his sarcophagus in the earth for a nice, long nap.”

“I’m not interested in Arthas. He can stay asleep.” Oran pressed forward again, looking even more threatening up close. His face had a fine scar crossing diagonally across his cheek, slashing over his nose and down the other side of his face. His long locks were pulled away from his tanned face, making his eyes appear an even lighter blue; they almost looked white. He was a few inches taller than me, but not so tall that I had to crane my neck to look up at him. He definitely packed several pounds more than me with his broader shoulders, thick arms and legs.

“I want you to tell your sister that I will reclaim my kingdom, where I am the rightful ruler, along with all my loyal soldiers and people.”

“Uh, look …” I scratched my head and tried, for the life of me, to figure out how to go about this right. “I don’t think she’ll let the Unseelie lands go to you. She’s already got somebody on the throne taking care of it. Maybe you can talk to her or something, but she’s got it pretty much under control. Plus,” I leaned forward, “Aveta transferred control of the Withering Palace to her so that might be a problem for you.”

I watched as Oran turned a frightful color of red-purple. I had to tread carefully or I risked being chopped to pieces.

“She will do as I say or …” He held out a large, dirty finger. “Or she’ll never see you again.”

“Um … so how do I get this message to her if I’m your prisoner?” I heard Paki inhale sharply as my smart mouth got the best of me. I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to be anyone’s prisoner. We would go down fighting if it came to that.

Oran thought this over, and I could see the gears rolling inside that massive head of his. I wondered what Shade would think of this foe compared to the beautiful Aveta, her former nemesis. He definitely wasn’t as pretty, but I was sure he could charm the females without any issue.

“You’ll remain here.” He pointed toward me and then motioned to Paki, who widened his eyes, feeling the sharp poke of magic from the Unseelie king. “You’re mule here will take the message to your sister.”

“I have an army ready to pounce on your camp if you dare keep me here,” I snarled at him. “I will not stay. You’ll have to kill me and deliver the message yourself.” I felt the itch in my fingers to grasp for my Empyrean blade again.

I hope I was conveying just how serious I was. Nautilus and Nyol were at my house with their soldiers, but they’d eventually track us here. They were that good. All I had to do was stay alive until then. If only they’d notice sooner rather than later that Paki and I hadn’t returned from the store.

Come on guys, need a little help here.

Why was I always in these kinds of situations? Living on the edge can get old fast, even though I thrived on these adrenaline rushes. But sometimes it wore me out, and I could feel the weight of it aching across my shoulders.

“What’s your name, brother of Shade?”

He caught me off guard and I, confused as I stuttered, forgot my name for a moment. “I—it’s Benton.”

Oran grinned and started to laugh. His comrades joined in, and the chorus of sneers and chuckles echoed across the forest trees like there were thousands of them. I briefly wondered if our crew could handle all these Unseelie if they did find us. There were so many of them, which made me feel incredibly small and useless. I was but one person. Paki was some help, but there seemed to be no way out of this. Death would be quick if not immediate. My heart sank.

“Benton. What sort of a name is that?”

I gritted my teeth, feeling my jaw strain against the pressure. “What sort of a name is Oran?”

He stopped laughing, and the surrounding warriors took a moment to quiet down under his hardened gaze. His army feared him, which was obvious. I wondered how I’d be able to negotiate with him further without losing my head. My brain wasn’t cooperating, and I was quickly running out of options.

“I’m of Faerie. It’s of fey origin. You’re nothing but a pathetic human with a pathetic name.”

I shrugged. “Depends who you’re asking.” I yanked my sword out and held it before me. “Now, you’re going to listen up, because I don’t think I want to repeat this.”

Oran ran his gaze over my sword and snickered. I could tell he wanted it. The desire burned in his eyes. Still, I had a feeling he knew he couldn’t wield it without suffering some serious injuries. It was made for my family and my blood only. He’d either die from touching its fiery surface or suffer some severe burns. Sometimes it was a darn good thing to have an affinity to fire. If anything, I was going to burn the hell out of this army before they got to us.

“No one is going to remain prisoner here. I suggest you return to Faerie with me, Oran, and speak to her yourself. You’ll be powerless in her presence, but I guarantee she’ll be fair with you. Who knows, maybe she’ll grant you some Unseelie land where you can live your life out to a happy little ending.” I closely looked for a reaction. “What do you say?” I added, seeing nothing.

His smile melted away, and he stared at the sword for a good long while as he contemplated what I’d said. I didn’t think it’d be that hard of a decision, but something told me it wouldn’t be so easy to convince him.

“You speak as if you know who I am, human. Let me reassure you, you know nothing about me and are quite unaware of what I’m capable of. If you did, you wouldn’t invite me to your sister’s home so easily.”

“Seems we have a lot in common. You know nothing about me, either.”

Oran considered this as he rubbed his fingers together. He looked briefly away then snapped his head back toward me. I could see he’d made up his mind and hoped it would take us in the right direction. Otherwise, I was seriously going to have a problem keeping my head attached to my neck.

“I propose a bet.” Oran suddenly looked delightfully thrilled. My stomach sank. No one smiled like that thinking of warm fuzzy feelings. “One of you can fight my best warrior. If you win, I’ll go with you, unarmed, to see your sister the queen. If my warrior wins, he gets to deliver the killing blow, and the other will be released to inform Shade. What do you say?”

I flicked my eyes toward Paki and found him sweating profusely. He was losing it. I could tell he was getting close to cracking. I put my hand on the guy’s shoulder, making him jump in the process, but he didn’t proceed to attack me. Good thing, too. I wanted to keep my limbs attached.

“Hey, man. No worries, I’ll do it.”

Paki gulped, and I could see the worry lift from his shoulders. Had he really thought I’d send him to do my dirty work? He must have, because he visibly relaxed. This only lasted a second, though, and his body stiffened. “No, M’Lord!” he said. “The queen will be furious with me if you die!”

I shook my head. “I got this. Not dying today.” He was still shaking his head, muttering his protests, as I held up my hand. “Paki, stop already. If something happens to me …” I choked on the words, knowing they could be my last. “Tell my family I love them and warn them for me. Please? You got to do this for me.”

Paki stopped shaking and stared at me, looking defeated. Worry and disbelief cycled through his features as he continued to shake his head. I didn’t wait for him to say yes because I knew he’d do what I said. He’d never let me down. At least I could trust my sister’s lieutenant. From the look on his face, he was committed to serving her well.

I turned toward Oran and found him looking smug as he ordered the people around him to bring him a seat. They scurried and fumbled about, using magic to form a suitable chair. I wanted to shake my head at them. Insufferable fools. What a waste of faery magic to be at the beck and call of this man.

“Have you chosen?” Oran asked, looking satisfied. I bet he loved to do this all the time, between his own men. Watch them fight each other to death for sport. How quaint.

I nodded and stepped forward. “I’ll fight your warrior, but when this is all over, you’ll meet with my sister and discuss things with her. Swear to it.”

I knew the drill about binding a faery to their word. Shade and my mother had schooled me well on how to tie a faery to an unbreakable oath. If not done properly, they always finagled their way out of it.

Oran didn’t look happy, proving he hadn’t been planning on keeping any kind of a deal.

“I swear it.”

“Swear the oath properly.” The gasps and whispers fluttering around us let me know that no one really ever challenged Oran like that. I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake.

He cocked his head as he narrowed his eyes, looking downright pissed.

“Very well. I swear on the Land of Faerie that if you lose this battle, I will visit your sister Shade at her palace to negotiate the fate of the Unseelie lands. Happy?”

I bowed my head, eager to get this over with. I swung my sword around and paused to stretch my legs and arms as I readied to fight Oran’s champion. I could take on any of these fools, no problem. Having to go through this was pathetic.

The crowd rustled about and opened up on one side as a figure approached. Scores of Unseelie pressed against each other to avoid the approaching warrior. I finished warming up by cracking my neck and turned to check out my foe. Instead of finding a soldier of the usual Unseelie variety, like the ones who’d been swarming about us the entire time, a familiar and monstrous Sidhe faery who I’d only gotten but a passing glimpse of during my past time at the Unseelie castle filled up the far side of the ring.

He’d been the consort to the preceding ruler of the Unseelie Realm, long before my time, which marked him as one of the old ones, but he wasn’t as old as Arthas. He was none other than Aveta’s father, Seritus, who’d been one of her main advisors and also the training supervisor of the new guards at the Withering Palace. He was none other than the Elder King himself, an expert in every weapon in existence and completely cold and unfeeling. Right next to him, holding his sword and leering at me, was none other than the night elf I’d chased off before killing his friend in Vegas.

What was Cornelius doing there?

Crap.

The Elder King Seritus was as emotionless as a person could be and cold as stone. It was no wonder Aveta turned out the way she had. With what I’d heard of her psychotic mother, who loathed her and even tried to kill her at one point, and add to that a father who wasn’t allowed to see her much and was as unfeeling as a brick wall, there was no doubt in my mind that could fuck someone up in the head. Still, I’d heard of his legendary fighting skills and how he kept the Unseelie army in check when I briefly served in the Unseelie ranks and had to bust Shade and an Ancient faery named Rowan, who commands the Spring Realm, out of the Withering Palace. I wasn’t looking forward to fighting him, even though I’d developed some pretty badass fighting skills while chasing down Unseelie rogues.

Still, if I was no match for someone who’d been training for centuries and lost this match miserably, I’d be dead as dirt and not much would matter to me anymore, would it? I watched him as he rolled his shoulders, loosening them up under the thin steel armor encasing his body, which looked hard and impenetrable, like no armor I’d ever seen before. Maybe it was heavy and would slow him down enough for me to catch a break, but knowing what I knew about Faerie, it was probably just the opposite: light, flexible and durable.

The armor was an exquisitely brushed metal patterned with intricately carved symbols rippling down the plates on his arms and over his chest and back, making him look like he was wearing dragon scales. Even his legs were covered in the movable plates. They made little noise when he walked and didn’t seem to impede movement. In contrast, I was wearing worn-out jeans and a T-shirt; it was quite unfortunate that I wasn’t wearing any armor, but the clothes were all I had on me, and it made my confidence take a nosedive. I was so screwed.

As I waited for the Elder king to prepare, I mentally listed out my few options. Remembering some simple spells from the grimoires, I reached into my bag, summoning a small concoction of herbs and ingredients I kept on me at all times, especially after learning about some of them from Braelynn. I pulled out a water flask and took a fast swig of the fluid and then poured a few drops into my hand holding the herbs. I tossed the flask back into my bag and began furiously rubbing the plants into my palms. The friction sparked as the herbs released their essences, along with a dash of my own magic, which turned it all into a sticky mash.

I grabbed tiny pinches of the mix, dabbing it on vital parts of my body: my neck, chest, abdomen, back, sides, legs, basically anything vulnerable, furiously rubbing it in. I looked like swamp thing when I was through, but I could feel the magic tightening between each vital area as the spell began to weave a natural and durable elemental armor around my body. It was better than nothing, but I hadn’t used it before and didn’t know the extent of its strength. I prayed it would help keep me from dying too quickly during the battle. There was no room to lose. I had to win this or Shade would have an army banging on her door soon enough, issuing demands.

The thought of my family being threatened by this self-important dictator amped me up. I wouldn’t let any of that happen, ever. I would beat this. Something deep inside told me I’d get through it. I hoped.

“Are the warriors ready?” At Oran’s side, I saw Cornelius announcing to the group, like he was of fragging importance. I wondered just how much power he had in Oran’s tribe.

“Yep,” I answered.

“Yes,” Seritus answered and bowed to the “king.” Cornelius threw me a smug grin, and I returned it with a bright, overly happy smile, flashing him my white teeth and bowing a little too deeply. When I looked back up, he wasn’t smiling anymore. In fact, if I wasn’t mistaken, he was staring at me with an air of absolute contempt. I couldn’t wait to slice his throat wide open, but I’d have to take care of him later.

I turned toward Seritus and gripped my sword tightly. Now to kill an Elder King, a Sidhe faery who looked more badass than I ever had. I swallowed back the dryness forming in my mouth and breathed in deeply. I had to stay calm, stay in control.

“Fighters, take your places at opposite sides of the circle.” Cornelius pointed to both ends of the clearing where we were to fight. I peered around to find Paki standing on the other side of Oran, looking glum with a tight frown on his face. I was going to have to remind him to loosen up those facial muscles or he’d get stuck looking like an old man with wrinkles before his time.

I sighed and swung the sword around in a wide arc. The crowd around us gasped and whispered to each other as they studied both the warriors. I was sure they were taking bets on who’d win and became even more certain that I wasn’t the favorite.

Perfect.

“Hold out your swords,” Cornelius instructed. Seritus brought the length of his blade up and I followed with mine. The fire of my Empyrean blade licked the sides of his, but it wasn’t hot enough to melt the steel of his faery sword. I had to hand it to whoever had made my sword. It was indestructible and lightweight and felt like an extension of my arm. Though the Elder King’s sword was also beautiful and well made, it lacked the magic that laced through mine.

“Begin!”

We began by circling each other in the limited space. I couldn’t read Seritus like most of my foes, so I resigned to observing his movements and keeping track of any techniques he liked to use. The guy was like a moving statue. His eyes gave nothing away and his body never wavered, moving like liquid despite his size.

Stepping closer, I decided to test his defenses. I swung my sword toward him, and our blades met with a high-pitched twang. I could feel the force behind his defenses when he blocked me. It was hard and steady since his muscles knew the drill and were stockier than most. I continued to swing at all angles and sides, trying my best to find a vulnerability. All through this, he remained calm, with a stoic mask and looking unfazed by my efforts. Over and over, he blocked my attempts, and I failed to find a single chink in his armor. This frustrated the hell out of me as we paced around the circle once more and I waited for him to make the next move.

“Relent now, and you may live, elemental.” Seritus’s voice surprised me. I hadn’t expected a merciful offer from any of them.

“Or what?”

His eyes remained blank. I swear the guy was as emotionless as a slug. It was not only strange, but made the hairs on my neck stand on end. Who doesn’t show any emotions? Maybe it was a ruse, developed through centuries of conditioning. Who the hell knew? I suspected that living so long, he had forgotten how to express himself, but I didn’t know his entire story. If I lived through this, I’d be sure to try and find out.

“Or this will be your end,” Seritus answered. “I do not condone killing the rarities of this world. Elementals exist in such few numbers. I remember when there were scores of your kind. Now, you’re almost extinct.” He swung forward, crashing into my sword as I scrambled to block it. I barely escaped a slice to stomach and cursed to myself for being so foolish. I was being careless, clumsy and naÏve. I’d been in worse swordfights. Why couldn’t I get it together enough to stay at arm’s length from this massive man? It was beyond me.

“I guess we’ll find out.” I rushed forward in the hopes of getting a surprise jump on him, launching myself up, using his hip as a boost as I swung to the side. My sword clanged against the metal on his back, but it was enough to make him have to step forward to regain his balance. He used the momentum to propel around and slice me on my back right side.

I groaned and stumbled forward, pressing against the wound. A fiery heat seared across the cut, filling me with a sickening pain. It wasn’t deep, at least I didn’t think it was, but it was pouring crimson blood down my side, staining my clothes. I turned to keep him in my line of vision as I regained my composure. Concentrating on the wound, I quickly sent a line of fire magic to the wound, using the heat to weave the wound back together as it cauterized the tiny capillaries leaking blood all over my shirt and down my back. I yelled out from the excruciating pain from the healing and almost passed out. I didn’t usually heal my wounds that way—it was more unbearable than the wound itself—but at the moment, I didn’t have a choice.

I hated doing such a hasty job, but the moment it was done, I was already rolling on the ground to escape Seritus, who was barreling toward me.

I almost tripped dodging the barrier of Unseelie, their hollers and screams filling my head while they waved their arms around and cheered their champion on. It was somewhat disorientating, but I dug my heels into the dirt and mulch of the forest floor, grasping the earth magic I could feel pulsing through the forest. Earth magic was Shade’s domain, but I had grasped some knowledge on how to wrangle it from the grimoires.

It was enough to anchor me and brought my target back into focus. I dove to avoid Seritus’s sword and felt a whoosh of air pass, sending my locks flying up behind me before I rolled across the clearing. I managed to jump to my feet again and found Seritus carefully watching me.

I was already exhausted, feeling the painful throb of the newly closed wound. It was no longer bleeding, but I had lost a lot of blood before I’d healed it. The weakness fired up my muscles, making the dull ache a constant reminder that I was losing. But I wasn’t through. Far from it. Even the impact of clanging swords with a faery ten times stronger than me couldn’t numb me enough to give up yet. So I kept on while feeling pathetic and so very mortal as I huffed for air while Seritus looked like he wasn’t even winded.

This wasn’t going my way at all.