Mythical (The Mystical Series Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: Mythical (The Mystical Series Book 2)
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This is a first. He’s never been afraid of me before. I show him no mercy. My left arm starts to glow a light green; everything in the forest becomes quiet except for the elf in front of me.

I swoop my weapon toward his legs, knocking him to the ground. Christian rolls to the side, avoiding my stab.

“Eliza, what the hell is wrong with you!”

“I need you to kiss me.”

I run toward him with my weapon, aiming for his gut.

“Why didn’t you say so?” he grumbles and then swiftly catches my weapon in his hands, yanks it out of my grip, and throws it to the ground before me. He grips my waist and pulls me toward him.

“Feisty. Didn’t I tell you that I liked that?” he whispers.

His voice makes me shudder, and my throat is starting to swell. I can’t say a thing, and I can’t continue punching this attractive green-eyed mystic in front of me. I feel weak and vulnerable, because my world is spinning and the smell of mint is overwhelming my senses.

The elf’s lips graze against my neck, traveling up under my chin. He kisses the tip of it. “Christian…” I croak.

He shuts me up by kissing me.

I can feel my mind falling into pure ecstasy, serenity, and that’s when it happens. My mind goes blank and dark, and the images start to appear in front of me as my left arm tingles where my green markings twirl.

I need to focus. The tree isn’t too far from where we stand. It is around a big circle of plants, and I guess from there is the fairy kingdom…if I am lucky.

Christian keeps kissing me, even though my mind is somewhere else, and then his hand creeps under my shirt.

The images stop abruptly, and I snap back to reality, slapping his hand. He shoves me against a tree, not breaking the kiss. We’re freezing and our markings are lighting up the woods.

“What are you doing?” I manage to gasp. Christian isn’t listening to me. I push him off of me roughly, and he lands in a pile of snow.

He looks up at me and says, “In the moment, sorry.”

“Whatever, don’t touch me.”

“I kind of already did, Eliza. I mean, I need to touch your lips for a kiss to work out.”

“That’s a whole different thing, and I already got what I needed, so back up and don’t come any closer.” I reach down for my bar, holding it up at him.

“So you used me for your own needs?” He chuckles.

“Well, yes, yes, I did.” This sounds so wrong. “I needed to, well, um, I needed the kiss to find the tree we’re looking for.”

“You needed me to kiss you, so that you can find a tree?” He pauses for a moment and furrows his eyebrows at me. “You risked your life kissing an elf?”

I know it was stupid of me, and he isn’t helping. It
was
really a dumb move, but I got what I needed: the location of the tree.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“We got all day.”

“No, we don’t. The tree is this way. Come on.”

“I guess I’m not the only one with secrets, huh?”

I brush off what he said and lead the way to the circular path I saw in my head. I find it with ease, a circle with plants, and in the middle is the tree Emily ran up on.

“Okay, we’re here. Now what?”

“Now the fairy kingdom will ‘magically’ appear in front of us.” I wave my hands up in the air like my AP biology teacher did back in high school.

Hopefully.

I really hope I didn’t kiss Christian just to kiss him. It didn’t feel like it was for fun. We wait in the circle. Nothing happens. Christian kicks the ground, bored, with his hands in his green jeans pockets.

“Any minute.”

“I don’t think anything’s going to happen here.” He looks over at me. “I’m down for another make out session.”

I try to avoid his eye contact; it’s another trap to pull me into his tricks. “No, it is. We have to wait…” I bite my thumb. “It has to be here. I mean, Christian was here—”

“What do you mean I was here?”

“I mean Emily.
Emily
was here.” I smile, attempting to laugh off the awkwardness. It’s true though; Christian was here, and I remember seeing him in my vision.

I place my hand on the tree’s bark, frustrated. A pulse goes through my hand. I glance up at the massive tree in front of me. I am listening to the tree. Everything becomes silent. I don’t know if I am really going crazy or not, but this tree…its emotions rage in my head; it wants me to do something. I look over at Christian. He’s not hearing the voices I hear.

I press my palm on its bark once more, and a light pulse hits me. My left arm freezes, and the beaming green lights pulse with the tree. Rainbow lights shoot up within the cracks of the bark. The wood on the tree starts to crumble and fall to the ground, the wind picks up, and the plants around us wave in the air.

I step back in shock, holding onto my right arm. It’s dusted with snow; a thick white fog separates Christian and me.

“Eliza! Get away from that tree.”

He rushes through the haze, his footsteps crunching around, trying to find me. He grabs my arm, yanking me away from the tree.

The bark starts to crumble and morph into a dark hole. One last pulse zips throughout my body. It is the same carved entrance I saw before in my vision, the bark Christian touched, and then him walking toward me and snapping me out of my trance.

Rainbow lights appear in the hole, and colorful orbs float up within the tree.

“What’s going on?”

“We found the kingdom.” I smile. “Remember what Miss Canary said? Each kingdom has its own protective charm; the fairy kingdom must be down this tree hollow.”

“You’re sure about this?” Christian looks worried.

“Trust me, I know it’s the kingdom.” I glance up at the tree. “I can feel it.” I glance over at him. “Is the almighty elf prince of Ellevil scared?”

We step in front of the tree and its wide hole. I take a branch from the ground, shake the snow from it, and drop it inside the hole. The branch falls down into the hollow tree. We’ll have to do the same. There is no other way of entering.

“We need to drop in.”

“Are you kidding me? If we step into this thing, we’re going to die.”

He could be right about that. We have to fall inside not knowing what could be waiting for us. It feels right to fall into the unknown though; maybe it’s because I’m a witch. Maybe it’s because of my instinct, something Christian doesn’t have. Maybe it’s because I’m more of a daredevil and he’s the devil himself.

I know in my heart and mind I need to jump into whatever waits for me. One step closer to finding Jare, one step closer to figuring out why Mom went back to Rav, and another to finding out who I truly am. Christian pulls me up and walks me away from the tree. He looks into my eyes, but I act like I’ve heard something from a distance.

There’s no way I’m going to let him try and mess with my mind.

“You can stay out here if you want. I mean, you said it yourself: this is your home anyway. You’re an elf.” I walk backward toward the hole.

“Eliza—”

“Excuse me, I have a rose to deliver.” I smile, closing my eyes, and with my back turned against the big hole, I drop inside the tree, falling with increasing speed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

 

“Eliza!” he yells, his voice fading away.

I’m on the rollercoaster with Christian again, falling down, and everything is black. I spread out my arms to see if my fingers scrape against the insides of the tree; I can’t feel anything.

The fall is an exhilarating rush. I can feel the pressure around me increase as I reached the bottom. Below me I can see colorful light sparkling and detect a sweet smell. This smell is familiar; it’s the scent that trapped Dawn. Coming to a halt by force, I land on my belly against the dirt.

Amazed I haven’t died, I look around to see flowers lining the insides of the tree. Music thumps against my chest, a weird hip-hop and electric mixed with some other style of music. I see two fairy girls kissing and floating by, shocked that they didn’t notice me.

I glance up to see where I fell from. The hole is massive, rising up the trunk. The glowing dust rises around my body; I’m breathless and amazed.

Definitely inside the tree.

Along the sides of the trees are light green vines on the brown walls and tons of little doors. There are wooden stairs that wrap around the sides, and fairies are sitting on them, dangling their legs. They giggle, talking with one another and sipping on their glittery drinks. A fairy opens one of the doors, and when snow enters, she flutters out of the tree.

I walk over to the two floating, kissing fairies. A girl is on a grassy stage in front of me, dancing to the music. The corrupt fairy that attacked Dawn and me looked nothing like this fairy. She has rainbow-colored vines and leaves covering her body; her wings are sharp looking and twitching with each move she makes, and yet they’re silky and flutter effortlessly.

A dark green vine spirals around one of her legs. Leaves cover her breasts and other private parts. She has golden blonde hair that waves around as she dances with the music. The ends of her strands fade into red, then blue, bleeding into purple. The music is intoxicating. The fairy places her hands on her chest, circling her hips around. She lifts up her sultry gaze, sticking out her tongue, which is sliced in the middle. She licks the ends of her sharp teeth as her colorful saliva drips into the crease of her cleavage. She smears the colorful liquid on her rainbow tattoos, causing her to glow lighter.

I’m tempted to approach her audience; everything she is doing wants to lure me in.

“Eliza Rose? Am I right?” a flamboyant British voice says from behind me.

I whip around to see a tall caramel-skinned fairy watching me carefully. He has to be in his twenties; he doesn’t look like the king here.

“Yes?” I am fascinated by how he looks. His rainbow markings glow on and off in time with the bass of the thumping music.

“Nice to finally meet you. My name is Warren Vasaloff. I’m the King of Fairies. Do you have my rose?” He moves around with the beat, waving his arms around him. There’s a golden ring on his ring finger.

I dig for the rose in my coat pocket and hand it to him. He twirls the rose’s stem between his fingers. He’s checking his nails; his sharp wings brush against one another; he’s now floating in front of me. Yeah, I think Miss Canary was right about them being extrovert. Warren glances behind me and then back to the rose.

He is wearing black short shorts and a black crop top. Around his stomach are his fairy markings, traveling down around his right thigh, and two placed on each hip; he’s barefoot.

“I love it when witches stare. It gives us fairies a chance to kill them.”

The smell here is so sweet, and the temptation to dance, to kiss, and to drink is taking hold of my mind. His skin is mouthwatering, clean shaven, and his eyes are shifting through the many colors of the rainbow. Fairies are much different than any mystic I’ve faced.

“Welcome to Faevil,” he says, then twirls around in the air and flies to the girl on the stage.

I watch Warren dancing on stage in front of me. My coat slides off, and I turn around to see who removed it. In front of me is a floating fairy. He isn’t that tall for the average male, but that’s the thing—he isn’t average…he’s a mystic. His coal black hair shines, reflecting against the honey brown roots above us. I forget I’m inside of a tree for a second.

“Do I need to take off your shoes too?” His voice is soft and beautiful.

I gaze at the light and dark green vines that hug his slim body, and his glimmering rainbow tattoos. I crook up a smile, letting the soothing music flow into my ears and his scent to invade me.

“Less clothes the better?” I say wryly.

“That’s kind of the point. Call me Aeron.” His eyes change color.

“Liza…”

Aeron flies around me, touching my skin with the tips of his fingers. He’s much different than Warren, calm and reserved.

“You’re getting zoned, aren’t you? I’ll be right back.”

I want to go over and dance with the other fairies here. My mouth is open and I’m extremely dizzy, but it’s amazing. I stumble over to an edge. The tree gets deeper; if I keep walking, I’ll be in the pit with the dancing fairies.

I don’t care. I want to dance too.

“Whoa, pretty face, careful there.”
His hands wrap around my wrist, pulling me back.

I mumble something embarrassing, smiling up at him. “You smell so…delicious.” I sniff his skin, rubbing his chest.
“Why are you laughing at me?”

“Cause you’re zoned, Liza.” He’s holding a green drink in his hands. “Here drink this. It’ll help you.”

I push his hand away from my mouth. “I-I might be awesome, but I’m not
that
awesome,” I moan, pressing my index finger on his chest. “Back up you mystic.” I move my hips, dancing with the beat. He grabs my sides, turning me around to face him, and presses the glass to my mouth. “Hey! Let go of me, pixie.”

The music completely stops, and he steps back a bit. The eyes of the many fairies glare up at me from their dance pit. I don’t know what I said for them to stop having fun.

“Continue on with your—the moving of the hips and the stuff.” My voice is a slur.

The fairies proceed to dance around, a roar of mumbles filling the wide space in the tree.

Do they know I’m a witch? Someone born to kill them?

“Open your mouth before you say something else stupid.”

“Fine.” I open my mouth, stick my tongue out, and say, “Ahhhh.” At first it tastes like sour green apple, then it starts to burn on my tongue like hot sauce. I swallow, waving my hands around in Aeron’s face. The music is lowered, and the sweet smell in this kingdom dies down.

“Thank you…”

“Don’t mention it.” He flutters over to a table, placing the drink down. “You’re a witch. What are you doing here?” He resumes floating in front of me.

I stand silently, struggling to find words to respond to him.

“Witches can’t get into the tree. There’s a force that prevents non-mystics and corrupt beings from entering.”

Then how come Christian didn’t leap inside with me? It’s perfectly fine here, just the extreme temptations and whatnot overwhelmed me. Maybe Christian was too scared to even jump.

Aeron glares at me in pure confusion, throwing my coat on top of a large glowing flower, and floats into the shadows. I turn around to see the girl who was dancing on stage…standing, not floating in front of me, with her arms crossed. Warren staggers from behind her, approaching the two of us.

“Follow me,” he says. “Kara, watch the entrance.”

Her eyes glimmering a light green color and then fading into pink, she flies above me. Her fresh flowery scent whips across my face, and I smile. These smells really remind me of the time Dawn got attacked. I really hope she’s been safe while I’ve been lost in this strange mystical world.

Warren plops to the ground from mid-air, strutting toward a large cave-like entrance, his wings twitching with each step.

The fairy king is a few feet ahead of me, and if I don’t catch up to him, he’ll eventually be gone. He obviously doesn’t care if I follow or not. I grab my coat and check to see if I brought my bar with me. I search around my coat for the weapon, but it’s gone. I must’ve left it back up at the entrance. The only thing I have to protect me from the mystics in this place isn’t here with me. I know I can’t trust anyone…not even Warren.

I start to head back toward the tree, trying to not act stupid like Donovan would call me.

“The king’s chamber, I believe, is that way, sweetie.” Kara glances toward the entrance behind me.

“I need to find something,” I murmur.

“Your broomstick? You’ve no need to lie, my dear.” She chuckles. “It’s not over here. Trust me, I would have seen it.”

She walks toward me, her eyes glowing different colors. She has the same smell that crawled off of Dawn from her attacker in the alley. Kara’s giggles taunt me in the background as I get caught in my hopeless reverie. I need another sip from that drink Aeron gave me.

“Kara, leave the poor witch alone,” someone mutters.

“She’s so innocent, it’s killing me inside,” she says. “Aeron, mind your business.”

I blink up at the seductive fairy and turn around to see Aeron kicking the gravel with his hands in his pockets, his markings glowing. I guess my grandmother was a bit wrong or whoever wrote in our family grimoire that elves and fairies aren’t alike. They’re manipulative freaks. However, from what I saw, back at Ellevil the elves focused more on combat training and evasion techniques.

Here at Faevil…well, it was different. The fairies focused more on partying, and they were free spirited.

I pat my head, trying to soothe the headache that’s bound to come.

Aeron starts to walk toward me. I focus on the king’s chamber, avoiding eye contact with the fairy. He stops me from passing him, turning me around to face him.

“Be careful with Warren,” Aeron says. “He might come off young and all, but he’s way older than you. There’s a reason why he’s our king.” I hear flapping wings behind me.

“Eliza? I’ve been waiting in my chamber for you. Did I really have to come out to fetch you?” Warren eyes Kara as she flies away, and Aeron wanders off to the bar.

I follow the king, trudging inside the dark alley Warren steps into. Golden circular lights float in the air above us. I brush the tip of my fingers against the flowery moss walls and tuck a single strand of my now blonde hair behind my right ear.

“In here.”

I can sense Warren not too far ahead of me, and I see his glowing skin art gleaming across the dim cave-like alley. The music fades away, and I follow his wings through darkness. He lands in front of a large hole to our right that’s stuck into the wooden walls. He glances at me and sighs, pulling out the golden rose I was told to deliver, then walks inside the hole.

I enter the king’s room. In front of me, a large sparkling mirror is hung. Inside the mirror a reflection of a teenaged girl with blonde hair and vibrant green eyes stands awkwardly. I place my palm against my neck, while watching the girl do the same. I remember how the transformation changed my appearance. I have most of my markings covered, so I don’t know if they’re glowing or not. I’m pretty sure I’ll end up freezing or burning if they are.

As for the king’s room, it isn’t sparkly or anything; it’s really dirty and dull with a bunch of dusty books. The only sort of color is Warren and the golden rose in his hand. The fairy flutters silently in front of the mirror, watching me.

“You were in deep thought,” he says, dropping his eyes down to the flower. My eyes wander from the sea of dusty books back to his reflection in the mirror. Warren chuckles. He stops floating and drops to the wooden floor.

“I can tell that you’re worried about something. It’s all over your face. Witches are so predictable; it amazes me, really.”

“Okay, well you’ve got your flower Miss Canary told me to deliver.”

“Oh, so she’s going by Miss now? So strange, you have no idea who you are to her.” I don’t know what he means by that. He licks his lips and walks deeper into the room. “Do you understand why this flower is important to my kind?”

“Yes I do.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He grins.

“It’s to keep your kingdom hidden from non-mystics.”

“Oh…is that so? Then please tell me how are you here?” Warren chuckles once more, walking toward a carved circular window. “My power is as strong as Terese’s, and a witch was able to dive into my portal.” He turns around. “Makes me wonder what else you might be.” He lifts the golden flower, which cries golden sparkles onto the floor. Warren turns back around, facing the carved window. There is a droopy blue flower on the sill. The color is fading, the stem is bent, and the flower looks like it’s dying.

Outside this window, there’s bark of the tree from the inside, and the flower’s stem is stuck in the wood. Warren yanks it out and snaps it in half. Immediately the music and cheer from outside of the king’s room becomes awfully quiet. Disturbingly so.

I’m on the verge of crying, and that isn’t the only feeling surging throughout my body; it’s also anger, jealousy, embarrassment…I’m becoming crazy.

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