Descendant (10 page)

He crosses the space I’ve put between us and turns me to face him. “Wait. Not to be redundant, but I need to puzzle this together.
You got that ring from your grandmother. You’re a Healer who sees visions—sometimes of strangers, and sometimes of a certain person. Am I correct so far?”

The word “strangers” hits a note in my brain, but I can’t place it. My teeth chatter again, as much from nerves as from the cold. “Yes.”

“Have you ever seen the past?” His eyes are intent, and I sense that the answer to this question is important.

“I think once. But it might have been a dream.”
It wasn’t.

“It’s you.” Kye doesn’t ask for any more explanation, but closes his eyes and turns his face to the sky. When he looks at me again, his eyes are luminous in the moonlight. “I knew there was something, that you had a Gift, but—” He breaks off to stare at me. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you before now—or maybe I did, but I ignored it all this time. It’s you.”

I tuck my face into his neck as a shiver rattles my teeth, and he enfolds me in his arms. I don’t know what he means—not sure he does either—but this part, where we fit together in an embrace as if we were cut from the same mold, it feels right. Peaceful.

When the cold becomes too much, Kye takes my hand and leads me around the building. The light of the full moon gilds everything with a pale silver lining and a billion stars blink above, reflecting off the snow and creating radiance in places where there are no electric lights. A movement at the tree line catches my eye and I stop. “Where are we going?”

“There’s something I want to show you.”

“It’s like zero degrees out here and neither of us is wearing a coat. Let’s go back inside.”

He puts a finger to his mouth and pulls me through the snow. “In a few minutes. Don’t worry, I won’t let you freeze. Hurry, they’re waiting.”

“Who?”

The night brightens farther from the building. Tiny glowing lights flicker in and out of the snow-covered branches, and a gust of warm, sweet-smelling air invites us forward. A gentle, peaceful hum tickles my ears as it’s carried on the breeze like angel music. My sensitive nose detects traces of honeysuckle and lilac, fresh grass and salt water—scents I associate more with spring than winter. Especially winter in a sulfur-soaked park riddled with volcanic activity.

At the edge of the tree line, Kye encircles my waist protectively and positions me in front of him. “What are we waiting for?” I whisper.

“The sprites are inspecting your energy field. They want to know if they can trust you.”

“Sprites?”

Kye lets go and steps away. “Our fields are mixed. I’m being asked to move aside.”

“Sprites?” I ask again.

His mouth drops open in surprise, but then he closes it and smiles. “You’ve never seen an elemental.”

I move forward involuntarily, longing for more of the warmth I can feel blowing from somewhere through the trees, but Kye holds me back. “Stay still.”

“What’s an elemental?”

He runs a hand down my hair. “Elementals are manifestations of the basic elements that support our Gifts. They give us life and protect the earth.”

I wonder why Gram never mentioned sprites—or elementals. And then I wonder who explained it to Kye. A few minutes later, he nudges me forward, grinning. “You’re in. We’re invited to the party.”

As
  Kye leads me through the thicket of trees, I find the piney scent comforting, familiar. Warm air swirls around, engulfing us in spring-like temperatures even as snow crunches under our feet and hangs in thick strands from the foliage. Farther in, the light gets brighter and the aroma of roasting herbs urges me forward.

When the trail narrows and the light dims, Kye squeezes my hand and we duck below a heavy curtain of branches. A high-pitched squeaking noise makes me scan the area, but I see nothing other than snow and the occasional patch of green. I feel like the forest is shrinking in on me and fight off a wave of claustrophobia as we’re forced to duck even lower. “Almost there,” Kye says. After a few more feet, we emerge in a clearing.

Thousands of tiny lights hover in the air and a cheery fire dances inches off the ground within a circle of stones. A creature is perched at the edge of a pine log. Her greenish skin is shot through with veins of darker green and a wild array of fiery red vines cascade to the jagged hem of her filmy deep-green skirt. Her bare feet tap a rhythm on one of the stones as she turns a spit of squash, wild onions, and asparagus. A basket of herbs nestles on the ground near the fire.

The creature turns, and I shiver in surprise when the flames glint off a pair of iridescent wings.

“A faery,” Kye says under his breath. He bows. “We offer thanks
to Nematona and the faeries for gifts to the trees and the animals, the plants, the water, and all living things. And thank you for granting my request.”

“You answered your summons earlier, and now the favor has been repaid.” The faery’s voice is high-pitched, musical. Warm air swirls around me like a mini tornado. “Your female possesses an elemental Gift but has never called upon us for aid. Why?”

“Her understanding has been limited,” Kye says.

“You speak truth.” The faery turns to me and smiles, baring jagged teeth. “You may call me Alena. I sense many questions within you.” She probes me with emerald green eyes, reminding me of how I feel when Kye looks at me. “The answers you seek are buried within your heart. Only you have the power to find them.”

Squeaking noises ripple through the clearing again. “Watch this.” Kye’s arm curls around me protectively.

My pulse vibrates in a wild rhythm as the trees sway unnaturally and large things move out of the shadows. One by one, creatures crowd the clearing. The first stands easily seven feet tall, with rough tree-bark skin and grassy hair. Its long fingers are twiggy and covered with knobs. Another has brown, grainy skin—more like dirt than bark—and tiny stubbles of wheat-colored hair running from the top of its head to halfway down its back. Closer to the ground, a tree-stump-like figure, with green moss draped over gray scaly skin clomps toward us. More creatures approach and I struggle to take them all in. Some have wings, others don’t. And the balls of light—which turn out to be sprites—continue to hang in the air like tiny, glowing hummingbirds.

Alena hovers close to Kye. “You received Nematona’s message?”

Kye nods. “Finn indicated it was urgent.”

“Indeed.” Her faery wings flutter. “A great rumbling can be heard from the belly of Mother Earth. The Dark Elen seek ancient Keys to unlock the lost city and the evil trapped within.”

Kye leans closer to Alena. “What happens if the Elen find the Keys?”

“All you see,” Alena’s arms spread wide, “the forest, the trees, the grass, the rocks, the streams, the lakes, the air ... all will be destroyed by forces of darkness.”

“That can’t be good,” I say, for lack of a better response.

“No, not at all.” Kye shakes his head. Alena’s wings flutter faster and faster as she begins to spin, whirling to the other side of the clearing. A creature catches her and whisks her through the trees in a graceful dance, leaving a trail of greenish mist in their wake.

“I have a question,” I say, taking a step away from Kye and holding my hands toward the fire, noticing for the first time that some of the flames are blue. “Two, actually.”

He raises a brow and comes to stand next to me. “Just two? That’s hard to believe, under the circumstances.”

“Well, it’s kind of difficult to voice them all at once, so I’m going to start with two. Nematona and the Elen. What and who? Explain.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair so it falls around his eyes. “Nematona is queen of the Tree Spirits. I almost never hear from her, but when I do, she tends to be majorly demanding. Like now. Not very trusting of humans, either. Can’t say I blame her for that, though.”

“And the Elen?”

The word causes him to purse his lips, like he’s chewing on an explanation he would rather not spit out. “Elen is what people once called the Gifted.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. “So, she was referring to us?”

He shakes his head, his expression horrified. “No. Absolutely not. Not anymore. A long, long time ago, there was a war, and let’s just say the bad guys won. They kept the name, we—meaning the good guys, or the handful of us who survived, anyway—adopted a new one.”

“What made them so bad? Well, besides the war thing.”

A glowing ball of light zooms closer to us, hovering above Kye’s shoulder, and its lavender-pink light blinks a few times. The rest of the forest inhabitants continue to move slowly, as if each step and sway of limb is part of an ancient dance.

Kye answers, “They found a way to steal powers from others. Not just humans—animals too. And steal them they did. Often. Two things happened. First, the person from whom they took the power usually died, turning over the span of years left in their life to the thief. So, the more powers the members of the Dark Elen stole, the longer they could live. But then the powers got hard to control, making the already scary people even more dangerous. Besides being nearly
immortal, they were—are—very, very difficult to defeat. Almost impossible, actually.”

Alena and her partner fly past us with an unnerving speed that contrasts the slow movements of the other creatures. They stop in front of us and Kye bows again before the pair spins off, this time far enough that the mist evaporates. All at once, the rest of the creatures begin a sluggish migration toward the edges of the clearing.

Not wanting them to leave, I reach for a nearby creature. “Wait!” His deep green skin feels cool and slick, like grass on a summer evening. His eyes are the color of blueberries and unusually large. “Where are you going? Don’t leave yet.”

Kye smiles and takes my wrist, urging me to let go. “Don’t worry, they’re not leaving.”

“What are they doing?

He pulls me to Alena’s cooking pit. “It takes a lot of energy for a faery to stay visible to human eyes. They need to save it for the party.” The sprite hovering next to Kye’s shoulder bumps into him repeatedly. He turns, exasperated. “Fine, I’ll take it off the fire.”

Kye lifts the spit and uses a forked stick to push the roasted vegetables into Alena’s basket, then picks up a piece of asparagus and holds it out to me. “Taste.”

I open my mouth and take a bite when Kye holds the tender stalk against my tongue. The seedy tip explodes in my mouth and the taste of all things green—things grown wild without pesticides or chemicals—slides down my throat, warms my stomach, and clears my mind of questions. “Wow. That’s really good.”

Kye throws his head back, laughing. “Yeah, the faeries are excellent cooks. I’m usually not a big fan of veggies, but ...” He waves the forked stick in a circle. “There’s nothing like these.”

I hold my hand out for more, so Kye breaks a tiny zucchini in half and offers me a piece. Each savory bite makes my tongue tingle. Bite after bite, I chew slowly to make it last as long as possible. I become aware of a sound so sweet and soft I have to ask Kye if he hears it too.

“It’s the song of the faeries,” he says. “They love to sing. I’m surprised you’ve never heard them before.”

He pulls me into his arms and we sway, stepping side to side and back and forth. I know there was something I wanted to say, questions
I should ask, but I can’t force my thoughts to gel together. His hand slides to my waist, my feet move with his, and before I realize what’s happening, I’m dancing with Kye to the rhythm of faery song. The volume swells. “If they sing this loud every night, I’m surprised a lot of people haven’t heard them,” I say.

“I bet lots of people have heard faery music in their lifetime. They just don’t know what it is.”

“Good point. If I hadn’t seen them with my own eyes, I wouldn’t, either.” I lean my head against his chest, about to close my eyes, when he tips my chin up. “Look at that.” All around us, tiny glimmering lights flicker like fireworks that don’t die. I lean my head on Kye’s chest again, inhaling the scent of woodsy cologne and faery forest that clings to his clothes, but this time I keep my eyes open.

Time slips away as Kye holds me. “Whatever happens in my life, I’ll never, ever forget this night.”

He shakes his head. “Neither will I. Not in this life or the next.” He slides his finger under my chin and brings his lips to mine, soft, experimental at first, but more demanding as I lean into him. Our racing hearts stutter, merging like we’ve been waiting to find each other our whole lives. Kye smiles against my lips, and I know he feels it too. He takes a shaky breath and leans in again, this time harder, more demanding as we melt together. I match his fervor until my ring glows with power, bright as the summer sun. “Wow,” Kye says, rubbing his chest with his hand and staring at my ring. “I wonder what that means.”

I shake my head, breathless. “No idea.”

The faery lights fade and the black sky lightens to navy. Kye looks at his watch and cringes. “We should get going. It’s after four in the morning.”

“Four? Are you sure?” Heat floods my face, but I turn to look one last time at what I’ll always think of as the faery clearing. “We’re in so much trouble.” And I’m not just talking about staying out all night.