History of Fire (11 page)

November 22nd, 1702

The Pyren is almost complete, hidden beneath our home. I have started the transfer of the mass of trunks filled with scrolls and magical objects I hid in the barn until the Pyren was completed. The move should be completed before the snow becomes too harsh and it becomes impossible to leave the house.

I hope to continue to add to the collection for future generations of our family. The winter will be long this year, so I will have plenty of time to catch up on writing spells in a grimoire which have worked well for me, old and new. My wife has also started her own grimoire while instructing the children to keep one for themselves. I even coerced my father to begin one, to fill it with all the knowledge of his days.

~Brendan

The house appeared past the thicket of evergreens and lush pines of the forest surrounding our home. I wasn’t prepared for the amount of exhilaration I’d feel seeing it come into my line of vision. I’d missed it. How could I have stayed away so long? So far, there was no sign of Oran’s tribe, which made me suspect they were staying away from the wards placed around my family’s house.

Relieved to discover the house and the Pyren safe and intact, I wanted to holler out with joy. Running the last few dusty concrete steps up the creaky porch, I slipped my key into the slot, twisting it as fast as possible before yanking open the door. It was dark, cool and somewhat musty inside. I flipped the lights on and frowned at the astounding layer of dust all over the place. Mom probably hadn’t taken the time to place an enchantment to keep it off everything, but that was of little to no consequence. I already knew the spell from reading her grimoire. Funny how she had a whole chapter of housekeeping spells but rarely used them. Her writing had been humorous, and I was surprised to find I loved to read about her life before her memory had been altered. It’d been easy to absorb her nifty spells.

I reached into my pack and pulled out a small pack of herbal mix, crumbled into chunky powder. I’d only need a pinch to make the spell ignite. Whispering into my hands, I rubbed the tiny dried leaves into dust with my fingers, feeling the magic amplifying as my magic bonded the spell to the herbs. Magic was a natural thing, tied to the environment, whether by air, earth, water or fire. This was a simple spell meant to keep a place tidy enough to live in without much effort.

I held the dust of herbs out in the palm of my hand and blew it into the room, letting it dissipate before I lit it on fire with a puff of breath from my mouth. It ignited like a flash bomb, and a moment later, the place was immaculate, the way it’d been when Mom was still there. That thought brought water to my eyes, and I wiped it stealthily away before I headed over to plop onto the couch.

The others, Nautilus, Nyol and Paki, entered after observing me performing the spell. They’d waited quietly behind me and had let me do my thing without interruption. That made them pretty cool in my book. The solemn expressions on their faces never exposed what they really felt while in working mode. That was fine with me, but it made me feel like I was surrounded by robots.

I missed Sary and Braelynn with an unanticipated vengeance. They provided much needed animation to the people around them, like adding color to a grey world, painting it with every hue of the rainbow. Now I knew what drew everyone to them so much. That’s what they were, vibrancy in a dark, dismal world. These guys looked like grey, rusty automatons in comparison. What do men do without women? It amused me to think that we ever survived without them.

Zena flew back into my thoughts, bringing a smile to my lips. I wanted to see her again, but it’d have to wait. I pulled off my boots and stretched my sore toes, grimacing from the pain. I’d have to soak them with some magical herbs to heal the blisters forming. That and fix my shoes; the soles were getting far too thin.

“My men will make camp outside within the dome,” Nyol stated. “I’ll send out scouts to find the location of Oran’s camp. Anything changes, let me know.” He turned to leave, with Paki right at his heels. The ex-queen’s son was young but a loyal second lieutenant to Shade. It’d been strange to find he’d been so willing to serve Shade after she had his mother’s memory wiped. The former queen had opposed giving the crown back to my sister, the rightful heir. If it irked him in any way to serve under my sister’s rule, he didn’t show it. Maybe he was just grateful she’d spared his mother’s life.

I leaned back against the squishy cushions of the couch. Nothing felt better than to be home. We’d lived there my entire life, and though at one point it had felt confining, now I couldn’t think of a better place to be. Shade would probably never return; her home was the Scren Palace. Anna would probably remain at her side until she married. What of my younger brother James? I didn’t know about him. He might join me once he was old enough to train harder. I wouldn’t entrust anyone else to train him besides my sisters or myself. In the meantime, he’d stay safe within the Scren walls. It was far too dangerous to return home without protection.

So there I was, by myself in my childhood home. I guess it was mine in a way. I sighed and stood up, walking over to the hall where the door to the basement stood. It looked like any old door, and even the basement would pass the scrutiny of an intruder. Only a magically inclined person would feel the wards around the hidden door in the basement. Only one who was meant to know it was there would be able to open it.

As I headed down the steps and through the basement to the bare wall against the west side of the room, I gave it a good examination, pressing my magic into it. Eventually, it morphed under my stare, slowly melting away its glamour to reveal the ancient wooden door beneath, the barrier to my family’s Pyren.

I touched the knob, and the magic fused with mine, welcoming me and humming happily to finally see someone from my bloodline returned. Did the magic get lonely? I couldn’t be sure, but it was very much alive, and I wouldn’t doubt it. Pushing the ancient door and entering, it was almost overwhelming to stand within the Pyren. It filled me up, like I’d been drained and hollowed out without realizing how amazing it could feel filling my reservoir right back up.

I exhaled, letting the power buzz through my veins, relishing it. I’d have to make sure James and Anna returned every now and then for the same fill up. It was too good to miss out on.

I closed the door behind me. I hadn’t thought much about what the others were doing upstairs. I was pretty sure they were setting up dinner in my mother’s kitchen. I was famished but could wait for a few more minutes. I was anxious to do some reading. If Braelynn’s spell worked, I’d be done with every grimoire in the room within a day and would be able to retain all the spells. It was time to get started.

***

January 10th, 1703

There is no way of telling who is in charge now that our leader, my father Bartholomew, has died. The sickness took him quickly, and my fears of it having come from enchantment poisoning become more real each day. My mother is devastated. She refuses to eat or sleep. As luck would have it, my sister Sarah is taking care of her but fears she’ll soon follow in my father’s steps.

How do I avenge them when I do not know who has done this to us? My hatred grows daily. This tragedy must be stopped. The creature in the woods is responsible. I know it. If only I could find a way to stop her, make her pay and finally avenge my family. If it is the last thing we do, we will discover the origins of this dark magic and turn it back to its source before it is too late for us all.

~Brendan

***

I closed the ancient pages of the grimoire. It was the most intriguing of them all. Even when I had finished the rest of them, it was this one which beckoned me the most. I found Brendan’s account so much more interesting, and it dwelled in my mind long after I’d read through the other grimoires. All that was left for me to read were the scrolls, but I was skeptical of my newfound ability to read them. I should have asked Braelynn more about the ancient language, but she’s faery, and my ancestors were elemental witches, so I doubted she would know much more than I did. I was sure the language was not shared with other magics, so my hope of finding someone else to truly understand how to use the lost language was close to hopeless.

Still, as I peered at the pile, they called to me as if urging me to unroll them and learn their secrets. If I wasn’t so tired out and worn out, I would’ve. Instead, I decided to call it a night.

I went up the steps, and the darkness outside told me it was late. I would have come up earlier for dinner, but I’d been engrossed in reading. Still, I wasn’t left disappointed because I found a grand feast still going on in my absence. It was late evening, so dinner wasn’t quite over yet. Nyol had produced meat, fruit, rolls and a variety of other foods. I was impressed. It was no small feat keeping it all fresh and shrunken into a pack. Braelynn most certainly had something to do with that, and it made me overwhelmingly grateful she had helped us out.

“Everything good?” Nautilus waved me over, and I grabbed a pear from a wavering tower of fruit and bit down into it before heading over. I made a bitter face as the juice ran over my lips and down my chin. Faeries loved their fruit so sweet. I felt a cavity blooming from it.

“Yeah. All’s well here. Did you find Oran’s camp yet?”

The merman Teleen faery pressed his lips together, looking disappointed. “No. We’ve searched a half mile perimeter without any luck. It must be farther out.”

I nodded. “I wonder where the heck it is if it’s not within a stone’s throw from this house? What if Lorell lied to us?”

Nautilus chewed thoughtfully on some dried jerky. Apparently, the Teleen enjoyed a more varied diet than Sary’s and Braelynn’s people did. His face was calm, as if nothing but an atomic explosion could upset him. I hardly knew the guy, but I wished he wasn’t a prospect for my sister Anna. Still, as long as I didn’t have to watch him follow her or Shade around like a lost puppy, he seemed like an all right kind of guy.

“I suspect it’s nearby but well camouflaged. No doubt Oran felt the magic from your home and didn’t want to fool with it. A most wise decision. Faeries avoid the elementals like the plague.”

I lifted an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Really? I didn’t know that.” Thinking over what he’d said, it seemed reasonable. “I guess the wards are stronger than I thought. We were amateurs when Shade and I helped my mother lay down the barrier. Even then,” I scratched my head and finished my pear, tossing the core in the trash, “Corb was able to get through it. What keeps Oran out?”

“Corb is an Ancient. He didn’t get through it, he made Shade come through by telekinetically freezing your family unless she gave herself up. Oran isn’t that powerful. Not much bothers the Ancients.”

“True,” I agreed. “Still, I should reinforce the wards before we leave. I learned a lot from the grimoires downstairs and can apply some of the spells to strengthen the wards and keep the place safe forever.”

Nautilus nodded, engrossed in a raunchy show on the TV set past the kitchen in the living room. Focusing on it for a moment, I almost choked on my own spit. It was a reality show, one of those which had some famous family of women prancing about and talking with valley girl voices in the middle of L.A. They were rich, and the show was pretty much about their daily lives, bored with their luxurious surroundings. Yes, they were beautiful women, but I couldn’t relate to their lavish lifestyle and didn’t find them appealing enough for my liking. We’d been a middle class family—sometimes on the edge of poverty—when I was growing up. We weren’t dirt poor and managed to scrape by, but it hadn’t been easy. My parents always managed to have enough. Even after my father died, somehow my mother kept it all together.

There went my memory, rolling through the years again. Remembering never made me feel upbeat. I swatted the thoughts away before heading toward the fridge to grab a soda. Opening it and finding none, my heart sank. I’d have to make a run to the convenience store several blocks down the road. I’d forgotten that faeries never drank the stuff. It was one thing I cherished from the human world, and I was craving it like nothing else.

Well, shoot.

Peeking my head out of the kitchen, I found Nyol discussing some battle techniques with his underlings. I cleared my throat to interrupt, but they didn’t notice.

“Hey, guys!” The group quieted down and turned to face me. I waved and smirked. “I’m going for a soda run. Anyone want to join me?”

Nyol pressed his mouth tight while Paki took one look at me and turned to his leader. “I’ll go with him. He’ll need protection.”

“Excuse me?” I laughed. “I don’t need to be babysat. I was just asking if anyone else wanted to get something from the store.”

Nyol’s expression relaxed as he straightened. “Of course, we didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just … reinforcements would be nice to have in case you need them.” He nodded toward Paki, and the warrior immediately donned his external glamour to appear more human.

His rich brown skin stayed the same color, but his features were less sharp as the magic smoothed out his face, making him appear even younger. His dark eyes were now more humanlike, without the enlarged insect eyes of a faery. His clothes warped into something I would definitely wear: a hoodie, a grey T-shirt, jeans and sneakers. I gave him an approving nod. At least they’d done their homework on human attire.

“Let’s go.”

“So … what’s your deal?” I asked, figuring it would be a good way to break the ice with Paki. The sidewalk was, for the most part, abandoned, and I had an eerie sense of dÉjÀ vu creeping along my skin. Keeping my eyes peeled, I scanned the surrounding woods.

He tilted his head toward me, looking confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”

I stifled a laugh and shook my head, grinning to myself. “Well … it’s Paki, right? I’ve heard of you. Your mother was queen before my sister. She didn’t want to give up the throne to her, the rightful heir. What did you think about all that?” I eyed him in my periphery and waited. If I had rubbed him the wrong way, oh well. I didn’t really care. If I hadn’t, it’d be interesting to hear what he had to say.

Paki didn’t look my way but kept his eyes trained ahead. The only emotion he let slip out was the slight tension in his jaw as he thought about how to answer me.

“Shade is the rightful queen. She’s merciful and forgiving. I’m pleased that she allowed my mother to live.”

“That’s it?”

Paki turned his small beady eyes toward me. “Should there be more?”

The iciness in his voice told me all I needed to know. There was nothing left to do but give him a lopsided grin before I slapped him on the back, chuckling as I shook my head. “It’s all good.”

“What’s all good?”

He definitely needed to get out of the Land of Faerie more often.

“It’s just an expression, man. Just saying, no worries.”

Paki still looked baffled at my unfamiliar jargon, but I let it go, for we’d arrived at the convenience store at the end of my neighborhood. I motioned for him to follow, but he shook his head and pointed to the sidewalk out front. If he wanted to wait outside, it wouldn’t bother me any. I shrugged and pushed the glass door open, feeling the heavenly blast of frigid air cooling my skin. The guy really never relaxed, did he? How someone could be in guard mode every second of every single day, I couldn’t understand. It had to be exhausting. But soldiers of Faerie were different than the human kind. They were born and bred for the job.

A bell rung as I let the door whoosh open. I glanced about; the store looked deserted. I figured the clerk was out back and headed to grab a twelve pack of soda from the stacks near the rear of the store. I returned to the counter and found it still deserted.

“Hello?”

A rustling noise from the back made me hyperaware that the place was just too quiet. I could make out the clicking of the ice machine as it whirred back on and the rolling pins where the hotdogs rotated. The hotdogs looked old and shriveled. Even the bins of condiments looked stale.

I placed the pack onto the counter and readied myself. Something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t pin down exactly what it was.

“Anyone here?” I hollered toward the back of the store. The rustling finally stopped, and I heard hurried footsteps approaching from the rear storeroom. Finally, a tall lanky man hopped out, his long arms looking ridiculously oversized next to his skinny body. Thick, black-rimmed glasses and shaggy brown hair framed his face and bugged out his eyes through the lenses.

“Sorry about that … had to fix the ice machine, man. Hey, if you’re needing an Icee, it won’t be ready for at least … thirty minutes.” He shoved away at the mess of frizzy locks sticking to his pockmarked face as he barreled through the side entry of the counter and began to punch in his code on the register. He flicked his eyes to the case of soda. “Will that be all?”

I nodded and would’ve relaxed, but the guy kept flicking his eyes toward the back of the store and radiated nervous energy like he was tweaking or something. I tossed a real ten dollar bill before scooping up the twelve pack and held out a hand for the change. I had to get back to the house immediately; something was off. The air was vibrating with an unusual current that made my magical senses perk up.

Pocketing the change, I turned toward the doors and pushed them open with a shoulder. Paki wasn’t on the sidewalk anymore, which caught me off-guard. Where the hell had he gone? As I scanned the parking lot, I realized no one was around, an unusual occurrence since it was the only convenience store for miles.

Draping a thick curtain of glamour over myself, I summoned my Empyrean blade and held it out. I bet I looked bad ass with a box of soda under one arm and a fiery sword in the other hand. I spotted movement to my left and headed over, seeing Paki’s silhouette as the woods opened up. The convenience store sat in the middle of a small dug-out clearing at the side of a road. Usually it was pretty busy with business from the surrounding cabins and isolated houses, but this evening, it was deserted. The air around us was thick with something. It charged the wind, making it feel like there were voices traveling across the air. It had me sniffing as it stung my eyes and nose.

“Paki. See anything?”

He didn’t answer, and I turned to see what he was looking at. A subtle growl filled his throat, thrumming under the noise of the wind, which was now tossing debris across the parking lot like a mini tornado. The dust slung up into the air and got in my eyes, forcing me to place the box of soda on the asphalt so I could rub at them. I continued to scan the edge of the forest, filling with dread. Something was watching us. Its sinister aura filled my senses with malice and whispered in my ears.

Fire elemental, we’ve been waiting for you.
A voice formed from nothing, and I jerked at its proximity. Paki must’ve heard it, too, because he immediately took off running toward it.

“Hey, where are you going? Really?” I yelled after him. Groaning, I crept near the edge of the forest where the thick briars and undergrowth snarled out beyond the forest and crawled across the parking lot, like the woods wanted to swallow up the clearing. All I’d wanted was a blasted soda and this was what I got? Whoever was lurking about sure had impeccable timing.

“Perfect,” I grunted, breathing in deeply to ready myself for an attack. I hopped over a parking divider and ran into the trees, keeping my eyes open for the intruders. Whoever was there didn’t show themselves, but continued to shove the air about me like a violent storm. I swung at saplings clogging up the way and slowing me down. The forest was thick, and the canopy swallowed up the light above as clouds rolled in, looking tumultuous and angry.

“Paki!” I yelled out, aware I might attract the wrong people by announcing my position. I didn’t care. I was aching for another fight anyway. The last one had ended suddenly, and I regretfully hadn’t gotten to hack that obnoxious night elf Cornelius into a gazillion little pieces before he got away. There was just so much I could do for that kind of pent up aggravation.

Paki didn’t answer. Nothing echoed my call in that lonely place.

The sword’s hilt felt warm against my grip, and I listened to the surrounding noises filling the forest. Tiny birds chirped distantly, but none announced themselves nearby. A toad croaked beyond, making me think there was water nearby. Every rustle had me jerking; I was so ready to kick ass. More than ready. I wanted to feel the heat of the fire within burning through the carcasses of the enemy as I laid havoc to this Unseelie army that had taken up residence in my neighborhood. I was made for this. Even from the beginning of time, according to what I’d read in the grimoires, our kind were perfect hunters of the supernatural. A perfect harmonious fusion of humanity and magic.

The wind died suddenly, along with everything else. An eerie silence joined the stillness of the trees, as if they’d frozen to watch a show. It was like someone had hit the pause button in the forest. The hairs on the back of my neck stood tall while I let my eyes wander across the trees, scanning the area over and over again, listening hard.

But there was nothing.

This left me with a twisted knot in my stomach. The quiet was less than comforting. It was as deafening as the sounds preceding it. Everything was too still, perfectly frozen. Only the fragrance of damp wood, rotting vegetation and a slight ozone scent from the thickening clouds above kept me company. Even so, the air smelled a little off, like there was a sour contaminant nearby, getting closer and closer with every passing moment.

The snap of a twig behind me made me turn in a blur of motion, holding my sword out with its flickering orange flames lighting up the area around me as the sky darkened and the glamour faded away, revealing cackling warriors pressing around me, laughing as they gathered closer together, holding out their crude weapons in their filthy grips.

They shoved Paki at me, and I barely caught him as he stumbled forward. He was missing his sword, and an Unseelie soldier mocked him while waving the flashing metal weapon at us, signaling that it was now his. Paki straightened with my help but still wobbled. A sticky trickle of blood marked the side of his face where they had hit him. I shook my head. Damn fool to run into the forest alone. Damn rooky mistake.

“We’ve been waiting for you, elemental,” a deep voice boomed, and the warriors fell silent. They continued to jeer and whisper when the voice didn’t sound again, snickering at our situation. I held out my sword, ready to release the weakened Paki if they came any closer.

“Why the hell would you be waiting for me? You made me miss out on a perfectly good box of soda. That’s totally not cool, dude.” I spun as the group behind me shifted, with some of them giving little coughs and snickers. I scowled at them. “So who’s in charge of this mess?”

The smiles fell into frowns, matching my own. My confidence swelled, seeing how easy it was to insult them. Damn Unseelie. I’d seen plenty of them at the Withering Palace. I had successfully snuck into it and pretended I wanted to join up with them. My sister’s faery magic had helped cover up my “vile” human scent. The thought made me chuckle, because humans didn’t generally stink as badly as Unseelie Sluagh warriors.

There were all sorts of characters here. Some of the Unseelie escapees were short and stocky, others were tall and skeletal, while others still were moderately sized and wide. Many others were banished Seelie, never again to be a part of the bright court my sister Shade now headed. The Seelie were more concerned with appearances and tended to take better care of themselves in the grooming department. They were generally tall and slender with elongated dark eyes like flies, long wispy hair and porcelain skin. They also kept themselves immaculately clean with crisp garments and fragrant perfumes. Here, the banished were untidy, dirty, disheveled and some even appeared affected by iron sickness—withering, crumbling and weak. The stronger ones overpowered the weaker ones and kept them in order.

Even the uglier more demon-like creatures of the Sluagh had some sort of ranking system in place. The trolls, with their moldy, cheese-textured skin, kept their underlings fed and taken care of, even when they smacked them around. The goblins were the most meticulous of the Unseelie, with their bulging eyes, froglike legs and pasty blue-grey coloring that made it look like someone had rolled over them with a huge chalkboard eraser powdered in dust. They were the ones who looked proud to be Unseelie with their brightly colored clothes painted with symbols to represent what clan they originated from. Their heights varied, like their gene pool couldn’t decide if it wanted to grow taller to match the height of humans or keep compact to hide better in the forests. I had to give it to them, they were all viciously evil.

Scores of Sluagh filled the ranks and snarled at us, including some Draeliks—my personal least favorites—night elves and other ghoulish sights. Yet even with their numbers, the main ones—the Sidhe—also commanded the entirety of the armies of the Unseelie, a tradition which was followed in the Seelie ranks as well. It just depended on what side of Faerie and whose bloodline you were born into.

A murmur fluttered through the crowd, and I narrowed my eyes at the moving body heading our way through the mass of warriors. He was halfway through the crowd, so I peered over toward Paki, who was finally standing on his own.

“You okay, man?” I asked. Paki nodded, looking pissed to all hell. I reached into my pack and summoned an extra sword—a non-magical one. It was pure hard American steel from a sword smith I’d met in Texas. When I saw his workmanship, it wasn’t a hard decision to buy one from him. Now I handed the precious metal to Paki, a warrior of my sister’s court, without hesitation. I knew he wouldn’t leave my side again, not until we were safe. Whoever was coming was going to be the one we needed to speak to. Maybe it would be Oran or someone who could take us to him. That, or they’d order our execution.

Either way, we’d go out fighting. No better way to die.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he finally answered as he graciously accepted the sword. He wiped the blood from his face and grimaced to find that it had clotted and was sticking to everything—his hands, the sleeve of his shirt—and had dried into his dark black hair as a tangled mass. Still, his light brown eyes looked fierce, and I was pretty sure that whoever faced him down now would realize he was prepared to deal them a swift, certain death.

The approaching figure broke through the ranks and entered the shrinking circle where we stood. He was a tall man, broad shouldered with tan skin and bright azure eyes. His hair lay in thin, woven braids laced with random ties of hemp string, beads and tiny objects. There was no mistaking the leader of the pack with his tall stance and an air of authority. The air trembled around him in tiny waves of power, like he was pushing out at those around him to keep his personal space intact.

He was rare descendant of Arthas, the Unseelie Ancient ruler of Faerie. Oran’s power was once dwarfed by Aveta, the now deceased queen of the Unseelie Realm. But now, with her gone, there was nothing keeping Oran from claiming the throne from the guardians my sister had assigned—Jack and Evangeline.

“Are you the brother of Shade, the halfling scum who’s taken my land?”

I scowled but tried to show no emotion as I gripped my Empyrean blade. The guy was pushing it if he planned to keep his head connected to his neck. “Well, isn’t it your lucky day? I sure the hell am!” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And don’t ever call my sister
scum
.”