The Phoinix: Age of Demigods (11 page)

The soldiers followed their leaders in
thanking Cailean. They took turns walking up to shake his hand, pat
his back, and bow their heads in respect. Cailean humbly thanked
them for their gesture, but inside his inner child performed
summersaults.

Remus walked over to the throne room
doors and placed his hand in the middle where the two doors
met.

From behind him, Brian eyed him
suspiciously and asked, “What are you thinking Remus?”

“I am thinking there is one more spell
we can try.” Remus looked determined.

“Do tell,” the brothers curiously said
in unison.

“The connection my brother and I
share. Since we can feel what the other feels, I believe we might
be able to share thoughts as well, or at least view the same
thoughts together.”

“What do you mean?” Brian asked
cautiously.

“I mean that with your help I might be
able to reach Romulus one last time. Instead of just dredging up
old emotions through talking, I can make him remember with me,”
Remus explained and pointed to his head.

“You were able to feel what the other
felt because your hands were in the same place at the same time. In
order to accomplish what you are talking about, the two of you need
to be in the exact same place. Neither of you could move for this
to work. And with the time spell Cailean casted, you would be
trapping Romulus for hours to your minutes,” explained Brian,
unsure if the spell would work or be worth the pain it would cause
his friend.

“We could immobilize them both,
“Cailean added, “by holding Remus against the spot of the wall
where Romulus stands with a simple binding spell.”

“Brian, we have to try everything we
can. Our people are all in jeopardy here,” Remus pleaded. “If we
spare any lives today, it is worth it.”

“I agree with Remus. It would be a
shame to let anything happen to that pretty face of yours,” Cailean
said and lightly tapped Brian’s cheek.

Brian shook his brother off. “If you
want to go through that emotional toll, I will help.”

Smiling, Remus clapped his hands
loudly and rubbed them together. “Let’s have a go, shall
we?”

Chapter 9

Fairies of the
Alder

A
lina bit her lip to stop from crying as Lysandros jostled her
while sprinting through the secret passage. She pressed hard with
both hands on the wound in her abdomen to staunch the bleeding.
This was no time to be vain, but she felt self-conscious of her
disheveled appearance. Her silver shirt was torn and bloody from
her fight. She was angry with her husband for ordering the guards
to take her away. If he had not given the order, that guard would
not have stabbed her.

A kind and tender woman, being angry
with her husband sickened Alina. A knot had grown in her stomach
since she left the throne room. She feared that she might never
again see her husband and home.

“Hold on, Your Highness. I’m trying to
get out of this mess, but there’s no light.” Lysandros tried to
sound reassuring, but the dark and damp hallway that smelled like
rotting sewage did little to encourage him.

Crack!

A noise like a whip echoed through the
passage. Suddenly, the torches along the grey wall lit up their
path. Lysandros looked down at Alina with the firelight flickering
in her hazel eyes. He never noticed the flecks of gold shining
brightly back at him. He expected to see her pale and cringing in
pain, but instead she was smiling…no, she was laughing at him.
Lysandros stood in awe of the queen. Even after being stabbed and
torn from her home, she kept her humor.

“Was that you?” Lysandros asked with a
crooked smile.

“Who else are you
expecting?”

He breathed a small laugh at her smart
remark. “I see you still have your powers, Majesty,” Lysandros said
continuing his descent through the hallway.

Alina rolled her eyes. “How many times
do I have to tell you to address me by my name?”

“I do not know to what you are
referring,” Lysandros smirked.

Alina winced. “Don’t make me laugh,
Lys. Although, if I’m going to die, it may as well be because I
laughed my way to death.”

“Alright, no more jokes. I’ll be as
serious as the Athenian Plague.”

“Promises, promises.” Alina pressed
her head deeper in Lysandros’ chest to hide her smile.

“While we are being serious, my Quee…”
Lysandros caught himself, “Alina, how much of your powers do you
still have?”

“Enough to get us to where we need to
go. My powers have been leaving me since I was stabbed. I can call
for a ride to get us to the Forest of Slàinte. Just get me outside
the confines of the palace.”

“Almost there.”

Lysandros quickened his pace and held
Alina tighter so as not to put her in more pain. Anyone outside the
royal family and the o’Conaills who attempted to escape in the
tunnels would be lost for days. However, since Lysandros built the
tunnels with Remus he knew them better than most, although he could
not help but think Alina magically influenced his
direction.

Finally, after what seemed like an
hour since their escape, they reached the outer door of the palace.
Lysandros kicked the door, busting it off its hinges, and then
jogged to the protective cover of the trees.

As he carried Alina past the first
tree, he heard rustling of leaves and the sound of branches
breaking. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the
trees move together and create a wall that shielded them from
attackers.

“You shouldn’t fear nature, least not
while you are with me,” Alina responded to Lysandros’ wide-eyed,
frightened look. “Quickly, prop me up against the nearest
tree.”

Lysandros placed her in between two
large tree roots protruding from the moss-covered ground. He
stepped away, surveying the damage done by the sword. The wound in
the middle of her abdomen still profusely bled.

“Lysandros, fetch me those roots over
there, the brown and green ones. Then next to them, under the Ivy
there should be small purple flowers. Pick the petals,” Alina said
pointing to all the ingredients.

Alina pulled her dagger from her boot
and dug at the side of the tree. When Lysandros returned, she made
a small mixing bowl from the tree’s bark. She pointed to a small
brook on her right, a brook Lysandros could have sworn was not
there when they arrived.

“Lys, fill the bowl a quarter of the
way up and then place the petals and roots in the
water.”

As he filled the bowl, the water
sparkled. However, no light could shine through the trees’ thick
canopies. By the time he returned, the ingredients were a mushy
lump of browns and purples. He handed her the makeshift bowl and
stood back, unsure of what Alina was about to do.

Laughing at Lysandros’ weariness of
her magic, Alina took her knife and mashed the ingredients into a
fine paste. She then cut a long thick strip of her shirt and handed
it to Lysandros.

“
Will you hand me that
moss? Careful not to crush the ends,” Alina instructed.

Lysandros went to fetch the moss. When
he returned, he watched Alina intently as she smeared the paste
over her wound. He had never seen an herbal remedy of this nature.
She then pressed a clump of moss deep into the paste-covered slit
in her stomach. She winced at the pain, which made Lysandros wince
sympathetically.

Alina sat up, beckoning Lysandros with
the strip of cloth. “I need you to wrap this as tightly as you can
around my waist. The paste and pressure should help control the
bleeding.”

“Will it heal you?” Lysandros asked as
he wrapped her stomach.

“No, not completely.” She lifted her
arm for Lysandros to help her up.

Lysandros swung her arm around his
neck and grasped her waist. With his free hand, he moved her
strawberry-blonde hair away her eyes. She smiled back at him,
making him blush. He always knew she was beautiful, but he had
never been this close or alone with the Queen.

“Alright, what now?” Lysandros asked
with a touch of airiness in his voice.

A cunning smile appeared on Alina’s
face. Lysandros knew that look. It was an adventurous look most
people did not want to see from her.

“I’m not going to enjoy this, am I?”
Lysandros said.

Alina chuckled and snapped her fingers
again. Mist billowed around the large tree trunks and engulfed
them. Trotting towards the pair was a large white stallion with
jet-black hair. She held out her arm towards the steed. He nestled
against her hand then nudged Lysandros’ shoulder in
approval.

“How do you have all these powers? I
thought your powers were stripped once you married
Remus?”

Alina laughed again. “You shouldn’t
believe everything you hear, Lysandros. It is true that some of my
powers have dissipated over time, but the Gàidheal council could
not strip the powers of my bloodline. This is Whisper. He is a
Pwca, an animal spirit that guards my bloodline.”

Whisper reared in
impatience.

Alina sighed, “I know, I know. We must
hurry. We have to get to the Forest of Slàinte.”

Whisper lay down so Lysandros could
help Alina onto his back. Lysandros then climbed behind her so she
would not fall during their journey. Alina traced a U shape around
Whisper’s neck and silver reins appeared long enough for Lysandros
to grasp. He created a circular wall of reins and arms around the
injured queen.

Alina entwined her fingers in
Whisper’s black hair and patted the horse, signaling Whisper to
take off. The horse stood in a smooth, effortless motion and then
pawed at the ground. Alina leaned back into Lysandros, allowing his
body to support hers. His muscles tensed, trying to be strong for
her.

Before Lysandros knew it, they were
moving at a pace so fast that they could not make out the scenery
around them. It was a beautiful blur of greens, blues, browns, and
purples. He heard laughter in the distance but could not place its
origin. He then felt Alina’s shoulders jostle against his chest and
realized it was Alina’s laugh. The queen was enjoying herself as if
all her pain had disappeared.

They came to a halt five minutes into
their journey. It was a smooth transition from sprinting to walking
through a forest of Apple and Alder trees. Large, golden apples
hung from the branches. The canopy of the Alder trees sparkled with
white and red lights. The colors of green foliage, gold apples, and
twinkling red and white lights should have clashed, but somehow
they created a peaceful atmosphere. Being a political man in charge
of keeping peace during Remus’ reign, Lysandros usually had a way
with words. However, admiring his surroundings, he was
speechless.

Lysandros jumped down to help Alina
dismount. She inhaled sharply, wincing at Lysandros’ touch. The rag
around her waist was soaked in fresh blood. Her remedy was not
taking effect. Seeing the Queen in so much pain twisted a knot in
Lysandros’ stomach. He needed to protect her, to save
her.

Once on the ground, Alina flicked her
wrist and a carrot appeared in her hand for Whisper. She rubbed the
soft area of his nose and the reins disintegrated as he gnawed on
his treat. Whisper’s ears perked up and he turned his head back
towards the Etruscan palace at Aventine Hill.

“Go, you have to protect her,” Alina
rubbed Whisper’s soft nose.

Whisper whinnied and then took off.
Alina tried to look up towards the tree’s canopies when a stabbing
pain shot through her body. She collapsed, short of breath, but
Lysandros was there to catch her.

“Well, aren’t you my hero today?”
Alina smirked at the distraught soldier holding her up.

“I am whatever you need me to be,
Alina.” Lysandros propped Alina up against the trunk of the Alder
tree and surveyed its canopy, “What are those lights?”

“Those are the Fairies of
the Alder.” Alina said before she whispered in her native tongue,
“
Ó na fréamhacha thíos go dtí na duilleoga
ar barr, a ligean am mall a nochtadh ar barr
Fearnóg
.”

As soon as she finished, time slowed
down around them. A deer in the background gracefully pawed at the
dirt and leaves moved at a turtles pace. Their environment was a
slow motion scene where every fleck of dirt could be seen flying in
the wind. Even the air seemed to leisurely roll by them.

“Please do explain why you slowed
time.” Lysandros was always apprehensive about magic.

“Why are you worried? A spell so
easily cast is easily broken. And they are why I slowed time,” said
Alina, pointing up at the Alder’s branches.

“What in the name of Zeus have you
done?” Lysandros, born and bred to be a stoic Greek warrior, was
not a man easily shocked. However, what he witnessed was enough to
scare anyone. Instead of the white and red sparkling lights, there
were white and red miniature people flying in and out of the tree
limbs, lounging on the thick curved leaves, and eating the red
berries off the branches.