Authors: Allana Kephart,Melissa Simmons
Tags: #romance, #Action, #Dark Fantasy, #resistance, #faeries, #Dystopian, #New adult, #allana kephart, #dolan prophecies series, #melissa simmons
“What did I just say?” the girl, Fianna, hisses.
“Sean, take a walk. Flint, help me with the girl. We have to
go.”
Sean’s face goes purple in fury when Fianna doesn’t
side with him. “Fi—” he begins, and she stares him down. Flint
still hasn’t moved, and I can tell from his body position he isn’t
scared of the man at all. This only seems to piss Sean off further,
and he lets out a groan and turns away; throwing his hands out in
frustration. Fianna turns her glare to Flint. “What happened?” she
repeats.
He just shrugs. “Sean had her by the hair with a
knife on her when I showed up. She got him in the face and then
fell.” He sticks his hands in his pockets and turns to me again,
watching me with mild curiosity. “She seems harmless, Fi,” he says,
studying me like a fine artifact. I squirm and move my eyes between
the two. The effects of the iron aren’t dissipating as much as I’d
like them to, what with Fianna’s armor on. The faery is unarmed
from what I can tell, and I have to wonder how he’s still upright
in the presence of these people.
“We’ll see,” Fianna retorts, her lips curling down.
The faery’s eyes break from mine and I see he’s watching her again,
totally enamored. He opens his mouth to say something and quickly
shuts it; looking heavenward, as if annoyed by his own thoughts.
Fianna, oblivious to his interest, stretches her neck and sighs.
“We better get going.”
Flint watches her pull a vial from her pocket and I
tense. I dig my nails into the dirt under my hand and try my
damnedest to pull myself up and away. It doesn’t matter that the
man is one of my own. He is conversing with humans — with
intelligent, armed humans — and I am simply a means to an end. My
movement almost causes an irritated flame to rise in Fianna’s eyes,
and she comes to kneel in front of me.
“Fi—” Flint says, stepping behind her, but she’s not
listening. She places a hand under my chin, her index finger digs
into the joint where my jaw meets my skull, and then she forces my
mouth open. She pours a concoction onto my tongue and I gag;
eucalyptus and herbs overpowering my senses. I yank away from her
and cough; turning my face away as I feel tears in my eyes, which
makes it hard to see. I don’t know what she slipped me, but I can
already feel the world getting foggy around the edges. I vaguely
wonder if I’ll ever witness another snowfall.
“I’m sorry,” Fianna says with an almost regretful
look before she stands, and Flint replaces her as she walks away,
surely to find the other man. I feel Flint’s hands on me, rolling
me onto my back, and I somehow breathe out, “Don’t kill me…”
Flint looks personally offended and shakes his head.
I see his lips moving but I’m too tired to comprehend the words
he’s saying. His eyes soften and he slides his arms under me as he
rises; holding me to his chest. I feel him breathing as my head
lulls into his chest, and as he starts to walk away from the scene
the darkness swallows me.
Chapter 15—Eirnin
July 2102
It’s a cloudless spring day and I hear the birds
chirping while a slight, sweet smelling breeze rustles through the
trees. I see a cream-colored house so huge it has to be considered
a mansion, with trees and gardens all around. The estate is huge
and well cared for by workers I’ve yet to see out and about. I’ve
had this dream before and I feel excitement gather in my stomach at
the knowledge of what comes next. I hear raised voices from inside
the house and then a door slams and she’s running; long,
white-blonde hair flying behind her like a flag waving in the
breeze. There is an old book clutched in her hand as she seeks
solace amongst a grouping of artistically placed shrubs a slight
distance away from the house. Her bare feet make no sound as they
pound against the ground, and I’m struck by the picture she
presents.
She is slight in stature, shorter even than Fi is,
but she dominates the scene whenever I dream of her. Her blue dress
is simple and falls to just above her knees, not overly girlish in
its slight frilliness. Her features are fine and almost doll-like
in their perfection, and her skin is an alabaster backdrop to the
midnight blue pools of her eyes. Beautiful isn’t a strong enough
word to describe her, in my opinion. Even when she’s sitting as she
is now, in the dirt with her knees drawn to her chest, she is
breathtaking to me. Her head rests on her knees as tears slide down
her face, and her pain lances through me. These dreams jumble my
emotions in such a huge way. I hate seeing her sadness, but can get
drunk from just looking at her face.
This little slip of a girl has me completely
captivated and I don’t even know her name. She sniffles and
something in my chest constricts as her shoulders shake with sobs.
I can feel the desperate need for escape, acceptance and love
coming off her in waves, and wish as I have each time I’ve had this
dream that I could take the loneliness away from her. I promise
myself that I will find her and bring her someplace where she can
find all she’s yearning for. I’m beginning to think that this girl,
whoever she is, will play a part in whatever I am supposed to
accomplish with the gifts I’ve been given. There will be some kind
of connection between the two of us; that much I know for sure. I
feel it already.
She sets her book down in the dirt, hides her face in
her hands and makes an angry noise in her throat. She uses her
hands to dash the tears from her face, looks off into the distance,
and her desire to be anywhere but there comes through loud and
clear. Her dark blue eyes are fierce; still shimmering with tears
as she drags her bottom lip between her teeth and looks over her
shoulder at the magnificent house she’s never felt at home in. I
wish I could tell her it will all be okay soon. I don’t know how I
know this, but I do. She won’t be stuck there forever.
I wake up with excess energy thrumming through my
veins – a combination of the girl from the dream and knowing my
sister will be back tonight. I lie on the bottom bunk in Aodhan’s
bedroom and let myself dwell on the beautiful, sad girl from my
dream. I began dreaming about her over a year ago; nothing
earth-shattering, just seemingly random snapshots into her life. I
believe she may be living at one of the Fae Courts right now. It’s
just a feeling I get when I try to probe my mind for answers to the
puzzle of her appearance in my dreams. I wish for the hundredth
time that I had some way of knowing when I’ll finally meet her.
Sadly, my gift doesn’t work that way. I’m not the most patient
person on the planet, and each of these dreams feels like someone
is taunting me with the endless possibilities.
My musings are interrupted when my cousin Neall
knocks on the door and pops his head inside. “Eir, Aodhan — Momma
says it’s time to wake up and have breakfast now.” His cherubic
face splits into a grin when he sees me lying there with my eyes
open, and I motion him over. He giggles and launches himself into
the bed, landing with a hard thump on my ribs. I let out an
exaggerated breath when he lands and pretend that he knocked the
wind out of me; groaning loudly.
“You’re getting too big to do that, buddy. One of
these days we’re gonna knock A’s bed down,” I tell him, and grin at
the happiness on his face at being called ‘too big’ for something.
As the youngest of my cousins, I’m sure he gets tired of being
treated like a baby by everyone. I ruffle his hair. “Go tell your
mom we’ll be right out, ’kay?” He runs off bellowing my message. I
chuckle and roll out of the bed and to my feet. I look at the top
bunk and see my cousin lying on his back with an arm thrown over
his head, his face covered by his pillow. Did I mention I snore
sometimes?
I’m just about to poke Aodhan in the ribs when I
hear, from under his pillow, “Dude, if you touch me I’ll break your
fingers.” I bite my tongue to hold in a chuckle. I forget sometimes
how well he knows me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. Time to
get up — I smell pancakes,” I tell him, and pull a tee shirt over
my head before pulling his door open to go join the rest of the
family for breakfast. I hear him mutter, “Liar,” as I pull the door
shut behind me and laugh.
I’m still hyped up after breakfast, maybe even more
than I was when I woke up. I’m not surprised though, since I drank
three cups of coffee and inhaled a tall stack of my aunt’s pancakes
and bacon for breakfast. Now I just have to fill the hours between
now and when Fi comes back without driving myself or anyone else
insane. I know when she returns, everything will change for me. I
don’t know if that will be good or bad, but part of me is looking
forward to the challenge. I amuse myself for a few hours by playing
a dozen or so games of Go Fish with Neall after helping my aunt
clean up the breakfast mess. He beat me soundly in more than half
of the games, and has now perfected his gloating face. He won’t
listen to my excuse that I don’t play this game nearly as often as
he does. Apparently that’s not a valid reason to suck in his
eyes.
I remember Fi playing card games with me for hours on
end when I was his age; her patience seemingly endless as I asked
question after question. I am becoming more anxious for her to
return home by the minute, and have decided I’m going to cause a
stink the next time she thinks about taking off and leaving me
behind. Our family is half the size it was a year ago, and I don’t
want to consider the possibility that it could shrink that way
again anytime soon. I know I won’t feel calm again until I see her
in front of me safe and sound and back where she belongs.
I decide my best bet for not driving anyone insane is
to stick with Neall for the day. He and I are both pretty easily
excited, and he isn’t the type to hold a grudge for more than five
minutes. I’d say we’re a perfect match today. I can’t seem to stop
my knees from bouncing up and down if I’m still for more than a
moment. Neall considers this the perfect opportunity to ride my
knee like it’s a horse, and I laugh with him as I bounce him up and
down so he can play cowboy. He especially likes the moment when he
almost goes flying off my leg and I have to grab him at the last
second to keep him seated. We keep it up until my legs feel like
rubber and Neall is gasping for air from laughing for so long.
He and I help his mom fold laundry and make lunch
before I put him down for his afternoon nap. Neall keeps my mind
occupied so I don’t have time to dwell on everything that could
have possibly gone wrong with the crazy scheme to kidnap a Winter
princess. Until he falls asleep, that is. I hate not knowing if Fi
is okay, and once Neall is asleep my mind can’t seem to focus on
anything else. I wish I knew everything went smoothly, but I’m too
anxious to try and focus and use my gift. Feelings normally just
come to me; I’ve never tried to navigate things further than that.
I wish someone had written some kind of instruction manual for
Seers. That would be very helpful right now.
After only a few minutes, my legs are jangling again
and I’m sitting in the living room with my head in my hands, just
waiting. I hear Aodhan’s voice from the dining room where he was
putting dishes away. “Eir, how about we go outside…take a walk or
something?”
I look up, nodding gratefully. “Yes, please.” I try
not to jump to my feet but I’m sure I’m not fooling anyone. I’m a
wreck. I need to get rid of some of this tension, and physical
activity, while not usually my favorite thing in the world, is a
way to alleviate the pressure building inside me.
We spend the rest of the day outdoors. I’m pretty
sure my uncle plotted with Aodhan to keep me busy, but I am
completely okay with that. We take a football and head to the park
where we spend hours tossing it back and forth, talking about
inconsequential things. Aodhan seems to realize I’m not in the
right frame of mind for any sort of real conversation and hums
softly as we traverse the streets of the city on our way back to
his house. I am slightly calmer than earlier, but still anxious to
see my sister.