A Dark and Deadly Beauty

The Endless Worry

In the wake of the fire attack, Electra’s mind was a roiling cauldron of white-hot anger and an endless stream of curse words so vulgar they would make even her most seasoned warriors blush.

The fire elemental… that rat-bastard. That greasy, stinking rebel from the coastal woods.

He had come here, to the heart of the kingdom, and set upon the unsuspecting folk of the court like a mangy, rabid dog. And then he simply blinked away,whisked to safety on the arm of the mysterious portal-maker.

Electra still couldn’t wrap her mind around it, existence of a living portal-maker. Let alone a portal-maker who was aiding the anti-human rebellion. At least that explained how their group moved from place to place without so much as a trace.

When she watched the fire elemental slip through the lavender light of the portal she had been shocked. But, she was also furious. Furious in the way a hunter might seethe with disappointment and ill-temper when the prey he had spent hours stalking vanishes into the underbrush just as he has nocked an arrow.

Letting him escape again vexed her to her bones and wounded her pride.

But then, she saw the burns and blisters on her friends… and the wrath that rose inside of her was so great that even the shadows seemed to shrink away from her in fear.

Most folk were alright. Scared, uneasy, worried… but alright. A few had superficial burns on hands or faces, or singed clothes or hair. The children had all been sent to bed, thank the blessed stars. Electra wouldn’t let herself dwell on what could have happened if the twins, or little Fennella and Marzanna, or any of the many palace younglings had still been at the party. Burns, blisters, or being trampled and crushed in the surge of bodies fleeing the flames. A shiver of icy dread trickled down Electra’s spine at the very thought.

The King had taken a face full of scorching air when the fireball was first conjured to life, and he had lost a few wisps of curls and most of an eyebrow,the skin at his temple irritated,pink, and chapped.Like any good King, he had protected his Queen. Shielded behind Algar, Tanya had mercifully escaped the attack unscathed.

The same was true for Allegra and Lucien, seated too far from the flame to be injured by them. The intense heat had left them sick, their stomachs volatile and their heads throbbing. But lungfuls of cool winter air and sips of sweet, cold peppermint tea remedied their ills quickly.

Faren had grabbed Emilia and spread his golden wings, shooting them into the sky and out of reach of the fire. He hovered in the air, flapping his wings in sweeping strokes and trying in vain to shout commands of order into the chaos. The roar of the flames and the screams of the people trapped in the courtyard drowned out his words, and the Dark Prince was left helpless, simply watching from the plume of smoke. When it was over, Faren and Emilia were sooty and reeked of coal, but unharmed.

Jacinde had a few splotchy patches of blisters on her ankles, the only area Colm hadn’t been able to protect.

And Colm…her sweet brother Colm…when Electra saw him lying on the ground, his back and arms and legs a mottled, charred testament of the fire’s vicious power, something dark and deadly awoke inside of her.

That fire bastard would regret attacking her friends. Regret hurting her family. She would break his bones one by one, let them heal, and then shatter them again. She would flay his skin until he felt a fraction of the terror and agony Colm had felt in those horrible moments being burned alive. Her revenge would be monstrous,his screaming would shake the ground of the whole of the Dark Realm.

Now Electra lay on the grass, clutching her brother’s hand as Jacinde painstakingly breathed new life into his flesh, knitting his raw skin together with magic and breath.

All around them, the courtyard had turned into a make-shift clinic. The healing fay had fled in droves to the palace- some from the guild and some from their own homes and celebrations. They tended the injured and soothed the agitated. Tinctures and balms and calming brews passed between hands like money, and were treated just as preciously.

Despite the need all around her, Jacinde refused to leave Colm’s side, insisting on being the one to heal him even if it depleted every ounce of her strength. He had saved her, sacrificed his body for her. Now, she would do the same for him.

The pain had stolen most of Colm’s words, he only moaned face down in the chilly grass as Jacinde worked her magic. Though Electra had seen it before, she was mesmerized by the skill and power Jacinde wielded.

She had spread pain-relieving balm across Colm’s body, coating every inch of burn in thick, honey-colored gel that immediately soothed at least part of Colm’s hurt. Slowly, slowly, Jacinde created thick scabs over the least offensive of the injuries, and drew deep from her well of magic to force his skin to mend and regenerate.

Sweat beaded on her brow, her curls plastered to her slender neck. Her face had lost its pink rosiness, looking increasingly drained and pale. She had stopped breathing evenly, instead panting like she couldn’t pull enough air into her chest.

An hour passed. Then another. Electra dared not touch him, dared not speak. She could only watch in tense silence as Colm’s ruined body was, inch by inch, made whole again.

Dawn was painting the sky a coppery yellow when Jacinde, fully spent, collapsed in an exhausted heap beside Colm.

His back was discolored, his arms and legs swollen. But there were no open sores, no blackened skin. A full recovery would take time,but now at least he wasn’t in agony any more.

None of them spoke, though Electra couldn’t help but notice the look of unrestrained adoration in Colm’s eyes as he peered at Jacinde, curled on her side with her eyes shut against the rising sun.

The tidal wave of rage inside of Electra was ebbing away, not gone but overwhelmed by her own bone-weariness. With the blood no longer pumping in her veins, and her heart no longer in her throat, she realized she was tired,dead tired.

The thought of nestling beside her brother and her friend and slipping away to sleep under the winter sun was tempting. She crawled over beside Jacinde, trying to avoid jostling Colm’s sensitive skin. Jacinde offered a sweet, sleepy smile and patted the dry grass, a silent invitation to join her in a well-earned nap.

Just as she readied her body to lay down, a long, horned shadow fell over her.

“Electra, I’m sorry to tear you away from your brother, but his Majesty has summoned a war meeting,” Beck said softly, trying not to disturb the resting bodies beside her.

He offered her his hand, and memories of those calloused, strong fingers playing with her body the night before flashed across her mind. In the frenzy of the attack, his promises of passion and ecstasy had been pushed to the back of her mind. But now…those hands were a strong reminder.

She willed herself not to blush as he hauled her to her feet. Her muscles were aching and her joints were stiff. She let out a long, guttural groan as her body protested standing.

Beck’s worried eyes shot to her face, looking for signs of pain, discomfort. For the first time in hours, she looked down at herself…the mess of loose hair, the stained clothes,the layer of pus and gore from applying balm to his wounds caked to her hands.

“Wipe that look from your face, mother hen,” she teased. “I’m fine. I just need a bath and a solid few hours in my bed.”

Without being asked, Beck took her arm and snaked it over his shoulders, taking some of the burden of her weight off of her sore, tired legs. The look on his face, commanding and willful, silenced the arguments bubbling on her tongue. She exhaled, resigned to walking into the war meeting using Beck as a crutch.

They had barely taken two steps when Colm’s strained voice called from behind them.

“It was you who put out the fire on me.”

Beck’s back straightened, and he turned his head.

“It was,” he answered. Something sorrowful played across his face.

Electra looked at her brother, and looked at Beck, realization dawning on her. She had wondered,but dare not ask, how the magical fire had been extinguished on her brother’s body. But here was the answer…Beckett Reed, the man who chased down cougars and defended the Dragon Prince against vicious courtiers, had run towards the blaze and quenched the flames with his water magic.

“Thank you,” Colm croaked.

“Yes,” Jacinde, her eyes now open as she propped herself up on an elbow, echoed: “Thank you, Beckett.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.” Electra could see true regret in his eyes as he said those words.

“The King has ordered wagons to carry the badly injured to the Sanctuary to recover.” Beck said. “I’ll be sure one is sent to you as soon as possible to carry both you, Mr. Durand, and Lady Jacinde.”

Beck bowed his head, respect showing in the gesture, before he turned and guided Electra towards the King’s chambers.

****************

In the heart of Algar’s private rooms that he shared with his wife was a study.

The room was at the base of a round turret on the eastern end of the palace. The curved sales were covered in sumptuous tapestries and lined with dark wood bookcases. Perpetual flame sconces hung from iron hooks, the light casting slanted shadows across the stone floor. Burgundy leather chairs circled a great mahogany table littered with maps, books, and quills.

The room was filled with the royal family and their inner circle. The King and Queen were stone-faced watching Electra trail in, leaning on Beck’s shoulders.

Allegra and Lucien had sent their oldest daughter, Fennella, off to her lessons. But Marzanna, the baby born on Yule last year, was napping, clutched tightly to her mother’s chest. Allergra was bouncing her leg, nerves and a need for motion keeping her from being still. Lucien stared at the flickering sconce, as if remembering the burning heat that sucked the breath from his lungs the night before.

Luci sat on the floor at Emilia’s knee, Kaitrin chewing on a licorice root in her lap. She had been in the nursery with the children when the fireball erupted. All she could do was watch from the window as her friends and family fought the flames, and pray to the stars that it stayed away from the quiet room where the babies slept.

Emilia held Kyrin, who suckled at her breast. She stared down at her son, eyes glued to the angelic face. Though she didn’t say it, fear was etched in her face. Fear the fire would have claimed her, fear the inferno would spread to the palace, fear she would have never held her twins again.

Faren stood behind his family, a silent guardian. Electra had never seen him look more like a dragon, his glittering scales on display beside his watchful eyes.The Dragon Prince hadn’t even appeared this murderous when he faced his own brother for The Rite. He looked prepared to rip the throat of that fire elemental out with his teeth.

Beck helped Electra ease into an empty chair, her body slumping against the buttery leather. Instead of finding his own seat, Beck perched on the arm of the chair and crossed his arms.

“Before we begin our meeting,” Algar’s charged voice filled the quiet room. “Electra, how is your brother? From the reports, he got the worst of it.”

“He’s exhausted, and will carry the scars from the attack, but Lady Jacinde has managed to heal him well enough that he should recover, Your Majesty.”

The King nodded his head. “I’m glad to hear it. A brave man, to face down those flames to shield Jacinde. After all he’s already been through…well, when you speak to him please let him know that his King is proud to have a man like him in his Realm.”

“I will, sir. Thank you.”

“Now- to the matter at hand. I know you are all hungry and tired, but we can’t allow the rot of rebellion to fester any longer. It was one thing when it was an occasional caravan robbery or raiding a docked ship for supplies. But, these folk are killing now- merchants and tradesmen have been burned alive. And last night they attacked innocent fay inside of the palace walls. We can no longer afford to handle this quietly. I am open to opinions and advice.”

Lucien coughed, a jarring bark of a cough that drew everyone’s attention. “The guard has been interrogating the prisoner’s Lady Electra brought after the last mission she went on with her Warfare party. At first, I suspected there were several pockets of rebels leading different attacks…but during interrogation the captured fay have revealed that the rebel group is infact one large community that moves together. Instead of roving bands of criminals, I believe there is one main encampment.”

“Did the prisoners tell you anything else?“ Tanya asked. “Could…could my son be the one orchestrating this?”

“Tanya… no. I’ve got eyes and ears in the Human Realm on Thierrus. He hasn’t done anything to make me believe he is a part of this. From what I can see, when Thierrus contested Faren’s place as heir, he simply gave them a cause. These people simply took his words and used them as a rally cry. As far as other information from the prisoners…nothing useful. They refuse to give up names or locations. Truthfully, the only way we found out about the encampment is because a sharp-eared guard heard them whispering to each other through the bars of their cells.”

Electra spoke. “It would make sense to have one central location that acts like a hub of sorts. Groups can go in different directions and launch attacks, and it would appear scattered and random. Now that we know they have a portal-maker, we not only have to find the camp, but find a way to deal with her.”

“How do we go about doing that?” Allegra piped up.

“I have an idea,” Emilia’s voice was soft as her husband’s eyes darted to her. “Based on where the attacks have been, I believe they are located somewhere in the northeast. Faren and I have a royal tour of the coastal towns in the early spring. What if we brought warfare members with us? They could scout the woods surrounding each town we visit, go to taverns and listen to the locals. Someone is bound to let something slip.”

Luci’s head spun like an owl as she looked up at her mistress. “You’re still planning on going on the tour after what happened?”

“Emilia,” Faren stared down at his wife,eyes pleading. “After what happened last night,after how close they came…”

“That is exactly why we need to go. The people in those towns have taken the brunt of the rebels violence. Their businesses are suffering and they are afraid. They need to see us living our lives, not cowering. They need to see that we care for them,that we prioritize them.”

She turned her grey eyes onto her husband. “And you do realize that that horrible man could have been portaled anywhere, right? Into The Great Hall…into the Sanctuary…into our own damn bedchamber- and burned the palace to the ground. No…they wanted to send a message. They wanted us to know they could get to us. They wanted to show everyone that their own King can’t protect his palace. If we stay or if we go- none of us or any of the folk of the Realm are safe until these murderers are caught!”

Beck took a deep breath, and despite the vicious glare from Faren, said “I agree with Emilia. She’s right, the fire elemental could have appeared in our home in the middle of the night and burned us all in our beds. Staying in the palace is no guarantee of safety. I would see them caught and imprisoned before they can do any more harm.”

“I agree with her, too,” Allegra agreed, running a loving hand over Marzanna’s soft hair.

Electra chewed it over in her mind. While she could see the logic, the protective, emotional parts of herself wanted to lock them all up in a bower, cocooned in lamb’s wool and satin until the rebels had been arrested, last night had proved that no place could shield the people she loved from that fire bastard while he still breathed.

She thought of Colm, and the burns he would carry. Of Jacinde, and the worry in her eyes. She thought of her friends in this room, and how they deserved peace and safety while they raised their families. And she made her decision.

“I also agree,” she said, “And I volunteer to go.”