Fade (Chaos #2)
By Claire Farrell
Editing by Red Adept Publishing Services
Cara Kelly should have left the faery realm by now, but her journey isn’t over yet. Guilt-ridden by the fact Brendan’s life was exchanged for hers, she’s determined not to let him turn into a shade. Running from the enemy and her friends alike, she sets out on a path that will lead directly through the growing Darkside.
Even if Cara makes it to the Fade, even if a goddess watches over her, she doesn’t trust all of her companions, she still has to find a way home, and freeing Brendan could cause a war between the two faeries she cares about.
And all the while, Chaos grows unchecked.
Amazon Edition
Copyright © Claire Farrell 2014
[email protected] Cover by CCR Designs
Licence Notes:
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold.
Chapter One
Rain water ran down my back as a giggling sprite shook a branch of sodden leaves right above my head.
“Cut it out, Realtín!” I moved out of her reach and paced.
Grim climbed out of another tree and nimbly jumped to the forest floor. “She’s almost here.”
I rubbed my chilled hands together. “You worried?”
“Always.”
A naked woman with flowing golden hair stepped out from behind a tree and strode toward us.
Realtín flung a berry at her. “Lose your way?”
Ignoring the jibe and the berry, Bekind handed me a hooded cloak. “To make you less recognisable.”
“We might be less recognisable if you put some bloody clothes on, Bekind.”
She favoured me with a lazy smile. “I’m more use to you as a cat. Just wear the robe, Cara.”
I slipped the robe around my shoulders and pulled up the hood. Instantly, I felt more secure. For an entire day and night, I had been anxiously waiting for someone to come after us, someone to say we didn’t belong, but nothing had happened. Drake hadn’t followed. I tried not to be pathetic about that, but things had gotten confusing since he’d regained his body with the help of a trio of demi-goddesses.
Bekind reached out and tightened my hood. “A friend will help us. He’s not so far. It’s good that we came this way for help. If anyone follows us, they’ll be delayed by searching the usual places.” She looked around at the three of us. “When we get there, let me do the talking. Realtín, do not offend anyone. They could turn on us for less. Do you understand?”
Diving from the tree, Realtín shimmered red before hiding under my hood and clinging to my hair.
“We’ll be okay,” I murmured, reaching up to pat her. “You don’t have to come with me.”
She tugged my hair a little tighter in response.
Bekind’s eyes narrowed on me. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“This was my idea,” I said. “I’m more than ready.”
“Then let us press on. We’ve a lot of ground to cover before we can traverse the Fade and rescue Brendan’s soul.” She touched my cheek almost fondly. “I hope you survive.”
She turned and strolled away, all naked swaying hips. Two months earlier, I might have been more concerned by the nudity, but the faery world had its own set of rules. I had broken plenty of my own rules in that time, so I couldn’t exactly judge.
Grim, Realtín, and I followed Bekind. We had been shivering in the woods for over an hour, and I had almost given up hope that she would return. Waiting around with an impatient sprite wasn’t anyone’s idea of fun.
“We need payment,” Grim said, jogging to catch up with Bekind. “For supplies.”
Bekind shrugged. “Plenty of kinds of payment out there.”
Before I could question her, she turned into a black cat and stepped out onto the mucky road. I was beginning to learn that morphing into the cat was her avoidance trick. Not for the first time, I felt as though I were stuck in a fairy tale, wandering on an enchanted path to who knew where with only a shape-shifting cat, a mischievous sprite, and a solemn brownie for company. I couldn’t say the fairy tale life didn’t have its benefits, but walking through mud wasn’t one of them.
Every step squelched as though the mud was actively trying to suck the shoes off my feet. The shoes weren’t mine, and they didn’t fit, so when one came off and vanished beneath the mud, I tossed the second and moved on in my bare feet. Something tickled the soles of my feet.
We’d been trudging in ankle-deep mud for twenty minutes when the scent of meat filled the air. My stomach growled. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten a full meal. I had been so nervous about the ceremony and the trials, so worried about Brendan and Drake, that I had picked at my food the entire time. But I needed strength. My thighs and hips were already starting to ache from walking.
We approached a crooked little building on the side of the road. A small stable was attached to the side, and a field behind it was full of vegetation. Some goats grazed in a meadow with a donkey that looked straight at us and baled mournfully.
“An inn?” Grim frowned. “We’ll surely be noticed at an inn.”
The cat trotted onto the porch then looked back at me. Rolling my shoulders, I stepped up and pushed open the door, ignoring Realtín’s cold pinches.
When I entered, a blast of steam threatened to suffocate me, but then the air thinned, and all I noticed were the aromas of stew, freshly baked bread, and ale. Sounds of laughter and conversation came from behind a closed door to the right. I spotted a balding, obese figure behind a table, rubbing his hands together as he gaped at us. Despite the sweat rolling down his face, he gathered blankets around his shoulders as if he were half frozen.
“I’ve been waiting,” he complained in a high-pitched voice. “Come. Come this way before they return.”
The man rose and, panting with each step, led us through a door on the left. When we stepped inside, he slammed the door behind us and leaned against it. I looked around the room—one bed, no windows, lit only by a small lantern.
“There. We’re in.” He giggled like a small child, rubbing his hands together again.
Bekind transformed into her human form and hugged the man. Somehow, he seemed younger than my first impression had suggested, although with the fae, age was pretty hard to guess in the first place.
He turned and eyed me warily. “Perhaps you’re hungry. Yes, I’ll send for food.”
“First, the supplies,” Bekind said softly. “We can wait to eat. We need to be ready to flee. Any news yet?”
“Celebrations,” he said. “Pastels in the smoke. All is well. They believe the king is the one they voted for.”
“Good. You know what we need?”
“Yes, but are you sure this is the right journey?”
She patted his sweat-stained cheek. “Certain, Ivan.”
He hesitated as if he wanted to say something else, but then he nodded and bowed out of the room.
Bekind took a seat. “Now we wait.”
She never looked uncomfortable, no matter the occasion, but I felt sick. Celebrations meant there was a king, but it wasn’t Brendan. When the fae realised Drake wasn’t strong enough to control both courts, mayhem would ensue. Drake didn’t know it yet, but he needed Brendan. We all did.
I sat on the bed and tried to calm my breathing. I had to be crazy, walking into the Fade, but I couldn’t go home and leave Brendan there without even trying. Besides, I didn’t have a home anymore. I had lost my job and my family because of the fae. All paths were closed to me—all but one.
“I hope he knows what we’ve gone through for him,” Realtín whispered.
I reached for the sprite. She huddled against my hand like a frightened animal.
I tried to catch Grim’s eye, but he refused to look at me. I knew why. I would try to persuade him to take Realtín and run, and he would refuse to even think about it. We had played that song in the forest more than once.
“Why is there no electricity or anything?” I asked. “Everything is so old-fashioned.”
“It interferes with the magic,” Grim said. “In the human realm, it isn’t so bad, but here, it causes problems. Nobody has dared try since the seasons stopped.”
“The seasons stopped?” I forgot to feel scared in my interest.
“Once, there were seasons like in the human realm,” Bekind said. “But then faery royalty claimed to have power over the seasons. The summer court, the winter court—they all like to show off and prove their worth, but that offended Brighid, and when she turned her back, she took the natural weather away.”
“They say the power lessened with it,” Grim added.
Bekind nodded. “I believe that’s true. Everything changed then. And now, the power of whoever is in control decides the weather, and that is why we often celebrate our festivals in the human realm.”
“The last Seelie queen liked the sun,” Realtín said in a small voice. “It was always too warm. All of the time.”
“And her sister fought back with wind and storm clouds,” Grim said. “Monsoons destroyed entire villages because of the war in their hearts.”
I meant to ask more questions, but a knock at the door interrupted us. Bekind answered it and retrieved a tray of food. She laid it on the table. We all reached for some, but she slapped my fingers away.
“I taste first,” she said firmly. “From now on.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want you to be poisoned.”
“But you don’t mind if you are?”
She grinned, and her teeth looked distinctly pointed. “I have a stronger stomach than you. Besides, it’s my job to protect you.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “Do you realise how many times I’ve almost died already?”
She wagged her finger. “Almost. You’re still alive.”
“You were supposed to protect my mother, too,” I said under my breath.
She handed me the bowl of stew she had tasted. “Also still alive.”
I shook my head at her nonchalance. “And does your friend know who we are?”
“He knows who I am and that I need access to the Fade. That’s enough to keep his mouth still.” She cocked her head. “For a time, at least.”
I arched an eyebrow. “For a time?”
“Once we reach the Fade, nobody will try to stop us. The truth won’t be harmful then.”
“It’ll be harmful for Drake!”
Grim squeezed my hand.
Bekind looked at me. “He’s stealing a crown, Cara. Does he deserve it?”
“That’s not for me to judge,” I said, digging into the stew. “I just want Brendan to have a real chance at life.”
“And why is that, I wonder?”
I stared at her, my appetite gone. Sometimes I wondered, too.
“Leave her alone.” Realtín rose in the air, turning alarmingly red. “She’s human. She does things for reasons the likes of you would never understand. And if you try to harm her—”
“The likes of me?” Bekind laughed. “And what would that make you?”
“It makes her my friend,” I said. “And if we’re going to travel together, you’re going to be nice to her. If you can’t manage that, then forget all of this.”
I half expected Bekind to walk away; I kind of hoped she would.
But she swallowed hard, red rising in her cheeks, and said, “Fine. Eat up. We’ve a long way to travel.”
She very badly wanted to come with us. But why? I didn’t trust her, but she was the only one offering to lead us into the Fade. Grim was studying her. If anyone could learn her motives, he could.
We had finished eating by the time Bekind’s friend returned. He looked more confident. Actually, he looked fit to burst, as if he could barely contain the delicious secret he knew. I had a feeling that was what Bekind meant: Ivan couldn’t be trusted for long. But did she want the fae to know the truth?
“Ivan,” she said warmly, “you must have wings attached to your ankles to move so fast.”
He gave her a coy smile then snapped his fingers. A couple of small faeries followed him into the room, all of them with their arms full.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “They have no tongues, and if they share a secret, they’ll lose their fingers, too.”
I stared at the faeries in horror. One gave me a wide smile, proving Ivan had spoken the truth. Sadly, it wasn’t the worst thing I had witnessed amongst the fae.
Bekind patted Ivan’s arm. “What do you have for us?”
“Everything you asked for… and a little more.”
“You’re a good boy, Ivan. Always have been.”
“They’ll leave the clothes here,” he said. “I’ll have the rucksacks attached to the horses.”
“Just one horse,” Bekind said. “You know the one. The cat shall lead.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’m worried you’ll need more protection, though.”
“I think luck is with us today,” she said.
I exchanged a worried glance with Grim. We were out of the loop, and I didn’t like it.
“Don’t worry,” Bekind said when Ivan had left with the faeries. “We’ll be leaving soon. Grim, check on the horse while I dress Cara. Nobody will pay attention to a brownie.”
He hesitated, looking at Realtín.
“Go,” I said. “We’ll be fine, and you’ll be right outside. I’ll be quick.”
He bowed and left. Sometimes I thought he had convinced himself that he belonged to me, or maybe he was just too used to obeying orders.
“I’m pretty capable of dressing myself,” I said when Grim shut the door.
“I know,” Bekind said. “But this is different.” She held up the riding outfit Ivan had brought for me. “It’s made from a special kind of leather. It’s light, so you can move freely, but it might protect you from the sharp edge of a blade. If you’re lucky.”
“And Ivan just happened to have this lying around?”
Ignoring the question, she motioned for me to change. As I dressed, she hid daggers in the legs of the outfit.
“There’s no point carrying heavy swords that none of us know how to use. We may be luckier with small weapons.”
“Luck’s a big thing with you,” I said, adjusting the belt.
“Luck’s the root of all,” she whispered. She twisted my hair up and pinned it in place with what looked like a pointy chopstick. “And even your hair can hold protection. Some women like to put poison on their skin. Would you…?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t want to become the toxic bitch of the faery realm, thanks very much.”
“Your loss,” she said with a mischievous smile. She made me sit on the bed while she put leather boots on my feet. “They fit perfectly. Please don’t throw these away. They’ll cost us a great deal some day.” She stood and brushed her hands together. “Come. We’re ready. Realtín, you are the one who must flee for help if things go wrong. Grim will defend Cara to the death, but it need not come to that if help is nearby. Remember, you are Cara’s eyes now. You’ll see the things she can’t. Are you willing to work with me, sprite?”
Realtín nodded sulkily, but as soon as Bekind turned away, the sprite threw a crust of bread at the back of her head. Bekind curled her fingers into fists but otherwise didn’t respond. I gave Realtín a wry look. She shrugged and flew around the room, sending beams of golden light in every direction.
“We all need to get along,” I said to nobody in particular.
Bekind called Ivan, and I put on the hooded robe. I didn’t think a hood would hide how un-faery-like I was, but it was better if my face wasn’t recognised if somebody tried to stop us.
“Do you think Drake would keep us from finding Brendan s
o he can have the crown for himself?” I whispered to Realtín. More and more, I was realising I didn’t know Drake particularly well, and I was beginning to doubt everything I had once thought I knew.
“No,” she said confidently. “He doesn’t care about power.”
I hoped she was right.
Once Ivan had sent his pixies to distract the other inn patrons, the three of us followed him outside, where Grim was waiting. It had grown dark, but even in the gloom, I could see the wild amber eyes of the horse. The stallion blew out through his nose as he glared down at us.
“Maybe we could walk,” I said, remembering the last time I had been on a horse. That equine had been intent on carrying me into the sea.
“You ride,” Bekind said. “Ivan, help her mount. She’s not used to it.”
I edged toward the horse. He was impossibly black and beautiful, but large and terrifying. He turned his head and observed me for a moment before tossing his mane.
“Up you go,” Bekind said softly. “Don’t let him sense your fear.”
“Oh, why didn’t I think of that?” I planted one foot in the stirrup, gripped the reins with one hand and the saddle horn with the other, and tried to climb on by myself. I was dismally unsuccessful.
Ivan shoved me onto the horse’s back then pulled his hands away from my waist as if he had been burned. I settled into the saddle and peered down, feeling way too far from the ground. I just knew I was going to fall. My knees tightened almost involuntarily against the horse’s flanks.
“She has the instincts,” Bekind said. “She’ll learn the rest as she goes.”
The horse bent his head, and I thought I would topple forward, but I leaned back in time. I cleared my throat. “Uh, what’s his name?”
“Dubh,” Ivan said. “Not the most original, but there it is.”
The horse moved a couple of steps at the mention of his name. I pressed my knees and heels against his sides in a panic, desperate not to fall. “Is it just me, or is this saddle humongous?” I asked.
“He’s not the average horse,” Ivan said. “Plenty of room for the… um… group.”