Fates Fulfilled: Halven Rising
Fates Fulfilled: Chapter 19

Lex took back everything she’d thought of the statuesque Fae females in Garrin’s court. They weren’t just for looks. They were ass-kicking ninjas.

“One more time?” Em said, in full battle gear, which included a giant sword she wielded like a twig.

Lex limped off to the side of the mat where Em had been teaching her how to use her own sword, because she had one now too. Forget for a moment Lex had never held a weapon before in her life—and the weight of the darn thing—the maneuvering alone was insane. And these women were pros, battle cries and all. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”

Who needed male soldiers when your court had long-haired killers in frothy skirts? No wonder Garrin felt assured of Lex’s safety.

Lex’s muscles ached, but every time she thought she’d collapse in pain, she regained her strength. It was the only reason she’d managed several hours with Em inside the gymnasium decorated like an empty Victorian ballroom.

The room had all the plasterwork and intricate detailing of the other rooms inside Garrin’s court, but it was huge—like basketball-court-sized huge. There were ropes and weapons hanging from every wall, and mats that could only be compared to something she’d seen in an Earth gymnasium, except not made of vinyl. The material was probably made from the skin of the animals she ate that she didn’t want to think about.

Zirel entered just as Lex eased her sore, but rapidly healing butt onto a bench. Since her “true self” had taken effect, her body healed faster than usual. And she could eat the same amount of food as a full-grown man and never have a food baby—which was a huge bonus.

“Lexandra?” Zirel said, scanning her super-cool new workout gear. She too sported the thick, clinging black pants, tunic, and fighting boots the other women wore. And she felt damn powerful, truth be told. He looked around. “You are training?”

Was it such a stretch of the imagination? Yeah, probably. “What did you need, Zirel?”

“His Highness suggested you join me on an errand.”

Lex’s mother was living with Zirel’s family. He must be taking her to see her mom. “I’d be happy to,” she said, and quickly rose to her feet, withholding detailed questions until they were out of earshot.

Moments later, Zirel led her through a narrow stairwell and handed her a heavy ankle-length coat. “Cover yourself,” he said. “Your head and face as well.”

Lex pulled the hood down over her eyes, making sure it covered her face, as instructed. Zirel hadn’t explained why, but Lex knew what sneaking around looked like. She’d spent most of her life avoiding the attention of others. Not to mention, Zirel seemed to be taking her on a circuitous route out of Garrin’s court and into a part of the castle where few people wandered. Even if one of Garrin’s harem saw her, no one would recognize her with the hood covering half her face.

She held on to Zirel’s arm or risked running into a wall. “Where are we going?”

“Silence,” he said, and exited the castle from a side door.

Freezing air hit her face and snow crunched beneath her feet. They walked for at least fifteen minutes, moving through what appeared to be a village near the castle.

Finally, Zirel slowed.

Lex pushed her hood far enough back to see Zirel glance around before slipping through a frozen metal gate.

She managed to not slip down the narrow, icy walkway, thanks to her new battle boots, and Zirel knocked on a wooden door with a thin sheet of ice that had crawled halfway up the surface.

Lex pushed her hood off her head completely this time and looked around. They stood in front of a cottage that resembled an Irish farmhouse. With the exception of the roof, which appeared to have been patched with ice instead of thatch.

She’d been tracking stone foundations with her hood pulled over her eyes and only a few feet of visibility. From what she could tell, they’d made it to what appeared to be the outskirts of town, given the space between dwellings. “Are all the homes in Dark Kingdom this primitive?”

Before Zirel could answer, an elderly man opened the door. “Yes?” He was tall like the other Fae, but Lex hadn’t seen someone this old since she’d arrived. He seemed to recognize Zirel and said, “Please come in.”

Her escort ducked his head beneath the rounded doorjamb, and Lex followed close behind, stepping into a small room with a fire burning in a stone fireplace. The—farmhouse? hut?—wasn’t exactly warm, but it was exponentially warmer than outside. She unfastened her coat but kept it on.

“She is this way,” the man said quietly, and they followed him to the back of the house.

To replace Garrin, standing over an elderly woman in bed.

Garrin nodded at Lex, his gaze lingering a moment before he turned to Zirel. “This is Mertha.”

The errand wasn’t about Lex’s mom. This was something else entirely.

Zirel approached the woman’s bedside, her body tucked beneath a thick coverlet. He raised his hands above her, and Garrin walked to Lex.

“What’s going on?” she said.

He ushered her into the room with the fireplace. “Mertha is at the end of her life and unable to speak.”

Lex looked in the direction of the bedroom. “I thought Fae lived forever?” Wow, and wasn’t that nuts, because she was now Fae too.

“Not forever,” Garrin said. “Mertha is nearly fifteen hundred years old, and the oldest of the remaining elders.”

“Fifteen hundred years?” Lex said loudly.

“The elders live longer than most Fae. Without Mertha and others like her, history would be lost. Elders are scholars with powerful memories who document our history. Unless the king orders it not to be documented.” His eyes glowed with intensity. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

No one had ever accused Lex of being slow. “Mertha is one of the last elders you and my mom spoke of. What happened to my mother isn’t in the records.”

He rubbed his eyes, looking more tired than the last time she’d seen him. “I must be discreet, you understand. But those I’ve spoken with have suggested things that align with your mother’s warnings. I suspect more of our history has been lost to the passing of so many elders.”

Garrin paced two steps away, his back to her. “There is good reason to believe your mother’s claims against my father are true. One of the people I spoke with heard tales, seemingly more myth than fact, but perhaps myth is fact.” He turned and faced her. “That is why I’ve brought you here. Those who might know more perished in battles long since passed. But Mertha and a few other elders I’ve not been able to reach would remember the truth. And not simply about your mother, but of the deep history of our land and my father. History that has been documented—and some that has not.”

He walked to Lex, an urgent look in his eyes. “Only Mertha is close to her end, and it’s come upon her quickly. Her husband says within days she lost her ability to stand. Over the last hour, she lost her ability to speak. It will not be long now.”

Blood whooshed in Lex’s ears and panic settled in her chest. “If she can’t talk, what are we to do?”

“There is a chance that with help from you and Zirel…”

Lex blinked and looked through the door to the other room, where Zirel stood beside Mertha’s bed. “You think Zirel can heal her? She’s not sick, Garrin. She’s really, really old. How can Zirel heal age? I mean, that’s not possible, right? You guys can’t really make yourselves live longer?”

“No, of course not. But believe it or not, Mertha is relatively young for an elder. And with age comes ailments, even among our kind. Your kind now, Lex, lest you’ve forgotten. With Mertha’s rapid decline coinciding with our arrival—I’m afraid there are forces working against us. Against Mertha. Forces beyond her ailments.”

“Someone is hastening her death?” Lex shook her head. “And you want me to heal her?”

“I’m among the most powerful Fae in the land,” Garrin said, ‘and you gave me back some of my magic while you were unaware. What are you capable of while hale?”

“Nothing. I haven’t been able to do anything since we arrived. I tried last night with Em. She said there’s a tingling that happens when she does her magic. I don’t know. But I haven’t experienced it. The only tingling I’ve felt was when you and I… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

His eyes widened. “When I gave you your first kiss? The power surge Fae experience before our abilities manifest feels very much like what humans call endorphins. It’s also very similar to sexual excitement.”

Lex’s face heated. “You can’t possibly think—’

Before Lex could finish her sentence, Garrin pulled her close and brought his mouth down onto hers.

And there went the butterflies in her belly.

His hand slid up her arm to her shoulder and the tender flesh at her neck, where he gently stroked her skin. He lifted his head and studied her eyes. “Do you feel it?”

She frowned and snapped out of her lust haze. “Of course I felt it. Didn’t you?”

A smile slowly spread across his lips. “It is the same sensation in magic or love. But unlike love, Fae can call to magic. Whereas the other cannot be forced.”

Love? What was he talking about? “I could try to call to it, but I’m telling you, it probably won’t work.”

“I believe in you.”

And he did. She could read it in his eyes. Damn him.

Lex took a deep breath and a careful step back, slowly removing herself from Garrin’s arms, while still envisioning the feel of being in his arms. She walked silently into the bedroom where Mertha lay.

Strangely, she sensed Mertha was dying. Sensed a weakening energy drain more and more the longer Lex stood there. Mertha was a memory person, or some such. Lex could feel Mertha’s magic now. Frail, but there.

This was awful. These were Mertha’s last moments with her husband, and Lex was interrupting it because the kingdom needed Mertha’s knowledge. But Garrin’s actions weren’t selfish. In fact, one could argue they were altruistic. He wanted the truth about his father to keep Lex safe and to help Dark Fae.

Lex sighed, closed her eyes, and focused on Garrin’s kiss. From his soft but firm lips to the way his hand had gently touched her arm and run up her shoulder to the skin of her neck.

A shiver of attraction ran down her spine, and Lex homed in on the sensation. She imagined moving the energy farther out—away from herself. And then she focused on Zirel, and the healing energy that wafted off him. She didn’t know why she hadn’t recognized Zirel’s ability before. Oh, she’d seen him touch to heal, but she’d not sensed him heal. Until now.

Zirel’s ability was as tangible now as holding an orange in her palm. Lex mentally fingered the power texture, tossing it metaphysically in the air. And then she lobbed it at Zirel and pushed the power back at him.

He looked up, startled. Then Zirel quickly glanced down and placed his hands on Mertha’s, who immediately took in a deep breath.

“Yes,” she said.

Garrin rushed over. “Mertha, it is Garrin Branimir. What is it you wish to say?”

“The answer to your question is yes. Your father had Isle Meinrad entombed.” Soft brown eyes fluttered open and looked at Garrin. “Your father…” she started, then gasped, seemingly unable to take in air.

Zirel placed his hands on Mertha and looked at Lex.

Lex reached for the energy she’d sensed a moment ago, but panic made her thoughts scatter, and she couldn’t grasp it.

“…is why we are here…” Mertha said, air leaving her mouth on a long sigh, her chest stilling.

No. No!

Zirel placed his forehead on Mertha’s chest as though to push whatever power he had straight into her heart.

He slowly lifted his head and shook it, his eyes pinched closed.

A choking sound erupted from the old man, and he reached for Mertha’s hand and rubbed it. “Oh, darling.” He dropped to his knees beside the bed and wept. Without looking up, he said, “That is all, my prince. She is gone.”

Garrin’s eyes were wide. He blinked and walked to the older man, touching his shoulder. “I am sorry, my friend.”

The man looked up, appearing puzzled. “It is I who is sorry.” He peered at his wife. “She was more than all the knowledge in this land. More than the petty squabbles between kings. She was a gift.”

Garrin’s gaze slid away, his jaw tightening. He walked to Zirel, and the two of them bent their heads together, murmuring quietly.

Mertha was gone? How could she be gone? She was just here. Lex had never witnessed anyone die, and it was as horrible as she’d imagined it to be.

She stepped closer and gently rested her hand on Mertha’s ankle, closing her eyes.

A willowy strand of energy weaved out. Not something Lex could see or feel with regular senses, but she sensed it just the same. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at Mertha.

Mertha’s chest rose. Infinitesimally, but enough that Lex leaned over the woman, waiting on bated breath for it to rise again.

Her husband had leaned closer too, as though he sensed the energy as well.

Mertha’s eyes blinked open at the same time her arm rose and she flattened her palm to Lex’s head.

“Aaah!” Lex cried out as a pulse of energy burst through her, lighting up the room and what felt like Lex’s insides. She flew backward, landing hard on the stone floor.

Garrin ran over to Lex, and Zirel returned to Mertha, who was utterly still now.

Mertha’s magic and life were gone. Lex knew—because Mertha had just pushed the last of her energy through Lex.

Along with her knowledge.