Fade Page 13

  “You go on then,” I said. “I want to check on Dubh.”

  But he came with me as if he thought I might run away there and then. I shared some sugar lumps I had stolen from the kitchen with the horse. He seemed slightly less antagonistic, which was a bonus.

  “He’s a decent horse,” Drake said. “You were lucky to find him. He seems attached to you.”

  “And I suppose that’s my fault, too.” I looked at him. “I’m not forcing anyone to help me, no matter what any of you say.”

  “Forcing is not the right word. There’s nothing wrong with doing what you have to do to survive.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

  I stayed with Dubh until Realtín came out and coaxed me back inside. I didn’t need to hear the conversation, though. I already knew exactly where my path lay.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I am not getting lost in the memories of the dead!” Líle cried. She hadn’t been looking well since we left the marshes, and apparently, the next bit happened to be her worst nightmare. “This isn’t right. We can’t do this.”

  “You don’t have to,” I said. “Nobody’s forcing anyone to be here. Bekind offered to lead me to the Fade. That’s all that matters now. We’ve made it this far. I can’t ask you all for any more.”

  “Cara,” Líle said, “surely you see he’s not worth this. It’s unnatural. It’s—”

  “Don’t tell me what to think,” I said coolly. “I have a debt to repay, and I’m not going back until it’s done.” I ignored the little voice in my head that said it wasn’t about a debt. With Drake around, that voice had almost been silenced.

  Bekind sat in a chair, a blanket wrapped around her human form. “We need Drake with us,” she said. “And Dubh. That’s all. The rest are extras. Helpful, but ultimately unnecessary.”

  I looked at her in confusion. “We don’t need Drake at all. In fact, he’s the one who shouldn’t go. If anything happens to him—”

  “Well, it’s about time you thought of that,” Sorcha snapped. “This quest of yours could damage the entire realm. Even if it’s successful, you could be starting a war.”

  “Brendan wants peace,” I said.

  “So he says.”

  “He wants to make up for his mistakes. He’s wiser now. And Drake won’t war with him, right?” I looked to Drake for reassurance. His face was expressionless, but he nodded after a long, tense silence.

  Bekind squeezed her eyes shut. “We might need Drake to take Brendan out of the Fade.”

  “Hold on, Bekind,” I said. “What?”

  Bekind licked her lips. “A connection is the only way to take a lingering soul from the Fade. Preferably a genetic connection. Drake might be the best connection we have, considering Brendan once shared his body.”

  “And you’re only telling me this now because…?”

  “I thought you would do, but now I’m more confident about him.” She jerked her head in Drake’s direction.

  I pressed my palms against my eyes. “I can’t believe this. Is there anything else you’ve neglected to tell me, Bekind?” Her expression gave nothing away, but I was sure she was holding back. There were always secrets, always betrayals. I had to keep a better look out for them.

  “I won’t do you harm,” Bekind said in a soft voice. “I’m supposed to keep you alive, remember?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Drake said. “I already intended to finish the journey.”

  “But we can’t,” Líle said. “What if we get lost in the Hauntings? What if we never make it to the Fade? And even then… to walk into the Fade. To hide from shades and the like. I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Líle!” Arlen barked. “You forget yourself. You were ordered to watch over the true child. That doesn’t change because our king is lost. It doesn’t change because we’re free. You pride yourself on your loyalty. What are you doing, working yourself into this state?”

  “I want to go with you.” Líle reached out to me. “I do, Cara. But I’d rather you didn’t go at all.”

  “It’s the Black Marsh,” I told Arlen. “It’s made her doubt herself. She’ll be fine.”

  “The Mother will watch over us,” Anya said. “How else could Cara have led us through the marshes? Have a little faith.”

  Líle fell silent, but she looked depressed.

  “I’m going,” Arlen announced. “And you can’t stop me, true child, so no running off on Dubh without me.”

  I grinned at him. I was relieved to have him coming along. He was strong and could make snap decisions when needed. Of course, I had thought the same about Líle, but her fear had gotten the best of her.

  “I’m going.” Sorcha looked at me. “You’re not the only one with debts.”

  Realtín flew over to kiss my cheek. “Grim and I aren’t leaving your side.” Grim nodded his agreement.

  I felt a little guilty. They clung to me because I was the first person ever to be nice to them, to accept them the way they were. And I was totally taking advantage of that. “What if I asked you to stay here and wait for us? What if I begged you?”

  “After the life we’ve had,” Grim said, “we’re not meant to die of old age in a bed. This is the way we choose to live now, and that makes all the difference. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have a choice. We’ve talked about it, and we want to be involved in what happens. We don’t want to die in obscurity as outcasts. We want to surround ourselves with those who respect us. Thanks to you, there’s more than one person we can say that about. And it might be terrifying, but we’ve experienced more with you than ever in our lives. Let us have that, Cara.”

  I nodded, tears brimming in my eyes. I couldn’t compete with Grim when he chose to speak.

  “I’m coming, too,” Anya said. “We’re watching miracles happen. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” Dymphna said. “If I want my daughter and my people, I have to prove myself.” She gave Líle a disgusted look. “And I’m not a coward.”

  “Fine,” Líle said sourly. “I’ll come, but it’s on all of your consciences if it goes wrong.”

  “We should prepare,” Arlen said. “I want to discuss the Hauntings some more with the Watcher.”

  We spent the rest of the morning getting ready to leave. The Wife gave us bundles of food.

  “This is for you.” She handed me a soft bundle.

  “A cloak?” I asked, shaking out the fabric.

  “It’s a good cloak.” She smiled at me. “You have more need for it than any of us.”

  “Thank you,” I said, embarrassed. The material felt weighty and valuable.

  “That’s kind of you,” Drake said. “I left her wet cloak back in the marshes.”

  “I noticed.” the Wife took my hands. “It’ll be a tough journey. Be sure your heart is in it.” She went back to ordering the pixies about.

  I joined Grim and helped him load Dubh. The strong faery horse could carry far more than the other horses.

  “Don’t forget your gifts from the Miacha,” Grim said.

  “I know.” I leaned against Dubh. “Thanks, Grim. For offering to come with me. I don’t know what I would do without you and Realtín.”

  He looked embarrassed. “There’s never a need to thank us. You’re the only family we have, Cara.”

  I carried on with the preparations, my heart overflowing.

  ***

  That afternoon, we bid the Watcher and the Wife a warm goodbye. They had been good to us.

  But as soon as we moved out of sight of their home, the atmosphere chilled. The wind was sharp and bitterly cold. Drizzle had begun to fall. The sun was more like the human version than the fae one—brighter, larger, more yellow. Despite the uneasiness in the air, I felt comforted by the familiar sun and a little excited that we were another step closer to the Fade. We followed the Watcher’s directions until Dubh slowed, stamping his feet and shaking his head.

  “I know it feels wrong,” Grim whisper
ed to the horse, “but this is how it has to be. We’re going to the Fade, remember? It will all feel wrong from here on out.”

  Dubh kept moving, but I sensed his reluctance in the tension of his muscles beneath me. The other horses were restless, too, but they followed Dubh. Everyone looked worried as we left the Watcher’s path and headed into the Hauntings. I had been expecting a forest or something similar, but instead, we entered a ghost town.

  “These look like human buildings,” I said. “From long ago. It could have come straight from the past.”

  “It likely has,” Grim said.

  But as we rode through the first section, the buildings shimmered and shifted until they were unrecognisable. Then they vanished altogether. I shivered as a cool wind blew around my shoulders. Dubh refused to walk any further.

  I slipped off his back. “I’ll try to lead him.”

  Bekind circled my ankles. I looked over my shoulder. The other horses were gone. Then, I realised my hand was gripping air instead of the reins.

  “Fuck,” I whispered. Dubh had disappeared, along with Grim and Realtín. “Bekind?” She was still by my feet.

  Mist drew around us, making it hard to see. I heard voices on the wind, felt heat from a hot summer’s day, and experienced an incredibly strong sense of fear.

  A couple appeared in front of me. The woman had wings, but the man had none. They kissed passionately. Afterward, they turned and looked right through me as if startled then ran in the opposite direction. Were they shades? Those people whose memories lingered in the Hauntings? Would that happen to Brendan?

  I turned in a circle, terrified that when another apparition appeared, it might be one of Brendan’s memories. But how would I know?

  Bekind mewled like a kitten. I picked her up to comfort both of us. She yowled loudly, leapt out of my arms, then ran until I couldn’t see her anymore. The mist felt like prying hands on my skin. Gasping, I whirled around, sure I felt breath on my shoulder. The cloak the Wife had given me was gone. Looking down, I didn’t recognise my clothing.

  Something moved in my peripheral vision. I turned, expecting a misty vision, but a faery was curled up on the ground, tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked like a pixie, but her wings were torn, and her cheeks had been clawed to shreds. Her wounds seeped green and blue. Her wails cut right to my heart.

  Swallowing hard, I hesitantly stepped over to her. “Can I… can I help you?”

  She looked up at me, her clawed nails ripping the skin on her legs. “Kill me,” she croaked. “Kill yourself before it’s too late.”

  “You need to get out of here,” I said. “If you come with me, I can—”

  She screamed and yanked a clump of hair from her head. I winced, and she leapt at me, knocking us both to the ground.

  “This is where the dreamers die.” She let out a weird cackle then ran off, twirling in circles, her bloody arms outstretched.

  “Holy fucking shit,” I whispered, getting to my feet.

  I had to find my friends before it was too late, before we lost ourselves in the memories, lost our minds, too. I moved through the mist. An umbrella appeared in my hand, and I found myself in a thunderstorm. The earth cracked open, and I felt a longing to jump into the abyss. With a shriek of alarm, I ran… out of that memory and right into another. A war in a dark land. Two armies stretched as far as I could see. A mountain of dead bodies lay between them.

  Holding my breath against the stench of death, I closed my eyes and made my way out of the memory unharmed. I hurried, thinking I saw movement ahead. I found some trees and saw Drake wandering amongst them.

  “Drake!” I started to run, but my feet refused to move.

  Drake rushed over, his eyes wild with fear. He gathered me in his arms and kissed me passionately, but it wasn’t his kiss.

  “Stop it,” I said, pulling away. “What’s going on?”

  “They’re coming,” he panted. “They’re on their way. Somebody must have told them.”

  “Who’s coming?” I looked around. We were in a grove of lemon trees. The scent of them filled the air.

  “The guards,” he said. “They’ve come to take me back. To use you up until you’re worthless to me.”

  “Oh, shit,” I whispered. “You’re stuck in a memory.”

  He gripped my shoulders tightly. “We made a pact. The differences in our blood won’t change that, my love. We’ll die here and move on in peace. We’ll be together.”

  There was a knife in his hand, determination in his eyes.

  I slapped his face as hard as I could. “Drake, wake the fuck up!”

  He looked at me fondly. “You’re right. Death won’t stop our love.”

  I stepped back and stumbled, tripping over something. Drake raised the knife, that same smile on his face. I rolled out of the way as he stabbed down. The knife got stuck in the tree trunk I had fallen over.

  He left it and came after me, his arms outstretched. “It’ll be over soon,” he whispered, reaching toward my neck.

  I kicked him in the crotch. He fell, but he scrambled after me on his knees, grabbing my ankle and pulling me down. He crawled on top of me and slipped his hands around my neck. Just as he cut off my air, he slumped, almost crushing me with his weight. I looked over his shoulder and saw Sorcha holding a tree branch.

  “Please don’t be stuck in a memory, too,” I whispered.

  She made a snort of disgust and rolled Drake off me. “As if. Death is my domain. The memories of the dead won’t affect me much.” She stared down at him. “He would have killed you. The strength here is unbelievable.” She looked at me, seeming a little impressed. “And you didn’t succumb, either. I thought I was about to deal with a Romeo and Juliet situation for a moment there.”

  “Give it time.” I got to my feet. “Think he’s okay?”

  “I didn’t hit him that hard. Hopefully, the memory will have played out by the time he regains consciousness. We’ll have to find the others. They must be trapped, too. Maybe we should leave him here for a bit.”

  “We can’t. He could wake at the bit where he commits suicide.”

  She frowned. “Help me drag him away from here then. When he wakes up, we’ll be able to tell if he’s still under the spell.”

  She grabbed his ankles while I held on to his wrists. We started dragging him across the ground.

  “Oh, my God, how can such a skinny fae weigh a ton?” I asked.

  “You have no strength,” Sorcha said. “No matter how much that cowardly fae tries to make you strong, you will never be fae.”

  My cheeks flushed. “I don’t want to be fae.”

  “Don’t you?” She stopped walking and looked to the left. “Is that Arlen?”

  Arlen stood a few metres away, a whirling mist surrounding him. He was swinging his sword out in every direction.

  Sorcha laughed. “Gods help him, he’s fighting a fog.” She let go of Drake and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Arlen! It’s not real!”

  Arlen ducked a blow from some unseen enemy. He kept fighting, his sweat-drenched hair sticking to his forehead.

  “Arlen, she’s right!” I shouted. “It’s just a memory. It can’t hurt you.” I looked at Sorcha. “Right?”

  She shrugged. “Let it hit you, Arlen. Then you’ll see.”

  He gave us one last wary glance before lowering his sword and closing his eyes. I held my breath, but nothing happened. The swirling mist kept moving, but Arlen seemed unhurt. He opened one eye, flinched, then frowned. He made his way over to us.

  He stared at Drake and arched an eyebrow. “I thought you said it wouldn’t hurt us.”

  “Oh, that was me,” Sorcha said matter-of-factly. “He was trying to kill Cara. We have to find the others. Arlen, you stay with Drake. Cara and I will search for the rest. Try not to let Drake kill himself or anyone else when he wakes up.”

  “Duly noted,” Arlen said, though he looked a little confused.

  Sorcha and I stepped back into the mist.
<
br />   Chapter Fifteen

  “Will they be okay?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. I couldn’t see a thing through the thickening fog.

  “Probably not. But we’re not getting out of here without everyone else, and as I know you’re going to be the problem, you’re coming with me to find them as quick as possible.”

  I looked down at myself, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “What in the actual fuck am I wearing?”

  She grinned. Her clothes hadn’t changed. “You’ll find that’s a corset. You almost look as though you have a waist. We must be in another memory.”

  Something red flickered in the distance. “Realtín!” I called, running toward the light.

  “What are you, crazy?” Sorcha demanded, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a halt. “Go easy. You don’t know what’s happening.”

  “It’s Realtín. What’s she gonna do, pelt me to death with tiny berries?”

  She made a face and let go. “Fine, run to your doom. Save me the trouble of having to think of a way to bump you off.”

  “You’re hilarious, banshee.” But I walked alongside her. “It’s a ball,” I whispered as figures danced around me.

  Sorcha stopped. “I think… I think this is a memory of an old queen. Is that Grim? Not really Grim, but a memory?”

  It was. A ghostly queen kicked at him as she glared around her, arrogance plain in her expression. The real Realtín was in a panic, alternatively trying to yank the queen’s hair and pull Grim to his feet. I ran to her, feeling the cool brush of dancing figures against my body. The music was deafening and the corset too tight.

  “Come on!” I shouted at Sorcha, who made a face before running after me. I rushed over to Realtín and pulled her out of the air. “It’s not real, Realtín. That’s not Grim. It’s just a memory. Those days are over.”

  She cried against my neck, pinching my skin in her grief. She had seen the old days, things she wanted to forget. And she had been separated from Grim, her strength. “It’s so real,” she whispered. “I hate it, Cara. I hate it here!”