Dark Promise by Annika West

14

“Screw this shit,” I hissed. “What the fuck is that thing doing here?”

It looked like the same wraith that had burst out of the ground during Reya’s totally failed bonding ritual on Samhain. The murderous creature that effortlessly tore through bodies and crushed people like they were empty soda cans.

Adair didn’t appear afraid, however. Just sad. And resigned. “So, you have laid eyes upon one as well. Terrifying devils, are they not?”

“This isn’t… now, is it?” I asked.

“One of my five powers is prophecy,” he revealed. “I am taking what I’ve seen in a prophecy and showing it to you with my illusion power. The same one you have. This is what waits for Faery if we do not open the portals. I don’t know how to convince you to care or believe me. In truth, I could be lying to you and showing you an imaginary future. One that I have masterfully cooked up as a fear tactic.”

The wraith launched into the air, circling. In the sky, four more shadows joined it.

“There are more?” I asked.

“In this future reality, Faery is their home,” he answered.

“How far off?” If he was telling the truth, that is. Even with this horrific vision, there was no way to really really know.

“It could be next week or next year. I cannot predict the time and place with utmost conviction, unfortunately. Prophecy deals in uncertainty more often than I am ever comfortable with. However… it is soon. All of my visions of the future have come to pass within five years of my first seeing them. It has been exactly one year since this wraith-littered image has appeared. However, there is some hope to the measure.”

“Thank fuck. Spill it, gramps.” This had better be good.

The wraiths flew overhead, casting shadows “If I take action that properly changes the outcome, I will receive a new vision showing me the change.”

A flock of the massive wraiths emerged from the thunderous clouds above.

The vision shimmered.

And then it disappeared.

The warm sunshine kissed my skin as reality settled around us once more.

Adair was more solemn than ever. “I have tried much in these last years, Aster. I have performed rituals to cleanse the land. I have pleaded with the other courts and concocted ridiculous revitalization plans. Peace plans. Deadly plans. I have instigated pathways to war and ruthless slaughter, only to pull back when I failed to receive a new vision. None of these decisions have changed the destructive fate that will befall Faery within the next four years.”

“Why don’t the other courts help you?” I demanded, furious. “It’s like you’re a lone wolf! Aren’t they a little concerned?”

“I have,” he said. “Each leader has a different idea of what exactly will save Faery. None of them believe we should be opening our doors again. None of them see that our terrible abuse toward the halflings might be building an incredible imbalance of our very spirits. On top of that, there are factions who do not even believe prophetic powers are true. It contracts their pious beliefs in their own gods. Summer and Autumn have a particular hatred for me, and they refuse to grant me the slightest bit of trust.”

“So, how do you know the gates will work —”

Adair trained his eyes on me.

I sucked in a breath.

His gaze was unblinking and unwavering. It was the stare of complete conviction and understanding. Every moment of crusty ancientness weighed on me through his stare.

He had every intention of succeeding. There wasn’t any space for failure.

“I do not require your help. Whether you believe me or not will not change my intentions,” he stated. “However, I think your contributions would do more than either of us understand. You must be comfortable with holding a dangerous torch. Of being a leader to your kind.”

A hysterical, unhinged grin appeared on my face, completely without my permission. “I’m a Cut nobody with a bad sugar addiction and a tendency to stab people before thinking it through. And you want me to lead this? You’ve got to be a senile cat. A pastel, senile cat. Immortality finally got to you, didn’t it?”

He shrugged. “You will likely be reviled in the beginning. The fae leaders will call you an invader and demand your execution. Some halflings will see you as the revolutionary they’ve been waiting for. Others might resent you for disrupting the reality they’ve been forced to integrate into their identities. That’s the truth of it, Aster. I am not asking you to be a hero. I’m asking you to be the villain. For now. Soon after, however, that will change. When Faery is restored, your efforts and sacrifices will be worshipped.”

I crossed my arms. “You’re doing a lot of logical bypassing. I’m still not on board, gramps! Besides, what about me makes you think I care what people think of me?”

Adair opened his mouth, at a loss. “That appears to be a trick question.”

“No trick,” I reassured him, gesturing to my body. “Is it the potato sack clothing I’m wearing? The unbrushed state of my hair? Or maybe it’s my high-class manners. I really don’t care about looking cool, Adair. It’s never been my skill, and I don’t intend to practice. You’re not going to win me over through that line of reassurance. I need proof.”

He sighed. “So, will you do it?”

It was funny how I’d just hopped from one deadly mission to another. It was like my life was forever cursed by the Overlord, and now, I was forced to spend my mortal years saving someone’s immortal ass.

An unconscious flinch caught me.

For a few minutes, I hadn’t thought about Hux at all.

Thankful for something else to focus on, I threw my hands up, exasperated. “I don’t know! I’ve jumped into worse situations for shittier reasons! I have several questions, but I’m still hungry. Gotta feed the kraken inside of me. Until then, peace out.”

No way was I going to agree to anything unless I was swimming in sugar. For some reason, I was hungrier today.

Maybe the sleeping spell had a bigger impact than I’d thought.

Maybe Adair’s terrible unicorn clothing sucked my soul energy.

There’s no way to know.

I headed back to the glorious, gods-given dining table.

Adair chuckled as he walked beside me, his lighthearted tone once again in place. “You are more ravenous than most of my recent children. It must be the mark and the two powers you hold.”

I stumbled with the force of my shock. “Wait… so it really is the power making me hungry?”

He tossed his gorgeous hair behind him. “Indeed. The dimensional shifting is incredibly taxing on the body. Our shared power is centered on energetic magic that feeds on our soul’s essence. Sugar provides the most relief and fuel. The older you become, the less it will consume your needs. Faery is likely awakening more of your magical depth, so you may be requiring a higher caloric intake for a few days.”

“Woah,” I breathed.

I’ve never been more validated in my entire damn life. This was better than the day I tricked Gladys into eating Mr. Bougard’s entire cucumber garden.

What a day this was.

There was a real, tangible reason why I was a sugar addict.

However…

“I need more evidence,” I reminded him. “What else can you tell me about the gates and this plan of yours? I don’t have all day.”

I did, but who was keeping track? Certainly not me.

We entered the dining room, and I started eating again.

“Hanni, bring me Marco and Jessica.”

A servant, probably Hanni, bowed and left the room. When he came back, he had two people in tow.

This must be Jessica and Marco.

They both stiffened in pleasant surprise at the sight of Adair and dropped into elegant, practiced bows.

I grimaced. “Please make them stop.”

Adair smiled graciously. “Rise.”

“Lord Adair,” Jessica said breathlessly. “We didn’t know you were planning to review our stations today.”

“Not to review,” he said. “Aster has many questions about your time at the Summer Court, and your time here. She is visiting from Earth.”

Their eyes widened, but they didn’t question him.

Marco and Jessica looked human. They didn’t have that timelessly young appearance. There were crow’s feet lines in the corners of Marco’s exceptionally kind eyes.

Jessica, though she couldn’t have been much older than her brother, already had threads of silver in her black hair.

She said, “Well, we were born in Europe and kidnapped by the hounds of the Summer Court. The hounds are fae tasked with scouring Earth and finding halflings like us to take back to Faery.”

“You could be anyone,” I argued. “You could be getting coached by Adair to say these things. How am I supposed to trust you, or even believe you know a thing about Earth?”

They could have been born here, for all I knew.

That’s when Marco began to unbutton his shirt.