Page 62 of Fairies Don't Fall

They’d laid him out on my bed, in my chamber. I suppose I had told them that he was my consort, but it was inconceivable to see the monster that was Slaughter in my bed, too large to fit properly. His feet were humanoid, but clawed and with an extra joint to make those claws as deadly as the ones on his hands. Dark blue nails met with pale blue marbled skin, with those red lines like rivulets of lava running through the desolate slate. Infernal runes. Where did those go when Max’s other forms took over? His face was still Max, but sharper, smoother, all the human edges chipped away to reveal the alien monster underneath. That is to say, he looked similarly handsome as Vervain, if Vervain took up infernal magic. He would have done that to save our people. So would I. Blood and death magic may have been more destructive.

His lips were soft in his sleep state. Even asleep, he didn’t look relaxed, not when he flinched and twitched from the poison. Maybe that was from his guilty conscience. He hadn’t been Slaughter for nothing.

The crew of fairy healers moved around him, weaving dancing spells that were bouncing off him, like he had an impermeable shell.

What was the first thing to do with a poison victim? I pushed through the healers and punched out my claws. I grasped his wrist in my hand, feeling the connection between us, but weak, distant, like his life. He really was dying.

Panic stirred in my belly as I bared my teeth at him. If anyone was going to kill my consort, it would be me. I ran my claw carefully down his dark blue vein, cutting through the skin until he was bleeding freely.

“Are you trying to kill him?” Vervain asked, more curious than shocked.

I snarled at him. “The blood in his veins is poisonous. I need a donor.” The wolf-fairy guard would do. I closed my eyes and summoned him from his position outside the door, at attention. He wanted to prove himself as loyal to the queen, not a werewolf, but a fairy. I needed to do something about that. If he was born in Fairyland, he was mine. He didn’t need to question it, and no one else did, either. The next second, he was there, kneeling beside me. He cut his arm from the wrist to his elbow, so his blood spilled freely, mixing with Slaughter’s. His cut wasn’t nearly as precise as mine, but he was overeager to prove himself.

I gestured to the blood, weaving Felix’s into Slaughter’s vein as the poisoned blood fell to the floor, pocketing the aquamarine-embedded silver.

Once enough of the poison was out of his system, I summoned the moon, the night, and poured it into him, healing him of every injury he’d ever gotten. There had been so many injuries, body and mind, his wolf, his beast, and Max. The poison had taken so much out of him, but it was more than that. He was tired of the burden of guilt and lies. He felt so much guilt that devoured him like the death-sickness did to me.

Maybe I was wrong. I couldn’t read his mind, and it wasn’t likely that a monster like Slaughter could possibly have a conscience, but Max had duty towards rehabilitating fairies.That was true. That was real. It came out of this guilt wrapped around Slaughter, all of his forms, most likely. Guilt was its own poison. Could he truly heal as long as he carried that guilt with him?

Yes. His conscience couldn’t be healed, but his body would be. I was the fairy queen, after all. That had to mean something.

I dug my claws into his chest and drew out the poisonous flesh around his heart, healing it with moonbeams, pressing light and healing towards the rest of his body while working on the heart that had been weakened with every pump of poisonous blood.

I vaguely noticed the others gathering around, watching me work.

“She’s weaving magic out of light energy,” a low voice murmured. “Using her natural affinity for the moon. It’ll probably be night for days while she works.”

“You think it’ll take days?” another voice whispered. “With the massive amounts of energy she’s expending, I doubt it’ll take that long.”

I’d told Vervain I was a crappy healer. It was common knowledge, but apparently my demonstration was notable. His heart still wasn’t beating right, no matter how much moonlight I poured into him. The poison was gone, but guilt still poisoned his will.

What else could I do? If what Vervain said was true, and Slaughter had genuine feelings for me, then I needed to use those feelings to engage his will to live. He was a fighter. I needed him to fight for me.

I stood up, looked around and saw all the fairies looking from me to Slaughter, the monster they hated but were trying to heal. How could you heal someone you hated? You couldn’t. Healing took love, which was why I was so bad at it. Did I have love to offer the monster who had killed so many?

For a long time I stood there, mind reeling, hands clenching. I’d touched him with my claws, but he would need more of that, more of me. That monster in my bed was part of Max. I loved Max, but was it enough to accept his truly terrifying lupin sorcerer? His beast was terrifying enough. I was frightened of Slaughter, of what he could do to twist my love, to ruin me, my people, my world. No sensible person would touch a monster with infernal runes etched into his skin.

I nodded at Felix, who was sitting on the ground, looking like he was about to pass out. “My friends, take him to be healed. Leave me with my consort.” My voice only shook slightly.

They picked up Felix and carried him away, but Vervain didn’t move.

“You too.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you certain, my queen?”

“Leave now. That’s a direct order.”

His face tensed, then he turned and strode out, leaving me alone with Slaughter, Malamech’s second, the monster who had helped destroy my world. Was I certain? Vervain’s question had no good answer. No, I wasn’t certain, but I was going to try to bring him back to life anyway.

I undid five layers of gauzy dress and dropped them on the floor until I was in nothing. He had fabric around his waist, but other than that, was all bare monster. He didn’t look vulnerable without his robes, his armor. I climbed carefully onto the bed, hovering over him until I slowly touched his shoulder. Paler blue specks beneath his skin drifted towards the closest line of red, making the line pulse paler. Weird. I drew a line from his shoulder to his neck, seeing the effect of my touch on him. Paler blue washed over him like the fingers of dawn after a long night.

He responded to my touch even more than I expected. I took a deep breath and then I curled up on his chest, my head on his barely beating heart. He was so cold. Felix’s blood wasn’tenough to warm him up. I summoned the remains of my dress from where it was scattered over the floor like rose petals, and it floated up and covered us, sealing in our heat. My heat, his lack of heat.

“You can’t die,” I said. “Not until we find out who my aunt was working with that had ties to Malamech, close enough ties that she could use his bindings on you. Unless you gave someone else power over your soul. You’re too smart to do that twice. Except being my consort is exactly that level of idiocy, so maybe you are stupid enough to do it multiple times.” I rubbed my cheek against his chest and then smoothed my hand over the silky skin. His infernal runes glowed brightly beneath my touch.

“Your infernal magical markings are so creepy. Sorcerers are bad enough, but lupin sorcerers tied to infernal power? That’s badder than enough. The Goblin Authority called me soft. Is that what you think? That I’m soft?” I shifted so I was more comfortably fitted between his muscles, curled over his chest and stomach like a lap dog heating an invalid in the winter. “I killed so many of your kind. Is that what piqued your interest? Or is Vervain reading it wrong? I thought that you were soft. I liked you so much. I liked every little thing, from the way you frowned with that twinkle in your eye to the way you smiled. You have a really nice smile. Much better than the Goblin Authority with those elaborate iron teeth things.” I closed my eyes. I was feeling the effort to heal an unwilling patient. I was feeling the exhaustion from drawing on so much power, from so many emotions, so much betrayal.

“I’m going to fall asleep for a second, okay? Don’t roll over on top of me in your sleep. This lupin sorcerer is even heavier than your beast, and I would never wake up. I miss your beast. I’ve never slept so well as when I was with him. You might want to consider therapy with all these personalities you’ve got going on. I know they’re all you, but also, they’re really, really not. I wishyou hadn’t lied to me. I feel stupider than someone who would bind their soul to someone else multiple disastrous times. I’m referring to you in case that was too subtle. Aren’t I getting so good at subtlety?”

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