Page 2 of The Maleficent Faerie
“Push back the maleficent dark, the shadows of the Void!” I repeat the words with Dawn, with the two guards, with the whole roaring crowd, with the shrieking music and the pounding beat. Everything is sleek bodies and lifted hands, shimmering fabric and bright faces, shining eyes and sun-soaked sweat, the glitter of wings and the flash of ivory horns, the quake of the ground as the crowd jumps in unison.
My heart is racing, my body thrilling, and I look up at the midday sky. Rings flash on my uplifted hand, and the light of the Triune Suns crashes into my eyes.
It’s coming—I can feel it—the great wave rolling through everyone in the crowd, surging across the temple courtyard, racing up onto the platform.
A figure steps forward from a shaded bower on the stage—the King, Dawn’s father, robed in white. As the royal Conduits, he or his wife always attend these gatherings. Two long strides bring him up beside the Priest, and they clasp hands, holding their joined fists high as the Surge crests—
It explodes through us all, a wave of quivering light, blasting from the clasped hands of the King and the Priest, rolling outward, reverberating through every human and Fae.
Dawn is gasping, shrieking—practically orgasmic with joy. The guard beside me groans in bliss, lifting his face to the suns. Not even bluesteel armor can divert the power of a Surge.
A tingle runs through my fingers, through the ten rings I’ve worn ever since I can remember. A faint pulse of joy quivers in my heart, and then it’s gone.
All around me, Fae are visibly glowing, incandescent with the influx of magic, while the humans are crashing to their knees, weeping in ecstasy.
And I—
I feel nothing.
I want to cry.
Normally I wouldn’t allow myself to weep in public, but the emotions around me are so violent, so enormous, I allow myself the luxury of a sob or two, and a few tears.
I wanted so badly to experience the Surge—but it’s over, and I barely felt it. I was left out.
In this, as in everything else, I am different. I don’t quite fit, not with the Fae or with the humans.
What is wrong with me? Have I been rejected by Eonnula for some sin I don’t remember? Something I didn’t realize was wrong?
Maybe the goddess is punishing me for bringing the Crown Princess here, when we were supposed to stay in the summer palace. Maybe I’m being condemned for my selfishness and stupidity. Cut off from the Surge, barred from the euphoria everyone else is feeling.
“We have to go.” I seize Dawn’s wrist and tug her backward. Reluctantly she yields, following me through the outer fringes of the crowd. The two guards accompany us, though one of them walks rather awkwardly thanks to the bulge in his pants. It’s not unusual for a Surge to have a sexual effect as well as an emotional one. The temple chambers are wide open to the public after a Surge, to allow Fae and humans to release any sexual energy they want to expend.
Behind us, the rapture of the crowd swells in a new song, one of thanks to the goddess. Teeth gritted, I hurry the Princess along.
“Slow down, Aura,” she complains. “What’s wrong with you?”
“We shouldn’t have come.” I smack the side of the carriage to alert the driver, who wakes up with a start and snatches the reins. “We need to get back to the palace before the King does,” I tell the driver. “Take the road through the forest.”
A guard holds the carriage door open so Dawn and I can climb inside. He and his companion mount their horses, and we begin to work our way out of the maze of parked carriages and tethered horses surrounding the temple. On such days, the temple stables become full quickly, and the vehicles and mounts of the guests overflow into the surrounding streets and fields. We had to pay fifty tenets to a shop owner for our spot near the courtyard.
“What’s wrong, Aura?” Dawn asks quietly. She sits across from me as usual, her cheeks stained bright pink from the Surge.
“Nothing.” I adjust my gauzy wings as I take my place on the carriage seat. They’re relaxed and limp at the moment, easy to manage, but I prefer not to sit on them if I can help it. “I just realized I shouldn’t have let you do this. It’s dangerous. Who knows what the King will do if he finds out we slipped away?”
“My parents love you, Aura. They wouldn’t punish you. Especially since it was my idea.” She sighs, tilting her head back against the seat cushions. “And it was worth it. I’ve never felt so alive.”
“I’m glad.” I force a smile.
“Was it good for you too?”
Men have asked me that question many times. Occasionally I’ve been able to respond with a wholehearted “yes.” But I’ve also had practice faking a blissful expression and lying through my teeth, like I do now, to Dawn. “Oh yes, it was wonderful.”
“Good.” She gives a little wriggle of delight. “I’m so glad we did this.”
She drifts off to sleep within minutes, her head propped against the cushioned side of the carriage. When we travel from one palace to another, she usually sleeps through most of it. I envy her, feeling so relaxed, so safe. So sure of who she is.
For my part, I have to stay awake. I need to be alert at all times, even when there’s no sign of danger. I’ve foiled more than one attempt to kill or capture Dawn—the first time when we were both ten and I stabbed a kidnapper in the knee before he could carry her off. He’d managed to finagle his way into palace service, where he watched for his opportunity to steal her and deliver her to the Maleficent One.
