Page 16 of Veil of Monsters

I hear someone nearby calling for help, pulling me back to the present. “I have work to do,” I state.

Grimshaw leans into me, and like all Snake Kind, they smell like rodents to me. “My kind have waited for a goddess-born-mortal to be born. She will be fae and save all the races. If you need anything, I am your servant, my queen.” He straightens before walking off to a group of Snake Kind that are in terrible shape but are watching him like he is their ruler. He wouldn’t call me his queen if he knew Emerson doesn’t remember me. I rub my face, leaning on a post and sipping on my water.

“Calli?”

I swiftly turn, looking around the beam to see Ailen and Sahana, both of them holding hands, but it was Ailen who spoke. They look terrible, covered in ash and dust, but it doesn’t matter to me, because I’m nothing but glad to see them. I run over to them, dripping my water, and they hug me back just as tight in the middle of them. None of us say anything for a long time. “You remember me?”

Ailen pulls back. “Calli, of course we do. I don’t know where you went, but I’m glad to see you here, alive and doing well, by the looks of it.”

Sahana frowns. “Why would we ever forget you?”

I sigh, stepping back. “It’s a long story. Zurine is nearby if you need to see her, but she doesn’t remember me. Did your sister get out?”

She nods. “Yes, she is back there.” I follow her direction to four fae, her sister included, sitting together. I end up walking over when I see one of the fae looks familiar and is pregnant. When I’m standing in front of the Fae King’s ex-girlfriend, I can only ask. “Is that baby his?”

Another fae sneers at me. “Does it matter? She is injured and pregnant. Help her!”

She has a point, but I’m no healer. Emilana stands with my help, her leg covered in long scratches that the bandages have soaked through. “Never mind, come over here so I can clean that up.” Ailen helps me get her over to the chairs, and I grab some supplies before coming back. I carefully pull the dirty bandages away and clean her leg with water. She hisses. “Do you even know what you’re doing, half breed?”

I roll my eyes at her insult. “I’m helping you, Emilana.”

“Only because of the baby I’m carrying. Yes, it is his,” she finally answers me. I don’t say a word. It’s not why I’m helping her, and I’m sure a part of her knows I don’t care that much. Emerson, might, though. This baby will be his great-nephew or great-niece, and an heir to the fae throne, which I know Emerson doesn’t want. I will have to tell him about the baby, at some point, when his memories are back, preferably. I carefully begin wrapping her leg with the new bandages, Ailen offering me new ones as I go.

“Are you two okay?”

“We’ve just got here,” Sahana answers. “The Flames saved our lives in the city. They showed us ways out of the city with the tunnels from the library. They showed all of us here on the way out.”

“Are the Flames here?” I question.

Ailen looks pained. “No. They stayed with their books. There libraries are magically protected, but I suspect they won’t last long against him, the male king from the Rift.”

My eyes soften. “I hope they get out. I know how much they mean to you.”

He nods, looking down and handing me the last bandage. When I’ve tied it, I look up at Emilana. “Keep still.”

She frowns, her eyes widening as my ice spreads from my hands all over her leg. I see the tension fade from her shoulders. “That wasn’t your power.”

I stand. “This half breed has two.” For the next few hours, none of us stops. Ailen and Sahana have to sit down to rest, and I lose them in the crowds as I’m called to help others. So many are badly injured, and they don’t have much time, and Emerson’s healers are stretched too thin to fix everyone. I know Emerson would have sent every one of his healers to help, but as Zurine said, not all of them have sympathy for the fae they have been at war with for years. I help as much as I possibly can, until my power feels like it’s close to the edge of draining me and my legs hurt.

My heart’s breaking at the dozens of children who pass by me, the many I help into the lost children’s tent, which is crammed full. Most of the children do not know where their parents are, and they are just crying. It reminds me of being a child and how many times I cried for foster parents I lost. Louie’s parents flash across my mind’s eye for a second, along with Louie as a young boy when we were first left alone together, starving for food. He was always so brave and kind, despite losing so much. Now he is a monster. A monster who is worse than any I’ve faced before because I love him. My love for him is a weakness he will use to kill me.

I’ve just finished helping a little girl with some new clothes when I hear a female cry of pain. “I’ll be back.”

The girl doesn’t reply to me. She has been silent since I found her hiding in the corner of the tent. I look around the edge of the tent, pulling back the thick material, and pause. There’s a dark pathway between rows of new tents, mostly empty except for a few barrels of water. There’s a female fae in a long blue gown, on her knees in the mud, clutching her arm. Two Wyern males stand over her, both of them laughing. I don’t even pause before rushing over, picking up what they are saying as I get closer. “We only asked for you to beg, fae. You come over here, demanding and taking. This isn’t your city, and you are not welcome.”

“I—I was only asking for food. I’ve been here over a day, and I’ve not eaten, I hoped—”

“Just shut up,” the Wyern growls, kicking her hard in her chest. She rolls over several times in the mud, crying out. I jump over her body, making the Wyern pause as I protect her.

I glance back at her, the fae female lifting her head as she holds her stomach, her blonde hair falling down her pale shoulders. “You’re the mortal who was turned.”

“Stay there,” I tell her, turning back to the Wyerns, who look pissed I stopped their play time. “Beating up helpless females? Isn’t that against your rules, your king’s laws?” I remember Emerson telling me something about the laws.

They look at each other. “He won’t find out, but I’m sure he would commend us for teaching an ungrateful fae a lesson. We’ve been enemies with them for our entire lives, and now we’re opening the gates and letting them in just because their city was destroyed. Do you think they’d do the same when it was the other way around?”

“No, I don’t,” I begin, and they look smug until I finish my sentence. “This time of war will be remembered in the history books as the moment the Wyerns, who were called monsters, became the heroes. Not the villains.”

“Why should we listen to you?” he snarls.

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