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“The Council has been watching the barrier since the end of the Great War,” he told her. “Looking for weaknesses.” His eyes went to the doorway still guarded by his fellow Fae and Claire bit her lip. She had given the Council a weakness, but maybe she could fix it?
She released his now healed arm and checked over her Triad. She hadn’t felt any pain from them during the fight which was probably good or her tenuous control over her magic would have probably slipped and done something drastic.
“Can you fix it?” Desmond murmured, nodding towards the doorway in the barrier. “It might help the chill in the air.”
Claire bit her lip and nodded. “I’m going to try for sure.”
She walked over to the doorway. Even though the Fae guarding it still looked at her suspiciously, they moved over for her to work. She thought about drawing her daggers but something about that didn’t feel right. They were designed to open the barrier, but she was going to have to fix it with her magic.
She checked to make sure her bonds with her Triad and Puck were securely over her magic before letting it fill her hands. Imagining she was weaving, Claire layered her magic over and over in the doorway, trying to attach it to the magic on either side until the barrier shimmered back. It had been a long time since she weaved. The last time her hands moved through this familiar exercise, she had been weaving baskets to carry potatoes in at the orphanage in Windshire. She was a long way from there.
When she finished, she took a step back and assessed the barrier. It was a patch for sure. If one focused, they could tell that this was the weakest point in the barrier but it also wasn’t wide open for anyone to come through. It shimmered in the air, creating an almost opaque view to the outside world. She could make out the fuzzy shapes of the Council guards but no details. This is how the Fae knew her group was here, they were vaguely able to see out to the otherside. A defense mechanism that was intentional Claire was sure.
She turned around after she was done assessing the patch. Desmond and Everett smiled at her while Malcolm watched the Fae warriors who were just staring at her. Maybe it was time to try and plead their case again?
“While that wasn’t our intention,” she began, gesturing towards the other side of the barrier, “it is why we are here. The Council’s corruption has gotten out of hand. They are trying to build an ultimate weapon and we have reason to believe one of the ingredients they need is here in the Fae lands. We’ve been searching for answers with clues that my mother, Winona, left me. The last letter she left at the Academy said my father had something for me.”
Her voice tilted up at the end, turning that last sentence to a question. Claire hadn’t really let herself think if her father was alive or not. After learning of Winona’s death, she didn’t dare to hope that he might be. Surely, if he was able to, he would have found her by now or made some attempt to find her.
The Fae warriors exchanged looks and then looked to the twin Fae standing between the warriors and Claire’s group. One of them answered, “We will need to take you to our elders, to corroborate your story. We haven’t had outsiders here since the end of the Great War, much less any who are able to take down the barrier. You will state your case to them and if they find you worthy, we will share what we know.”
“I thought the Fae were ruled by royalty?” Desmond asked. Claire realized he was fishing for information about her father.
The Fae exchange looks. “Things have changed,” the twin Fae said simply. “The Elders rule now.”
Things had changed? Did that mean her father was dead?
Although she hadn’t let herself hope too much, the Fae’s words felt like they snipped the last thread of hope inside of her, sending her plummeting into a wave of grief. Holly crossed over to her, grabbing onto one of her hands and squeezing tightly. Claire felt her grief abate just a little as Holly tried to take off the edge and she shook her head at her friend. She appreciated Holly’s efforts but she couldn’t run from the emotion for forever. Besides, they had Fae elders to convince. Claire would fall apart later, when her friends and Triad were able to help catch her.
31
The Fae warriors led them along a barely noticeable path as they traveled deeper into the Fae territory.
The ground was soft and looked like red sand. The plants were more scraggly and leaner than anywhere else in the Realm. Their branches were wooden and wiry and the leaves had a waxy appearance that made Claire think the Fae lands didn’t get a lot of rain. Still, small purple flowers dotted the branches as tall grass waved in clumps. There were a few small groves of trees planted around. One grove looked familiar.
As they got closer, Claire realized why. The trees stood out from the rest, their trunks and leaves shades of gold, silver, blue, purple, and red. These were Elven trees growing on Fae lands. Did her mother plant these?
Two of the Elven trees grew into an arch that reminded Claire of the gate to the Elven Forest at the Academy. Was this another gate to the Forest? The trees were thin and young so maybe not?
A few paces from the grove of Elven trees, a stone arch stood out of place from its surrounding. Something about it called to Claire’s magic but the Fae warriors kept them moving when Claire wanted to linger. Maybe she could come back and investigate later. Provided the Fae let them.
Ahead of them, thick stone columns as wide as Claire was tall and as tall as Malcolm’s dragon towered from the ground in a large circle, forming a circular arena. As they entered the ring of stones, it was clear that someone must have alerted the rest of the Fae as the circular arena was filled with at least twenty more Fae warriors who were surrounding a raised platform that held five carved stone thrones that five Fae sat upon.
There were three male Fae and two female Fae. One of the female Fae sitting on the end looked bored. When she caught Claire staring, she shot her a wink. Claire found herself smiling back before she caught herself. This Fae reminded her of Greta. She wondered if the two knew each other before the Great War.
The thrones the five Elders sat on were ornately carved and looked very regal. These must have been the thrones where the royal family once sat. Claire wondered if one of the thrones belonged to her father? If things had been different, would one of these thrones be hers?.
The Fae warriors who had been leading her group stopped them at the center of the circle before joining their fellow warriors surrounding the dais. The twin Fae stayed closer to Claire and her group. She didn’t know if it was because of her or because of Holly who’s face had gone unnaturally still. Desmond moved closer to Holly. The twin Fae watched Desmond with an eagle eye as he placed a hand on her back. Claire could feel the Energy of his healing magic as he sent some into Holly and her face eased. Someone must have strong emotions in this place.
The Elders gave them no time to take a breath before immediately barraging her with questions.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” the middle Elder barked. His brown hair was streaked with gray and his green eyes were piercing.
“My name is Arielle Clarissa Mayfaire,” Claire said again, “The daughter of Winona and Erick.”
When their faces showed no change, Claire briefly recounted the events of last year, explaining how she grew up in the Windshire orphanage with no idea of who her parents were. How she received a letter to the Academy and attended, learning about her magic, learning who her mother and father were, trying to figure out who was behind her mother’s death and who was really responsible for starting the Great War. She spoke briefly about the clues that her mother had left, ending with the last letter she had found from Winona about her desire for Claire to go to the Fae lands as her father had something from her.
When she was finished, the stone circle was silent. The Fae Elder that reminded Claire of Greta, sat up straighter in her seat. “That is a pretty story you have woven.” Her voice had a slight rasp to it. “But they are just words. How can we trust you?.”
