Their pointed looks chilled him.
“To acquire this book would mean we would be able to go back, having the right power to do so. You see, fey rings are quite peculiar things, and it is quite a sensitive process. We are fortunate enough that your world is filled with unique magic and have been able to survive decades without any dire consequences. Which brings us to you.”
They exchanged glances before another said, “You are another puzzle entirely. We have watched your progress since birth, and though, yes, you come from impressive lineage, one could say you are much more unique than that. One who can bend the laws of time. What an extraordinary gift to have at your disposal. But it would very much seem a lot of it is untapped, perhaps even suppressed.”
“I never asked to be different. I have barely used it!”
“Exactly.” They spoke in unison; their voices overlapping and creating a sick melody.
One sighed then said, “You don’t crave to use it for power. In fact, if we have a firm understanding, you wouldn’t want this power at all if you had the choice. But what if we could give you that option?”
They had his attention. Staring into their lifeless faces, their white smirking demeanors, he treaded lightly. “And what would you propose exactly?”
“You bring back the book from Adair, and we will free you. Not only that, but we will help you kill the Mad King.”
Nothing is that simple.
“You’re telling me that you can end what we have been fighting for years if I say yes— guaranteed?”
They all nodded their head simultaneously.
His heart ached. Uncertainty was the only thing he had known in his life, of his past, present, and future. To perhaps allow the sliver of hope that things could be different was poison.
Faces flooded his mind: Memphis, Alby, Bryd, Nyx...Emory. His family. Wasn’t he prepared to go to whatever ends it took to allow a promise of a life worth living? One without death, fear, and loss. Isn’t that what he had always wanted? This was his only solution. However uneasy he felt about this situation, Brokk couldn’t say no.
They knew this.
Taking a steadying breath, he set his jaw stubbornly. “You give me your word that you will follow through with your promise.”
He couldn’t give up hope. Not yet.
“Then it will be done.”
The one closest to him pulled out a long-curved silver knife, its teeth glinting before Brokk. Stepping forward, she unbound his hands and, in one motion, grabbed his wrist and slicing the blade across his palm. Warmth spread throughout his arm, and blood pooled, dripping loudly on the floor.
Uninterested in him, the group sped over to the grouping of stones once more, flicking his blood onto them. A gentle hiss sounded, accompanied by their whispers, their foreign language taking over the silence.
He took it all in, frozen in place. For what felt like an eternity, he watched, then they finally slowed as the emerald blaze returned, crackling happily. The flame died as quickly as it came, sending them into darkness once more.
His breath hitched. He couldn’t see a thing.
Breath lightly tickled the side of his face, his skin instantly crawling in reaction. They had surrounded him once more.
“We forgot to mention one tiny...little...detail.”
He flinched back, bellowing, “Face me!”
He was met with silence. Suddenly, one candle was lit, and he was almost nose-to-nose with their leader. They all circled around him, breathing heavily. He couldn’t look away from their eyes and undiluted fear laced through him.
His stomach dropped. “Who are you?” The fear in his voice was hard to mask.
“We are the Oilean, or maybe you will understand the term, fey. We were once wish granters, tricksters. But that’s in the past. We serve a higher purpose now, and we are here to set the course right. It all begins and ends with you, Brokk Foster.”
The room filled with whispers.
“We came to your world out of curiosity. There were whispers of two children being born from royalty who would destroy everything we knew and loved. We watched and saw the course set from your father. He should have known that our magic would not resonate with your world. And Adair... There is a darkness in him that cannot be undone. Now, I’m sure you are thinking that we promised. We promised to help you end this rebellion if you returned the book, yes. We personally will not harm your friends.” A pause, then, “But I cannot speak for your actions.”
What?
A fistful of hair was ripped from his head, and he yelped; tears pooled in his eyes. The candle was extinguished, and a metallic glow pulsed from the stones.
Blood now trickled down his cheek as well, and he heaved against an empty stomach. His arms shook when he came back to a seated position. His world spun on its axis, feeling lightheaded; he had to hold on.
They had gathered around the stones once more, throwing his hair in, and the once sickish green glow turned a burning red.
What had he done?
They swayed around the flame, holding hands and chanting in a language foreign to his ears. Their leader tossed one more unseen item into the flame, and with a gust of energy, an inferno rose toward the ceiling. Reds, oranges and golds twisted in the light.
“It is done,” she whispered.
They all lowered their hands and gently whistled a soft, low key. The fire settled into embers, and Brokk gaped.
Movement was sifting the coals to their sides, sparks exploding as they rolled onto the floor. Slowly, human hands grasped the siding of a
