Page 5 of Shaedes of Power (Soul Magic #1)

CHAPTER 5

W hat awaited me in the throne room was not what I was expecting. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was expecting, but as I walked through the gilded doors, the great room was spilling over with faeries. It would seem everyone from court was clustered into the space, their whispers bouncing off the walls, their nervousness palpable.

The throne room was an intimidating space even without the crowd. It was a large rectangular room with all the most powerful elements of nature on display. The walls and floor were white stone, and the ceiling was an intricate and artistic weaving of Corewood tree branches that formed a perfect dome at its center. At night, it glowed a luminescent blue, but in the light of day, it broke the sunlight into a million different shapes, now cast upon the anxious onlookers’ faces. There were giant torches as thick as tree trunks burning eternal flames in each shadowy corner of the room. A large freshwater moat encircled the raised dais where the five empty thrones of the High Shaedes sat gleaming, a small stone bridge the only access to the dais from the main floor.

I scanned the crowd quickly, catching many probing glances aimed my way. I was still dressed in my human clothes, but I was certain that was not the reason for their stares. I tried to keep my chin up as I finally located Dru’s froth of green hair toward the front of the room.

“Where have you been?” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward where she and Leyanna had found some breathing room near the front of the dais.

“Is the human still alive?” asked Leyanna, trying desperately to sound disinterested.

“He is; he is healing. Your mom was incredible, Leyanna. Though she didn’t look too pleased with me. Everything is fine for now, but what is this all about? Have you spoken to the High Shaedes yet?”

Dru shook her head. “People have been portaling in here for hours from all over the place. I heard a few faeries from Water Court talking, and apparently the human realm was not the only one assaulted by shadow beasts. Everyone is waiting to hear what the High Shaedes might know, but no one seems to have answers. All the faeries on conversancy have been called back. That’s all we know.” A flood of shadow beasts was awful news, but a part of me was thankful for the distraction from my own personal problems.

“Opal? Is that you?” came a familiar voice from behind me.

“Astor!” I exclaimed, turning to wrap my arms around the six-foot-six warrior. He had obviously not changed at all physically while I was away—we stop aging noticeably around age twenty. But his was a face too pretty for battle. With a shaede so green that his lips held a touch of the color, even his arms were now showing veins tinted just slightly with a greenish hue. He wore the traditional tunic of the green soldiers, pale leather pants, and knee-high boots. His sword glimmered from where it was strapped behind his back, a weapon that looked gigantic even against his towering frame. Faerie men were not very muscular; they didn’t have to be. Their strength came from their magic, unlike humans’, who had to build their bodies from scratch. But Astor always seemed a little more toned than the average faerie.

Embracing Astor felt remarkably comfortable and familiar. When I eventually released him from my arms, I gave him the best smile I could muster while Dru and Leyanna pretended not to be standing right next to us eavesdropping on every word that was spoken.

“So, can you believe all this? Shadow beasts all over the courts. Do you know anything about it? It cut our conversancy short.” What a stupid thing to say. I hadn’t seen this man for two years, and all I could do was state the obvious?

“Opal,” he repeated my name, taking both my hands in his and awkwardly looking me over. “Your hair.”

“Yes, I know. I think the Balance has a sick sense of humor or something. My shaede never came in.” More of the obvious.

“You know, I’m sure there will still be a special place at court for you.” He said the word special like it was a dirty thing. “I’ve been very busy, you know? Lots of patrolling. Even had to force a troll out of the Gaylenswood and back to its realm. They are prone to wander, you know, but also get easily agitated.” I nodded mechanically. He adjusted his sword a little, glancing around us, then said loudly, “I’m glad you are safely back home, Opal. But I think we should go back to being friends instead of lovers. Two years is a long time, and who really knows what the future has in store?”

Faeries of every shaede turned to look at us. On any other day, I might have even agreed with his assessment, but the way he was staring at my hair, the twinge of disgust in his eyes paired with the public rejection, all pointed to something more sinister.

“Are you actually breaking up with me because I have no shaede?” I asked, refusing to succumb to an outburst of emotion.

Astor held his hands out, as if he had said all that needed to be said. Dru and Leyanna were now obvious participants in our discussion.

“Astor, you better slither to some other corner of this room out of my line of sight, or I will char you beyond recognition. Starting with your smallest parts,” Leyanna said to the room, dramatically pretending to scan his body with her finger and stopping right between his legs.

It would take a lot more than public emasculation to put even the tiniest dent in an ego the size of Astor’s, but he was ready to be done with me and wanted the world to know. He kept his empty hands outstretched in an effort to feign innocence as he disappeared back through the crowd.

“What an absolute ass. I am so sorry, Opal,” Dru said, putting an arm around me.

“I guess Leyanna was right after all, but isn’t it terrible that deep down I’m not all that surprised. That was the reaction I expected from everyone else—why wouldn’t it be his as well?”

“There is nothing wrong with having high expectations,” stated Leyanna. “But someone like Astor will always disappoint. His favorite person in the world will always be himself. He probably could only make love in front of a mirror. Tell me I’m wrong. But I’m not wrong, am I?” Dru looked at Leyanna with renewed horror. I hadn’t really given our mating much thought these past two years since there really wasn’t much to ruminate about. We had courted a long while before mating after the Summer Solstice festival, and then it was only a few months before I had left on conversancy. I guess it never really felt like it was going to be forever with Astor, but I hadn’t imagined that it would end this way.

A door opened unexpectedly toward the left of the throne room, and all musings of my short, intimate life with Astor were erased in an instant. The five High Shaedes entered silently, one in front of the other, crossing the stone bridge right in front of us and taking their respective seats on their thrones. Each wore an ornate circlet of silver that peeked out of their long, hooded robes. My father in crimson, my mother in saffron. The other Shaedes also wore their corresponding colors: green, blue, and orange. All five looked over the crowd with weariness in their eyes.

The orange Shaede, a man named Lorspire, spoke first in a low, deep voice filled with warning. “I sense in all your minds a curiosity and a fear that this realm has not known for ages. We wish we could bring comfort and understanding to the faerie courts that have been invaded these past forty hours by the dark magic of shadow beasts, but alas, there is little to tell and lots still to learn.” My eyes flashed to my parents, stoic and imperial-looking on their thrones. Their flawless features were shadowed by their hoods, their eyes showing signs of deep fatigue.

“We call Leyanna, Dru, and Opal before the seat,” commanded the blue Shaede called Betta.

There was nowhere to hide now, so we crossed the bridge to the dais and stood timidly before the Five. Dressed in human clothes, exhausted from the whole ordeal with the shadow beast, and staying up all night, I thought I might collapse at their feet. Dru, without hesitancy, flung herself into her father’s arms. The green Shaede, Brilan, welcomed her warmly, clearly relieved that she was back unscathed and perhaps even a little impressed. He was proud of his daughter, who had taken on a beast and lived to tell the tale. A twinge of jealousy, followed by the heat of shame, made my cheeks burn.

Leyanna and I knelt before the thrones and stayed there until we were spoken to.

“Opal,” came my mother’s voice. I looked up at her slowly, ready for pity, bracing myself for disappointment, but saw in her golden eyes only relief as well. She held out her hand to me, and I took it, noticing her fingers felt cold as she pulled me to my feet and into an embrace. “I am so glad you are back,” she whispered against my hair. “There is darkness coming for us, and we are all stronger together.”

My father was suddenly there beside us, his firm hand on my head, stroking my hair, and echoing my mother’s warm words of welcome. It was a touching scene, this homecoming. Our audience made soft, empathetic noises, and as I turned to join Leyanna, I even witnessed a few tears.

“We are glad you are home safely,” continued Betta. She was a whisper of a woman. So short and thin that her cerulean robes looked like they might be trying to swallow her. She was one of the oldest faeries at the Shaede Court and one of my parents’ best friends. “It would be helpful to hear your account of what happened in the human world. We understand you witnessed a shadow beast attack a human unprovoked. ”

“We didn’t see the attack happen, or not—at least not how it started. We arrived at the scene when the human was unconscious and about to be eaten by the beast,” explained Dru. I hoped she would just keep doing all the talking, she was good at sounding official and was definitely more involved in the attack than I was.

“Do you have any idea why the dark creature targeted this particular human?” Betta asked.

Dru and Leyanna fell silent. I guessed no one was going to sell me down the river but me on this one.

“It’s this one,” said Lorspire, pointing directly at me without even giving me a chance to confess. “She thinks she is the reason that he was attacked.”

“It was me,” I admitted, directing my response to my parents. “I had accidentally used magic to heal him earlier that evening—the shadow beast seemed to almost smell my magic on him.” I shuddered, remembering the wet sucking noises of the beast over Farris’s limp body.

If the High Shaedes were upset at my mistake, they didn’t show it. Betta leaned over to whisper something to my father, and Dru’s father spoke quietly to Lorspire.

Betta nodded and began again. “You were right to kill the beast; they are insatiable creatures that feast on fear and magic. But three such young fae are lucky to still be alive. What you encountered was one of the smaller, less intelligent breeds, where there are some the size of dragons. Others often seem impossible to kill with impenetrable flesh or supernatural speed and strength. This realm has not seen active dark magic cross its threshold in many millennia. The human realm is ours to protect, thus they have experienced even less of its evils. Shadow beasts are the creatures of the Night Court, forever imprisoned in the realm of shadows, as we know. They cannot portal out. But it wasn’t just a shadow beast attack. Seven fae have died, and twelve still remain missing. Fearing the worst, we had to send our soldiers to hunt the beasts, unsure of what other dark magic might be at play. But our warriors needed to be better prepared to effectively eradicate these creatures and defend against unknown threats.” She paused for a moment and exchanged a serious look with my father. My mother was looking at me, and I swore I could see a tear running down her cheek.

All five Shaedes stood up simultaneously and removed their hoods. My mother’s gorgeous goldenrod ringlets had turned stark white, as had every head of the other High Shaedes.

There was a collective gasp in the court.

Emotions ran so high that the room rippled with magic. The fire torches plumed erratically in their respective corners. The moat started to boil and steam. Perryflower petals rained down on the crowd as if the trees were crying. Even without explaining the strange change in their appearances, we all knew. In an effort to better equip our armies, the High Shaedes had done what many of their predecessors had been forced to do in times of uncertainty—they had released most of their magic into those in need.

Dru collapsed to her knees by my side, sobbing. Leyanna knelt down to console her. I tried not to look at my parents like they were already gone. Plenty of Shaedes still live for hundreds of years even after releasing most of their magic, but something about seeing them all standing there, so quickly and irrevocably changed—it seemed dangerous. Risky. The five most powerful faeries our people knew had just become our most vulnerable.

“Mother, why?” I squeaked. My voice sounded broken, easily drowned out by the wails of the court.

“The power of the Five is not really ours to possess, Opal. We had no choice. It is as Betta said, the shadow beasts were overpowering. They were killing our people, tearing through villages. It is our duty and our destiny to protect the realms. I am so sorry.”

The fact that she was apologizing to me, as if in this moment she should waste her breath on such a sentiment, absolutely broke my heart. I wanted to run to her, to throw myself at both of them and find a way to put them in a bubble. To protect them from any kind of harm in their weakened state. But Betta remained standing, urging the crowd to still, and gestured for me and Leyanna to take Dru off the dais. I stole a glance at Brilan, who smiled sympathetically at his daughter.

“Although it is difficult, my friends,” Brilan began, “there is no better way to spend a life than to serve the Balance and partake in its blessings. I think I speak for all of the High Shaedes, that to know we spelled our magic to end this invasion of beasts is a high honor indeed.” He looked to his right and left, and all the High Shaedes nodded their assent. “Of course we will be holding a renewal ceremony, since you deserve leaders who are at their best. Luckily, tomorrow night is a celestial event, so the Balance can be summoned to select five successors to these thrones among our strongest and most capable Shaedes. But for now, to better understand how these beasts escaped their confinements and why they might be hunting our magic, we must entertain the princes of the Night Court. We must have answers.”

The thought of a renewal ceremony was bittersweet. On one hand, the thought of anyone taking my parents’ seats made me ill. Looking up at them on the dais was the only childhood I’d ever known. They were always conducting ceremonies, throwing palace parties, meeting with high fae from other courts, and having serious conversations behind closed doors. I’d grown up splashing in the moat and climbing on the thrones. But on the other hand, they had served for almost two hundred years. I was so worried about my own shortcomings all the time. Maybe it would be a sort of reprieve to get to worry about them for a while. Once another faerie took their seat, I imagined a role that I actually could play in this life. Maybe I would even move them to the Gaylenswood to dwell with the forest faeries or Langbone Pass, the Fire Court.

“How is this happening?” whispered Dru hoarsely. “And now we are inviting the Dark Princes to court? I wish there was a shadow beast somewhere nearby to stab.”

“Well, it’s at least nice to see your grief has moved on to anger,” mumbled Leyanna.

Meridee appeared at my father’s side. He gave her some instructions, and she went to stand to the right of the dais. Most likely because the High Shaedes couldn’t afford to expend any more power, Meridee set about making a portal in a shadowy part of the room. I didn’t know much about the Dark Princes other than their origin story and their banishments—the most important detail being that they were trapped inside their realm, unable to portal anywhere the sun touches. If they were invited, they were allowed to portal out, but even then, they were confined to the shadows.

I scanned the room quickly, noticing that the portal was taking form right on the edge of where the Corewood tree coverage was giving the greatest shade.

“They are some of the oldest known faeries, you know. I wonder if they look as demonic as they are depicted in books,” said Leyanna.

“Living without sunlight probably does something to the complexion,” I mused, trying to focus on the portal and not my parents’ tense figures sitting on the edge of their seats.

The portal jumped to life, and Meridee stood aside, allowing the High Shaedes a clean line of sight to the supernatural doorway. The crowd of fae had never been so quiet, holding some sort of collective breath for the unwanted guests’ arrival.

The first man that stepped through was medium height and pale, even against the crisp white shirt he wore, which was tucked into black leather pants. He wore a long, floor-length, black vest that was lined with crimson and made of a fabric that looked almost liquid when he moved. He had long, night-black hair that fell past his waist, and his facial features were graphically drawn, every line with a severe edge.

The second man who entered the space was clearly related to the first. Perhaps an inch or two taller, but the same porcelain skin, the same raven-colored hair—although his was cut in short wavy curls that framed his rectangular face. He wore a red leather jacket that also dusted the floor, but with nothing underneath, exposing his pale, naked chest and abdomen, which contrasted harshly against his black pants and leather boots. His eyes were haunting, wide and deep jade, outlined by thick lashes that gave him a strangely effeminate quality despite the sharp, masculine edge of his jaw.

There were two other men who crossed the portal behind them that were armed to the hilt, a battle axe drawn in one hand while the other carried a sword of dark, gleaming metal. They were also dark-haired, but darker skinned. I could see scars on their faces even from where I stood on the other side of the room. Faeries with any sort of markings were a rare thing since our healing powers usually restored our bodies back to their original flawless forms. Whatever had cut these men must be dark magic, indeed.

The last to cross into the shadows was a smaller figure hidden beneath a dark cloak made from the same fluid material as the Dark Prince’s vest. The hooded guest floated over to stand with the princes, and I heard Lorspire say to the other Shaedes that he wasn’t able to hear any of the newcomers’ thoughts. Apparently, he was locked out of their minds.

My father arose, and I grabbed Dru’s hand out of sheer anxiety. He walked nearer to the edge of the dais to address the mysteriously looking group. “Welcome to the Shaede Court. Thank you for coming. Ciaran, Edmyn, it is an honor to meet you.”

The long-haired faerie stepped forward, the toe of his boot inches away from the cascading sunlight. He smiled wickedly, as if the taste of danger delighted him. The portal remained open behind them, a blurry frame of darkness.

“And not a day too soon, I should think.” He winked at no one in particular. “It’s only been certain millennia ago that I graced these holy halls of great magic. I can only imagine what has kept the Shaede Court so distant for so long, without as much as a Summer Solstice greeting or even a wellness check. For all you know, we could all have been dying or dead.” He smiled like the thought gave him secret pleasure. “I am Ciaran, Prince of the Night Court. This”—he gestured gallantly toward his taller, curly-haired equal—“is Prince Edmyn, my brother. We have come at your request, but the pleasure, I assure you, is all ours.”

“That is a clever turn of phrase and a bold step to accept an invitation to a realm that you have undoubtedly been attacking with your Balance-forsaken monsters,” said Betta angrily.

“Perhaps it was a bold step to invite someone to your court who you accuse of attacking your realm. By the way, white is a beautiful color on you, Betta. You wear it well.” Ciaran smiled sweetly, and this time I could see that several of his back teeth came to points as sharp as tacks. Betta looked like she was going to lash out, but my father continued speaking.

“How did you do it?” he commanded, his tone impatient. Ciaran glanced behind him, where Edmyn stood impassive, looking almost bored, whereas the entire crowd of fae was leaning in to listen, fear and anticipation causing a stirring of my own magic inside.

“Oh, I don’t know,” lamented Ciaran dramatically. He obviously loved the attention. “Perhaps the better question is why did I do it?”

“So you admit it?” asked Brilan. “You admit to releasing wild shadow beasts into the realms?”

“Oh I’ll admit to more than that,” Ciaran crooned. “I portaled my pets to cause a little mischief, yes. And I might have even borrowed some of your faeries, just for a little while. But really, my greatest offense is this.” He took one glorious step into the sunlight, to the horror of all present. At first, everyone turned away or covered the eyes of their children, bracing themselves for his consequential bursting into flames. But when there were no flames and no hysterical screams, everyone just gaped in disbelief that the ancient dark faerie of legend had somehow broken his curse and could now walk freely among them.

“What is this kind of magic?” Betta asked. Then, addressing the other High Shaedes, she stated the obvious. “If he can walk in the sun, then he can step out of the Shadowlands and portal anywhere he chooses. The beasts answer only to him, so they can be called to go anywhere now.”

Ciaran looked maniacally happy, as if he had been waiting an eternity for this moment, and he pretty much had. “But wait, my dear High Shaedes, there is more. Something of particular interest to the red and yellow of you.” My parents looked confused. Ciaran was building up to something. He closed his eyes and appeared to be basking in the warmth of the sun on his face for one long moment before reaching out his hand to the small, cloaked stranger. Edmyn’s eyes became laser-focused on the High Shaedes now, and when his face was concentrated on something, all his features came alive and were really quite beautiful .

The cloaked figure reached out a slender hand and allowed themself to be led into the sunlight, right before the dais.

“I would not show up to your court without a gift of sorts,” said Ciaran. He threw back the hood of his companion to reveal a faerie who I had never met but whose face I had memorized from hours of staring at its portrait. Amira. My sister. My lost sister.