Let Me Fly Free (4 page)

“
Naturally.” I suppose even
if the unicorns
had
figured out what the source of the danger was, they’d have no
reason to tell us. They are above us in every way—immortal where we
are mortal and Celestial where we are Terrestrial, with powers so
great that my abilities look like flickers of candlelight in
comparison. All my life, I’ve had to listen to Cyim tell me not to
worry about matters beyond my day-to-day existence, for they were
not my concern. Whatever happens beyond our borders, whatever
forces of fate drive the world forward, I have no say and no
influence, and therefore my role is to simply stay safe. Since the
unicorns are our guardians, they’ll be the ones to handle the
danger, while all we may do is wait helplessly for them to save
us.

But reason is no match for the
disgruntlement in my gut. Though I’ve abided by the unicorns’ rules
all my life, things are different now that the Infernal has
breached Kristakai’s borders. I have a right to know what’s going
on.

“
I wish the unicorns
wouldn’t hide things from us,” I grumble.

“
Amdyth wasn’t hiding
anything.” Kiri brushes a strand of long, pale blond hair out of
her face. “She simply did not have time to explain to me what she
knew. Not that it would have made a difference if she
had.”

“
I still want to
know
.” I look Kiri
straight in the eye, and I can almost see my brilliant green irises
reflected back in her ice blue gaze. “We’ve been taught all our
lives to simply listen to them and let them take care of us, but I
want to be more than a docile hearth, confined and reliant. I want
to be able to make my own decisions and fight my own
battles
.”

“
I understand.” Kiri turns,
looking into the distance, her face suddenly creased into a
surprisingly fierce frown. “Do you know how often I’ve thought
about what it must be like to be human—free to roam, yet constantly
under threat? Though now that something wicked stalks these woods,
I’m not so sure I want to find out. Living in constant fear… Is
this what their lives are like? Would we really want
that?”

“
If the threat were
constant, we’d be prepared,” I reply quickly. “Our ancestors once
lived as the humans do now—even back when Infernal creatures
prowled the Terrestrial Realm unfettered. They fought alongside the
unicorns and humans and dozens of other races to drive back the
forces of evil, and if they could do it, so could we.”

She nods, her face hardening with a
determination that belies her delicate build. “I believe that. And
if I encounter the creature, I won’t run. I’ll blast it so far into
the sky, it’ll never come back down.”

I regard her, somewhat surprised. I wouldn’t
have expected such words to emerge from her demure, petal pink
lips. Yet her statement reminds me of why I was drawn to her in the
first place—not just for her beauty, but for that secret strength
that dwells beneath her fragile exterior. I’ve grown so accustomed
to her presence, I’d forgotten it was there.

And prior to this threat,
there was nothing that would prompt her to reveal it. Though she
remains untested, like myself, I take a moment to appreciate what
she has
not
done.
She has neither trembled nor panicked nor cowered, and when she
heard Cyim’s warning, instead of going into hiding, she came
looking for me.

Just then, a flickering red light steals my
attention from Kiri and I whirl, half expecting to find the beast.
Instead, my gaze falls upon a pair of rapidly beating wings, which
glow as bright as rubies against the back of a dark-haired fairy,
flying several yards away and leading a line of six others, each of
whom possesses uniquely colored wings with patterns of silver,
copper, or obsidian streaking across turquoise, coral, or
ivory-colored gossamer. None of them seem to notice me as they head
westward. Though the leader is no taller than my forefinger, I’d be
a fool to assume her weak, for I’ve seen what her magic can do. The
look on her ebony face is one of hardened resolve, and she sweeps
her arm in a wide, beckoning gesture at the six other fairies
behind her.

I call out her name. “Naadri!”

Naadri pauses midair, hesitating for a
moment, before flying toward me. As she approaches, she twists back
to shout, “Continue the journey! I’ll catch up to you shortly!”

I knit my brows. “Journey? Where are you
journeying to?”

Naadri hovers before me, tugging nervously
at the violet vest she wears over her otherwise plain white outfit.
“I’m taking my family away from Kristakai until the monster the
unicorns spoke of is dealt with.”

“
You’re
fleeing
?” I give her an incredulous
look. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised—Cyim’s message did tell
everyone to do whatever they could to remain safe. Still, I’d hoped
I wouldn’t be the only one who wanted to fight for our land.
“But—”

“
My magic is no match for
an Infernal creature,” Naadri interrupts, her tone defensive. “I
would not be able to protect my family from it, so I’m taking them
someplace safe.”

Despite the logic in her words, running
still strikes me as cowardice, and it’s all I can do not to scowl.
“Where will you go?”

“
To Yessalem.”

Recognizing the name, I blink in
astonishment. “That’s a human city.”

“
Exactly.” Naadri purses
her lips. “Whatever threatens Kristakai, it must have come because
it wants magic. That’s the only explanation for it attacking a
unicorn-guarded domain instead of the more vulnerable territories
of the humans. If it wants magic, then there’s nothing for it in an
unenchanted place.”

Kiri takes a step toward her with an
expression that seems to mirror my own surprise. “You really think
you’ll be safer among the humans than under the unicorns’
protection?”

“
I do not know.” Naadri’s
voice is taut. “This monster has already breached the unicorns’
most powerful spells—the ones around Kristakai’s borders. I trust
the unicorns, of course, but I will not risk the lives of my
children. I cannot allow them to remain here. Many others are
leaving as well. You—” She breaks off abruptly.

But I know what she was
going to say:
You two should leave,
too.
Except we cannot, and she knows this.
Though it was a harmless slip of the tongue, it reminds me that I’m
chained to this land, thanks to the actions of those who lived
thousands of years before my birth, and my blood burns. Because of
them, I—and my kind—will have to stay and face whatever is
here.

It makes me even more determined to
fight.

“
I’m aware that the human
world is rife with danger of its own kind,” Naadri continues, as if
she hadn’t misspoken. “But at least they are known dangers.” She
glances away, in the direction of her departing companions. “I’m
afraid I must go. I wish I had more to tell you.”

“
Good luck, Naadri.” Kiri
gives the fairy a parting smile, and I know I should as well, but I
only manage a slight quirk in the corner of my mouth.

Without another word,
Naadri flits off, her red wings flashing, and I watch until she
vanishes from sight, wishing I could follow. Not to flee the
danger, but to escape the imprisonment. Envy pierces me as I recall
how she said the human world held “known dangers.” Known to her,
perhaps, but to me, they’re only myths. Tales from storybooks and
descriptions from motionless tomes. I can read about the world
beyond Kristakai as much as I want, but that’s not the same
as
experiencing
it.

“
Perhaps we should follow
her,” I mutter.

Kiri turns to me in shock. “You know we
can’t.”

“
Why not?” I lift my chin.
“I’ve walked along the borders before—even extended my hand past
them. There are no physical barriers keeping us here, only
rules.”

“
And our lives.” Kiri gives
me a stern look. “We wouldn’t last a week.”

I bite my lip, knowing she’s right. I can’t
count how many times I’ve stepped right up to Kristakai’s border
with Nikhilim, the human kingdom adjacent to this domain, and been
tempted to take one step more. But my life force would begin
draining the moment I did, leaking from my body like water from a
basket.

I’d have mere days before it bled out
entirely.

I’ve wondered if it would be worth the risk
to leave this land for a day at a time, then return to replenish my
strength. There’s nothing stopping me from doing just that … and
yet fear always holds me back. Not only fear of the unknown, but
fear of angering the unicorns, and having to live the rest of my
life as a pariah for my crime.

“
No other race must pay for
the mistakes of their ancestors.” I grit my teeth. “Yet we are
punished for the actions of those who lived so long ago, their
names have been lost from history. I call that unfair. Especially
now, when our very survival is at risk because we are unable to
leave.”

What did my ancestors do that was so
terrible that even their descendants had to be confined? As far as
I can tell from my readings, the bulk of their crimes involved
destroying a few human properties and luring a handful of
weak-willed men to their untimely demises. The latter was possible
due to a power I possess but cannot use: the power to command human
minds. No other race is susceptible to this particular ability,
though knowing that hasn’t stopped me from attempting it out of
sheer curiosity. Only once or twice, though.

Well, perhaps a bit more than that. Not that
it matters, since I never succeeded.

“
The humans are too afraid
of us.” Kiri’s voice, soft but laced with bitterness, interrupts my
thoughts. “They would have waged war had the unicorns refused to
keep us away from them. But you’re right—there’s no justice in
holding us to an agreement made so long ago.”

I’m once again reminded of her secret
strength, and a trace of admiration weaves through me. She and I
are alike in many ways, and I wonder how I could have lost sight of
that. She’s probably the only nymph in this entire domain who would
agree with me instead of lecturing me about obedience—or telling
Cyim of my words so he could be the one to do it. When I’m with
Kiri, I’m no longer so alone, no longer so different from the
others.

I smile, placing my hand on her arm.

But before I can speak, a scream shatters
the air. I gasp, whirling toward the sound. That cry—it was so full
of pain and anguish. I’ve never heard anything so horrible in my
life, and though the sound vanishes, cut off too abruptly, its
lingering memory shakes my soul.

“
The monster,” I whisper.
“It must have claimed another victim.” That’s the only explanation
I can think of. Every fiber of my being clamors to learn more about
what just transpired, and I’m eager for this chance to confront the
evil being, whatever it might be.

I call upon the magic
within, aiming to fly toward the sound, but before I transform, a
disembodied warmth brushes against my senses, and I know at once
what it means. Somewhere in the direction from which the sound
came, a fire is burning. I can always detect my element when it is
near enough, and as long as I can feel it, I can become a part of
it. Which means I can leap from fire to fire at will, moving
instantly between blazes. Fast as my flight is, this way is even
faster, and I want to be at the scene of the terror
now
, before the beast
has a chance to escape.

In my mind I reach toward that warmth, that
distant flame, and then seize it in the invisible grasp of my
magic. I feel my body dissolve, once again weightless and
unfettered, and suddenly leaping flames surround me in their
brilliant yellows, feeling as much a part of me as my skin. The
fire I was reaching for—I’m a part of it now. And it’s someone’s
hearth—a tame wood fire surrounded by a circle of stone—which I
find amusing given what I told Kiri earlier.

I emerge quickly, resuming my ordinary form
in my new location, and step onto the stone floor of a cave
dwelling, glancing around.

My eyes fall upon a sight so horrific it
rips an involuntary scream from my throat, and though I’ve never
trembled before in my life, I find myself shaking uncontrollably,
despite my best efforts to hold myself steady.

Look away, Elaia.
Cyim’s
voice rings in my head, but I
cannot bring myself to listen. I know I’m supposed to be
experiencing sheer, unadulterated horror at the carnage before me,
yet I
want
to
keep staring. I’ve never seen anything like this before, and I find
it disturbing … yet somehow—horribly—mesmerizing.