The Aetherfae (8 page)

“Your point?”

Candace smiled at the Sasquatch staring her down. “You can alter humans, right, why not alter our scent?”

Tse-xo-be smiled. “That is possible.”

“What would that accomplish,” Amadahy snapped. “The tracker would recognize the end of one scent trail and the beginning of another.”

Candace shook her head. “Not necessarily. Think about it…”

I nearly choked when she said it, but Candace was on a tangent.

“…We need to go to a populated area, one with thousands of people passing through. You alter us there, preferably during heavy rains, and then we simply disappear into the masses. Some of you could even do what Tadewi did with Maggie at the Seoladán—take her shape and scent. Lead the trackers off in a wild goose chase and then disappear.”

“How is it you know what I did at the Seoladán?” Tadewi asked.

Candace turned red. “I read Maggie’s journals.”

“Her journals?”

“Yes. Thank you for saving my friend—I owe you.”

A half-smile formed on Tadewi’s soft face. She seemed amused and turned to Amadahy with a smirk.

Gavin didn’t bother to hide his amusement when he turned to Amadahy, crossing his arms. She didn’t say a word aloud, but silently she said, “
I will admit the girl is clever
.”

“
She is exceptionally bright—you have no idea,”
Faye replied.

“It will be raining in Washington D.C. for the next two days,” Billy offered.

“Then we leave today,” Tse-xo-be said.

Tadewi looked past me, towards the farmhouse. “Maggie, your family is waking. For your mother’s sake, you will probably want to be downstairs when she comes out of her room.”

Candace and I walked back through the Fog. It was beginning to burn off in the morning sun. Gavin caught up, dimples and a broad smile plastered across his face. Candace tugged my hand, stared into Gavin’s face, and exhaled. She crossed the porch to the living room, leaving Gavin and me alone.

“You’ve been keeping a distance,” I said.

He took my hand, his chin resting against his chest, and looked at me through his brows. “I want nothing more than to be at your side, holding you, but I know that isn’t what you need right now. You need them,” he said, shifting his eyes to the house, “and they need you.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and let him support my weight. “I love you, Gavin. Thank you for understanding.”

He pressed his head against mine and took a deep breath, my body riding the swell of his chest. “I love you, too. Just being near you is all I need.”

I pulled him a little tighter and he gently lifted me off the ground. That’s all I really wanted, contact without talking about my dad or my feelings—I wasn’t ready to go there. He knew that and it made me love him even more.

“Do you think Candace’s plan will work?” I whispered in his ear.

“It will work as well as anything—until we can eliminate the threat.”

I threw my head back and stared into his eyes. I’d seen the look before when Chalen threatened me after the Earth trial. “So there is another plan?”

He studied my face like he was unsure whether he should tell me.

“Gavin?”

He glanced back over his shoulder, toward where the Ohanzee Elders were sitting. I threw my Air barrier around us.

“Maggie, they know when you do that.”

“Well, duh, but that doesn’t mean they have to listen. Spill it.”

“When your family is safe, and before you set off
on your own
…” He emphasized the last words.

“Wait, you know I’m leaving?”

“Of course,” he said in a somber voice. “…before you set off on your own, we want you to help us track Dersha. Locate her, and Chalen…”

“To kill them?”

His thick eyebrows pressed together and his lips curved down. “Yes.”

“Good,” I said in an attempt to make him feel better. He looked down for a second, grimacing, and then forced a smile—a fake, half-hearted one.

“Gavin, who is Dersha? Do you know her?”

“She is an ancient. And yes, I do know her. We once belonged to the same clan.”

His pained expression made sense. “She was an Olympian?”

He nodded. “We were friends a long time ago. She is as much a victim of the clan wars as anyone. Perhaps more so.”

“I don’t recognize the name.”

“Like me, she doesn’t use her Olympian name. She once called herself Pandora.”

“As in the box?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, and looked at me through his brow. “For the record, it was a Jar—but she is one and the same.”

“Did she open the…jar—like the legends say—and let loose all the evil in the world?”

Gavin laughed again. “I’m afraid this is another example of humans getting a story wrong after retelling it over and over. The real story has been perverted into a parable. According to Greek legend, Pandora was the first human woman—created by Zeus.” Gavin laughed again. “Zeus didn’t create anyone, and she, most assuredly, is not human. According to human mythology, Zeus gave her a jar—or a box—that contained all the bad in the world. Zeus warned her never to open it, but she was unable to contain her curiosity.”

“So, what really happened?”

He sat on the porch steps and waited for me to join him. “At the end of the first war, after Surero, the first Maebown, destroyed Ra, Ozara visited my clan—in force.”

“You told me once before that the original clans didn’t take sides in the war.”

Gavin shook his head. “No, they did not. Ozara has never forgiven them, either. She came to Olympus to lure two Olympians away, offering them both positions on the Seelie Council to replace two who fell in battle.”

“Let me guess, Pandora was one of them.”

“No, in fact she was not. Ozara had her sights on Ares and Poseidon, two of the twelve leaders of the Olympians. They considered the offer for a month. It was a terrifying time. Leaving would have weakened my clan, made us more vulnerable to the Seelie and Unseelie, so Zeus begged them to stay. A month later, Ozara returned to Olympus demanding their answer. Ares was loyal to Zeus and refused her. It angered her, but I suspect he was never her real focus. Poseidon, well, he was loyal to no one. He agreed to join the Seelie on one condition.”

“A condition? I’m sure Ozara loved that.”

Gavin smiled. “He demanded Zarkus’ head. He believed that since the Aetherfae, Ra, was dead and the Unseelie were weakened, Ozara should make good on an old promise: to hunt down and destroy the Unseelie elders—Zarkus specifically. Ozara said no, of course—one doesn’t dictate terms to Ozara. She said the war was over and the killing was done. Had Poseidon wanted to take Zarkus, she said, he should have fought for the Seelie when he had the chance.”

“Okay, wait a minute, why did Poseidon want Zarkus destroyed if the Olympians didn’t take a side in the war?”

“Poseidon was first and foremost an Atlantean Fae. Zarkus and the Unseelie destroyed Atlantis over six thousand years ago. Poseidon was the lone survivor. The Unseelie didn’t just destroy Poseidon’s clan—they destroyed the island. Flattened it to the ocean floor so no trace remained. Poseidon came to the Olympians as a refugee.”

“You’re telling me that Atlantis was real?”

“Yes, it was real. Not quite what Plato imagined, and not as old as he suggested, but it was real. Its destruction drove Poseidon to the brink of insanity. One Fae, more than any other, helped Poseidon recover from the torment of losing everything he loved.”

“Pandora?”

“Yes. When Ozara declined Poseidon’s demand to destroy Zarkus, he became belligerent and threatened her. Only Zeus prevented his death. Ozara sought to punish Poseidon’s public outburst and reestablish the Seelie’s dominance. She took the one thing that Poseidon held dear. She forced Pandora into a bronze urn and sealed it with Aether.”

“She was innocent…that’s…I don’t have the words.”

“It was barbarous. To make it worse, Ozara left the urn at Olympus to torment Poseidon. She promised to open the jar when the Olympians apologized for betraying the Seelie—when Poseidon swore his allegiance to Ozara. When she returned to the Weald, each Olympian took turns trying to free Pandora. Poseidon tried for centuries. Not one could release her.”

“How long did Ozara keep her in there?”

“Ozara didn’t open the jar. I don’t believe she ever intended to. Pandora was in the jar for over two thousand years. Not until the next Aetherfae came along was she freed. It was Dagda who opened Pandora’s jar. We didn’t recognize Pandora when she emerged. Ancient, radiant, and kind when she went inside, what emerged was a malignant, dark, rage-filled specter of her former self. She attacked the Olympians—it took the five ancients to repel her. She blamed her torment on their hubris and pride. She blamed Poseidon most of all—she has tried to kill him on several occasions.”

“Does she blame Ozara?”

“I’m sure there is a festering hatred for Ozara too, and that may be the reason she now fights for the Rogues.”

“And that’s why she joined the Unseelie?”

“No, she is not Unseelie. Not exactly. She did fight for them—a debt she owed Dagda for releasing her, but she was little more than a mercenary. You see, more than anything, she now delights in bringing misery to my kind, regardless of the clan. She leaves misery and chaos in her wake—not so far removed from the legend, is it?”

EIGHT

A PHOENIX RISES

M
y father’s funeral wasn’t anything like I expected. I was sad, sure, but seeing his body did something else to me: it deepened my anger. Mom, Mitch, Grandma and Grandpa, they all cried. I tried to, but I couldn’t. I felt pain and loss and heartbreak, but I couldn’t muster a tear. I wanted to cry because somehow that would feel normal, but I just grew angrier. I replayed the moment he collapsed in my head over and over, each time followed by his last words to me, “You’re so strong. I understand now.” Something much darker than grief festered in my heart.
What’s happening to me?

I lingered when my family returned to the house and prepared to leave. Vermont, the isolated farm, we didn’t belong there—we belonged in the Weald. We wouldn’t be going back that day, or anytime soon after, but I promised my father that we would go back. With Mom’s permission, Tse-xo-be cremated my father’s body and gathered the ashes. He put them in an urn Tadewi created. She etched it with the bluffs from the Weald.

I carried the urn into the house, reluctant tears finally finding my eyes, and handed it to Mom. She looked at me with gentle eyes for the first time in two days. I wanted to say something to her, but I had no words. What could I say? After a few moments, she gently pulled the urn to her chest and walked away, closing the door behind her.

* * *

The rain began to fall hard a few minutes before we crossed the yard to an enormous white SUV—the latest iteration of Doug’s Jeep.
Great!
I threw up an Air shield to keep us dry. When we got to the vehicle, feet wet in spite of my shield, Tadewi handed me a wooden box about the size of a briefcase.

“What’s this?”

“Everything,” she whispered.

“Everything?”

“Faye and I packed up your belongings before we left Florida. It’s all inside.”

I laughed. “Thanks for trying. This is more than I thought you saved.”

“Maggie, it’s all inside. We left nothing.”

I unhinged the latch and didn’t recognize anything inside. Like an old tin full of buttons, there were tiny objects of every color. I picked up a small pink square an inch wide and two inches long. “My Thunderbird?”

Tadewi nodded. “When you get to a safe place, I will change everything back—unless you learn how to do it first.”

“Thank you so much. I thought we’d lost everything.”

“It was Faye’s idea. She knew how much some of these things meant to your family.”

“Did you get the garden journal?”

She reached into the box and fished out a small square book little more than an inch long. “Right here.”

“Oh my gosh…” The garden journal was the most important thing to me. It signified everything about my family’s connection to the Weald, and was the one journal I didn’t leave hidden in the cottage. I brought it to Florida it to keep it safe, but after the hurricane I thought I’d lost it forever. She transformed it back to its original size and handed it to me. After thumbing through the first few pages, I slid it into my backpack.

Mom wasn’t happy about moving the family so soon, but she agreed when Tse-xo-be explained that we were being “stalked” by Naji’s counterpart. In fact, she was paranoid. She climbed into the big white Lincoln and hollered at Mitch through the open door. “Move boys, we need to leave.”

He and Justice walked with Doug and Ronnie, lugging their bags in no particular hurry. The rain didn’t seem to bother them. Candace helped my grandparents climb into the second row.

“Mitch, please hurry,” Mom said, while scanning the woods surrounding the house.

“Okay, okay, Mom.”

“Now, Mitch!”

I couldn’t read her mind, but I knew she was seeing images of Naji’s face and hearing his words when he said he’d come for all of us.

Under a veil of Clóca, the Fae watched from the field as Ronnie loaded the bags and slipped behind Mitch into the third row. Doug climbed in next to me in the driver’s seat. He hadn’t said two words to me since we arrived. A few minutes before we left, Tse-xo-be let him, Ronnie, and Candace call their parents. Since we were leaving, he said there was no harm because the Fae tracking us would find our Vermont hide-away in the next twenty-four hours regardless of what we did. Doug had seemed happier during the call, but even more withdrawn when it ended. I couldn’t blame him.

Justice stood at the open door and growled at something across the pasture. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. Justice’s snarls enhanced the nerves I was already feeling, and the sensation of being watched returned. I closed my eyes and let my mind float out of the car. I concentrated on Mara.
Find Mara.

My mind moved quickly, but not very far. Floating above the branch of the huge sugar maple at the edge of the woods where Mitch and I talked the day before, I abruptly stopped.

“Justice, come on, boy,” Mitch called. I could hear him from across the grassy field some three hundred yards away.

“Come on Justice, come on,” Candace joined in trying to cajole the big dog into the Navigator.

I turned and looked. Justice stood fifteen feet from the open door of the white SUV, baring his teeth. I had seen him do that before. With Chalen, with Cassandra, and with Drevek—across the field my heart pounded like it was jumping out of my chest.
She’s here.
Without thinking, I snapped back into my body and sprang from the car, forcing the door shut behind me with my mind. With my invisible grip, I lifted Justice and pushed him into car.

“What is it?” Mom wailed when I forced the door shut and wrapped the Navigator in my strongest Air barrier. Anger, rage, fear, they all mixed in my chest and I used them to pull up Quint. I lashed out at the tree in the space above the branch where I’d just been. The Ohanzee didn’t move from their hiding place a thousand feet away. I stood exposed for several seconds, expanding my Air barrier around the car and myself. She could be anywhere around me.
I wish I knew her alignment. If she can make Clóca, she has to be either Water or Air, right?

“Show yourself!” I snarled.

Nothing happened.

Are my nerves just getting the best of me? How could Justice sense what the Fae cannot?
My nerves tingled—the sensation of being watched was stronger than ever.
No, it’s not my nerves. She is here. Watching me. She’s close.

I readied the raw elements of Fire and Earth, prepared to combine them into Quint, and quickly pushed my Air barrier out in all directions. I felt nothing as it doubled in size, but as it doubled again I felt her. She was behind me. My Quint missile hit the spot where I felt her, and in less than a second from when I made contact. It sizzled on her Clóca barrier and disappeared. She moved closer to my family. I leapt toward her in a cradle of Air over the top of the Lincoln. I made it half the distance before she grabbed me.
So, you’re Air-aligned.
She began forcing me down, but I subconsciously changed my Air barrier to Clóca. Her connection to me failed, and I dropped like a rock. Before I hit, my mind switched back to Air and I reappeared next to the driver’s side door.

Again Mara grabbed me and pulled me toward her. Once again I shifted my barrier to Clóca, and I immediately stopped, her grip vanishing.
Clóca defeats Quint. Good to know. It also cuts off Air.
I expanded my Air barrier even further, pushing it out into a giant ring. The instant I made contact with her, a pair of massive black wings appeared as Wakinyan dropped onto her barrier, blue energy mixing with orange. She blew him away a few hundred feet, but he lunged again.

Somewhere in my mind, I recognized the attack coming. My dad’s face flashed through my thoughts and I heard my mom’s voice in my head. I wrapped Clóca around myself and the car, so strong it shimmered like a mirrored dome. Her Air attack washed down the sides of the barrier and gouged huge chunks of earth and stone out of the ground in a circle around us. Everything shook and I tumbled to the ground. Lighting struck her shield and then penetrated. A scream filled the valley. She didn’t sound hurt—she sounded furious, and it sent a shiver down my spine. Out of the corner of my eye her barrier strengthened, becoming visible the instant before she shot away. Wakinyan gave chase, flinging powerful bolts of lightning in her wake. He stopped when she disappeared.

“What was that?” Mom asked in a shaky voice as I climbed back into the SUV.

“Doug, drive, please. That was Mara, I think.”

“Is she gone?” Mom asked.

I turned around in my seat and immediately felt a pang of guilt. They were all terrified. “I think so,” I said. “Doug, please drive.”

“Into the giant ditch?” he said, staring out the windshield.

“I’ll get it,” Tse-xo-be said in a disembodied voice.

“Which one of them is that?” Mom asked twisting in her seat “Not the bad ones, I hope.”

“It’s Tse-xo-be…a good one.”

Tse-xo-be repaired the damage and Doug accelerated out of the yard onto the paved lane that ran down the hill toward the main road. Every nerve in my body tingled, making it impossible to project. I concentrated on calming myself—I had to track Mara. By the time we turned south on Highway 7, I was breathing normally. But I was the only one in the car doing so. Doug’s hands shook on the steering wheel. Grandma’s eyes were clamped closed as she rocked in her seat. Grandpa craned his neck to stare out the side-window. Mom was looking at me, both hands and arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. She was terrified.

“Mom?”

She diverted her attention to her lap and took a deep breath. There was something odd about her behavior. Well, more odd than it should have been, even given what she’d just witnessed. She wasn’t clutching Mitch like I expected. He was snug in the third seat with Ronnie’s arm over his shoulder and Justice’s head in his lap. He stroked the dog’s head with one hand and had a white-knuckled grip on both Candace’s hands with the other.

“Mom?” I said again.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

“Yes, yes, you will,” I said emphatically.

She glanced up at me with the most bizarre look, still clutching her stomach. She didn’t say anything else. I knew by the look in her eyes that she was worried about something, and it wasn’t just herself. She had the same look when Mitch fell off the roof in Boca Raton and broke his arm. She had it the entire time he was in the hospital.

Past Dorset, we drove south through the wooded mountains. I stared at the distant peaks that rose and fell beyond the trees lining the road. “I really don’t know what to say to any of you, except I’m sorry.”

“Mags—” Mitch started.

“No Mitch, please, let me finish. I didn’t ask for this, but like Aunt May used to say, it wouldn’t matter if I did because I’m in the middle of it whether I like it or not. All of you are in the middle of it now. As much as I tried to keep you out of it, I failed. I’ve lied to all of you so many times over the past two and a half years. I know an apology won’t cut it, but I’m going to apologize anyway and promise that I’ll be honest. There is no point in trying to hide it now.

“The Ohanzee have a plan. Well, it’s Candace’s plan. Anyway, if it works, we’ll be able to hide you from them. You’ll be able to disappear.”

“You’ll?” Mom said. “You’re not planning to go with us?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Why?” Grandma said, her voice cracking.

“Do you think you’re a, what did you call it, a Maebown?” Mom asked.

I stared at her, unsure of what to say.

“I read the journals, Maggie, and I know what you think you’re supposed to be.”

“Think? No, I know what I am.”

“No you don’t. You can’t do all those things yet. You don’t have to be one of them—you might not be one of them. You need to stay with us. We’re your family, Maggie. Don’t we deserve to have you with us? Can’t someone else sacrifice themselves?”

“Sacrifice?” Doug said, staring at me. “You never mentioned that.”

“Uh, apparently you missed that part in my journal.”

“Shut up,” he snapped. “You never mentioned sacrifice. Your dad, your aunt, Rachel, haven’t there been enough sacrifices already?”

“That’s just it: unless I do this, there will be more and more just like them. The Fae who want me dead are bent on exterminating everyone. If I give up, they’ll get their way. And Dad, Aunt May, Rachel, all the others, they’ll die in vain. I won’t let that happen.”

“Maggie, we need you with us. I need you,” Mom pleaded. “I haven’t told you…I didn’t know how.”

“Didn’t tell me what?”

She wiped a tear from her eye and quickly wrapped her arms around her stomach again. “I’m having a baby, Maggie.”

My head spun.

“Your dad and I were going to tell you, but he…” she heaved, “…I don’t know how to do this without him. How can I do this without him? Without you?”

Dersha’s voice rang through my memory. “Four hearts,” she’d said. In my head I wrote,
Did any of you know?

“Yes, Maggie,”
Billy said silently. “
We know.”

Well thanks for telling me,
I responded.

“
It was not our place. How could the rogues know?”