The Sodden Aftermath

You know, in movies where the characters are either hostages or heroes underwater, I’ve always tried to hold my breath with them, just to see if I could survive in the same situation. Sometimes I could hold my breath for that long, but in reality, the increased pressure and fear of death are too much for me. Even if I'm only swimming for fun, when completely submerged, I panic almost instantly.

When everyone had jumped into the old swimming pool to avoid getting burned alive, the water level (which hadn’t stopped rising) rose above my head. With my feet shackled to the floor, panic set in. I strained against the cuffs around my ankles, pulling up and up to the surface. They weren’t budging.

You can’t call for help underwater.

Before I was really in danger of drowning, however, someone grabbed one of my ankles. This scared me very much, of course, but the tight metal against my skin loosened, and my feet kicked free! The shackles had been unlocked. My wrists were suddenly pulled to one side as well, so I opened my eyes underwater to see Jinge-- Jinge!-- unlocking the cuffs around my hands. My gasp of surprise left me breathless, and I resurfaced, gasping in the smoky air. The fire had died down for the most part.

Ciaran's head popped up soon afterward, but he didn't seem surprised at all to see his formerly dead friend standing next to him and shaking the water out of his ears.

“Jinge!” I yelled, treading water and rubbing my wrists where they’d been chafed. “I'm so glad you're alive!”

He grinned, showing his white teeth. “The same to you, human girl.” he said. I never thought that would sound affectionate.

“See?” Ciaran swam over to me, looking like a happy puppy. “I told you we’d be all right!”

“You knew he was alive?” I had to yell over the noise of everyone in the pool.

“Yes, he met us before we got to the castle!” Ciaran yelled back.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Couldn’t have anyone overhearing. It was a surprise for Brand!” my faery laughed, pointing.

Brand was at the far side of the pool, his back flat against the wall. What hair he had left was stuck to his head, which changed his appearance completely. His face had an expression of utter disbelief and horror as he stared at the very-much-alive half-goblin.

The other people in the pool were very confused. “What in the worlds happened?” and  “When did they put a swimming pool in here?” were two of the their exclamations.

“Hey!” A voice called our attention. Everyone in the old pool looked up at the boy standing above us with magnificent blue flames still dancing off of him. His clothes were completely fine, not even smoking, and the black dragon's head peering over his shoulder made him look all the more frightening. “As Donal, son of King Alder, I declare my rightful succession to the throne. Do you accept me as your king?” he asked.

The ten bystanders who had been out of it until the fire started, nodded their heads like scared rabbits.

“Excellent! You can come out now.”  Donal said, smiling. The fire around him vanished. “I'm sorry!” He called down, holding his hand out to me. “I'm sorry, I had to get a full confession from him before I stopped him! You're all right?”

I took his and pulled my heavy skirts out of the pool. “Donal! Jinge is alive! He’s right there!”

“I know!” the Faery King laughed.

“Sorry, but what just happened?” One of the others asked us.

“Brand was just owned by Donal's awesome fire!” Ciaran said happily.

“What? And I missed it?” A lieutenant among them was greatly disappointed, and hit the water with his fist.

“Don't worry, you can watch it again.” Ciaran assured him. “Donal recorded and broadcasted the entire thing. The entire kingdom now knows the truth.”

Brand did not take this news well. When everyone else was getting out of the pool, he slid down into the water up to his cheeks and started sullenly blowing bubbles in it. Everything he had previously accomplished suddenly came crashing down around his ears in a matter of minutes, so I can't really blame him for being so shocked. Soon only him and Jinge were in the water.  While the rest of us were talking and wringing our clothes out, they stared each other down. Finally, Jinge waved his hand towards the ramp, as if to say, “You first.”

The former villain slowly walked up the ramp and dropped to his knees in front of Donal. His beautiful, long, white hair was now gone, burned in a short, jagged pattern, and his long, elegant coat was reduced to a scorched, frayed shirt.

“Brand,” Donal said grandly. “You will be taken in front of the court, properly and publicly, and given a fitting punishment. Everyone knows what you really are now.” Donal's formal speech suddenly broke when he bent over laughing. “I can’t believe you fell for the oldest trick in the book! You confessed with the entire world watching, just like on TV! Ah, it worked perfectly!” he wiped a tear from his eye. “I can't believe it was so easy! I was so scared it wouldn't work!”

Brand only grimaced and kept his eyes on the floor. The doorway had been crowded with curious faeries-- John and Emilia among them-- but no one was brave enough to come in after the fire.

“Can we get some towels?” Donal asked them. “We're going to need a lot.”

We were brought towels, and made our way to the current throne room. We got a lot of stares on the way there. A soaking/ burned group of people, with a dragon marching down the hall. I was busy trying to piece together what had happened, so I timidly nudged the magnificent king next to me.

“So when did the dragon come in? It's completely random to me.” I asked.

Donal laughed, and reached up a hand to scratch behind the dragon's ears. “This is Sol, otherwise known as Jinge's cat. We thought her species was extinct until now. Turns out they can shapeshift.”

“She saved my life.” Jinge said from her other side. The dragon wrapped her neck around Jinge affectionately, making it difficult for him to walk. He just smiled. She was black as midnight, with a long neck and tail, sleek black feathered wings that were folded at either side, and a head not unlike the dragon at the end of Disney's Sleeping Beauty. She was about as large as a cow, but she purred softly as Jinge stroked her head.               

“Did you know they'd put us in the old throne room? Was that a part of your plan?” I asked Donal.

“No, I didn't know. But Jinge was receiving the broadcast as well, so he came straight to us.”

“There were a lot of guards around the door. I would have beaten it down if John hadn't given me the key.” Jinge said.

“That did work out surprisingly well. How did you broadcast it to everyone?” I turned to Donal.

“With this!” he showed me a slightly melted piece of metal that he'd picked up from the floor. “It's what they call a bug in the human world. We disguised it in an odd casing so Brand wouldn't recognize it, but apparently he pocketed it and forgot about it. It worked out perfectly. Aunt Maud put the camera portion on my shirt, see? I connected it to the Endless Glass, and told it to stream the video and audio to every mirror in the kingdom.”

I blinked. “That sounds really complicated.”

“It wasn't that bad.” Donal grinned. “Aunt Maud worked as a spy during the second human World War, and since then she's been using these to spy on her relatives. The hardest part was the Endless Glass, but in the end, all I had to do was tell it what I wanted. It linked to me and my camera, and streamed what it saw. It was terrifying, though.”

“Okay, last question for now.” I lowered my voice. “Were you really crying?”

“Hmm? When?”

“When Brand was telling you about your dad.”

“Oh, of course I was!” Donal admitted, his face softening. “I thought he would have agreed with Brand, not stick up for me.” He stopped abruptly in front of the doors to the current throne room, which were respectfully opened for him. It was like stage fright. He did not want to go in. Everyone was already assembled inside, waiting. Donal looked back at us, in need of reassurance.

“You’re gonna be great.” I kissed him on the cheek.

Ciaran patted his back a bit roughly. “What she said.”

“If they throw rotten tomatoes at you, you’re on your own.” Jinge added. 

The Faery King laughed, and took a deep breath. “Well, here goes!”

The Final Clash

The lieutenant who had worked closely with Brand during the past few days of military rule was disappointed. Sure, he knew that the young king was only fifteen years old and shrimpy, but still, he didn’t put up much of a fight. All those drills, some of them at three in the morning, and just for a kid who wasn’t even going to try anything cool. Even Brand’s younger brother-- known as the scholarly wimp-- had put on a decent show and fought a good duel, even if it ended with his getting chained up while laughing like a hyena.

Now, instead of this whole royal debate ending with an awesome display of power and swordsmanship, it was going to be words, arguments, interrogations, and punishments. Long, boring stuff, all of it. He tried to disguise his disappointment with a stern, blank expression on his face as they marched down the halls of the castle and to the old throne room where the other prisoners were. He’d expected the kid to have some passion, to be angry, to-- be more rash, at least! But no, he allowed himself to be shoved through the door quite placidly.

The other two prisoners, feet chained to the floor, looked surprised to see him. The all-too-submissive king casually nodded his blond head at them.

“Hey, Ashlyn, Ciaran.”

The lieutenant found that the respect he had gained for the three renegades while they had been so hard to catch had vanished, now that they’d been captured so easily. Some resistance they were. As one of the prisoners, I was thinking about the same thing.

“This is part of the plan too?” I asked Ciaran. He responded with a grimace and shrug, as if to say he wasn’t sure. I turned to the mastermind. “Donal, what are you doing here?”

Donal looked at me sadly. “I’m sorry, Ashlyn.”

“Yes, yes, this whole matter is very regretful. Sit down, your highness.” Brand waved him towards a simple, wooden chair that one of the soldiers placed in front of Ciaran and I, a chair that looked similar to the one Ciaran had seen in his duel.

Donal sat. Brand had the old throne pulled out for him-- a large, silver-gilded chair which was sagging slightly. He sat down in it, leaning an elbow on one side. We faced him and about ten others: soldiers and politically important people. It was all very solemn.

“Now! Down to business.” Brand cheerfully rubbed his hands together. “Here’s what’s going to happen, little king. I suppose you’ll want to protest, but in the end, you’re going to hand over the keys to me, and I’m going to rule over the kingdom instead. How quickly and painlessly this happens is up to you.”

Donal frowned and looked at the men surrounding Brand. “All of you agree with him? None of you see how power-hungry he is?!”

Brand laughed. “Of course they don’t. All they’re witnessing is a fair trial.” he waved his hand in front of the lieutenant’s face. “See? No objections. It’s just us.”

“Is that how you’ve tricked them this whole time?” I asked indignantly.

Brand smiled at me. “Don’t interrupt again, dear.” This shut me up as if he’d put a knife to my throat. “If you need your situation summed up further, fine. You can’t unlock your own shackles, and now you’re bound to a chair like a damsel in distress. No one’s coming to save you. I’m waiting for your answer, little king.”

“You know what it is.” Donal replied coldly. “I can’t let a murderer like you have that much power.”

“Tut tut.” Brand crossed his legs. “Didn’t I explain to you the unfortunate circumstances of your father’s death? No? Well, let me do so now.”

“You won’t get me to believe that he was possessed by a demon. That hasn’t happened for thousands of years, and even if it had, you should have called for an exorcist. There was no call to kill him!”

“Normally, no. But this was a serious case. Your father was spouting nonsense, babbling on about unthinkable, terrible things, and it wasn’t at all like him. He wasn’t himself anymore. He’d gotten soft.”

Dona’s face hardened. “Go on,” he said.

“He had turned crazy.” Brand continued with a shrug. “I did try to reason with him. I told him you were foolish, absent-minded, radical, and far too fond of the humans. If you were king you might even be stupid enough to form an alliance with them one day, allowing them to trample and destroy all we worked so hard to keep hidden. I told him he should give me the right to the throne. I’d protect the old ways, I’d keep the humans out, and I’d keep my head on my shoulders. I deserved it.”

“Protect the old ways? Radical? If you were king, you’d do whatever you wanted, and play with the humans like toys!”

“They are toys.” Brand looked surprised. “Do you really think of them as more than that? Really?”

“Of course I do!”

“Well, that’s foolish. Think of all the fun we can have with them! Starting wars, and watching them fight each other, causing floods, and watching them scatter... They only exist for our amusement. Beyond that, they’re nothing more than troublesome insects, you must see that.”

“I don’t.” Donal disagreed. “If you had spent any time observing them, you’d know they’re more like us than you say. If you--”

“This is where the word ‘radical’ comes to mind. Humans are not like us. Their tiny minds can’t even handle the mere fact that we exist.”

“That’s not true--”

“As soon as they find out we’re not human, it’s nothing but tears and panic.” Brand stood up, starting to pace. “Of course, watching them try to run away is all part of the fun, unless the idiot happens to be your mother.”

Those last words stung, although I wasn’t sure whose mother he meant. They struck me figuratively in the stomach, imposing the twisted, guttural feeling of words that were meant to be left unspoken.

“Shut up, Brand.” Ciaran said harshly.

“Tell me, little king,” Brand went on, ignoring him. “Are we supposed to respect a woman who leaves her husband and sons, and runs away because she can’t handle being apart from the human world any longer?” Brand spat out. “Are we supposed to love a pitiful creature like that?”

“Shut up, Brand!” Ciaran yelled, crashing his heavy manacles against the floor.

“You hate her as much as I do!” Brand shouted back, pointing an accusing finger at his brother. “She only pretended to be happy so she could get away from us! And what did that get her? You don’t know, do you, Ashlyn?” He turned to me suddenly. “Do you know what your precious human race did to her? I’ll tell you!”

“Stop it!”

“They killed her in an alley, and dumped her with the trash. They didn’t have a reason, apart from some jewels she had with her. After all that effort, she didn’t even last one night!”

The image Brand had flaunted in front of Ciaran during the duel: the dumpster in the alleyway... the broken bottle rolling across the pavement...

“Is she the reason you hate humans?” Donal asked, awfully composed.

Brand paused, and smoothed some of the silky, white bangs away from his face. “One of them. ” He sat back down. “The both of you are incredibly stupid for thinking that you can trust any of them, just because this girl here thinks she’s special.”

“Our mother,” Ciaran began unsteadily, looking at the floor. “might as well have been drugged. She wasn’t allowed to know where she was, or what was going on-- for years, she thought she was just dreaming. When reality hit her, it drove her mad because all of her freedom was gone before she knew it. Anyone might have done the same.”

“Any human, yes!” Brand corrected him.

“I want to stop that from happening again, even if it means taking a small risk!” Ciaran continued. “It’s possible to change the way we deal with them; Ashlyn has shown that. We can stop this. Aren’t you tired of lying yet?”

The two brothers stared at each other, one of them painfully sincere.

“As I said,” Brand repeated, unmoved. “Incredibly stupid. Are you going to hand over the bracelet, or not? This is pointless.”

“I’m not going to.” Donal said. “Are you going to kill me to get it?”

“I could, but that would be harder to explain.” Brand said casually. “I think persuading you comes next.” He flicked his finger, like he was flipping a switch.

The floor beneath Ciaran and I suddenly separated from the rest of the room and began to lower itself like an elevator. Donal’s chair was just next to the edge.

“What’s happening?” I squeaked, not liking this new turn of events.

“Ohhh.” Ciaran said, as we were about three feet lower than before. “I forgot the old throne room used to have a swimming pool.”

“You’re joking!” I started beating the weights around my wrists against the ones around my feet, hoping they’d break. “Get us out of here, now!”

“These cuffs are meant to be magic proof! I can’t undo them! But don’t worry, we’re going to be fine!” Ciaran hastened to assure me. The hypnotic bravery must not have worn off yet. I let out a shriek as cold water snaked around my ankles. We struggled to stand up as the water rose, but the weights around our hands made it difficult to stand up straight.

“Freeze it!” I told Ciaran, as the water crept up to our knees. “Freeze the water around the cuffs and make them break!”

“Good idea!” Ciaran agreed (still not panicked enough for my taste), and tried it. The continuously filling pool kept melting the ice. “Um, it’s not working!”

“Brand, stop it.” Donal commanded. “If you hurt either of them, I’ll make you regret it.”

“How?” Brand asked, tilting his head. “With your faery fire?”

As he spoke, the floor beneath Donal’s chair turned into a ramp that slid him into the pool, which was now getting close to three feet deep. Donal’s chair fell backwards, and sank into the water, submerging him completely.

“Donal!” Ciaran and I both yelled, trying to get him out again. In my panic I looked toward the others in the room, the faeries who would have protested this, who should have helped-- they were staring blankly ahead, looking bored. We managed to get his head above the surface, but then Brand stepped down the ramp and pulled him up again, the chair was standing again, but the back legs were still in the water.

“Can you?” Brand asked Donal. “Can you use your fire if you’re completely soaked? Because that’s something that I’ve been wondering for a while. If there’s not a single flame already in the room, can you use your fire at all? If you’d like to try, now would be the time. Or else I might let you drown.”

Donal coughed, unable to reply. There wasn’t any fire in the room. I hadn’t noticed, but instead of torches, there were weird, glowing rocks for lights.

“How are you going to make this look accidental?” Donal asked between coughs.

“I’ll make them believe it was a fabulous escape attempt through the sewers.” Brand grinned. “Don’t underestimate me, boy. I will kill you.”

“Ideas?” I yelled to Ciaran. At that point, I thought I heard someone banging on the door outside, but couldn’t see that far.

“Before you kill us,” Donal began. “Before we die, tell me what my father said before you killed him.”

“You don’t have to die, just give me the keys!” Brand sounded frustrated.

“Tell me! What did he say that made you kill him?”

The water was up to my chest now, and still rising.

            “Is it so important? He said no. He said that he could trust you. That you’d do whatever you felt was right and as king it would be your lawful duty to do so. He said he’d never give the throne to me. So I killed him. And it was easy.”

            Brand paused his monologue, looking confused. “Are you crying?”

            “No. The smoke’s stinging my eyes.” Donal said defensively.

            “Smoke?”

“Behind you.” Donal jerked his head.

Brand turned to see that the door was open, and a trail of smoke was swirling from the nostrils of of a rather big, black dragon. In disbelief, he looked back at Donal, who smiled slowly, and triumphantly.

The dragon opened its mouth, and Donal’s fire was born. Ciaran and I ducked down under the water to avoid the wave of intense heat.  Everything in the room burst into flames. From the storage boxes in the far corner, to Brand’s clothes and hair, to the men standing around the throne. They woke up from their dreams of justice and ran around in panic. They dove into the pool. The cuffs around Donal's wrists melted off, and the wet, wooden chair burned. He stood up.

Brand tried shielding himself from the fire. He tried putting it out, but it ate at his every defense relentlessly. Donal's sword materialized in his hand, and the flames danced across the blade. He didn't need it. Brand screamed from the scorching pain and joined us in the water. 

Everything burned. Donal smiled and held out his hand to the dragon in front of him, the blue flames gently licking them both. “Welcome back, Sol.”

Devices

The faery soldiers, armored lightly, but armed heavily, ran through the halls of the castle in search of their renegade king. The castle had been divided into sections in case of this very situation; he had tripped the marker in Section 9, a remote part of the castle which covered the upper four floors. Faery soldiers were always divided into packs of six, who ran in pairs, each pair holding one device: a type of infrared sensor. This sensor was also programmed to detect a certain metal which would certainly attached to their king’s wrist.

The castle in the Capital of the faery world is no longer as densely populated as it was a few hundred years ago, but it is still the center of social and political matters in the kingdom. The sensors picked up many people along the way, but since Brand had taken charge, the alarms and drills had trained the civilians to keep still while a search was going on.

Brand was also running with the soldiers, his sword still in his right hand. In his left, he held his own sensor. The lieutenant next to him heard his leader murmur to himself, and found it mildly creepy.

“Where are you going, little king? Where are you hiding?”

Donal’s heart was thumping loudly, but he kept his breathing quiet. Almost there, almost there. He flattened himself against the wall, listening to the distance between him and the soldiers. He was running out of time.

Even though the bracelet was only helping them find him faster, it did help him get through any door he needed to. If he remembered right, there were only three more doors to go, but they were also older, heavier, and more creaky doors. A particularly loud squeak echoed down a staircase and brought a pair of soldiers running in his direction. Donal cursed and quickly shut the door behind him.

“I can see him on the sensor.” one soldier called. “He’s gone this way!

The locked doors took them longer to get through. Donal was almost in the same room as the mirror, and from there... that was when the real danger started. Donal fumbled in his pockets for the device Aunt Maud had given him.

"It's easy," she'd said. "They used to have them everywhere in the human world, although I think they're smaller now. This is modified, of course, but it's still easy to use. You just have to push the button and attach it. Just don't go dropping it on the floor like some careless idiot."

As it came free from the lining in his pockets, Donal dropped the device on the floor. He fumbled for it in the dark on his hands and knees.

Back in the old throne room, Ciaran and I sat on the floor quite helplessly.

“What is he planning on doing?” I asked.

“Donal? I can’t tell you, but it’s brilliant.”

“No, I mean Brand. What will he do with us once he has Donal?”

Ciaran shrugged. “He has plenty of options, most of them villainous.”

“Do you think he’ll kill us?”

“Oh, yes. Very likely. But not right away.”

At that moment, the villain’s sword lightly touched the back of Donal’s neck. Donal watched his reflection in the Endless Glass lift his hands up in surrender.

Brand smiled at his young cousin in the mirror. “You look terrible.”

“You have a bruise on your jaw.” Donal returned coolly. Brand’s smile faded. He signaled for the men behind him to bind Donal’s hands. As they did so, they found the device. The lieutenant handed it to Brand.

"What is this?" Brand asked, holding up the small, strange thing.

"Don't you know?"

Since it was very well disguised, Brand had no idea."Of course, but why did you bring it?" Brand pocketed it. “Why did you come here?”

“To take back the castle from you.”

“With the mirror?” Brand laughed.

“It would have told me how.” Donal glared at him. 

Brand laughed harder. “If you were half the king you should be, you wouldn’t need a mirror to tell you that. But since you’ve so kindly unlocked the door for me, I can use it whenever I want. Take him to the others.” He sheathed his sword and gave the mirror a wistful glance before leaving the room. It would be his soon.

The Bravery of Our Hero

As if we’d stepped right into his trap, Brand was again in a good mood, like he had been the night before.

“Disperse and find him! Don’t let him leave.” he ordered. The entire room of faeries rushed to obey him, like one massive swarm. “Take these two away and lock them up.” Brand continued. “We’ll deal with them after this is all straightened out.” Four soldiers, including John, came and surrounded us. The look on John’s face was tragic. I could just hear him thinking, I told you so.

We were taken “away,” which apparently meant down a floor and into another room, an empty one that looked like it was used for storage. So much for outsmarting Brand. Our hands and feet were locked in strange cuffs, which looked light, but were really heavy. The pairs on our feet were bolted to the floor. and then we were left alone. By the voices outside, I figured that we were being guarded from the other side of the door.

I lifted the cuffs around my wrist to eye level. Shiny. “Can you get us out of these?”

Ciaran (who hadn’t stopped smiling since the duel) brought his hands up above his head, and then crashed the cuff down onto the floor. Clunk!

“If I had a few days, probably.”

This was my chance to let off some of the steam that had been building up inside me, like a tea kettle on a stove. “What were you thinking, anyway?! Charging in here and fighting? You said that facing him head on by yourself was the last thing you wanted to do!”

“Did I?” Ciaran frowned, trying to remember.

“Yes! You told me there was no way you could beat him.”

He shrugged, smiling and rocking from side to side. “Well, I had him where I wanted him. It’s safe to say that I’m awesome.”

This carefree, confident version of Ciaran was unexpected. “What is wrong with you?”

“Hmm? Nothing’s wrong. For being held prisoner, I feel great.” he gave the storage room a cheerful glance. "I think this is the old throne room."

I leaned as close to him as I could get, which wasn’t close, trying to see his face. “You’re not... drunk or anything, are you?”

“Drunk? No, I don’t think so. It doesn’t matter. I’ve waited all my life to see Brand get caught off guard and punched in the face like that.” he smiled, deeply satisfied.

“So, you don’t care that they’ve found Donal and that Brand will now successfully take over the kingdom?”

“That’s not going to happen. But if it does: completely worth it.”

I was dangerously quiet, listening to my inner tea kettle-- which had only been simmering up until now-- start to boil. If it were a cartoon, steam might have begun coming out of my ears. Ciaran hastened to explain himself.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, this is all part of the plan. Donal thought of a really good one. It’s sure to work.”

“Oh, really? He just got caught, remember?” I accidentally let the heavy cuffs land on my thigh. “Ouch!”

“Don’t hurt yourself!” my faery said reproachfully.

I glared at him. Yeah, I was being reckless... “Why exactly did you think that a duel would be a good idea?”

“I didn’t, but Donal convinced me. It was my role as the distraction.” He rolled onto his back and began lifting his cuffs up and down as if they were just weights for exercise.

My eyes narrowed. “And... how did he convince you?”

“He’s very persuasive.” Ciaran yawned. “He just told me not to be afraid, and at first I was saying ‘Don’t you dare!’ but then I realized, he was right, and it was a great idea.”

“And then you realized?”

“I know! I wonder why I didn’t see it before.”

“He hypnotized you into doing it?!” Of all the-- “Ciaran, what kind of a spineless sap are you?”

“Don’t be mean.” The sap turned away from me, pouting like a child. “You’ve got to remember, that kid’s been training at this stuff every day for the past four years. And I didn’t get any sleep last night. Besides!” he turned back to face me, suddenly grinning again. “I did well, didn’t I? He said you’d be really impressed with me if I did a good job.”

I laughed, hunching over my heavily bound hands and feet. “I give up. The guy I’ve like since my freshman year suddenly kidnaps me, makes me like him again, and then leaves me to get captured. And just when I think he’s being manly and stupid for recklessly coming to save me, it turns out that it’s just because he’s been hypnotized.” I chuckled. “And now you’re a prisoner with me. But you don’t care, because you’re basically flying under the influence.”

“The adrenalin probably isn’t helping either.” Ciaran added, not at all offended.

Shaking my head, I added, “I’ve only ever seen you sad, or wounded, or suffering from a guilty conscience, and now drunk on adrenalin. I don’t really know you, do I?”

“I’d say you do. And if you don’t, there’ll be plenty of time for that once this is all over, won’t there?” he looked up at me sweetly. “And besides! You must be impressed with my cleverness after seeing me stand up to Brand, right? Right?” 

I shook my head at him. “I give up.” I repeated, chuckling. “Yes, you did a good job.”

The Duel

“Ashlyn, you can’t stop them once they’ve started fighting! It’s against the law!” John called after me. I could hear him and a confused Emilia running behind me, but they must not have been able to see me well enough to stop me. The faeries were rushing through a certain door, which got filled up and crowded before they could all get through it. I pushed and shoved my way through any empty spots in the crowd in order to get in. Being invisible isn’t the best way to go in a crowd: I got stepped on and elbowed in the face a few times.

There were gasps and murmurs throughout the crowd, the fighting had already started. There were flashes of light, weird noises, and the metallic clanging of swords. Finally I could see them between two heads, when a momentary lull was taking place.

The two brothers stood facing each other, opposites with their black and white hair, swords drawn. I’d never seen Ciaran with a sword before. In fact, I’d never seen him on the offense, ever. Since he’s always been either wounded or on the run, I imagined that he didn’t even know how to use one. But he stood in what looked like a practiced battle stance, and he held the sword with one hand. He was twirling it, actually, a slight smile on his face.

“I thought you said you were done with violence, bookworm.” Brand said lazily. He had no shield, and inspected the fingernails of his left hand as he spoke.

Ciaran raised a mocking eyebrow and tilted his head. A weird aura rippled around him like the surface of a pond, and he became a little worm on a closed book, waving a tiny sword. The crowd laughed.

Brand swung his sword up to block as Ciaran suddenly appeared beside him, lunging. They both had fast reflexes, but Brand was stronger. He threw his younger brother several feet away with one push. Ciaran got his footing back.

“Not to sound cliché, but--” he panted, and rushed forward to attack again. “Where is she?”

“Your lover? Don’t worry, I won’t kill you until she gets here.”

“Much obliged.” Ciaran said dryly.

Their blades crashed together again. It was getting more and more intense. I fought through the crowd to get closer, but the room was packed. You’d think that they would have picked a larger room to hold such an important fight in.

“Is the human girl here yet?” Brand called out. “I wouldn’t want her to miss this.”

“She’s here.” someone called out. I didn’t know who; they weren’t close to me.

Brand grinned. “Good. In that case, watch carefully, Ashlyn. Watch as I--”

I growled in frustration. The stupid crowd! “Wait! Not so fast!” I yelled, straining to see them.

Ciaran had stopped and stood still, as Brand had disappeared. In his place was a chair. It was just a plain, ordinary wooden chair, but it made him pale.

You haven’t forgotten, brother? Words no one else heard except Ciaran. He turned to see other strange images flashing around him, most of which were either too fast or didn’t make sense to the rest of us. The only one I recognized was an alleyway with a dumpster in it, a broken bottleneck rolling across the pavement.

Brand was just toying with him. Whatever significance these images had, they seemed to have an effect on Ciaran. His guard was lowering.

I elbowed a poor faery in my way and finally broke through the front lines. Maybe it was my half-invisible state, but I could see Brand’s figure coming into focus, ready to stab my faery in the back.

This will be more awesome if you imagine it in slow motion, with the sound of a heartbeat drowning out whatever it was I yelled as I rushed forward to save my poor, stupid Ciaran from certain death. I think that I meant to tackle him to safety, or at least to warn him about Brand’s position, but as he turned around to see him, he was too slow.

Brand stabbed him through the chest, in one, swift motion. Ciaran fell to the ground before I could get to him. The crowd gasped.

I reacted immediately. Brand looked surprised to see me, and confused as my slightly transparent right hook caught him on the jaw. He staggered back, right as I was surprised and confused to see another Ciaran to the left of us.

We stared at each other. I looked back at the other Ciaran on the floor. He faded. The Ciaran staring at all those images had been the fake. The new Ciaran and I stared at each other again, and then at Brand, who’d fallen to the floor.

Ciaran burst out laughing: hoots, knee-slapping, and everything. It was very irreverent for a man who’d almost died. “You punched him! Brand! You just got punched by a girl!”

He wasn’t out of trouble yet. I grabbed him by his collar. “You let me think you were dead!”

“Don’t kill me!” my faery giggled, gasping for breath. “I was clever, wasn’t I?”

“Clever?! Why, you--”

“Enough!” Brand got up, nursing his jaw. “You think this is over? You know the punishment for interrupting a duel, don’t you?”

“Punishment?” I echoed.

“What does that matter now?” Ciaran cut in, standing up straight. “If I could beat you so easily, you’re no match for the new king.”

“You didn’t beat me!” Brand snapped. “If it wasn’t for your stupid girl--”

The fire-alarm-noise went off again, only louder, faster, and more urgent.

            “Ah-ha.” Brand grinned. “He’s here already.”