But I didn’t need one that big.
I only needed to summon a smaller water source, one my powers could manage. I refocused. My magic reached out, grasping and connecting with the water molecules I wanted. They recognized me, and I called them forward. They resisted a little. There were more of them here than had been in the pitcher.
Obey me! I shouted to them. Come to me! I am your mistress.
Only a few seconds passed while I struggled for control of the water. Meanwhile, Aeson was still holding his arms up, collapsing the walls slowly in what was probably a sadistic effort to prolong Dorian’s pain. Still, I needed the delay as I pushed and pulled the water more fiercely.
A funny look crossed Aeson’s face just then, and he glanced around, as though trying to find something. Yet, he didn’t know what that was.
Come to me!
I could feel the water breaking free, unable to resist my command. A look of horror twisted Aeson’s face. His hands dropped and clutched his head, almost as if he would claw it off. Behind him the flames around Dorian abruptly faded and disappeared, almost as if a lake had dropped onto them after all.
But as I’d noted, I hadn’t needed a lake. I’d only needed a smaller source. I’d needed Aeson. The water in him was a size I could manage, the source I’d called out to and commanded. After all, the human-or gentry-body is 65 percent water.
And a moment later, all of it came to me. The other 35 percent didn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A fairy king’s explosion will sort of get everyone’s attention.
I don’t know how they all knew I was responsible, but suddenly, the eyes of my allies and foes alike were on me as all fighting ceased. The guy holding me released his grip, backing up and away. Fear glittered in his wide eyes. It occurred to me then I’d nearly forgotten about my captivity while working the magic. The experience had actually been remarkably like when Dorian kept me tied up. Maybe there’d been more to that method than his own kinky tendencies.
None of Aeson’s guards-the few who were left-moved from where they stood. I wondered if it was like in those films where killing the head zombie stops all the rest. Kiyo trotted up to me. Blood and dirt spattered his fur, but his eyes shone with eagerness and anticipation, like he could have fought all night. Volusian stood nearby, watching all with an unreadable expression on his face.
Looking around myself, I received the full impact of what I’d just done. Whatever else wasn’t water in the body lay scattered out in a wide radius from where Aeson had stood. I recognized blood and bits of bone, but most of the debris consisted of slimy, nondescript blobs. Bile rose up in the back of my throat, and I worked to swallow it down. God, what a mess. No wonder the guards looked at me like some kind of monster. I had craved the strength Storm King’s inherited power could give me, but this…well, I didn’t know if I could handle this on a regular basis.
“Sire!”
Shaya came tearing through the trees, breaking into the clearing. She looked remarkably fresh compared to the rest of us, but then, she’d probably spent most of our battle time running back to us, once she’d set the trees in motion. She knelt beside Dorian, cradling his head. I’d almost forgotten him in the aftermath.
Running over, I dropped beside her. To my surprise, he looked more dirty than burnt. His skin appeared to have the nastiest sunburn of his life, and his clothes had singed and melted in some places. He looked exhausted, like he could keel over at any minute, but he still had the strength to push Shaya away when he saw me.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He struggled to sit up. “Eugenie-”
“How the hell did you survive that?” I exclaimed.
“Earth shield. It’s not important. Listen to me, you have to-”
“Your majesty, we have to get you to a healer. We can’t stay here.”
I nodded my agreement. “She’s right-”
“Damn it! You’re both welcome to fuss over my body as much as you like later. Right now, you have to act.” Reaching out, he grasped my arm, fingers digging in painfully to make his point. “You have to act now if you want to put Aeson to rest.”
I glanced around at the gore. “He’s pretty rested. And I don’t feel his shade. He’s gone.”
Dorian shook his head. “Listen to me. Find his blood, er, what sort of passes for it.” He scanned and caught sight of a small puddle of water that looked to have some dark blobs in it in the poor lighting. “There. Touch it, and then stick your hand in the ground.”
Shaya made a small sound of surprise.
“Why…?” Bad enough I’d caused this mess. Now I had to touch it?
“Just do it, Eugenie!” His voice was ragged but forceful, and he reminded me of the time he’d fought the nixies, hard and fierce.
“He’s right,” came Volusian’s more subdued tones. “You must finish what you started.”
Still not understanding, I did as they asked. The liquid was still warm, and I felt my stomach turn again as I dipped my hand in it. I sensed a tension in Aeson’s guards as they watched, but none of them intervened.
“Now put your hand in the earth,” said Dorian.
Frowning, I tried. “I can’t really go in. The ground’s too hard.”
And then it wasn’t. My fingers sank in. It was easy. The previously hardened dirt turned soft, like quicksand, pulling my hand in until I was wrist-deep. I wondered if Dorian had done something magical.
He shifted over to me. “Tell me what you feel.”
“It…it’s soft. And, well, it’s dirt.”
“Nothing else?” His voice surprised me. Anxious. Desperate.
“No, it’s just-wait. It feels…warmer. Hot almost. Like it’s moving…or alive.” I looked up at him, frightened. “What’s happening?”
“Listen to me, Eugenie. I need you to think about…life. Vitality. Picture it in your mind. Whatever setting makes you feel alive when you’re outdoors, makes you feel connected to the rest of the world. Cold. Rain. Flowers. Whatever it is, visualize it as sharply as you can. For me, that life is autumn on my father’s estate when the oaks are orange and the apples are ripe. For you, it will be something different. Reach out to that. What it looks like, smells like, feels like. Hold that image in your mind.”
Still scared, I attempted to focus my befuddled mind into a coherent image. For a moment, his vision stuck in my head, the cool breezes and blazing colors of his land. But no, that wasn’t what made me feel alive. Tucson did. Dry heat. The desert’s perfume. The sun pouring down on the Santa Catalina mountains. The dull-colored stretches of sandy dirt adorned with splotches of green from low shrubs and plants. The colors and hues of blossoms on cacti after the rain.
That was life. The world I’d grown up with and longed for whenever I was away from it. Those images burned into my mind, so real I could almost reach out and touch them.
The ground below me shook. Startled, I jerked my hand out of the dirt, but the trembling didn’t stop. The land groaned, and before my eyes, it shifted and twisted. The guards’ low cries of fear came to my ears, and nearby, Shaya muttered what sounded like a prayer. The trees of the forest behind me melted, sinking into the ground they’d sprouted from. The green carpet of grass we’d fought on faded, replaced by gravelly dirt. A moment later, shrubby patches of grass shot up from that dirt, along with small, scraggly plants. Cholla. Agave. The land beyond the fortress rose, forming into sharp angles and plateaus, like the foothills of a mountain range. Thin pines grew on those slopes, covering it in patches. The moisture in the air dropped, and the temperature increased ever so slightly. Finally the cacti came, popping up everywhere, and they were covered in flowers. Too many flowers to be real. We never had that kind of an outburst, yet there they were, a riot of colors vividly apparent even in the dusky light of dawn. Saguaros sprang up among the flowering cacti, in a matter of seconds reaching the sizes that normally took hundreds of years.