Excerpt from The Crossing

Somewhere in Aris, deep in the Doharthen forest

Orla knelt beside Rhys and held her breath until she exhaled with relief. His chest was rising and falling as he lay, still alive, on the mossy forest floor. The magic in her blood drove her to this spot. She hadn't expected to find anyone. But here he lay- a human man, dressed in a strange combination of garments. She recognized some bits of clothing she had given him from Aris. The rest were from Earth, the mortal realm. Orla had lived in Aris for most of her life, but then she was immortal. Her human half-brother shouldn’t be here. Orla felt a lump in her throat and tried to swallow it before she tried to speak. She was relieved and angry with him for crossing and laying, near death, on this side of the veil.

"Rhys?" she whispered, her voice quivering with her nervousness. He didn't move. She shook her head and reached out, gently pushing his shoulder. "Rhys," she said again, louder this time. "Come on, wake up." Nothing. "What have you done?" she said, her voice matched her contorted expressions, a mixture of anger and sorrow. She ripped off her cloak and draped it around Rhys to keep him warm. Orla helped raise her younger brother, stroking his forehead like she did when he was sick or hurt as a boy. The soothing lullaby hummed on her lips, an instinct for caring that she had always known.

“You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t right. It’s not natural.” Orla whispered.

“It’s perfectly natural,” a strange woman’s voice sounded from the other side of the clearing. The morning mists were still clinging to the branches in this part of the forest, but Orla knew exactly who she faced when she let Rhys’ head drop to the ground and whirled around, dagger in hand.

The woman tsk’d a couple times. “Uh, uh, I have no fight with you. He crossed with me, or, rather, I crossed with him,” the woman spoke plainly, her hands raised, showing she had no physical weapon.

“Witch,” Orla spat. “I can smell your spell on him. It’s rotten. When will you human witches learn that you can’t just conjure magic powers? It draws from something, and since your mortal, your life usually pays the price.”

The witch smiled menacingly. “Yes, but this time my life was not the price.” Her gaze drifted to Rhys, lying helpless on the ground. He stirred and groaned as he struggled to wake up, rubbing the back of his head.

“You bitch!” Orla lunged for the witch.

The witch tsk’d again, stepping backwards behind a tree trunk for protection. “This was his choice. He wanted to find you, so his blood was the best way. Just ask him.”

Rhys's eyes fluttered open. "Orla?" he croaked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Rhys," Orla said, her voice filled with worry as she turned back to him. "Can you hear me? Yes, I’m here," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "You're in Aris, Rhys. You crossed the veil."

Rhys's eyes widened in realization. "I... I made it," he said, a weak smile on his lips. He opened his mouth to continue, but Orla interrupted him.

“You’re almost dead here in the otherworld, and you paid for your crossing with your mortal life, so now you can’t even go back to where you’d be safer! Rhys, what have I told you about them?” She was sitting back on her heels, and her hands were on her hips.

“Why’d you come? You don’t have any fae blood. You’re in so much danger in Aris. You have Dad still back in Earth. I can try to find you a real place to cross the veil so you can go back. I can’t keep you safe here,” she used her big sister voice, examined a nearby plant, and frowned a bit before splaying her hands in the dirt and sending her earth energy into the ground around the thin stalk and wilting leaves. Soon, it filled out with more leaves and branches and climbed upward as if stretching for the sun that filtered through the forest canopy.

Rhys’s breath caught in his chest, and he had to clear his throat before speaking. “Dad’s gone, Orla. He passed away six months ago. Cancer.”

They were both silent and still again. Orla’s mouth had dropped open, and then she covered it slowly with her hand, forgetting the plant in full bloom next to her for a long moment. Her gaze drifted around the forest and stretched far into the dense trees. “I see.”

“That’s it? Orla, he raised you, raised us. Just because your mom was a fae and you’re practically immortal doesn’t mean we aren’t still brother and sister. You can’t have forgotten the camping and hunting trips he would take us on!” he pointed at her hands and the nearby bush. “You think your magic helps you survive here? It’s not! Well, it’s not just your magic. It’s everything he taught you and me, too.” Rhys’ voice was angry until he began weeping and struggling to catch his breath again. Their father was a human survivalist and had taken them to the wilderness to teach them hunting and bushcraft. But Orla knew the Doharthen forest was far less forgiving than any place in Earth.

Orla rose and shook her head a bit “I can’t protect you! Don’t you hear me? If you even survive this,” she gestured towards him, slumping against the tree, “there’s more that will try to kill you here. And I mean the land itself is always hungry and looking for life. If the fen grass grabs me, I suffer but I don’t die. But if you get stuck in the fens,” her voice trailed off and she brushed a tear away. Whether it was from the thought of losing Rhys or from the knowledge of her father passing away, perhaps it was both, she couldn’t say.

She straightened, sturdied herself, and began harvesting the small shrub for its leaves and some roots. She boiled them over a fire created with the snap of her fingers, swirled the tea briskly, and handed it to Rhys. “Drink this. Hopefully, it will help you recover from the crossing,” her gaze wouldn’t meet his, “and then we can find a way to fix this.” Her words were flat.

Rhys drank some of the hot liquid, and the taste distorted his face. He swallowed it hard and coughed before he tried to sit up, groaning. “I may not be able to smell magic or even use it, but you can teach me what I need. I know you can.”

“Like, like, umm, like Dad taught us.” She could barely utter his name. Her voice cracked when she mentioned him, and she moved to sit next to her brother. “Did, umm, did he suffer?”

Rhys shook his head slowly and fought back his tears. “No, he didn’t even tell me he had it, hid it.” Rhys motioned towards his head, “I guess it was in his brain. He collapsed one morning and-” he shrugged away the rest of the story.

Orla let her head fall against the tree and touched Rhys’ arm. “I’m glad you were there. I’m sorry I wasn’t. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, too.”

Rhys leaned forward to embrace Orla. “That’s why I found a witch to help me cross.” Orla sighed and squeezed him tighter. “Take me to Cathesca,” he pleaded before coughing into his hand. When he pulled it away, there was blood. His gaze met Orla’s, and he could see the worry behind her eyes. “If this is the end for me, at least we’d be together.” There was a pleading in his voice.

“Yes,” said the witch, “why don’t you take us to, umm, Cathesca, is it? Sounds like an important place- Capital of Aeradan, right?” She shook her head, chuckling softly. “I gotta admit, Rhys, you were right.”

Orla cocked her head to Rhys “What else have you shared?” She looked highly annoyed. Rhys’s face turned red and sheepish, and he shrugged a bit.

“It was part of the price. He gets a ride across the veil, and I get information on how to find the roisingael,” the witch spoke up, like she was relaying a trade bill to Orla.

Orla lowered her voice to barely a whisper and leaned into Rhys. “You told her about the moon rose?”

The witch dared to saunter a little closer. “So, shall we get going to Cathesca? The petals aren’t going to harvest themselves.”

Orla’s eye twitched in clear annoyance. “I think it’s time I let her know the whole truth,” she muttered softly to Rhys before turning and dropping to her knees in front of the witch. With her hands braced in the dark earth, her eyes began to glow with a swirling mix of oranges and reds, hues that were reminiscent of a crisp autumn day. The witch didn’t have time to react before the vines shot up and latched on to her legs and arms, holding her firmly in place.

“I’m not taking you anywhere. Besides, thanks to you, he’s too weak to move right now. So, get comfy.” The vines continued to grow around the struggling witch. Two intertwined around her jaw, slapping a couple of leaves over her mouth. “This is magic, witch; natural, powerful, ROYAL magic.”

The witch’s eyes just about burst open wide and darted between Orla and Rhys. She made the connection, gently closed her eyes and relaxed into the restraints of the Doharthen forest plant life.

Orla turned her focus back to Rhys and grinned. “Now THAT is real magic. Perks of being the daughter of the Queen.”

***

Rhys stood. He was stronger after resting and the tea Orla had made for him. “Is it tea or a potion?” he asked her curiously.

She grinned and shrugged. “Bit of both, I guess. It’s hard to explain my magic. It’s not like anything in Earth, and it’s not like many others here in Aris.”

“Will the Queen be ok with me being here, in Aris, in Aeradan?” the nervousness in his voice caused Orla to put an arm around him, protectively. But her lips spread into a grin.

“Doubtful, but we shall see. I can’t send you back. I will have to keep you safe, here.” She sighed a bit and then chuckled. “I’m not looking forward to being arrested, though. Mother dearest hasn’t let me step foot at home in a very long time.”

She stood before the witch, who looked annoyed. “I’m going to release you. We’re going to Cathesca. You want the petals; you better make a good case to the guards and hope they bring you to the Queen.” She touched the vines and branches with both hands, and they disintegrated instantly. The witch fell to the ground with a grunt.

“The Queen?!” she was wobbly and reached for a tree to steady herself. “Why the Queen? I’ve heard she is unforgiving. Can’t you just show me where the flower is?” The witch finally looked scared, her confidence waning.

“If you want the roisingael petals, she must gift them to you. No one takes anything from this land without permission. I’ve never known her to be so generous, and I don’t expect you’ll find what you want from her. She hates witches almost as much as she hates the Seelie. Why do you want the petals, anyways?”

The witch stammered backwards, “Umm, a Seelie, Ardara, she said I could become immortal.”

Orla burst out into laughter, which had Rhys and the witch looking at each other in confusion. “Immortal, a witch?” She laughed some more and shook her head as she caught her breath. “Ardara, she’s been known as a trickster.”

“You mean, I’ll stay mortal?”

“You’ll be lucky to stay alive,” replied Orla sternly. She then looked back to Rhys. “I told you Aris was dangerous. The land has life that you can’t fathom in your wildest dreams or nightmares.” Her eyes began to glow once more. “But nothing is more deadly than a fae who has been insulted.” Her brightly colored gaze drifted to the witch. “You want the roisingael, you’ll have to survive my mother.” She looked at Rhys again. “And while she’s doing that, I’ll be getting you to the healers for some answers on how to keep you alive.” She rambled, “I mean, you can walk now, but that blood from your lungs isn’t going to get any better. I can still smell the magic rotting away inside of you.”

“You are going to use me as bait?” the witch asked in a high-pitched voice of disbelief.

“Yes, well, a diversion, and without any regrets.” Orla shot her a wicked look. “I will sacrifice you on the altar of darkness before a thousand fae if it saves him.” She was deadpan delivering her threat. “You have no idea what you are playing with, little witch. The Queen might not even bother with you. She sure as hell won’t speak with me, and I’m her daughter, her blood, banished for disagreeing with her on an important matter. I’m sure you think you’re untouchable because Ardara has been helping you, and she is a powerful fae. But she’s not royal. Even the roisingael cannot grant her stronger magic than that bestowed by the gods.”

Orla stalked toward the witch as she spoke, and the forest grew darker as life grew around them, choking out the sunlight that tried to peek through the canopy. “Your life is small and inconsequential compared to the powers that move through every kingdom of Aris. I’ve lost most of my family,” she choked up a bit before steeling herself in the magical shadows that began to surround her. She leveled a look at the witch. “You might not have cared if he lives or dies, but I do.”

“Orla, stop,” Rhys said firmly, trying to avoid getting caught in the shadows that encroached the clearing, brushing past his shoulders and cheeks like wisps of night.

“Yes, please, I’ll do as you say. Maybe I don’t have to see the Queen.” The Witch clamored to convince Orla that she was no threat, a distinct change from the cockiness she wore when they met.

“No,” Orla said softly, but her words had an energy that brought the forest around them to a standstill, as if every living thing nearby was listening for her command. “You will come with me and explain to my mother why you deserve anything from this land, with your tainted, false magic and arrogance. You will keep the queen engaged long enough for me to heal my brother. Cathesca is more dangerous than this forest filled with deadly beasts and plants who want to suck the life out of you. Rhys, help her. Witch, help him. We’re moving fast, so be ready.”

“Ready for what?” asked the witch.

“For hell.” Answered Orla.

“Hell? C’mon Orla, that’s a little extreme, isn’t it?” Rhys tried to lighten the mood.

Orla grinned toward them both and then sighed deeply before speaking. “Rhys, I told you once I would kill and die for my family if that’s what it took to keep them all safe. If we’re going to Cathesca, there’s going to be killing and dying. But I’ll give my life to keep you safe. We have to get in. I have to find a way to get us out of the queen’s prison, then you to the healers. Hopefully, this witch,” she looked straight at the woman, “will do her part and keep the queen occupied long enough for me to save you.”

“Why do you feel like you have to protect everyone?” Rhys asked with a bit of snark.

“Who else is going to take the job?” Orla answered with a shrug. “Once I save your life, you can try to figure out how to live here and maybe help me.” Orla began down the road to Cathesca, looking back over her shoulder. “You, witch, better give it everything you’ve got to get the roisingael. If Rhys dies and the queen doesn’t kill you, I’ll gladly do it myself.” Rhys and the witch both gulped and chased after Orla.