“There are… other worlds out there, Celeste, with ancient and powerful inhabitants. Humans are not alone.”
“Like-like other planets?” she asks, a twirl in her tone betraying her doubts. Doubts about my sanity, I am sure.
“You can call it that. Faëheim, it is where I come from. A realm of wonders and magic.”
“Faëheim, like Fae? Like Faeries?” Her delicate eyebrows arch. I nod. Humans turned out to be more intelligent than I expected. Their fascinating technology, their theories of the universe, and the path of the firmament spheres, even if not entirely accurate.
“Like that, yes. Our kind left a trace in your folklore, yet we lost interest in the dealings of your people ages ago.” She pierces me with those eyes, the color of autumn leaves carried by a mountain stream, and I feel that pull, that dangerous thirst again. Not to mention the uncomfortable shift in my pants.
“And now you are here again? You and that strange mechanical creature.”
“Cerberus is my mount and a loyal friend. He has been with my family for generations…” My voice trails off as I remind myself that I should be more reserved. She will be dead soon. No need to fraternize.
“Who are you? And why are you here?” she shoots, trying to keep her tone calm, though the last syllable sounds squeaky. Admirable, though.
“They call me Cyrell. Cyrell Lancebearer.” I proclaim this as if ancient dust from the tunnels of the Lower Lands swirl around us when my honorable name reverberates in this strange world. “My realm was invaded. The Siphons are consuming all magic in our world, our lifeblood. We are here to find a weapon, a way to oppose them.”
“We?” She raises a brow, chewing on a broccoli flower.
“You have already met the other two Hunters. They were fighting the Dreadful One.”
She nods in understanding, her gaze still dizzy from the alcohol. “Diaphonus and his tattooed friend are from your world too?” She leans her chin on her palm.
I nod. “Diaphonus the Fair and Tarcyll Nightshade are from Faëheim as well. From other kingdoms.” It seems like I have confirmed something she has already suspected.
“And you are hunting what, exactly?” I study her with concern. How would she take the truth? “What is my role in all this?” she insists.
There it is. The moment I have dreaded. Fae cannot lie; every human child knows this. It is our deal with the Crystal Serpent, I guess. We are blessed with almost unlimited power, but we must be fair and honest while wielding it. I put my hands on the table and tense up.
“You have something precious, Celeste. Pure and primal magic, directly drawn from the source. You call to us, the magic-sensitive beings, and we crave the power that sings in your body.”
“So you are hunting me,” Celeste whispers, and I nod. I wish I could change the situation and her fate, yet she is the Anchor, our only hope. “And the Dreadful One, is he after me too?”
“Yes.”
She is pale, and I can see that her muscles strain. Her foot slips out of her single shoe. She is preparing to run.
“And why am I here? With you?”
I sigh.
“My Elders have charged me to extract the magic essence from you with this device.” I look at the Extractor, and she follows my gaze. Indeed, the apparatus must appear terrifying to her human eyes. A box of solid bronze, tangled cables ending in cruel needles or hungry metal jaws, resembling gaping bear traps.
Celeste bolts to the closest door. It is as I feared. I will have to use violence. I follow her, aware that she will get lost in the dark and deadly labyrinth outside. I breach the distance between us with a few steps and find her feeling her way into the gloom beyond the door.
My eyesight is designed for this, so I can perfectly see her trembling, slender silhouette, her pale skin, and the sharp piece of glass she is pressing against the tender skin of her neck when she hears my steps. She is taking sharp, shallow breaths, and I know that in such an aggravated state, she could harm herself.
“I have something valuable, you said. One more step, and I will slit my throat.”
“Come back with me, Celeste. It is more dangerous out here than you think. It is a place where people discard things, hoping them never to be found again.”
The human shakes her head.
I rub my temples. The vision of her bleeding out at the bottom of the sewer unnerves me, and I need her healthy and sober for the Extractor.
Out of desperation, I use a dirty trick just like Diaphonus. Nothing magical, though, pure nature.
How do male dark elves attract females in the eternal gloom of the Lower Lands? With pheromones. We have the most disarming, potent pheromones in all Faëheim, and mine could drive each female mammal within a mile in heat.
