I had this sitting and ready for a while now, but I marked it in my document that I had already posted up until this point. I dunno why I was so dumb. Literally I've been thinking about the future of this story so much that I'm tired of being in the present of it. I wanna break off from the regular story, but it does require us to get through Lady Midnight and maybe a little of Lord of Shadows, so off we go.
I swear I'm working on this story in the background, but I'm prioritizing the stories that are getting more attention - well, story, considering the fact that only one is currently on going but I want to start the sequel to the FF13 one soon enough.
Fionn couldn't say he appreciated how his mind worked.
"But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;"
He was singing Finnegan's tune, but for some reason, his Tmind continued to linger on that one line. The one line they'd found on that wall that the twins had translated, the one that Fionn himself could translate on his own.
"Those who were older than we…those who were older than we…those who were older than we…"
'May Those Who Are Older grant us all good fortune.'
Who had said that? The woman with the fake name, the one at the theater place. Edgar Allan Poe's poem had been about how love had been stronger than the so-called wisdom of forebearers. Fionn couldn't say he disagreed with Annabelle Lee. The words held a striking resemblance to his own relationship with Finnegan. But the question was which of them resembled Annabelle Lee more? Her highborn kinsman came and shut her up in a sepulchre. That could be referring to either Fionn's people or Finnegan's, really. Shadowhunters, faeries, both believed they were so much better and older and wiser than love. Love was so fallible to them that they would destroy it if they disapproved.
Fionn sighed and flicked his fingers, summoning his Io's armor and letting it dance across his fingers before sheathing it again. He rarely did such a thing, but it was often just to keep his mind distracted. His Io required a lot of thought to use properly, and sometimes he just wanted to forget about the rest of the world. His Io could technically expand to cover his entire body with armor rather than just a bracer or a gauntlet, but Fionn couldn't manage anything more without wasting too much concentration and energy. The Io was a dangerous weapon because it could potentially suck the life out of the wearer should they overstrain its usage.
He had changed back into his regular hunting gear. He honestly felt an irrational disappointment when he removed Finnegan's clothes. Human clothes were so odd, and yet his body screamed for him to retain the human sleepwear. He craved having the constant scent of Finnegan readily at his nose; he wished he could parade around in Faerie and make it known that he belonged to someone and someone belonged to him. It twisted his stomach into a knot at the prospect which could never be fully realized.
"Hello, Fionn Flann."
Fionn tensed. He turned to find Iarlath lurking in the shadows, waiting for him. Such a dramatic entrance was something Fionn could hardly be surprised by. Mark spoke worlds of truth when he said that faeries were dramatic.
"Iarlath," Fionn greeted with a flat tone.
"How goes the investigation with the Blackthorns? You have not reported anything as of yet."
"The fey do not want updates, they want answers, and I planned to bring you the results once we had fully captured the perpetrator."
He repeated his shared sentiments with Diana. He realized he'd been spoiled by being with Finnegan and the Blackthorns for so long. He had never spent so much time away from watching fey eyes, under the scrutiny of his people. It was only thanks to Lock that he'd ever had any experience with kindness and knew that he wanted it, and then the rest of the people Lock introduced him to as well - including Hunter, now Finnegan.
"Yes, such is expected of you. However, we do desire to be informed of any…issues regarding the Blackthorn boy."
"In what manner?"
"Disloyalty."
"You suspect foul play from the boy? He is bound by his word, and no matter his circumstances he will not betray his oath."
Iarlath hummed in amusement, never a good sign. "How has your brother been faring as of late?"
"Kieran should be with the Hunt at present. I would know not of his actions."
"I received a very interesting message from him recently. But that is a matter for another day. For now, I will regale with you the purpose of my visit. To be succinct, your father desires your presence at the Court."
Fionn felt his entire body tense at the idea of returning to the Court. Any reason his father had for wanting his return couldn't be a good one.
"Why would my father desire my presence after so many years of exile?"
"Your exile was self-inflicted, Fionn Flann, and your father allowed it because he knew you would not be one to die simply because you were without the protection of the Court. But now your father has need of you - or rather, he has need of Dearil, and you are the only one who can bring her to him."
Fionn's scowl grew darker. "Dearil died many years ago. What need would he have with her now?"
"There have been recent developments, as I'm sure you are aware. The Astral realm has been growing increasingly unstable, and as such the lands of Faerie reflect the dangers of an unbalanced hierarchy. Your father needs Dearil and her connection to Phoenix, as you might have been aware. You yourself have been experiencing symptoms of Phoenix's return, though your current form greatly restricts the deity's power. Dearil's return is necessary for Phoenix's true power to be restored."
"Regardless of Dearil's connections, Phoenix has been cursed with the Scourge. Under the Scourge, the victim loses their wits and any rational thought is lost. Phoenix would hardly be in any position to follow orders, and he would slaughter any who come near. I am the only one who has found immunity to the Scourge as well as a cure when already afflicted."
"Do you truly know what begets your immunity to this Scourge?"
Fionn couldn't help but take a page out of Wolf's book and rolled his eyes. "Self-restraint."
It was true that the only way that Fionn had come out of his Scourge-induced stupors was because he had pulled himself out of it - consciously or unconsciously. Beyond that, a lot of it was down to luck. So far, he'd had moments when he'd felt his rage getting the better of him, but he'd managed to hold it down through his own willpower and had found that taming the Scourge was entirely possible, even if it was painful.
The scar forming beneath his eye came to mind and seemed to tingle on his skin. He realized that technically it wasn't just his own willpower that had saved him - it had been the prospect that he'd hurt Finnegan that truly shook him. The moment that Finnegan had reached out for him, his entire body shut down with fear that he'd hurt the Shadowhunter in his rage. In the process of shutting down the Scourge so forcefully, he'd left a scar that was painful to say the least. If ever he lost it to the Scourge again, coming back would probably result in the scar's spreading. He knew that there would be a time when that scar didn't go away and sealing back the Scourge would be impossible. That's why keeping his temper was the only thing he could do now to prevent the Scourge from getting any worse.
Iarlath might have been smiling in amusement, but it was difficult for Fionn to tell because of his tree-bark-like skin. "We also require another soul, one with whom you might be acquainted. A Shadowhunter by the name of Finnegan Scion. I believe I took note of him during our meeting with the Blackthorn family."
Fionn grit his teeth, barely holding back his reaction. Luckily he had already lost his façade of indifference when Iarlath had brought up Dearil, so there wasn't much darker Fionn's expression could grow. Either way, Iarlath smiled, as the minute reaction was enough to identify Fionn's feelings on the matter.
"Why would my father want a Nephilim?"
"You know very well why. We weren't sure until the incident where Finnegan merged with your steed and gained the Astral's powers for himself while still remaining human. But there is no doubt now. That boy can control the power of the gods without being subject to the caveats that come with a status of deity. Long ago, a boy just like him was blessed with the powers of every god while retaining his humanity in order to combat the Scourge - a boy with the power to channel and fight the gods without risk of infection. He perished during the Ifrit War, the cost of his blessings. But such power could not be destroyed so easily, not when his lover was Phoenix, a deity whose true spirit is unkillable, no matter how many times his body perishes. Born of haste and greed in a time when life and death were merely inconveniences, he can preserve any being and the powers they have attained in turn. Needless to say, your father has taken an interest in this boy's resurfacing. The Astral realm is in disarray and he could either save it or destroy it."
"You want Phoenix and Finnegan? To protect the Unseelie Court? To take over the Seelie Court and rule over all of Faerie? Why don't we shoot for the stars and rule in place of the gods while they're vulnerable?"
Fionn himself was surprised by the level of sarcasm he was able to muster on his last sentence.
Iarlath frowned. "You have been influenced greatly by those humans, Fionn Flann. Don't think I do not smell the thick scent of Shadowhunter on your form."
Fionn silently cursed himself for not bathing after wearing Finnegan's clothes for so long, but he had been distracted by the scent and his inner urges had told him to preserve the scent for a little longer. Perhaps he'd wanted to pretend that for a moment he openly belonged to Finnegan and he wasn't afraid to brag about it. He couldn't have predicted he'd meet Iarlath that night - or any other faerie. He'd been in a rush to get to the convergence before the Mantid demons swarmed the location, Emma Carstairs got herself into inevitable danger, or both.
"Do not forget that your father himself requests Dearil and the Shadowhunter. You will bring them to the Court."
"And what if I don't want to give you them?"
He wasn't letting Dearil return. He sure as Hellfire wasn't letting his father go anywhere near Finnegan. He didn't care if he had to fight Iarlath, his brothers, all of the Unseelie Court, and whatever demons and legends that could be conjured up to bring them in.
Unbeknownst to Fionn, the scar on his cheek began to grow wider again and pulse with black energy. Even Iarlath took a step back from the dark aura Fionn began to radiate before he caught himself. He wasn't a fool; he knew the dangers of not only threatening an Astral but an Astral with the Scourge. He couldn't show overconfidence when he didn't have his leverage yet. But he couldn't show cowardice either, or it would appear as though he was afraid, and if the Astral knew he was afraid, it would give him free rein to terrorize Iarlath as he pleased; Phoenix would have no reason to even respect Iarlath enough to spare him. Once Fionn lost his wits to the Scourge, he wouldn't discriminate out of the kindness of his heart or even because of his honor. Iarlath had been well-informed of the Scourge's risk before he had come that evening.
"Do as you wish," Iarlath stated. "But know the longer you delay, the more desperate your father will become. You cannot say I didn't warn you of the dangers that may come when that man grows agitated. What he orders me to do will be out of my control."
Iarlath kept his voice as flat and casual as he could, hoping he didn't push Fionn further into the Scourge's madness. Iarlath had faced dangerous situations before. He could handle this. But even he knew when to give up all pretenses and simply fight for his life, even if he was likely to lose.
"You can tell my father that I said he can, as a friend of mine would say, 'go fuck himself for all I care.'"
With that, Fionn turned away and continued down his path. The sun had long since set. The Mantid demons would be swarming by then. But he didn't care. He left Iarlath alive to send the message to his father. Otherwise, he probably would've slaughtered the man regardless of the consequences. For now, he needed to get some aggression out on some demons. Needless to say, there wouldn't be a single one left by the end of the night.
Finn was walking into a forest. It was a dangerous forest, but he was counting on it. There were many legends that told of mystical creatures, and any who entered too deep within the forest would never again come out.
Finn walked through the forest making himself a target.
"Why are you here? Don't you know where you are?"
"I know exactly where I am. Do with me what you wish, faerie."
"Bold words, but are you truly prepared for what comes of being a prisoner in Faerieland?"
"It can't be worse than with humans. Humans are cruel beasts, as you might know. I'd rather be a prisoner here than a prisoner there."
The faerie with burning red eyes studied Finn up and down. "Fine then. You will be mine, human. Will you allow yourself to be bound by my will?"
"You don't even need to give me the choice. Then again, I'm sure that you don't need my consent."
"Correct."
He felt his hand snatched and a searing pain shot up his arm and to his chest. His skin burned with enchanted runes, causing tattoos in a foreign language to appear down his arms, legs, around his neck and head. The runes formed the shape of bindings, like a collar around his neck, a circlet around his head, and chains around his wrists and ankles. The runes faded away visibly, but he could still feel them tingling beneath the surface.
"Follow me, human. We've not much time."
"Why not?"
"I am a terrible faerie to be bonded to, for you see, I am on the run from the faerie courts."
Finn followed his new faerie master without much complaint. Unlike how Finn expected him to be, his master wasn't the cruel faerie that was spoken of in human legends. He openly spoke to Finn when he asked questions, informed him of important information that he needed to know about such as dangerous locations, plants, food, customs, etc. Finn supposed it was because. He even asked Finn for his name so that he could be referred to as something other than 'human.' He wondered what his family was doing now that he was gone, but he didn't have any regrets. His family's expectations of him were just foolish, and if they were weeping over him, he said let 'em.
His work wasn't difficult, and he was learning new things about the supernatural world that he never would've learned if he'd stayed with humans - biased, ignorant humans. Besides, being his faerie's slave also meant that he was under his faerie's protection. If any other faerie approached him, his runes hummed into existence and he was left alone. Sometimes, faeries even apologized for disturbing him. Whoever his faerie was, he had a reputation in the faerie world. Based on the fact that he was on the run, Finn assumed it wasn't a good one. All the better that he had the trust and respect of his faerie master.
"Are all faeries like you?" Finn asked. "I assume not, but I've learned not to make any assumptions in this world."
The faerie nodded. "I am a unique case, you might say."
"How long have you been on the run?"
"Many years. Perhaps a decade in human terms. Time is fluid in Faerie - it fluctuates as it pleases. You may have been within Faerie a single day and yet you can be gone for years on end. I've known a case where a single day equated to seven years in the human world, or vice versa in the human world."
"You don't speak as highborn as a lot of other faeries, you speak very human."
"I've had practice. It's true that faeries cannot lie, but we can still learn new languages and slang. I can speak like a human if I've had enough practice."
"You're really good at it."
"Thank you. Just be wary of other faeries. My mark will ward off the common folk, but other times it will only attract trouble. We're on the run, remember?"
"Just what did you do to get in such trouble?"
"I've made my fair share of enemies. There are those who desire my power and status, and there are also those who simply wish to oppress me."
Finn followed his master across the faerie lands, unsure of where they were going. They ran into trouble on multiple occasions, but Finn's master was well protected and knew how to fight. Finn himself wasn't helpless, but against supernatural threats, he was just a human. There were moments when he wondered if he meant so much to his master that he would truly risk his life for Finn's sake. He really shouldn't risk himself for Finn, but his master admitted that it was lonely being on the run. No one could be trusted, there was no hope for his future, at least no hope for a future where he was happy.
"This is the happiest I've ever been, actually," Finn's master admitted. "It's nice to have a companion."
"It's nice being in your company as well. Life's a lot simpler here, nicer."
"Is humanity truly so grueling? I've met humans during my travels, but never have I learned what it is to be one."
"It's very complex. You are born a certain way, taught certain things, and any deviation is seen as treachery. Humans are prejudice and hypocritical and racist and sexist. Here, in Faerie, women and men are treated with the same respect. Sure, humans are weaker than you, different, but you have your respect for them at times. Everyone's got different opinions, but in the end, things are at least straightforward here. No one can lie, though you can deceive. I just like it more than those who can flat out lie."
"We can lie with our actions, our tone, our wording. I've learned that humans can have different meanings depending on the vowels emphasized and how they are emphasized. Verbal irony is a language in itself; though it sounds like English, it is more of a dialect."
"And so you've learned to speak this dialect. So long as a faerie knows that what they mean to say is correct, they can speak truthfully. So if you were learning a new language and someone misinformed you of the translations, you could potentially lie without lying. Interesting."
"I sometimes envy you humans for being able to lie. At other times, I feel grateful that I can be truthful to myself and others. What happens if you are unsure of the truth within yourself?"
Finn thought about it. "I guess we can lie to ourselves, can't we? I never really thought about it, but yeah. Sometimes we have to lie to ourselves in order to deny that which we cannot comprehend or accept. I tried lying to myself to survive in humanity. It was only when I accepted the truth that I was brave enough to do what I desired."
"Coming to Faerie?"
"Yes. And I don't regret it. I fear I might, and yet I was willing to take the chance."
His master chuckled. "I don't regret binding you, Finn. I do not know where I would be without you. Solitude is a dangerous thing. I might have lost my sanity long ago had we never met."
"I may have as well. I hope we are together for many years longer."
"I as well."
Finn died to something as simple as a push. Falling was not something that scared him before. Granted he'd never fallen from a cliff before. The highest he'd ever fallen was down the stairs of his home, and even then he'd found the pain and disorientation fun. He'd felt like he'd survived a harrowing experience, despite how mundane it was compared to his current situation.
"You will return to the Court and face judgment, Farkael."
"Release him!"
"Fine."
And that was the conversation that got Finn thrown off a cliff with barely a moment to question what was happening.
The next thing he knew, he was waking in someone's arms. His faerie master was holding him up as he laid on the cliff as though he'd never fallen. It couldn't have just been a bad dream, not with the horrified look on the faerie's face.
"You're alive," the red-eyed faerie sighed with relief.
"I…am."
They were surrounded by the ashes of their enemies, who had instantly been turned to dust. His faerie had brought him back to life. He didn't know how. He didn't know at what cost.
"I have the power of the god Phoenix," Farkael explained. "My father wished to hold me to do his bidding. I complied during my early years, but I refused to comply any longer. And so I left, though not with any blessing on my father's part. Now, the Courts hunt me for my power in order to convince me to do their bidding."
"You're stronger than them though. You can do whatever you please."
"I hate this power. I abhor it with my every being. Yet I cannot deny its usefulness. I…I had to use it to save you. There was no other way. Phoenix is powerful enough to destroy his enemies with nothing but a thought. He can revive the dead or give them new life in the form of rebirth from the ashes of defeat."
"You…you brought me back. You used a power you hate for me…?"
He nodded reluctantly.
"Why me? I'm just a human."
"I have told you before, you are more than that! You are important to me. You are…" He stroked his soft fingers across Finn's face. "You are everything to me."
He leaned down gently as though asking for permission and Finn let his close the distance. Finn felt like his entire body was on fire, he felt his runes on his body flaring up as though reacting to the faerie's contact and their shared emotion. It was said that magic was connected to emotion, so he was unsurprised that his feelings that were overwhelming him were transferring to the magic that already bound the two of them.
"My apologies. I…you…I have tried to stop myself from loving you, human, but you are…too important to lose."
Finn smiled. "I'm not complaining. Not at all."
Traveling together didn't change much. Finn started to realize just how close the two of them already were. Finn was now allowed to call his master Farkael, though it was awkward for both of them.
"I'm used to calling you 'Master.' Now that our relationship has changed a bit, I guess that's a little more awkward."
"I'm not fond of the name. Farkael is what I was called by the family that shunned me and loved me only for my power. I…I began to go by the title of 'Fionn' instead when I went rogue."
"Why Fionn?"
"It simply means 'fair-haired.'"
Finn smiled. "So basically you started calling yourself blondie?"
Farkael laughed. "Yes, I suppose so."
'Do you know how their tale ended?'
"Huh?"
"What is it?" Kael asked.
"I thought I heard someone speaking."
'Do you want to know? I will show you.'
The scene shifted as the two of them stood on a beach fighting off what seemed like a storm itself.
"Come now, Phoenix, fight like you mean it!"
The deity within the heart of the living storm glared down at them, the waves swirling at her command. Her face seemed familiar somehow.
"Selina?"
"What does she want from you?!" Finn screamed over the torrent.
"I don't know!" Kael admitted. "Nothing good! Nothing good ever comes out of this curse! Nothing!"
The water goddess frowned. "You are a fool, Phoenix. If you desire to die so, then I shall grant you your wish!"
She raised her arms and threw the storm forward, the water freezing into deadly spikes of ice. Kael raised his arms and conjured a barrier of fire to block, but the ice and water, especially when the fight was taking place at the sea, was overwhelming. Some of the ice was blocked, some of it wasn't.
"Kael…Farkael!"
Finn struggled to the faerie's position in the sand, dragging his body forward despite being pierced multiple times.
"I'm sorry…"
"No, no don't be sorry. I don't regret a moment of it."
The water deity growled. "You stupid bird. You can't even die properly!"
Kael chuckled, though it was pained. "I can die in love, Seline. Maybe that makes me a fool, but I've never feared death." He turned his eyes to Finn. "I will see you again, love. Every time until this curse wears off."
"Curse?"
"Never you mind. A Phoenix will always rise from the ashes, stronger than before."
A torrent of ice rained down, aimed at Kael alone. "Damn you, you imposter!"
Kael frowned. "Don't call me an imposter, Seline…"
Finn dived over Kael's body, knowing shielding him would be useless but he didn't want to live alone. He knew he wouldn't survive if he was left alone.
"…when I've already won."
The ice shards came down, piercing through both of them. Finn felt his runes burning away as the pain grew numbing and he felt the energy from his body leaving - probably blood loss. Then, he felt the moment when his runes snapped off, sending a shockwave through the air. He heard Seline's screams of anguish and saw Kael smirking beneath him before the rest of his life drained away from him.
Finnegan snapped awake, gasping in a deep breath. His lungs and chest felt like they had been pierced by the ice that had killed him in his dream. Another dream about Phoenix and himself. How many were there? How many times were he and Phoenix reborn? And how many times had they died together? Something about a curse…
And then there was Seline. He needed to have a talk with her when next they met.
He sighed. It was nighttime. He didn't know how long he'd been out, but it seemed to have been a while. Fionn wasn't back; he knew the faerie would be at his side instantly and would simply be staring at him from the desk chair or even just from the door. Fionn still had his faerie quirks, one of which being that he wasn't afraid to look like a stalker by watching someone sleep for their own protection.
He wondered if Cristina was back from tailing Sterling. They still had a couple days until the hunt for the guy truly began, and despite only being a half-werewolf or whatever he'd called himself, it meant he still had speed greater than a Shadowhunter. The time of his kill would be the most important - that was their best chance at finding the Guardian.
Finn climbed out of bed and stretched. If he was up and running again, that likely meant that Selina was up and running again too. He wondered if she'd come to the Institute the next morning. For now, Finn couldn't sleep, so he headed down to the kitchen for something to eat. He needed something to do.
At first glance, the kitchen seemed deserted, only a single light on. Dishes were piled in the sink, and though someone had clearly scrubbed the walls and counters, there was still food crusted onto the stove, and two large trash bags, stuffed full and half-spilling their contents, propped against the wall. Finn nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed Mark. For a moment, he had thought he was only a shadow and the movement had been a trick of the light, but he finally spotted Mark sitting on the floor, his legs crossed. Tavvy was asleep beside him - on him, really, his head resting in the crook of Mark's arm, his small legs and arms curled up like a potato bug's. Mark's T-shirt and jeans were covered with powdered sugar. He was carefully stroking Tavvy's hair.
"Hey, Mark," Finn muttered. "Don't mind me. Just seeing if there's any food that hasn't been thrown on some surface of the kitchen."
"I give my apologies once more for the needless waste of sustenance," Mark said. The dark room seemed to force them to keep their voices low, as though they feared speaking too loudly would bring down the very sky. "I only hoped to appease the children."
"It's fine, Mark. Julian's the one who's most upset. I should have my own apologies for not making it clear that keeping the children alive was not the only goal. I was gone longer than I thought I'd be, and Fionn was likely no help."
Mark chuckled. "He believes in disciplining his brother, but otherwise he knows very little of interacting with the little ones."
Finn managed to find some half-broken granola bars and decided he'd make do. He procured a bowl just in case so he could catch the crumbs since it was one of those crumbly granolas. Finn went to sit at the table where he could still see Mark. He began eating in silence, but if what Finn had learned anything about faeries from Fionn it was that they weren't afraid of the menace known as awkward silence. Brave folk they were.
Finn eventually laid his head on the table, feeling his exhaustion returning from the darkened room. He heard someone enter the room, but he decided to let Mark handle it and just sleep so that he wouldn't end up uber tired the next day because he was up all night.
"Cristina?"
Finn heard shuffling as Cristina came closer and set her scarf on the table. "Has Emma returned yet?"
"I don't know," Mark said. "But if she has, she's probably gone to sleep."
Cristina sighed. Perhaps she had wanted to ask Emma where she had gone or tell her what Cristina herself had found on her outing.
"Could you - if you don't mind - get me a glass of water?" Mark asked. He looked down half-apologetically at the boy in his lap. "I don't want to wake him."
"Of course." Cristina went to the sink, filled a glass, and returned, sitting down cross-legged opposite Mark. He took the glass with a grateful expression. "I'm sure Julian isn't that angry with you."
Mark made an inelegant noise, finishing the water and setting the glass down.
"You could pick up Tavvy," Cristina suggested. "You could carry him to bed. If you want him to sleep."
"I like him here," Mark said, looking down at his own long, pale fingers tangled in the little boy's brown curls. "He just - they all left, and he fell asleep on me." He sounded amazed, wondering.
"Of course he did," Cristina said. "He's your brother. He trusts you."
"Nobody trusts a Hunter."
"You are not a Hunter in this house. You are a Blackthorn."
"I wish Julian agreed with you. I thought I was keeping the children happy. I thought that's what Julian would have wanted."
Tavvy shifted in Mark's arms and Mark moved too, so that the edge of his boot was touching the tip of Cristina's. She felt the contact like a small shock.
"You have to understand," she said. "Julian does everything for these children. Everything. I have never seen a brother who is so much like a parent. He cannot only tell them yes, he has to tell them no. He must deal in discipline and punishment and denial. Whereas you, you can give them anything. You can have fun with them."
"Julian can have fun with them," Mark said a little sulkily.
"He can't. He is envious because he loves them but he cannot be their brother. He must be their father. In his mind, they dread him and adore you."
"Julian's jealous?" Mark looked astonished. "Of me?"
"I think so."
Cristina met his eyes. At some point, in knowing him, the mismatch between his blue and his golden one had stopped seeming strange to her. The same way it had stopped seeming strange to be in the Blackthorns' kitchen, speaking English, instead of at home, where things were warm and familiar.
"Be kind to him. He has a gentle soul. He is terrified you will leave and break the hearts of all these children he loves so very much."
Mark looked down at Tavvy. "I don't know what I will do," he admitted. "I did not realize how it would tear at my heart to be back among them. It was thinking of them, of my family, that helped me live through the first years I was in the Hunt. Every day we would ride, and steal from the dead. It was cold, a cold life. And at night I would lie down and conjure their faces to lull me to sleep. They were all I had until-"
He broke off. Tavvy sat up, scrubbing his small hands through his tangled hair. "Jules?" he yawned.
"No," his brother said quietly. "It's Mark."
"Oh, right." Tavvy gave him a blink-eyed smile. "Think I crashed from all the sugar."
"Well, you were inside a bag of it," Mark said. "That could have an effect on anyone."
Tavvy got to his feet and stretched, a full little-boy stretch with his arms outraised. Mark watched him, a look of wistfulness in his eyes. Cristina wondered if he was thinking about all the years and milestones he'd missed in Tavvy's life. Of all his siblings, his youngest one had changed the most.
"Bed," Tavvy said, and wandered out of the kitchen, pausing at the door to say, "Night Cristina!" shyly before scampering off.
Cristina turned back to Mark. He was still sitting with his back against the refrigerator. He looked exhausted, not just physically, but as if his soul were tired. She could get up and go to bed, Cristina thought. She probably should. There was no reason for her to stay here and sit on the floor with a boy she barely knew, who would most likely disappear out of her life in months, and who was probably in love with someone else. Which, she thought, might be exactly what drew her to him. She knew what it was like to leave something you loved behind.
"Until?" she prompted.
Mark's eyelids lifted slowly, showing her the banked fire in gold and blue eyes. "What?"
"You said your family, the memory of your family, was all you had until something. Until Kieran?"
"Yes," Mark said.
"Was he the only one who was kind to you?"
"In the Hunt? There is not kindness in the Hunt. There is respect, and a sort of camaraderie of brothers. They feared Kieran, of course. Kieran is genty, a Prince of Faerie. His father, the King, gave him to the Hunt as a sign of goodwill to Gwyn, but he also demanded his good treatment. Fionn I am unsure of. He trained with and worked with Gwyn long before he officially joined with the Hunt alongside Kieran. If he was also to be treated well, he did not act the part. Their good treatment was extended to me, but even before Kieran, they came slowly to respect me." His shoulders hunched. "It was worse when we attended the revels. Faeries from all over would come to those, and they did not appreciate a Shadowhunter's attendance. They would do their best to draw me aside, to taunt and torment me."
"Did no one intervene?"
Mark laughed shortly. "The ways of Faerie are brutal. Even for the greatest among them. The Queen of the Seelie Court can be deprived of her powers if her crown is stolen. Even Gwyn, who leads the Wild Hunt, must yield authority to any who steals his cloak. You cannot imagine they would show mercy to a half-Shadowhunter boy. Fionn was the only one who might have come close to intervention. He would not show his care on the outside, but I knew those who attempted to harass me would ultimately face his wrath with time. I never saw the same perpetrator twice after Fionn entered my life, but he would not directly intervene. He knew that would be only cruelty."
"How would it be cruel to aid you in times of need?"
"In Faerie there are the weak and the strong, and the weak serve the strong. If Fionn and Kieran were to aid me in all my times of need, I would come across as unable to handle my own problems, dependant on their aid. He knew I did not need such a reputation in a world that already disapproves of me."
"He wished for you to prove yourself to those of Faerie who didn't believe in you."
"Those who believed I was an arrogant Shadowhunter who believed I had control over them," Mark corrected. "Faeries are older creatures than Shadowhunters, and yet Shadowhunters have formed their Clave and their Accords and their Cold Peace as though they are a higher power showing mercy to the Downworld. No. Shadowhunters are very arrogant creatures. Should they truly face the darkest of dangers within Faerie, it would be a bloodbath and none would remain standing. Faeries are the merciful creatures for not unleashing the true horrors they potential might summon to this world. And they are also just as arrogant. If you do not know, you will learn with time, Cristina. I am born of two arrogant races, and I am choosing between which is slightly less intolerable."
"You're not choosing between faerie and Shadowhunter," Cristina corrected. "You are choosing between that which you care for in either world. Kieran, the Hunt, freedom, or your home, your family. There are dangers and prejudices on both sides, but you must choose which is a greater cause to fight for. I do not know what it was like in Faerie for you, but from my perspective, it sounds as though the society there treats you harsher than here. But perhaps I know nothing."
"The people of Faerie and that of the Nephilim are both equally cruel. The only difference is that the Fair Folk do not hide behind pretenses. They display their dislike of me freely and do not hide behind lies and rules and façades. They even had a rhyme they would mock me with."
"A rhyme?" Cristina held up her hand. "Nevermind, you do not need to tell it to me, not if you don't wish to."
"I no longer care," Mark said. "It was an old bit of doggerel. 'First the flame and then the flood, in the end it's Blackthorn blood.'"
Cristina sat up straight. "What?"
"They claimed it meant Blackthorn blood was destructive, like flood or fire. That whoever made up the rhyme was saying Blackthorns were bad luck. Not that it matters. It's just a bit of nonsense."
"That isn't nonsense," Cristina exclaimed. "It means something. The words written on the bodies…" She frowned in concentration. "They are the same."
"What do you mean?"
"Fire to water. It is the same - they are simply different translations. When English is not your first language, you understand the sense of the words differently. Believe me, 'Fire to water' and 'First the flame and then the flood,' they could be the same thing."
"But what does that mean?"
"I'm not sure." Cristina pushed her hands into her hair in frustration. "Please, promise me you'll mention it to Emma and Jules as soon as you can. I could be wrong, but…"
Mark looked baffled. "Yes, of course-"
"Promise."
"Tomorrow, I promise." His smile was bemused. "It occurs to me that you know a great deal about me, Cristina, and I know very little about you. I know your name, Mendoza Rosales. I know you left something behind in Mexico. What was it?"
"Not a something. Someone."
"Perfect Diego?"
"And his brother Jaime." She waved away Mark's raised eyebrow. "One of them I was in love with, and the other was my best friend. They both broke my heart." She was almost astonished to hear the words come out of her mouth.
"For your heart twice broken, I am sorry," Mark said. "But is it wrong that I am glad that it brought you into my life? If you had not been here when I arrived - I do not know that I could have borne it. When I first saw Julian, I thought he was my father. I did not know my brother so grown. I left them children, and now they are no longer that. When I knew what I had lost, even with Emma, those years of their lives…you are the only one I have not lost something with, but rather gained a new friendship."
"Well, there's always Finn and his parabatai."
"Ah, but they are family of Fionn, you see, and his family is Kieran's, and Kieran's family is mine. You are the only one I might have friendship with, Cristina Rosales. You are not a Blackthorn, you are not family, and so you may yet be my only friend."
"Friendship," Cristina mused.
He extended his hand, and she looked at him, bemused.
"It is traditional, among the fey, for a declaration of friendship to be accompanied by a clasp of hands."
She put her hand in his. His fingers closed around her own; they were rough where they were calloused, but lithe and strong. And not cool, as she had imagined they would be, but warm. She tried to hold back the shiver that threatened to spread up her arm, realizing how long it had been since she had held someone's hand like this.
"Cristina," he mused.
He spoke her name for no other reason than to hear it, because to both of them her name sounded like music when he spoke it.
Neither of them noticed the movement at the window, the flash of a pale face looking in, or the sound of an acorn being viciously crushed between narrow fingers.
Fionn finished off the last of the Mantids and didn't feel any better. If anything, he felt worse. He felt like his skin was truly burning - and he couldn't feel the effects of extreme heat, so that was an odd sensation. But there was also a cruel coolness to the heat which stung him to the core, as though the painful flame was consuming his soul itself.
He remembered the reason that he had even come to fight the Mantid demons in the first place and his ruby eyes moved to the open cave entrance that he had been neglecting.
Emma Carstairs.
The brat, Fionn remembered. The idiot who deserved to die for her rash and conceited methods. She was presumptuous, annoying, a brash teenager who didn't seem to know the meaning of logic or rules, and Fionn knew that practically everything she did caused trouble for herself and others who cared about her. He rushed into the cave, his glowing aura lighting the way as he chased after wherever the Carstairs girl had gone. He remembered the way down to the chamber from his previous visit, and this time he spelled an odd mixture of sulfur and burned sugar. There was someone with a ritual down here, Fionn remembered.
He charged down into the room and passed through a glamour circle but he didn't initially see where the Carstairs girl was. There was no way Fionn could've changed the outcome of what happened, as Emma had already pulled down the lever out of curiosity before she even noticed him charging into the room. For a moment, nothing happened. Fionn's eyes locked into Emma's, and her own locked onto his.
Then both of the porthole doors swung wide open.
An unearthly howl tore through the room. Emma turned and stared in horror. The second porthole was wide open and glowing bright blue - a door to the ocean. A great, deep universe of water opened on the other side of the door, of whipping seaweed and surging currents and the dark, shadowy shapes of things much bigger than fish. The stench of saltwater was everywhere, which was painful enough to Fionn when he was normal, but when his senses were heightened thanks to his berserk state it was a downright painful scent that seemed to pierce through his skull.
Flood.
Fionn didn't understand why he thought that word, but he felt as though he was being burnt alive as he was lifted off his feet and dragged towards the ocean as if being sucked down a drain. He had begun to scream in pain before he was hauled through the doorway and the water closed over his head.
He continued to scream underwater, but it became less of a battle cry of pain than a wail of agony. He screamed until he had no more breath in his lungs and then some. He wasn't sure how he kept going, but he seemed to be screaming out his very soul in a desperate attempt to be heard. The pain was overwhelming, but it was the fear that got to him mostly. He wasn't sure how deep down he was, he couldn't tell which way was up, attempting to open his eyelids resulted in the burning of his eyes even worse than the pain from the Scourge.
Fionn did not know how to swim.
It was truly pitiful, but there was never a pool of water that he could properly heat up that was big enough for him to ever learn. In Faerie, there was only the sea or the blood rivers. Swimming had never seemed like an issue to him when he avoided water like the plague and if ever he did fall into water, his muscles seemed paralyzed from the shock anyway. Never was he able to learn what swimming was like. He could barely tolerate watching others swimming. The only exception had been wading in warm waters made by his mother. She said she was going to teach him to swim one day, whether he liked it or not. He had vehemently denied the notion, but his mother would always push the matter and he knew he'd be giving in one way or another. She never got the chance. He missed her.
The demons made his concentration stabilize, at least. An enemy was something he could deal with, despite unfavorable situations. They were below him, like nightmares rising: lumpy, slippery creatures. Waving tentacles crowned with jagged teeth flailed towards him. His magic was weak even above water, but below it, there was no chance of fire at all. He summoned the rest of his power into his Io and it formed from his skin, a blade which he used to sever the spiked limb reaching for his arm. His Io's whip-like form would be useless underwater, and so a short blade was his best option, and probably the only thing he had the energy to form. Black blood exploded into the water, billowing up in clouds.
Fionn was vaguely aware of Emma Carstairs a short distance away who was holding on using a rune for breathing underwater and her seraph blade. Fionn himself was already dying on the outside from the pain of the waters, and so he barely could differentiate between the burning in his lungs from the burning of the rest of him. A scarlet, snakelike thing shot towards Emma through the water. She kicked out, collided with something fleshy and soft. She gagged on revulsion and stabbed downwards; more blood spilled. The sea around them was turning to charcoal.
"Finnegan. Kieran. Zoltan. Anyone!"
His words didn't escape his mouth. He wasn't sure who he was expecting to return his unvoiced cries. He just wanted someone by his side, someone to appear and save him by some miracle. He always thought that he wouldn't do something as foolish as thinking about his loved ones when he was sure to die. He felt that it was a sign of giving up, and that he'd be fighting and resisting to his last breath, not distracting himself with his loved ones. Now he just wanted Finnegan to be by his side to make the pain fade just slightly.
"Need some help?"
Fionn felt something grab onto him and swung his weapon, believing it was a demon, but he swung only at water. The sea began to shimmer with the light of the moon above, lighting all the way down to the demons. The water flashed and Fionn could hear the demon's cries even through the dimming liquid. Fionn was dragged upwards, and he could see the moon lighting his way, a blurred pearl on the surface of the water.
Fionn recalled a certain conversation that he'd had with Wolf and Pyre, one that involved swimming in the ocean. There is great pressure in the depths of the ocean, the lower down the greater the weight of water upon you. If you are to resurface too quickly, your very blood could boil. Something about Mercury, something about a funny word - bends. Fionn wondered if that was going to happen to him with the speed that he was rising to the surface. Then again, he already felt like he was dying. Never before had he been so deep under the water, so helpless, so afraid.
His vision went black before his head broke the surface.
Finnegan had a weird dream.
Not like his other weird dreams about falling in love and dying, no. This was a regular weird dream. If there was such a thing.
He saw a bunch of faces. He saw Mark, he saw Kieran, he saw Fionn, and he saw that tree guy - Iarlath. He saw a man that appeared to be half-goat or something and many faeries that must have been his children. He saw a woman who spoke with a warrior faerie with a worried face before her eyes turned and locked onto Finn. Then, the scene dissolved into his mother talking with his uncle Samuel. He could barely make out the sound of their voices. He caught the words, "Merida," "Phoenix," and "Finnegan."
Finn found himself underwater, panicking, able to breathe but still struggling to move. He found an indescribable feeling, wanting Fionn by his side more than ever so that the pain was lessened. Just having him there would make things better.
Suddenly he was floating in the water out of his own body. He saw Fionn floating beside him, thrashing from pain from being underwater. He struck out against a demon attempting to grab him, filling the water with black ichor.
"Fionn!"
Finnegan tried to swim over to him, but he couldn't make any progress. Fionn was slowing down, losing his energy.
"FIONN!"
"Don't worry, Finn. I've got this."
Finn snapped awake and realized he was still lying at the kitchen table at the LA Institute. He pulled out his phone to check the time and realized he'd gotten a ton of emails about the Frisco Institute that he needed to resolve. He got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach from his dream, wondering if Fionn was back with Emma yet. He went out to the front and found Diana pulling up in the Institute car. Just from her expression through the window and the way she violently parked the car, Finn could tell she wasn't in a good mood.
"Are Emma and Julian back?" Diana demanded.
"Uh…I don't know," Finn admitted. "I just woke up."
She sighed and stomped into the Institute. Finn followed, helping ask if any of the others had seen Julian and Emma yet. They checked all the hiding spots the two could possibly be exploiting, and once they'd determined the pair weren't in the Institute, Diana went outside to the car.
"I didn't see them at the convergence when I went and found the car," Diana said. "They're either still in there or they left the car for some reason."
"I can go check for them," Finn volunteered. "I also sent Fionn out to look for Emma before she got into trouble. Julian must've gone after her when he learned where she'd gone. I was incapacitated, Diana. I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, Finnegan. But I do want them found as soon as possible. I'll wait here for if they return."
Finn changed into his proper hunting clothes and strapped his violin onto his back along with a couple seraph blades and knives. He headed out, seeing Diana perch on the hood of the car like a hawk and scanning everything in sight while she waited for signs of Emma, Julian, or Fionn on the horizon.
Fionn took Zoltan out to the convergence. He'd asked where Zoltan had last seen Fionn and he'd said the convergence. The steed was stubborn, but Finnegan could sense the worry and concern he had for Fionn. Zoltan led Finnegan to the convergence, but he bypassed the cave entrance completely and continued walking. Finnegan barely noticed; he was too distracted by the demonic remains scattered about and still searing away in the sun. Someone had slaughtered the Mantid demons, someone had piled the corpses to the point that the sun had yet to burn the remains away yet and the ashes weren't instantly dissolving, as though even the dust was still reeling and in pain from whatever had done this damage.
Finnegan let Zoltan trot down to the beach. He noticed that Zoltan wasn't leaving hoof-prints. He hadn't known if that had always been the case or if the Astral was purposefully avoiding leaving a trail because they were walking into something dangerous. Finn felt comfortable on Zoltan's back, and though he was still getting flashbacks from their odd connection from before, Zoltan didn't bring up the incident.
"Hey, Zoltan…?"
Finn couldn't find the right words to ask, but thanks to Zoltan's mental connection, communicating with him never required words, and it was actually better when words couldn't summarize what needed to be said since Zoltan could understand better. His language was a language without any clear words, and Finn could appreciate it sometimes when words became difficult. Whenever Zoltan answered, he never spoke in words, but Finn still interpreted his answer properly just from the feelings that Zoltan portrayed.
'You may connect with any Astral you have a strong enough connection with. I enacted our former connection, and so you should be cautious of Astrals connecting to you forcefully. You will learn to sense Astrals all around you and connect to their power on small-scale or large-scale connections - the latter being like the connection between you and I. However, you must be careful. Taking control of Astrals will gain you notoriety as a dangerous force.'
'Can you teach me how to access these powers?'
'You must learn on your own, Finnegan. I was not supposed to intervene when I did before, but I could not let Phoenix be captured.'
'You really care about him, despite all your taunting and teasing.'
'You are all at risk now that your powers are known to the Astral realm. We must take greater caution. Of course, Laura is eager to be at your side as a fellow Musician. However, she is unable to interfere until certain conditions are met. None of us should be interfering with your lives, but I have never been one to follow the rules.'
'I worry about you, Zoltan. I'm sure Fionn does too.'
'I have been looking after that child since she attempted to kill herself. I've long since grown numb to the feeling of worry for him.'
'Kill herself?' Finnegan wondered if Zoltan had had a slip of the proverbial tongue.
'Who is that?' Finnegan looked up and saw someone walking down the beach. 'I will hide us. Do not make any noise or sudden movements. It is a warlock. He is adept at seeing through glamours, but I can manage a strong enough one temporarily so long as we do not draw attention to ourselves.'
Finn did as he was told, wishing he had drawn a rune to increase his sight so he could see the figure better. Zoltan seemed to feel his thoughts, because a small jolt was sent through his leg and a rune shimmered into existence beneath his clothes, sparking gray with electricity. It was a basic Farsighted rune, but he was grateful for it. His vision zoomed in so he could properly see his target, and his eyes widened when he realized who it was.
'Malcolm Fade.'
'What was he investigating?' Zoltan wondered.
They stayed silent as Malcolm retreated up the beach and finally out of sight. Even after he was gone, Finn and Zoltan had a silent agreement to remain still a moment longer just in case.
'Zoltan, please tell me you know something about Malcolm. His motives, what he's doing, anything.'
'I'm not omnipotent, child. I sense passion from him; love that would drive a man to madness. And darkness that men have no right to interfere with and yet they constantly do so.'
'Fionn,' Finnegan thought. 'We need to find him.'
They hurried forward, and Finnegan was slightly glad that Zoltan was able to hide his hoofprints. They made their way down the beach, but instead of some horrific scene or even just a passed out Fionn, they found Julian Blackthorn and Emma Carstairs. They appeared to have slept together on the beach, and Finnegan averted his gaze. He had a lingering thought that Fionn would hardly react since the fey didn't care about naked forms.
'A cloak in my bag,' Zoltan advised.
Finnegan was quick to comply, pulling out the cloak from a bag that really shouldn't have been able to hold such a large object (probably something magic) and threw it over the pair. Their clothes were nearby, soaked in seawater and chilled from being out in the open for so long. Finnegan once again thought about Fionn and how he could probably dry their clothes in an instant.
Julian, ever the cautious Blackthorn that he was, stirred upon the unfamiliar feeling of the fabric above him, and forced himself awake when he realized he was neither lying in a bed nor even inside a building. He rolled over, taking in the situation with panicked eyes. Finnegan allowed him to get dressed, leaving the cloak on Emma as she continued to sleep in the sand. Julian's entire demeanor was defensive. His body was tense, he refused to meet Finnegan's eye, and his pensive expression made Finnegan assume he was dredging up every terrible scenario his imagination could muster.
"Finnegan, I know that I've asked a lot of you during our collaboration, but…"
"I won't tell anyone," Finnegan assured him. "Look, you both have your flaws, but I know that you're good people. You're dealing with so much already with Mark's situation and these killings. But…you need to work this out."
"I know," Julian said, and his entire being seemed to convulse in pain.
Finnegan truly pitied Julian Blackthorn. He had to raise his family all on his own, four younger siblings and his unstable uncle. He'd had to deal with the loss of his older brother and sister because of their fey heritage, he had to cope with the loss of his parents - even having to kill an Endarkened Andrew Blackthorn with his own hands. And now he had fallen in love with his parabatai - the person that he was closest too with a bond like no other. It was really a surprise that more parabatai didn't fall in love considering how intimate the bond could be, but then again, Finnegan had made his bond with Selina and he'd never developed romantic feelings for her. It wasn't because he was strictly gay either; he liked women, he'd just never found any one of them that he could imagine dating, much less marrying. He was beginning to think he was asexual at one point, but no, he just had high standards. Perhaps it was the forbidden-ness of loving someone that wasn't a Shadowhunter that made him fall for Fionn. Either way, his bond with Selina had been born from the fact that they'd been together probably since they'd been infants. Speaking of Selina, he needed to check up on her after her Astral transformation.
"Don't…don't hurt yourself or Emma, Julian," Finnegan advised. "Love is a complicated thing, and in fighting or accepting it, you'll only hurt yourself if you push too hard for or against it. I'll do everything in my power to keep you all safe, okay? That includes this secret. But you should talk to Emma about it. You know how stubborn she is when she wants something. Based on everything I've seen with you two, I think you both want each other, and the forbidden factor makes it even worse. Trust me, I know that loving someone forbidden makes things a little more intense."
Julian opened his mouth to speak, but he continued to open and close it, sucking in a breath before stopping his words from flowing free. He looked like he had a million things on his mind in that moment. His head and his heart refused to cooperate, as it so often was.
"Have you seen Fionn around?" Finnegan asked, both changing the subject to show mercy on Julian and providing a segue from his previous sentence about who he loved.
"No," Julian said. His formal tone returned, the air of an older man within a teenager's body. He was clearly relieved by the excuse to move away from the topic of his forbidden love-life. "I came here when the parabatai bond connected me to Emma as she was drowning. I was guided into the water and just…found her. I didn't see any sign of Fionn."
Finnegan sighed and turned to Zoltan, who came over without missing a beat. "I'll keep searching for him. You talk with Emma when you can and head back to the Institute. Let's just say Diana found out that Emma went to the convergence alone. Please try and knock some sense into your parabatai, Julian. For all of our sakes."
Julian managed a small snicker. "Trust me, I gave her a bit of a lecture last night before…ya know." The corners of his mouth twitched upward. "I know how stubborn she can be; I'm just as frustrated at times."
"And yet you love her for it," Finnegan finished, though not aloud since he knew it would ruin Julian's mood.
While Finn himself wasn't Emma's biggest fan, he could understand why Julian loved everything about her. They'd been together through many things, and Finnegan assumed that their parabatai ceremony had just been a way to keep them together after their parents had died and Emma was threatened to be taken away to another Institute. Being parabatai did assure that the Clave would keep them together. If it weren't forbidden to fall in love with your parabatai, Finn might have thought that being parabatai was pretty much the equivalent of having a soulmate, a bond stronger than a simple wedding could possibly express, a love that was stronger than anything a natural relationship could produce.
Finnegan mounted Zoltan, the muscle memory setting in as he learned to mount the saddle-less steed and command him without reins. "I'll meet you guys at the Institute when I've found Fionn."
He turned Zoltan away and continued down the beach, asking Zoltan if he could track Fionn.
"Finnegan," Julian called.
He turned his head back towards the Shadowhunter. "Hm?"
"You rode in on your horse, no?"
"I did."
Julian was staring at the sand. The tide was low, seaweed lying exposed at the waterline. Any footsteps from the night before had long been washed away, but there were other footsteps embedded in the sand. It looked as if someone had climbed over one of the rock walls, walked up to them, and then doubled back and walked away. They definitely weren't Finnegan's because the footprints were disconnected from the steps that were clearly Finn's, and since he rode in on his horse who left no trail…
Julian's face went pale at the sight.
"Some mundane, I hope," Julian muttered. "Just some mundane who thought we were a pair of dumb teenagers."
Zoltan continued walking without pause before Finn could remember that Malcolm was the one Finn had seen retreating from the pair's current location. Malcolm. The one who had been interfering with their investigation and who might even be this Guardian in the lottery.
'We do not have sufficient information on Malcolm and his motives,' Zoltan warned Finnegan. 'Until we do, it seems that Malcolm has chosen to leave the couple alone. We will hope that he keeps it that way. For now, we need to find Phoenix. Malcolm's interference may yet be worse than we've imagined, but until I have conclusive evidence, I don't want him to know that we're investigating him.'
'We?'
'The Astral community dedicated to Phoenix's protection and ascension. Malcolm has been a suspect for interfering with our work for a while now, but we must take caution with him. We suspect him working with the Unseelie King in order to steal Phoenix's power.'
Finnegan sighed. "Wonderful."
Chapter title: 'Head Above Water' by Avril Lavigne
A beautiful song, I recommend if you like a nice sad but inspiring song
Review