The Earth Prince

“Drink,” someone urged me.

At least my ears are working well. The idea didn’t sound too bad. My throat was dry beyond words and ached with thirst. I didn’t hesitate to part my lips.

A thick, warm, substance seeped onto my tongue and I began to cough raggedly at the saltiness.

My eyes snapped open. They met the deep-set gray gaze of the faerie who sat beside me with a wooden bowl in hand.

“Where am I? What happened?”

She placed a hand on my chest, shushing me. “Calm yourself, your highness,” she said, her voice smooth and soothing.

I nodded, and rested my head on the soft, down pillow.

“Who are you? Where is Stellan?”

“Makya. Prince Stellan is waiting for you to heal. I made him go to bed,” she said. “He cares for you. He sat in that chair for two days just to make sure no one harmed you while you rested.”

“He did?”

“Yes. Now drink before it gets too cold.”

That was surprising. Stellan liked to pretend that he was hardened, and uncaring. Still, we both treated each other like brothers, and brothers were often rivals.

There was a white tattoo of a bird on the right side of Makya’s light brown cheek. Her hair was long and white, and though most faeries were ageless, I could tell she was an elder.

“How long have I been out?”

She reached the bowl to my mouth again. “Four days. It was quite a challenge ridding you of the corsus poison. But, I’m confident that most is out of your system and you’ll be free of it all within another day or two. For now, this brew will heal your aching stomach and soothe your parched throat.”

“Four days,” I said, grabbing a handful of my hair and staring at the ceiling. “We were supposed to leave for Allandria.”

“Allandria will still be there when you recover.”

“Queen Sorcha will not be pleased,” I said with a heavy sigh.

“She will be glad that you are still alive, young prince. Now, do not worry yourself. Rest. Get well.”

I wanted to ask more questions, but the brew lulled me into sweet sleep. Tired of the empty void, the darkness, I tried to fight it.

“I can help you,” a disembodied voice whispered from within.

* * *

My eyes popped open. The dim light from a single candle welcomed me.

What was that voice?

My head lolled to the side as I watched the flame flicker and dance. I heard soft singing come from the next room. The flame seemed to sway with the soft melody.

I tried to sit up, but the pain forced me back down.

The room was small, with four stone walls, and a tiny window at the top, right above the bed I lay upon.

I thought back to what had happened and vaguely remembered the corsus and his minions. Oh yes, he’d infected me with black dust. The pain was there somewhere, but manageable.

Makya was gone, and I found myself wishing she was there. There was safety in her presence. Though alone, the tiny hairs on my arms rose as the heavy gaze of another made me shoot up in bed.

A memory of a soft unnatural voice still haunted me.

A tiny cackle set me on edge.

“Who is there?” My voice came out cracked and I swallowed against the dryness. Still, I kept my eyes open wide, and refused to blink. I wanted to catch whatever was in that room with me.

My eyes shot to the candle’s flame. It no longer swayed. Now it stood still, and reached higher into the air.

“Maxim,” the voice whispered.

Cold flooded my veins.

“Who are you?”

The flame cast a glow on the wall, and that’s when I saw it; a shadow that wasn’t my own, huddled in the corner.

“Call me star, for I am as old as the universe, and have watched it shift and evolve,” it said.

“Star?” I repeated, wetting my lips. “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, I think you know,” Star said. “Emperor Jasper wants the Aether, and you will take me to her.”

The candle flickered out and a black blanket of darkness smothered me.