Outcast Read online

  Allison Rose

  Outcast

  First published by Allison Rose Creations 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by Allison Rose

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  To those who put others before themselves

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  From the Author

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Allison Rose

  Chapter 1

  In Faerie, there is one rule that must not be broken. Those of the Day must never partner with those of the Night.

  The storytellers, spirit-users with the power of influence, spread cautionary tales to prevent partnerships like this. The most common was the tale of the Silver Dusk, the event that shaped Faerie as it was now.

  In a clearing in the Day territory, Kelty of the Night eyed one of the Day Court’s storytellers and his small entourage from her perch opposite them. The magic she wore like an extra skin hid her purple coloring, silver wings, and the long strands of her silver hair, but she still chose to crouch behind a screen of leaves. The gentle light illuminating the clearing where the youth sat, staring with rapt attention at the storyteller, unnerved her, as did the way he told the story.

  “Danger lies with choosing the path that leads away from the light.” The storyteller’s voice was soft, yet filled the clearing at the same time. “Love is where this tale begins, and death is where it ends. But listen carefully, and you will be led true.”

  His yellow wings were folded to his back, fluttering only a little when he made gestures with his arms. He paid no mind to the three others with him who stood off to the side. Even without the dark skin colors of blue, green, and yellow, their lofty expressions would give them away as faeries of the Day Court. They watched with pride in their eyes.

  Occasionally, the storyteller paced slightly; his dusty orange skin and long, straight hair of pale yellow gave him the appearance of the sun come to impart its knowledge on those below, as if it were an act of benevolence, a gift to be bestowed upon the faerie youth of the Day gathered before him. When the storyteller came, it was mandatory for the youth to hear his words. They came willingly, though, hoping for a chance at the glory they imagined the Day Court to be.

  “They were from opposing courts,” the storyteller continued in his melodic voice. “She of the Night and he of the Day. Their partnership was not against the law at the time. But they both refused to join the court of the other before they accepted their bond, as the law demanded.

  “As you well know, each of us are blessed at birth with the energy of the sun or the moon. The marks upon our temples are passed down from the energy of the ones who give us life, denoting us as one of the Night or one of the Day. The ara, the magic within us, connects us all to the ara of the land, but the lunar and solar energies pull us in different directions. It is the natural way of life, opposites working in harmony and existing separately.”

  As he spoke, he made sure to catch the eyes of the slack-jawed youth. Everyone knew the story, but the storyteller had a way of spinning his words together to create a more stunning tale than they could’ve imagined.

  “In direct violation of the law, this couple accepted the partnership that called them together. They stood over the line between the Night and Day territories, one on each side, and clasped arms.”

  Kelty scoffed inwardly at the insane detail the storyteller couldn’t possibly know. The Great Destroyers did this in secret with no witnesses. This part of the story gets more ridiculous every time I hear it.

  “They spoke the word ‘forever,’ and their bond formed.”

  That at least was true. Faeries were potentials, merely attracted to each other on a deeper level and able to see and feel each other’s magic, until they both whole-heartedly accepted the bond. Once they knew deep down they were meant for each other, they clasped hands and their magics were bound together, the power calling to that of the other and also able to combine with it. Though the word “forever” was merely a custom, it served as a promise. Together for the remainder of life.

  The storyteller continued his story with a frown marring his smooth face. “They lived in secret, traveling between the territories and avoiding everyone, lest they come across one who could sense their illegal bond. They foolishly planned to create a new kind of faerie, one with the combined power of the sun and moon.

  “They planned to have a child.”

  He paused, eyes the color of the sky above roaming the audience to make sure he was connecting with each one of them.

  “Before the Silver Dusk, it was unknown what a child of a mixed union would be like. Now we know the result would be a child who will never belong to either the sun or the moon, and thus to neither court. Their magic would be uncontrollable. And destructive.

  “When the child was born, the burst of power that came with its first cry killed its parents. Then an unnatural magic was unleashed in an explosion that rocked through Faerie, destroying the child itself and tearing through every living thing in its path, the power desperately seeking a connection it would never have. For this magic was not able to join with that of the ara. It was an abomination, never meant to exist.

  “It spiraled further and further out of control. The land turned to burnt and barren husks. Faeries dissolved into silver pools of liquid on the ground, unable to return to the ara without guidance. It nearly killed off all members of both courts as it traveled upward with tremendous speed. Those that survived remember hearing a sound like a terrible keening.”

  There was another theatrical pause. Kelty could not see the faces of the youth, but she imagined their eyes were glazed over, picturing the devastation.

  “Silver, silver in the growing dark,” the storyteller said softly.

  A hush fell over those present so that the only noise was the flutter of tiny feathered wings and clawed feet as the runa flitted among the branches above. Though even the small creatures kept their beaks shut as they passed over.

  Then the storyteller’s eyes came alight. “Suddenly, a great blue light spread through the trees, the soil. This magic formed a barrier across the center of Faerie, held together by the leaders of the Day, as we know them now. The spirit magic of our leader, The Glorious, spread through the land by her partner, Drake. They drove the unnatural magic away from the land and up into the sky, where it dissipated and ate at itself since it lacked any element to ground itself in. Even the air itself rejected it.”

  Kelty recalled hearing the same tale from her mother, Kye of the Night, who had been there. She was with The Glorious and Drake as they used their combined magic in the spectacular display that drove off the unnatural power and saved Faerie. She had been there to stand up and claim her birthright
to rule the Night along with her partner, Baron. Kelty could never forget the haunted look in her mother’s eyes as she recounted the horror of the cleanup afterward, both courts drenched in silver blood, the task of guiding the energy of her dead family and the other fallen ones back to the ara within the soil for their final rest.

  This story should be told; it was the underlying purpose of this gathering Kelty did not agree with.

  She adjusted her stance on her perch. The power that blended her into the bark and leaves was second nature to her, but she checked her magical concealment anyway. As one of the Night, she was not supposed to be lurking in Day territory, much less assessing their storytellers.

  “We were saved by The Glorious. We were saved by the light and power of the Day.”

  There it was, the shameless praise for the leader of the Day. Kelty nearly rolled her eyes, though the words were true. The Glorious was the most powerful of Faerie, and she made sure everyone knew it.

  The Glorious’ spirit magic allowed her to sense emotions and purpose, and to create illusions based on those emotions and experiences. With this power, and the considerable debt everyone in Faerie felt they owed her, she created the most powerful Court of the Day in the history of Faerie.

  As if the influence this gave her over all of Faerie wasn’t enough, her storytellers combed the Day villages, looking for faerie youth with power enough to contribute to that of her court. They told the youth they were meant to live different lives, around others of their caliber and strength. The world of the Day was divided into those who were fated to prosper and those fated to suffer; those with a strong connection to the ara and those with the weakest. Even those who knew they had no chance still ran to hear the storytellers, caught up in a dream that would never be but was still as alluring as the sun they so worshiped.

  It was all a lie.

  The Glorious tightly controlled her court, and as evidenced by the rapt expressions of the storyteller’s entourage, they still loved her for it. That was if they were lucky to be in favor. Those not in favor were either tortured or disposed of in the neighboring human world, a place no faerie wanted to go.

  Beyond the Day Court, the commoners of the Day lived very different lives. With little connection to the ara themselves, they relied on the Telk stones that stronger faeries infused with their power. And those stones were becoming increasingly hard to come by with all of the powerful faeries being steadily drawn into court through gatherings such as this.

  The tale continued in a more solemn tone. “And once the destruction was stopped, the land of the south destitute and lifeless, The Glorious and the other rulers guided the fallen faeries into the ara of the land again. The courts of Night and Day as you know them were formed.

  “The leaders of both courts stood before Faerie and decreed there will be no partnerships between those of the Night and those of the Day.

  “Balance of opposites keeps the land bountiful and the ara whole. Duty calls to each of us differently to keep this balance. Remember your place and embrace it, for defying that is what caused this tragedy.”

  The branch beneath Kelty’s feet hummed as the trees surrounding the clearing sensed a surge of energy. There is the true purpose of this gathering. Kelty ducked lower as if she could see the storyteller’s magic herself, itching to tap into the forbidden part of her power that would allow her to see the spirit magic but knowing it was too risky.

  The storyteller’s job was to dig deeper and truly assess if any of the youth gathered were worth bringing back to court. They would stay there for the remainder of their lives, perhaps never even seeing their families again. If he suspected that they were powerful enough, they would have no choice but to leave with him and be forced into The Glorious’ service, becoming a part of a court that was tightly controlled; the slightest misstep could result in terrible punishment.

  Kelty studied the reactions of the youth below. Most had looks of awe on their faces. They murmured to each other, none seeming the least bit bothered by any of this. Some beamed at the storyteller.

  Only one drew Kelty’s attention. She stood alone at the back of the group; lavender wings made up of smaller membranous segments outlined in a darker shade of purple were folded down her back, larger top wings partially overlapping the smaller sections. The dark braid that flowed over one shoulder stood out against her rich purple skin that was much like the color of Kelty’s own.

  Faeries were born pure white and developed over a matter of days into the color most suited to them. Purples tended to be more intuitive, cool-headed, but also courageous, the ones who got things done. Kelty involuntarily approved of the youth, although the stoic way she stood there in silence reminded her more of her sister than herself.

  No, don’t think like that either, Kelty berated herself. It was always possible she would fail to save this youth from the Day Court. It happened many times before. If Kelty wasn’t in a position to warn the youth away without being discovered by the storytellers or if the youth went willingly, there was nothing Kelty could do. She didn’t need the added guilt that thinking of this stranger as her sister would bring up.

  Brows creased, Kelty waited to see what the storyteller would do once his tale concluded.

  His soft voice carried as he delivered his last line. “Remember, remember this tale and be at peace.”

  The storyteller gave them all a bow of his head and stood with open arms, welcoming and inviting the youth to speak with him as they always did, asking eager questions. If only they knew it wasn’t as glamorous as they imagined. But Kelty could not shout that across the clearing like she wished she could. She was not even supposed to be trying to thwart the gathering as it was.

  A flash of purple drew her eye as the female walked toward the storyteller with purpose in her step.

  No. Kelty worried her lip as the storyteller flashed the youth a smile. This one may go willingly. Her wings twitched and her fingers dug into the bark.

  She remained as they spoke, looking for any sign the youth was being forced. After a few minutes of conversation, her hopes deflated as the youth left on foot with the storyteller, leaving behind a group of disappointed others to swarm his entourage instead.

  The reaches of the Day Court know no bounds.

  Letting the breath she had held rush out though her teeth, Kelty turned and made to sneak around to where the storyteller and the youth disappeared to. There was still a slim chance the youth may listen to reason and Kelty could help her escape.

  But then she froze, wings halfway open, as the air around her grew thicker with moisture than the heat of the day called for. Little beads of water formed on her skin.

  She grounded herself, feet tingling with the power she sent into the bark beneath, and frantically looked around for the source of the power. Only once had she been detected and attacked while out in the open. That had been a mistake, the faerie backing off once he recognized the heir of the Night.

  But this time, she was in Day territory poking around where she didn’t belong. Her heart began to pound.

  Who is watching me?

  And as her thoughts ran in circles, she heard a soft male voice in her ear.

  “Save her from the lie.”

  Chapter 2

  Every sense in Kelty’s body heightened as she sent more of her power into the tree beneath, deepening her connection to it. She needed to see who this faerie was. Even using the tree’s senses, all she gleaned was a ripple in the air, as if trying to view something through a watery surface.

  The presence began fading away quickly. The faerie was on the move.

  No. You will not get away with this.

  Refusing to give in to the fear that threatened to take over her mind, Kelty took off on silent wings. She kept track of the underwater feeling, the gathering of moisture in the air.

  Whoever this faerie was, he knew too much. There would be worlds of trouble if Kelty were caught meddling in the business of the Day. The Glorious would surely have
punishments in mind for her worse than death, especially if she found out about Kelty’s secret ability to wield all forms of magic.

  Kelty was a threat to The Glorious’ power, a threat the leader of the Day would strike down in an instant if she ever found out.

  Her favorite form of torture was that of the mind. She could drive anyone to madness, or she could have those of her court do so. Several of her spirit-users could mess with memories, or even remove them completely.

  And if someone from the Night Court had followed her to spy, her parents finding out about this would mean she might never be allowed out of court again.

  Kelty’s fingers gripped the bark harder as she swung from branch to branch. The trees were becoming too close together for flight, but she followed the faerie’s presence as best she could. Her breath came in quicker gasps.

  The magic that lingered in the air drew her toward a place farther into the forest. The trees guided Kelty, for she could not see the other faerie. There was just this sense that a presence was there. It must be a trick of water magic, given the moisture and the scent like that before a storm, which put Kelty at a disadvantage. Though she had the power over water, it was too risky to use it, to expose her secret. And the best way to fight water was with water.

  I really hope it does not come to that.

  The invisible one headed toward the Great Divide, the river that bordered the Day and Night territory. It didn’t actually keep anyone out, only serving as a physical marker. Kelty could just glimpse the light of the sun glinting painfully off the water and the relative quiet of her home territory beyond as the faeries of the Night slept. She glimpsed a few of the Nym along the river.

  The Nym were stronger faeries, such as herself, of both courts who were tasked with assessing the ara of the land, the health and balance of the natural world, the beasts, and the faerie. They worked during opposite shifts; the Day during their waking hours and the Night during theirs. The Day Nym were mostly of court, and therefore more powerful, whereas the Night Nym were comprised of both court faeries and commoners. Kelty carefully remained aware of her surroundings in case one of the Day Nym were powerful enough to see through her concealment.