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22 The Cliff

Like trash. Those ogres had thrown Sorem away like trash. Marva caught him by the back of his shirt and cape, but he just started to slip out of it.

The levitation spell she put on him wasn’t working. He fell faster. Holding him by the hands wasn’t an option so she did something far riskier, she tucked her wings until her body grew big enough to catch him under the arms.

Flying with shorter wings was already painful but while carrying someone was the worst. As a consequence, she couldn’t maneuver well and they slammed into the side of the cliff.

“Prince Sorem,” Marva called. “You must reach up with your good hand. I cannot carry you to the very top. Please.”

Nothing, he made not a sound. She regretted not coming for him sooner. He’d been so passionate in his desperation as he’d cried out to her. So why wasn’t he fighting now?

Each attempt she made to get higher came for a brief moment before she plummeted again.

“Oh, no!” Once she steadied, she surveyed the open valley on her right, the stone of the cliff on her left, the insurmountable journey back up, and, of course…the deadly drop below.

“Well, now,” said a voice, “isn’t this just perfect?”

Body burning, Marva picked her head up to find a golden fairy before her.

Matax.

He fluttered in the air and took on what she came to know as his favor posture, sitting casually as he flew.

Help from him seemed unlikely but Sorem felt heavier by the minute.

Matax’s dark eyes took them in, and he suggested, “Why don’t you simply make him…small?”

Embarrassed, Marva said, “I don’t need your help.”

And she didn’t now that he’d given her this simple idea. It was the easiest spell for any fairy.

“Should I wait on you?” Matax asked.

Face turned away, Marva muttered the words needed to conjure up the magic. Nothing happened.

Her distress drew Matax closer. “It should work on everyone,” he marveled.

“Not everyone.” Marva feared enough for Sorem that she used all her strength to get higher. “Oh no. He’s—”

“A moron?” Matax offered.

She shot him a look and he shrugged, smug.

“He’s gone mad,” Marva corrected. “Please. Help me get him back up again and I’ll soothe him. But I cannot do that on my own.”

Matax flew up to meet her. The size difference alone was making him fade in and out of view.

“Let me say I am impressed that you can straddle the mortal and immortal world long enough to use fairy wings on your human body. I…I am impressed.”

Marva’s muscles trembled and not just for the heavy cargo which she carried.

“I am impressed,” Matax said again. He flew back then grinned. “But please die.”

He shot forward and Marva had no choice but to drop. The sound he made upon slamming his feet into the cliff had the world roaring with thunder.

“Idiot!” she cursed herself. “Bloody idiot!”

“I’m not an idiot,” Sorem muttered.

The defeat in his voice made Marva long to say something but Matax zipped past then recalibrated.

“You know,” Matax boasted, “I am enjoying this.”

Marva flew up to avoid the next attack, but Sorem’s cry meant he’d probably suffered a cut of some kind. That was why Matax slowed in his following attack.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He couldn’t injure them directly. A glance up showed some rocks coming loose. He’d planned to use that passive method.

It was so difficult to dodge the first bolder to sail past.

“Sorem, please. Prince Sorem!” Marva begged, “Make a wish. Make a wish to be anywhere else. You must use the magic and take the penalty on your own. I cannot do this for you. Please!”

Matax slammed into the cliff again, laughing with glee.

“Just let me fall,” Sorem muttered. “Everyone’d be better off.”

He was slipping so Marva risked growing yet again to hold him better across the chest. She whispered by his ear, “If you died, they will simply laugh harder. Where is your revenge then, Prince Sorem? Come. Make a wish. Make any wish. I beg of you. Make a wish. I cannot hold you any longer.”

A flutter by Marva’s nose had her looking up. Matax was now also big but flying.

“Behold, I can do it, too.” Matax looked Sorem over and pouted. “Oh, what a sad excuse for a man.”

Anger filled Marva’s veins. “The only sad excuse is you!”

“But look at him,” Matax teased. “Once again, a woman holds him up. A woman he will eventually bring death. Just like his rescue of the princess had gone oh so well.”

A rumble in the back of Matax’s throat came with genuine revelry.

Sorem shot awake and lunged at him.

“Prince Sorem, no!” Marva shrunk down and shot past Matax, dragging Sorem from his arms. “You should never attack a fairy.” They fell but in a spiral fashion and Marva decided that going back up was impossible for now. “Make your blasted wish, Sorem! What is it you want! Wish for something.”

A chill fell over them and the world vanished. They slammed into the ground a second later.

Marva trembled as she looked back at her wings. That damage alone would take time to fix. Boots shuffled and people murmured, and it was then that Marva realized where they were. They were in a pub of some kind.

“Naked women falling outta thin air is one thing. Women looking like you is another,” one said.

Eyes leered at her but she wasn’t sure why. From her burnt wings to her strange markings, there were a number of reasons.

Sorem brushed against her feet as he came around and she clutched his shirt. It was a foolish thing to do—he’d be of no help.

“Get her up,” the barkeep ordered.

Hot hands grabbed Marva’s arms and yanked her to stand. The dread that fell over her came with tears welling in her eyes. She’d earned this. For interfering with human nonsense. She’d more than earned this!

“Let her go.”

It was a guttural voice at first but grew louder when Sorem stumbled to his feet.

“I said let her go!” He grabbed the dagger strapped to his chest and swung it, catching one man in the arm. “That’s my fairy. Let her go!”

Hair hanging before his eyes as he moved hunched, he scanned the room.

“And I dare you to touch her.”

The dank tavern fell silent and Sorem staggered back.

“Jvalan, come here,” he commanded.

Marva looked from one of her captors to the next and swallowed hard. “Prince Sorem, I’m…I’m not sure I can—”

“I said come here!” he barked.

One hand let her go then another and she took the short steps needed to hide herself at his back. The moment his hand came behind him to hold her waist, she tucked herself smaller.

“I have money,” Sorem said, seething, “and I have little patience. So what will it be? Me unleashing this fairy’s power here to burn this damn place to the ground, or you taking my coin and giving me a blasted room?”

One man stepped forward to perhaps take either offer but Sorem brought the knife up to his throat.

“You need not come close to me to answer, you bastard.”

Others perhaps mistook the gravel in Sorem’s voice for raw fury, and indeed that was the case, but Marva heard the pain also. The hand holding her close…didn’t really hold her.

His wrist; he was injured. Imaginings of the ways they could be overpowered and killed clouded her mind.

“Whoa.” The barkeep raised both hands as he came from around the counter. “Peace, friend. Nobody means you any harm. Here. I’ll gladly take your coin. Might even throw in something for your pet fairy to wear if’n you’ve got enough.”

Body still heaving, Sorem shoved the man in his grip down and fished into his robes for his money bag. Three coins landed on the floor and the barkeeper was slow to retrieve them.

“Good. This is more than enough. Welcome.” He leaned back and called, “Get me one of your frocks, will ya, Mo’el?”