Aleks Mickelsen and the Twice-Lost Fairy Well by Keira Gillett

Author:Keira Gillett [Gillett, Keira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Keira Gillett
Published: 2017-07-06T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight: The Firstborn

Aleks turned at once and ran, racing to catch up with his friends all the while stuffing his earplugs back in place. He dodged around corners, distracted so much by the impact of Kafirr’s rough words that he nearly crashed headlong into Filip’s back.

His lovelorn friend raised an eyebrow. “You all right there, mate?”

Aleks slowed down and caught his breath. “I’m fine, but those howls weren’t the banshees. They were from those troll kids. We have to hurry.”

“Are you certain?” asked Zaria.

Aleks nodded grimly. “Kafirr was furious. He said not to come back for him.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Henrik said, stepping aside for Aleks to pass.

At the front, Aleks took a steadying breath, and let his innate magic paint him a picture of the dungeons. They had to find an offshoot halfway between Kafirr and the stairwell that had brought them to this lower level. He could almost see it and took off for it, keeping his fears to himself that he might be losing the gift that made him useful. He also pushed aside the part of him that worried about this worry. Normalcy was what he wanted after all, wasn’t it?

Henrik ran apace with him, sword drawn at the ready. They took one hallway and then another. Suddenly, Aleks could see in his mind the correct path to the kids. It lit up in his mind like a beacon. He grabbed Henrik’s arm and stopped him.

“We’ve gone too far,” he said at the Stag Lord’s questioning look.

Henrik turned around without comment and Aleks told the others when to stop running. A small alcove at the start of the hall hid a big secret. Behind the torch-bearing sconce lay a nearly hidden passage.

The fit was extremely tight, and Zaria had to shrink Henrik’s cloak so its golden antlers would fit through the space. Christoffer grabbed the torch as he passed by, and it was a good thing he did, for the other side was dark as pitch.

Aleks’ eyes adjusted to the torchlight once in the corridor. His insides crawled at the sight before him. Beside him Zaria gasped in horror. Two troll girls were held in the clutches of a group of banshees. One troll girl was white as a ghost, and the other partially petrified, her skin turning into stone. Both girls’ eyes were glazed over, their fight gone.

He was glad to be wearing the earplugs, which muted the banshees’ torturous wails. The little sound that leaked through caused his skin to erupt into gooseflesh. He rubbed his arms. A dulled clamor drew his attention to the cells that formed the end of the hall. Hands reached out, desperate to stop what was happening. That shook him into action.

He plucked an arrow from his wrist-quiver and raised his bow, firing into the banshees, appreciative now more than ever for the hours of lessons and practice he had put in over the years. The arrow stuck one in the shoulder. She arched her back and cried out.

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