Beyond Reality: Part 12

Word count- 3575

    It was now or never. Shelby had spent countless nights poring over the scrolls Lonora had given her, studying every line until the words were burned into her memory. She could recite the ritual in her sleep, every syllable etched into her mind. She and Rory had practiced endlessly, rehearsing the steps again and again to make sure they left nothing to chance.

    Of course, they couldn’t use the rod itself during their rehearsals, since they didn't have it yet, but they improvised with a stick, pretending it reacted the way they’d been told it would. Every movement, every incantation had to be flawless.

    It had taken far longer than Shelby had hoped to gather everything they needed. The components for the ritual were rare, and the instructions complicated. Every delay gnawed at her nerves, but she pushed through, driven by the knowledge that the fairy didn't have much more time.

     The fairy was still alive, of that, she was certain. The rumors never stopped, whispers of the glowing creature captivating audiences. But in recent months, new whispers had reached her ears. There was a second fairy now.

    The revelation complicated everything, but Shelby refused to let it derail their mission. It wasn’t a question of whether they would rescue them both. It was only a matter of adapting. The ritual would work, but they’d need the blood of both fairies to free them.

     Shelby tightened her grip on her bag, the weight of the components inside grounding her as she prepared to take the final step. There was no room for hesitation now, not with two lives depending on her.

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    The ride back to the circus grounds was heavy with tension. Shelby replayed Lenora’s instructions in her mind, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.

    Rory broke the silence. "Are you sure about this? Once you take that rod, they’ll come after you. They’ll come after both of us."

    "I know," Shelby said, her voice firm. "But I can’t walk away. Not after everything I’ve seen."

    Rory sighed, leaning back in his seat. "You’ve got more guts than most people I’ve met. Let’s just hope it’s enough."

    When they reached the outskirts of the circus, Shelby parked the car in a secluded spot. The sun had set long ago and the circus had been closed for hours.

     "This is it," Shelby said, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Rory nodded. "We’ll go over the plan one more time. Then we move."

    Shelby took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. The fairy’s face, his sorrowful eyes, his trembling hands, flashed in her mind.

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    Shelby and Rory moved through the circus grounds, staying in the shadows to avoid the roaming guards and performers. Shelby’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she was certain the noise would give them away.

     Shelby clutched the small bag Lenora had given her to her chest to keep it quiet. Inside were the tools she needed for the ritual, along with the vial of blue liquid. She tried not to think about the blood magic or what it might cost. ‘Focus on getting the rod’, she told herself. ‘One step at a time.’

    When they reached the ringmaster’s tent, the stillness caught them off guard. The area was eerily quiet, not a soul in sight.

    “He’s not here.” Rory murmured, his voice barely audible as he crouched low and crept toward the tent. “Come on.”

    Shelby hesitated for a moment, scanning the shadows with wide eyes. Every creak of the night sent her heart racing, and she half-expected the ringmaster to appear out of nowhere. Swallowing hard, she pushed past her nerves and slipped through the tent’s heavy flaps, following Rory inside.

    Her hands trembled as she gripped the straps of her bag, every sense on high alert. The oppressive silence felt like a trap waiting to spring.

    Inside the tent, Shelby and Rory moved cautiously, their eyes darting around the dimly lit space. The faint smell of incense lingered in the air, mingling with something metallic and sharp. The clutter of the ringmaster’s belongings was strewn everywhere. Stacks of dusty books, strange artifacts, and various jars filled with substances Shelby didn’t want to think about too much.

    “Look for the rod.” Rory whispered, his voice tight with urgency as he rummaged through a pile of fabric and trinkets.

    Shelby nodded and began searching the other side of the tent. Her hands shook as she lifted objects and peered into boxes, her mind racing. The rod had to be here. It was the key to the ritual, the only thing that could break the spell binding the fairies.

    Minutes ed, each one stretching into an eternity. Shelby turned over a crate of old costumes and cursed under her breath when all she found was a tangle of feathers and broken masks.

    “It’s not here,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as panic started to creep in.

    Rory stood up, his face pale. “It has to be. Maybe he’s hidden it somewhere.”

    Shelby’s gaze darted around the tent, her stomach churning. “What if he’s carrying it? What if it’s with him right now?”

    Rory clenched his jaw, his fists balling at his sides. “Then we’ll have to find him.”

    Shelby hesitated, fear clawing at her throat. “What if we’re too late, Rory? What if he’s already using it on them?”

    Rory stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We’re not too late. We’ve come this far. We’ll find it. They'll be okay.”

    A noise outside the tent made them both freeze. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, echoed in the quiet night. Shelby’s heart leapt into her throat as she exchanged a terrified glance with Rory.

    “Hide,” he hissed, pulling her behind a stack of crates. They crouched low, barely breathing as the footsteps grew louder. Whoever was out there continued walking past the tent, their footsteps fading into the distance.

     “That was too close,” Shelby whispered, her voice shaky.

    Rory nodded, his eyes darting toward the tent flap. “We need to find him. If he has the rod…” He stopped talking. There was no need to state the obvious.

     Carefully, they slipped out of the ringmaster’s tent, sticking to the shadows again. The carnival’s eerie quiet felt oppressive, the usual laughter and music replaced by the faint creaks of empty rides swaying in the night breeze.

    Shelby’s grip tightened on the small dagger she carried, the weight of her bag pressing against her back. Her heart pounded as she scanned the rows of tents, each one blending into the next in the dim light.

    “Where could he be?” she muttered, her frustration mounting.

    “Keep moving,” Rory urged. “We’ll find him.”

    As they turned a corner, a faint, rhythmic hum reached their ears. Shelby froze, her stomach twisting as she vaguely recognized the sound.

    “What is that?” she asked, her voice trembling.

    Rory’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head, listening intently. “It’s coming from over there.”

    They followed the noise, their footsteps soft on the packed dirt. The hum grew louder, accompanied by occasional crackles, like distant electricity. When they reached a larger tent with golden light flickering from within, Shelby’s breath hitched.

    “What's this tent for?” Rory whispered, glancing at her.

    “I don't know…but what if they're in there?” Shelby replied, her voice tight with both fear and excitement.

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    Alaric shifted carefully, his body shielding Kestrel's unconscious form. His wings twitched involuntarily as the iron infused net grazed them, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as the stinging burn spread through his nerves. He didn’t dare move too much, the trap was designed to constrict tighter with any significant struggle.

    Kestrel’s glow had been extinguished, his breathing shallow. Alaric tightened his grip on him, his golden eyes scanning the dim space for any sign of escape. There was none. The ringmaster had planned this too meticulously.

    Alaric’s own glow had dimmed, flickering weakly as the iron sucked away his energy.

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    Shelby glanced at Rory, her determination blazing. “We go in slow, stick to the shadows. Once we’re in, we grab them and get out. No heroics.”

    Rory smirked faintly. “Heroics? Never crossed my mind.”

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    Inside the tent, Alaric froze as the faintest sound of movement reached his ears. He craned his neck, his body tense as he strained to listen. For a moment, he thought it might be another handler coming to check on them, or worse, the ringmaster himself.

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    Shelby and Rory slipped inside through a tear in the canvas, their movements silent and calculated. Shelby scanned the room quickly, her eyes landing on the iron trap at the center of the tent. Her breath caught.

    “There they are.” She whispered, nudging Rory.

    “Dear God…” Rory breathed as his heart clenched at the sight of the fragile creatures trapped like that.

     As they crept closer, Shelby's eyes took in the details of the trap, the iron bars, the shimmering net, the way the two figures were curled tightly together. Her stomach twisted. She’d known this rescue would be dangerous, but seeing the iron designed to poison and incapacitate fairies turned her anger to a boiling point.

    When Alaric spotted them, his instincts were on edge. His golden eyes narrowed suspiciously as Shelby approached, her hands raised in a gesture of peace.

    “We’re here to help,” she whispered urgently.

    Alaric’s expression hardened. “Help? You think you can move this thing?” He gestured angrily at the iron trap. “If you move it wrong, we’ll both be dead before you can blink.”

   Shelby hesitated, her gaze darting to Kestrel’s lifeless form in Alaric’s arms. “We don’t have time to argue. I have to figure it out quickly.”

     Kestrel’s eyes fluttered open as Shelby’s voice crept through his unconsciousness, his blue gaze sharp despite his state. “It's you.” He coughed, choking on the air. “You came.” He gave Shelby a small smile before ing out again.

     Alaric pulled Kestrel’s body tighter against him protectively, as he glared at Shelby. “Touch the wrong thing, and you might kill him.” His voice was sharp with distrust.

    Shelby sighed. “Then tell us what to do.”

    Rory knelt beside her, his hands already pulling tools from his bag. “I’ll handle the mechanics. You keep him calm.” He muttered.

    Alaric shifted slightly, wincing as the net pulled tighter. “You're too late.” He growled, his voice edged with desperation. “The ringmaster will be back any moment… and then it’s over for both of us.”

    Rory clenched his fists. “Not if we can get you out of here first. Where’s the rod?”

    Alaric’s gaze darkened, and he glanced at Kestrel’s still form. “With him. He took it after… after this.” He gestured faintly to the cage, his fingers brushing against the glowing net that sent a spark into his skin. He winced.

    Shelby frowned. “Then we’ll find him. But first, we’re getting you out of this thing.”

    Rory moved to the edge of the contraption, inspecting the intricate locks and runes that shimmered faintly along its surface. “This isn’t going to be easy. If we make a wrong move, we could kill them both.”

    “Then we don’t make a wrong move,” Shelby said, her jaw set. “We’ve got one shot at this.”

    Shelby knelt beside Rory, her fingers trembling as she studied the glowing runes woven into the bars of the cage. They pulsed faintly, as if alive, responding to the fairies’ energy.

    “Lonora mentioned something about this.” Shelby murmured, her mind racing to recall the instructions she’d memorized. “The runes are feeding off their magic, locking them in. If we disrupt the flow, the cage might release them.”

    “How do we disrupt it without killing them?” Rory asked, his voice tight with worry.

    Shelby rummaged through her bag, pulling out a vial of shimmering silver liquid. “This. Lonora called it nullroot essence. It can break the magic’s hold, but temporarily. But we’ll need to apply it to the exact points where the energy converges.”

    Rory scanned the cage, his eyes narrowing. “There, on those three nodes. They’re glowing brighter than the rest.”

    Shelby nodded, her heart pounding as she uncorked the vial. “Keep watch while I do this. If anyone comes…”

    “I’ll handle it,” Rory said firmly, positioning himself near the tent’s entrance.

    Shelby crept closer to the cage, her movements careful as she reached for the first glowing node. Alaric’s golden eyes followed her, a mix of suspicion and faint hope flickering in their depths.

    “This better work,” he rasped.

    “It will,” Shelby assured him, though her voice wavered slightly. She dipped her finger into the vial and carefully applied the liquid to the first rune.

    The reaction was immediate. The node hissed and sparked, its glow dimming as the magic unraveled.

    Alaric flinched as the cage vibrated, the net tightening momentarily before loosening. “Please be careful.” He urged.

    Shelby moved to the second node, repeating the process. Her hands shook as the cage groaned, the sound reverberating through the tent.

    “Kestrel…” Alaric whispered, his gaze shifting to the limp figure in his arms. “Stay with me, please.”

    Shelby finished the second node and quickly moved to the third. As the nullroot essence seeped into the rune, the cage let out a piercing whine before the glowing net dissolved entirely.

    The iron bars remained upright, but their glow faded, leaving the structure inactive.

    “It’s done,” Shelby said, her voice trembling with relief.

    Rory rushed over, helping her pry the bars apart. Together, they created an opening just large enough for Alaric to crawl through.

    He hesitated, glancing back at Kestrel. “I’m not leaving without him.”

    “We’ll get him,” Shelby promised. “But we need to move fast. The ringmaster could come back any second.”

    Alaric nodded, his jaw set as he carefully pulled Kestrel out of the cage. The blue fairy remained limp, his breathing shallow.

    Shelby pulled another small vial from her bag. This one was filled with a shimmering light blue liquid that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of the tent. She pressed it into Alaric’s hand.

    “Give this to him,” she said, her voice urgent but steady. “It won’t heal him completely, but it’ll give us more time.”

    Alaric frowned as he turned the vial in his hand, the liquid swirling inside. “How do you know it’ll work?”

    “I don’t,” Shelby itted, her gaze flicking to Kestrel’s pale face. “But Lonora said it’s made from ancient fairy herbs. It’s meant to strengthen your kind, at least temporarily. It’s the best chance we’ve got.”

    Alaric hesitated, his golden eyes flickering between Shelby and Kestrel. “If this hurts him…”

    “It won’t,” Shelby said firmly. “He’s running out of time. Please.”

    Alaric’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. He gently lifted Kestrel’s head, cradling it in his hand as he uncorked the vial. The scent of the potion was sharp and earthy, filling the small space as he carefully brought it to Kestrel’s lips.

    “Kestrel.” He murmured, his voice insistent and soft. “You need to drink this. It’ll help.”

    Kestrel’s lips parted slightly, his breath even more shallow than before. Alaric tilted the vial, letting the liquid flow slowly into Kestrel’s mouth. For a moment, Kestrel didn’t respond, his body limp and unresponsive. Then, with a faint shudder, Kestrel swallowed.

    The effect was almost immediate. A soft, blue glow began to radiate from his markings, spreading across his body like ripples on water. His breathing steadied, and his wings twitched faintly, their dull sheen regaining a hint of their former brilliance.

    Alaric exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding his features. “It’s working…”

    Shelby leaned closer, her eyes scanning Kestrel’s form. “Good. But we need to move fast. The potion’s effects won’t last long, and the ringmaster might be coming.”

    Shelby had anticipated the challenges of rescuing two tiny, injured fairies. Before leaving, she had prepared a simple baby sling carrier made of soft, sturdy fabric. Now, crouched in the dim tent, she unrolled it quickly, her hands steady despite the chaos around her.

    “This should work,” she murmured, mostly to herself, as she carefully adjusted the sling across her chest.

    Kestrel, still unconscious, was her first priority. She cradled him gently in her hands, mindful of his wings and the bruises along his arms and sides. Shelby carefully nestled him into one side of the sling, making sure he was secure and ed.

    Next, she turned to Alaric, who was watching her with weary, suspicious eyes.

    “You too.” She said softly as she put her hand on the ground for him to climb onto. “I can’t leave you behind.”

    “I can fly.” Alaric rasped, trying to push himself upright, but his legs trembled, and he collapsed back down with a frustrated grunt. The iron mixed with the abuse from the ringmaster’s and Kestrel’s magic had sapped all of his strength.

     “Not a chance,” Shelby replied, as she gingerly scooped him up and eased him into the other side of the sling. She adjusted it again, tightening the fabric to hold both fairies snugly but gently against her chest. Their tiny forms pressed against her, so light they barely felt real, yet the responsibility she carried felt heavier than anything she’d ever known.

    Rory stood guard by the tent flap, his eyes darting between Shelby and the shadows outside. “You ready?” he whispered.

    Shelby nodded, taking a deep breath. The fairies were secure, their faint glows hidden beneath the sling’s fabric. She could feel Kestrel’s steady breaths and Alaric’s occasional twitch as he fought to stay conscious.

    “Let’s move,” she said, standing carefully. Every step had to be deliberate, quiet enough to avoid detection, yet steady enough not to jostle her precious cargo. Rory led the way, and Shelby followed, holding her breath as they slipped out into the night.

    The night air was cool against their skin, but the tension was suffocating as they scanned the shadows for any sign of the ringmaster.

    “We need to find somewhere to hide while we figure out how to get the rod,” Rory whispered, his eyes darting around the circus grounds.

    “There.” Shelby said, pointing to a small storage tent nearby.

    They ducked inside, their breaths coming in gasps as they leaned against a crate. Shelby loosened the sling a little and peeked inside, making sure the fairies were okay.

    As soon as Alaric had the freedom to move, he crawled to Kestrel and brushed his hair from his face. “You’re going to be okay.” Alaric murmured, his voice soft. “I won’t let him hurt you again.”

    Shelby and Rory exchanged a glance, the unknown variables of their mission pressing heavily on them. They weren’t out of danger yet, not by a long shot.

    Alaric finally tore his gaze away from Kestrel, his head turning up as he looked at Shelby. “Why is the rod so important? Why do you need it?”

    Shelby hesitated and glanced at Rory, who gave her a quick nod as if to say it was time to tell them the truth.

    She exhaled and looked down at Alaric. “The rod is what’s keeping you both under the ringmaster’s control. It’s enchanted, tied to your magic, and it’s how he’s been draining you, forcing you to perform. As long as he has it, he can track you, hurt you... even kill you.”

    Alaric’s golden eyes narrowed, his brows furrowing. “So, it’s a leash.” He said bitterly.

    “More than that,” Shelby said, her tone serious. “It’s a weapon. If we can break the spell between it and you two, it will sever his connection to your magic. You’ll be free, but more importantly, he won’t be able to use your power to hurt anyone else, or to strengthen himself.”

    Alaric’s gaze flicked to Kestrel, who was still unconscious, but starting to stir restlessly. “And what happens if we don’t find it?”

    Shelby’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Then... the ringmaster will find you again. And next time, he won’t leave anything behind to save.”

    Alaric’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening as he absorbed her words. “So, we destroy the spell. How?”

    “That’s the tricky part.” Shelby itted. “The rod is bound to him, and it won’t break with just brute force. It has to be undone with a specific ritual, one we can’t perform without the rod itself. That’s why finding it is so important.”

    Alaric nodded slowly, as he thought. He spoke quietly as he watched Kestrel. “There's another way…to break the spell.”

     Shelby raised her eyebrows as she glanced at Rory then back at Alaric. “How? Lenora didn't say anything about another way.”

     “Most humans wouldn't know. It's a well kept secret for a reason.” Alaric looked back up at her. “Fairy wings are very powerful. If a fairy were to willingly give their wings…it could break any spell.”

    The tent was silent as they absorbed the information. “No. We get the rod. There's no way I'm…taking either of your wings.”

    “Hopefully we won't have to. But if bad comes to worse, I'll offer mine to save him.” Alaric ran his fingers through Kestrel’s hair then curled next to him, pulling his body against his.

     Shelby sighed as she tightened the sling again to keep them from bouncing around. “Let's find that rod.”