Free Blood of Retribution by Bonnie Lamer Page B

presence is not fazing him at all. 
     
    Taz follows me down the stairs and outside.  I’m so happy I don’t see anyone on my way out.  I’m still on the verge of crying and I definitely don’t want to tell anyone why.  I don’t think I could even get the words out without bawling my eyes out.  I know it was the darkness that made Kallen say such cruel things, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
     
    Instead of walking along the beach, I follow the road through the woods.  I know that if I take a right at the fork in the road about half a mile up, it’ll lead me to the palace.  Definitely not going there.  For the first time, I’m going left.
     
    After walking for about thirty minutes, I find myself on the outskirts of a village.  It’s magnificent, with horseless carriages (not cars, literally horseless carriages hovering over the ground) meandering through bright colored buildings, both short and tall.  The roads aren’t paved, but I guess they don’t need to be since they’re not really driven upon.  The traffic flows smoothly and the carriages always yield to pedestrians.  The carriages are all different sizes and colors.  The ones belonging to the wealthy are easy to pick out with their ornate decoration and open windows that give glimpses of the luxury within.  There are smaller carriages that look to fit only one or two people and are simple in design. 
     
    Most of the traffic though is pedestrians.  I have entered a sea, no, more like a lake, of black hair and green eyes.  The remarkable thing is even with those similarities, Fairies are still able to easily distinguish themselves by their choice of styles and colors for their clothing and the cut of their hair.  Every body shape is represented from the very small to the very large.  Regardless of their size, most of the Fairies are gorgeous.  I get a pang in my heart as I think of the words my gorgeous Fairy last spoke to me. 
     
    As I walk, I pass by shops selling things like cookware and hardware.  I pass by restaurants with patios full of Fairies enjoying good food and conversation.  I try to ignore the fact that most of the discussions are getting heated.  I pass by offices where Fairies are doing who knows what.  I don’t see any clothing stores, probably because Fairies use magic to dress themselves. 
     
    What really amazes me is how clean everything is.  Though this small village is bustling, there’s no exhaust fumes, graffiti or litter that I would have found in downtown Denver.  The Fairies are cordial to each other, still saying hello as they pass by and they’re respectful of their surroundings, regardless of the darkness trying to consume them. 
     
    At least, most of them are cordial.  I’m picking up some definite hostility coming from several areas on the street.  Some voices are starting to rise and words are being used that are making mothers and fathers cover their children’s ears.  Great, more darkness.  Isla told me that it was affecting the whole realm, but that was just an abstract concept when she said it.  Now, it’s a reality.  A reality that I have to do something about.
     
    I make my way towards two males who are about to come to blows, and keep my head down.  No sense in making things worse by being easily recognized – either as the unloved Princess or the one who released the darkness upon them.  I almost pull it off.  Almost.  A hand that I swear is made out of tissue paper reaches out to me when I am just feet away from the Fairies who are clenching their fists, waiting for the other to throw the first punch.
     
    “This is your fault,” a raspy voice says.  I recognize that voice.  It’s the scribe.  What is he doing here?  I thought he never left the archives of the palace.  The little Fairy’s voice rises remarkably high for someone who sounds like there is a gravel pit in his throat when he says, “You have unleashed this evil upon the realm, seeking