"We assumed that the new President would have other matters to deal with," Selina's father said once we'd all gathered around the fire. "After all, if nothing else he has my 'funeral' to plan. But while we were picking up our IDs the man at the desk assumed we were there to see the President's 'special guest' speak to the Assembly."
"Crap," Mickey said, punching the ground next to him. "I don't think we need to check this guy's name to know who he's sending."
"It's not a he," Selina's father replied. "It's a she. I... accidentally... caught a glimpse of her picture; it's the same woman who accompanied me to the meeting in England."
"My mum?" Niana asked, squeezing my hand so hard from the shock that I visibly winced, causing her to give me an apologetic smile. "How can they be trying the same kind of attack as before? They can't believe we'd let them do that a second time, surely?"
"I don't think they plan on attacking," Herian replied. "Honestly, I think this is where the enemy tries to turn the rest of the world against us. They need some kind of final proof of the threat of the fairy races, and who would know better than someone who is themselves a fairy?"
"Then we have to get there first," Selina said, "or at least be a hell of a lot more persuasive."
"Why did you say we might not want to be involved?" Mickey asked, giving Herian a puzzled look.
"Because we may have misjudged the situation," Herian replied, "and if we have, and this turns into a fight, you may need to be willing to kill the messenger." He shook his head. "I can't ask you to kill a member of your own family, I just can't."
"Whatever that... thing... is, it's not my mother," Niana replied, standing up suddenly. "If I have to kill it in order to save people, I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes."
"Then we'd better go," Herian said. "Let's just hope my magic is as effective at disguising us as it used to be."
When we teleported we made sure to go to a location a few blocks away from the United Nations building, so that we could have our disguises applied and so we could sort out our respective IDs away from any prying eyes.
Once we were ready, we looked just like any other smartly-dressed professionals about to go on their daily commute. The few signs that any of us were anything other than human had been covered up, and after one last check we stepped out into the street.
I could feel Niana's grip tightening on my hand, making me remember that she'd never been to a human city before, never mind one the size of New York, with the thousands of people constantly milling around us. I was amazed none of us got separated from the group, and it was only the considerable height of Herian that allowed us to focus on where we were heading.
The first indication we got that we were close to our destination was the group of armed guards forming a perimeter around the square in which the UN building stood. We were forced into separate lines in order to go through the security checkpoints, but I made sure Niana stayed with me; something was making me feel uneasy and I wanted her close.
As we got through the checkpoint without any problems I could see our group ahead of us, though it took me a second to realise Selina wasn't with them. As I spun around to look I saw her being escorted into the square by a SWAT team, while more police started to surround us. By now the people in the crowd had also realised what was going on, some of them appearing startled while others took out phones or cameras to take pictures.
"I'm sorry guys," Selina said as we regrouped in the middle of the circle. "One of the guards had some kind of magic-negating item on him and I got too close to it."
"Drop the façade, fairy scum," the SWAT leader said, pointing his gun at Selina. "We know you're not who you appear to be – any of you – so do as you're told or we'll shoot you as hostile actors on US soil."
"Do as he says," the ex-President said, reaching out to stop me grabbing the sword at my belt. "We're here to save lives, not put them at risk. If bullets start flying innocents could get caught in the crossfire."
With a sigh Herian waved a hand, making our disguises melt away and revealing us to the surrounding – and startled – crowd.
"I'm arresting you for terrorism offences," the team leader said, the guns still trained on us.
"But we haven't done anything wrong," Niana protested as a warm light started to appear around her hands. "You're threatening us without any provocation."
"I don't need provocation," the leader replied. "You've lied to us so far; why should I believe a word you say?"
"Stand down, Mendes," came a loud voice from behind him. A man in a smart blue police uniform was striding through the crowd – which parted for him, allowing him to pass – a series of medals on his breast showing us this was no mere beat officer. Our attention, however, was drawn more to the two people following him: one was a small woman wearing a summery dress, her blonde hair flowing down her back and a journalist's ID hanging around her neck. The other was a man who stood at more than six foot five, a long red cloak just about hiding the ornate ceremonial armour underneath. There was, however, no sign of any form of weaponry on his person. "My apologies, I had no intention of you being threatened," he said to us, "this was certainly not the order I gave to Captain Mendes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Niana."
"How the hell do you know her name?" I asked angrily, before any of the others even had a chance to speak.
"That would be my doing," the red-robed figure said, stepping forward. "I had no intention of this being the response you were met with, however." He shook his head. "In my life I've discovered humans are often prone to reacting before using their supposedly great intelligence to ascertain the truth of the situation."
"That doesn't answer my question," I responded. "You haven't given us a reason to trust you at all, whoever you are."
"I trust him," Selina said. "I've never seen an aura like his before but he's definitely a fairy." She shrugged. "I don't know why but I don't believe he's a threat to us."
"Captain, your men can return to their posts now," the commissioner said, turning to face Mendes. "Don't be visible enough to cause panic among passing civilians, but be ready to respond at a moment's notice if you get the call."
Mendes nodded, saluting before signalling his men to move out.
Once they'd gone, the commissioner turned to the mysterious fairy. "Ressik, you know I'll give you any assistance I can. Tell me, what do you require?"
"We need a room where we can speak in private," the fairy replied, "and, if at all possible, I would seek an audience with the Secretary-General and at least one respected representative from every continent on this planet."
"I'll see what I can do," the commissioner replied. "I can promise you your first request, but if I were you, I wouldn't hold your breath on the second."
We soon found ourselves in one of the rooms that had been put aside for especially delicate negotiations. A large wooden table dominated the centre of the room, while paintings of past guest speakers dotted the walls. The wall in front of us comprised a series of large glass windows that gave a view into the assembly chamber, and although the chamber was largely empty at that time, it was clear preparations were being made for something important. While the rest of us sat down at the table, the female journalist hovered in the corner of the room, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
"Kizzy, sit down," Ressik said, nodding at a seat next to him. "If your father believed you were in any danger from my kind do you really believe he would have allowed you to be here?"
"Who is this?" Niana asked, eyeing the woman with an air of suspicion as she took her seat. "I understand why most of us are here, but I don't understand the purpose of a journalist being involved."
"You're Kizzy McDonald, aren't you?" Selina's father asked, and when she nodded, he turned to us and explained, "The talented youngest daughter of the most respected journalist of the east coast, who's hardly a slouch herself when it comes to writing."
"How do you know who I am, sir?" Kizzy asked, giving him a quizzical look.
"Firstly, please don't call me sir," he replied with a laugh, "as of this week I'm no longer the President – at least, as far as most people are concerned. My name's Terry, so you can call me that. As for how I know you, I've been a friend of your father's for longer than I care to mention. The last I heard I was still your godfather, so I've kept an interested eye on your career."
Kizzy's eyes widened; apparently she hadn't known that little – or large – bit of information.
"Not to break up this collective backslapping session," Mickey said, letting out a slight cough to try and get people's attention, "but does someone want to explain why what felt like half the NYPD just threatened to shoot first, ask questions later?"
"As I said downstairs, that was my fault," Ressik replied. "I promise, I didn't realise they'd threaten you; I would have given far clearer instructions otherwise."
"So you just thought you'd arrest a group of fairies in the middle of the UN building? For what?" Selina snapped. "I know I said you were trustworthy but I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps my first instinct was wrong."
"Ressik is a precog," Kizzy said, before Ressik had a chance to defend himself. "Essentially, he can see the future, but unfortunately he only sees fragments in his dreams, so he's never sure what is a mere figment of his imagination and what's a real warning."
"Two weeks ago I began to get a very specific fragment," Ressik explained. "It was an image of New York's skyline – at least, it should have been except for the fact that huge chunks of it were missing." He shook his head as he remembered. "There were pillars of smoke rising from multiple sites across the length and breadth of the city."
"And this matters to us because...?" I asked, trying to hide my frustration.
"Because yesterday my father received this email," Kizzy said, putting a tablet computer down on the table so we could all see. On the screen was an email with the words 'You have two days to save New York' in the subject line. Gasps escaped the mouths of everyone in the room. "Ressik had seen premonitions of you all coming here, and he already knew Feth'rael was trying to fool the world for some reason, but when this email appeared Ressik realised action had to be taken. Now."
"All I knew was that a fairy was involved somehow," Ressik said, letting out a sigh. "I didn't for a second believe any of you would play a part – indeed, my kind have been watching British fairies for longer than I've been alive – however, I simply could not risk alerting the authorities if it was too late for them to respond to the threat. I hope you can at least appreciate that the shortened deadline meant I didn't have many choices."
"I say we trust him," Crystal said, breaking the silence that had suddenly descended over the room. "We've been saying it all along: we need every ally we can find. If you'd been told to hate someone and then they tried sneaking into the UN building unnoticed, you probably wouldn't start by asking them to politely explain what they were doing."
"I'm inclined to agree with Crystal," Niana said determinedly before the rest of us could voice an opinion. "If Ressik had ill intentions then he wouldn't have saved us in the lobby." She shrugged as though it was case closed, before asking, "but what do we do next?"
"If we are to gain an advantage in this war we cannot afford our secrecy any longer," Ressik replied. "This is why I asked for the Secretary-General to come here; he's one of the few – along with the other leaders – who might be able to convince the world to offer us aid while we still have a chance of turning this around."
Just then the door opened and a tall African man dressed in a smart blue jacket stepped in. He was followed by six rather nervous-looking people – three men and three women – who shuffled into the room but seemed unwilling to approach the table.
Ressik stood up, walking over to the first man. "You must be Secretary Orji," he said, bowing deeply. "I am honoured that you have graced us with your presence."
"From what the Commissioner told me, I should be thanking you," Orji replied, returning the bow. "You must excuse my colleagues' rudeness, but considering recent events they're a little... tense. If there was any way you might be able to show that you trust us, I suspect they may be willing to at least listen."
"Show yourselves," Ressik said, turning to the rest of us. "I mean, your true selves." Almost in unison everyone around the table – other than the President and Kizzy – released the enchantments they'd been using to hide their wings, eliciting a mixture of shock and wonder from the dignitaries.
The biggest gasp, however, came when Ressik released his own enchantment; while his height was left unaltered, it was revealed that he was wearing a glittering red robe and a set of bracelets on his right wrist that were encrusted with innumerable gems, at the centre of which was a gem that appeared to be producing its own gleam. On top of this, sprouting from his back were a pair of wings that appeared far too delicate for a fairy of his size.
He let out a light chuckle at the look on Kizzy's face. "I'm sorry, Kizzy, I forgot your father is one of the few humans to have seen my true appearance." He turned back to the dignitaries. "I am Prince Ressik, one of the last heirs to an ancient fairy realm that once ruled large parts of the west coast of this country. I believe I speak for both myself and Princess Niana when I say the time has come for us to stop hiding."
"But why now?" Orji asked, looking between Ressik and the rest of the group.
"Because the human race is being lied to," I said suddenly, catching even Niana off guard with my sudden outburst. "You... we... are being told that fairies want to destroy us, when our real enemy is the one fermenting this tension."
"What Clint says is true," Ressik confirmed as he made a set of seats appear out of the air, which the dignitaries cautiously sat on. "We remained hidden because our role here was to protect this world from its darker creatures. As humanity lost faith in our existence our power grew weaker, and as we grew weaker they grew stronger – until now, when we're both facing our races' potential extinction. If we don't work together, Feth'rael is in danger of winning."
"But who is he?" a Frenchman in a well-pressed black suit asked. "What does he want?"
"Feth'rael is akin to what you would call the Devil," Ressik replied. "He is the lord of the fairy afterlife. As for what he's planning, we can't be certain, but we fear he's planning a great ritual to give him an advantage that even our combined resources may find difficult to overcome."
"What's that sound?" Crystal asked suddenly, alerting us to a commotion coming from outside the door.
"Secretary Orji," said a young Australian woman who'd suddenly burst into the room, "there is something outside I think you need to see."
Orji, Ressik, Niana, and I followed her out, a sense of dread washing over me as I looked out the window: pitch-black storm clouds filled the air as far as the eye could see, occasionally lit by a strange green glow that seemed to emanate from somewhere within.
"I'm too late," Ressik said, the panic evident in his voice. "In my visions, whatever caused the destruction started with this very scene!"
"Guys, you might want to see what's happening in the chamber," Mickey shouted from the room we'd just left, and as we went back in Ressik started asking, "What are you-" before stopping mid-sentence when he saw what was happening through the window.
The chamber was crawling with fairies, wraiths, Fenrir, and some other creatures I'd never seen before, but our attention was mainly drawn to the figure perched on the desk at the centre of the assembly, his long red cloak instantly recognisable. "Secretary, you wanted to know what kind of threat Feth'rael is?" I asked. "I fear you're about to get a first-hand demonstration."