Careless Wishes

by Amy Sumida

  She nodded.

  “Do you have any idea of how they got inside?” I asked.

  “We know how they got inside.” The Lady grimaced. “They came in through a tunnel.”

  “A tunnel?” Tiernan asked in surprise. “They dug their way through solid rock?”

  “They didn't have to.” Ladli sighed deeply. “There are escape tunnels here. They're meant for emergencies.”

  I glanced at Tiernan and we shared a grimace. We were familiar with the risk that escape tunnels pose. Both the Seelie Castle and the old Unseelie Castle had escape tunnels. I had used them—yes, both of them—to rescue imprisoned fairies and return those fairies to their proper courts. When Tiernan took the throne, he'd had the Seelie tunnels blocked off so he wouldn't have to worry about someone using them to get inside instead of out, as I had. Luckily, neither Craos-Teine, the new Unseelie Castle, or the Twilight Castle had such flaws in their security. But the Naga didn't seem to have gotten the memo.

  “Escape tunnels,” Killian murmured. “And there's one that leads to the Cintamani?”

  Ladli nodded. “It's the only treasure we hide—the very reason this sanctuary was built. When Buddha died, we were charged with protecting the Cintamani. So, of course, we took every precaution and made sure that we had a way to escape with the Cintamani if necessary.”

  “What does Buddha have to do with it?” I asked.

  “The Cintamani was made for Siddhārtha Gautama—a gift from the local Fey in honor of their friendship,” she explained. “They knew that he would use it properly—for enlightenment and the good of his race. But when the Buddha died, those same fairies immediately returned for the Cintamani and reclaimed it because they knew that no other human was worthy of owning it. They chose us to guard it and this place was built to make sure that no one could take it from us.”

  “I know that the Cintamani grants wishes, but can you tell us more about it?” I asked.

  “That is all the Cintamani does, Your Majesty, but wishes can be tricky things. I would rather face the Sluagh than have a wish fulfilled.”

  “That's a hell of a statement,” I murmured.

  “Be careful what you wish for?” Killian asked with a lifted brow.

  “Precisely,” she said. “The Buddha knew the danger of asking for something that could change his path.”

  “That would be the Noble Eightfold path?” I asked.

  “You're familiar with his teachings,” she said in pleased surprise.

  “A little.” I shrugged. “I'm in no way an expert.”

  “The Eightfold Path consists of the mastery of eight practices,” she went on. “The right view, resolve, speech, conduct, livelihood, effort, mindfulness, and samadhi—a state of meditative consciousness. It's about virtue, meditation, and insight but it's also about the middle way of moderation between the extremes of self-indulgence and self-mortification. That is why Buddha described it as the Middle Path. Buddha knew the importance of balance—he lived it—and that made the Cintamani safe with him and he with it. He did many great things with the pearl—helped many people achieve enlightenment.”

  “The pearl.” I smirked at Killian.

  “I never doubted you, Twilight,” Killian shot back.

  The Lady looked at me askance.

  “Anu gave me a vision of a pearl,” I answered her look.

  “Our daughter also had a vision of a man with a pearl who attacked me,” Killian added.

  “She saw the thief?” Ladli asked urgently. “Did you get a description of him?”

  I blinked. Way to go, Extinguisher. You've been off-duty so long that you can't even remember the first rules of investigating.

  “I did,” Killian said before I could answer in the negative. “But her memory of him is hazy. She said that he has fair skin, blond hair, and a medium build, but she couldn't recognize what type of fairy he is. He had no obvious racial traits.”

  I let out a sigh. Thank the Goddess one of us wasn't slacking.

  “So, it was likely a Sidhe,” Ladli murmured.

  “A moment, if you please.” Raza held up a clawed hand. He'd put his wings away for the journey but nothing else since, so far, we were only interacting with Fairies. “Before we get into a debate over the race of the thief, I have a few more questions about the Cintamani. You said that Buddha knew not to ask for something that would take him from his path. I assume you mean his destiny?”

  “Yes.”

  “What would happen if someone used the Cintamani incorrectly? If they went against their fate?”

  The Lady's face went grim. “The Cintamani is a sympathetic relic. It was made for the Buddha and so is very much like the man he was. It doesn't judge exactly but it functions better if it's asked to perform good deeds that promote enlightenment. Those types of wishes are granted to their full potential. However, if the request is evil or goes against the flow of fate, the wish will be tainted.”

  “Tainted?” Daxon asked.

  “It will be fulfilled, the Cintamani will never refuse a wish, but the ripples of its delivery would create an imbalance that the pearl would then seek to correct. If enough careless wishes are made, terrible things could happen.”

  “Such as?” Daxon persisted.

  “First, know that the fairies who created the Cintamani weren't completely foolhardy. They built certain fail-safes into the relic. It can't be used to kill or change free will nor can it bring the dead back to life.”

  “Thank Danu for that,” I muttered.

  My Uncle Uisdean had nearly destroyed Unseelie by bringing his wife back from the dead; the last thing I needed was for history to repeat itself.

  “That being said, if used incorrectly, it could lead to death or result in oppression, even if the wish itself wasn't for those things. In the wrong hands, the Cintamani could be manipulated. Anything is possible.”

  “Lady Ladli, please be clear with us,” Tiernan urged. “What exactly could happen if the Cintamani were used incorrectly?”

  Ladli sighed before she answered, “I don't know exactly, as it's never been used by anyone but Buddha. But I can offer theories.”

  “Please, do,” Raza prompted.

  “There would likely be a rebound of magic when the Cintamani tried to put things back into balance. This could negatively affect the user, especially mentally, making them erratic, insane, or suicidal. It could also affect the seasons, Nature, or even the Earth as a whole. Plants could die, animals sicken, plagues erupt—the possibilities are endless and all of them are terrible.”

  “Holy fuck balls,” Killian whispered.

  I tensed as another vision came into focus in my mind. I stood on a road bordered by forest. The earth started to shake, the vibration rumbling up my legs, through my feet. The rumble became audible. There were layers to it that quickly separated as whatever was making the sound drew closer. There was a bend in the road up ahead; the sound came from there. Then they appeared around that curve. The skies and trees and land was full of them. They ran toward me, fear rounding their eyes. Screeching roars, deafening squawks, and pathetic cries echoed in my ears as they approached. Seconds before the animals trampled me, I gasped my way out of the vision.

  “Seren?” Daxon asked anxiously as he grabbed my hand.

  “I'm okay,” I reassured him. “It was just another vision.”

  “What did you see?” Ladli leaned forward in her chair.

  “A stampede.” I shook my head. “It's not very helpful, beyond reaffirming that this is what Anu wants me to do.” I looked around at my husbands. “We need to find that pearl.”

  Tiernan shifted his concerned stare from me to Ladli. “So, if this thief uses the Cintamani for good, nothing will happen, but if he makes bad wishes, the Earth may pay the price?”

  “Do you really think that a thief will make good wishes?” Ladli countered. “Would Buddha have stolen anything?”

  Tiernan grimaced.

  “But I will say this,” Ladli went on, “even if
he believes he's doing good, he may not be. What he thinks is good could be evil to another man. That is why it was so important to hide the Cintamani and not simply find another enlightened human to entrust it to. You need to be truly impartial and spiritually wise to know how to use the Cintamani. Buddha once said 'The world is afflicted by death and decay. But the wise do not grieve, having realized the nature of the world.' He knew that even suffering has its place. It's part of the experience of life and without it, life stagnates.”

  “Didn't Buddha also say that the root of suffering is attachment?” Daxon asked.

  I widened my eyes at him.

  “I've lived on Earth for a very long time, Seren,” Dax chided me. “Far longer than you. And I happen to enjoy reading.”

  “Okay. Okay.” I held up my hands. “You don't have to get bent out of shape about it.” I chuckled. “I just didn't peg you for a guy who would read about Buddha.”

  “What you read is correct, King Daxon,” Ladli confirmed. “The Buddha did say that and it's more proof of how very unique he was. How do you live without forming an attachment to people or things? You cannot—you should not, in my opinion, for that would be a life half lived—and, therefore, suffering is both inevitable and natural.”

  “Mind blown,” Killian whispered.

  “Yes, he was very wise,” Ladli nodded at Kill. “And once the Buddha and his wisdom were gone, the fairies who created the Cintamani realized the mistake they'd made. As I said, very few people are able to see the difference between a good and bad wish—to see beyond the boundaries of their lives and look at the larger picture without fear or judgment or greed. The creators of the Cintamani knew that finding another person like the Buddha would be difficult, if not impossible. And even if they did find someone, it wouldn't be worth the risk of giving them the Cintamani. They couldn't allow anyone to use it, not even a fairy.” She made an unladylike sound, then added, “Especially not a fairy.”

  “Even the best of intentions can cause harm,” I concluded. “The line 'I never meant to hurt you' is used so often that it's practically a cliché.”

  “Yes, we mean good but cause evil. I believe that's destiny at work,” she mused. “Destiny is not static, it shifts like the tide. But some things are meant to be. They are rocks within the sea—stability in the flow. But if something powerful happened that jostled them, turned them around, or toppled them, it would affect us all. Look at yourself, Your Majesty,” she waved a hand at me. “Things that can be viewed as both good and evil have made you who you are. Your uncle failed to assassinate you, but he succeeded in killing your mother. You would doubtless think of one event as good and the other evil but they both resulted in something good. They led you to Twilight and made you a princess. That result was a rock in your sea—unchangeable no matter how destiny flowed. But if someone had used the Cintamani to protect your mother, that rock would have crumbled and with it would have gone the Fairy Realm's chance for peace. Thousands of lives would have been lost—lives with their own rocks in their own seas. They would have crumbled too and so on, compounding the cost of that single act against destiny. Fate is not a force but rather a magic like our beags. It seeks the best path and flows with the single goal of keeping its charges thriving. And, like all magic, if you disturb it, you will pay a price. You and possibly everyone else in existence.”

  “Then we look for signs of that price being paid,” I concluded. “We search the world for humans behaving strangely, perhaps a rise in crime or wealth. We look for disturbances in nature—the seas, the animals, and the plants. And maybe then we can find the pearl thief.”

  The Lady nodded. “It's a good start.”

  “Yeah, but first, I think we need to see the vault,” Killian declared.

  “There's one more thing before I show you the vault,” Ladli's voice went even more somber. “The Cintamani has another fail-safe that's very important. The fairies who made it wanted to be sure that no one could steal it from Siddhārtha.”

  “But it was just stolen,” Kill said in confusion.

  “It was stolen from us because it didn't belong to us. It wasn't claimed,” Ladli countered. “Once the Cintamani has been activated by someone making a wish, it bonds with that person and they become its master. That bond only ends with death.”

  “What if the user gives the Cintamani away willingly?” Daxon asked.

  “That won't work.” She shook her head. “The Fey didn't trust Buddha to keep the Cintamani for himself. He gave away so much, you see. No attachments.” She shrugged. “So, the magic won't allow the Cintamani to be given away, not even willingly. Take the pearl and it will return to its master. But kill the master, and the Cintamani is freed.”

  “So, I'm to be Anu's assassin,” I concluded grimly. “Again.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The vault was in the center of a maze of corridors beneath the Lady's palace. The maze was empty. No Nagas—guards or otherwise—patrolled there. Only the sound of our footsteps broke the silence, echoing softly off the stone walls. It was even more spartan there than in the entry hall, with only a few fairy lights to lead our way. We finally descended a flight of stairs that ended in a door—a warded door. The Lady laid her palm on the rough wood and the whole of it vanished. I made a soft sound of recognition; it reminded me of Castle Twilight's gate.

  We entered a circular room formed of pitch-black stone. A series of arches were carved into the continuous wall, their curves formed by the branches of apple trees while the trunks served as columns. Apple trees and their fruit are sacred to Danu and it was believed that an image of them made the Goddess more inclined to offer her protection. But Danu couldn't protect anyone on Earth, no matter how many apple trees they drew—as proven by the lack of a giant pearl in that room.

  A single pedestal stood in the center of the vault, made of the same stone as the rest of the room, with a black velvet pillow atop it. The pillow was dented as if something had sat upon it recently. Something spherical. I stepped toward the pillar, then stopped short. The air in the room felt charged like that before a storm. I stared at the walls suspiciously.

  “The stone is warded,” Ladli said to my look.

  “Another layer of protection,” I murmured.

  “Yes.”

  “Another layer that failed,” Killian muttered as he made a beeline for the pillar and picked up the pillow.

  Kill closed his eyes and went still. He has a talent for psychometry that he can use to find people or learn things about them. All he has to do is touch an object that they've touched and he can hear what they were thinking or feel what they were feeling when they had touched the object. But as Killian concentrated, his expression tightened until he grimaced, opened his eyes, and dropped the pillow back onto the pillar with an air of irritation.

  “I guess he didn't touch the pillow,” Killian muttered.

  “What were you trying to do?” Ladli asked him.

  “Get a read on the thief. See where he might be headed.”

  “Psychometry,” I explained.

  “Oh, yes. I forgot that you are part human,” Ladli said, then gave Kill an apologetic look. “Unfortunately, your gift won't be able to assist you in locating the Cintamani. The bond that prevents the pearl from being stolen extends to mental influence upon its master. It was meant to protect the Buddha from being fairy-struck and being forced to commit suicide, thus freeing the stone to be taken. You won't be able to connect with the thief's thoughts in any way.”

  “So, you're saying that my greatest tracking ability is useless with him?” Killian gaped at her.

  “I'm afraid so,” she said gently. “The only time you'll be able to sense the Cintamani is when it's being used. I'm told that the surge of magic it releases is significant.”

  “How many people know about the Naga Sanctuary?” I asked her, giving Kill time to get over it. “Specifically, it's location.”

  “I don't know. I'm sure it's location is recorded somewhere. If you were incl
ined to look for us, you could find us. But you wouldn't be able to find this.” She pushed at a space between two apple trees and a portion of the wall went back, then slid to the side. A tunnel waited beyond.

  Killian leaned into the passage, then ventured fully inside. “It's dark but clean.”

  The Lady stepped in after him and spoke a Fey word. Lanterns in the tunnel came to life. “We maintain it regularly. It lets out near the lake.”

  “Roopkund?” I asked.

  “Yes, but the exit is well hidden.”

  “Not well enough,” Daxon muttered.

  “There is a carving near the passage,” Ladli admitted. “If manipulated correctly, it will open the way and its twin sits here.” She indicated a portion of the wall inside the tunnel. “This carving will open the vault access. But you would have to know what you're looking for and then how to activate it.”