The Shattered Mirror (Winter's Blight Book 4)

by M. C. Aquila

  “I mean—” Deirdre smacked her palm against her forehead. “I didn’t mean to sound surprised. I’m just glad you’re safe! And, um… yes.” She used Water Magic to suck all the dew out of a patch of turf on the other side of the fire and plopped down onto it hard, staring at the flames in a daze.

  “You look like a truck ran you over,” Cai commented helpfully. When Deirdre just groaned low in reply, Cai turned to Iain and asked slyly, “I thought I heard there was something you couldn’t wait to tell her last night? Now’s your chance, champion.”

  Iain coughed and focused on pouring her a cup of tea, asking, “Where were you all night?”

  After taking a few sips, Deirdre inhaled the strong, slightly spicy scent of the black tea, then replied, “I thought of waiting, but I want to be ready to do whatever is necessary to pass this test of ours. So I convinced Lonan to stay out all night training because I knew you’d succeed. Roshan told me about it.” She beamed at him, then her smile disappeared. “He looked kind of sad. At first I thought something happened.”

  “But the king and queen approved, right?” Iain prompted.

  “Yes, but”—Deirdre bit her lip—“they kind of want me to figure it out, to come up with a way of delaying the army myself. They didn’t offer any suggestions or anything. I bet they’re mad.

  “Anyway, I thought all-night training would work—I was up all night when I first linked to my Shadow Magic, and Lonan said it could maybe work.” Deirdre yawned again. “But Lonan didn’t want to—he thought I couldn’t handle being out all night.” Taking a long sip, her eyelids closed, and she slowly tilted sideways.

  “And you wanted to prove him wrong,” Cai prompted loudly, jolting her back to reality.

  “Y-yes.” Deirdre straightened, looking him and Iain in the eyes. “But I really wanted to work while Iain was working. And I did learn some stuff. Not that it gives me any ideas on how to stop an army or anything…” She rubbed some weary tears from her eyes, continuing, “But still, thanks to last night, I can connect with all kinds of magic—except Light Magic.”

  “Are you hungry?” Iain asked as they pulled the food off the fire.

  “No. Yes.” She tilted her head up from her cup, suddenly ravenous. As she took the plate from Iain, she realized aloud, “This all wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t feel like Lonan doesn’t believe I can pass this test. But he’s wrong—I can and I will.”

  “Poor blighter. Now he has two rebellious daughters,” Cai commented in an undertone with a dry chuckle.

  Deirdre frowned at him. “I’m not rebellious.”

  “You said yourself you wanted to prove him wrong. And now you’re exhausted, even though you thought you’d be perfectly fine.”

  “All I want is him to give me a chance. I can do things right…” She trailed off, something clicking in her mind, and she looked around the campsite for James. “Where’s James? And where’s Kallista?”

  “Alvey came earlier and said her mother wanted to have breakfast with the two of them.” Iain smiled at her. “They’re really getting along, huh?”

  “That’s one way of saying it,” Cai commented, digging into his food. “According to a feathered friend of mine, they’re practically joined at the hip.”

  “James and Kallista are eating with Sybil…?” Deirdre gripped her plate as a sharp pang of anger hit her. She’ll eat with humans, strangers she doesn’t know, but she won’t even look at me…?

  She quickly turned to eating her food and tried to push the thought down as she hastily dashed upset tears from her eyes.

  “After that, Alvey said something about going to a library with James and Mum. Deirdre?” Iain waited until she looked up before continuing, “Did your father take you to the library yet?”

  Her mouth fell open, his words fully registering. “I didn’t know they even had one! Where is it?”

  “It didn’t sound like it was too far. It might help with getting ideas for the test. I can meet you there later.” Iain smiled at her steadily. “We’ll figure this out together. I promise.”

  Already she was nodding. “Yes—plus I can’t train anymore today. Lonan has duties for the Court, so… the library sounds good!” She smiled, though it faded slightly. “Alvey and James will be there too?”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” Cai looked at her with raised brows. “They’re both smart kids, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, but… I don’t think I fancy talking to James about magical warfare or any of that stuff.”

  “He’d probably have some good suggestions,” Iain said gently.

  “And Alvey may know a thing or two.” Cai grimaced. “I’d hate to have that girl plotting my doom, wouldn’t you? Besides, Kallista will be there to keep you lot in line.”

  “Right. I’ll go there after breakfast.” She looked at the two of them, asking Iain, “You said you’d come later?”

  “Unless Cai is willing to let me skip training,” Iain said, glancing at Cai, who was shaking his head as he secured his scabbard on his belt.

  “If you have anything to say to Deirdre right now, say it. You were so eager last night…”

  Deirdre snort-laughed as Cai shoved Iain back after he nudged him, leading to a string of banter between the two.

  They used to not get along at all, she reflected as she watched them, nursing her warm drink, her smile fading. If they can talk like this and be good after all that… maybe things can get better for me and James and Alvey? And maybe even…

  But she pushed the thought of her mother away forcefully, far from her mind, and resolved to not even think about her until it was all over.

  * * *

  Kallista had followed James and Alvey as they walked in the forest in the late morning. Alvey had been eager and smiling when she had come to visit their camp earlier to invite them to breakfast. “Mother is in a fine mood for company this morning,” the half elf said, turning her head toward James. “I think we shall find her quite well before we visit the library.”

  “That’s… that’s great, Alvey,” James had answered, beaming unabashedly. But the boy was slower to prepare for the day than normal, his movements restricted as he laced up his shoes and shrugged on his backpack. She knew what pain looked like.

  “Did you sleep oddly?” Kallista asked him, though it would be difficult to have a rough sleep on the faery hammocks. “I said you would get a sore neck if you kept falling asleep while reading, you goose.”

  James looked down. “Uh-huh.”

  While she walked behind the teenagers, Kallista’s worry threaded through her. She had quite a few conversations with Puck while she was serving as a thrall in the Master’s estate, but there was no way to prepare for a meeting with a Noble faery, especially since they all felt different. Puck’s ancientness had seeped into his unnervingly powerful presence, but because of that, he was far too old to bother. He rarely gave a fig about anything—he had reminded her a bit of her great grandfather in that way.

  I just hope Sybil won’t be using magic. Especially around the food! Jal went on and on about all the magic she flaunted the last time he was there.

  The moment they neared the gazebo in the sunny clearing in the woods, Kallista’s scalp prickled at the presence of the Noble faery inside, her body dotting with chills. Holding her head up, she followed the children into the space. Alvey and James seated themselves on pillows in front of the table.

  Sybil met her gaze with sharp, alert blue eyes, but her smile was welcoming as she beckoned Kallista to sit. Afterward, the faery placed a basket of pristine yellow pears and fresh, warm bread on the table.

  “Thank you for inviting us to join you, Sybil,” Kallista said once they were breakfasting. “It means a lot to be welcomed here. My son was looking forward to joining you again.”

  The faery nodded, her golden hair floating about her face, and said in an easy tone, “’Tis no trouble. I was eager to meet the mother of the boy courting my dear Alvey. I imagine you felt the same.”


  Kallista stiffened in her seat as she processed the words. Beside her, James choked on the bite of pear he was eating; Alvey patted the boy’s back with excessive force, making him wince.

  Kallista said in a pointed tone, “Jal did not mention to me that he and Alvey were… dating. How long has this been going on?”

  “Oh, I suppose when they had their first kiss a few sunrises ago.”

  Bristling, Kallista whipped her head to the two teenagers for confirmation. Alvey’s blushing face and James’s averted gaze and fidgety hands told her everything.

  Under her breath, Kallista muttered, “Pah! Cannot one of my sons be interested in a nice Romani girl? Or a human girl at least—”

  Sybil cleared her throat politely, and Kallista shut her mouth, realizing she was talking aloud to herself. “Pardon my ignorance of human nature and expression,” the Noble faery said, frowning, “but it sounds as if you are… upset by this courtship. I think you ought to be thankful. Alvey is a wonderful, beautiful girl with a brilliant mind. Any human boy would be thrilled to court her.”

  “Mother!” Alvey dug her fingers into the wood, hissing across the table at her like a cat.

  Raising her eyebrows, Kallista countered, “Well, Jal is a good, handsome boy. He is clever and a diligent student, and he has a very bright future ahead of him. Any girl, human or faery, would be fortunate to date him.”

  After wiping pear juice from his mouth, James hid his face behind his napkin.

  Sitting up straight, Kallista continued, “I am not upset by the match, exactly. I just do not believe now is the time for dating. It should be the time for… for growing and focusing on who they want to be first, yes? A lot can change for them during these years of their life.”

  Sybil regarded her with scrutiny before her posture slackened and a smile returned to her face again as she agreed.

  Feeling encouraged, Kallista decided to carefully broach another subject. “Sybil, I care for Alvey, deeply. You see, when she was an infant, my dear friend Marko and I were the nurses who delivered young Alvey to Puck. To save her life.”

  The faery clasped her hands together, halting as she stooped to clear the basket from the table. Her expression flickered with confusion for a moment, like a cloud shadowing her, before she recovered. “Yes… yes, I think I remember that. Lonan told me this information, did he not, Alvey?”

  “Yes, Mother,” the half elf said, her blond hair shielding her face.

  James, after whispering with Alvey, leaned forward in his seat to give Kallista a concerned look, and he whispered, “Mum, maybe you shouldn’t…”

  She patted his hand in assurance, then continued, “That same night when I aided little Alvey, I also delivered your daughter Deirdre, alive, to the orphanage where she would grow up. She was a sweet, precious ginger infant. Puck said she was named after Deirdre of Sorrows, a tragic figure.”

  Sybil had picked up the basket, which she now almost cradled against her chest as she walked to the nearby counter. She looked into it with glazed, distant eyes at the mention of her lost little girl, like she was staring at an empty bassinet. Her sorrow was tangible, and Kallista’s heart clenched. Still, she knew she had to press further for Deirdre’s sake.

  “Sybil, as someone who has spent time with both Deirdres, the infant and the young, very real faery girl who traveled all this way to find her family, I would give this Deirdre a fair chance. One Deirdre leaving this realm full of sorrow is enough. It will be two tragic tales if you deny this one her chance.”

  “My Deirdre? My Deirdre is gone,” came the woman’s faint but uncertain reply as she lowered the basket onto the counter, her mouth quivering. Eventually her lips formed a hard line. But there was a flicker of doubt there.

  Alvey, who could not see the look on her mother’s face, was scowling in Kallista’s direction, her fists clenched and trembling on the armrests of her chair.

  After a moment of silence, Sybil swiftly used a gust of Wind Magic to clear the rest of the table. Then she said airily, as if the conversation had not happened, “I thank you for joining us this morning. Alvey tells me you will be exploring the library today—I hope it will not bore you.”

  * * *

  The library was near the entrance to the realm, in an area where Flora Magic had created strong, tall redwood trees with clusters of branches at the top. The structure consisted of six wooden tree houses connected by rope bridges between a grove of twelve massive trees in the center of the redwood forest. Each tree house was shaped similar to a Viking longship, curved into a boat shape at the ends, but was covered with a roof and walls with wide, open windows to let light in. The wood was smooth and a rich, dark crimson, carved with intricate knots wrapping around images of animals, faeries, and plant life.

  From his vantage point on the ground, James could see stacks and stacks of worn old books peeking through the openings in the tree houses. As he stared in pure wonderment at the structures high above him, he said, a little melancholy, “I don’t think I could read every book here. Not even if, uh, I stayed in this realm for a lifetime.”

  Mum chuckled. “Well, we will make the most of the time you do have, yes? Now, how do we get up there?”

  There were many ways to reach the libraries—wooden ladders, rungs of hard, stable fungus clinging to the trees like steps, and a swing-like pulley system that could lift a person upward. Alvey made her way over to the pulley system, scooting out of her chair and into the seat provided, where she easily hoisted herself to the entrance of the tree house using the rope as leverage.

  James chose the ladder, which looked like the sturdiest way up, and Mum followed behind him. The climb was a little slow, and Alvey kept sighing at the top and asking how much longer it would take. But whenever James got frustrated and pushed himself to climb faster, he inevitably had to stop to catch his breath as pain rattled through his chest.

  After the incident with the Flora Magic yesterday, once Cecil’s scrying spell had faded, James had rested on his back in the clearing for a while, trying to gather the strength to stand up. When he’d finally rolled over onto his side, it had felt as if his ribs were broken. He’d cautiously lifted his sweater to inspect his torso to find his flesh was completely darkened with bruises from the magic he had tried to absorb. The magic that had almost killed him.

  But he did not blame the magic, or Cecil, for what had happened. James knew it had been his fault—he’d tried to absorb too much at once. But there was an even more logical explanation to why the magic had tried to destroy him: the magic was defending itself because he wasn’t listening to it or what it wanted.

  I guess Deirdre was trying to tell me that… in her own confusing, nonsensical way.

  The boat-shaped libraries were tall enough for a Noble faery to stand comfortably in and wide enough for only around four to be seated among the books. In place of chairs, there was an array of cloth or moss pillows to sit on. James climbed inside and picked up books, but there was no discernable order to how the stacks were arranged.

  A familiar ginger faery was sprawled sleeping behind a stack of books on the floor. Deirdre had apparently come to the library, picked up one book, and instantly fallen asleep. Now she was drooling on the mossy pillow beside her face.

  “Seriously?” James scoffed. As he backed up instinctively, turning to shush Alvey and Mum, his elbow knocked against one of the wobbling book towers. Fumbling, he managed to steady it before the books crashed to the floor.

  But Deirdre woke up anyway. With a jolt, the faery sat up, clutching at her heart. She whipped her head around in all directions, spotting James, then Alvey and Mum. She blinked, half-awake.

  “Good morning, Deirdre,” Mum said, raising her voice and side-eyeing James, giving him a pointed look that told him to be polite. “We just came from breakfast, and now my son and Alvey have dragged me here to read with them. We did not mean to… interrupt you.”

  Standing, Deirdre clasped her hands behind her back and blew a strand of hair f
rom her face. Her words came out oddly shy and controlled as she said, “Oh, it’s fine. I was just… studying. And you’re here too. Studying.” The faery looked at James, smiling faintly. “What have you and Alvey been up to? Have you explored all kinds of neat places in the realm?”

  James looked down, not knowing how to react or what she was even doing here. Or why she was trying to be friendly.

  There was a loud thwack as Alvey tossed a book heavily onto a pile, scattering dust. “Some places, yes,” she said shortly, crossing her arms.

  After a brief, awkward silence James asked, unable to ignore his curiosity, “So, uh, what are you studying? Ma—?” He broke off, sucking in his lips as he remembered how irritated she was the last time he mentioned magic. “M-magma?” he finished lamely.

  In reply, Deirdre immediately launched into an explanation of the test Titania and Oberon had created for her, how she had rejected it, and about Iain’s success on the Wild Hunt. She gestured wildly as she spoke, nearly knocking a stack of books over as well. “Anyway, I need to come up with a way to use my magic to help with the army coming, to help deal with them.”

  Alvey was stunned enough to abandon her cold silence. “I cannot believe they would give you such a task. You are no warrior, and now you shall be tested on the battlefield? ’Tis almost unfair!”

  For a moment Deirdre’s smile flickered, and she wrung her hands. “Well, I actually don’t think I will be present in the battle. Plus I chose it myself. I just don’t know where to begin.” Then, stepping toward James, she asked, “Have you ever read anything much about, er, battle strategy or anything like that?”

  Thinking hard, he ran his fingers over the frayed cover of one of the books beside him. “Not much,” he admitted. “But, um, I know about using the area to your advantage.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Like, um”—he scratched behind his ear—“if there is muddy ground, you’d force the enemy to pass through it to slow them down. Or, if you have cavalry or trucks and they don’t, you’d meet them in a place where that would give you an advantage.”