“I showed Traflier how he could connect to the life force of the landscape around him. I had no idea how he would twist the concept. I wanted to show him how he could heal a dying plant, how he could make the crops grow stronger, more fruitful. However, it was not long before he discovered he could flip the connection, draining all of the life force from the plants. He started with single blades of grass, and before I knew it he had desecrated the entire landscape Baldea now sits upon.”
“Traflier turned the land sour!” I gasped.
“And I gave him the knowledge to do it.”
Mortimer wrung his hands together. “I was horrified at what he was doing to the land I’d helped create. When I discovered what it was he was doing, I stopped conversing with him. But the damage was already done. I continued to watch, to hope he would change his ways, use the knowledge for good, to heal, to help. Then he did something I didn’t even know was possible: he took the life force from a young man.
The man faded in front of me before his essence lifted into the heavens. Traflier now had a completely new pool to pick from. I was disgusted with what I had allowed to happen and so I left, vowing never to interact with this world again.”
“But you did, you wrote those spells. You left that book for me to find, for only me to read. How did you know I would find it, and use it the way you intended?”
“I knew you were coming. We angels are privy to many things. I may not have seen what would happen if I gave Traflier insight into the workings of the world, but I did see how you would come about, how you would need my help, and so I am here, yet again to try to fix what I have done.”
“Okay, so what is Mortimer’s dream?”
His odd eyes became slits as he smiled wide, his waxy skin shimmering as if reacting to the emotion, “you can control more than you know,” Mortimer said as he stood from the purple velvet chair. “The blood of angels flows through your veins. When you died…”
“Wait, what?” I interrupted.
“Desmoree, you do know that you died, don’t you? The Dazerarthro. It killed you. It broke your neck.”
“But…”
“It doesn’t matter now,” he said waving a dismissive hand. “When it happened, your light, your goodness, and your already otherworldly existence allowed for us to make you… more. Now you are a mix of us all.”
“Like I wasn’t weird enough. So now I’m a zombie mongrel mutt of the fairy world?”
Frey interjected, “hardly, Desmoree, you are… you. That is all you are. Not a Stalisies, a Tanzieth, an Oley, or an Angel. You are,” she said, shrugging, “Desmoree.”
I took a deep breath and thought about what Frey was saying. It was similar to the words I would have heard from my mother, she was incredibly big on me just being me. She never thought that it was a good thing to be able to dye your hair, change your skin color, or alter even the color of your eyes. In that moment I wanted my mother, to hold her, for her to make me feel safe. And of course in an instant she was there.
“Mum,” I groaned as I squeezed her tight.
Mortimer stood silent, as did Frey.
“I’ve been watching you,” she said as I finally released her from my steely grip.
“Mum, I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t even know what I am anymore.”
“You are who you are,” she said as she ran the back of her hand down my cheek. “You have always been special. Not because of your blood, or your parents, but because of who you are. You have a love inside you that shines just as brightly now as it did the day you were born. Maybe even brighter since you met Jax.”
I smiled at the mention of Jax. He certainly was the best thing to come out of this, next to discovering I could talk to my dead mother and meeting my father.
“Excuse me,” Mortimer interrupted. “There is actually a lot we have to do. Would you be partial to listening now, rather than doting on your daughter?” His words brought me back.
“Hey, watch it, that’s my mum.”
“No, Desmoree, he’s right. We need to listen. We need to know how we can stop Traflier.” I sat beside my mother on the end of my father’s bed, both of us waiting for him to continue.
“Mortimer’s dream is a spell that can undo some of what Traflier has done, because it connects to me. I cannot perform it, but I can make it happen if someone strong enough casts the spell. All of the Tanzieth will be healed of Traflier’s effects on them, past and present. They will be restored to what they should have always been, and their true Fey abilities will return.”
My mouth hung open.
Traflier is the reason the Tanzieth couldn’t fly, couldn’t cast. And all but Jax and Marcus couldn’t cast either?
“Why didn’t he drain the Tanzieth completely? Why only take their abilities?” I asked.
“The Tanzieth are tied to both humanity and the otherworld. Traflier figured out how to take their otherworldly life force, but a human’s life force is tied into their relationships, the people they meet, interact with, and love. He never could figure out how to take that kind of power away from them. I was thankful for that.”
“But they can still do some magics?”
“Even humans can call on the magics, though the strength of their effect is minimal compared to what it would be if a Fey called the same cast. It is all about the power calling on us. The stronger the being, the less we can withstand.”
“So if I do the spell, all the Tanzieth will be healed, just like that.” I snapped my fingers for effect. He scrunched up the left side of his mouth and raised his brow.
“What I mean is, will it be instant?” I clarified.
“Do the spell, Desmoree. Trust in the magics, as you call them.”
“I’ll need a few things,” I said, reaching beside the bed and pulling the book from the bag we brought with us. I laid out what I had on the soft comforter. Most of what I needed I had brought with me, but there were a few items on his list I didn’t yet have.
“We will return when you need us,” Frey said taking my mother’s hand.
“We will look for any way to help,” mum said then they both disappeared.
“I’ll show you where you can gather the rest.” Mortimer reached around me to put the other objects back into my bag, and then passed the book to me. The cover glistened as it left his hands, a shimmer danced across the embossed bird, almost reaching out towards him. I felt a buzz in the air around us, my energy, my magic, it was almost excited as I followed him out of my father’s room.
The house sat oddly silent, only a distant rumble of what I presumed was my father preparing something to eat in the kitchen could be heard down the vast corridors.
“Come along, we do not have much time.” Mortimer continued through the hall and ducked into a room on the left. I rushed to follow him and stumbled as I entered the room my hands slapped down on the stainless steel surface of a small square trolley. It reverberated a familiar gong as both it and I continued to roll into the space.
“Careful,” Mortimer said, grabbing the other side of the trolley. I took a steadying breath, confused by the antique lab space in front of me. Beakers and test tubes sat atop a plain white table centered in the large room, their contents various colors and viscosities. Behind the table, the far wall held shelf after shelf of lidded jars, faded labels hand-penned on each one. Mortimer hurried from shelf to table, over and over, collecting jars and bits and bobs.
“Come, come. This is all you should need. Get out the book, with the items you have, you can do it here. It will be the beginning, you will see.” Mortimer’s excitement shone through.
“Can we do it somewhere else? This lab is kind of creeping me out.”
“Where to then?”
“The kitchen, I think, if my father is done in there.” The kitchen had always been my sanctuary, my mother and I had spent hours in the kitchen back home.
“Very well, let’s go see what mess Maxvillious has made. We may not have a clean bench to use in there after
he has been at it.”
I laughed. following him back down the hall to the kitchen. Max was gone, but remnants of his visit remained. An open loaf of bread, a butter knife covered in mustard.
The counter tops edged three walls and were a grey-flecked black marble. A massive cooktop sat pride of place in the center of the room, surrounded by more marble to create a cooking island. To the left of the door, a double doorway led to a chef’s dream pantry. Inside, floor to ceiling shelves stocked with baskets of unusual fruit and…
“Wagon Wheels! You have Wagon Wheels?” I took one, opened it and ate hungrily. It had been forever since I’d tasted chocolate.
Almost as good as coffee, oooh where did I put that coffee.
“Desmoree, there are much more important factors than your stomach right now.”
“Mmmhhmpf nope,” I dejected. There was nothing more important to me than that Wagon Wheel in that moment. I reached up to the topmost shelf and withdrew a large steel pot, shoving a second Wagon Wheel into my mouth as I came back to the island where Mortimer waited.
I pulled out the book and all the items we would need while the pot began to sizzle. Scoffing down a third and then a fourth Wagon Wheel, I followed Mortimer’s instruction with little to no interjections about the foul cloud of stench that wafted from the pot and seemed to surround only me. It didn’t take as long as I had feared it would, and after I threw in the last ingredient and swallowed the final bite of Wagon Wheel number five, I thought about the words, saying them only in my mind for now. I had to say it right, it had to be perfect.
Reditum, lux, reditum potestatem, Tanzieth fata incantare.
Mortimer watched on, directing how best to cut the fallax root and the proper pronunciation for “narkette sap”, of course protesting my dietary choices along the way. I let go of the childish frustration, the same frustration and anger that usually stirred inside of me whenever someone older spouted instruction.
I must be getting soft.
I waited for the smoke to turn orange and then leaned over the pot and took an entire breath of the foul mist. As I let it out, the bitterness wafting back over my lips, I let the words roll out with it. “Reditum, lux, reditum potestatem, Tanzieth fata incantare.”
A rush swam up from my feet to my head. Mortimer smiled wide, his dark eyes closing as he stretched his fingers out wide at his sides and a white energy extended from his fingertips until it engulphed him entirely.
Exhausted, I closed my eyes as my head spun and my legs gave out beneath me. It was only an instant before my usual energy returned and my eyes shot open, but it was long enough for me to be face down on the floor—or at least I should have been. Instead I was suspended, my nose an inch from the tile, held up by the scent of dandielillies.
I turned in his arms, gazed into his green whirlpools and then pulled him close. Over his shoulder, I watched my mother flash in front of us but then disappear just as quickly. I was about to call her back when my father burst into the room.
He stood only a few steps into the doorway, taking in Mortimer, then he looked at me. A huge grin spread across his face. He lifted his arms up on either side and levitated ten inches above the floor, his smile only widening. He resembled a child who had just figured out how to reach the cookie jar. I couldn’t help but giggle.
The stolen abilities had returned to all of the Tanzieth. Mortimer said it could weaken Traflier, but I could still feel his puppet minions bombarding my barrier with a continued force, so I wasn’t convinced.
I went to one of the upper windows so that I could see out across Baldea as the Tanzieth explored their newfound abilities. Children rushed through the meadows, soaring into the air as their parents joined the fun, chasing them into the sky and pulling them back down to the ground, away from the barrier I managed to hold in place still. A few reached it and bounced off it as if the sky itself had become an invisible trampoline. It was hard for me to see them all enjoying their newfound abilities because I knew what they would face soon enough, but on the flip side, it seemed to give them hope.
Mortimer decided that it would be best if I studied with him to uncover more of my own abilities, and he had me call upon my mother, Moyeth, and Phoneas to assist in training the Tanzieth in preparation for battle.
It had been two days since I’d first expanded my protective bubble over Baldea, and Traflier was getting more persistent with his attacks. He was testing its stability from every angle. Nothing had breached it yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time.
I woke the next morning to the sound of a bluebird outside my window.
Great, what now. “Frey” I called, beckoning her to speak with me.
She appeared, stunning as always.
“Can I do that?” I said, climbing out of bed. “Can I turn into a bluebird, too?”
“You could, yes. Would you like me to show you how?” She held out her hands.
“Umm, no. That’s fine. Knowing my luck I won’t be able to change back and I’ll be stuck eating bugs for the rest of my life.”
She smiled, but only with her mouth. Her eyes remained distant, dull.
“Is something wrong?” I asked. Granted, we were preparing to battle my great-great grandfather who controlled an army of Stalisies all working from one mind. But I knew there was something else.
“The essence wants to help you. They wish to take an individual each and train them. The Tanzieth will learn so much faster this way.”
“That’s great news! Isn’t it?”
She frowned. “By the time the essence train the Tanzieth and the battle begins, they will have exhausted all of their ties to this world. They will not be able to come back. Even your mother.”
Her last words stung. I had gotten so used to having Mum around again that the idea of her not being there seemed like a brand new death.
“They will still be watching, but you won’t be able to communicate with them. They know that this is what will happen if they come, if they stay for so long. But they want to help, to be sure you all are ready.”
I didn’t know what to say. First I was going to have to explain to the Tanzieth that the beings they once knew and loved could walk among them, could help them train for our upcoming battle. And then, after they had reconnected with their loved ones, they would disappear forever.
I told Max first, thankfully he took care of telling everyone else. A true leader, he never faltered, even when he caught his first glace of my mother.
We were out training by the fountain the following morning, and Mortimer had me creating energy balls beneath the surface of the water. That way-when they exploded-it created a shower of water rather than destroying part of my father’s house.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as my mother and father stared at each other for a full minute before one of my explosions broke their concentration. Max smiled at her but it didn’t reach his eyes, before leaving without a word to train with his guard.
“I’m just going to find Moyeth,” my mother then told me—he was training a variety of Tanzieth, helping the other essence in explaining battle strategy and field formation.
Phoneas had a knack for metal manipulation and so put her skills to use in the armoury. They created arkreed arrows for their crossbows that splintered into the air, akin to porcupine needles bursting out. She also showed them how to cast a spell to sharpen a slate stone into blades and swords that magically fastened in stone hilts. Even Moyeth seemed impressed by her ingenuity.
I had the gun my mother had left Moyeth, who had then passed it on to me, but my elephant cannon was not a typical gun Its bullets were filled with Narraneesis dust, a potent spice that can paralyze someone from five seconds to a minute depending on its inhalation. Moyeth came up with the idea to fill orbs with the dust and fire it from cannons to slow the assault.
We spent every waking moment training. By the sixth day, the Tanzieth could fly as well as hawks hunting their prey, and could project white spirals of light from their f
ingers that would hopefully stun and slow the destructive force behind the Stalisies black lightning. They practiced in yards by the side of the house, Mortimer and Marcus had set up a training game where Marcus’s orbs moved up and down the wall for them to practice hitting moving targets. The wall needed to be shielded so as to not fall apart when they missed and a version of my yellow bubble was cast across it by a few of the older Tanzieth.
My abilities had grown too, I could twist the trees to my will, fire white light that could disintegrate a chunk of rock from a cliff wall, and I could see glimpses of the future. Nothing too descriptive, mostly single images: a young boy tripping, a nest of birds plummeting to the ground, Jax grabbing me from behind, pulling me into a swirling embrace. I’d been able to stop the baby birds from plummeting to their death, but I’d missed the boy tripping. His mother had gently reminded him that if he’d have let his instincts take over, he would have saved himself with his new ability to fly.
I practiced mostly with Mortimer, but there were casts I knew he would not show me and so I often took walks to try them on my own. Taking energy was something I knew Mortimer would disapprove of, but I was not keeping the energy. I’d draw it out of plants and trees, as much as I could before it would die completely, and then I’d push it all back in and more, thanking it for its help in the process.
I had found a connection to the landscape I never would have imagined—Jax said it was my inner Tanzieth trying to escape. I knew it to be more. I knew that with every internal spell I cast, every angel I called upon for energy, protection, or hope, was becoming connected to me. When I released their influence after a cast, the feeling that they were around remained.
Enchanting the Fey- The Complete Series Page 19