Van’s heart awakened and felt as if it had begun pumping blood for the first time. The feeling both scared and excited her.
She couldn’t tear her gaze from the boy and, at that moment, she realized her life had been broken into two parts. Before she laid eyes on him, and after.
The sensations in her body caused her to ache, and yet, she felt full of hope.
That hope vanished as she recognized the red and gold insignia on the chest of the boy’s uniform—of course, the crest of a royal Balish officer.
Daisy gasped. “It’s Prince Ferox.”
Chapter 21
Van continued to gape at Prince Ferox as he spoke to the fairy.
A hurricane of feelings swirled inside her. Van squelched them and got to work.
Ignoring the voices and noises around her, she attempted to connect to Ferox’s energy. She used her mind’s eye to peer into his soul, to see if he had a dark thread like his sister. If he did, Van would have to take care of it. But how? Kill him?
If he became corrupted like his sister, it would be Van’s only option. He would come for Van, to take away her light, and she would be forced to defend herself. She already knew how she would do it. Use the Coin. Just like she did with Solana.
It would count as another incorrect use, but she would accept more damage to her soul if it meant protecting her people. She braced against the sick feeling in her stomach—abusing the power of the Coin would take her one step closer to darkness and insanity. Van resolved to work harder to build her inner strength by getting rid of her emotions. This would help her resist the downside.
Being so preoccupied with Ferox, she hadn’t noticed the royal Balish soldiers and the raven-haired man who accompanied him. With all this action, she couldn’t find enough inner peace to connect to her energy, and therefore, couldn’t confidently determine if Ferox had a dark thread in his soul.
The raven-haired man had a stylish goatee and wore an elegant purple and gold robe. He pointed his index finger at the fairy spike and murmured words that Van couldn’t fully hear. With a crack, the spike popped from the ground.
He’s the wizard. Van stared, in awe of his powers.
The fairy stopped wailing.
Ferox unclasped the manacle from around her ankle, freeing the fairy.
As expected, she didn’t fly away.
She fluttered around Ferox batting her eyelashes and making musical cooing sounds.
Why doesn’t she give him a tear and leave?
The fairy ran her fingers over Ferox’s cheek and spoke to him in her indecipherable squeaky fairy language.
Van fumed. Get on with it. She resisted the urge to dash from the brush and shoo the fairy away from him.
“Who did this to you?” Ferox asked.
She responded in her language.
The wizard translated. “She says—a sweetness. A young blond girl. A…sweet young blond girl.”
“If you saw her again, would you be able to identify her?” Ferox asked.
The fairy peeped and cooed.
“She says the girl looks like sugar sweetness,” the wizard said, lacking patience. He sighed. “The fairy wants to stay and play with you.”
The fairy danced around Ferox, sprinkling shiny silver and gold dust on his head and giggling.
“We’ll get nothing from her.” The wizard flapped his hands at the fairy. “Stop bothering the prince. Shoo.”
The fairy glared at the wizard as she dodged his hands. She hovered, high enough to be out of the wizard’s reach, and lovingly stared at Ferox. She raised her palm to her face. From the corner of her eye came a single drop.
The tear landed on her palm. It formed a sparkling crystal that when caught by the light of the candles, shamelessly flickered every brilliant color of the rainbow.
She brought the tear-shaped crystal to her lips and blew a kiss. The fairy’s tear soared through the air to Ferox.
He easily caught it with one hand.
Van noted—sure the others did too—that Ferox tucked the fairy’s tear into a satchel he wore dangling from his belt.
In the blink of an eye, the fairy was gone.
“Take everything,” Ferox said. “Leave the forest clean as if no one was ever here.”
Some of the soldiers blew out the candles and stashed away all the fairy’s presents.
Kopius shifted his body as if he were about to make a move.
“No.” Pernilla placed a gentle hand on Kopius’s arm. “Not yet. You’ll get us all killed.”
Kopius settled down.
Once the clearing had no trace of trash, Prince Ferox and his crew meandered back into the woods in the direction they came.
Van and her team covertly followed them.
When it became clear that Ferox and his squadron were headed back to the wharf area, Brux spread his arms and stopped the team.
“Let’s hang back,” he whispered. “The prince is famous. We’ll be able to find him again.”
“You better hope so,” Van said, stressing over the time constraint. Or, was it that she dreaded never seeing him again? Van shook her head. If she wanted to see him again, it was to check his soul for a dark thread, nothing more.
“We need to figure out how we’re going to get that satchel,” Brux said in a low voice, despite the squadron having moved out of earshot.
Brux made a good point. Van saw their plan as ill-fated now that Prince Ferox had the fairy’s tear. Undeniably the most guarded Balish royal in all the Living World and one of them would have to avoid his soldiers and a palace wizard to get the satchel.
The team unanimously decided there was no way marketeer’s scouts from Hod would get close enough to the prince to lift the tear. They debated if it was even worth the risk of being caught as Lodians out of bounds.
“We can go to Cortica without the tear,” Pernilla suggested. “Use our strength and wits to get by.”
“Or we could end up dead,” Van said.
“You’re such a little wuss.” Pernilla glowered. “Pathetic.”
Van opened her mouth to retort when Daisy interrupted.
“Stop.” Her airy voice gave light to the darkness of their situation. “We work together. As a team. Not against each other.”
Daisy was right. Van felt her cheeks flush, glad the shadows of night hid her embarrassment.
The group voted and decided to head back to Fisherman’s Rest, get some food, and figure out their next steps.
Back in the stuffy eatery, Van crammed several fried coral-flower puffs into her mouth. She washed them down with a mug of mead and then ordered another. Van quietly finished her meal while her teammates chattered about alternative plans. The dinner, dim eatery, long day, and the mead caused Van’s eyelids to droop.
“I need some air.” She jumped from her stool at the bar.
Brux caught her by the arm. “It’s not safe.”
“Really? I think I’ll be okay.” Van pulled away from him. “I’m just going to sit on the porch steps.”
“Fine,” he said and turned back to finish his seared deepwater stingray.
Van figured the failure of the fairy plan was leaving him feeling defeated. He looked like he didn’t have it in him to fight and didn’t protest again when she headed toward the exit.
Her teammates sat slumped on their stools, in bad moods. Even Kopius realized an attempt at Ferox would be futile. They picked at their food, except for Daisy, who didn’t eat at all.
Van walked down the porch steps of the Fishermen’s Rest, soaking-in the refreshing rush of the cool night air.
She knew that without the fairy tear it would take longer to complete their mission and be more dangerous. If they had the tear, they could have exchanged it on Cortica for a guarantee of safe passage to the Bottomless Sea.
Van rubbed her belly. She felt bloated, and her stomach ached from overeating. She raised the back of her hand to cover her mouth as she burped.
Ahh, that feels better.
As she
walked along the dimly lit dirt road, her head started to throb. She rubbed her temples to dull the pain.
I seriously need to talk to Jacynthia. I could use her advice. Where’s Wiglaf? He could point us in the right direction.
People milled about on the streets, minding their own business, probably up to no good and not wanting any trouble. Van wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation, so she was glad no one bothered her.
As she meandered closer to the docks, fog from the ocean enveloped her. Cold drops of moisture sprinkled her skin. She sat on a bench, away from the main road but not quite on one of the docks and reached into her pocket for the Coin.
She glanced left and right to make sure no-one lurked nearby, then held the Coin in her palm for a consultation.
“Show me the best path to reach the second seal.”
The Coin turned in her palm, the triangle pointed to Van.
“Show me the best path to remove the Anchoress curse.”
The Coin shimmied and, again, pointed to Van.
“Ugh.” She snapped her fingers closed. “I hate it when it does that.”
Van tucked the Coin back into her pocket. She lifted her knees and crossed her legs into the lotus position.
She breathed deeply until her mind filled with the familiar amaranthine glow of her spirit guide.
Why doesn’t anything ever go right? Van asked Jacynthia without using words. We had a perfect plan. I used my thoughts to focus on a positive outcome, but our plan still failed.
“You can never manifest anything without feeling,” Jacynthia said. “It is why emotions easily overcome intellect and why we must put feeling into our thoughts if we wish results. When you become emotionally numb, you block the Creator from resolving difficulties in your favor.”
I have feelings, Van said, defensively. I’m angry all the time. I’m also hungry, is that a feeling? What does that have to do with my mission? Without the fairy’s tear to give us credibility among the thieves, going to Cortica will be more dangerous than ever. I’m wondering—should we cut our losses and head back? If we stay and attempt to mend the seal, we could all die. How would that help anyone?
“Wanting a thing to happen before it is ready to happen exposes us to the danger of doubt and may cause us to depart from our path. Troubled times are drawing near. Dangerous situations cannot be avoided.” Jacynthia paused, and then said, “I advise you to be strong and unwavering in your quest. Flow like water through difficult situations by staying true to what is pure and innocent within yourself. This is how to escape danger and reach a place of peace.”
I’ll never accomplish anything by flowing like water.
“Do not to fall into the trap of searching for an immediate and easy solution to your troubles. You must accept the situation. Do not act out of a desire to escape the circumstances or you will fall into an abysmal pit.”
A hand roughly gripped Van’s shoulder, snapping her mind back to the physical plane.
Her eyes shot open.
The most handsome boy she had ever seen stood before her, again.
“You are under arrest for perpetrating the heinous crime of fairy trading,” Prince Ferox said.
Chapter 22
Prince Ferox ordered his soldiers to tie Van’s wrists together. Passersby glanced at them and scurried away, as they escorted her back to the main road.
They led Van to into a stacked duplex that was guarded by a handful of Ferox’s soldiers. She squirmed when the soldiers shoved her toward the stairway to the basement.
One of the soldiers tightened his grip and pushed Van back away from the doorway before she could enter.
Van looked at him, confused.
Then, Ferox zipped past and bounded down the stairs along with the soldier carrying the bag containing the fairy’s presents.
The soldier clutching Van grunted and nudged her down the stairwell.
Instead of letting fear overwhelm her, Van decided to use this as an opportunity to get closer to Ferox—for no other reason than to get the fairy’s tear. At least, that’s what she told herself.
Van complied without a struggle. She descended the stairs and coughed from the dustiness of the low-ceiling basement. Wisps of cobwebs hung from the rafters, there were no windows, and the walls were made of peeling, discolored plaster. Gold candles—ones they had confiscated from the fairy ring—had been placed around the room by the soldier who carried them, giving enough light to see in the dim basement.
Another soldier began patting her down.
Van felt a rush of anxiety. The Coin!
He didn’t seem interested in touching her too intimately, probably only looking for sharp objects like weapons and missed the small Coin tucked in one of her many pockets.
Two of the soldiers forced Van onto a solitary wooden chair in the center of the basement. Each kept a hand on her shoulder, presumably so she wouldn’t rise from the chair and attack five plus soldiers, a wizard, and the Balish prince.
Van assumed there weren’t any official law-and-order buildings on the Skeleton Coast, and that Ferox had rented the entire dwelling for privacy, security, and so he could use the basement as a makeshift interrogation room.
“My prince.” The wizard bowed to Ferox. “Windermere Castle requests my presence. I beg your leave.”
He nodded, and the wizard scuttled up the stairway.
Ferox stood directly in front of Van. “What’s your name?”
He didn’t sound happy.
“Nessie,” Van lied. She played it safe, just like Zurial did when she met Nick, rather than tell Ferox the truth—I’m Vanessa Cross the Lodian’s legendary Anchoress, the one with access to magical weapons powerful enough to obliterate the Balish.
Yeah. No.
As Ferox considered Van for a moment, thoughts rushed through her mind.
There was a good chance Ferox and his squadron were in the area searching for out-of-bound Lodian teens—specifically the Anchoress. Van had learned that as a royal, he grew up well versed in Lodian lore. She imagined Ferox as a child, surrounded by his scholars, telling him that one needed to know their enemies. This meant he knew the Alignment was taking place right now. And that the Cup of Life was on Cortica, a mere ship ride away.
He’d make his father—King Nequus—proud, returning home with the Anchoress, found on Balish land with her weapon, the Coin of Creation in her pocket. This would be the final push the Balish needed to petition the Elementals to remove Manik’s law. Then, the Balish would be allowed to engage in a war with the Lodians.
“Well, Nessie.” Ferox bent down to stare Van eye to eye.
The soldiers gripped Van’s shoulders tighter, to keep her in place.
“Earlier tonight we rescued a fairy caught in a fairy spike. She was able to give a description of the person who set the trap. You’re a stranger in these parts, and you fit that description.”
Ferox acted much more mature than his age. His eyes told a story that he held too many burdensome secrets. His demeanor implied he faced those secrets with dignity and responsibility. Ferox’s combined confidence, masculinity, and damn-fine looks intimated Van.
Yet, she knew Ferox lied to her. They were both lying to each other. Sort of.
Nessie was a nickname for Vanessa, and she did set the fairy trap, but she wasn’t part of the fairy trade.
And Van knew the fairy didn’t give Ferox any specific information. The fairy’s description—a young, sweet, blond girl—fit Van and Daisy, as it did any blond teen.
“Marketeer’s scouts have good reason to catch a fairy.” Ferox raised himself to full height. “They fetch a high price on the black market.”
A soldier came pounding down the stairs.
“Excuse me, Prince Ferox.” The soldier bowed to his superior. “A girl claiming to be your cousin is here.”
“What?” Ferox appeared puzzled. “Which one?” He shook his head. “Never mind.” He stomped up the stairs and left the basement.
Van heard a scuf
fle coming from the first floor.
The soldiers around her grew agitated. Two of them dashed up the stairs.
After a bit of time passed, the door to the basement opened.
A soldier bounded down the stairs, his face bruised. He carried a bunch of backpacks—that suspiciously looked like Van’s and her teammates’.
Pernilla followed behind him, looking grim. She wore yellow-colored contact lenses. She obviously borrowed Paley’s in an attempt to impersonate a Balish royal—Ferox’s cousin—since she had the swarthy skin and dark haired look of a Bale more than anyone else in their group.
Behind Pernilla came Brux with a black eye, Paley with a fat lip, and Daisy looking disheveled and terrified.
Van groaned. “What harebrained scheme did you try to pull off?”
More thumping and scuffling came from the first floor.
Two soldiers struggled coming down the stairs while propping Kopius who looked battered and bloody.
“Kopius!” Daisy cried. She tried to run to him, but a soldier roughly held her back.
“Don’t worry, love.” His grin showed bloody teeth, one of his eyes was swollen and half open. “I have ‘em right where I want.”
The soldiers tossed him onto the floor by Van and the others.
Ferox strode down the steps next. He scanned their ragtag crew.
“If you truly are marketeer’s scouts from Hod, you’ve gotten yourselves into deep trouble.” Ferox paced in a similar fashion as did his sister. “The fairy trade thrives in Cortica. Taking part in it is punishable by life in the dungeons.”
Daisy quivered, presumably remembering her time there.
“I know Cortica, or Outlaw Island, isn’t Balish territory but what happens there affects the mainland. My land.” He stopped pacing and swiveled toward them. “This heinous criminal offense must stop.”
None of them spoke. The room remained quiet and tense.
Plague of Death Page 18