by D. N. Hoxa
“Keep going,” was all Hiss said.
So, I did.
I could barely make out the outline of the stones over us and the shadows Faceless and I cast on them. There was a lot of space all around us, I could feel it in the cold air. The ceiling was high, though I couldn’t really make it out from the darkness. Maybe if I’d had a match or a phone with me this would have been easier. A flashlight would have been even better.
It was easy to lose sense of time in that place. There was no indicator of anything—only darkness and rocks and the echo of our footsteps in my head.
Eventually, we saw blue light. At first, I thought we’d somehow ended up in the Shade and it had sent us its blue lights, but it wasn’t Shade lights we were looking at. Whatever it was, it was much bigger, big enough to fit us through, and it shimmered like the reflection of the sun on perfectly clear water. Faceless let out a loud breath. She must have been as relieved as me to finally see something other than the dark.
“Is this it?” I asked Hiss.
“I don’t know. It must be,” he said. “We need to go through the reflection.”
“What if it doesn’t lead us where we need to go?” Faceless asked. She wasn’t afraid, only curious. I couldn’t say the same. The reflection in the middle of the darkness didn’t look like a Gateway, but I’d only ever seen one. For all I knew, this would take us to a different world altogether.
“Have faith,” Hiss whispered.
Choosing to have faith when there was none to be found inside me was difficult, but at least I was stubborn. Maybe Faceless was right. Maybe I did have the courage of a fool.
The closer to the reflection we got, the bigger it appeared. The moving lights nearly rendered me blind, but I shielded my eyes with my hand and kept on going. It didn’t feel like anything out of the ordinary. The air had been much colder in the cave than outside, but once my foot was consumed by the light, cold no longer touched me.
It felt like I’d been lifted over the ground by an invisible force, only for a second, and then put back down again gently.
And faster than my eyes could blink, I was in a different place.
I’d seen workshops back at home. I’d spent so much time in them, had slept in them, had learned in them, but this workshop was very different. The room was large, rectangular, and made completely out of wood. We’d landed right in the middle of it, and when I looked back at the wooden panels of the wall, the reflection we’d come through was still there, only here it looked less bright.
Because there was sunlight streaming in through the missing left wall of the room.
The workshop had tools of all kinds, tables and chairs, clothes and pieces of paper. There were all kinds of instruments in one part, and next to them was a pottery table, and next to that were stacks of wire. From them rose an animal that kind of looked like a cat if you focused hard enough. And next to the wires were three easels and a dozen paintings resting on the wall behind them. Brushes and colors and palettes were on the table next to them, and on the other side, there were books. Enough of them to give this place the name of a library. They were everywhere—on the tables and chairs and on the ground, and next to them were huge pieces of paper with hand-drawn maps on them, and building plans, too. They were all nailed to the wall, some of them white, some blue.
White marble statues, all of them only half finished, were set in the right corner, and across from them were pieces of wood and figures carved out of them.
There were so many things in there, it was a miracle the floor held them all up. I doubted an eternal life would be long enough to go through all of them, just like with the secrets of the universe.
But nothing was quite as extraordinary as what lay outside. Both Faceless and I turned left and walked slowly, taking in every detail. The sky was a dark purple, melting in with blues and oranges in the distance. The sun was a lot smaller, and it was more pink than golden. In the distance, there were mountains, and in front of them was a sea that met a jungle on the right, and a white sanded beach on the left. Miniature buildings formed tiny cities on the large wooden porch that extended all the way to the sea, that was more purple than blue.
And in the middle of it all was a man.
His long, dark beard touched his chest. His hair fell over his shoulders. He wasn’t taller than five foot five, maybe even less, and when he moved, he wobbled to the sides like a penguin would do. His light blue eyes were on Faceless, and an awestruck look on his face said he knew exactly who she was.
By the gods, we’d found him. We’d found the Believer.
“I always believed I’d meet you one day,” he said with a smile half hidden by his overgrown beard. He stopped five feet away from us and never looked at me once. I looked down at Hiss’s head on my shoulder. How had he known about Faceless?
“You’re the Believer,” Faceless said, her voice as light as the air. “I didn’t think I’d meet you in this lifetime, but I have heard of you.”
“Good things, I hope,” the man said.
“And bad,” said Faceless, completely unaffected. “This is Elo Heivar. She’s here to speak to you about worlds’ ends and wars. Will you listen?”
Finally, the man looked at me. He wasn’t nearly as impressed by me as he was by Faceless, but I smiled, nonetheless.
“Pleasure to meet you, Believer.”
“Call me Philip,” he said with a nod. “I don’t know what world will end or who’s at war with who, but I can’t help you, girl. I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time.”
My heart fell. Out of all of them, I sensed in my heart that this was the most important part of my mission. Philip was. His Talent was belief. If he believed something, it would come to be, and everything that was around me proved it. If he believed that we would defeat the sidhe, I had no doubt that we would.
“Will you at least hear my story?” I asked. “Please. It’s an important one. Or at least it will be.”
Philip didn’t look pleased. If it hadn’t been for Faceless, he’d have turned me away by now, and there would have been nothing I could do about it, but one look at her face, and he smiled again.
“Tell me your important story, girl. I will listen.”
True to his word, he did. He didn’t offer us a place to sit, but he did listen to every word I said. I had his full attention, and I held it until the very end. He absorbed every word like Hiss did every time I told him something new.
And Faceless, too. Even though I’d told her the same story just that morning, she still listened. By the time I was done, her eye stared somewhere outside at the purple sky. Her mind wandered.
But Philip’s didn’t. There was no pity in his eyes, no remorse. No hesitation.
“A beautiful story,” he said after a heartbeat. “But I still can’t help you, girl.”
Even my knees shook. “There must be something you can do. Something I can do for you. Name your price and I will pay it.” He shook his head and smiled to himself, as if what I was asking of him was ridiculous. “Name it.”
“Freedom,” he said with a sigh. “That is my price. My only price.” That took me a bit off guard, but before I could speak, he raised his hands to his sides and looked up at the wooden ceiling. “This place is not real. It’s just as much a prison as a Guild’s cell would be. What I’ve created here is full of limits. That sea there and those mountains?” He pointed his hand toward the outside. “Those aren’t real. If I were to try to sail those waters and climb those rocks, I wouldn’t be able to.”
“Why not? You are a Believer,” Faceless asked before I could.
The look in his eyes immediately softened. “Do you have any idea what it is like to convince your own self of something you know doesn’t exist?” He turned his back to us. “All my life, people have expected me to make things happen. Just make them happen, believe them! But it’s not easy. It’s never easy. I can’t just make a mountain out of thin air if I don’t know what it takes to be a mountain. My mind is powerful, but
it is also smart. Near impossible to fool. I know things for certain, and no amount of my trying to believe them to be otherwise is going to change them. Do you understand?” His eyes had teared up when he faced us again.
Since I’d heard about him, and until this very moment, I’d thought him to be the most powerful species to have ever existed. A Believer who could will things into being by simply believing in them.
I’d never stopped to think about what believing truly meant. Hiss always told me to give it my best and hope that I’ll succeed, but that was never as easy as he made it sound, either. I couldn’t hope when I had the facts laid out in front of me.
“Please,” I whispered anyway. “At least try. For Gaena’s sake.” For all its people.
“I won’t try when I know I’ll fail. I know next to nothing about your world, girl. I know next to nothing about war—or about anything. I’ve been here for years, trying to find ways to entertain myself.” He showed us his workshop, everything he’d tried to do, everything he’d already done. “I’m barely alive. I can’t save myself, and I can’t save you, either. I truly am sorry,” he said with a deep nod. My heart broke to pieces, but if he noticed, he didn’t care. He turned to Faceless instead. “Would you join me for tea, Soul Splitter? It would make my day.”
Faceless looked at me. I don’t know if she felt sorry or if she was indifferent, but she said nothing to me.
“I would love to,” she said to Philip, and when he offered her his arm, she laced it with hers. “And, please, call me Faceless.”
They walked away to the porch outside, to the dozen tiny cities on the floor, and in the middle of them was now a table and two chairs that hadn’t been there before.
I closed my eyes and kept my tears from spilling. I wanted to tell myself that it wouldn’t matter, but I knew that it did. I couldn’t fool my own mind, either. Nobody could.
One less ally in the already short list of help I had. What would I do without a Believer? Fidena wouldn’t have told me I’d need one if it wasn’t important. The urge to go out there and join Philip and Faceless, and beg him to reconsider almost brought me to my knees. And when I talked myself out of it, giving up seemed like the only logical move.
But how could I give up and stand back, knowing what was coming? How would I live if the sidhe actually succeeded in going back to Gaena and finding the Stone of Creation?
My legs took me forward before any idea had formed in my mind. Quitting was not an option, but I could still try. I could still beg Philip, just not with words.
I stepped in front of the easels and looked at the colors he’d put on his canvases. Then, I found an empty one against the wall. It wasn’t big or small. It was square and perfect. I put it on the easel in the middle and gave myself permission to use all the colors and brushes that were on the table.
Then, I began to paint.
They were outside so they couldn’t see me. If Philip had a problem with my using his things, he wouldn’t know until it was too late. The colors spoke to me like nothing else in the world ever could. The brushes were foreign to my fingers at first, but I learned how to move them soon enough. My heart sang, even if my soul had been weeping since the day Elid poisoned me. My mind was free to wander for what felt like days. I didn’t think when I painted—I only felt. To me, this was more release than having my soul stripped from my body.
Much too soon, every inch of the canvas was covered in colors. The painting wasn’t finished still, but it would be soon. The magic of it had let go of me, and I was aware of my surroundings again. I was aware of Philip and Faceless standing somewhere behind me, even Hiss watching me from the floor.
I was aware but I was completely focused on my painting. Nothing else truly mattered until it was finished, so I gave it all the time I could give it, until the last swipe of the brush.
I stepped back and looked at the blue sky, the green trees, the shiny grass, and the house in the middle of it all. It wasn’t big, but it was beautiful, made of white stone and wood. It was home.
“What is that?” Philip whispered from behind me.
“This is Tadora,” I told him and waved my brush over the painting. “This meadow is in the east of the village. It’s not a big village, but it houses over two hundred elf families, most of them from House Heivar and House Louvan. This here is a wish fountain, and it only grants wishes to children. And these small yellow flowers smell exactly like honey. It rarely rains in Tadora, but when it does, it doesn’t stop for days. Behind this house is the Grey Lake, one of the biggest in Gaena. Only a portion of it falls in Tadora, but the townspeople use it for swimming in the summer and fishing in the winter. It’s a magical place.”
Just like the rest of Gaena.
Philip came closer to me to inspect the painting better. “It’s beautiful,” he said, and I nodded. It really was. I put his brush down on the table next to the colors that called out to me still, and I smiled at him.
“This is what I can give you, Philip. It is as real as I am, standing next to you right now. Believe it, and it is yours.” It was the only freedom I could give him, away from the Guild and the rest of this world. It was up to him to accept it now.
When we left, Philip was still staring at the painting.
Chapter 16
Chapter
* * *
“Did you mean it?”
Faceless’s voice echoed in the cave on our way back. It surprised me.
“Of course, I did.”
“You can give him that house?” She sounded skeptical.
The house didn’t really exist. I’d only imagined it, but Philip could make it into anything he wanted.
“I can and I will. Tadora is property of House Heivar. If he helps us, the whole meadow will belong to him, and he won’t ever have to worry about the Guild—or anyone else—coming after him. He will be safe in Gaena.” I would make sure of it. “This life he leads is no life at all. He’s trapped.”
“He is, indeed. We all are.”
I believed her. I was trapped, too, and I was trying my best to break free, even now.
“Past mistakes make for the most terrible prisons,” Hiss said. “You did well, Elo.”
“I hope so,” I whispered, and even if I’d seen the finality of his words in Philips’s eyes, for now, I chose to hope that he would change his mind.
We found Julie as we’d left her, waiting alone on the rooftop of the old motel.
“He’s not going to help us,” I told her and watched the hope dim in her eyes. Her smile fell. “At least, that’s what he said.”
“It’s okay,” Julie whispered, looking at Faceless. “We’ll figure it out.”
“There are no other Believers around here by any chance, are there?”
“Not that we know of. Believers are very rare,” Julie said.
I nodded. I’d expected the answer, but it still left me disappointed.
The sounds coming from my dream were magical. I couldn’t quite make out what instrument was making them, or if there was more than one, but I could have spent an eternity just listening to that sound, focusing all of my attention on it until everything was right with the world.
“Pain Seeker, wake up.”
The voice was unmistakable. The stretched s told me about his panic long before the sound of his voice overran that of the music in my mind.
My eyes opened and I looked for Hiss, knowing I’d find him right next to me. And he was, but the music was still there, too.
I sat up with a jolt, my heart already hammering, my mind and instincts already aware that something was wrong. My room was dark, save for the lamp in the corner, and the door was slightly open. The sound was coming from outside, maybe down the hallway, maybe even farther away.
“Quick,” Hiss said, and he was already by the door, disappearing into the darkness outside.
With my heart in my throat, I ran after him, recognizing the music now. It was the strange violin that Faceless played. I’d only heard it once,
when I first met her, but once you heard that sound, you could never forget it. I ran down the hallway and to the stairs, following the music. I was halfway down when it cut off abruptly, freezing me in place for a second.
When I finally made it to Julie’s living room, my knees shook. Faceless was in the middle of the room with her violin and bow in hand, looking at the three men who were on their knees, their heads lowered, their souls shimmering over their heads. Julie was right behind her, holding her chest with both her hands, watching the men in horror.
I stepped farther inside without a word and lowered myself to my knees to see the faces of the men whose souls now danced over them. They weren’t fae—they were terrans. Their clothes were plain, and I didn’t recognize the first two, but the third was familiar. I’d seen him before.
To make sure I had gotten it right, I grabbed him slowly by his short brown hair and pulled his head up.
I wasn’t mistaken. I’d seen this man in the Guild offices every time I’d gone to tend to patients touched with the death spell. He was a Guild officer.
Letting go of his head gently, I sent my magic into the men’s bodies. I searched their minds, and they were already shut down, but I held them anyway and looked at Faceless.
“You can let go,” I whispered.
A second later, I felt consciousness slipping back into the men and the shimmers over their heads disappeared into thin air. I guided my magic and watched them try to move for only a couple of seconds before they fell on their faces on the floor, fast asleep.
Standing up on shaking legs, I forced my mind to think about what it didn’t want to think about.
“They found me.” The Guild had already found me.
“I called Mandar. He’s on his way,” Julie said. “Did I look like that, too?”
For a moment, I was confused. “You did.” She’d looked exactly like those men while Faceless had played her violin and had done her magic on her. Julie flinched but didn’t comment.