Enchanted Ivy

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Enchanted Ivy Page 17

by Sarah Beth Durst


  Jake's head shot up.

  "She visited our world often," the dryad queen said. "She was one of several knights who wanted to build friendships between humans and our kind, led by the man who stole my Rose's heart."

  Jake gaped at her. "My mother ... she came here?"

  "At first, they were brought by a Key who was also a

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  knight. Later, your brother and Lily were their Keys."

  "I don't have a brother," Jake said.

  "Half brother," the queen corrected.

  "My grandfather never mentioned a half brother," Jake said. "He would have told me. We have no secrets. You must have mistaken me for someone else."

  The queen's eyes slid across the trees, as if seeing a memory. "One day, Rose and the knights crossed through the gate. She had her baby in her arms. And she simply ... did not return. None of them did. We believed that they had all died." She fixed her eyes on Lily. "If she'd lived, she would have returned. If she'd lived, you would have brought her back. The knights must have prevented it. They kept her in the human world until her memory faded, and they kept you in ignorance of it all."

  Lily shook her head. "No." Grandpa wouldn't have done that.

  "Where is she now?" the queen asked.

  "In Vineyard Club," Lily said. "Safe. Waiting for me."

  "So, they hold her even now," the queen said. Once again, the trees began to tremble and shake. Branches creaked and snapped.

  "I told you, she chose to stay!" Lily said. "My grandfather is sick--"

  The queen touched Lily's face again, a gentle stroke. "I do not blame you, my dear," she said. "You have been used--you are being used--to keep Rose from her home."

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  "No one's using me." Lily said. "My world is her home now."

  "Help her return," the queen said. "Give her back her memories. And then let her choose. If you truly love her, you will give her the chance to choose with full knowledge of what she has lost."

  Lily opened her mouth to reply, but she couldn't think of what to say. The queen was right. Mom deserved the chance to choose. But what would happen to her when she regained her memories? Would she still be Mom, or would she change into one of these distant and inhuman creatures?

  "She must return," the queen said. "You know this, or you wouldn't be here. She slips away a little more from you every day, doesn't she? If she doesn't return, she will continue to lose herself bit by bit until you have lost her, too."

  Unable to speak, Lily nodded.

  "Good," the queen said. "To ensure that the knights do not interfere, we will keep the head knight's grandson with us until my Rose is home." She smiled as if pleased with herself.

  "You can't!" Lily clutched Jake's arm. "He can't stay in this world. He's already feeling the effects. He has to return!" The dryads shifted closer, tightening the circle around Lily, Jake, and Tye.

  "I will not risk a refusal," the queen said. "My daughter is alive! But do not trouble yourself. We will treat your beloved human with every kindness. If you'd like, his half brother may remain with him to ensure his good treatment." She nodded at Tye.

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  Tye jumped. "I'm not his ..." His voice trailed off. His eyes widened as he studied Jake. In a strained voice, Tye said, "You know, I always wanted a brother. Kind of pictured him less bigoted and with more of a sense of humor, though."

  "I have a sense of humor," Jake said, "and I think the idea that you're my brother is laughable."

  "You aren't laughing," Tye pointed out. "Tell me your mother's name."

  "Anne," Jake said. "Anne Mayfair, born Anne Norton. She died when I was little."

  Tye's voice was a whisper. "She used to sing a lullaby about horses, and she always smelled of apples."

  "She did," Jake said, his voice a croak.

  "And she liked to read. I remember lots of books."

  "We still have her books," Jake said.

  Tye and Jake stared at each other as if they'd both grown wings and a tail.

  Again, silence. And then Tye flashed his lopsided grin at Lily. "You seem to have quite a knack for uncovering secrets," he said.

  "She's a Key," her grandmother said with a wintery smile. "She does as she was born to do. She unlocks us all." The dryad queen then flicked her wrist. Branches swooped down, wrapped around Lily, and snapped her up into the air.

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  CHAPTER Thirteen

  Snared in branches, Lily was yanked into the treetops. Screaming, she burst through the leaves into the sunlight above the forest, and then the branches coiled around her. "Tye! Jake!" Whirring as loudly as a windmill, the leaves rushed to form a cylinder around Lily. She screamed again, and then she was sliding through a shaft of solid green. She tried to grab at leaves and branches as they rushed by. Suddenly she plummeted, held in a falling net of branches, vines, and leaves. And then the trees withdrew, leaving her lying on pine needles next to FitzRandolph Gate.

  On their pillars, the gold eagles shrieked.

  She could not afford to be sent back to the council. Lily scrambled to her feet and dove toward the gate. She saw a flash of white, and then she was skidding down the slate flagstones that led to Nassau Hall.

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  Her throat raw from screaming, Lily lay panting on the walkway. Her skin still fizzled with magic, but behind her, she heard the whiz of cars mixed with the hum of trees. She turned her head to see the shops of Nassau Street.

  One of the stone eagles spoke. "Welcome home, little Key."

  "Thanks," she said automatically. Looking up at the twin eagles, she asked, "You see everything that happens here, don't you?"

  "Of course," the same eagle said.

  Lily got to her feet. "Do you remember my mother? Rose Carter? The last time she crossed through the gate ... did anything unusual happen?"

  Both eagles were silent.

  She started to think that they weren't going to answer her.

  "You were a baby in her arms the last time she crossed," the first eagle said. "Your father was with you, as was Jake Mayfair's mother. Jake's father met them here. He was a surprise, I remember."

  "Yes," the second eagle said. "There had been animosity between him and his former wife, but he had come to reconcile."

  Lily remembered what Grandpa had said, that Jake's parents had been "only beginning to find peace." She felt her stomach clench. Half of her didn't want to hear what happened next; the other half was pretty sure she already knew. "Then what?"

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  The stone eagles fell silent again.

  "Please, I need the truth," she said.

  "Humans call it the FitzRandolph Gate Tragedy," the first eagle said.

  "It's not our place to tell you this," the second eagle said.

  The first eagle agreed. "It is not. Ask your grandfather."

  "He's hurt," Lily said. "You have to tell me. Mom doesn't remember. And I have to know--why didn't she go back?"

  But the eagles didn't speak again.

  She hugged her arms. Even though it wasn't cold, she couldn't stop shaking. The dryad queen had been right about one thing: The last time Mom had walked through that gate, something had happened that changed everything. Lily had a very good guess about what that "something" was. If she was right, then her parents, Jake's parents, and the eagles hadn't been the only ones at the gate that day.

  Lily started walking without telling her feet to move. Around her, the oak trees whispered and hummed. She walked faster. As she passed through East Pyne, the ivy hissed and buzzed. She began to run.

  Crossing the plaza, she fixed her eyes on the Chained Dragon, still swollen from their earlier encounter. The stone serpent dominated half of the arch. His tail curled among the carvings of grapes, leaves, birds, and foxes, and his stone face with the sad puppy eyes hung low, just above the door.

  She halted underneath him. "I'm back," she called up to him. "Wake up!"

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  Above, the stone tail flicked. It clattered against the
stone leaves that surrounded the dragon. Bits of dust rose into the air and caught the sunlight.

  "I want all the truth this time," she said.

  "Come closer," the dragon said.

  Lily snorted. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

  "You returned. That means you are either foolish or desperate." His voice slid around her, and despite expecting it, Lily shuddered. "Do you not yet know what I am capable of?"

  "I think I do," she said. "I think you killed my father."

  The Chained Dragon smiled. "Oh, yes. Yes, I did."

  Lily rocked back on her heels. She couldn't speak. Sixteen years ago, her father hadn't died in a car accident. He'd been killed by a dragon.

  So that was the event that had changed everything.

  The dragon was not done speaking. "Killing him was of course not my intent."

  "Oh?" So she was supposed to believe it had just been an accident after all? Oops, the dragon accidentally attacked? She'd lost her father. Jake had lost both his parents, including the woman who was both his and Tye's mother. ...

  "My intent," the dragon said, "was to kill you."

  Unable to think, unable to breathe, Lily ran into the chapel. Her footsteps echoed on the stone floor. She ran between the pews. Blue light from the stained-glass windows tinted the shadows. The silence closed around her.

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  Inside, she couldn't hear the horrible laugh of the stone dragon. She couldn't hear the hum and buzz of the trees and ivy. Inside, she could breathe again. She sank down into one of the pews and dropped her face into her hands.

  Behind her, Lily heard footsteps. She didn't turn. She didn't want to face some random alum who wanted to tour the chapel or a priest who didn't realize that his sacred church was a prison for a murderer.

  A hand landed on her shoulder, and Lily jumped up and spun around.

  "Calm," Mr. Mayfair said. He spread his hands to show he meant no harm. "I didn't intend to startle you."

  She wanted to leap up and hug him, but in his starched Brooks Brothers shirt, he wasn't the sort of man that one hugged. "How did you ..."

  "Know you were here?" he said. "The eagles reported that you'd returned. I saw you outside the chapel on my way to the gate to meet you."

  In a whisper, she asked, "Grandpa?"

  Mr. Mayfair patted her shoulder. "Same. Unresponsive but still stable."

  She sank her head into her hands again.

  "You were talking to the dragon," Mr. Mayfair said. "He upset you."

  "Is it true?" she asked, looking up at him. "Did he really kill ..." At his pained expression, Lily remembered that Jake's father was Mr. Mayfair's son. "I'm sorry," she said. "The

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  dragon said ... he said he was trying to kill me ."

  Mr. Mayfair sighed. His shoulders dipped, and he suddenly looked old and tired, as if the weight of the cathedral roof had settled onto his back. "I knew you would eventually discover that."

  "My mother ... she could have continued to carry me back and forth. She could have kept her memory, her sanity. But she didn't return to the magic world."

  "She thought you would be safest if you had a normal life, away from the gate," Mr. Mayfair said. "She convinced your grandfather that it was worth the cost to herself. She allowed her family to believe she was dead, and she let herself decline."

  For a minute, Lily was silent, digesting that. "But ... but once the dragon was imprisoned again, why didn't she return then? Was I still in danger?"

  Mr. Mayfair studied her. "You are a bright thing, aren't you? It's little wonder that Richard is so proud of you."

  Lily felt a lump in her throat. Grandpa always told her how proud he was. She pictured his face after he'd met her at the gate. He'd been beaming. "The Key guy ... he would have known better than to go too close to the dragon," she said. "How did the dragon catch him? He couldn't have done it alone."

  "Come," Mr. Mayfair said. "There's someone here who can answer your questions. She waits for us in the choir box."

  Lily twisted in her pew to look up at the choir box. She

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  saw a balcony of pews beneath organ pipes and a stained-glass window shaped like a blue rose. The window shed a gentle light over the box. In the front, she saw a shimmer in the air like heat over hot pavement. She squinted at it and saw a figure. Someone knelt in one of the pews. "Who is it?"

  "Come upstairs with me," he said. "I will introduce you."

  He led the way back to the antechamber. At the white marble staircase, he unhooked the red velvet rope with the sign that read BALCONY CLOSED. He gestured for Lily to walk in front of him.

  She climbed the stairs. At the top, Mr. Mayfair opened the door to the choir box. Six rows of wooden pews overlooked the chapel. Brass organ pipes protruded from the back wall.

  A woman knelt in the pew closest to the railing.

  As Mr. Mayfair closed the door behind him and Lily, the woman rose in a single fluid motion and faced them. She was as beautiful as a doll, with plastic-smooth skin and shimmering blonde hair. She wore a simple white summer dress that showed off her flawless skin ... and her gossamer wings. An iridescent pair framed her head like twin halos and then swept down to the floor like a bride's train. Lily stared at the wings and wondered what the hell was going on.

  The fairy asked, "A present for me? Oh, you shouldn't have."

  "She's a Key," Mr. Mayfair said.

  The fairy laughed, a tinkling sound like crystal shattering. "Splendid! So this must be the dryad's daughter."

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  Lily took a step backward. Mr. Mayfair laid a hand on her shoulder, halting her retreat. "Mr. Mayfair, who is she?" Lily asked. She tried to keep her voice even. There was no cause for alarm, she told herself. This was Joseph Mayfair, leader of Vineyard Club, a knight in shining armor, and Grandpa's oldest friend.

  In a kindly voice, Mr. Mayfair said to Lily, "I hope you understand that this is nothing personal. I admire your intelligence and resourcefulness. But so long as travel between worlds is possible, the war between humanity and Feeders cannot end."

  Please, Lily thought, let me be hearing this wrong. She looked into his earnest blue eyes. "What are you saying?"

  "All magic creatures are potential Feeders." He was patient, grandfatherly. "The only way to truly protect humanity is to eliminate all access between the worlds."

  The fairy laughed again. "Lock the door and throw away the key," she said. "Pun intended, of course."

  Lily yanked away from Mr. Mayfair and lunged toward the door. With ease, he darted in front of her. He caught her wrist in his iron grip.

  "I am deeply sorry for how this has turned out," he said. She twisted, trying to pull away from him. "Your grandfather insisted that you take the Legacy Test for your mother's sake. I did my best to convince him to keep you safely in ignorance. Indeed, when persuasion failed, I set the goblin on you to frighten you, but you persisted."

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  She felt her mouth drop open. "You sent the goblin?"

  "My goblin," the fairy chimed in behind her.

  Mr. Mayfair ignored the fairy. "You see, I didn't want it to come to this," he said to Lily. "For the last sixteen years, I tried to avoid extreme measures. The tiger boy was easy enough to discredit with the knights. He was no threat to my plans. But you, the daughter of a highly respected knight ... Already the knights accept you as our new Key. Already they talk about new alliances and renewed relations. This cannot be. Our worlds must be separate. It is now clear to me that I have no choice. Your death is the only way to protect mankind. Do you understand, my dear?"

  She kicked at his knee and swung her free fist. He caught her hand easily and evaded her kicks. "You're supposed to be good. You're supposed to be a goddamn knight!"

  Behind her, so close that Lily could feel her soft breath in her hair, the fairy said, "You shouldn't blaspheme in a church."

  Tears poured down Lily's cheeks. "My grandfather trusted you."

  "Your grandfathe
r is a good man, blinded by idealism," Mr. Mayfair said. "Your death by a Feeder will convince him at long last that the war with the Feeders must end. This is a necessary and regrettable sacrifice for the cause of a greater good."

  Oh, God, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't do this. She tried to think of something to convince him, anything to stop him. "But your grandson ... Jake will die!"

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  Mr. Mayfair froze. "Explain." His voice was low. It shot through her.

  "The dryads have him," Lily said. "They'll exchange him for my mother. Tye is with them, so that means I'm the only one who can save your grandson. You have to let me go!"

  Mr. Mayfair turned away from her. "And let you reveal what we have discussed here? There is too much at stake. There is the world at stake." His voice was flat.

  "You can't let Jake die!" she cried. "He trusts you. He believes in you. He loves you."

  "And I will mourn him," Mr. Mayfair said simply.

  Tears poured down Lily's cheeks. "Please!"

  To the fairy, he said, "For Jake ... make it hurt."

  Lily spun around to see the Feeder smile at her as beatifically as one of the angels in the stained-glass window that rose gloriously behind her. Her wings fluttered, and her feet hovered six inches above the floor. Lily felt a breeze in her face, and it smelled of lilacs and lavender. She backed toward the door and kept backing up until she realized Mr. Mayfair was gone.

  Run, she thought. She turned and--

  The fairy was there.

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  CHAPTER Fourteen

  The fairy laid a delicate finger on Lily's lips. "Shh," she said.

  Lily's heart beat as fast as a hummingbird's wings. Oh, God. "Please," she said. "Please, don't kill me. Don't listen to Mr. Mayfair. He's not on your side. But I can help you. I can take you home. I'm a Key."

 

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