The Dagda's Cauldron (The Faeling Sisters Book 1)

by M. C. Cairns

  Squinting her eyes, she could see what looked like a tunnel made out of woody vines. Tossing her bag over her shoulders, she practically ran toward the tunnel. Mack scrambled to catch up to her, but then fell in step with her easily. Neither one of them spoke as they hiked the short distance to the entrance. Brianne could see light shining on the other side of the tunnel and she began to walk even faster at the thought of the sun warming her cold bones. At the exit, she paused for a moment and turned her face toward the sun, breathing in the fresh air. It smelled of pine and honeysuckle and instantly lightened her mood.

  "This is much more like what I expected." She found a soft spot to relax under a large willow tree and collapsed. "What was that place?"

  "Actually, it is the same as this place," Mack answered. "It's called the Seam. This is the land between the Seelie and Unseelie courts. It is an area of the realm that does not belong to either court and is the only neutral ground for faeries anywhere. Because it belongs to neither light nor dark, it takes on characteristics of both. The part on the other side of the tunnel is like the dark faerie kingdom and this is similar to the light faerie kingdom. Almost all portals lead to the Seam, making travel to and from the human realm easier for both sides. The only portals that are not located in the Seam are the ones with special importance to the kingdom in which they lie, like the ones near the four treasures."

  Brianne listened intently as she petted the bunny-like creature that climbed in her lap. It was fluffy like a bunny, but the ears were shorter, the legs a little longer, and it had paws like a Saint Bernard puppy. "So, if it's neutral ground, does that mean no one can attack us here?"

  "Correct. We are protected by the laws of neutrality and anyone who breaks those laws is immediately and severely punished by their respective queen."

  "Too bad the animals don't know those rules." Her head snapped up and searched Mack’s face. "Wait! What if that animal, what did you call it, the fialp, what if the fialp didn't attack me on its own? What if someone from the Unseelie court sent it to attack me? That would be against the rules, too, right? Could they be punished for that?"

  "It is possible," Mack mused, "and it would explain why the fialp attacked you to begin with, since even the animals in the Seam are aware of the neutrality. It would be difficult to prove and nearly impossible to determine who would want to attack you. I mean, everyone in the dark court is going to be gunning for you and your sisters right now, but this doesn't feel like they were actually trying to hurt you."

  "Not trying to hurt me?" She sat forward so quick the bunny leapt from her lap and hopped away. "Did you see that thing? It would have gored me and ripped my flesh to shreds if I hadn't accidentally set it on fire!"

  Mack jumped up from his seat on a large, flat rock and pointed at Brianne. "That's it! They wanted to see your magic and figured if you were attacked you would be forced to use some sort of magic to protect yourself. It was all about getting information!"

  "So that's what that was? My magical abilities? I’m a pyro?"

  "Not a pyro, Bree, a controller of fire. Pyromaniacs have no control and can’t stop themselves from starting fires. You, on the other hand, are able to create, shape, and bend fire to your will. Once you learn to master it that is."

  "I guess that explains the burning stage at the Evading Destiny concert," she said under her breath.

  "You set a stage on fire?" He laughed.

  "I didn't mean to!" She picked at the grass. "I was really excited and it just kind of happened!"

  Suppressing his laughter, Mack held out his hand to help her up. "It's okay. Now that you know you can do it, you will start learning to control it."

  Brianne grabbed his hand and pulled herself off the bed of thick, soft grass. "Hopefully before I get hurt or hurt someone else. Which way are we headed now? Where is the next portal?"

  "Right behind you." He indicated the large willow tree she had been relaxing under.

  "What's on the other side?"

  "Michigan."

  "Really? Our shortest path from Tennessee to New York is through Michigan?"

  "It's more of a detour." Mack turned away from her and picked up her backpack.

  "A detour? Why are we taking a detour? What happened to getting to Niagara Falls in the least number of jumps possible?" Brianne hated when people changed the plans without her knowing.

  "There is something we need to pick up in Grand Rapids that is essential to the journey." Mack handed her the backpack with a smug look on his face.

  "What is this crucial item?" she asked sarcastically.

  "Your sister."

  PART TWO

  ALAYNA

  6

  The Concussion

  A

  LAYNA DIDN'T MOVE. She just laid there staring at the metal bars and round light fixtures suspended from the gymnasium ceiling, the sore spot on the back of her head throbbing harder with each heartbeat. Seriously? As if gym class wasn’t bad enough without me falling over my own feet and slamming my head against the ground. I’ll hear about this one for weeks, Alayna thought. She groaned and could heard someone talking to her in the distance.

  "Are you okay?" Kayla's face was all she could see now.

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Just lost my footing," she muttered as she sat up. She reached back and felt the lump on her head. Touching it made it hurt worse, and for a minute all she could see were pretty colors and lights. "Maybe I need to sit down for a minute."

  "Grab your gear and go to the nurse's office," the coach instructed.

  Alayna reluctantly headed toward the locker room and made her way to the nurse.

  The nurse asked her for a third time if she wanted to go home. Alayna rolled her eyes and answered her again. "Really, I am okay. I don't want to go home. I can't miss class today." Any other day she probably wouldn't care, but she had to be in art class today. Ms. Grayson told them yesterday that she had a big announcement today and a little bump on her head was not going to keep Alayna away.

  "If you have a concussion, missing class is the least of your worries. I need to call your parents and inform them of the situation. If they say you can stay, then I will let you go back to class." Art class was going to start in fifteen minutes and the nurse was wasting time looking up her parents' phone number.

  Alayna bit her thumbnail and looked around at the other students. She stepped up to the nurse’s desk. "I can call my mom for you since you are so busy already.” She knew her dad would never let her stay, but her mother was a teacher and was always saying how missing one class was much more detrimental than most parents thought, so maybe she could convince her.

  "Okay, but I will need to speak to her myself."

  Alayna nodded her head, but immediately regretted it. How could one bump hurt so much? She closed her eyes trying to dull the pain while she waited for her mother to pick up.

  "Mrs. Davis's room." Her mother’s voice was soft, but professional.

  Alayna chewed on her nail again. "Hey, mom."

  "Alayna? What's wrong?" Her mother had always told her not to call unless it was an emergency. She figured this qualified.

  "Everything's okay, mom. I fell and hit my head in gym class and the nurse wants to send me home. But I’m really fine. I just have a little headache, but that shouldn't keep me from missing class, right?” The words rushed from Alayna’s mouth. “She said if you were okay with me staying then I could go back to class. I really don't want to miss class, mom."

  The nurse reached out her hand, indicating it was time to give her the phone. After a few agonizing minutes, she hung up the phone and began filling out a blue slip of paper. "Take this to your next teacher and let them know where you were. Don't lose this paper. It is your excuse from class."

  Alayna snatched the paper out of the nurse's hand, grabbed her books and made her way up the stairs, through the library, and across the lawn to the art and music building as fast as she could without actually running. She walked into class right as the bell was ringing
and laid the blue slip on Ms. Grayson's desk. She walked to the back of the room with her head down, and slid onto her stool, keeping one foot on the ground to stop the room from spinning.

  "As some of you may remember," Ms. Grayson began as she handed back their projects from last week, "I have been working on a secret project for a couple of months. You may also remember that I told you I have a big announcement to make today." She turned and scanned the class to make sure she had everyone's attention. "I will be making that announcement at the end of class."

  The whole room groaned. Alayna nearly threw up, but she regained control of her stomach in time to smile at the small teacher as she handed her back her project.

  "Great job, Alayna.” Ms. Grayson patted her shoulder. “You are an exceptionally versatile artist. At the beginning of the year, you favored charcoal, but this watercolor piece is stunning. You have an eye for blending and use of complementary colors. I can't wait to see more from you."

  "Thank you." She blushed at the attention and lowered her eyes, focusing on the art in front of her. The watercolors appeared to move and slide on the canvas as she looked at them. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. Maybe I’ll go back to the nurse after class and go home after all.

  She suffered through the rest of class in silence, but she kept seeing spots and those watercolors were still swirling. Plus, everything was ten times louder than usual, making her headache even worse. It was getting harder and harder to focus on anything, and she was glad when Ms. Grayson told them they could stop.

  "All right, class. Put your supplies away quickly and return to your seats, please." The teacher’s sweet voice was raised slight so everyone could hear her over the scrapes of stools across the floor and art supplies being returned to plastic bins.

  "I wonder what this big announcement is," Alayna overheard someone saying, but couldn't focus on who was talking.

  "I heard she is leaving the school. That project she has been working on is some big piece of art that she is getting paid millions to make."

  "No way. She's just a teacher, not a real artist."

  "Devon told me she found a job somewhere else. He said she was talking to Mr. Ellington about going somewhere and he said they didn't know who they would get to take her spot."

  Ms. Grayson flicked the lights off and on. "Settle down, settle down. I know you have all been trying to figure out this announcement, so I think it is time I tell you the truth."

  Just my luck. My favorite teacher, and the only one I have learned anything from and she’s leaving. Could this day get any worse?

  "I have been working with Mr. Ellington to gain permission from the school board for a trip." Ms. Grayson stood in front of the class, her hands clasped in front of her, and her permanent smile on her face.

  Excitement and whispers spread through the room.

  "A trip?"

  "Cool!"

  "Wonder where we are going?"

  Mrs. Grayson waited a minute for the room to quiet down again. "This trip is not for the whole class. One very talented student will be traveling to Grand Rapids, Michigan to enter their work in ArtPrize."

  "What is ArtPrize?" Devon asked.

  The teacher perched on her desk and gave what had to have been a practiced answer. "ArtPrize is one of the largest art exhibits in the world. Artists are featured throughout the city of Grand Rapids, some in museums or galleries, some in restaurants, and others in laundromats and gas stations. It lasts for nineteen days and more than half a million people from all over the world attend. Over five-hundred thousand dollars in prizes are awarded each year."

  “Five. Hundred. Thousand? Like half a million?” Devon looked around at his football friends. “Sign me up.”

  The class laughed and some of the football players gave him high fives.

  A dark-haired cheerleader in the front row spoke over the noise. "How are you going to decide who gets to go?" Alayna stared at her, trying to remember her name.

  Ms. Grayson pointed at the painting of a cat on the cheerleader’s desk. "Those projects I just handed back to you were your entries in a secret competition. The winner of that competition gets to attend ArtPrize and have their work displayed there."

  "If I had known it was a competition, I would have worked harder on mine. That's not fair," Devon blurted out and some of the class agreed.

  "I wanted someone who cared about the quality of their work all the time, not only when it was part of a contest.” She looked specifically at Devon. “That is why it was kept a secret."

  "So, who won?" Several students asked at once.

  "Even I don't know that yet." Ms. Grayson smiled as she held up a sealed envelope. "I wanted it to be a surprise for all of us."

  The whole class held its breath as she slipped her finger under the seal and broke it open. The ripping of the envelope was the only sound in the room while they waited for her to pull out the slip of paper inside.

  "The winner of the ArtPrize competition is..."

  Everyone leaned forward. Alayna held on to the table to keep from falling off her stool.

  "Alayna Davis!"

  Every face in the room turned toward her as the class clapped and congratulated her. Alayna focused on Mrs. Grayson and stood up to receive the prize.

  Then the world went black.

  7

  The Dream

  T

  HE SUN SHINING THROUGH HER bedroom window woke Alayna from a strange dream. The extraordinary land was so real that her mind couldn't quite grasp her surroundings when she looked around. Shaking her head to clear her mind brought her back to reality, but she cringed at the sudden shot of pain. Ow. I really thought the pain would be gone by now. Two days is plenty of time to heal.

  Sitting up slowly, she reached over and grabbed the water bottle from her bedside table. She gulped it down and immediately felt a little better. Making her way to the desk, she was glad it was Saturday. ArtPrize was only a week away and she needed one more piece to take with her. After her dream last night, she finally knew what she wanted to paint.

  Once the canvas was securely on the easel, she arranged her watercolors and brushes across her desk. Closing her eyes, she recalled the lush green carpet of grass, the cool shade provided by an over-sized oak tree, a babbling stream flowing behind the tree, and the girl. She was sitting under the tree, her eyes closed, nodding her head to the beat of the music. Her inky hair fell over one flannel-covered shoulder in a loose braid, and her fingers tapped on the bare skin of her leg, peeking out of the holes in her faded black jeans. Even though she looked so small against the massive tree, it was impossible to overlook her. She was not only beautiful, but she had a kind of ethereal glow about her. Plus, she felt oddly familiar to Alayna, and when she looked at her she had this feeling like she could almost remember something, but she wasn't sure what.

  With the picture clear in her mind, Alayna began painting. Usually, she questioned every stroke, planned out every part of whatever she was creating, and double checked all of her work as she progressed. This piece was different. She felt it rather than seeing it. The painting flowed from her through her brushes and almost created itself. As she painted more, she remembered more. Small details, like the emerald and sapphire bird resting in the boughs of the tree, and the flowers dotting the background that resembled miniature tiger lilies, quickly became a part of her canvas. She was so immersed in her vision that she almost forgot she was not actually there, so when her mother knocked on her door, she didn't hear it at first.

  "Alayna?" Her mother paused, waiting for an answer. "Alayna," she said louder, pushing the door open. "Alayna!"

  "What? Oh. Sorry, mom. I didn't hear you. What's up?"

  Her mother walked into her room and felt her head with the back of her hand. “I was coming to check on you and see how your head felt today, but now I am worried that maybe you did more damage than we thought. Are you okay? Do we need to go to the doctor and have you checked out again?"

  "I'm
fine, mom. I was concentrating on my last piece for ArtPrize. Ms. Grayson said I needed to present something in three different genres. I have the charcoal drawing of that lighthouse from vacation last year and the one I did of Kayla with colored pencils, but I wanted something new to show. So, I chose watercolors because Ms. Grayson was impressed with my last project using them." She wasn't about to tell her mother that she chose the watercolors because she thought she saw the last painting moving. That would definitely earn her a trip to the head doctor.

  Her mother looked closer at the canvas. "What is this place you are painting?"

  Alayna shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure. I had a dream last night about it and thought it would make a great painting."

  "You have such a great imagination, honey. It's beautiful."

  "That's just it, mom. I've never made up my subjects before. I always use something or someone I know or at least have seen. This," she pointed at the painting, "this place feels familiar, like I have been there before. And the girl under the tree seems very important to me, but I don't have any idea who she is or where this is. Do you recognize it?"

  Her mother stared at the painting, deep in thought, her hand covering her mouth. Shaking her head, she turned back to Alayna. "No, sweetie, I am sure it only feels familiar because your dream was so realistic." Hugging her daughter, she continued, "Try not to worry about it. The painting is beautiful and will look amazing hanging in that fancy Italian restaurant. Even if they hang it in the bathroom."

  Alayna giggled. That was her first worry when they read the letter giving her all the details about ArtPrize and her location. Her parents laughed and started calling her the "Potty Painter."

  Heading toward the door, her mother stopped to give her a quick hug. "Now, take a break, shower, and join us for a late breakfast. I am sure you will feel better about it after you eat."