“Mmm,” I reply aloud as the fairy babbles on and on, circling around my head. I’m used to it now. I’ve learned to mostly tune her out.
“Try again!”
“That’d be nice.” I push the thought into her mind as she’s been teaching me to. I don’t like the feel of it. It’s too imposing.
“Good job!” she squeals and claps. “Oh, here comes Stinky,” she says as Rian trots up beside me on his steed.
“Hey, Dreamy,” he says with some amusement. “You’re lagging again.” I look up at the prince’s carriage which is several lengths ahead now, and curse under my breath.
“Charming.”
The wind whips my cloak as I press my heels into Pearl’s haunches to quicken her pace. Rian keeps up and behind me I hear the rest of His Majesty’s Elite rush to match my pace. The Elite is my parents’ guild. It’s a small company, hand-picked by His Majesty King Tirnon to carry out various quests and tasks. Rian’s mother, Mya, is the leader. He and I grew up side by side, often spending the weeks while our parents were away dreaming of this precise moment, when we could join them on the road to adventure. He passes me and looks back, and his grin makes my heart flutter. It’s only recently that our feelings for each other have grown into something more than friendship. I worried that our affections would fade in the months following our adventures in Kythshire, but if anything our feelings have grown stronger.
The air is milder now that we’ve breached the crest and started downhill on the winding mountain roads. The rear window of the carriage is open to the fresh breeze, and Princess Amei looks back at us and waves. Prince Eron dozes beside her, his head resting on a thick pillow propped against the carriage wall. I wave back with my free hand and then switch the banner and flex my fingers. Rian notices.
“Want me to take it?” he asks.
“Not yet,” I say. Riding point for the guild is an honor I have dreamed about for years. Even after a full day of riding with both wrists aching from the effort, I’m not ready to give up our banner just yet.
A single rider thunders past us from the front of the line and falls into step beside Mya. His name is Fenston, the Captain of the Guard.
“The forest is thinning,” he says to Mya with his usual stern tone. “We’ll be reaching the crossroads soon. The Inn at Westhaven is expecting us around sunset. We’re keeping good time but it wouldn’t hurt to quicken your pace some.” He looks ahead at me and I duck apologetically.
“Ooooo, you got in trouble.” Flitt giggles. “Such a funny thing, traveling so slowly and still being concerned with the time.”
“We’re not in Kythshire,” I push the thought to her. “We can’t just pop from here to there.”
“Too bad,” she teases. I squint my eyes and risk dropping the reins to rub my temples. I don’t like this Half-Realm talking, as Flitt calls it.
“The headaches go away after a while,” Rian’s voice echoes in my head. I groan.
“Not you, too,” I say. “Can’t we just,” I lower my voice as the Captain passes us, “talk? Out loud? Like normal people?”
“It could come in handy,” Rian says. “I think it’s fascinating.”
“You would,” I tease, “Mage. I’m taking a break from it for now. I don’t like it. It distracts me.”
“All the more reason to practice.” Flitt again. I roll my eyes and trot up closer to the back of the carriage where Amei is watching the columns of soldiers on horseback ahead of us.
“All right, Your Highness?” I ask.
“Did I hear him say we’re nearly there?” the princess asks me with a sweet smile.
“Nearly,” I reply. She reaches for her husband’s hand and squeezes it, and he blinks awake. I watch the two exchange a smile and then he turns and sees me. A curt nod is all he gives me in greeting, and that’s just fine with me. I bow respectfully and put some distance between us. A casual conversation with Amei is one thing, but I’ve learned to keep a safe distance between myself and the prince.
As soon as the forest thins and the fields open up on either side of the road, we’re greeted by a sprinkling of subjects who I’m sure have been waiting most of the day to see Their Highnesses ride past. They cheer as the carriage comes into view and bow when we pass by. They call out blessings and well wishes for the baby Amei carries, the new heir of Cerion yet to be born. I sit a little taller in my saddle as the crowds lining the roads grow thicker. We slow as we pass through the first village at the crossroads and the crowds cry Eron’s name. He calls for his horse and leaves the carriage to ride among them, stopping to shake hands and collect favors from the adoring subjects who have gathered to see him.
“No tarnished reputation here,” Rian says through the smile he’s planted on his face as he sidles his horse close to mine. “Look how they adore him.”
“Mama, look at the Lady Knight!” I hear a girl call out. I turn to wave to her and she squeals with delight. “She waved, did you see?” The girl’s father lifts her up and she tosses a bouquet of dried flowers to me. I catch them and nod to her and she claps and squeals with delight.
“Thank you,” I grin at her, flattered.
“Dead things. Ugh.” Flitt murmurs into my ear. “This is too much. I’m going. See you later!” She darts in front of my face in a rainbow-colored blur and is gone in a blink. I look around the crowd. Just as I expect, nobody seems to have seen her. Especially in crowded places, Flitt tends to stay safely hidden in the Half-Realm. Invisible to most people. On Rian’s other side, excitement is coursing through the crowd.
“Mage!” they call. “Mage! Look here! Show us a spell!”
“Rian…” I warn. Magic isn’t to be used as a spectacle. It’s a practical art. One that’s meant to help people. To protect. Not for show. Not frivolously. Especially not now. Still, Rian gives a cautious glance over his shoulder at the rest of the Elite, who are just as swarmed by the villagers. I follow his gaze. To the cheers of those around her, Mya has taken out her mandolin and started to play a bright anthem to the Royal Family. Beside her, her husband Elliot bobs his head in time to the beat, the red fringe of his hair waving this way and that. Beyond them Bryse and Cort, both warriors, are happily accepting tankards of ale from the tavern maids who have come out to greet and watch. I laugh at Bryse, who is so large that the tankard is more like a thimble to him. My father joins the two, raising his own mug. Beside him, my mother sits tall in her plate armor. She is a paladin, and the calming aura that surrounds her stretches out over the crowd, keeping the crowd at a certain level of peace despite their excitement. Brother Donal and Dacva have dismounted. They disappear into the throngs, looking for those who might need healing.
“Just one spell, just one!” Those beside him tug at Rian’s robes. I shake my head in warning, but I know it’s useless. Even after all we’ve been through, Rian can’t resist the temptation to show off. He reaches for my dried bouquet and holds it up. One by one the stems grow plump and green and the petals unfurl into fragrant, soft, colorful blossoms. As if that wasn’t enough, a dozen glittering butterflies burst forth from the bouquet and flutter around us. They rest on my helm and adorn my braid as he offers the bouquet back to me.
“My lady,” he grins mischievously. I take it with a roll of my eyes and a bemused smile as the crowd erupts into cheers around us.
“You’re hopeless,” I murmur as he leans to kiss me, causing another burst of excited applause.
“What? That was Third Circle. Barely a spell at all. Now, I could show them the Color Burst I’ve been working on.” He wriggles his brow at me. “That’s Sixteenth. But it’d probably be a bad idea, as it seems to have some sort of stunning effect.”
“Probably a bad idea. Yes.” I sigh at him as I turn my attention back to the road ahead.
We finally make our way through the village and travel onward, reaching Westhaven just as the sun dips below the treetops. This village is much larger than the last one we passed through, and it takes us twice as long to get through the w
elcoming crowds to the only inn large enough to host His Highness, his guard, and our guild together.
Normally on a quest we would camp out along the road and take watches in shifts. Rian, Dacva and I would groom and feed the horses, being the most junior members of the Elite. Here, though, our horses are led away by stable boys as soon as we dismount, and maids show us to generous rooms with plush beds and tubs of steaming water to wash in. There’s very little work to do. Mum, Mya, and I room together while the men of the guild have two rooms to split between them. When we’re all refreshed and changed out of our armor, we go down to the dining room where a feast has been laid out for us in honor of the prince.
Prince Eron sits at the front of the room with Princess Amei at his side. As I slide onto a bench beside Rian, I take note of the pair of guards posted at the main door and the second set standing just outside.
“Why don’t we stay at Forbend Keep?” I whisper to Rian as I break off a piece of bread.
“It’s too far out of the way for the princess in her condition,” he says. “We would have had to ride faster, and for another half day. This place is secure enough.” He brushes his fingers over his goblet before he sips from it.
“What was that?” I murmur.
“You don’t miss a spell, do you?” He chuckles. “Just checking. It’s all fine.” He nods to the table and I understand that one spell over his cup has tested everything else laid before us. It’s something my Uncle Gaethon would have done if he was here, but he put his faith in Rian to be the sole Mage of the guild on this journey. As the headmaster of the Academy, Uncle had too many other responsibilities to tend to during Prince Vorance’s visit.
The ale and wine flow freely, and it isn’t long before most of the party is deep in its cups, including the prince himself. Mya plays throughout the night, and there is dancing and laughter and merriment. Even Eron and Amei dance carefully, and Rian and I join them with Mum and Da. After a while, I start to notice Eron’s eyes on me far more often than they should be. I make a show of laughing and fawning over Rian. When that doesn’t work, I excuse myself and go outside.
In the street, Rian slips his hand into mine. We walk in silence to the outskirts of the village. When he’s sure nobody is watching, he whispers a word and the air shimmers around us as we settle into the Half-Realm, the space in between our realm and the dream realm, where fairies hide. Where we can be alone.
“Sorry,” I say. “I had to get out of there.” I lean against him and he strokes my hair.
“I know. I saw him.”
“Why does he have to be so…?” I trail off. I can’t think of a nice way to say it.
“Some people just are. He’s been through a lot. He’s trying to fill a void.”
I consider his words. Eron was recently caught in the grips of a Sorceress. Viala had managed to sweet talk and connive her way up through the Mages Circles of Cerion’s Academy to Master level at the young age of nineteen. She lured the Prince with seduction and held him with intricate enchantments to help her further her plots. Rian and I discovered later that she wasn’t acting alone. Her schooling was paid for by a group of ruthless Sorcerers from Zhagen, the capital city of Sunteri. They plotted to take over Kythshire, the land of fairies, in order to claim the power of its Wellspring, the source of all magic in Cerion. Prince Eron was released from her spells when Viala was stripped of her magic. In the wake of the events, he has stood many secret trials accusing him of treason.
King Tirnon is a just king, but he’s also a loving father. This journey to Lake Kordelya Castle is masked as a retreat for the princess who is carrying Eron’s baby, but in truth it’s meant to get the prince out the city and perhaps dampen the scrutiny and accusations that continue to surround him. Certainly he was under enchantments, but even so, I don’t believe the prince to be completely without faults. Rumors of his lascivious activities and the fruits of them sprinkled around the city are whispered among commoners and nobles alike. My thoughts drift back to the moments just last summer when he held me in a hidden alcove of the palace, brushed his rough chin on my cheek, and breathed hotly in my ear before I was whisked away by the younger princesses.
“I wish he could fill it without being so creepy.” I frown. We circle back and settle together into an alcove just across the street from the inn. No one from our world can see us in the Half-Realm, and Rian and I have made it our refuge these past few months.
“Don’t worry about him,” he whispers as he slides his fingers into my hair and pulls me to him. We kiss for what seems like half the night as the merry sounds of the feast drift out from the Inn, and my thoughts of the prince are long forgotten.
“Azi, you have a Stinky Mage stuck to your face. Want me to get it off?” Flitt giggles and Rian yelps and jumps away from me.
“Hey!” Rian yelps. “I told you before, that’s not funny, Flitt.” He scowls and rubs his nose.
“Oh, I think it is,” Flitt chirps.
“Well, you’re—”
“Shh, you two,” I whisper. Across the street, just beside one of the posted guards, a shadow moves. At first I think it’s a trick of my eyes, an odd flicker in the torch light. But as I watch, it changes slightly. It looks almost like a woman. Or the thought of a woman that hasn’t quite formulated yet. “Do you see that?” I whisper.
“Oh, it’s a dreamer.” Flitt hovers between us. “Someone dreaming, just wandering through.” As we watch the shadow shimmer and fade, another one catches my attention just down the street. It jumps up and starts to soar, and then touches down again several paces away.
“Why have we never seen them before?” I ask.
“Well, it’s difficult to see anything at all with your faces always stuck together, isn’t it?” Flitt scowls.
A streak of red fur emerges onto the road in the distance, and Rian tugs at his robes to smooth them. “Here comes Da,” he says, and we watch as the red blur slows until we can make out the pointed ears and yellow eyes of a fox. Elliot, Rian’s father, is a wood elf and a dream messenger. He takes the form of a fox in his dreams, and goes out scouting for information and delivering messages. He pauses as he reaches us and greets us with a bob of his head before ducking past the guards and into the Inn.
“Any word from the Ring?” Rian turns to Flitt. She turns her face away from him and crosses her arms.
“I’ve already answered two questions,” she huffs. “You owe me two now. Honestly I don’t think you’ll ever get it right, Mage. Typical.”
“What do you want to ask me?” Rian says through clenched teeth. I turn away and cover my smile. Poor Rian is constantly being antagonized by Flitt, and my laughing only seems to egg her on.
“When are you coming back to Kythshire?” she asks. She spins in place, causing the multi-colored ribbons of her skirt to fan out prettily. Rian glances at me.
“I don’t know…” he says quietly, his expression darkening.
“After we see the prince and princess safely to the castle guard.” I say. “That’s our plan.”
“That’s your plan,” Rian sighs. “I’ll wait outside.”
“You don’t have to. You’ll be fine.” I try to sound reassuring.
“Maybe.” Rian shrugs. I understand his concern. Kythshire has an effect on him. As soon as anyone crosses into its borders, they’re met with air thick with magic. For someone like me who doesn’t study the arcane, the feeling is simply confusing. It causes mood swings and inexplicable shifts in emotion. For a Mage, though, the effect is magnified. Every time a spell is cast even outside of Kythshire, the magic that courses through a Mage is intoxicating. Within Kythshire, so close to the Wellspring, it’s a constant effort for a Mage to keep himself in check. I’ve seen how it affects him firsthand.
“Are you really going to ask to bring her back?” Flitt whispers. Rian’s frown deepens and I hesitate to answer. There’s a long, awkward pause and he finally scratches the back of his head and steps down into the street.
“I’m go
ing back in,” he says quietly. I watch him pause at the guards, who are oblivious to him. He shakes his head and goes back down the street. When he emerges again, the guards stand at attention until he identifies himself, and then they allow him to pass.
“So, are you?” Flitt bobs before me, her multi-colored light brightening so much that I have to shade my eyes.
“I don’t know.” I let out a deep sigh. “It would help if they could see how she is now. To know she isn’t a threat anymore. I just wish I could make Rian see that he did the right thing by the choices he made for her.”
“You guys are all so complicated.” Flitt clicks her tongue. “We don’t bother lingering in the past. What’s done is done. Water past the willow tree.”
“Oh, is that right?” I cross my arms and lean back against the stone with a patronizing smile. “That must be why you’re so welcoming and trusting of us humans, especially Mages, hm?” I roll my eyes.
“That’s different!” she squeaks at me. Inside, Mya’s playing has slowed and the laughter has died down. I can hear the murmur of more serious conversation in quiet undertones beneath the music.
“I’m going in. Are you coming?”
“No way, it stinks in there. Like ale and smoke and people-sweat. Ugh. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Flitt.”
“Night!” She pops out of view and I’m tempted to follow her home. I’ve teleported to her grotto once before, but it was a dire situation. I’m not sure I could do it again. She’d probably call me rude if I did. Still, I don’t want to have the same circling conversation with Rian regarding Viala that we’ve had these past few weeks, and I know that once I go inside, that’s just where the discussion will lead.
“I don’t like going back on my word,” Rian whispers to me later in the hallway outside of my room. Everyone else has gone to bed, and I’m so exhausted I can barely stand.
“It’s ordered by His Majesty, Rian. He just wants to see her. He won’t keep her. She can go back to Iren after. You’re not breaking any word by asking to take her on a journey.” My eyelids are so heavy I can barely keep them open. This is exactly the conversation I was trying to avoid having again. “You never actually promised anything. You just agreed to spare her. What are you afraid of? Please help me understand.”
Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) Page 5