I will my hands to move. I’m a fair climber. I’m a third of the way up when the shadow closes in around me. I can’t see a thing. Not Mevyn, not even my hands in front of me.
“Keep climbing.”
I quicken my pace, scrambling to get to the top, but the darkness follows. Halfway up, images swim through my thoughts. Dreams. Red blooms and laughter. Chasing Zhilee in the sunshine. The pages of a book fluttering in the breeze. Nan, not stooped and aching but tall and strong, standing in the doorway, smiling at us. Viala reading aloud from a storybook. No work to do. No picking or hauling. No whips or deadlines. Just happiness. Playing. Love. It’s so real, so real I can smell the flowers. So wonderful that the laughter bubbles in my throat. I feel Zhilee’s hand in mine. I’m not here, in the shaft. I’m there. There, in the field with my family. This is how it should have been. My childhood. What would I have become, if it had been like this? Red petals float in the air around us, drifting in the warm breeze. Zhilee wants me to catch them. I reach out. My hands leave the rung. I turn to chase the petals. I’m falling, falling.
“Tib!”
Pain. Pain as my head cracks hard against the floor. Pain splinters from my ankle to my knee. My chest aches. I gasp for the breath that was knocked out of me. I blink into Mevyn’s dim light. My vision is closing up, blurring and blackening.
Someone is laughing. Laughing hard. Mocking. Not Mevyn. The shadow. The darkness.
“Can’t hurt him. That’s what you said, isn’t it?” The laughing echoes. “Don’t underestimate me, Mevyn. You will fail. You and your pathetic champion. I’ll leave you now, to watch him die.”
Something in the air shifts, and even through my pain I can feel it. Heaviness lifted. Darkness brighter. The shadow has gone. I try to look to make sure, but my range is too narrow, like I’m looking through a tunnel. My head won’t turn. My neck aches. My leg. I close my eyes. I want to die. Death would be better than this pain.
“Tib. Stay awake. Talk to me.” Mevyn says silently. Like one of his commands. My head feels like it will split open. I try to obey.
“What?” my whisper rattles. It hurts to breathe.
“Talk to me,” Mevyn orders. “Don’t fall asleep.”
“Talk?”
“Yes,” he says desperately. “Ask me a question. Any question.”
“Who was that?”
“Dreamwalker,” he seethes.
“Who is—?” I cough painfully. Taste something on my lips. Something sticky. Lick it away. It tastes like metal. Like blood. My lungs are burning. Filling up.
“That’s not his name, it’s what he is. A Dreamwalker. We are old rivals. It’s a long story,” Mevyn says. He starts to tell me. I try hard to follow but I can’t focus. His voice is too far away. The pain is too much. My leg is broken, I know it. I can’t move my neck. My chest is rattling.
“Stay with me."
Nobody knows I’m here. Nobody except the thugs. They’ll find me. I’ll die here. I’ll die, like the shadow said. Nobody will know. Nobody will care.
“Stay with me!”
Stay. I can’t. I’m fading away. Falling away. I can’t help it. I drift off.
When I wake up, I don’t know where I am. Don’t remember how I got here. I can’t move except to open my eyes. Everything else is too painful. There’s a shaft above me with rungs going up. Someone was with me, but now they’re gone. Something twinkles beside me. Something small and jeweled. A box, I think. Otherwise, I’m alone. Utterly. In the dark. In the dirt. My breath comes in short gasps. My mouth is dry. My tongue is crusted. Stuck to my teeth. I need water. It’s like the roots all over again. What roots, I wonder, and then I remember. I try to calm myself, but the panic takes me over. My head feels light. The room spins. My eyes close. I black out.
The sound of wood scraping on wood wakes me. Creaking. A beam of light splashes down the shaft. I squint into it. My heart races. Someone from up there will hurt me if they find me. Could they really? I’m already in more pain than anyone should be. Maybe they’ll kill me. Relieve me. I hear a pair of feet on rungs. Another. Whispers.
“How can you be sure?” a male voice asks. It sounds familiar.
“Trust me, okay? I just have a feeling.” A girl. My heart thumps. Saesa.
“We shouldn’t be in here, it’s private property!” Another girl.
“Then wait outside, Lilen, for crying out loud.” The boy again. I know him. Raefe.
“By myself? No way. Look. Look at this.” The other girl. Lilen.
“Saesa, wait for us. Whoa, is that blood? Look at all of it.” Raefe.
“I’m not going down there. You shouldn’t, either. We should get the guard.” Lilen.
“No, he’s down here, I know it. He’s alive.” Saesa’s voice is nearing. I hear her feet on the rugs, coming closer. I remember being up there. Remember something else. The shadow. I try to shout up to her to warn her, but my voice is too weak. It comes out as a croak. My throat is too dry. My chest aches. My tongue is hard and dry, like a desert stone.
“How do you know? What if this is his blood? What if he’s—?”
“Shut up, Lilen,” Raefe interrupts, annoyed. “Just wait here.” I hear his feet on the rungs. They don’t talk on their way down. They just climb.
“They’re coming. Don’t move. You’re safe now.”
Yes, they’ll be here soon. I’m safe now. I’m safe. I close my eyes. My head hurts too much to keep them open. They finally make it to the bottom. Saesa cries out. Drops to her knees beside me. I’m too afraid to open my eyes. Too afraid that something got her.
“Oh, Tib,” she whispers. Liquid is poured into my mouth, cool and soothing. Cleansing. I feel it go all the way down. It takes the edge off of my pain.
“Water,” I whisper, and Saesa cries out with relief.
“Water, Raefe, can he have it with this potion?”
“Yeah, it’s just a pain draught. The other one’s the healing one. He can drink all he wants. But look at him, Saesa. Potions aren’t going to do much. He’s going to need a real healer. He’s a mess. Tib, can you hear me?”
I open my eyes. Try to nod. My neck is stiff but the pain is going away. I feel like I’m floating. “Ugh,” I manage.
“I’ll stay here with him,” Saesa says. “Go get someone. We can’t move him, he’s too hurt.”
I want to warn them. Tell her no, that the shadow could come back, that she could be in danger if she stays, but I can’t. The draught has made my eyelids heavy. My mouth won’t form the words. But the pain, the pain is gone. Gone. The two have a discussion, and they’re all the way down the tunnel again. Echoes of voices all run together. Feet on rungs again, going up. Saesa’s hand gingerly on my shoulder.
“What was he doing down here, Mevyn? How did he fall?” she asks after the hatch closes above us and we’re alone. Mevyn. I remember him.
“Dark magic,” Mevyn replies. “Deception. Now that you have found him, I will ask, for my protection and yours, that you allow me to make you forget. You will not remember me. You will not see me again. You will go with Tib, if he asks you to. Do you understand why, Saesa?”
“Of course,” Saesa says. Her voice is distant. Strange. I wonder if mine sounds like that when Mevyn asks me to agree to forget. I open my eyes and watch. Mevyn has his hands on her face. He looks deep into her eyes. Streams of golden light curl from them like smoke from a campfire into his. Like he’s collecting memories. I close my eyes before he sees me watching. I drift back to sleep.
When I wake up, I’m tucked comfortably into my bed at the Ganvent Manse. I scoot up a little stiffly against my pillows. Take a drink from the water cup on my bedside table. Saesa’s curled in the chair beside me, sound asleep. I look outside. Midday. Snowing again. I sit cross-legged. Think back. Remember. Surprisingly, I remember all of it. Even Mevyn. I shrug my shoulders. Bend my knees. Wriggle my toes inside my boots. I slept in my boots. I always do. Everything is sore, but nothing’s broken. I’m hurting, but not like before.
Was it a dream, all of it? Was it real?
“It was real.”
Yes, it was real. I pat my pockets. Search for the doll. Margy’s baby. Twig’s tether. I made a promise.
“I burned it already,” Mevyn says.
In the chair beside me, Saesa stirs. Opens her eyes. Flashes of green. Jungle green. Jewel green. They warm me.
“You’re awake,” she says with relief. “How are you feeling?”
I tell her I’m okay, and she tells me Lilen spelled me with levitate to get me out. Raefe brought a healer to weave my insides back together. They bound me to Raefe’s back to carry me home. I slept for a whole day. Nessa thinks I fell out of an icy tree. Princess Margy sent us an invitation. By the time she’s finished, I’m exhausted again. I sleep through the afternoon, until I’m roused by a gentle touch on my cheek. A soft hand. It smoothes my hair back. Rests gently on my chest.
“Tib,” the voice is pretty. Soft. Concerned. I know this voice. Nessa. I open my eyes. Look at her.
“You’re crying,” I say. She nods. Smiles through her tears. I wonder what’s made her cry. She’s usually so strong. I think of ships. Her husband. Something must have happened to him. “The Admiral?” At first she looks puzzled, then she laughs softly.
“No word on him, Tib, but I was certainly worried for you. What in seven stars were you thinking, out in the middle of the night, climbing trees?”
I shrug. Wince a little. Still sore. She watches me.
“Boys.” She rolls her eyes. Shakes her head. “Come here.” She holds her arms open like I’ve seen her do with the others. I sit up. Let her hug me. It feels nice. Warm. I let her hug me for a while. Hug her back a little. She sniffles. “Promise me no more climbing in the middle of the night. Okay?”
“Okay, Nessa,” I say. It feels nice, but strange to have someone care about me. Cry over me. She just keeps hugging, and eventually I wriggle away.
Garsi calls for her, and Nessa gives me one last squeeze before she goes out to get her. I sit back against my pillows. My head is clearer now. For the first time in a while, I feel like my thoughts are my own.
I look around the room. My room. I never really looked at it before. The furniture is fine, and the walls are sturdy and safe. It’s almost as big as our whole house in the dye fields. Higher up, too. No bugs. No sand. I’m used to the bed now. I like it. I don’t know how I slept on the mats for so long. I don’t think I could go back to that. This could be my home now.
The vision that the shadow, no, Dreamwalker gave me is still vibrant in my memory. Looking back on it, I realize how foolish it was for me to think it could be real. It can never be. Nan is dead. Zhilee is dead. Viala is gone. She’s forgotten us. Forsaken us. Got herself into trouble. Stripped, Saesa said. Disappeared.
A shimmer on my down covers catches my eye. I watch it as it flashes and brightens and Mevyn emerges, broad and strong.
“I remember you,” I whisper.
“I know I can trust you now. You passed the test.”
I sit up. Drink some water. Think.
“Test?” I ask.
“Of sorts,” Mevyn says. “It needed to be done, and I couldn’t have done it without you, but you’ve proved your courage and your loyalty. Your trustworthiness.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You and I are paired by circumstance. Forced together. Bonded by our strife. That connection bears power. It’s how we were able to leave Sunteri. How I was able to aid you in our journey so that you could carry me here. You are my champion, and I am your guide. We chose each other, and we were chosen for each other. And after our encounter with the Dreamwalker, I have faith in you. You were strong.”
“Strong?” I scoff and sink back against my pillows. “I wasn’t strong. I believed what he showed me. I thought it was real. I let go. I could have died. I wanted to.”
“If you had any idea,” Mevyn settles in my palm, “just how powerful he is, just how wicked, you would not be ashamed. You would be proud of yourself. As proud as I am.”
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure what to say. Between him and Nessa, it’s too much. Too much kindness. It makes me uncomfortable. Happy, but I feel undeserving.
“You have an invitation from the princess.” Mevyn drifts over to my bedside table and lands beside a folded page sealed with purple wax and a gold ribbon.
“Yeah.”
“Go,” Mevyn says. “Tell her about Twig. Ask her for help. We must go to Kythshire and find him, like you promised.”
“By myself?” I push myself out of bed. I’m a little stiff, a little weak, but the pain is gone. I cross to my cabinet. Look for something fancy to wear.
“I cannot enter the palace grounds,” Mevyn explains as he flies to hover beside me. “They’re too protected. It would reveal me. I must remain a secret.”
“But what about Twig? He goes around the palace. Nobody sees him.” I find a white shirt with lace on the cuffs. Wrinkle my nose. Put it on. Cover it with a deep blue jacket. Shove the ridiculous lace up into the sleeves.
“He must have found a way around it, for the princess,” Mevyn says. “Or perhaps it allows for the Kythshire fae. Sunteri magic is different.”
“How did you know,” I ask, “that he was trapped down there? How did you know where to find him?”
“Once I knew what to look for, it wasn’t difficult. A stolen tether, a doll. Tethers hold strong magic. They’re always calling out. If you’re quiet enough, you can hear them. We can, that is. Fairies.”
“How did you open it?” I search through a folded stack of pants for a pair that hasn’t been torn from my climbing and patched up by Maisie or Nessa. I find some in the bottom of the pile. Pull them on.
“It was locked on the outside by magic. Wards bolstered by riches. Man’s magic. Magework. Twig couldn’t get it open, he’s a fairy.”
“But you’re a fairy, and you could open it.”
“Because I had you, a man. You wanted it open, with good intention. See? We worked together. Alone, I couldn’t have done it. Neither could you, unless you were a Mage. It required a pairing.”
I still don’t understand, but I’m shaking and sweaty from the effort of dressing and trying to make sense of Mevyn’s explanations. My stomach growls. It’s been empty for over a day. There was a time when I was used to that. I could go a couple of days without a scrap. Now I have three meals and snacks between, if I want them. I wonder how I used to survive.
Nessa’s happy to see me downstairs, dressed and eating. She’s not happy when I tell her I’m going to the palace. She doesn’t think I’m well enough yet. She convinces me to wait for Saesa. I’m not sure if that’s okay.
“It’s fine,” Mevyn says, so I wait for her to get back from training, and we go together to the palace as the sun sets.
At the gate I show them the invitation. They nod us through with no trouble. Collect our weapons for safekeeping. This time, I feel Mevyn’s absence as soon as I cross through the gate. I walk nearer to Saesa as a page escorts us to the indoor garden, just to fill that empty gap. Saesa’s eyes are wide as dinner plates. She doesn’t sit where we’re invited to. She walks around, sniffing flowers and touching things she probably shouldn’t. Taking it all in. Examining things in a way I wouldn’t think to. We don’t have to wait long. Margy runs to us. I try to bow, but she dives at me. Hugs me. Hugs Saesa. Cerion is big on hugs.
There’s a different guard watching us today. Sterner. His name is Thurle. He takes his duties seriously. Posts himself no farther than an arm’s length from the princess. That makes it hard to talk, but Margy is clever. More clever than I am.
“Let’s play pretend,” she says. “I am a fairy princess, and I’m asleep. You are brave explorers, and you come and wake me.” I don’t like this. I’m no good at pretend. There was no time for it in the field. It makes me feel awkward.
Margy lies down on the grass and plays at sleeping. Saesa and I kneel beside her.
“Look, we’ve found a fa
iry!” Saesa declares. “Wake up, little fairy.” Margy sits up. Stretches.
“Oh, I was dreaming,” the princess gives an elegant yawn. “What a lovely dream. It was about my dear friend, Twig.”
Margy nods at me. I shift uncomfortably and glance at Thurle. He doesn’t show any signs of hearing, but I know he’s listening.
“I dreamed he was safe in his home,” Margy goes on. “I was so happy. You see, he was lost, and I was so very worried. But now I know that he’s safe, and I’m so very happy. Now, we shall dance!” She takes Saesa’s hand and mine, and dances around in a circle. Tirie snaps her fingers in the doorway, and two musicians appear from who knows where and start to play.
“Princess,” I whisper as we twirl, “you’re right. He is safe. He told me—”
“Play louder!” Margy shouts happily. The musicians do. Thurle and Tirie watch on, glad to see their princess in such good spirits. My weak limbs and aching head protest, but I keep on letting her pull me along. “Go on,” she whispers.
“He told me to come and find him,” I say. “In Kythshire.”
“I know,” says Margy. “He told me in my dream. I made arrangements already. I have them waiting for you.” She lets go of my hand and falls back into the grass, laughing. Saesa and I tumble down, too.
“And now,” the princess says dramatically, “I shall send you on a quest! Go and seek out Twig, who wishes to repay you for your kindness. Bring him this.” She reaches into her pocket and produces a bracelet woven of ribbons and pearls. Gives it to me. “Go now, brave adventurers.” She leans in closer to me and whispers, “I’ll send along the rest of the things later. You’ll go, won’t you? To Kythshire?” I glance at Saesa, who’s just as wide-eyed as before.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Do you need men?” she asks. “Horses?”
Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) Page 11