Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2)

by Missy Sheldrake

  “Yes, it was he.” Twig watches me closely. “You know the why of it.”

  “What have you seen, Azaeli?” Crocus asks. All around us the fairies lean closer, encroaching on the ring. Scree rumbles a little and they give a little space before I go on.

  I tell them what Jacek showed me, all of the people he touched and manipulated. I tell them about the boy I saw, being left by his parents. How he controlled me and clouded my mind and manipulated me. Finally, I tell them about my vows.

  “I promised that I would speak for the fallen Sunteri fae. They’re so weak, so hopeless and miserable. They live in fear every moment. They need their place, they need to be restored,” I tell Crocus.

  “We already made a bargain to that end,” Crocus says. “Mevyn was to return you to us, and then we would aid in the restoration of their Wellspring. But he failed. You returned to us on your own. He had no part in it.”

  “Mevyn.” I think back. “He was at the Wellspring when Jacek touched it as a baby. He tried to stop him, and when he couldn’t, he sent them away.”

  “We know this,” Crocus says. “Oren has shown us. Mevyn has stumbled along his path more than once, and now he has failed in his agreement with us. He has failed to redeem himself.”

  “You can see what the Oren has seen?” Saesa interjects, and ducks her head right away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Crocus looks to me. For a moment I’m not sure why, but then I realize it was my turn for a question.

  “It’s all right,” I say. I’m curious about what Saesa asked, too.

  “Yes.” Crocus answers. She closes her eyes slowly. “The Guardians watch our borders, gathering information. Each of them is connected to us, to Scree, through the stones and soil and earth. They send their thoughts to us, that we may be aware of incoming threats.

  “This way we are always aware of our security, or lack thereof. For example just now, on the Western border coastline, Aren, the Golden Coast embodied, the Sand Keeper, Esteemed Guardian of the Western border, Watcher of the West, Spirit of the Tides, sees a ship passing by. We can see it clearly in our mind’s eye. It poses no threat. It respects our sea borders.” She looks at me and smiles. “What was your second promise, Azaeli?”

  Shame and self-loathing settle in the pit of my stomach like a heavy stone. I don’t want to tell them, but I know I have to. I’ve betrayed them with this promise. I’ve forsaken myself. When I tell them, I know they’ll never see me the same way again. How can I remain their Champion, their Ambassador, when I’ve promised to defile the one thing they hold sacred?

  “I was weak against him,” I lower my head and look away from them. “He had such a wicked way of making everything seem right, of making me want to please him. I needed him. I needed him, and nothing else mattered.” I shake my head. “He asked me to touch it, just once. To dip my fingers into the Wellspring and see how it feels.” I close my eyes against the tears that brim in them. I could be alone in a meadow, it’s so quiet. “I agreed.” I wait for the eruption of anger and disbelief, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Crocus speaks.

  “But it was not a binding promise, Azaeli,” she says quietly. “He believes it was, but you were not speaking to him at the time, were you? Do not be troubled. Do not be ashamed of your weakness. This threat is unlike any we have seen.

  “It has been foreseen that you shall one day touch the Wellspring. That is certain. But not today. Not while the Dreamwalker looms. Today, you must display your bravery, your temperate heart. You must bolster yourself against this evil. You must face him again and this time, overcome. Prove to yourself that you are not weal, that you are the Champion we believe you to be.”

  I don’t know what to say. Crocus’s faith in me is obviously stronger than my faith in myself. Behind me, Saesa sniffles. When I turn to her she smiles at me. I take her in, really look at her for the first time. She’s nearly as tall as I am, with a finely made sword at her belt. Her armor is new and perfect, though studded leather is meant for a novice.

  I realize where I’ve seen her face before. We passed each other often in the halls of the Arms guild. I see the hope in her eyes and the hunger that comes with the desire to prove oneself. I see all of the things I felt when I was her age, looking ahead to the future, wanting nothing more than to become a squire and one day a knight.

  “Stand by me,” I say to her. “Unless someone else has already sponsored you. Stand by me and be my squire. Come with me to the Dreaming.”

  Her eyes widen with shock and disbelief, and then her actions surprise me. She looks at Crocus and the fairies beyond, and then she bows her head and hides her face. At first I think she’s crying, but she shakes her head and takes a deep breath. She looks up at me, straight into my eyes, and I fall into hers the way I fell into Stubs’s. She shows me the other side of it. Her side, with images and words that rush into my mind.

  “When I was very young, three or four years perhaps, my mother fell ill. It came on suddenly one day. She went blank and vacant. She couldn’t speak or move. She only sat there, gazing off. Sometimes she would be gripped by terrors that made her scream. Other times, she would sob for hours.

  “Our father was traveling when the illness began, and so it fell to my brother Raefe to be our caretaker. He was young, just six years old, but he was capable. He went out into the streets of Cerion and begged. He kept our bellies full. It was then that the nightmares started. They plagued us so much that we would wake nearly every night, screaming.

  “I remember always being frightened, always terrorized by these threats and dark thoughts that plagued us. It went on for years, and Father never returned. One day when I was five and Raefe was eight, too sad to go out, we were visited by a creature. A fairy who shined with golden light. He worked magic over us, protecting us. He brought us peace. It was too late for Mother, though. Her suffering had gone on too long. Her madness consumed her, even after Mevyn pulled the darkness out of her.

  “And so we went to live with Nessa, who loved us as a mother loves her children, and who provided for us in ways we never would have otherwise been cared for. She kept us safe. She found a safe place for Mother, too.”

  She shows me shining white warriors, beautiful and lithe, with striking faces and long, pointed ears. Elves.

  “I didn’t know until I arrived here. I had forgotten about all of it. Even my mother. Her name is Evelie. She lives with the elves. She has red hair, just like me. I didn’t know until the Oren showed me, and even then I didn’t understand why. What was this darkness that plagued us? Why did our father abandon us?

  Oren showed me the truth. The dark threat was my father’s son. Not Raefe, no. Father had a child before us, with a different mother. A Sorceress. Her jealousy of my father’s new family, her dark thoughts and hatred bled through to her son. He saw how the knowledge of our family destroyed her. He had powers unlike any other, even from a young age.

  “He lashed out at us across the miles. He inflicted the same suffering his mother felt on my mother. He was young. He didn’t understand. But as he grew, so did his power. Soon, nobody could stop his wicked heart. His mother tried to tame him, and so did his father. My father. They came to realize there was no hope in controlling him, so they sent him away. They trapped him in another realm.”

  The memory burns bright in my mind’s eye, the one Stubs showed me only yesterday. The man and woman covered by the Mark, standing in the meadow. The boy they left behind, sobbing in the tall grass.

  “They bound him there with a blood oath,” Saesa continues. “Blood of the father and mother. His imprisonment can only be ended when one who shares his bloodline comes to the Dreaming to seek him out. Only then can the bindings be undone. So you see, I can’t go with you. If I do, I risk setting my half-brother free.”

  Her handling of this knowledge surprises and impresses me. I have so many questions for her, but there isn’t time now. She’s right. She can’t come with me. If she did, Jacek would certainly find a w
ay to use her. We have no way of knowing whether Mevyn’s protection would extend into Jacek’s kingdom.

  “Sometimes, the bravest act is restraint,” I say to her with a smile. “When I return, I’ll have a squire to rival every squire in Cerion.” She bows her head again, grinning.

  “Azaeli, time is short as you said. Unless you have another question, we suggest that you be on your way.” Crocus says.

  “Just two more,” I think for a moment. “Quickly. You said that Mevyn failed to bring me back, but if he does this time, will that fulfill his end of the bargain?”

  “Yes. Is there anything we might provide to you, in order to aid you on your quest?”

  “My diamond. Flitt’s tether. Do you have it?” My hand goes to the empty pouch again.

  “Dabble?” Crocus calls, and Dabble appears right at my feet.

  “Here you are. Good as new, with a few improvements as I saw necessary. Flitt knows all about them.” He holds the sparkling gem up to me. It’s as big as my head in my shrunken state.

  “Thank you,” I take it carefully and tuck it under my arm, then turn to Saesa, my squire. “Be safe,” I say. “I won’t be long.”

  “Oh, Saesa and I shall have a great game of questions together, I think,” Crocus smiles. I’m sure she’s right. Being one of Nessa Ganvent’s charges, I’m certain my new squire will be a fountain of information for those here. I shake my head.

  “Be careful,” I say to her, and then lean in to whisper, “fairies are tricky.”

  “I will,” she giggles. “You be careful, too.”

  On my other side, Twig offers me a gentlemanly arm. I slip my hand into the crook of his elbow and he grins at me.

  “Ready for adventure?” he winks. The crowd beyond the mushrooms slowly blurs as the gathering of fairies starts to dance again.

  “Let’s go,” I say urgently. The prospect of going back into the Dreaming doesn’t appeal to me in the least, but for Rian, for Flitt, I don’t hesitate.

  “Close your eyes,” he places a hand over mine as I do, and the ground beneath our feet falls away. I feel myself bobbing and floating carefree, like an autumn leaf carried by a lazy breeze. It floats us gently away from the Ring. The dancing and singing fade, replaced by a different melody, quiet and slow. An underlying, pleasant hum is flecked with a higher timber, a rustle.

  “What is that sound?” I ask him as our feet find the ground again.

  “Keep your eyes closed and listen,” Twig says. “See if you can figure it out.”

  “Are we here? In the Dreaming?” The hum fades a little as I speak.

  “Yes. Shh. Listen,” he whispers.

  After a moment of quiet, the strange music grows louder. To me, it sounds like the low thrum of heartbeats, dozens of them, and the higher sound of whispering. I can’t make out what the whispers are saying; there are too many of them. Still, the effect is beautiful and peaceful. It’s an ancient song, played long before my time and one that will continue into eternity. I feel both a part of it and a stranger to it. It brings me comfort and reassurance. This song has always been here, and it always will be.

  “Now, open your eyes.” Twig whispers.

  We’re in the midst of the bright forest, where trees tower over us, thick and strong. In the canopy high above us, leaves rustle and whisper in the breeze. The great trunk beside me seems to vibrate with its own contribution to the hum. I stare in disbelief at Twig.

  “The trees are singing?” I whisper.

  “They always sing,” he laughs. “You just never heard them before.” He places a hand on the root in front of him. Pats it lovingly.

  “Why can I hear them now?”

  “I gave you a gift. I thought it would be helpful,” Twig grins. He closes his eyes again. The stick-like wings at his back open and close slowly. “Listen,” his whisper is filled with affection. I kneel beside him and rest my hand on the same root.

  I don’t hear anything, but I imagine Rian and Flitt walking through these very woods, past this very tree. With them are a boy with black hair, a golden fairy, and Ki with her bow out and ready. The group pushes through the underbrush and slowly disappears behind a tree with an oddly bent trunk. The hum of the trees vibrates through me. I wait for something, some words or direction, but I’m too impatient. I want to find them now. They’re here, looking for me. They’ve placed themselves in danger to find me.

  “Thank you!” Twig says brightly. “There you go, Azi! They went through there.” I look off to the distance, where Twig is pointing. Sure enough, there’s the same bent tree that I imagined them walking past.

  “So you’re saying I can talk to trees now?” I ask incredulously.

  “Just for a little while. What else? Oh!” He waves a hand at me and I start to grow. The diamond tucked under my arm remains the same, until it fits neatly in the palm of my hand. Twig flies up to perch beside it. “Better put that away. I think that’s everything, right? I’ve got to get to Margy before she wakes up. She’s napping, you see.”

  “Of course,” I say. “Thank you for everything. Really. Are you sure you’ll be safe?”

  “I think so, as long as I don’t linger past nightfall. Good luck!” With little warning at all, he darts off into the trees, leaving me alone in the Dreaming.

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Viala’s Legacy

  Azi

  Perhaps because I’ve entered on my own terms this time, the Dreaming feels different. I have my sword and my armor, I don’t feel defenseless or alone. I keep my wits as I push through the thick woods with a purpose, pausing from time to time to rest my hand on the rough bark of a tree and listen. Their songs are a constant companion to me, guiding me along a path I couldn’t see before.

  The Dreaming is so much vaster than I had imagined. Now that I’m here without Jacek’s influence, I see it differently. It’s a beautiful place, filled with many wonders. Tiny fae dragons, bright-colored lizard-like creatures with wings that sparkle in the sun, weave and dart playfully around me as I walk. Unicorns and cygnets graze in distant meadows. I curb my curiosity of these creatures and focus on the trees. The sun is halfway to noon. I need to find the others before nightfall.

  The trees guide me to the same meadow where I met Stubs on my previous visit. The grass is taller today, and the breeze too soft to bend it into waves. When I crouch among the blades, they stretch up over my head. I weave a frond around my fingers and try to listen to it, but my listening skills are apparently limited to trees and not grass. Still, the trees did lead me here…

  When I stand again, my heart sinks. The meadow is endlessly vast. They could have gone in any direction searching for me. It would take hours to exhaust every option. I don’t have that much time. I remember what Stubs told me. Time moves differently here. I hope he meant that it’s slower.

  “Listen to your heart,” someone mutters nearby. A patch of grass rustles just a few steps ahead. I unclasp my sword and slide it from its sheath.

  “Who’s there?” I raise my weapon at the ready. After last time, I’m not taking any chances.

  “But she looks different today, all in her armor, with her sword, too. She’s ready for a fight.”

  “Stubs?” I peer into the grass and catch the flash of an amber eye. With a huff, I turn on my heel and storm past him.

  “Where is she going?”

  “Away from you,” I snap. I don’t need his tricks today. I won’t let him lure me in.

  “Oh, but she is angry. Angry with Stubs?” He follows beside me in the grass, huffing and bobbing to keep up with my quick strides. I try to ignore him as I scan the vast field, but he just keeps talking. “Had to do it, had to. Not just had to, wanted to. Wanted to help her. I did! See? I gave her a gift. She can see minds now, can’t she? That was no trick. I helped her. Dreamwalker made it seem like his idea, but no. It was mine. He wanted her not to trust me. He wanted her to be angry with me, so she would leave me and need him more.”

  “I don’t have time to argue with you or fig
ure out the truth,” I turn, searching for any small sign of a group passing through. There’s nothing. Not even a bent blade of grass. It’s useless searching here, so I start back toward the trees.

  “She’s looking for her friends. She won’t find them in the meadow.” Stubs blinks up at me and I pause.

  “You know where they are?”

  “I showed them…”

  “What? What did you show them, Stubs?”

  “Showed the gold fairy. Mevyn, he’s called,” he watches me eagerly as he speaks. “They all saw what I saw: Dreamwalker wrapping her in his cloak, taking her away. They went to rescue her. I hoped they would succeed, but now she’s back again.”

  All I can think of is Rian seeing me in that memory, falling into Jacek’s arms, gazing up at the Dreamwalker with a hunger that should only ever be reserved for him. My eyes burn with tears.

  “He saw, and he still went to search for me?” I whisper.

  “Mmm. They went to the castle.” He twists his grubby hands, sending a cascade of soil to the ground. “I was trying to help. I didn’t want her to be in danger.”

  “How do I get there, Stubs? Please.”

  “I already said. Follow your heart. But she should put away her sword first, probably.” The grass at his back shivers as he nods.

  He looks earnest enough, but I still don’t trust him.

  “So, what you’re telling me is to stow my sword and head straight into the danger unprepared?”

  His eyes widen and his jaw drops open. “Oh, that’s what it sounds like to her, isn’t it? No, no. That isn’t my intention at all.”

  “What is your intention, then, Stubs?” I ask, growing increasingly annoyed.

  “Ten years, Lady Knight. Ten years he has terrorized us. We want him stopped, and never have we met someone before who we believed in as much. And her friends are here, too. She can stop him. We would never sabotage that. We want our lands back. Our peace. The previous Dreamwalker, he kept to his own. Never ventured here. This one, he thinks he owns everything he sees. He thinks he can do whatever he likes. All for his pleasure, and we are too weak to stop him.”