Prince of Dreams

by Pippa Dacosta

  I had to help him, but my helping would only distract him. He whirled and ducked, cut back a step, and punched into the ferocious attacks, moving with a fluid grace I hadn’t known was physically possible. I’d seen Talen fight. He had always been sharp and quick, a forged blade wrapped in fae, but Sirius moved as though this were a dance and he knew the steps before his attackers did, and with every blow he delivered his flames roared higher, brighter, hotter.

  An arrow plunged into the tree trunk beside me and strummed, stuck fast. I’d lost sight of the first cu sith, but it hadn’t lost sight of me. Climbing around the trunk, I searched for the marksman through the leaves.

  Another arrow zinged past, missing me by a whisker. I dropped from the tree, landed in a crouch, and looked up to see the cu sith striding toward me. His naked form was streaked with black, camouflaging him into the background, but his eyes glowed orange. He lifted his longbow, nocked an arrow, and drew the string back.

  Sirius slammed into him from the side, knocking them both into a messy heap. A cu sith leaped onto his back and clamped its jaws around his neck from behind. The guardian’s flame flared, and the cu sith whimpered back, but the flame spluttered and the cu sith were on him again. He pirouetted on the spot, ducked, and threw one beast over his head. It slammed into the tree hard enough to rattle off a few leaves and frighten the roosting wisps into the air.

  The sound of thundering feet pulled me around. The cu sith in wolf form leaped. I saw its mouth open and its teeth sparkle. I didn’t think, just reacted. I flung out a hand. Heat and pressure swelled inside as it had in the carriage, and I let it flow. The blast of light might have been the same as the one that had hit Sirius and healed his hand, only this time, the dark outline of the cu sith exploded, splashing me with hot, glittery fae dust.

  I blinked, heard a gurgling snarl, and spun, unleashing the light onto the second nearest cu sith. Its hulking hound-like body exploded, smothering Sirius in a cloud of sparkling dust.

  The third cu sith bolted. Old arena instincts had me starting after it.

  Sirius collapsed to his knees and swayed. The strain in his eyes was clear, and now that my light had faded, I saw how his flames had faded too, leaving dripping blood behind.

  “How bad are you hurt?” I asked.

  He shrank away from my reaching hand and staggered to his feet. “There is a cavern nearby…” He stumbled but stayed upright. “Ailish is there. There, I will heal.”

  He staggered and stumbled into the bushes, carving his own path and leaving a layer of glittery cu sith ash and blood on every leaf he brushed past.

  I followed his wavering figure through the bushes. I had healed his tek hand in the carriage, but I’d also just turned two cu sith into fae dust. Until I learned how to control the light and what it meant, I couldn’t blame him for recoiling.

  We eventually approached a cavern mouth tucked into a rich green gully lit from inside by a bluish glow. Sirius hobbled inside. I followed apprehensively and admired the strings of glowing water droplets dangling from the ceiling. As Sirius and I passed beneath and between them, the blue water soaked into my clothes and hair. I’d expected the water to be cold, but the drops were warm and tingly, reminding me of the cool, tingly touch of a Calicto med-wipe. The water likely had healing properties.

  Ahead, Sirius lowered himself gingerly against the cavern wall. Lifting his face to the droplets, he closed his eyes and left the water drip-drip onto his dirt-and-blood-smudged skin.

  I ventured a few steps deeper into the cavern.

  “Go too far and the cavern will swallow you,” he called.

  The naturally formed passage opened into an enormous cathedral-like cave, lit by glowing threads of healing water sitting static on fine, hair-thick threads. It was magical… so what was the catch? There was always a catch to places like this. The passage dove deeper underground, beckoning me to venture inside. If I explored it alone, I’d likely never find my way out again. Paths and corridors could move. I suspected underground caverns could as well.

  Minutes later, I returned to Sirius’s side. His eyes were closed, but his chest rose and fell steadily. We had no time to waste, but the cu sith had torn him to shreds. He was in no condition to move. I could allow a few hours. Hopefully, Night would wait a little longer.

  I propped myself against the wall next to him and enjoyed the quiet, with just the occasional dripping echoing back and forth.

  When we made Eledan whole again, and when he revealed the location of the four pieces of the polestar, Sirius would leave my side in search of the remaining three fragments. But I would not be alone. Eledan would take his place. I knew whose company I’d prefer. Sirius hadn’t tortured me for months on end.

  I’d made a deal to be Eledan’s.

  It had to be the right thing. How else could I free the saru from lives spent in servitude? Even if I’d had Kellee and Talen at my side, we could not break their chains. It took someone like Eledan, someone with power and influence, someone who the fae admired, to make real and lasting changes. I’d seeded the defiance. The rest, when the time came, the saru would have to take for themselves. I hoped it worked; otherwise, I’d be bound to Eledan for nothing and that was not a thought I wanted to dwell on. Whatever happened, the Dreamweaver would be free and so would the saru. And then what part would I play?

  I touched my chest, over a renewed ache. I’d always known I existed at time’s whim. A mortal surrounded by the immortal was reminded of it every day. But what became of a piece of polestar once it was reunited with its other pieces?

  There was so much I didn’t know.

  “Time is a fickle thing.”

  A female fae dressed in translucent blues stood with her back to me, staring down at the shallow cavern pools. Her long, thin ears tapered to high points, unlike any I’d seen on a fae before. Her skin was milky white, her shoulders fine, and her gown made of the same threads that dangled from the cavern ceiling. I blinked at her and then at Sirius, who hadn’t moved, and back again. She was real, wasn’t she? As real as any of Faerie’s creatures anyhow.

  “It rushes like a torrent or burbles like a brook. Would you ask for more of it if you could, mortal saru?”

  She still hadn’t turned. Her voice was a musical chime of soft bells. When the wild things of Faerie spoke, you answered.

  “It would depend on the price.” My saru words sounded clunky in the quiet compared to the musicality of hers.

  She chuckled at my answer. “You are a careful thing.”

  “I have learned to be.”

  “You came for the prince’s body.”

  Sirius still slept. I dropped my hand and snuck it toward his. He would know what this creature was and how to deal with it.

  “An ancient guardian and a mortal. Such an interesting pair. Tell me, mortal, what would you give to have the prince’s body in your possession?”

  I hooked my little finger around Sirius’s, and then the next finger, until I had his hand in mine. “I have nothing to bargain with.”

  “You think I want to bargain?” That last word cracked and echoed over itself, bouncing off the walls in a wholly unsettling way.

  I gave Sirius’s hand a squeeze. I needed his help, and the stubborn dolt was sleeping. “I’m not sure what to think.”

  “What is my name, mortal?”

  I had no idea. I hadn’t known this place existed until an hour ago, and beings such as her didn’t feature in saru stories. She was Faerie-made and pretty like the sidhe, but she could just as easily be something dark trying to trick me into giving up a year of my life or something equally damaging. If I misspoke, she would likely punish me or Sirius.

  “You reach for your guardian, but he is healing and will not wake unless I bid him to. So, tell me, what is my name?”

  I rose to my feet. If I needed to defend myself, I wanted to be ready. “I was grown to serve the fae and was not taught Faerie’s mysteries. I do not want to offend you by answering incorrectly.”

/>   She sighed and a chill whispered into the cavern. “That is a shame. We are all Faerie’s creatures, even you. Come with me. I will show you what you seek for no other reason than you deserve some goodness in your life…” She turned, keeping her face angled away, and headed deeper into the cavern where I had ventured earlier.

  What did she know of my life?

  There were Earthen tales of fae leading people astray and taking some to Faerie where they were driven insane. I was no foolish, naïve human, but I was vulnerable to their magics. Yet what choice did I have? She spoke of time and knew I didn’t have much left.

  “Sirius!” I gave his leg a swift kick.

  Nothing. Didn’t even stir. Typical.

  I was on my own, about to walk into the depths of a cavern with a fae who likely wanted something from me. They always did.

  “If I screw this up, I’m blaming you…” I grumbled at the guardian and then descended deeper into the dark.

  Chapter 11

  Marshal Kellee

  * * *

  New Calicto looked how I imagined Faerie might. Enormous green- and red-leaved trees clutched the abandoned metal dwellings, slowly crushing all human-made remains inside their roots. Pink and purple vines climbed over the jagged remains of the glass and steel environmental domes, enclosing what had once been a thriving human city in monstrous jaws about to swallow everything whole. All around, magic throbbed to its own heartbeat, and at its center sat the Arcon pyramid, changed into something earthy and magic-touched. The whole place stank of sweet fae. The grass crawled with odd-looking bugs. Pixies called from their hidden burrows. I snarled at the critters, sending them scurrying away. If a wisp came near me, I’d eat the wretched thing as a warning to its many friends not to fuck with an angry vakaru.

  “Say what you will about Calicto, but at least you didn’t have to hold your breath for fear of catching magic off floating dust.”

  “It’s the lifewell,” Talen said, striding down what had once been a residential pathway ahead of me. “In the absence of tek, magic reclaims what belongs to it.” Vines slithered out of his way and branches lifted.

  I hopped over a wriggling thing. A claw shot from a bush, stabbed the magic-worm, and dragged it to its death. Brutal. A shiver tracked down my spine. “Calicto was never fae.”

  “It was due to be,” Talen continued, unfazed. “The seed was planted and the lifewell established, but the First War saw Faerie lose Her grip on the outer worlds and relinquish them to the humans.”

  “There are wells all over, aren’t there?”

  He didn’t answer, which meant yes. Valand had started out the same, as had Sol. What the humans thought of as their precious Earth was nothing more than a Faerie experiment Oberon had been tasked with seeing to fruition. Nothing on Earth belonged to the humans, not really. The protofae had started it all. Was it any wonder the Sol Alliance were worried? They didn’t own their home, and the landlords were clearing house.

  A shadow swept over and swallowed all of Arcon. Our warcruiser limped through the sky and hovered over the pyramid’s point. Something rumbled inside the ship, sounding like thunder, and then a column of greenish light shot upward into the warcruiser’s belly, anchoring it in the sky. Magic throbbed, making my ears pop. Talen’s mouth ticked into a crooked smile.

  “I hate magic,” I grumbled.

  We walked deeper into Calicto and climbed the steps into Arcon. Twinkles of glass shone through the foliage here and there, but had I not seen Arcon before, I would have thought it had always been a jungle-cave. Life magic tingled on my lips and tickled my nose. The same kind of life magic Eledan wielded.

  “Do you know where Eledan kept his personal quarters?” Talen asked. His voice echoed inside the lobby until the vegetation stole it and swallowed it down. Pixies chirped and clicked.

  “Sota has a map of this place.”

  I’d left the drone and Hulia behind to watch the subdued humans on the tek ship, just in case they showed any signs of falling out of love with Talen. I had a comms device behind my ear to stay in communication with Sota. If Sol retook their ship, we’d be stuck on Calicto—an outcome we had to avoid at all costs.

  Talen and I traversed Arcon’s choked corridors until we eventually parted a wall of ivy, revealing a room that didn’t fit with the rest of Arcon. No metal or steel, just rotting wood and books, a bed, and a desk, all of it half buried beneath sweating vines and clicking critters.

  I ran my hand over the books and flicked off bits of moss and debris. Elaborate fae lettering reminded me of the words we’d found iron-poured into the stone on Hapters. “You think he might have left something as valuable as the polestar behind?”

  “He didn’t know Kesh would tear his heart out. The fae took him with no time to plan. This was his sanctuary. It’ll be here.”

  I eyed Talen and watched him approach the desk. He hadn’t given me any reason not to trust him, but he was fae. He made vague and secretive into an art. My art, if I had any, was brute force and integrity. I didn’t do elusive or mysterious.

  I flicked out my claws and sliced the vines draped over the bookcase, finding more of Eledan’s pretty fae books behind. I plucked one out, flicked through its pages, and tossed it onto the bed. A second, the same. Then a third.

  Talen searched the desk, tearing off the Faerie weeds and choking roots and rummaged around inside. We searched until we’d emptied out the room and turned everything upside down.

  Talen threw a rotten wad of papers down. “There’s nothing here.”

  “It would help to know what the polestar pieces look like.”

  He pulled in a breath and swept a hand over his hair, gathering it to one side and twisting the long locks around his fingers. “They can take the shape of anything, even an idea.”

  “That’s the opposite of helpful.”

  “It’s not meant to be helpful. They were never meant to be found by anyone who wasn’t looking for them. You could be holding a piece and not know it, unless you were actively looking for that exact piece at that exact moment.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s Faerie.”

  “Fucking fairies,” I mumbled. He tilted his head. “Not you, obviously.”

  “Valand’s piece is not here. I was sure Eledan had it because of the warning we encountered on Valand. He definitely took it…” He trailed off, gave his head an exasperated shake, then drifted to the window. The ivy peeled back, unveiling the colorful dance of New Calicto drunk on Faerie.

  So, the polestar piece wasn’t here. We had to assume Eledan had it or knew where it was, so that left three pieces to locate. Three tiny pieces that could resemble anything. “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack the size of a galaxy. What do we know, for sure, about these pieces?”

  “Four pieces.” He gripped the windowsill and bowed his head. Frustration beat off him in invisible waves. “One in Faerie, one in Halow, one in Sol, and one in Valand. Kesh is Faerie’s piece. Eledan has or had the Valand piece—we know that from the illusion he left behind. He could have Halow’s too. He spent enough time in Halow to have found it.”

  That meant there were potentially three pieces on Faerie already: Kesh, Valand’s, and Halow’s.

  “And Sol?” I asked.

  He straightened and leaned back against the sill. “Still on Earth, at the heart of the Sol system. Even as resistant to tek as Eledan was, I doubt he could have reached it.”

  I wandered from the bookcases and drifted through the mess we’d made, letting my thoughts grab a hold of an idea and build it piece by piece. I didn’t much like the idea, but it was looking like our only solution. “Do you know where on Earth?”

  “For certain? No. But I have my suspicions. This place is named Arcon.”

  “Meaning?”

  “The first seeds planted on Earth were oak seeds.”

  “Oak seeds? Acorns?”

  He nodded. “Eledan thought it amusing to name this place Arcon. He always knew whe
re the Sol piece is.”

  “It’s an acorn?” One piece of Faerie’s most dangerous weapon was a tiny nut?

  Talen nodded again.

  “On Earth?”

  And again.

  This was impossible. “I’ve never been to Earth, but I know it ain’t exactly small, and I hear they have a few trees there.” The museum planet was covered in forests. What wasn’t forest was ocean. And not much in between. The last piece of the polestar was a nut in a forest the size of a planet?

  “Needle in a haystack…” Talen mumbled, casting his gaze around Eledan’s abandoned sanctuary. “But when it’s being deliberately sought out, it’s easier to find. And given that it’s Faerie magic, it’ll be something prominent and somewhere safe. These things don’t like to stay buried and forgotten. They always resurface.”

  I reached Eledan’s desk. Talen’s search had disturbed the vines. Beneath all the vegetation, a deep crack had snaked through its surface. I ran my hand over it. Something sharp had punctured it, long before the fae had returned and long enough for the crack to fill with dirt and glittering dust.

  “Earth… it is a painful place,” Talen said, watching me. “I tried to reach it during one of my excursions from your prisons, but I found their tek barriers too painful to penetrate. I doubted I’d survive to return through those same barriers.”

  He couldn’t get through. But I could. “It’s about to get worse. They’re building a defense net, like Halow’s, only this one sounds permanent. Soon, nobody will be getting inside Sol, and that polestar piece will be lost to us.”

  I had a human ship—Excalibur—that could sail right through their tek borders.

  I met Talen’s gaze and received the same look in return. He knew where my thoughts were heading.

  But if we went to Sol to find Earth’s polestar fragment, we’d be farther from Faerie, from Kesh when she needed us the most.