World of Aluvia 2

by Amy Bearce

  The girls sat and waited. Phoebe watched the surf, exhilaration tumbling through her. The sun sank closer to the water, and she shivered. Tristan could be speaking to the merfolk right at this very moment, asking them to join in the fight to protect magic on Aluvia—all of Aluvia, land and sea. It could change everything for them. Not everyone would be happy about more change, but for Phoebe, this was the best gift of the sea she could have imagined. It was more than she deserved. She sighed, and it was a happy sound.

  “Are you ever going to tell me everything that happened down there?” Sierra broke the silence with an unexpected question.

  “It doesn’t matter now.” Did it? Could Phoebe stand to relive it?

  “Like it didn’t matter what Bentwood’s people did to you?”

  Fear slithered out of that dark cave in her mind. This time, Phoebe stared right at it. She’d already fought the scariest thing she could imagine and beat it. She wouldn’t let her own memories continue to terrorize her when she had stopped the most powerful sea beast from doing it.

  “Would you like to know about the time at Bentwood’s, then?” Phoebe asked.

  “I would.”

  So Phoebe told her sister everything. The sun dropped below the horizon, and still Phoebe talked. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. Sharing about that dark experience was like letting out a breath she’d been holding for far, far too long. The relief was sweet, like the cool of the ocean on a hot summer day.

  After a long moment of silence, Sierra stroked Phoebe’s hair and said, “I wish you would’ve told me sooner. Maybe it would have helped. I hate that you ran away in part because I didn’t understand.”

  Phoebe took a deep breath as memories flickered by, but they didn’t hurt her heart. Her fear was still there, but it no longer had teeth to bite with. “I couldn’t. That’s all. Just couldn’t. But I guess now I can. Thank you for listening.”

  “Do you regret coming back?” Sierra’s voice was so soft it was nearly impossible to hear.

  Phoebe squeezed Sierra’s hand and whispered, “Of course not. I love you. You are tied to the land, and I’m tied to the sea, but we’ll always be tied to each other.”

  Sierra sniffed and cleared her throat. “Does the sea still call to you, then? Now that you’ve given everything up?”

  Phoebe tilted her head. “It doesn’t compel me, but my love for the sea is still there.”

  “Just for the sea?” Sierra teased.

  Phoebe flushed as Tristan broke the surface of the water. The birds tattooed on his body seemed to fly as his arms swung by his sides. She would never get tired of seeing him walk out of the water, walking to her.

  “Maybe more than just the water.”

  The sisters laughed. Phoebe leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder. All that remained of the day was a pink glow where the ocean kissed the sky. A few gulls still wheeled around and around, giving their melancholy cries. The waves whispered their melodies. Tristan smiled at her as he drew nearer. It was a perfect moment.

  Phoebe let out her breath. For the first time in four years, she could smile at the future.

  Sierra had her magic and her fairies. That was okay.

  Phoebe might not have magic anymore, but she had something much more important.

  Love was its own magic.

  Writing a second book has been even more fun and amazing than the first! More wonderful people have jumped into my life to help make Mer-Charmer the best it can be. I’m forever grateful.

  Before anyone at Curiosity Quills even saw Mer-Charmer, a number of people left their lovely fingerprints on it. My critique partner, author Carol Pavliska, read many versions and kept me going. Faithful beta-reader Lara Barrett gave encouraging feedback on early drafts as well as later ones. Jeannine Johnson Maia has been a wonderful gift this year, giving critically helpful notes. Jeannine’s SCBWI critique group also helped with the opening chapter (thank you Gary and Monica!) Christina Nelson helped me survive my first radio interview for Fairy Keeper and gave feedback on the opening chapters of Phoebe’s story, the hardest part of it all. School librarian Stacy Webb shared her valuable opinions about the characters. And editor Sarah Cloots helped me get the first chapters polished.

  After I submitted to Curiosity Quills, I began another exciting adventure with the wonderful team there! Lisa Gus once again welcomed me as my acquiring editor. Lisa, your faith in me and my stories mean so much to me. A heart-felt thank you to my fantastic editor, author Krystal Wade, who was absolutely instrumental in building Mer-Charmer into the best story it could be. Thank you also to Christina Ferko for proofreading. Amalia Chitulescu knocked another gorgeous cover out of the park―Fairy Keeper’s cover was so beautiful I didn’t think you could make one even better, but you did. Ricky Gunawan took my rough sketch of a map and made it beautiful. Thank you! Other CQ people I’d like to thank include Andrew Buckley, Nikki Tetreault, Clare Dugmore, and Eugene Teplitsky. Thank you, thank you for all your hard work!

  And of course, none of this would be possible without my family. My parents and husband read drafts of Mer-Charmer, but even more importantly, they offered continued love, acceptance, and support. My husband, Jonathan, also worked hard with me on edits for this book, which was great fun to share. My sister and mother-in-law celebrated my first book as well as this second one. And my children, Julia and Keira, have cheered me on always. They are proud to have an author for a mom, and nothing makes me happier than that.

  I’m almost done, but not quite yet. This time, I get to add one more special thanks. That’s to my readers! So very exciting! Thank you for reading both Fairy Keeper and Mer-Charmer, for the delightful reviews and the positive comments! So many wonderful people have contacted me about Fairy Keeper, from adults to teens and tweens. It’s been such an honor to share my writing with you. You asked for me to continue the story of Aluvia. So I did.  Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

  ellwyn Brennan’s tremendous skill with a sword was matched only by her love for it. The sword never lied. Its justice was clear and sharp. Simple, though not always easy. It cleaved through tangled knots of conflict until the only thing left was the swing, the slice, the shine of steel. The sword could most often solve any problem. But not these days, which really got under Nell’s skin.

  The late afternoon sun slanted across her as she hacked and swung her blade in the empty glade, glaring at her invisible opponent. In years past, she envisioned Jack when she trained, sometimes Donovan, and often Jasper, all members of the old Flight crew she worked with. But now, in this new life, she didn’t know who was there, waiting to exchange blows. There seemed to be no fight left―only politics and persuasion, never Nell’s strong suit.

  She spun, ducked and twirled. A stranger watching would see a dance, a lethal dance, but one beautiful in its stark strength. People might not describe Nell as pretty, with her white blond hair pulled back in a plain braid and her intimidating blue-eyed stare, but when she moved, she was arresting.

  Her sides heaving, Nell finally lowered her longsword as the sun dropped below the treetops, as vanquished as her imaginary foes. There were no real fights these days, only skirmishes, hardly worthy of a weapon. She kept training because it calmed her. Soothed her. Her beloved Corbin didn’t understand, so Nell practiced alone, just her and the lilting birdsong among the towering trees.

  By all the stars, she missed a good sword fight.

  But life went on.

  As if to remind her of that fact, her mother called out, “Time for dinner!”

  With one last look at the sunset, Nell sheathed her sword and went to clean up, thankful it hadn’t been her turn to cook. She might be nineteen now, but running a household wasn’t one of her strengths. After a quiet dinner with her family, Nell kissed her sisters in their beds―though they were almost too old for such things―and then curled up on the cot in the living room where she stayed these days, sword within easy reach on the floor. Old habits died hard. S
he traced the dagger under her pillow with her fingertips, before resolutely flipping onto her back and closing her eyes. Her hands twitched to hold her dagger. It always brought comfort, like a worn baby blanket, but she took some deep breaths to calm herself instead. Despite the late afternoon training session, sleep came slowly. Eventually, though, slumber carried her away.

  Sometime in the blackness of the night, the front door creaked. Nell’s eyes flashed open. The noise made the barest whisper of sound, but that was all she needed. A sliver of moonlight fell on the floor, and a tall shadow, a man’s, stretched across it. An invader, in her home. She hadn’t even heard the person pick the lock, which suggested someone had a lot of skill―and practice. It had been a while since the last late-night visitor.

  This time, though, the shadow of a knife extended from the intruder’s hand. That was new.

  She slid her own dagger out from under her pillow. She didn’t need to test the blade to know it was sharp.

  Nell might not be an enforcer anymore, but that didn’t mean she could relax her guard. Jack’s death hadn’t destroyed the dark alchemist’s crew entirely. It only meant a new ringleader had moved to the top, like fat rising in a broth. The first year had meant repeated night time intruders trying to threaten her back into the crew. She thought they’d finally gotten smart, but she figured you just couldn’t cure stupid.

  Too bad for them. If she had to knock sense into every one of her former colleagues, so be it, though she’d tried hard to avoid violence since her… change. Still, the hilt felt comfortable in her hand, an old friend. No sweat slicked the surface of her palm. The door inched open another crack, and Nell tensed her muscles, ready to move.

  The toes of a pair of dark green boots poked through the shadows. She knew those boots. Fury burst through her. Jasper. He was the worst, always skulking around Nell when she was working for the crew, like a creepy rat sniffing for its next meal.

  Nell focused that anger into a fine point, the intensity that gave her such skill with a blade for one so young, as good as any mercenary. One of Jasper’s boot strings had unwrapped and coiled along the floor. Always sloppy. Her lips curled with disgust. He took one step further, crossing firmly into the home. That was enough.

  Training kicked in hard. Nell whirled out of bed as silent as an owl swooping on its prey and snatched up the long blade on the floor. By the time her spin ended half a heartbeat later, she held her sword tip pressed to his throat and her other hand had knocked his weapon to the floor with a clatter before aiming her own dagger toward his chest. His speeding pulse throbbed in the hollow of his neck, right next to the steel aimed directly at it.

  “Nell!” he gasped, voice strangled. Trembling, he threw his hands up in surrender.

  She didn’t care that she stood in her nightclothes, loose linen pants and a baggy shirt, with her hair down around her shoulders. She might look like a young, vulnerable girl, but appearances could be deceiving. She took a moment to pray that the prophetic voice wouldn’t take over her body now. Whenever the mysterious voice issued another warning for Aluvia, it spoke through Nell without any apparent concern over what she was doing at the moment. It had led to some awkward situations, but this time, it could be deadly. “Come to kill me this time, Jasper? You couldn’t take me then; you can’t beat me now.”

  “I came with a message. That’s all, I swear. There’s a new boss in town, Nell. He either wants you on his side or out of the way, you with your devoted followers.” His voice grew whiney and wheedling. “If you come with me, I’ll convince him to assign you to my crew. You’re too good to waste.”

  She snorted.

  His expression darkened. “You never knew a good thing when you saw it, Nell.” He lowered his arms, and Nell let him, though her own weapons remained ready.

  “My life is full of good things now.”

  “You mean your little fairy keeper? I reckoned there had to be a reason you weren’t even hand-fasted yet. He’s not enough for someone like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “Someone born with a sword in her hand.”

  The hands in question suddenly felt icy. Her reasons for not formally committing to Corbin were tangled and confusing and nothing she would discuss with this scum. He was eyeing the exit, coward that he was. She moved slightly to block him. “You’re just jealous.”

  He glared. “Don’t flatter yourself. Just saying it’s a waste, you running around like some messenger of peace. Come back to us, one last chance. The new boss is gonna tame the dragons, stop ‘em from setting the mountains afire. He’s promised they’ll carry us into battle for Aluvia. Can you imagine anything better? You’re a fighter, not some fairy fanatic.”

  “Your new boss is clearly a madman, and I haven’t been with Jack’s crew in a long, long time.” She kept her voice low in hopes of not waking her family.

  “You mean my crew.”

  She paused. “I thought Maddox took over.”

  “Maddox recently mistook poison for a healing drought. Shame.”

  So, Jasper got rid of his competition the same way Jack had. Jasper had learned ruthlessness from the best.

  “You said your new leader wants me gone.”

  “Or a part of the action. Our crew’s joined up with something bigger now, Nell. You could, too.”

  “There’s nothing bigger than saving Aluvia’s future. Just leave me alone. I’ve got a new life now,” she said.

  “That new life’s about to come crashing down around your shoulders.” He licked his lips as they turned up in a ghost of a smile.

  “Is that so?” She tilted her head and scanned Jasper more closely, alarms going off in her mind. He looked older than his thirty years―life in a crew aged a body faster than most―but his eyes had a new brightness to them. His shoulders were low and relaxed, his hands no longer trembling. His pose hinted at something. Something he thought would win him this fight. Dread shifted her feet.

  He laughed, low, making the hair on the back of Nell’s neck stand on end. “Things are about to get real exciting around these parts, girl. You don’t want to come? Fine, but at least hand over some nectar. Then we can keep everything peaceful, all between friends. I’ll tell the Dragon you’re on our side after all. I’m in tight with him.”

  “The Dragon?”

  “That’s the name he’s taken. Down in the ice-locked lands. You’ve never seen someone with such power.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “I’m warning you. You’ll regret leaving your crew when you’re not seen as a savior anymore. The people won’t love you forever. The Dragon will be ruler and you’ll have nothing,” he snickered.

  She pressed the sword harder against his skin, until a single drop of blood welled up, looking black in the dim light. “Who are you kidding? The people don’t want a ruler. We have no kings.”

  “We might not have a king―yet―but you’re practically a queen, ain’t you? Always so above everyone, so high and mighty is our little Nellwyn, with people chanting your name. Not good enough for the likes of us, eh? But we’ll have our day. You’ll see. We’ll have magic like you can’t imagine, and we’ll use it as we see fit.”

  She scowled and delivered a swift kick to his shin without lowering her weapons. Being barefoot reduced the impact, though, and she gritted her teeth when he laughed. She snarled, “Without the fairies, without Flight, you’re nothing. Haven’t you gotten the message?”

  “There’s always poisons to sell, lovie. And there’s bigger things than that yet to come, much bigger. But oh yes…” Jasper hissed, leaning harder into the sword point and blood welled up thicker, dripping down his neck. “The fancy prophetess gets to tell us what’s we can do and not do, touch and not touch, take and not take. No taking nectar! Save the world! “ He used a falsetto voice and fluttered his stubby eyelashes at her.

  Nell’s hands didn’t waver, despite the flush burning across her cheeks. Luckily, it was too dark for him to see the crimson stain. She kept
the sword steady, but pushed the dagger harder against his chest.

  “I’m not the one saying it,” she said. She still didn’t know who was using her body as a messenger, but she sure wished they’d let her in on the secret―or get out.

  “That’s not what I hear. I hear you have all sorts of things to say, things about your former employer, about dark alchemists, about anyone using Flight. Never saw you for a fairy fanatic, Nell, and now you’re being courted by one and are best friends with another.”

  Jasper snapped his teeth. “Don’t you miss enforcing? I bet you do. The power. The fear. The rush.”

  “No.” Her voice was flat.

  “Liar. You can take the girl out of the fight, but you can’t take the fight out of the girl.”

  “The job was just a means to an end.”

  “What end, little girl?”

  Her lips tightened. “Survival.”

  “The Dragon is coming. You want to survive, you’d better prepare to bow. It’ll be too late to fight.”

  “It’s never too late to fight.”

  Nell reversed her hold on the sword and knocked Jasper hard on the head with its pommel. He went down like a sack of grain. She sighed, staring at the unconscious slob of a man at her feet.

  Her unwanted gift of prophecy might have brought her instant fame as well as gifts of food and supplies from fervent believers, but it still couldn’t deliver her from her past. She’d do it all again, but it had been a long road to keep the peace, to walk this new path. Especially since she did really miss the fight. And now someone named The Dragon was drawing rats like Jasper?

  She’d heard nothing of this man, though. Jasper could be lying. She discounted the bit about dragons immediately. Those weren’t the kind of beasts that submitted to being ridden like donkeys. Either Jasper was trying to intimidate her, or the so-called Dragon was making impossible promises to sound more impressive. But even so, some kind of battle could be coming. Sounded like it.