I should sit up now—I feel quite vulnerable just lying here—but my body is stiff and achy. I blink a few more times and look around. From what I can see of the sitting room, it looks pretty much the same as the last time I was here. Ryn kneels on the floor, leans his elbows on the edge of the couch, and laces his fingers together. He rests his chin on top of his fingers and, with his face entirely too close for comfort, fixes me with his bright blue stare. “Would now be a good time to say ‘I told you so’?” he asks.
I roll onto my back so I don’t have to look at him. “Depends. Did you ever tell me that my halfling boyfriend would betray me to an evil faerie?”
One of Ryn’s elbows slips off the couch. “That guy’s a halfling? Wait, you have a boyfriend?”
I sigh. “Like that’s really the most important piece of news right now.”
“I’d say it certainly merits some attention.” Ryn resumes his position at the edge of the couch. “Who would have thought you’d be able to find someone interested in keeping your company?”
Thanks. If it was anyone else, I’d be offended. It’s Ryn though, and I’ve had years to get used to his insults. I meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you just leave me there to die, Ryn? We’d both be having a far more pleasant time right now if you had.”
“If you were dead, Pixie Sticks, there’d be no one for me to torment.”
“Do you mean to tell me that I’m the only one you bestow your delightful insults upon?” I place a hand on my chest. “I’m touched.” And now it’s definitely time to go. I push myself into a sitting position and run a hand through my hair. It’s clean. The bed cover falls away from me and it appears I’m also wearing clean clothes. They must be Zinnia’s.
“Love the dress you had on,” Ryn says without moving away. “It showed off your pixie-stick legs to full advantage.” If I had enough energy I’d slap him. “I see you’ve also taken to wearing a certain fashion item in your ears.” There’s an edge to his voice as his fingertips brush my earlobe.
I swat his hand away. “I don’t wear them to annoy you, you know.” I picture the tiny arrow-shaped earrings and push away the memory of Nate finding them in the bottom of my boot. “It’s an added bonus, of course, but the real reason I wear them is because they remind me of Reed.”
Ryn’s eyes bore into mine. “And when you wear them, do you think of me too? Or have you forgotten that they were a gift from both of us?”
My eyes slip away from his. I had forgotten that.
“Violet, you’re awake.” I look up to see Ryn’s mother at the foot of the stairs. She’s dressed all in black, with an array of small knives secured in a belt around her hips. She must be on her way to an assignment.
I swing my legs around and stand up. “Zin—Mrs. Larkenwood,” I say, feeling a little light-headed. “Thank you for taking care of me, and for the clothes.”
“Vi, are you sure you should be standing up?” She hurries across the room. “You were very badly hurt. You may need more rest.”
“Oh, I think I’m fine.” I wave away her concern, despite the dizziness that swirls in my head. “I should be getting home now. I just want you to know how grateful I am. You must have used a lot of healing magic.”
Her eyes flick to Ryn for a second before returning to me. “I should have done so much more,” she says softly. I’m not quite sure what she means. I get the feeling she wants to say something else, but instead she steps forward and hugs me. Her dark, curly hair tickles my cheek. It has blue in it, just like Ryn’s. “Take care of yourself, Vi.” She steps back and turns to Ryn. “Can I speak to you?”
Ryn sighs. “If you must.” He follows her out of the room.
Don’t think about Nate. Don’t think about Nate.
I look around for my belongings. I can’t see Raven’s dress—it’s probably been thrown away—but I find my boots standing against the wall beside the fireplace, and my stylus on the mantelpiece. I sit down on the low table in front of the couch and pull the boots on. I wave my hand across them and watch the laces tie themselves all the way up to my knees.
“So,” says Ryn, wandering back into the room. “Mom’s team is off to Italy for a few days.” He throws himself into an armchair. “The glamorous life of a guardian.”
“Italy?” I turn my back on him and begin removing the bedding from the couch. “Don’t they have their own Guild?”
“Apparently the Italians need my mother’s expertise.”
I fold up the bedding and leave it lying on the couch. Hopefully Ryn will deal with it before his mother returns. “Well, thanks for saving my life.” I turn to leave.
Ryn jumps up and follows me to the part of the wall where I used to let myself out. “Do you remember when we didn’t hate each other?” His voice is as light as though he’s enquiring about the weather.
I cross my arms. “My memory doesn’t extend that far back.”
“Really? Your memory’s that bad?” He shoves his hands into his pockets and leans against the wall. “Doesn’t seem like you; you’re so good at holding a grudge.”
“Multiple grudges, if we’re going to get technical.”
“Have I really done that many awful things to you, Pixie Sticks?”
“You stuck a sign on my back that said ‘Call me Shorty’ on our very first day of training.”
“You have to admit, that one was rather amusing.”
“In third year you told everyone I had some kind of contagious disease.”
“Well, you did have a suspicious mark on your—”
“And in fourth year I was apparently having an affair with a five-hundred-year-old mentor.”
“Should I have picked a younger one for you to—”
“You threw away my mother’s tokehari!” I shout at him.
A beat of silence. Then, “Oh? My memory’s a little fuzzy on that one. You’ll have to remind me of the details.”
“Gold chain. Gold key. You chucked it down the singing well that leads Underground.”
“A key? Oh dear, have you been locked out of somewhere ever since?”
“No, Ryn, but that’s not the point, dammit!” Tears burn behind my eyes. “It was never meant to open anything, it was meant to be a reminder of my mother.”
“Well, a key that doesn’t open anything sounds like a useless key, and even if you still had it, I doubt you’d be able to remember your mother. You were only three years old when she—”
“STOP!” My whole body is shaking. “I don’t care how much of a jerk you decided to become, you have never had the right to do or say any of these things.”
He pushes away from the wall. “I didn’t decide to become a jerk, okay. Things happened, and—”
“Things happened? Things?” Is it possible that eight years have passed and this is the first time we’re talking about Reed? “He was my friend too, Ryn. But I didn’t see his death as a reason to alienate every person who ever cared for me.”
“Well, everyone has different methods of coping.” His hands are out of his pockets now, clenched into fists at his sides. The look in his eyes warns me to back off. I ignore it.
“This is a coping method? Clearly it’s not working for you.”
“He was my brother!” Ryn yells, all pretense of composure shattered. “How the hell did you expect me to cope with that?”
I step closer to him. So close our faces are almost touching. “You want a coping method? Here’s one you obviously haven’t tried yet: GET. OVER. IT.” Clenching my stylus so tightly I’m in danger of snapping it in half, I scrawl a doorway onto the wall. Without another look at him, I step into the darkness.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I run. My limbs feel weak, and my heart pounds unnaturally fast, but still I run. I have to. I need to. How could he do this to me? I push harder, the dark forest streaming past me, air burning in my throat. I don’t want to think of him. Not ever again. But every footstep that slams into the ground shoots his name across my mind. Nate, Nate, Nate, Nate, Nate—Ugh! How could he
do this? I skid to a halt, stumble, and trip over a pixie that wasn’t there a second ago. It scurries away as I fall onto my hands and knees. I clench a fistful of leaves and twigs and let out a wordless scream.
It feels good.
I crawl toward the gnarled roots of the nearest tree and collapse against them. My breathing is heavy. I guess Zinnia was right about me needing more rest. I close my eyes and see Nate’s smiling face against the back of my eyelids. Something twists painfully in my chest. He said he cared about me. He almost said he loved me! So how could he trick me into walking right into Zell’s hands? Zell must have some kind of hold over him, right? My desperate heart begins grasping for excuses, but I chase them away. There is no excuse good enough for what Nate did. I would never have betrayed him like that, no matter what anyone threatened me with.
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. I want to stay angry. I try to cling to it, but I feel it slipping away, leaving a hollow ache behind. My chest hitches and a sob escapes my lips. Then another. The forest swims before my eyes as tears well up and spill down my cheeks. I find my stylus and write a doorway on the tree trunk behind me. I crawl into it.
On the other side, in my sitting room, I don’t bother standing up. I drag myself over to the couch, lean back, and draw my knees up to my chest. The tears keep falling. I don’t try to stop them. I feel as though I am crying with my whole body. Great, shuddering gasps that leave me even more desperate for air.
Something soft nudges my side. Filigree, in white mink form, slips into the gap between my legs and chest. His warm, furry form is comforting, which makes me cry even harder.
I wipe my hands across my face. Stupid, stupid, STUPID. I should not be crying over a boy. I didn’t even love him. “I DID NOT!” I shout, watching a few sparks fly off my tongue. I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince. Filigree snuggles closer, his claws poking me through my clothes. No. I didn’t love Nate. I was just stupid enough to care about him, that’s all. And now I am alone again. There is no one for me to daydream about. No one for me to visit at night. No one for me to share my world with. It’s just Filigree and me alone in this house again. Like it was before.
Except now it’s a lot worse, because now I know what I’m missing.
I take a deep breath and push myself to my feet. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Fili.” I sniff and rub my eyes. “We can make it the way it used to be.” With Filigree curled around my neck, I hurry upstairs to my bedroom. I pull my emergency kit out of my training bag and dump the contents on my bed. “Where is it, where is it . . . There.” I wrap my hand around the tiny vial, then push it into my pocket. I pull Filigree off my neck and place him on the bed, where he promptly turns into an owl. He stares at me with unblinking eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to take it. Not yet, anyway.” I pat his feathery head. “I’ll be back soon.”
*
I enter the Guild through the trainees’ entrance, not the main entrance I took Nate through the first night I met him. The faerie paths let me out into a small room off the main entrance, where I have to let Tank scan my trainee pendant with his stylus before he’ll let me in. I hurry past him with barely a greeting.
I head downstairs to the third floor below ground. There are closed doors down here I’ve never been allowed behind, but one place I’ve visited is the potions laboratory. After all, one of the guys who works here was my assignment last year. I feel that gives me the right to visit occasionally and check up on him. And ask for favors.
I pull the heavy door open and cough as acrid fumes greet me. It’s close to midnight, but I knew he’d be here; he’s overly dedicated to his work. I wave my hand through the air, clearing a path through the haze of blue smoke.
“Violet!” I jump as the urisk hobbles through a doorway on the other side of the lab. As always, his appearance startles me. No matter how many times I see him, I can’t quite get used to his bald, misshapen head and scrawny, wrinkled body. It always takes a second or two to remind myself I don’t need to be afraid of him. Despite the fact that he wound up on my assignment list, he would never intentionally hurt anyone; the poor guy just wanted a friend. Unfortunately, he almost scared a human girl to death in his search for friendship. “What a lovely surprise!” he says. He carefully places a cylinder of yellow liquid on a lab bench, then tilts his head to the side. “Did you shrink, dear?”
“What?” I look down at my loose clothing. “Oh. No, these aren’t my clothes. Anyway, that’s not important. I need your help, Uri.” Uri isn’t his real name, of course. It’s something ridiculously unpronounceable. Uri The Urisk seemed a lot easier to wrap my tongue around. He was cool with that.
“Of course, of course.” He climbs onto a stool on the other side of the workbench. “What can I do for you? Need someone else’s eyebrows turned orange?” I wish I could smile at the memory of Ryn and Dale’s orange eyebrows. They tried every spell they could think of to get rid of the color, but Uri’s special little charm refused to budge for an entire week. My mouth feels like it’s forgotten how to smile though. Trying to force my lips upward seems impossible right now.
“I need to forget about someone,” I say. “Well, more specifically, I need to forget that I loved someone. I mean, cared about someone. I didn’t love him. Love takes time to develop, right? And I barely knew him. Just a few weeks, really. That’s not love. Maybe it could have been, but he made sure that didn’t happen.” Stop rambling, dammit! I take a deep breath.
“Forget someone. Hmm.” Uri rubs his hands together. “Well, the ingredients for a potion like that are—”
“Rare and expensive. I’ve heard. But I’ve got this.” I pull the vial of Forget out of my pocket and place it on the workbench between us. “Maybe you can make use of it?” Uri eyes the vial with a raised eyebrow. He’ll be wondering how I came to be in possession of this particular potion. From his perspective there are only two options: Either I stole it, or I was supposed to use it on a human and didn’t. “And please . . . don’t tell anyone about this.”
“Well . . .” He sits back, rolling the tiny vial back and forth between his knobbly thumb and forefinger. “I can try and isolate the ingredients from this potion, but as I’ve never needed to do that before, I’m not sure I’d be successful. And, of course, I’d need something that belongs to this boy you’re hoping to forget about.”
“Here.” I hand over Nate’s torn and bloodied T-shirt that, for some reason, I never got around to throwing away after the labyrinth incident.
Uri takes the T-shirt, then begins tapping a finger against an empty glass jar. “Are you sure you want to forget about him? Whatever hurt you’re feeling right now won’t last forever, and surely it’s best to keep all your memories intact.”
I sigh. Uri’s probably right, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to him. “I don’t want to completely forget about him. It’s in my permanent record that he followed me into the fae realm, so it would create complications if I forgot his existence entirely. But I would like to forget that I was ever stupid enough to care about him.” I lean forward. “And yes, I am absolutely sure about that.”
*
Tears burn behind my eyes the moment I step back into my home. I want to curl up in a corner and wait there until Uri’s managed to make a potion for me. I don’t care how long it takes him. I know I’m being completely pathetic, but I don’t want to face the world right—
Bang!
“What the hell?” Filigree appears in the kitchen and points his squirrel paw in the direction of my front door. Well, the area of my wall that could be called a front door if faeries’ homes actually had front doors. I hear the sound again and recognize it as the sound of the door knocker attached to the outside of my tree.
A muffled voice: “Come on, Violet, just open up.” It’s Ryn. I stride into the sitting room, cross my arms, and stare at the wall. Who the heck does he think he is coming over here and demanding to be let in? What does he want? Another fight?
&nbs
p; He slams the knocker over and over again. “Dammit, Violet, please. I really need to talk to you.”
Well, you are the last person I want to talk to.
“I swear, if you don’t open up right now, I’m going to find my own way—”
I sweep my hand across the wall, opening a doorway. “What?” I demand. “Here for round two?”
He freezes, his hand still in the air, then sighs. “Look. I need your help.”
I hear the words, but they don’t make any sense. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I need your help,” he repeats slowly through clenched teeth.
And suddenly it all makes sense. He only saved me because he needs something. And from the look on his face, I’m the last person he wants to ask. Which is fine with me, because I sure as hell don’t feel like helping him. I cross my arms and glare at him.
“You going to make me beg?” he asks.
“I doubt it’ll help, but I’d love to see you try.”
He looks to the side and breathes out sharply, shaking his head. Then he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and slowly gets down on both knees. “Please,” he says, refusing to look up at me. “Please. You’re the only one who can help me.”
My mouth drops open. Maybe this is all a dream. Maybe I haven’t been on a date with Nate yet, and he hasn’t betrayed me, and I didn’t have to run from Zell, and Ryn isn’t really on his knees begging for my help. I press my fingernails into my arms. It hurts.
“Now that I’ve completely humiliated myself, will you let me in?”
I drop my arms to my sides and step back, still barely able to believe that Ryn would actually get down on his knees in front of me. Filigree shifts to snow leopard form and bares his teeth as Ryn gets to his feet and walks in. The doorway seals up behind him. I cross the room and settle myself on one of the couches. Hopefully we can get this over with quickly. “So what do you need help with?”
Ryn glances in Filigree’s direction, then follows me. After removing a bag from his shoulder, he chooses a seat opposite me and sits down. “It’s my sister. She’s missing.”
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