by Marisa Mills
I heard splashing, and I turned to the woods, where a slow river was rising. I thought of Sterling’s warning about snakes.
“Don’t worry,” Lucian said. “It’s just a vision. Nothing can hurt you here.”
The landscape began to shift and change. The forests grew brighter and greener, like time was ticking backward. We’d been in mid-winter; now, we looked to be in early spring
Splash! Splash! Splash!
A tall woman walked through the water. Her white trousers were tucked into her tall leather boots. Clearly, she’d anticipated the water. Her dark blue shirt clung to her figure, practically glued to her slender body with sweat or water. Her glossy mane of black hair was pulled back into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. I recognized the high cheekbones, the friendly face, and the cold, blue eyes in an instant. This had to be Guinevere. Even though she looked to be eighteen or nineteen, there was no denying the obvious resemblance to her mother, Amelia.
“We’re in the past,” I said slowly.
“So it seems,” Lucian replied. He took a deep breath and stretched. “This place has magic of its own.”
Guinevere smiled brightly and walked past us.
“Nick!” she exclaimed, her voice melodic and sweet.
Leaves rustled above us.
“Just a moment!” a voice called.
Guinevere halted at the base of a tree and put her hands on her hips. She laughed. “Someday, you’re going to get stuck!” she exclaimed.
“I am not! Catch!”
A leather bound book tumbled through the air. Guinevere squeaked and caught it. I recognized it as Nick’s journal, the same book that Dorian had wanted me to steal from the Academy.
“Were you sketching?” Guinevere asked, flipping open the book.
Movement. A man slowly climbed down the tree. His sandy blond hair framed a sharp, angular face. A dusting of blond fuzz spread across his jaw. When he lighted on the ground before Guinevere, I saw that his eyes were a pale gray color. They sparkled like silver. Guinevere clasped her hands behind her back and smiled slyly. Then, she leaned forward and placed a quick, gentle peck on his lips.
“I was sketching,” Nick replied, “but I fear I’ve lost all desire to draw squirrels and birds now that you’re here.”
Guinevere laughed and swatted him with his journal.
“You flatterer,” she said, smiling.
“I’m afraid flattery is all I can offer you, Dearest,” Nick said. “It’s all we common-blooded men have to win our fair ladies.”
“If you intend to fish for compliments, you’ll need to cast your net elsewhere,” Guinevere teased.
“A pity,” Nick replied. “Perhaps, you’ll be willing to recommend a fishing spot for me.”
“Perhaps,” Guinevere said.
With a smile, Guinevere returned Nick’s journal to him. Then, she reached beneath her shirt and drew out a necklace. It was simple for the daughter of a countess. Just a silver chain and a dark blue stone. She tugged another necklace from her pocket. The chain was heavy gold, and the emeralds glittered in the sunlight, casting patches of green across their faces. After a pause, she handed it to Nick.
Hisses drifted through the air as Nick curled his hand around the necklace. Demons stirred. I caught sight of them, darting between the trees. There were all kinds—large and small, some as black as night and others a gleaming white, dragons and snakes, owls and vaguely humanoid figures. They gathered around Nick mostly, but a few drifted to Guinevere, who crouched and scratched between the ears of a small, rabbit-like demon with dark blue fur and diamond-bright eyes.
Guinevere rubbed the blue stone around her neck. It started to glow, and I could make out tiny sigils etched along its surface.
“Hello, little one,” she murmured.
Lucian strode closer, his footsteps leaving no trace on the water. He reached down and tapped the stone around Guinevere’s neck. “I think this might be the charm we’ve heard so much about,” Lucian said. “So what does it do?”
Nick drew out a pen and began drawing smooth, silver lines along the surface of the emerald necklace. I drifted closer. The gemstones shimmered, and with a sharp crack, the necklace split in half. Guinevere straightened. Her blue eyes were wide. Slowly, light began to pulse and gather over Nick’s hand. Then, in a burst of stars, a tiny blue mouse scampered free. It bounded over Nick’s hand and grew, larger and larger, until it reached Nick’s waist. The demon’s shape shifted and twisted, becoming larger and more feline.
Guinevere raised a hand to her lips. “How beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “I can never—I can never get over how beautiful they are.”
While Guinevere’s eyes were fixed on the demon, Nick’s eyes remained firmly on her. “They are the second most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen,” Nick replied.
Guinevere’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Nonsense,” she replied.
The demon moved forward, butting its head beneath her hand. Guinevere laughed and stroked the demon’s head. “I am sorry,” Guinevere said, “that you have been imprisoned so long. Had I known sooner, I promise I would’ve acted.”
The demon darted away, splashing through the water.
“I’m sorry that’s all I could bring this time,” Guinevere said. “I would empty my family’s treasury if I could, but already, Mother suspects there’s something amiss. I don’t know how long we can count on her not searching the vaults. These aren’t idle heirlooms; you know. My family was tasked by the king to guard these.”
I sucked in a quick breath. Is this what Dorian was after? I vaguely remembered learning about this in class, how five noble houses were charged with safeguarding large stores of enchanted objects. If Dorian realized they were stolen, he’d be desperate to get them back before the king discovered they were missing.
“I know, Gwen,” Nick replied. “If there were any other—”
Guinevere raised her hand. “I’m happy to do this for you,” she said. “I’ve no loyalty towards my family. If they truly cared about me, they’d be encouraging me and not pushing me away from you.”
“The nobles don’t take kindly to a mage from the Lower Realms,” Nick said.
“But you’re more powerful than any of them, even some of our teachers! It’s not fair.”
“Life rarely is, Gwen…”
Guinevere shook her head. “I know what you’re going to say, Nick, but Mother will never relent.”
“Perhaps, you and I could…just go elsewhere,” Nick said.
Guinevere sighed and shook her head. “You know I can’t,” she said. “No matter where I went, she’d find me and drag me back to Reverie, talking about duty and honor. Already, she’s having me followed.”
“She hasn’t found—”
A hand grasped my arm and I jolted forward roughly. Without warning, Guinevere and Nick disappeared, and the rippling water faded away. Alexander tensed beside me, gripping my bicep. Sterling stood close to me, one hand inching to the knife at his waist.
We were surrounded by people. Their swords glinted dangerously in our direction.
***
“Welcome home, Wynter.” My blood ran cold as Gabriel stepped forward from the woods. He looked rougher than I remembered. His dark hair wasn’t as glossy, and a new scar traced across his face, just above his right eye. He held a loaded crossbow loosely against his shoulder, his finger on the trigger. The last time Gabriel had faced me with a crossbow, he’d shot Briar in the knee. This time, I knew he’d aim for Sterling or Alexander. I shifted forward, trying to put them behind me.
“Don’t move!” Gabriel snapped, leveling the crossbow at me.
Alexander cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he said. “I am Prince Alexander of Reverie. How dare you threaten my royal personage? I demand that you stand down at once.”
“Oh, shut up,” Gabriel sneered. “I ain’t remotely threatened by you.”
“He’s a ma
ge,” Sterling said. “You should be.”
“Then, prove it,” Gabriel said. “Show us your great powers.”
Alexander swallowed. He had no powers. Not without his pen. He tightened his grip on his sword, frowning at the large men surrounding us. Most of them were twice his size.
“As I suspected,” Gabriel smirked.
“What are you even doing out here?” I asked.
“Looking for him,” Gabriel said, nodding at Alexander. “The king has offered a reward for his son’s body, so he can be buried properly. Soldiers flooded Plumba this morning, but they don’t know the woods like we do. It’s good money. Unfortunately the king’s expecting his dead body, but that should be easy enough to arrange.”
“Do you truly believe you can threaten me?” Alexander asked. “My father will slaughter you where you stand. Mages don’t take kindly to being—”
“Maybe I’ll cut your tongue out while I’m at it,” Gabriel said. “I can’t stand that mage arrogance you’ve got. And then, I’ll start breaking bones, Prince Alexander. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for your parents to come and save you. Now, drop your blade, or I’ll shoot Wynter.”
Alexander’s grip tightened on my arm. “You—you—”
Gabriel raised his crossbow, aiming at my chest.
“All right!” Alexander exclaimed. He practically hurled his rapier at the ground.
“Sterling,” Gabriel growled.
Sterling slowly raised his empty hands.
I thought of my sword, still sheathed at my side. But even with Lucian’s help, I wasn’t sure I could take down all of Gabriel’s men. There were at least eight that I could see, and who knew how many more hiding behind the trees.
“Wynter, come here,” Gabriel said. “You know what will happen if you don’t.”
I shivered. My legs felt numb as I walked to him. He seized my arm, digging his fingers into my arm, so hard I could practically feel the bruises forming. There wasn’t a point in arguing. All my courage had disappeared, and I was just a frightened girl again, waiting for the punishment I knew would come. Gabriel couldn’t be persuaded once his mind was made up.
“So you thought you’d run away with the handsome prince, did you?” Gabriel whispered. “How pathetic. Does he realize you’re trash, Wynter?”
I squirmed under his grip, but looked anxiously towards Alexander.
“Please, don’t tell him,” I said. “It’s not finished. Not yet. Dorian still needs me. I have to return with him to Reverie.”
“Screw that slick bastard,” Gabriel spat. “He kept you way longer than we’d agreed. I asked for more money, and he just ignored me. The deal’s off. I’m taking what’s mine, and you ain’t leaving again. You’re going to learn not to run away from your master.”
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he announced more loudly. “As long as you both behave, I’ll return the young prince. I feel confident the king will pay triple the bounty once he learns his son is still breathing. Wynter stays with me. It’s about time she started to earn some real coin. I know a nice brothel that would be perfect for her talents. Of course, we’ll have to break her in first.”
My cheeks burned as Gabriel’s men chuckled darkly. My breath came in short, uneven shudders. I knew I couldn’t fight all of Gabriel’s men, but maybe I could distract them long enough for Sterling and Alexander to get away. My fingers curled around the hilt of the sword. The cold steel quivered with promise as I drew the blade, and blue fire leaped along the sharp edge. Gabriel’s men laughed louder. They’d seen this trick before. Only this time, it wasn’t the fake fire from the device we’d bought at the market. This was demon fire, and I wasn’t the same girl who’d left the Scraps months before. I flicked my wrist, and the fire leaped to Gabriel’s arm, setting his sleeve ablaze. He screamed. I whipped around, arching fire with me, spinning it into a long whip.
Let’s end this, Lucian hissed.
I fell into the familiar motions easily. Bent knees, back straight, shoulders back. I swept the blade forward, thrusting towards the men. Fire leaped forward, the flames crackling through a shower of bright sparks. One of Gabriel’s goons charged me, but I deflected his blow and stabbed through his torso. I felt my energy drain as Lucian’s fire engulfed him in a pillar of flame. Alexander dove for his blade and thrust it effortlessly in and out of the man approaching him. The rest of my uncle’s men fled into the woods. Gabriel ripped off his jacket, still smoldering, and threw it to the ground. His arm was red and blistered.
Sterling was ready with his knives. My attention snapped back to my uncle. His arm shook as he readied his crossbow, and I braced myself.
“It’s finished, Gabriel. Stand down!” I snapped, brandishing my sword before me.
“A few months in the Floats and you think you’re better than me?” he grunted. “After all I’ve done for you. I should have killed you when you were just a baby.”
His eyes hardened. I knew the exact moment when he decided to pull the trigger. A knife flashed by me, burying itself in my uncle’s shoulder. It threw off Gabriel’s aim, but not enough. I dodged to the side as I heard the sound of the bolt being released. Pain lanced across my side, the bolt slicing through my arm so quickly that I stumbled back into a tree. Alexander grabbed my uninjured arm and pulled me along with him. I whipped my sword behind us, igniting a wall of blue flame between my uncle and me. My nose burned as an acrid smell filled the air, and my mouth tasted like iron and blood.
Sterling pounded through the forest, easily leaping over fallen trees and branches. Alexander and I scrambled after him, stumbling through the brambles. My breath came in hot, ragged pants. I couldn’t feel my legs or my injured arm. Everything seemed forced into some strange blend of fire and numbness as we ran. There were crashes behind us, the sounds of breaking branches and crumbling leaves.
Despite Lucian’s fire, my uncle’s men were still pursuing us. The reward for Alexander’s body must be high indeed. We came to the fence, gasping for air.
“Under!” Sterling barked.
I didn’t question him. I dove towards the hole in the fence, and after throwing my blade through it, I dropped to my belly and crawled through to the other side. Alexander and Sterling followed. I climbed to my feet and spun around, my eyes searching wildly for anything to stop my uncle’s men.
A tall, twisted tree arched near the fence. It looked like it’d nearly fallen over, likely in the last storm. “Lucian,” I gasped.
I didn’t even have to explain. When I slashed the air, Lucian’s fire burst forth. I gasped for air as the fire burned through the tree and felled it. It crashed against the fence, blocking the small hole with a pile of burning debris. I couldn’t breathe. When I raised my hand to my nose, I wiped away blood. I’d used too much magic already. Any more and I’d pass out.
“Wynter!” Sterling exclaimed.
I drew my arm against my nose and smeared the blood away.
“It’s fine. Let’s go!” I exclaimed.
I pushed aside the pain and the numbness, and I kept running. Sterling took the lead, while Alexander kept pace beside me. It would take at least an hour for my uncle and his men to get to the next entrance through the fence, but I knew if they caught up with us again, they wouldn’t bother talking.
Four
MY ARM STILL BLED, BUT I barely noticed apart from a dull throb and the red stain soaking through Claribel’s blouse. Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped feeling pain. A sort of persistent numbness had fallen over me, accompanied by a strange buzzing in my ears. We’d stopped running, but we didn’t rest. Sterling led the way, and after a while I realized we weren’t heading to the Gardens.
“Where—?” I gasped.
“You’ve lost too much blood,” Sterling said. “You need to get patched up. It’s the only way.”
I nodded. We were heading to Gabriel’s hideout in the old station. My heart ached, and a lump rose in my throat when I thou
ght of Briar. I hoped I’d get to see him before I returned to Reverie.
Part of me wanted to ignore that my uncle had just tried to kill me, but the pain in my arm was a throbbing reminder. He’d been aiming for my heart. He may as well have hit it. Gabriel was the only family Briar and I knew, and now he’d shot both of us. Somehow, when I was younger, despite the threats and punishments, I always imagined deep down my uncle cared about us, and even protected us in his own way. All that was shattered now.
I’d seen the malice in his eyes. I could escape to Reverie, but Gabriel was going to punish Sterling’s betrayal harshly, and I wasn’t sure what he’d do to Briar.
We reached the entrance of the subway and clambered down the steps, the pounding of our boots echoing in the vaulted ceiling. Once, I’d been told that the subway station was a bustling place, an architectural marvel that had let thousands of people travel to distant places. Now, it was decaying, like every other place in the Scraps.
“What happened to your nose?” Sterling asked. “Did Gabriel hit you?”
“I used too much magic,” I replied. “It happens.”
“You can use magic?” Sterling asked.
“No, Lucian can,” I replied, “The demon.”
“That’s twice he’s saved us now,” Alexander said, sighing. “I—I would like to thank him for that. I’m very much in his debt.”
That was the most terrible display of gratitude I’ve ever heard, Lucian said.
But wasn’t it better than no gratitude at all?
I’m still not sure I trust his motives, Lucian said. He doesn’t want to speak to demons, so he can understand us. Or befriend us. He’s only interested in gaining more power, the same as your nobleman.
By that, he meant Dorian. Lucian rarely used names for anyone; the one name I had heard him use was Viviane, and that had only been because he’d been angry with me and trying to prove a point.