She held up the page I had seen her reading earlier. I had thought it was a coloring page from home, but my skin suddenly prickled when I realized it was a crude drawing, as if sketched with charcoal or some other rudimentary implement.
“Where did you get this?” I asked in a whisper.
She shrugged. “I found it in the cave before you shouted at it and crumbled it all down.”
I didn’t correct her about the shouting power she had just attributed to me. Because I was too shocked to realize she had accidentally picked up the drawing the Knight had left behind. The one Pan had mentioned.
It was…I had no idea what it was. It looked like a large sun with many rays shooting out from the center. It was a very basic drawing, something a toddler could have duplicated.
She noticed my attention. “See?” she asked, slowly walking backwards. Caught off guard by her sudden motion, I stared at the page. “No!” she folded the page and then brandished it at me warningly. “Don’t look. See!” And she opened it again.
I took a breath and didn’t try as hard. Rather than staring, I let my eyes relax as I glanced in the direction of the page. Kind of like those visual puzzles where an image could suddenly pop out of a pink blur. Something shifted, and I held up a finger for her to stop. She did, and it flickered away like a blown-out candle.
“Damn it,” I muttered, trying to move back and forth until I saw it again.
Alice sighed, folding the page again. “It’s no use. If you kind of see it, and then it goes away, you have to wait a while to get it out of your head. Otherwise you try too hard and ruin it.”
I studied the child, cocking my head in surprise. “I think you might just be a better teacher than your mother.”
She nodded primly. “Of course I am.”
I grinned at her lack of humility. “My Lady,” I said, taking a bow.
She dipped her head graciously. “Why are the Queens so scared of you? You’re a little mad, but you’re not scary.”
Part of me registered the thought that a little blonde girl named Alice had just told me I was a little mad while we traipsed about a strange land, reminding me of Lewis Carroll’s fabled story. But Alice had a serious look on her face, and she had asked a very serious question. One I didn’t feel equipped to answer with her mother absent.
“Oh, that was just a misunderstanding. We had an argument.”
Alice grew very still. “Like you had an argument with Pan?” she asked, slicing right to the bone without meaning to. There was no judgment in those innocent little eyes. “My mother and father once had an argument. Then I never saw him again.”
And I suddenly wanted to curl up into a ball and die. My white lie had just snowballed into—
Another thought suddenly hit me. I had just lied to a child. About something very important. Something that could put her in danger just for being near me. Because if the Fae Queens did go hunting for me, they would find Alice—a banished Fae—and likely execute her. But since she was with me, they would most definitely execute her.
Off with her head, and all of that.
I had just done what I hated my parents for. Lying about a significant thing.
I knelt down in front of Alice and held out my hands. She straightened her shirt and set the paper down. “I do,” she said solemnly.
My face turned scarlet from jawline to hairline. “No—”
She burst out in giggles. “I was just joking you!” she teased, laughing entirely too hard.
I narrowed my eyes. “Enough of that, you,” I growled playfully. “Listen up. I’m about to learn you.”
“You can’t learn someone,” she argued, laughing.
“And you can’t joke someone either,” I teased right back, grinning victoriously.
Her laughter cut off. “Oh, my. Are you for serious?” she asked.
“I’m for real. But I’m also serious. I am not for serious,” I said, smiling wider.
“Oh, bother.”
“Now,” I said, letting my smile slip away. “This is important. I’m going to teach you how to lie. And how to spot a lie.”
Her eyes suddenly glittered with excitement. “Yes, please,” she breathed eagerly.
“This isn’t foolproof, but people have a thing called a tell—something that gives them away when they are nervous. Or lying. Sometimes, they look to the left the moment before they lie. Maybe their nose twitches. Or their shoulders tense. Basically, you should see people when you talk to them,” I told her, deciding to use a word tied to her new affinity. “Learn their normal facial gestures, so that whenever you see them do something different than usual—their tell—you can almost bet your life they are lying to you. Always look people in the eyes when you talk to them, and they are more likely to let slip a tell. Eye contact makes people nervous.”
She nodded studiously, considering my words. I waited patiently, wondering just how clever this little girl might be since she obviously had a gift for seeing.
She blinked suddenly. “The Queens. You lied about the Queens.”
I smiled proudly, inwardly stunned she had picked up on it so fast. But to hear how good she was at observing people, and then her gift with images, I had hoped for such a response.
“I’m sorry about that, but yes. I spoke without thinking and wanted to tell you something that wouldn’t scare you. The truth is, the Queens tried to attack me over a misunderstanding. And I reacted. I defended my friends and killed a lot of the Queens’ soldiers. It was one of the first times I used this,” I said, indicating the Hammer at my belt, remembering how I had funneled my Fae magic through it to sow mayhem against the might of the Fairy Queens. It had knocked me out, afterwards. There were consequences to dishing out of that much magic, even when using a tool to control it. And Odin wanted me to use even more magic to repair the Bifrost. I focused back on Alice. “It was one of the first times I let them see what I could do with my Fae magic. Many, many died. The Queens themselves almost died.”
Her eyes were wide as she slowly nodded. “You told me the truth,” she murmured. “You didn’t show any tells,” she explained, touching my cheek in a specific spot.
I decided right then and there that I was never going to play poker with Alice. Not ever. I had no idea what tell she had picked up on, but now I felt subconscious about it. “Yes. I told you the truth. And I’ll try to always tell you the truth from here on out. Very rarely do you need to tell a lie. Only in circumstances where the truth will directly get someone you care about harmed.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, frowning.
“If the Queens showed up and demanded to know where Gunnar was so they could kill him, I would lie to them, because they just said their immediate intent was to kill Gunnar.”
“What if they threaten to hurt you if you don’t give them what they want?”
I sighed, giving her a sad smile. “That’s when things get complicated, and you find out what you’re made of,” I said tiredly, thinking back on all the liars I had met—some for good, some for bad.
She was silent for a time, and I realized the others had covered quite the distance between us as we stopped to talk. I looked down at her. “Can you give me a piggyback ride?” I asked.
She squealed, and then sprinted away as fast as her little two legs could carry her. “Only if you can catch me, Manling!”
I grinned and gave chase.
My heart felt significantly lighter for both telling her the truth and for chasing after a child who could hardly breathe she was giggling so hard.
There was just something about abandoning your pride that felt good at times.
Dealing with mothers who were angry at you for oversharing with their daughters on the other hand…well, that was for later. Right now…
“Fe, fi, fo, fum! I am the Manling, you better run!” I roared, chasing her down.
Talon flinched so violently at my shout that he hurled his pod of Fae catnip up into the air, his eyes about as dilated as I had ever seen
them. Gunnar was grinning from ear-to-ear, and Alice screeched at the top of her lungs as she fled.
And I felt a stronger click between Wylde and I, making me smile wider.
Chapter 28
Alvara had soon picked up on our game, and was now carrying Alice on her back, laughing as she spun in circles every other step. Her lips were stained red from the berries she had apparently found, but she didn’t seem to notice, so I didn’t point it out.
I did lean over to Talon, though. “What kind of berries did she eat?”
Talon glanced over. “Um, I don’t know. I was…busy.”
I rolled my eyes. He had been getting stoned on Fae catnip. Even now, he was fastidiously cleaning his paws as if they were filthy. They weren’t. And seeing a cat tug on his inches-long claws with fangs that could pierce almost entirely through my wrist…well, his grooming habits left a lot to be desired.
Alvara was about as happy as I had ever seen her. No more of her strange trepidation. “Maybe she found some kind of catnip, too…” I suggested to Talon.
He stopped tugging on a ridiculously sharp claw long enough to shrug. “I’ve never heard of such a berry.” Then he went back to cleaning as we walked.
Not long after, Alvara suddenly stopped laughing, looking about the woods as if surprised. She set Alice down and waved at me, motioning me closer. Talon and I instantly jogged over, wondering if something was wrong. Gunnar, too, began scanning our surroundings for a threat, sniffing at the air warily.
“We are close,” Alvara told me. “The Seer is a very private person. I should go ahead so she doesn’t flee in fear.”
I hesitated, thinking about it. “I really don’t want to split up, and what if Pan was right? She might not be here.”
Alvara waved a hand. “Nonsense. I’ve known her for as long as I can remember. She’s here. I know it.” She sounded uncannily certain. “Just keep Alice with you and come knock on the door in five minutes. That should be enough time for me to calm her down.”
I shot Talon a questioning look and he shrugged. “I don’t sense any nearby danger,” he suggested. “Nor do I sense any nearby presence but us. I don’t think she is here.”
Alvara swatted him on the nose, earning a stunned look from Talon as his ears tucked back instinctively. “Don’t meddle in my affairs, Talon,” she chastised him. Alice looked just as surprised as the rest of us, but to be fair, she had spent much of the last leg of our walk psychoanalyzing each of us, staring directly into our eyes for long stretches as she asked all sorts of strange questions, trying to learn our tells. I had created a monster.
Meaning, she had been studying us so closely that I had lost count of the number of times she tripped while walking. So, seeing her mother suddenly swat at Talon’s face was entirely shocking for the obvious reasons—he was liable to rip your face off on instinct—but also because seeing anyone suddenly strike another person in a civil conversation was strange.
What had been in those damned berries? It was almost as if she had a slight alcohol buzz. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to share with Alice.
Before any of us could react, Alvara was striding down the path and around a corner in the thick trees where a small, almost invisible path veered off the main road.
I cursed, then winced at Alice. “Sorry.”
Then we were all following to get a glimpse of the Seer’s house, but not close enough so as to risk ruining Alvara’s plan. I glanced around the bend to see Alvara striding down the end of an overgrown path with an old house at the end.
I shared a long look with Gunnar. He snorted. “Fixer upper,” he said sarcastically.
I agreed with him but didn’t voice it with Alice standing beside us. No need to concern her, but it looked like the Seer had been gone for a good long while.
We leaned back out of sight and waited for five excruciating minutes, and I began to wonder if Alvara had been right. Then I stepped onto the hidden path and began calmly walking towards the house. No use marching and making it look like an invasion—even if Alvara had succeeded and warned the Seer ahead of time.
As unlikely as it seemed, the fact that Alvara hadn’t returned kind of lent credit to her claim.
The Seer was in. Walk-ins welcome.
The trees cleared around the house, giving me a clear view of the mountain in the distance. I strolled up to the house, which looked well-built and sturdy, if a little neglected in recent years. My shoulders were tense for some reason, so I scanned the area. The yard was overgrown and uncared for, but I didn’t see anything sinister. Perhaps it was all for show—to make people assume she wasn’t home. Because being a Seer probably attracted all sorts of unwanted requests. People seeking to hear their fortunes, and more often than not, being unhappy with the answers.
Seeing no danger, I resolved to knock on the door.
But it suddenly banged open and Alvara hurried out, holding her fist at her side as if carrying something, even though I couldn’t see anything. She grabbed my hand and tugged me down the steps, hurrying from the house.
“Someone’s been here, rummaging through my things. I think they know,” she whispered, skidding to a stop in the yard and staring at me with terrified eyes.
Chapter 29
I stared back at her, my shoulders suddenly twitching. “What do you mean, rummaging through your things?” I asked, confused by both her panic and her comment.
“I am the Seer, Wylde. Although it’s more accurate to say I am a Hearer. She is a Seer,” Alvara snapped impatiently, pointing at Alice. “But I didn’t anticipate that before coming here. She never showed any of the signs. Perhaps bringing her here was a mistake. It fully woke her gift. You need to get out of here, all of you!” She was flinching and jerking her eyes at even the slightest change of wind from the brush or trees, no matter how innocent, holding out her fist.
“What do you mean, you are the Seer? You could have told me that hours ago!”
“I didn’t want to waste my time answering a hundred asinine questions on our walk here. On my last walk…” She cut off abruptly, staring at Alice.
“It’s okay, mother. I can see,” the little girl whispered. “I understand,” she said miserably.
Alvara let out a helpless sob and then wrapped her daughter in a desperate hug. After a few moments, she urgently guided Alice well away from her. Alice didn’t take offense, seeming to understand. She backed right the hell away, actually. Alvara locked eyes with me, and I could see they were extremely dilated.
“The berries! What were those berries?” I demanded, shaking her shoulders angrily.
“I knew the moment I entered Fae that I was going to die. If I had known so before I made our deal, I might have…” she let out another whimper, blinking rapidly at Alice. “I would have been better,” she whispered, her face contorting with agony. “Please forgive me, my sweet.”
“Oh, mama,” Alice gasped helplessly, physically shaking as she broke down in ugly tears.
I shook Alvara again, my own eyes misting up at the tide of emotions but not understanding why. “What do you mean, Alvara?” I begged.
She composed herself with a nod. “I heard it in the trees, in the grass, and on the wind. It is my gift—to Hear. The Land of Fae whispered to me of my death, but by then it was too late to change anything. I knew this story was not a happily ever after. Not for me. But…by fulfilling our bargain, perhaps it could be a happily ever after for Alice…” she sobbed. “I help you, you help my daughter—keep her safe after I’m gone.” Alvara whimpered, holding out her closed fist like she was handing me a bag. I had forgotten all about it. I heard a faint tinkling of chains below her fist but saw nothing. “Take it and run. I didn’t think it would happen this fast, which is why I took the berries. To give you time to run.”
Poison. The berries had been poison.
“This can only be passed from one hand to another in death, and I do not know how to read it. Then again, I Hear things, and it is hard to Hear a book. Perhaps you need
a Seer,” she whispered, smiling sadly at her daughter.
I reached out a hand to accept the unseen item and get us the hell out of here. Then her words hit me. “Wait. It can only be passed in death?”
“Yes. I always knew I would need to deliver it one day, just like my husband delivered it to me. It is fitting that we share the same fate.”
I noticed she was sweating, and her lips were still stained with berry juice. “Why would you do all this, Alvara? You have a daughter!” I hissed. Alice let out a squeak that made me wince with shame.
“And if the Catalyst doesn’t read this book…there will be no world where my daughter will ever be safe,” she said, looking me right in the eyes.
I backed up a step, shaking my head. “That’s insane. You didn’t have to eat the berries!”
“It’s not the berries that kill her,” Alice whispered.
In probably the most forlorn and terrified voice I’d ever heard, making me suddenly very uncertain of the forest around us.
Alvara nodded. “The berries dull the pain, but they are also a poison. It let me control the time enough to give you this, first,” she said, holding out her arm. “Sometimes a parent must shoulder a heavy burden to keep their children safe, no matter how horrifying it may seem at the time. I’m sure your parents knew something of this.” She held out the closed fist, shaking it, and despite seeing nothing, I could tell she held something with weight.
Gunnar growled. “Something is wrong…” he said, scanning the trees. “We are not alone.”
Talon hissed, facing the opposite side of the forest. “I don’t see anything, but I think he’s right…” he snarled. “We need to leave. Now.”
Gunnar abruptly roared and Alvara gasped, but I had been too busy staring at her hand to see what had happened. I looked up at Alvara to see a wicked dagger buried in her chest. She dropped whatever it was that she had been holding and fell to her knees. I saw the grass flatten beneath the unseen item, but Alice suddenly snatched it up, backing away from her mother, shaking her head in horror, unable to look away, her eyes as wide as saucers.
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