by Emma Savant
“I’m not defending him, I just think your sprite is making crap up,” I said. “Or you are.”
I scanned the room. It seemed innocent enough, but the goblet could be hiding anywhere: in a desk drawer, behind the books on the bookcase, in a concealed panel in the walls. I took off my glasses and cleaned them on my shirt. Even without their shield, the only magic I saw in the room was Imogen’s.
“That’s always been part of the Faerie Queen’s job, you know,” Imogen said. Her aura sparked. “Defending the so-called ‘worthy’ who can’t protect themselves. Your precious Amani must be so proud.”
“She’s not my ‘precious Amani,’” I said. I shoved the glasses back onto my face. “She’s my queen. And yours.”
Imogen laughed again, with real mirth this time.
“My queen?” she said. “My queen? Seriously? Olivia, have you seen anything happening around you?”
“I haven’t wasted my time worrying about it,” I said.
I glared at her. How had she gotten so stupid?
“Her Majesty’s going to deal with you,” I said. “You’re going to be nothing more than a sad little footnote in Glimmering history. I’m not worried about it. I’m just here to get my friend’s property back.”
I folded my arms and scowled at her. I forced all my determination out of myself and through my skin, pushing to make the air around us heavy with anger and stubbornness.
Imogen was sensitive to that kind of thing.
“Good Titania on a cracker,” she muttered. She slammed down her drink. “Olivia, you’re such a child. The world is changing around you. Everything is changing.”
“Don’t care,” I said. “I said no to Queen Amani, remember? You know, that time she asked me to be Faerie Queen?”
I hated the words even as they came out of my mouth. I hadn’t meant to hide Amani’s request from Imogen. I hadn’t meant to keep secrets or hurt her. I just hadn’t wanted her to worry about me, or worse, get jealous.
I hadn’t wanted it to get between us.
Now, there was no “us.”
“I don’t want to be involved in any of this,” I said. “I’m just doing a favor for a friend, and then I’m out. You and your Oracle can do whatever you want here. After graduation, I’m done with this world.”
“God, Olivia, you’re pathetic,” Imogen said.
I felt the disgust coming off of her, and she, unlike me, wasn’t forcing her feelings out into the air.
She pushed herself up from the chair and walked to her desk. She yanked open a drawer.
“You can have it,” she said. She rummaged around in the drawer, not bothering to look up at me. “Brooke stole that goblet years ago and still hasn’t shut up about it. It’s freaking annoying. Give it back to Haidar if you want; maybe she’ll go after it again and it’ll get her out of my hair for a while.”
She stood up, a golden key in her hand.
“It’s not like the goblet’s worth much anyway,” she said. “You know what it does, right?”
“No idea,” I said. “Haidar just said he wanted it.”
“I seriously don’t know what Amani saw in you,” Imogen said.
She went to the sideboard and rearranged some of the bottles and jars of sparkling dust. At the back of the sideboard was a plain old bottle, half-full of some dark red liquid. Imogen opened the bottle, dropped the key into the liquid with a muffled clunk, and screwed the lid back on.
The bottle began to change. Its neck lengthened and thinned, while the body shrank and grew fat. The dull glass grew opaque and clarified to a bright, glittering gold, dotted with rose-shaped gems the same color as the liquid had been. As soon as the bottle had settled into the form of an upside-down gold goblet, Imogen picked it up and righted it. She glanced inside. She blew, and a tiny cloud of dust kicked up.
She didn’t look impressed.
“This is nothing he couldn’t replace if he were a better wizard,” Imogen said.
“What’s it for?”
“Brooke said it helps him focus his magic,” she said. “That giant house of his is all automated with spells. Magic does the laundry, magic vacuums, whatever. Right now he has to use his own energy to keep it running. Probably what makes him such a grumpy beast all the time, or so everybody tells me. With the goblet back, he won’t have to try so hard to keep his house clean.”
She held out the goblet to me.
“Yippee,” she said flatly.
Put like that, it did seem like a pretty stupid object. It’d probably be easier to downsize to a place that didn’t have five million spare bedrooms.
But Amani had said we needed it.
My hand closed around the goblet’s hard stem.
“Thank you,” I said.
She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at me.
In her eyes, I was nothing more than an ugly stain on her chair. But I straightened my back and looked up at her.
“Imogen?”
“What?”
“You don’t have to do this,” I said.
I felt myself soften. I wanted to reach out for her.
We’d shared each other’s clothes once. We’d stayed up until two in the morning bingeing on TV shows and Swedish fish. She’d given me some kind of plant for my birthday every year for almost as long as we’d known each other, and I’d always tried to surprise her with some Glim novelty item she hadn’t seen before.
The Olivia that had been unable to buy a T-shirt without Imogen’s approval was still inside me.
But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t see a trace of the girl I knew inside this cold-eyed woman.
“Gen,” I said. “Please talk to me.”
“Are we done?” she said.
“I thought you were going to Institut Glänzen,” I said. “What kind of future is this?”
“I’ve seen my future,” Imogen snapped. “Don’t you dare try to tell me what’s best for me.”
I squeezed the goblet. It didn’t feel like it was full of magic. It felt cold and empty, a lot like Imogen and this room and maybe even me.
“Can’t you see what she’s doing?” I said.
“Can’t you see that I don’t care?” Imogen said.
For a fleeting instant, I saw a warmth I knew.
And I realized: I should have seen this coming.
Going through boys like they were disposable, dragging me to parties, occasionally blowing her entire paycheck on shoes and phone cases—Imogen leapt first and asked questions later. If something felt like an adventure or promised to make her life more interesting, more dazzling, more special, Imogen was there.
Even so, Imogen—my Imogen—would care what the Oracle was up to. My Imogen was strong, and smart, and knew how good she was at her job. My Imogen never would have cheated on her Proctor Exam, and she never would have turned on me like this, no matter what I’d done to her.
My throat closed up.
Imogen was the kind of girl who could ingest tablespoons of fairy dust the night before a big test and not think twice. I was the kind of girl who hid the fairy dust and made sure she drank enough water to flush it from her system.
And I was the kind of girl who hid in the corner and refused to go out, and the kind of girl who got so wrapped up in her own selfish problems that she didn’t notice when her best friend slowly started slipping into the darkness.
“How long has she had you?” I said.
Around the stem of the goblet, my fingers twitched.
Imogen crinkled her nose like I smelled bad.
“I’ve been her heir for months,” she said.
“Not her heir,” I said. My voice trembled. It was suddenly so important that I say this right, that she listened. “Gen, she cursed you. Not just the night you went into the Fountain. She’s been cursing you for I don’t even know how long.”
Imogen’s eyes narrowed.
“Probably since before your Proctor Exam,” I said. “I’ll bet that’s what happened, that she told you abou
t Amani coming to me, and you were hurt, because you should have been.” Another wave in an endless sea of guilt crashed over me. “She needed your guard down, just for a minute, and she got in. And I should have been paying attention, but I wasn’t, and I’ll bet you didn’t fight as hard as you could have because you always get so stupid when people start telling you how great you are.”
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth as hard as I could. Panic rose up in me, panic and guilt and a fury at the Oracle so strong it scared me.
“Come with me,” I said.
Haidar had said that my gift was that I didn’t give a damn about what other people thought. But he was wrong.
Maybe I didn’t care about my parents’ opinions. Maybe I didn’t care what Queen Amani thought about my potential.
But I cared about Imogen.
I cared that she’d once loved me. I cared that she used to trust me. I cared that she not throw her life away just because the Oracle and all those horrible sprites sitting outside the office door made her feel special on a bad day.
I gave so many damns about Imogen that I couldn’t breathe.
“You have your goblet,” Imogen said. “You should probably go.”
“Gen, come on. We can talk about this.”
“Get out of my office,” she said. A shower of blue sparks shot out of her fingertips. “I’m not asking.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lucas pressed a button on the keychain and unlocked the doors when we were halfway across the street. I slid into the passenger side and slammed the door. My heart threw itself against my rib cage.
It wasn’t so much that I was worried Imogen would come after us.
It was that I knew she wouldn’t, and the knowing killed me.
Lucas locked the doors and turned the engine on. He looked at me, dark blue eyes taking in more than I wanted him to see.
“Are you okay?” he said.
“I’ll survive,” I said. But only because I had to.
I leaned against the seat and took a deep breath.
“Where to next?” he said.
Suddenly, the windshield began to rattle. Somewhere outside the car, I heard a voice. I tightened my hand around my wand and rolled the car window down a crack.
The time has come for change, the Oracle’s voice boomed. Over the past few days, many of us have become aware of a movement of Huntsmen who claim that the Glimmering world is something to fear. We have attempted to meet their absurd claims with diplomacy, but those who will not respond to reason must respond to force. Portland now belongs to the Glimmers. The remaining Humdrums will be recruited to serve our cause or will be expelled. Remain in your homes. Do not interfere. Those who violate my orders will be treated as one of them.
Her voice faded. Lucas and I exchanged glances. And then she started up again, intoning the same lines like a recording at the airport: The time has come for change. Over the past few days, many of us have become aware…
I rolled the window back up.
“Seriously, though,” Lucas said. His knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. “Where to next?”
A sick feeling I’d been suppressing all day started roiling in my stomach. I let out a long breath, trying to let out my tension with it, but no amount of calm breathing was going to control the kind of fear that prickled through my bloodstream.
Getting the goblet had been bad.
This would be so, so much worse.
“Head toward Forest Park,” I said. “I’ll tell you where to go when we get close.”
He pulled onto the road. We drove in silence. I scanned the skies; Lucas kept his eyes on the road and the handful of cars around us. Portland felt like it was sleeping. Humdrums were out and about, but there were fewer than usual, and they seemed quiet. Above us, I knew the rainbow roads were empty.
Lucas shifted in his seat as we passed deserted brick buildings. Anxiety and adrenaline tingled off of him. His nerves crashed and mingled with my own, like churning ocean waves that never found rest.
I tapped my finger rapidly against the car door.
Lucas’ hand shot out and jabbed the radio on.
“Keep listening for all your favorite classic hits,” an overly enthusiastic man said. The opening chords of some classic rock from the 80s started playing. Lucas hit the scan button. A Christian pop singer crooned about how Jesus was the only man who’d ever loved her right. A perky woman gushed about her new auto insurance. Someone played a banjo and said “Yee-haw!” Every sound was painfully normal.
And then, a man said, “This situation in Portland is unlike anything we’ve ever seen, Dave.”
“Portland likes to keep things weird, that’s for sure,” Dave said.
“I don’t know what to make of it,” the first man said. “You hear about shootings and knife fights, but the kids that belong to this extremist group have a real flair for showmanship. I’m sure we’ve all seen the videos. Listeners, if you don’t know what we’re talking about, head to our website. We’ve got a handful of the highlights on there. You’ve never seen magicians like this.”
“Do you think it’s a prank, Joe?” Dave said.
Joe made a noncommittal noise. Dave continued. “The whole thing just seems ludicrous. It’s got to be a stunt.”
“I hope it is,” Joe said. “I really hope it is.”
“If not, where’s the National Guard in all this?” Dave said. “Stunt or not, this business has people scared and leaving the city in droves. Don’t you think it’s about time the law stepped in?”
Lucas slammed his hand against the steering wheel.
“This is so stupid,” he shouted. “There’s a war going on and my side can’t even see that it’s happening.”
I opened my mouth to comfort or console him. But what did I have to say? He was right. His side was being fed lies and shadows, and my side was awful.
“Where to?” he snapped.
“Straight ahead,” I said.
Our car sped forward, onto a winding road up a hill covered in trees.
My phone buzzed.
Isabelle: The Oracle just formally declared a “difference of opinion” with Queen Amani. Will keep you posted.
A second later, it buzzed again.
Daniel: Oracle & Amani are officially on opposite sides. Gloves are off. Where are you?
Before I could answer, another message came through.
Mom: Dad said the Oracle just made a statement that she’s no longer cooperating with Queen Amani. She’ll make an announcement later, but I thought you should know. I never thought I’d see this happen.
Mom: Please be safe. Text me back so I know you’re okay.
Safety wasn’t something I could promise anyone right now, but I quickly texted back: I’m okay. Thanks. Love you.
I was going to throw up. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window and forced myself to breathe.
“Turn right up here,” I said.
Lucas nodded without taking his eyes off the road. I could see the thoughts racing in his mind, hidden behind his tense forehead and sharp, darting eyes. But I didn’t know what the thoughts were. I didn’t think I wanted to know. Chances were too good we Glimmers deserved them all.
“Thank you for helping me,” I said.
His jaw softened, just a little bit. He looked over at me, and nestled somewhere in the anger and frustration was concern.
“Sure thing,” he said. “That’s what friends are for.”
I held out a hand across the gap between our seats. He hesitated, then took my clammy hand in his. He kept his eyes on the road, but I felt his skin warm against mine. He squeezed, gently enough that I might have missed the gesture had not all my senses been on edge.
“I want to say it’s going to be okay,” I said.
But I couldn’t. It would be a lie.
He bit the inside of his cheek.
“Me too,” he said.
“Have you heard from your mom?”
�
�Yeah,” he said. “She’s okay.”
I nodded and went back to watching the skies. Ahead of us, the distant blue figure of a sprite leapt between the treetops and was gone. I ran my free hand along the chain that held the Multnomah pendant.
Why had Imogen been able to see me? The other sprites hadn’t noticed me, even when I’d been right next to them. I’d even brushed against a sprite girl’s hair and gotten nothing. But Imogen had seen me from feet away.
It seemed Amani couldn’t protect me from everything.
The road curved and climbed up a hill. The trees grew denser, their branches hung with dripping pale lichens and dense emerald moss. The forests in this part of Oregon always looked mysterious, but today, these clusters of foreboding trees felt almost too normal. What was hidden between them was so much stranger and darker.
“There’s a pull-off up here,” I said.
I recognized the area from Amani’s directions. But when Lucas pulled into a parking space next to a trailhead and cut the engine, I felt that we were in the right place. Above our heads, outside the car, the trees seemed to crackle with warning. I peered up through their branches and into the dense woods, but we seemed to be alone.
The Oracle wouldn’t let anyone know what was here; not even her sprites. It had taken Amani years to figure it out.
“I’ll come with you,” Lucas said.
I shook my head with a vehemence that startled even me.
“No,” I said, too loudly. He was already risking too much by being with me.
“Amani’s necklaces have hidden us so far,” I said. “But the Oracle’s more powerful than a whole club of sprites. She’s keeping a close eye on me, and probably you, too. That’s why Amani hadn’t been talking to me, did I tell you? She wanted Kelda to think we’d dropped our connection.”
For a brief instant that was gone too soon, I felt calm.
Somehow, on a selfish level I would never admit to out loud, I would rather be in the middle of all this with Amani on my side than be outside of it without her.
Humdrum college was still in my future, and I still wished Kelda had just stayed sane. But this had happened, and the only thing I could do was help Queen Amani until I couldn’t help her anymore.