by Amy Bearce
As they approached Covenstead, Nell began muttering again. “Idiotic plan,” she said, “Letting him lead us will give him ridiculous delusions of grandeur.”
Sierra ignored her. Nell just wanted to pick a fight. It made her smile a little, the very normalness of Nell’s grumpy response. It was almost reassuring that the entire world had not turned upside down.
They entered the coolness of the forest, crunching on a carpet of brown and yellow leaves and pine needles. It rarely snowed so close to the coast, but frost still bit the air. The red of a cardinal flashed bright against the shadows. A hawk cried high in the sky, hidden by the crisscrossing branches arching over them like hands cupping around a warm flame. Sierra had spent hours in this place, a place where she’d never been hit or insulted. Her stride slowed as she breathed in the chilly, tangy air.
She stopped when she saw the mushrooms, though. They were always running low on mushrooms at the house this time of year. Even though she wouldn’t be able to cook them the way her queen liked best, she figured it made sense to have some of the right food on hand. She was trying to think positive now. Her queen really could be out there, kidnapped or starving, and Sierra needed to be ready. Phoebe needed her to return with a queen.
If the queen was dead, well, then Sierra was determined to capture a wild fairy. She wasn’t above stealing another keeper’s fairies if she could get away with it, either. She’d figure out some way to return them after she used them to get Phoebe free. Phoebe’s survival came first.
Sierra slipped her herb knife from its sheath at her hip and squatted next to the little white patch at the foot of a soaring pine tree. Shiny pink tops glistened as she gently sliced at the base of their stems. She wrapped them in a cloth she took from her pack and looked up sharply to see Nell studying her.
“What?” Sierra asked, unable to resist.
Nell looked like Jack when he was planning a job. He got a gleam in his eyes when he saw a new way to smuggle Flight into a village. If it was right under the noses of the village elders, even better. And when he was eyeing someone he knew must be permanently removed from the scene, his eyes went cold and hard as steel. Nell’s expression looked exactly like that right now.
Sierra stood up slowly, legs tensing. It occurred to her she didn’t know what sort of job Jack actually hired Nell to do and didn’t know what explanation he gave. Whatever Jack had directed, Sierra felt sure Nell would have no problems doing.
Sierra’s mind rapidly plotted out the best paths to run, which way had trees she could climb, which paths had dead ends. She knew this land, and Nell didn’t, not like Sierra did. Every child in their village had played here, but Sierra had combed every surface, looking for whatever her fairies needed, driven by a compulsion.
Nell continued to gaze at her. The hawk cried again, and Sierra shivered despite her winter coat. Nell’s lips lifted as she took note of the response.
Sierra sneered right back.
“Do we have a problem, Nellwyn?” No need to go on a long journey if she was going to start something now.
Nell’s face flushed at the use of her full name, like she’d always done since she was a kid. It was too soft a name for a warrior. They knew all the other’s tender areas. That was rather the point. Prod the angry lion with a stick to see if it would attack. Sierra would rather find out now than later when she was stuck in the wilderness.
Nell snarled but whirled away. “Get the food, and let’s go. If we have to go see Corbin, let’s get it over with.”
Again, her comment puzzled Sierra, but Nell never made sense to her anyway. Sierra faced away, highly aware of the exposed line of her neck as she bent to continue her work. She cut until every last mushroom in the patch was wrapped carefully and stored in her pack.
Nell had walked ahead, a strong silhouette as she stood where the forest ended and emptied into the open glade where Corbin’s fairies made their home. Her hair was tied tightly against her head in her perpetual braid, but wind had pulled tendrils loose from the sides of her face. She occasionally batted at the strands of hair, trying to contain them, but they kept escaping. Sierra walked alongside her and found her frowning and chewing on her bottom lip.
“Ready to go see Corbin?” Sierra asked, a slight emphasis on Corbin.
Glaring, Nell stomped out into the glen. Sierra grabbed her arm without thinking, and Nell jerked away so quickly Sierra stumbled. In less than a second, Nell was standing ready with a knife glinting in the sun, crouched, ready to fight.
Sierra stood perfectly still, trying to radiate calm. Her headache was returning, but she forced a little smile. She was pleased her hands didn’t shake as she left them clearly open at her sides.
“Relax. I only meant this is a fairy glade and you can’t go storming through. You could rile them up, and if they attack, it’s dangerous. We could get really hurt.”
Nell narrowed her eyes, looking distrustful, which was ironic since Sierra was telling the truth.
“Come on, Nell, you’ve seen me all bloodied up before. You know what fairies are like. You’ve seen them swarming.”
Nell shuddered ever so slightly, and Sierra tilted her head as awareness flooded in. Nell’s father had died years ago when she was a little girl. Sierra was six or seven at the time, in fact, and remembered hearing talk that he died from a fairy swarm. There were a number of them in the area before Corbin and Sierra bonded to their queens and calmed down the fairies. Sierra couldn’t help but push to see if she remembered right.
“What a terrible duty you’ve got, huh, Nell? Gotta chase down a queen who might call all her crazed little fairies to attack. Or maybe she’s been stolen by a murderer who’ll try to kill us? Bet you’re hoping for the second option, since you can handle a human. A hatch of angry fairies, though, they could make you suffer. They might even kill you.”
Red flame seared across Nell’s face, and she pointed her knife a little closer to Sierra. She must have hit on the truth, because nothing else would make Nell lose her temper so easily when she was trying to be professional.
Nell said, “If where we walk is so important, why don’t you lead the way, Fairy-Fanatic?”
The name only stung a little. She’d come up with that name years ago when Corbin first bonded to his queen and began spending so much more time with Sierra, the only other person nearby marked to become a keeper. Later on, Nell even threw stones at them if they walked too close to her family’s cabin. Of course, that was after she started working for Jack at the tender age of nine. Things between the girls got worse as they got older, but in more subtle ways. Nell didn’t push Sierra around, but she never missed a chance to insult her, either.
As far as the strangeness of the fairies, Nell might have accepted them at Jack’s place, but she’d never trust anyone involved with them the way Sierra was. Whatever. She had been called a lot worse names since the days when she was seven.
Nell slid her knife back into some hidden sheath in her clothing. Sierra’s estimation of her skills rose grudgingly, and it was pretty high to start with.
Sierra hitched up her pack, thankful for the heat it kept pressed on her back, and began the trek across the field. The grass was brown and crunchy under their feet, with only a few determined white-lace vines weaving through the frosty shriveled blades. No sweet scent floated in the air, not this time of year. In the spring, though, the field was a vibrant green dappled with brilliant purple coneflower blossoms and the searing red and orange of fire-wheel flowers. Heavy perfume drenched the warm air, an impossibly rich combination of passion flowers, fruity honeysuckle, spicy mugstail and more. The fragrance tickled the back of the throat, so thick it seemed like you could eat it for dessert.
Sierra steered them slightly to the left so they could pass next to Corbin’s fairy hatch. She wanted to see what Nell would do. They’d have to be around fairies to catch the queen; she needed to be able to face them.
But when the girls got closer, Sierra stumbled. Even from this dista
nce, the rainbow pile on the ground by the hatch was obvious. She burst into a sprint, Nell right beside her.
“What is it?” she asked, but Sierra had no breath to respond. She had been so sure Corbin would know what to do.
The girls reached the hatch at the same time.
“The fairies are dead,” Nell whispered hoarsely. Her eyes were wide and her face drained of color, bleached like cloth left out in the sun as she stared at the lifeless, glowless fairies. Sierra guessed even non-fairy keepers sensed the loss of so much magic. As a keeper, she felt a hollow space in the area, a lack of magic that used to be there. She hesitated, but she needed to know.
Sierra plunged her hand into the pile, shifting them around. Their cool wings were like old parchment against her skin, crumbling slightly despite her gentle touch.
“Sierra!” Nell sounded shocked, like Sierra had stood up and stripped off all her clothes during a harvest celebration.
Sierra didn’t bother to answer. She knew what she was looking for, and she didn’t find it. She pushed the minuscule bodies around, looking under every part of the pile, until she was sure. Corbin’s queen was gone too.
Sierra knew where she’d find him, and that was where she ran, Nell close on her heels.
Corbin had built a garden when he was ten. He dug and hoed and then brought in even more containers for herbs and flowers. The vivid colors and rich scents attracted butterflies, fireflies and, naturally, fairies. Corbin’s garden was between his house and his fairy hatch. In the middle of his garden, a tiny reflecting pool glittered with a bench-like seat next to it. It was his thinking spot, his special place. He said that when he sat there he knew the earth held him safe.
When they reached him, he was sitting on his knees, arms braced against the ground. Tears still marked his cheeks; his eyes were bloodshot. Nell shifted on her feet and huffed out a breath. He looked up at the girls, dazed, like someone had knocked him hard on the head.
There were many things Sierra loved about Corbin. He was optimistic and happy, one of those rare souls content to bob along with what life handed him. He was happiest when outdoors, like Sierra. Most fairy keepers were. Sierra had wondered if it was a part of their bond with their queen, or if they’d always be this at ease surrounded by nature. Corbin had a happy family, so it wasn’t like he was trying to escape like Sierra often did. He loved his fairy and his calling. But she guessed now that life had taken something back unexpectedly, he wasn’t sure what to do.
When Corbin saw the girls, he staggered to his feet. Sierra blinked, not realizing how tall he had gotten in the last few months. He towered over her and was even a bit taller than Nell, both the same age. Pity swept through Sierra at the sight of her sweet friend looking so sad, and she gave him a hug without thinking twice. He clasped his arms around her and buried his head against her neck, leaning over to do it. His tears were cold in the winter air. The cinnamon honey scent of his charges still clung to him.
When she let go, she was surprised into stillness by the expression on Nell’s face: her teeth were gritted so tightly, Sierra thought they might soon turn into dust.
Corbin looked at the blonde girl in confusion for a moment and then said, “Nell?”
The unspoken question What are you doing here? lingered in the air like the chimney smoke from Corbin’s family’s cottage.
Nell paled and then flushed under his gaze. Amazed, Sierra examined Corbin to see what Nell might be reacting to. He looked much the same as always: black jacket, oversized button-up shirt, and homespun collecting pants stained with grasses and nectar; wavy, black hair ruffled up from the wind; the same amber brown eyes―though his inky lashes were currently spiky from his tears―and skin the dusky color of toasted almonds. That was Corbin.
Most of the village girls followed him around with hearts in their eyes. Sierra thought part of why he liked being around her was because she treated him the same as she always had. He was simply Corbin, her best friend, even though he was a year older. Nell’s obvious dislike of him made it unlikely she was responding to his handsome appearance. Besides, she looked down her nose at girls whose only goal was to be courted by a cute boy. It left Sierra clueless about the source of the tension she felt flowing between them.
Corbin looked at Sierra for an explanation, and she grimaced.
“Jack sent her with me as his enforcer for this trip. My fairies… they died, too, Corbin,” she said, “and my queen is missing, like yours.”
He hid his face in his hands and moaned. She had never seen him like this.
“Why?” he asked, voice muffled through his palms.
“Why is Nell with us?” Sierra didn’t understand the question.
“Why did they die?” he shouted, sending her back two steps. He threw his hands in a wide circle. “What happened?”
A flame of anger spurted through her. “How should I know? You’re the fairy scholar here, not me.”
“Don’t you care why?”
Nell and Corbin looked at Sierra expectantly. Frustration ate at her. Every second they spent debating what happened was a second wasted in setting Phoebe free. “No, I don’t. The point is we need to get them back. I thought… I thought you might be able to help.”
Corbin’s face darkened, eyebrows angling down over his narrowed eyes. Sierra could tell Corbin was about to get upset with her for not crying or something, so she cut him off. “Jack traded Phoebe to Mr. Bentwood. I have to find the queen so I can get her back.”
Corbin gazed at her with his mouth hanging open. He’d had one too many shocks in a day. “Wasn’t Bentwood the one who had a thirteen-year-old runner die the other month? They said she had the pox, but there were rumors she had been starved and beaten for losing her supply during a run.”
Sierra tightened her lips and nodded once.
A long moment of silence filled the air. Even Nell looked shaken, shifting from foot to foot.
He nodded. “Let’s go take a closer look at the hatch. I didn’t really take time to look for any hints about what happened.”
It was clear none of them wanted to go back to that place of death, but with the sun higher in the sky now, maybe they could learn who took the fairies or where they went. The three of them remained silent along their walk.
When they reached the pile of dead fairies again, they stood shoulder-to-shoulder for a long moment. Then Nell said, “Let’s split up and go in different directions. Sierra, you’re with me. Corbin, go that way. See if you find any footsteps or clues.”
Sierra and Corbin nodded, and they all set out. Sierra wasn’t happy to be alone with Nell again, but the older girl was focused now, all traces of sarcasm gone in the face of the mission. The glade was quiet, eerily so, but nothing marred the ground. No footsteps, no claw marks, no magical residue of any kind. Admittedly, Sierra was no tracker, but it was as if the queens simply disappeared. Even Nell thought so, and she was an excellent tracker. When the three reconvened, they walked back to Corbin’s garden while comparing what they saw, which was a big fat nothing.
Sierra sighed. This was turning out to be harder than she had thought.
After a moment of stilted silence, Corbin kicked a tree branch. “I’ll be right back.”
He jogged from his garden into his little house.
Nell looked at Sierra, her silent question loud and clear.
She shook her head. “No idea.”
They sat down and waited, which was not normally a hardship. Corbin’s garden rivaled the meadow in beauty. Evergreens grew along one side, but the other side was open to the rolling hills and the fields. With his patience and knowledge, he never let the spot become empty. Even now, with winter waning, Corbin had several vegetables and herbs growing, along with some velvety pansies with deep purple and yellow petals. But right at that moment, impatience burned a hole through Sierra like a smoldering ember. They had to keep moving. There were clearly no answers here, so sitting was out of the question.
In less than five minutes,
he was back, wearing his thickest boots, sturdiest pants and his heavy winter coat. He had a pack on his back and a keeper toolkit around his waist. “We’re going to look for them, right?”
That moment captured why Sierra loved him and had given him her trust. The smile he offered her crinkled the edges of his clear brown eyes, eyes that looked a bit harder than they used to. For a moment, her stomach tightened with worry as she gazed into those eyes that didn’t quite look like Corbin’s anymore.
“Sierra?” he asked. In that question, he managed to ask if he could join them, if she trusted him, if she even wanted him there, if they were still a team. A world of questions in one word.
“Are you sure you’re okay with coming? We don’t even know where we’re going.” Maybe bringing Corbin wasn’t a good idea. Sierra knew she might have to do things that weren’t quite… legal to get a fairy queen. She didn’t want him to see her like that. Only one of them should be as cynical as she was. He was older in age, but she was years older in pain and bitterness.
“I have no choice,” he said. “My fairy queen needs me too.”
Sierra nearly smacked herself in the forehead. This wasn’t only about her. Of course, he’d never let his queen go without a fight. His calling as a fairy keeper was one he embraced to the fullest. And if she were truthful, she’d be thankful to have him with her.
Nell looked him up and down. Her flush was gone, and she was all business. “Do you have any weapons in that bag? You’ve got a good reach if you can use a sword.”
With a sheepish smile that made him look younger, Corbin pulled out an herb knife much like Sierra’s. The silver blade was only as long as his hand.
Nell didn’t bother to suppress a groan. “That’s your weapon?”
Corbin shrugged and returned the knife to his jacket pocket. “We’ve talked about this before. Not everyone needs violence to win a fight. I know a lot. I think that’s pretty valuable, Nell.” He stumbled a little on her name, and again a flush crept up her pale neck.