by Amy Bearce
A thought drifted quietly through Sierra’s mind. Maybe her queen really was alive and was calling her. The thought felt so right it almost hurt, like Nell’s shoulder snapping into place. Sierra surged up; Micah nearly fell on his fluffy tail. But he stood next to her, almost as if she had ordered him to be a bodyguard for her instead of her trying to help him.
Nell waved her hand back and forth in front of Sierra’s eyes. “Are you seeing weird things again?”
Sierra wasn’t, but as she faced her right, the taste of honey and cinnamon burst on her tongue again. She tilted her head, tasting the potent flavor, so real, so pleasant.
“What would you say if I told you I think we’re supposed to go that way? That maybe… maybe somehow I can sense my queen?” Sierra asked, pointing the direction she was facing. “It sounds crazy, but maybe it takes something crazy to solve the situation we’re in?”
Nell shrugged. “You’re the fairy keeper around here.”
She quickly looked at Corbin, realizing her mistake. Corbin’s face was strange. His skin looked stretched too tight, and dark lines furrowed between his eyebrows. His hands were in fists. He slowly reached to the back of his neck and touched his mark. Nothing happened.
“Why?” His voice was hoarse.
Sierra closed her eyes. She knew what he was asking but had no answers. Nell looked perplexed.
Sierra opened her eyes, forcing herself to meet his anguished gaze. “I don’t know. You don’t taste anything right now?”
He shook his head, his face crumpling.
Nell stepped closer to him, glaring at Sierra. Even without knowing what was wrong, Nell was obviously sure Sierra was to blame. If Corbin wanted Nell to know he had been left out by the fairies, he could share. Sierra would give this up in a heartbeat. If weird lights and taste of nectar were guiding her to the fairies, she would rather pass on the experience than be this out of control. Corbin would have loved to be consumed this way. His face darkened like a raincloud crossing the sun, on the fine line between anger and grief. It was an expression Sierra was used to on her face, not his. It wasn’t a look that suited him.
“This way,” Sierra said, unsure what words of comfort to offer. Sorry the fairies aren’t talking to you? Maybe your fairy is really dead after all? Nothing worked.
They plunged through the trees, directed by Sierra. Each time she paused to choose a possible path, she waited to see if the taste of honey and cinnamon covered her tongue, or the world went psychedelic as if she were on Flight. The episodes reminded her of the fits Gregory the Fisherman used to have, down on the pier. His whole body would convulse, but when he was done he’d dust himself off and wander off unharmed, every time. Sierra’s head felt full of static, a storm looming. Micah followed her like a shadow as they dodged trees, roots, and scrabbly fingers of bushes. The leaves crunched beneath their feet, and soon fresh snow dusted the ground like sugar.
A sense of urgency filled her, rising like rushing water filling an empty well. Her hands clenched, opened, clenched again. She walked faster, her feet flashing under her, uncaring of the many times she skidded on the ice and fell to one knee. The place in her vision was close; she sensed it.
The next time her head started to bow back when the lights descended, a strong arm slid around her waist. Micah’s eyes were dark pools, glowing as the lights danced across Sierra’s vision. Her heart jumped in her chest. She blamed the lights. For one with such thin arms, he had a feeling of contained strength, as if he could lift the ancient giant pine trees straight out of the ground.
They didn’t pause for lunch but continued up the mountain. It was like a hatch of fairies were pinching at her skin, prickling with electricity, as if lightning was about to strike. Micah’s arm was a permanent fixture as Sierra’s breath caught in her throat, her breathing too heavy for speech. It must have hurt him to help her, but he never made a sound. He was stronger than he looked, like Sierra’s fairies.
Two hours into their hike, the landscape changed. Giant boulders jutted from the ground like spears. The trees thinned and then died out, leaving the sun beaming down on their heads. Glaring light bounced off the pale rocks cluttering the mountain and snow blanketed the ground like in her vision. They had reached the top, but there was no cave. She didn’t even know what to do. She glanced around wildly, as if the answer might be written on the rocks. They’d gone as far as they could, where the sharp rocks speared into the sky. Where did they go from there?
Vertigo swamped Sierra. Blackness wavered at the edges of her vision, a new sensation that had nothing to do with the flickering rainbows and pulsing colors she’d been chasing.
“Down! I need down!” she yelled, trying to lie down before she collapsed, but the darkness spread, a heavy shadow, and then all was black.
hen Sierra awoke, she was lying on a fur blanket. The sun hung lower in the sky. She tried to roll sideways, but an arm restrained her, and her eyes flew open. She screamed. A startled Micah screamed, too. She wasn’t on a fur blanket; she was lying on his legs, and they were warm and soft. Her head buzzed, but she sat up. Cheeks burning, she nodded at him in thanks.
His smile was so sweet and unexpected that it took Sierra’s breath away. She had never met anyone―anything?―who made her feel this… safe? Is that what this solid sensation was in her gut? Someone protecting her for a change? And she didn’t even deserve it. The novel sensation left her lungs tight.
He pointed behind her, toward a cave. White lilies with gold edges were blooming at the entrance. A small but vibrant circle of green grass spread from the opening, surrounded by snow. This was the place from her vision.
Sierra’s stomach jolted like she had fallen from a tree and landed flat on her back. Seeing her vision appear in reality made her skin crawl with goose bumps. Corbin paced and Nell leaned forward, waiting, anxious expressions on their faces.
“You were screaming about a cave with golden lilies and ‘a circle of spring hidden within winter’ when you were…” Nell trailed off, apparently unsure what to say for once.
“You were having some kind of fit. We didn’t know what to do to help you. Micah carried you here.” Corbin turned a haunted gaze toward Sierra, as though his memories of the event, whatever they were, horrified him still. Questions filled his eyes.
Nell laced her fingers through his, but it wasn’t to taunt Sierra. They clearly needed each other’s support.
Sierra had no memory of any kind of screaming or fit. At the moment, that seemed far less important that the reality of that impossible cave before her. Maybe she wasn’t losing her mind after all―the place really existed. Her vision about it had to mean something. Hope tiptoed into her, quiet and hesitant, but definitely there.
She stood and faced the cave. No strange lights flashed, but a warmth swept through her, like the tide rising. A sense of wholeness brought peace to her heart for the first time in years, since the first time she bonded to her queen. She didn’t trust the feeling and tried to ignore it, but it was like arguing with someone who wouldn’t speak to you. The emotion kept coming and coming, warring with her suspicion, welcoming her to the cave. Something they needed was in there.
A flash of excitement sizzled through Sierra, curling her fingers into fists. “What if the fairies are in there?” she asked. “A bunch of queens would have a lot of magic. It would explain the flowers and the green grass.”
She gestured at the impossible sight of a lily blooming in winter, the circle of green surrounded by winter.
Nell frowned. “I feel really… strange… about this cave.”
Sierra bet Nell felt worse than strange about it but knew she wouldn’t say so. Corbin had no such problem sharing.
“I tried to go in, but it felt like a nightmare. I don’t know why.” He chewed on his lip and hung his head, ashamed.
Micah smiled and stood next to Sierra, gesturing her forward into the cave.
“Don’t,” Nell said, voice strangled, like the word was choked out against her
will. “We don’t know enough to go in there.”
The entrance beckoned. There might as well have been a string inside Sierra being pulled toward the cave. She took a step forward.
Nell suddenly blocked the way. Frustration shot through Sierra. She was so close.
“Move,” she growled. Her sister’s life was in the balance. She wasn’t stopping now.
“Sierra, wait. It could be dangerous. The faun could be part of a trap, bringing us here.” Nell pointed at Micah. “After you started yammering about caves and snow and lilies and spring within winter, you passed out, and he brought us straight here, carrying you the whole way. He knew what this cave looked like and where it was. What’s his agenda?”
Sierra scowled. “He lives here. Wouldn’t you recognize something strange like this when it was described? Lilies shouldn’t be in bloom in the snow. Why is the grass so green around the cave like that, except for magic?”
She thought Nell sounded like a crazy person, which was an ironic thought coming from a girl having visions. Before she made a snide remark, though, she remembered Nell’s discomfort in Corbin’s fairy field and her fear of the fairies. How much worse would this be? Understanding and a new kind of compassion softened the edges of Sierra’s impatience.
They didn’t know what was in there, and Nell could even be right, but a compulsion grabbed Sierra, much like the way she had to follow her queen when she first called. Music filled Sierra’s head, growing, swelling, crashing into her soul.
“I don’t have a choice,” she replied. “I’m sorry, Nell. I really have to go.” Sierra stepped around, striding to the cave through the snow, terrified and hopeful all at once.
Weaponry clattered behind her, and then she was flanked by Corbin and Nell. Nell had drawn her sword, gripping the hilt so tightly her knuckles whitened. Corbin had drawn his little herb knife.
Sierra’s throat tightened for a moment. They disagreed with her but were still protecting her back. Her breath shuddered out in relief.
She offered Corbin a smile, hoping he knew how much she loved him. She nodded at Nell, a mark of respect. Micah stood right behind Sierra, a solid presence. She reached her hand behind her back. His hand brushed hers, and she steeled herself.
They entered the cave.
Darkness dropped like a curtain as they walked past the entry. Sierra shivered, wrapping her coat tighter. She didn’t bother drawing her bow. She couldn’t hit anything in the dark. The scent of metal and mold made her nose twitch. At first there was nothing but the faint sound of water dripping. They kept walking until the opening dwindled to half its former size. The ceiling arched up into the darkness, and their eyes were slow to adjust.
“What’s that up there?” Nell asked.
Sierra could barely see the tiny forms hanging along the ceiling, row after row of them. She had enough time to think, bats, before screams filled the cave.
A cold swoosh of air flattened her hair against her head. Instinctively, she ducked her chin and dropped to the ground. She gasped as a familiar scent flowed around her: cinnamon honey, so strong she was drowning in it. Not bats.
She scrambled to her feet, a huge mistake. Wings battered her, descending from every direction. She covered her face with her hands and swatted at the fairies. The squeals and shrieks pierced her ears, and sharp fingernails scraped down her arms, leaving bleeding welts. A fairy swarm―and judging by the size, these were all queens. But they didn’t seem happy. They could kill them all if they decided to sting.
“Run!” Sierra screamed.
She headed toward the cave entrance but stumbled over some sort of lump at her feet. She fell hard, shoulder ramming into the rocky cave floor. Moisture seeped through her sleeve from the wet ground. The thing she’d tripped over held a sword that reflected what little light reached this far past the entrance. It was Nell. She was on her hands and knees, head down, arms over the back of her neck, sword sticking up at an odd angle. If Sierra had fallen wrong, Nell would have sliced her in half.
Nell screamed, over and over, with every heaving breath she drew. Fairies covered her like a blanket, swarming. There were too many of them for her to swat away. Where one was thrown off, another latched on. No! Not Nell! Blood welled up on her arms.
Panic seized Sierra. She reached out to help Nell, but a fairy hit Sierra hard in the face, knocking her back to the ground. Queens might be only the size of butterflies, but no bug ever had that kind of strength. Blood swelled in her mouth and she swallowed, tasting salt on the back of her tongue. She flashed back to the moment when she was bleeding on the ground in front of Jack. The queens might not want to be caught, but she had to get one to Jack. She had to save her sister.
Sierra clamored to her feet, some vague idea of charging the swarm in her mind. But before she could take a single step, a piercing pain stabbed her in her neck. Her hand flew to her keeper mark, and her fingers found a queen gripping her, with her stinger impaled in Sierra’s neck. The queen’s wings beat frantically, impossible to snatch. Before Sierra could take a single step, she collapsed.
Liquid fire coursed through her body, a pain like she had never felt. She couldn’t hear Nell’s screams anymore. Sierra was screaming herself.
Lights flashed behind her eyes again, and she felt a rumbling that twisted her stomach even through the blistering heat that seared her blood. She was stung, blinded, paralyzed in a cave full of ravaging fairy queens. The pain, the pain was beyond belief; her mind was dark. Shrieks were glass in her ears. She convulsed on the ground, her limbs shaking involuntarily, her body jerking in a horrible parody of a dance. With each movement, a shock of pain ricocheted through her skin, down to her bones. She feared they might snap in half from the pressure. Heat flamed along her nerves, so hot she felt like she was melting.
Sierra had always heard a sting was deadly. She almost hoped it was true because all she wanted now was relief from this agony. The ground shook more, and dust sprinkled over her face. Even in her pain, she moaned in fear at the thought of another quake. An image of the cave collapsing made her try to jump to her feet, but she couldn’t move.
Something tugged on Sierra’s sleeve, and she shouted, eyes wide, but she couldn’t see who had her.
What happened to her fairy? What about her friends? They came in here for her. Nell was attacked. What about Corbin? Micah? Were they dead?
The unbearable heat faded a little, but she began to fade with it. She didn’t know how much time had passed.
Queen, she thought, drowsy. Did you find me? Queen… we’ve got to save Phoebe… Sierra needed to explain why they had come here, but her lips wouldn’t move, no matter how hard she tried.
Fury at her horrible failure pushed back the darkness long enough for her to notice when the ground began moving beneath her, pinching and ripping at her back. Someone dragged her roughly over the rocky trail until sunlight burst above her, visible even through the dark curtains that had slid over her eyes. Why couldn’t she see? Desperation bloomed as she thought, If I die, what will happen to Phoebe?
Sierra couldn’t move, but she refused to sleep, not yet. Ocean waves of exhaustion crashed over her as the pain receded further. She felt thin, like a shadow on the sand at sunset. Maybe a quick nap would help. A tiny one, that’s all.
A voice echoed in her head.
Sierra.
It wasn’t so much a sound as a word in her mind. The hairs on her arms stood up.
Sierra, Sierra, the voice called again.
And she understood who was speaking. Sierra opened her eyes, and there on her chest sat Queen, legs crossed, utterly composed.
Hungry… the thought floated into Sierra’s mind. Queen had not moved her lips, nor had Sierra, yet she knew somehow her fairy was hungry. Queen missed their mushrooms. Sierra still couldn’t move, but her eyes widened. This had never happened before, but it felt so right.
The mushrooms she’d saved for luring the fairy were in her bag in the lower left pocket, wrapped in a white cloth.
She had refused to touch them even when they were hungry. The only goal for this trip had been to get a queen back to Jack in order to save Phoebe, and Sierra had hoped the mushrooms might help. No sooner had she thought this than Queen flew over to the bag. She dug in the backpack, her wings a blur of gold and red, and tugged out the mushrooms. How did she know?
Moans came from the cave, distracting Sierra from the question. A rush of fear gave her the energy to sit up. The world roiled around her and waves of blackness danced at the edge of her vision, but she didn’t fall over. Queen was busily eating. If Sierra checked on her friends, would Queen leave? Sierra couldn’t let them suffer without helping―she needed to go to them. But her legs were frozen as she stared at her fairy.
Need you, too… the thought drifted to her, as slowly as a cloud crossing the sky on a summer’s day. And then an image floated in front of Sierra’s eyes, the way the cave superimposed over her sight yesterday. This time, Queen and Sierra were on the ground, clearly dead.
Need each other… the words whispered through her mind. They were connected in a new way, a way far more permanent than Sierra ever thought possible. Did that image mean if one of them died, the other one would, too?
Yes, yes…
Sierra stared at the queen, who returned the gaze solemnly without blinking. Was Queen really talking to her somehow?
Together, forever…
Sierra’s fairy mark no longer burned. She tentatively touched it, afraid of what might happen. It was raised now, a tangible tattoo she could trace with her fingers. The delicate wings were lifted like an intricate piece of jewelry on her skin. When her fingers glided over it, she sensed Queen more than ever.
Shock and even fear at this new connection to Queen collided with the river of love and affection Sierra felt from her fairy now. And despite her long-time horror of being a keeper, her own love for Queen rose like a tide, growing larger with every breath, filling her heart. It was like an invisible door had been opened, and nothing stood between them now. Queen was a part of Sierra in a way she didn’t understand. Queen must never leave. Sierra loved her, even while she still resented a forced destiny of service to her.