“Keep making it splash,” Saesa says, hitting the creature’s fist again as it drives toward her. She’s drenched to the waist now, her hair limp and dripping. “It’s weakening it!”
That gives me an idea. I sheath my weapons and grab the bucket. Saesa blocks another punch with a swing of her sword and a wet fan of droplets.
I dive at the golem with the bucket. Scoop as much of its torso as I can away. Toss the water out into the street. The golem stumbles. It’s smaller now. A little shorter than I am. I do it again and it shrinks to my chest height.
“It’s working!” Saesa whoops. She’s too quick to celebrate, though. The golem dives at her with all of its might, hitting her with the full force of an ocean wave. It crashes down over her, sacrificing itself for one last powerful attack. Saesa is thrown back against a shelf. She hits it hard and the remaining bottles and powders tumble over her as she sputters and coughs, half-drowned.
“Saesa!” I leap toward her. Her face is covered with green powder. Something purple and jelly-like oozes across her chest.
“It’s all right, Tib,” she says cheerfully, pulling herself up out of the multi-colored puddle. “We did it! Wow, I feel great. Nothing like a good fight to get the blood moving. Let’s go do something daring. I feel like I could take on the world.” She takes my hand. Instantly, something changes in her. She turns to me slowly. Gazes into my eyes.
“I have something to tell you,” she whispers, her expression serious, her eyes wide. She moves closer. Leans against me. Keeps staring. Her face is splashed with pink potions. The green powder is soaking up the water, crackling. Her hair is caked with something black that smells like tar. I look away from her to the shelf of smashed potions. She could be under the effect of any of them. Or all of them.
“What?” I ask a little reluctantly. She moves closer. Tilts her head down to look down at me. Her eyelids droop a little. I have no idea why she’s looking at me that way. Dreamily. Maybe one of them was a sleep potion.
“Tib, I can’t hide my feelings anymore,” she leans closer until our noses are almost touching. Tilts her head to the side. Closes her eyes. Her lips brush mine. I lean back and look over her shoulder where Zeze has just jumped up onto the railing above where the bucket of water had attacked us.
The stall banners rustle behind her. I glimpse that same flash of yellow silk and it finally dawns on me. I step around Saesa and squint past the curtain.
“Loren!” I shout, and the Mage jumps up from his hiding place.
“I didn’t know it was you!” Loren cries. He backs up against the silks. Zeze saunters along the rail behind him, flicking her tail into his face. “It could have been anyone!”
Saesa leans heavily against my arm. At first I think she’s crying. Her forehead rests on my shoulder. Her body shakes. I pat her awkwardly.
“Come out of there,” I call to him. “Tell us what happened. Where is everyone?”
Loren hesitates, but he does as he’s asked. As he moves closer I feel the wards heavy on him. Look-aways. Anyone else would have surely passed him by without a second glance.
Beside me Saesa snorts, and I realize she isn’t crying after all. She’s laughing. The snort makes her laugh harder. She doubles over in a fit of giggles. Loren watches her, wide-eyed.
“See what you did?” I scowl and rest a hand on Saesa’s back.
“It was just a water golem. I had to protect myself,” Loren says. He does look regretful, though. “Looks like she got a pleasure potion almost full on. That’s the green powder,” he says, bending to examine Saesa. His assessment makes her laugh even harder. She’s down on one knee now, gasping for breath between peals of it. “You’re only supposed to use a pinch.”
“All right, Saesa, hang on. We’ll fix this,” I say, looking around. Zeze has moved to the side rail of the stall now. She sits there, watching us patiently. Beneath her is a barrel of rainwater. She stands and paces again, mewling softly.
“Will it help if we wash her off?” I ask Loren. He follows my gaze to the barrel and nods.
“It should,” he says.
“Help me, then.”
Together we lift Saesa up by the elbows with some difficulty. She’s laughing so hard we can barely keep a grip on her, and she’s fairly heavy in her wet studded leather.
“Sorry about this,” I murmur to her as we reach the barrel. We struggle to lift her up, and then plunge her in headfirst. Zeze hops down to avoid getting splashed.
Saesa comes up instantly, coughing and swinging. I dodge her fist easily, but Loren is right beside me. Before I can pull him away, she makes contact and knocks him out cold.
“Saesa!” I cry and grab her hand. “Stop!”
She shakes her head and wipes the water from her eyes. When she sees Loren passed out on the wet cobbles, she gasps.
“Was that me? Oh, I’m sorry!” she exclaims. She sinks to her knees and pats his face with her palm gently, trying to wake him.
I try hard not to be annoyed with her. I haven’t always been immune to the effects of magic. I know what it’s like to act under the influence of it. To have no control over yourself or your actions. Still, between the man at the conclave and the way she acted after the potion took hold, I know she’s vulnerable. Whatever is happening here in Cerion, Saesa doesn’t have the same protections I do. She needs to be shielded from it. She’s better off at home.
“Come on,” I say to her. “Help me carry him. We’ll take him to Nessa’s.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t argue. She hefts him under his arms and I get his feet, and we hurry along the deserted market street. When we arrive at the manse, it seems just as quiet. Just as deserted, except for Zeze who is there waiting for us. She licks her paw casually on the stoop as Saesa and I struggle to get Loren up the steps.
We stop at the door and Saesa looks at me hesitantly. I know what she’s thinking. What if no one is inside? What then?
“I’ll go in first,” I say, setting Loren’s feet down on the stone gently. Saesa nods her agreement and I push the door open slowly.
I’m greeted by a blade at my throat. As soon as he recognizes me, the admiral takes his sword away and pulls me inside.
“Tib,” he lets out a sigh of relief. “My apologies. Come in, quickly.”
“It’s okay, Saesa,” I say, and the Admiral peers out at her. His eyes drift to Loren, who’s just starting to stir.
“Who is that?” he asks with an unusually stern tone.
“His name’s Loren,” I say.
“He’s a Mage. Do you trust him?” the Admiral asks.
“Who is it, darling?” Nessa asks, coming out from the sitting room. In the doorway, Lilen and Emmie poke their heads out to see.
“Tib!” Nessa gasps. “Saesa! Thank goodness! We were so worried. Don’t linger in the doorway. Come in, quickly!”
“Not the Mage,” the Admiral says as Saesa starts to drag Loren over the threshold.
“Oh, but Tristan, he’s just a boy,” Nessa says, rushing to help Saesa. “He’s been hurt. What happened?”
“I punched him,” Saesa says, wincing. “It’s a long story.” Nessa clicks her tongue in disapproval.
“Lilen,” Nessa says, “come look. Do you recognize him?”
“Close the door,” the Admiral orders again, shaking his head in defeat. Everyone knows it’s useless to argue with Nessa where stray children are concerned. Zeze slips in as I shut the door. Inside, the others crowd around Loren.
“I’ve never seen him before,” Lilen says. “He’s not from the Academy.”
“He’s an islander,” I explain. “From Stepstone. He was delivering something for the Prince, to protect him.”
“Prince Eron?” the Admiral asks darkly.
“No, his son,” I reply. “He brought something for Amei so the young prince would be safe.”
“Well, if he is an ally of the princess, then he’s certainly welcome,” Nessa says decisively. “Settle him upstairs in the spare room. Put a sleep
on him, Lilen, for now. Just to be safe.”
The admiral takes Loren from Saesa and carries him upstairs, and Lilen follows behind looking smug. When they reach the top, Nessa turns and throws her arms around the both of us. I know better than to squirm away. I just let her hug me.
“We were so worried,” she says.
“Can’t breathe,” Saesa gasps.
“Why are you soaking wet?” Nessa asks, holding her at arm’s length. She draws her in for a hug again. “Never mind. I’m just glad you’re safe. When you didn’t come home, we feared the worst. Raefe insisted on going to look for you. Then the decree went out and Tristan refused to let anyone else leave the house.”
“Decree?” I ask.
“His Majesty has issued a decree,” Nessa explains as the admiral and Lilen come back down the stairs. Emmie clings to her waist and Ruben stands with his arms crossed, listening. “That any citizen loyal to the throne should seek shelter until the threat has been assessed. Anyone found wandering streets will be considered suspicious, and held for questioning. All business within the kingdom has been halted.”
“For how long?” Saesa asks. She tries to extricate herself from Nessa, but it’s no use. She’s got us both in a tight hug, as though she’s afraid she’ll lose us again if she lets go.
“As long as it takes, I imagine, to find whoever was responsible for the attack on the High Court,” Admiral Ganvent says.
I think of the man in blue robes peering through the tall windows, then standing on the platform with the bag holding Eron’s bloody head. I remember the black fairies with their scaly skin and skin-like wings. How they all vanished. I shake my head.
“They can’t keep the city closed up that way,” I say. “It could take weeks to find that Sorcerer. Months. It could take forever.” I think of the empty market streets. The people walled up in their houses. What the man in the Conclave said about Cerion. “The city will die if people are made to stay inside. People will starve.” Saesa and I exchange worried looks.
Emmie looks up from Nessa’s skirts, her eyes brimming with tears. Ruben leans to her. Puts his arms around her.
“It’s all right, Emmie,” he whispers. “Don’t be scared.”
“Oh, Emmie,” Nessa offers soothingly, “come, let’s find a game to play.”
She gives us one last squeeze and then ushers Emmie into the parlor. When they’re out of sight, Saesa looks from me to the admiral.
“Raefe’s out there looking for me,” she says with concern.
“I know where this is going,” Ganvent says. “There’s too much of a risk. Raefe can hold his own. Even if he’s brought in, he’s innocent. They’ll escort him here. He’ll be fine.” The firmness of his tone leaves little room for discussion. “Go upstairs and dry off, Saesa.”
“Surely you could go looking for him,” I say to the admiral. “Couldn’t you?”
“And directly disobey explicit orders from His Majesty?” he shakes his head. “Absolutely not. My place is here, keeping the rest of my family safe. Don’t you get any ideas either, Tib.”
Saesa stomps upstairs, glancing once over her shoulder at me. I know that look. I nod to the admiral and trail behind her, taking the steps two at a time.
We duck into my room, where Zeze is curled on my pillow. She opens one eye as I shut the door, then closes it and goes back to her nap.
“Tib,” Saesa says pleadingly, her voice thick with tears.
“Tell them I’m napping,” I say, and go to the window.
“What? No, you can’t!”
“That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?” I ask as I shove the shutters open. “Raefe’s out there somewhere. I’ll find him and bring him back here. Don’t worry. If I see any guards I can hide.”
“Actually, I…” she trails off. Whatever she was going to say, apparently she decides against it. “All right. I’ll cover for you.” She crosses to me. Kisses my cheek. “Be careful,” she whispers.
On the bed, Zeze stretches. She pads across the mattress to me.
“Stay here with Saesa, Zeze,” I say as I climb out onto the trellis. “Watch out for each other. I’ll be back soon.”
I climb down and press myself to the wall outside the kitchen door to listen to the street beyond. I’ve never heard the city so quiet. I can even hear the distant crash of ocean waves far below the sea wall.
I try to think of where Raefe might have gone to look for Saesa. The clear choice is obvious. I keep to the shadows and make my way through alley. Pick my way cautiously across the city. East, and then north, toward His Majesty’s Elite’s guild hall.
A couple of streets over from the hall, in the alley behind a baker’s shop, my ears pick up a sound. A whimpering. A shuffle, very slight, just before the street. I turn my head quickly and peer in the direction of it. There’s a crate there, and a pile of burlap sacks. I creep closer and sense it before I see it.
Someone’s hiding in the sacks. Crying. Sounds like a girl. I move even closer. She’s covered almost all the way with the sacks, except for a tuft of white-blonde hair sticking out. She hears me approach and she goes quiet.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispers as I reach her. I crouch down. Pull the sack away. Her face is bruised. Her eyes swollen with tears.
“Celli?” I whisper in disbelief. “What’s going on? What happened? Where have you been? Are you all right?”
“They were chasing me, but I lost them. I hid here, but now I can’t leave. If I do, they’ll find me. They’ll hurt me again, Tib,” she whispers, and the fear in her eyes is plain.
I don’t hear the man creeping up behind me. I don’t notice the shadow he casts over me until it’s too late to react. Celli claps her hands over her mouth, covering her scream. Something strikes me hard on the side of the head, and I black out.
Chapter Fifteen: Azi’s Test
Azi
“The Queen? Right now?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes. She’ll be able to tell me about the Dusk now. I mean us, of course,” Flitt says hopefully. Her light twinkles brightly as she lifts from my shoulder and grows to my size again. The mirror fades away. “Are you ready?” she asks, grinning. “You look perfect. Come on.”
As she pulls me along through the thick grass, I’m taken by the beauty of this place. All the colors are vastly more brilliant here than they are in Cerion. Even the gray mossy tree trunks and the earth under our feet radiate with a sparkling, perfect beauty. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t been to Kythshire in some time, but it feels different to me. Calmer but also more powerful.
“It’s less wild, somehow,” I say to Flitt as we make our way through the grass.
“Less wild than what?” Her wings glitter in the sun as she drifts ahead of me.
“Than it used to be,” I say. “Before whenever I came to Kythshire, I could feel the constant pull of magic. It seemed to always be testing me, changing my emotions. It’s quieter now,” I sigh. “I don’t know how to describe it. Maybe it’s me that’s changed. Maybe I know to expect it now, so it isn’t so difficult to keep it at bay.”
Flitt raises a pink-tinted eyebrow. She shakes her head and giggles softly.
“What?” I ask.
“Azi,” she grins, “it feels different from Kythshire because it isn’t Kythshire at all.” With a gentle tug she pulls me into the air with her until we’re able to see above the grass. “See?”
I gasp at the landscape that sprawls before us. The grass is a simple meadow dotted with delicate flowers of red, orange, white, and purple. Their sweet fragrance is carried past me on the breeze in a swirl of petals that brush my cheeks. Blue and yellow songbirds dart playfully in and out of the grass. Beyond them a towering forest stretches high overhead, with ancient trees that watch over us with silent curiosity.
“There,” Flitt points in the opposite direction, where the sun is just cresting over the horizon. Squinting into it, I can just make out an enormous white flower bud like a spire against the bright
sphere, its petals twisted tightly closed. “Come on, we’re so close!” She tugs me again and I drift along behind her with the tips of my toes brushing the tall grass.
“It’s stunning, Flitt. Where are we, if not Kythshire?” I ask.
“Someplace else,” she answers vaguely as she flies faster into the rising sun. “That’s the Palace of the Dawn.”
When she says it, it occurs to me that the sun is bright overhead, yet it looks like it’s rising against the horizon. It’s an odd realization. “There are two suns,” I say, trying hard to follow the rules of the game we still seem to be playing by not actually asking a question. I can tell she notices by the way she looks back at me and grins.
“At the Palace, it’s always Dawn. Even after the sun goes down everywhere else. The start of the light, where the Queen keeps her throne,” she says. “It’s a safe place where all fae can find solace. Oh, it’s even lovelier than I remember. Have you ever seen anything so perfect?”
The petals fall open ever so slowly to welcome us as we approach, and a golden path of glittering pebbles leads our way.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I whisper as she sets us down on the path. “But why not just appear inside?”
“Ha!” Her laughter echoes through the blades of grass. Towering overhead, giant mushrooms of yellow, orange, and red line the golden path. Upon each of them stands a fairy sentry in full battle gear. Some wield spears, others swords, and still others bows. Their sharp eyes watch us sternly as we stand at the edge of the path. “That would be rich! ‘Just pop in,’ she says. No invitation, no tests. Just appear in front of the Queen! Hello, Your Majesty! Can you imagine?” she looks up at the sentries and laughs. When they don’t react, she rubs her neck sheepishly and looks at me. “Heh,” she chuckles. “Guess I lost the game. I answered a question with a question. It was a good one, though. Nice and long,” she glances at the guards again.
“It was,” I agree with a reassuring smile.
“Well,” Flitt says, her tone that of forced cheerfulness, “see you on the other side, then. Be careful!” Before I can stop her, she vanishes.
Call of Brindelier (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 3) Page 15