“We are the wisps,” she says. “Messengers of the In-Between. Dreams and tales and song and poetry. Thoughts and cares. Wishes and comforts.”
“Messengers?” I ask.
“Messengers, oh, yes. Sometimes. And I bear a wish for you. Courage. Courage and clarity for the Champion of Light. For the Ambassador of Kythshire.”
“Thank you,” I smile gently.
“But there is more,” the blue wisp dims slightly. “A message: ‘My trusted friend, Daughter of the Elite, watch over my daughter. Keep her safe. Keep your promise. Honor my reign by ensuring hers. Set her upon the throne.’”
“Is that,” I ask thickly around the lump in my throat, “is that from the king? From Tirnon?” I glance at Rian, but he’s too engrossed in his own conversation with the yellow wisp to notice.
The blue wisp giggles again and lifts off from my palm to float beside its yellow companion. Together, they swirl away and shoot off toward the stars.
Rian and I tip our heads up to the sky to watch them go, and then he turns to me again with such a look of wonder that I can’t help the chuckle that bubbles inside of me.
“I’d tell you how incredibly rare it is to be spoken to by a wisp,” he shakes his head and scoffs with amusement, “but honestly, I think this sort of thing is starting to just be routine for us.”
“What did yours say?” I ask.
“Have confidence,” he says. “Have confidence before your masters. Be assertive. Advocate for the Princess. Open the gate. Yours?”
I tell him what my wisp said, and he nods. “She’s the key to all of this. We have to make sure this doesn’t change her.”
“She’s been through so much,” I say.
Beside us, the branches of Twig’s home rustle softly, and Tib peers out at us.
“Azi?” he says. “I need to show you some things, and then we need to get Margy home before they start to think she’s lost.”
“Right,” I say, and follow him back inside where the princess is sitting in a whispered conversation with Twig, and Saesa and Flitt are still sound asleep. We look for a place to sit, and tendrils from the walls spring forward to make seats for us. Tib looks at his seat with distaste and decides to stand rather than sit. He leans close to me, and the rush of magic beckons me. Here in Kythshire, it’s even more powerful and enticing. It fills me to every pore of my skin. I fight it at first, remembering the archer, but shake my head and clear my thoughts to allow it. This time is different. This time I have permission, and it’s necessary.
Tib shows me everything he’s seen. The Keep, the floating island, the Sorcerers, Eron, the Void, Kaso Viro, he and Margy holding each other. The torrent of memories rushes over me, bombarding me with too much information, too fast. Tib’s mind is quick and abrupt. He doesn’t linger. He shows me exactly what I have to see, and then he cuts himself off so abruptly that my head spins and I cling to the vines of my chair to stop the room from tipping.
“Whoa,” I whisper, and take a deep breath to calm my churning stomach and spinning head.
“Okay, let’s go,” Tib says to Rian.
“Azi?” Rian asks. I can’t do much more than close my eyes and hold my hand up to show I’m all right.
“Oh! Sugar!” Flitt chirps from her hammock and darts across to me. She pulls some sticky cubes from her pouch and starts shoving them into my mouth like she did before we went to see the Fairy Queen. “You went too fast, Tib,” she says to him. “Azi’s not ready for that yet.” She pats my cheek stickily as the sweets melt on my tongue, and I slowly start to feel better.
“It’s fine,” I smile, “but Tib is right. It’s time to go back.”
“Not yet for you, though, Azi,” Flitt says quietly. “We have to pick something up first.” She winks at me.
Rian gives me a kiss farewell that I’m sure I’ll remember for weeks to come. All around us, the others ready themselves to leave. Finally, Tib clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable with our display.
“You have a—” Flitt starts.
“Mage stuck to my face, I know,” I say as I gaze into Rian’s loving eyes. “I don’t mind it so much.”
“If you see Ki,” Tib says, “Can you tell her I’m sorry I missed her this time?”
“I will. I’m sure she’ll understand,” I say.
“Ready?” Tib asks. He reaches for Margy and they clasp hands.
“Ready,” Rian says, reluctantly pulling away from me. He puts a hand on Margy’s shoulder and she clings to Tib. Twig tucks himself into the crook of Margy’s arm.
“Should I wake Saesa?” I ask of my squire, who is still sound asleep in her hammock.
“She can come with us,” Flitt says merrily.
“See you soon, then,” Rian gives me a winning smile before he fades away into the Half-Realm with the others in tow.
“Okay!” Flitt says cheerfully as soon as they’re gone. “Here’s what we have to do.”
“Wait a moment, Flitt. Please,” I hold up my hand and sink back into my vine chair.
“Are you all right?” she asks.
“I will be,” I reply. “The sugar helped, but my head is still spinning. I need a little time to sort through everything Tib showed me.”
“Can you show me what he showed you?” she asks. My stomach churns at the thought of more Mentalism, but I don’t feel like I can deny Flitt after she almost gave her life to try and save the king. I press my fingertips to my pounding forehead and nod.
“Look,” I say, and she comes closer and gazes into my eyes.
To my surprise, sharing this information with her is not at all draining. In fact, it helps me to sort through it all at a much slower pace and make sense of most of it. By the time I’m through, my headache is gone, my stomach has settled, and I feel much better.
“That’s grave,” Flitt says. “All of it. Scary. I told you it was something big. Worse than Jacek. But I never actually saw it. I never knew the details. I can’t believe Tib did that. Wow. But, oh! We have two now!”
“We do,” I say. I can’t help but smile at Flitt. Back to her colorful self, she’s absolutely adorable. My heart swells with love for her. I reach out my hand, and when she settles onto it I can tell the feeling is mutual.
“Lots has happened,” she says. Her light dapples the canopy above us cheerfully.
“Mm,” I nod my agreement. “Lots.”
“Lots more is coming,” she says with an air of excitement.
“Are you ready?” I ask her.
“Are you?” she winks.
“You can’t answer a question with a question,” I laugh.
“Ha! You’re right!” she snickers and pushes off from my palm, and I watch with affection as she flies to Saesa and tickles her nose. “Hey, Squire,” she chirps, and Saesa bolts upright.
“I’m here! I’m ready!” Saesa gasps and tumbles clumsily out of the hammock. Her sword is out in a flash, and she crouches as if ready for a fight.
“Jumpy!” Flitt squeaks. “Put that thing away. We’re going on an adventure.”
“What kind of adventure?” Saesa asks as she sheathes Feat. She comes to my side and checks my sword and armor over. Finding little out of place, she busies herself fussing with the drape of my cloak.
“To the Wellspring,” Flitt grins.
“What?” I ask. “You mean, all of us?”
“That’s right,” she darts around excitedly. “To get the third offering. Are you ready?”
“I think so,” I scowl thoughtfully, “but, will they even let us close to it? I thought we were forbidden. I thought you would have to collect it.”
“Oh, no, silly! I can’t. I’m not a Keeper. You have to present yourself, and you have to ask for it. If the Keepers find you worthy, then they’ll give you access. All right?”
“All right,” I sigh. These things are never as straightforward as one would expect. “So, what do we have to do, then?”
“Well,” Flitt tucks herself into her spot at the crook of my ne
ck. “we have to go on foot. You have to be guided to it. Feel it in your heart. If you can find it, then you’re almost sure to be allowed to collect from it. Cross your fingers, and follow the Light.”
Outside of Twig’s strange home, the sky is just beginning to turn from black to lighter blue. A hint of the sun. A hint of dawn. The grass is wet with dew that clings to my boots as I begin to make my way. Saesa keeps close by my side, and Flitt stays quiet in the crook of my pauldron. The beauty of Kythshire surrounds us. Even in this dim light, it’s easy to be enchanted by the trees and flowers and perfumes lining our path. Nestled between fronds of grass and fern, the ground glitters with scattered gems. My ginger steps make every effort not to disturb any sleeping fairies or other creatures as we walk, and I can tell that beside me, Saesa is just as aware of how destructive the two of us might be.
“Flitt,” I whisper softly, “could you light our way, please?”
“Sorry, Azi,” she replies. “I can’t make it look like I helped you. I’m only here to watch.”
“I understand,” I say, and think about drawing my sword. Mercy’s light could guide me, but I don’t want to seem like a threat. Instead, I pause to close my eyes and search with my heart. I have never seen a map of Kythshire. I have no idea where Twig’s bush is, or where Flitt’s Grotto is, or The Ring, or The Crag, where Iren watches over the North. I’ve been to all of these places before, but I could always just think of them and close my eyes and appear there. This time, I have to center myself and listen. The forest is rich with life, even before the light of dawn. Birds are just beginning to sing, and crickets chirp sweetly. Nearby, a trickling stream babbles past.
I try to center myself in the moment and feel everything around me. The ground beneath my feet is soft grass and damp earth and roots. The earthy scent of the forest is sweet and familiar. It reminds me of my escapes with Rian in the Forest Park and the journey with my parents to escort Amei and Eron. Pleasant memories. I begin to walk again, this time keeping my eyes closed. A glimmer of a sunbeam flashes across the red insides of my eyelids like a beacon. I turn my face toward it and see the light clearly, but when I open my eyes again, it’s just as dim as it had been. Still, I’m sure of what I saw. I pick my way carefully through the dewy grass and wildflowers and head straight in that direction. At my shoulder, Flitt snores softly.
We walk through the dawn into early morning and stop only briefly to drink from a gem-strewn brook. We pluck ripe summer strawberries from blooming vines along the bank and find they’re the sweetest we’ve ever tasted. Saesa asks me about the evening before, and I tell her about Tib’s visit. She tries to seem like she doesn’t care that he didn’t think to wake her and say hello, but I know her well enough to see her heartbreak. I decide it would be best not to tell her about how close he seemed to Margy in the memories he showed me. Something is developing between him and the princess, but it will pass. It has to. Margy is destined for Brindelier, for the twin prince in the story who lies in enchanted sleep, waiting for her. Tib knows it as well as any of us do. He’s smart. It will occur to him eventually that he and the princess aren’t meant to be. Maybe he’ll realize he and Saesa are a better match. Either way, I decide to stay out of it.
We keep walking through the afternoon and into dusk. The stars come out one by one, shining down upon us, and still I follow the light behind my eyes which guides me, I’m sure, to the Wellspring. Saesa never complains or asks to rest. She is a diligent squire, quiet and true. Sometimes Flitt drifts behind us on our trek, and other times she rests at my shoulder. The path is winding and treacherous in places, up hills and down again. Parts of it are covered in glittering, sheer crystals of quartz which catch the light like Flitt’s diamond, other parts have us wading through thick fields of fragrant blossoms. My armor, dew-soaked as it is, never seems to hinder me. In fact, at times I feel it’s helping to guide and energize me.
Night is washed away by dawn, and dawn gives way to morning, and still we walk. The landscape of Kythshire is more beautiful than I ever could have dreamed. My journey heals my grief over the loss of the king and soothes my fears about the future of Cerion. With every step I feel closer to this place, more a part of it. I understand this is why I was meant to walk and not travel with my wishes, with my mind. So I could see the vast, true beauty of this land. So I could learn about it and appreciate it. Everything here is a wonder. Every knot on a tree tells a story. Every blade of grass is an honored inhabitant. And everywhere, the fairies linger. Some of them are bold and friendly and rush to greet us and sing to us as we pass. Others hide behind leaves and bark and peer with curious, wide eyes.
I lose count of the days as Saesa and I travel in silence. Time passes differently here, I’ve been told before by both Rian and Flitt. I never worry for what’s happening in Cerion. I know this is where I’m meant to be now. This is my part in the song. I have the King’s blessing. I do this to honor him.
Several days pass, possibly even a week before the Wellspring reveals itself to us. It happens suddenly, as Saesa and I pick our way down a steep embankment into a lush ravine of ferns and bright purple blossoms. I feel it before I see it: The promise of something sacred, something special. Treasure of the most valuable kind. Power beyond imagining. I stop at the base of the ravine and take a moment to sit on a cropping of pink quartz that pokes through the greenery. The pull of the Wellspring is strong and powerful, and I feel the need to wait and just allow myself to attune to it before I rush in. I remember what the wisp said about the king’s wish for me to have clarity, and I wonder if this is why.
“We’re close,” I whisper to Saesa, who stands beside me with her hand on her sword. “No need for that,” I nod to the pommel and she lets her hand fall.
“Won’t you keep going?” Flitt asks.
“Not just yet,” I reply. “I need a moment.”
Though I feel right in my decision to wait, I realize quickly that sitting was a mistake. The exhaustion I’ve been ignoring over the past many days finally sinks in. I lean back against the stone, close my eyes, and drift to sleep for the first time after many days of travel.
Sometime later, a strange noise wakes me. It sounds like the rush of a wave, but more forceful. It’s difficult to describe. A spark of golden light bursts through the trees only paces away and up into the sky. Saesa dozes beside me, and I shake her awake. Around us, everything shifts. The trees seem to glow with their own energy. The leaves sing perfect harmonies with the wind.
“What’s happening?” Saesa whispers. “I feel amazing.”
“So do I,” I grin and shiver as my skin tingles with the palpable magic that hangs heavy around us. The air glitters with gold like dust in a sunbeam. I reach out and wave my hand through it, and a streak of blue trails behind my gloved hand like a wake behind a ship. In my mind and in the air around us, the low, sweet melody of fairy song rises, welcoming us.
“Go on,” Flitt giggles and taps her tiny hands on my neck as if to push me forward.
We take only a few steps before the lush green leaves of the thicket parts to reveal the Wellspring bright as a pool of molten gold surrounded by a lush copse of forest. I pause as my heart quickens. Its shape is a perfect, measured circle lined with moss-covered stones that sparkle with dew. Fronds of fern and willow dip lazily into the edge of the sun-dappled pool. I step closer and feel the contented energy of these plants as they drink in the power of the spring. Its surface is still and smooth, like highly polished glass. This place is peace embodied. Peace and power in perfect balance. I remember the first time I came here with Rian. Our first visit was accidental and forbidden. That time, I could feel only its power and my need for it. This time, it’s different. I understand what it is I’m seeing. I respect it. My desire to rush to the Wellspring, to touch it, is quelled by my need to maintain the serenity that seems to echo from every tree trunk, flower petal, and gold-splashed leaf.
Flitt pushes on my neck again, though, and so I take a few steps until the toes of my boo
ts touch the mossy stones. The fairy song ebbs and flows on the soft breeze. We stand for I don’t know how long. It doesn’t matter. All that matters are the beauty of this place and the peace and joy it brings me to stand before it. My life could be happily wasted, just standing here.
The golden pool ripples at the center. A pair of glassy wing tips emerge, followed slowly by the point of a spear, then golden hair, then the smoothest, most perfect bronzed forehead, bright yellow eyes, high chiseled cheekbones, perfect lips, smooth, muscular shoulders. The fairy drifts closer through the pool until he is revealed completely. Dressed in burnished golden armor and bearing a spear of glass to match his wings, he stops only inches from me with the tips of his toes still dipping into the pool. This close, I can see that his golden skin bears the Mark of Mentalism, much the same way a Sorcerer eventually goes all blue-black with the Mark.
“Felicity Lumine Instacia Tenacity Teeming Elite Reformer,” he speaks into our minds at the same time his powerful voice echoes from the trees. Behind him, a jet of magic streaks from the pool into the sky. “Flitter.”
“Subtle Acumen Patyr Illumine Ethereal Naiad Crystal Everwatch.” Flitt lifts from my shoulder and sinks into a mid-air bow before him. “Sapience.”
“You disturb the Source with your presence,” he scowls, looking down his nose at me. “Why have you brought these humans,” he gestures to me and Saesa with distaste, “to this sacred place?”
“Sapience, surely in your great wisdom,” Flitt offers a tentative smile, “you know who stands before you. This is my link. My human. Azaeli Hammerfel. The Temperate, Pure of Heart, Reviver of Iren, The Great Protector, Cerion’s Ambassador to Kythshire, Knight of His Majesty’s Elite, The Mentalist. The Paladin, Champion of Light. And with her is her squire, Saesa. And I haven’t brought them. Azi found her own way. She has been tested many times over. Look and see for yourself.”
Call of Brindelier (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 3) Page 42