The Cardkeeper Chronicles: Books 1-5 (Complete Collection)

by A. C. Nicholls

  I followed behind, rushing up the incline and eager to ensure Link’s safety. When I saw him stop, two more faeries stood in front of him like a barricade. I kept my distance. Neither of them looked pleased to see him, but I thought that I’d better not interfere. All I could do was hang back and listen, and be there for my little friend if he needed me.

  “Link,” said one of them grumpily.

  Slowly, weakly, Link waved a hand at the pair. “Iggy. Roz.”

  “What are you doing here?” said the other, a feminine lilt to her voice.

  I squinted my eyes beneath the sun. That really was a girl. It felt surreal to see a female faery – until now I had only assumed that they were all male. My mistake.

  Link inched forward, carried by his wings. He stopped before them and lowered his voice, whispering something that I couldn’t quite make out. Both of the faeries remained silent, listening. The female shot a glare over Link’s shoulder and studied both Jason and me. It wasn’t a pleased-to-meet-you kind of stare.

  Not at first.

  The female’s lips curved into a smile, and then that smile broadened as she took Link into her arms and held him close. Finally, she waved us over, and as we approached, she let Link go and the other male hugged him too.

  “Welcome,” said the girl, her accent as thickly British as Link’s but with more of a Westcountry tint. She flew to my side and greeted me with a healthy white smile. “I’m Roz. Won’t you come meet the family?”

  As she fluttered off into the distance like a butterfly, I exchanged glances with Jason, who shrugged and waved a hand out in front of us. I simply took his hand and followed Roz toward the tents. I couldn’t imagine why Link had kicked up such a fuss about returning home. So far, his family seemed delightful.

  But appearances, as I knew, could be deceiving.

  I could be in for a shock.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The night was full of music and dancing, fire and lights. Link’s family – though not all of them entirely pleasant – made an effort to talk to him, even if only offering small, uninterested comments about his newly acquired wings. It had taken an act of bravery for him to earn them, and he had done so to save my life. For that, I would always be grateful.

  There was plenty of food to go around, mostly small stuff like figs and berries, and some kind of mystery meat too small to nourish a full-sized human. I asked Link to identify it, but he replied with only a knowing smile before turning his back on me and rejoining his family as they danced by the campfire.

  “Probably mouse or vole,” Jason said from my side.

  I looked down at my paper plate with sudden disinterest. I’d had a little something to eat and that was enough for now. More than anything, I just wanted to get down to business, find out who the medallion belonged to, and then get it over and done with. Still, the tempting glow of the gold continued to capture me.

  As time went on, so did the dancing. Two of Link’s friends suckered me into learning a new triple-step dance, and I liked to think that I picked it up pretty quickly. I brushed aside the humiliation and decided to ride the wave of fun instead. It was a shame Jason wasn’t getting involved, but he seemed quite content sitting by the fire and filling up on that bizarre meat.

  Hours later, long into the night when half of the faeries had retired to their miniature tents or carts, my eyes fluttered closed in exhaustion. Every time I looked toward the dying campfire, my lids began to feel heavy and I’d blink myself back to attention. The clock was ticking and I needed to get things done. If only I could find Link.

  I looked around for minutes, and eventually spotted him sitting outside a tent with an older female faery. It wasn’t Roz – her skin was too saggy and her curly hair too white and neat. Besides, I could see traces of Link’s features in her own.

  Trying not to intrude, I slowly approached.

  As I drew nearer, Link chuckled at something the woman had said. When he noticed me, he flew over to my hand, grabbed it and dragged me to sit down beside them. “Keira, this is my mother, Maggie,” he said.

  I didn’t know if it was a proud introduction or a warning. Either way, I smiled politely and nodded my head, knowing that a handshake was impossible without crushing her tiny little fingers. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Ahh, the famous Keira Poe,” said Maggie. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Good or bad?”

  “Mostly good.”

  “Mostly?” I smiled thinly.

  “You’re a Cardkeeper. Am I right?”

  I nodded.

  “Then how could it possibly be all good? You’re destined to make enemies somehow.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Let’s put it this way. If you befriend a vampire, you piss off a werewolf. If you befriend a werewolf, the vampires will take it personally. And you, young lady, are right in the middle of both of those creatures, not to mention the others.”

  I craned my neck to see if Jason had heard himself being referred to as a ‘creature’. Thankfully, he sat next to Roz, staring into the fire. She looked more amused than he did, but at least he was trying to mingle.

  Smiling, I turned back and locked eyes with Maggie. There was something about her that seemed – not only maternal – but authoritative. I also got the sense that I could easily trust her. The way she spoke as if she understood my struggles made me feel like I could open up to her. “You’re not wrong. I make plenty of enemies.”

  Maggie nodded, and turned to Link.

  “It’s not my fault,” he said defensively, as if anticipating a grilling.

  “But you’re safe?” Maggie asked.

  Link nodded.

  “And happy?”

  “More than.”

  As the two of them grinned at each other, I struggled to see how the faeries were as evil as Link had made them out to be. There was no denying that some of them were a little on the miserable side, but mostly we had been welcomed, fed generously, and invited to join them in their festivities. I’d even had a couple of good conversations throughout the night. Now, as the party behind us died out and the music came to an abrupt stop, it was time to address the elephant in the room.

  It seemed Link sensed it too. He sucked in a deep breath and then took his mother’s hand. “Ma, I suppose you’ve been wondering why we’re here.”

  Maggie nodded, wringing her hands together.

  “I… Well… Tell her, Keira.”

  As he flew over and landed on my forearm, his mother’s eyes fixed on me, awaiting an explanation for our presence. I did my best to explain it to her, stuttering when I struggled to recall certain moments, taking extreme caution when I felt as though I sounded accusatory. It wasn’t until I pulled the medallion out from my shirt that Maggie came to life, her eyes widening as she shot to her feet.

  “It’s safe!” she said, a little too loud for my liking.

  “For now,” I told her. “But we need to get it back to its owner.”

  “Oh, that one’s easy. It belongs to Damien Louse. The actor.”

  I shook my head. “I’m afraid he’s gone.”

  Maggie’s expression changed, displaying grim understanding as she cupped a hand over her mouth and stared at the ground. Slowly, she began to pace. “I see.”

  “Ma,” Link said softly. “We know you had something to do with Damien.”

  She looked up.

  “Why did you go to his house?”

  Silence. No response.

  “Ma,” Link pushed.

  When Maggie finally snapped out of her trance, her eyes swept over to me, and then to the medallion hanging on show around my neck. Panic overtook her expression, as if urgency had seized her. “I think I had better go get your pa.”

  “No, please–” Link began, but by then it was too late.

  Maggie had already disappeared around the tent, and while I sat quietly with Link still perched on my arm, I couldn’t help but notice that his petite body quivered with fear. What was so
terror-inducing about his father?

  Moments later, another faery, this one a couple of inches taller than the rest, with a strict, headmaster demeanor hobbled around the corner on a walking cane. His body hunched, his wings hanging lifelessly off his bent back, he made his way toward us and shakily took a seat.

  “Pa,” Link said in a lifeless tone.

  “Shut up and speak when spoken to,” said the old grump.

  Link scrambled up the rest of my arm, taking to my shoulder – to higher ground. “This is what I warned you about,” Link whispered into my ear. “His name is Clay, and he’s a real mean bastard. Just be sure to address him as ‘sir’.”

  I reached a hand out to pat Link softly on the head. It’s okay. I’m here for you.

  “Now,” said Clay, chewing on something that – judging by the smell – could have been tobacco. His cold eyes stared down at his feet, making him look like a blind man. “I hear you’ve been asking about a medallion.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, speaking with caution.

  “And what is it,” he asked, talking between breaths as if it were a great pain, “you want to know, exactly?”

  I reached up and held the medallion, wrapping my fingers around it and keeping it close to me. It was like I was absent-mindedly protecting it, and it reminded me of when it had done the same for me. “It, uh…”

  “Yes? Spit it out.”

  “It kind of… defended me. See, a mage threw a spell at me and it seemed to stop it before it could reach me. Does it have some kind of guardian curse?” If it did, I would be even less likely to give it up.

  Clay laughed, coughing and wheezing, but still not looking me in the eye. “No, young lady. What you experienced was its forbidding power. The medallion disrupts magic as much as it is disrupted by magic. If a spell couldn’t quite reach you, it’s likely because the medallion rejected it.”

  As Link fidgeted on my shoulder, I thought back to when I had tried to create a portal. Had the medallion caused my failure? If so, my magicard would probably prove ineffective soon, too, and then I would be in real trouble.

  “Tell me,” said Clay. “I hear tales of Damien Louse’s death. Is it true?”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hmm.” Clay struggled to his feet, and when Link inched forward to help him, he waved a dismissive hand. Straining upward into a crooked position, Clay met my gaze. “Yes, we’ve had a certain professional understanding with Mr. Louse, assisting him with enchantments such as this. I’m aware of its power and I can tell you that the medallion needs to go back where it belongs. If it falls into the wrong hands, you would find it very difficult to get back. Your own magic would no longer help you, and the decline of your precious Vault would begin.”

  I heard footsteps behind me now, and glanced over at Jason. Too involved in the conversation, I shot him a look that stopped him in his tracks. When I returned my attention to Clay, I knelt to his level. “How do I find the owner?”

  Clay coughed again, this time laughing hard. “You mean you don’t know?”

  “No.”

  “All right, all right. The medallion also serves as a compass,” he said. “A single light will appear on the surface to show you where it wants to be. Only… Hmm, yes… I believe it will close itself off to magic. Only a mortal could initiate the compass. That was why Damien Louse had it; to keep other mages at arm’s length.”

  A flicker of understanding overtook my senses. It seemed that – for whatever reason – the medallion didn’t like magic. If it would block it out, and be blocked by it at the same time, it stood to reason that a mage couldn’t use it properly.

  “Thank you so much for your help,” I said, getting up. “We hate to be rude but we really have to go. We do appreciate the hospitality, sir.”

  Clay nodded but, as I began to leave, he snapped.

  “Not you, Link.”

  I shifted my eyes to my shoulder, where Link swallowed a large lump in his throat, and then turned red-faced to his father.

  “We need to talk.”

  Link turned my way, hugged my cheek and patted me on the temple like a horse. “You go on ahead,” he said, and then flapped his wings with a sort of flickering motion before lifting into the air. “I’m going to have to stay here for a while. But I’ll catch up to you.”

  It caused deep concern for me. I hated to see him so frightened, and even more so to leave him behind to face his fear alone. “You’re sure?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  With that, I departed with Jason’s arm around me, waving to the faeries that were still partying as we crept through the camp and back toward the sewage pipe. Before we passed through, I stopped and took one last, long look back toward the tents, realizing just how much I would miss my dearest friend.

  I only prayed that he would come back.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Early the next morning, I left Jason in bed and returned to the VHS store by myself. I needed to find myself a mortal, hand the medallion to them, and then sit back and watch the world as I knew it return to its rightful state.

  It sounded easy.

  Sounded.

  After several failed attempts to create a portal – this time understanding the difficulty – I finally managed to open the gateway. Without hesitation, I dashed up the cold mountain path and made my way to the Grand Hall, where Dalton stood in wait. I was starting to wonder if this man ever slept. It sure didn’t seem like it.

  “Lady Keira,” he said, turning my way with a look of hope and pleasant surprise. “I trust you found Mr. Louse?”

  “I’m afraid so.” I tucked my hand inside my robe, fishing around for the thing that had caused so much trouble and pulling it out. “And I’m sorry to say that he’s dead.”

  Dalton’s mouth formed a perfect circle.

  “The creepers got him. I’m sorry.”

  I filled him in as best I could on the hell we had been through. He waited patiently, listening in silence as I explained myself and told him of the medallion’s true power. Although the source of said power still remained a mystery, at least now we knew what it could do, and in that, we saw only advantage.

  More upset at seeing the medallion than hearing of Damien Louse’s death, Dalton rubbed his eyes with his hands and spoke in short, snappy sentences. His terse words spoke of a growing impatience, and it could only get worse. “I beg you Lady Keira, put a safe distance between the medallion and the Vault. If it really does dispel magic, the safety of the Vault itself will be compromised, thus dismantling this entire structure. With it, the Sacred Temple of R’hen will collapse and fall into the earth.”

  Jesus, I thought, feeling stupid for bringing it here in the first place. But the old man had a point. The medallion could bring ruin upon everyone and I didn’t want that blame resting on my shoulders. “I understand. Just one thing… As only a mortal can operate this instrument, how do you suggest I go about finding one? Whoever it is, they would need to be strong, confident. Able, even.”

  Dalton’s eyes never left the medallion around my neck as he gnawed on his knuckle in contemplation. When his mouth opened to speak, his eyes finally raised to meet mine. “May I suggest that you do it?”

  “Me? No, I said I need a mortal.”

  “Mayhap… I could render you mortal for a time.”

  My heart started to pound then, the very idea of becoming human striking me harder than I’d ever thought it would. Having been immortal for nearly thirty years, I had no idea what it would be like to be so vulnerable again – so weak, so unable to defend myself. “You can really do that? How?”

  Dalton waved an open palm toward the fire pit. “As you had once become immortal, so shall these embers alter your body in reverse. They ask only for a walk of faith, though I must warn you…”

  This didn’t sound good.

  “You will lose certain benefits of immortality. No longer will you experience speed, strength, energy and magic. Your body will be soft and easily bruised. If
you go through with this, I advise extreme caution. Especially if you are to engage adversaries of higher strength.”

  “You mean…”

  “The supernatural, the cursed. You would die as humans die.”

  In other words: painfully. I stared into the fire, remembering the first time I had walked through them to obtain my first magicard. Who would have known at the time that I would go on to become Chicago’s guardian for the next thirty years? Who would have thought that I would experience victory and loss like no other?

  It seemed a lifetime ago.

  “Will this be a full-time kind of thing?” I asked.

  Dalton’s eyes narrowed.

  “Is it temporary?” I rephrased for his benefit.

  “Ah. Yes, it is. The duration of the spell is uncertain. It can range from one hour to five days. You would not be aware of the transition back to immortality until it occurs, and not a moment sooner. If you decide to do this, I could only suggest that you do so with haste.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. “Don’t fight monsters, work quickly, don’t die. Got it.”

  “Is that acceptance or rejection?”

  “It’s…” I paused, confirming it with myself. “It’s acceptance. Let’s do this.”

  Dalton gave a short nod and turned toward the fires. He spread his arms like an angel, whispering words that weren’t from any earthly language. As he spoke, a soft light trailed from between his lips, snaking into the fires and stretching them into the air. They roared deeply, ablaze with vitality, as I walked through on trembling legs, fearing the burning sensation to come.

  It never did.

  As I emerged on the other side of the flames, I suddenly felt the weight of the medallion hanging by my chest, the first of many things I noticed upon becoming human. For the first time in twenty-nine years, I felt a crick in my neck. My legs ached slightly, even as I stood still. And the fatigue… I could hardly keep myself from yawning.

  “Your magicard, Lady Keira.”

  I spun on my heel, facing Dalton and seeing his outstretched hand. “Oh, right.” I rummaged through my silky robe, finding the pocket of my jeans and handing over the card. I was going to miss that thing. I was going to miss a lot of things.