by Amy Bearce
She huffed and looked at Sierra, who against all odds had become her closest friend. “Our journey to the fairies was easy compared to the land we’re going to.”
“We’ll deal with it.” Sierra crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Yeah, she was going to stick like a burr, that girl. Which meant Micah, too.
Nell blew out a breath. “And it’s a lot farther, too.”
Phoebe jumped to her feet. “Tristan and Mina can get us there even faster by sea.”
Nell would never scoff at the sweet girl but couldn’t stop one eyebrow from lifting. “But wouldn’t we have to climb up on the ice, soaking wet, ready to catch winter sickness in freezing weather?”
“We can figure it out,” Phoebe said. “A boat would cost too much and take too long. The merfolks’ magic has grown a lot since you’ve last been with them. Tristan’s on his way here, and we can ask him.”
Tristan entered the cabin, tying his dark-green hair back as he walked. “We can ask Tristan what? Sounds like I’m interrupting something important.”
He greeted Phoebe with a quick kiss on the cheek. She beamed, but her expression turned serious as she filled him in. He nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes, I believe our magic could mitigate the cold, at least before we fully leave the water. I’ll need to converse with Mina. She’s learned more about some parts of our magic than anyone. She likes to experiment,” he added with a grin for Phoebe, who smiled back.
She turned to face her sister and Nell. “So, Tristan and I will be going with you.”
When Sierra opened her mouth as if to argue, Phoebe scowled at her. The sisters exchanged a long look until Sierra sighed and muttered, “Fine. That’s a… fine idea.”
Despite her worry, Nell had to smother a grin. Phoebe had definitely grown up. Self-confidence looked good on her.
Nell tapped her foot as she thought out loud. “Okay. What about your magic, though, Tristan? Can you be that far away from your home?”
“The Southern Sea has magic in it as well. I’ll be fine so long as we’re not trapped on land longer than a month.”
“If it takes longer than a month, we’ll all be dead anyway,” Nell said. “You know where to take us, then?”
“We don’t usually swim near the Southern Sea because the ice can be dangerous. But yes, I can take us there. Half a day, three-quarters at most.”
Nell’s jaw dropped. “Half a day? To cover the entire Southern Sea?”
He laughed. “Merfolk are fast, and I’m one of the fastest, with Mina and a few others.”
“Well, that’s one good thing. I guess we’ll just have to take our chances when we get to the other side of the ocean.”
She took a deep breath. Sierra was tough, and Phoebe had proven she was too. Corbin did have tremendous knowledge to offer, not to mention the value of Tristan’s and Micah’s magic. All of them had carried a lot of responsibility since the fairies returned, and done it well.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll get our supplies today; we’ll set off tomorrow. It’s going to be a fast-paced journey, so be prepared. I want to be back before this Dragon starts any attacks.”
“Gotcha, boss.” Sierra saluted.
Nell smirked, but then she added in her most serious tone, “One last thing. I’m taking lead on this trip. This one’s mine, through and through. Everyone needs to be okay with that.”
Phoebe and Tristan nodded immediately. Sierra sighed and stuck her tongue out. “I’m sure Micah will agree. At least I can keep an eye on my little sister this way.”
Phoebe wrinkled her nose back.
Nell wanted to smile at the sisters’ antics but couldn’t. Corbin had yet to speak.
He wanted her protected and safe, but she didn’t have it in her to stand off to the side and wring her hands at a problem. And to be fair, he’d never asked her to do so. He encouraged her to lead as the prophetess―he just wanted her to be safer than a warrior’s life permitted. But she couldn’t offer him a single statement of comfort. Her words were trapped in her throat.
He met her eyes with a seriousness he rarely showed. For Nell, that moment stretched on and on, like watching a sword twist and fall from her hand, knowing she’d never catch it in time. Her heart fell as fast as her hope.
Then he nodded. “We all agree.”
A breath shuddered out. “Then it’s a plan.”
Her hand had found its way to her sword hilt, gripping it for comfort. She slid it back. Hopefully no one had noticed. Especially him.
“Your life’s never boring, Nell.” Phoebe said.
Actually, it had been a bit boring. No battles, no challenge. And now that the decision was done, her spirit was rearing to charge like a unicorn racing across the desert. But she didn’t say how much she was looking forward to the change. She wasn’t sure what they’d think.
“No one here likes boredom anyway,” Nell replied instead. “Let’s do this. We’ve got a madman to stop.”
The friends agreed to meet at Sierra’s again in the morning.
Nell and Corbin set off back toward Covenstead. Nell would collect her coins there and go buy cold weather supplies at Port Ostara while Corbin packed medical supplies and food. He had some books written by explorers he planned on reading tonight. She had no doubt: He had books on everything.
Silence filled the air except for the swish of the grasses along their legs and the crunch of pine needles under their feet. As they neared their little healer’s village, Corbin dipped down and picked a steel thistle flower, known for its toughness. It could grow anywhere.
He handed it to her and broke the heavy silence between them as they continued to walk. “You know, I think you misunderstood me earlier about the sword. You’d make a glorious general for any army. You’re like this flower: beautiful and strong. A survivor. But I do think you’re unique in what you can offer in other ways, because of the voice. I know you’re tired of being in the public eye so much, and yet here you’re ready to sign up for what could be a long war.”
She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing and spun the flower stem in her hands, noting the way the pale gray lines shot through the crimson petals. She lifted it to her nose―rich and sweet―and then tucked it into her braid.
He continued, staring at the ground passing under their feet. “And if I’m honest”―he gulped, and the rest of his words came out fast―“I’m a little jealous all this magic keeps happening to everyone else.”
She stopped short and grabbed his elbow. “What? But you were a fairy keeper before any of the rest of us were ever touched by magic.”
“I know, but… I’ve studied magic and magical creatures my whole life, you know? And I’m thankful for Grace, so thankful. But the two people closest to me have more magic than I do, and neither of you wanted it. Sierra has her special fairy keeper mark and extra closeness with Queenie. You have the voice and your prophecies. And it’s not just you two. Tristan and Micah are literally magical. Even Phoebe held the power of the entire ocean in her hands. What can I offer that one of you can’t? I don’t want to ever lag behind or slow you down. I’m not proud to feel this way, but I do.” He hung his head.
She faced him fully and tipped his chin to make him look at her. “Listen up. You’re the one who keeps us going. You are hope and light and all the good things Aluvia has to offer. You have more knowledge than the rest of us put together. You have a huge value to us―and to me.”
That was as close as she would get to saying she loved him. Too painful to be so close but so far from the commitment she both longed and feared to give.
Flushed a bit, Corbin shoved his hands in his pocket, fidgeting from foot to foot. “I’m glad you think so, but I’m also a coward. I don’t want you on the frontline in a war, not a war so big the voice is involved. I’m afraid for you, no matter how good you are, for what risks you’ll take. You sometimes seem to think you have to do it all, that you’re alone in this battle. And you’re not. I don’t want
to lose you.”
He looked up and met her eyes. His sincerity ripped right through her defenses.
A flush burned up Nell’s neck to match his, the prickly sensation unmistakable. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she replied in a gruff voice. “But I know we’ll both do what we have to do. I won’t take stupid chances, though. You can count on it.”
Half of his answering smile seemed propped up by pure determination. “I will.”
“Good. We understand what’s at stake, maybe more than anyone else. For me, that means defending our people in all ways, with or without a sword. For the sake of Aluvia.” She raised her hand, palm facing forward, and held it toward him in the traditional motion of sealing a deal.
He sighed but didn’t move. Her hand seemed to stay poised for an eternity, waiting for his acceptance, his agreement and acknowledgement that she had to protect others from the threat of the Dragon if she could.
Fear gripped her, fear that her refusal to lay down her sword had sliced too deeply between them after all. But then, slowly, he reached out and pressed his hand against hers, palm to palm.
“Aluvia comes first,” he said.
While their hands were still joined, the voice whispered, He believes Aluvia is first in his heart, but it is not. Not yet. But one day he could place Aluvia first and be transformed.
The voice felt smooth in her mind, so natural she didn’t stumble or feel shocked. It felt more like a part of her, woven together, knitted as one thing. The realization sent chills down her back. She wanted to separate from the voice, not grow closer. But she directed her thoughts away from that creepy idea, focusing on the words themselves.
Something else besides Aluvia came first for Corbin? His fairy? Or Nell herself? She didn’t dare believe such a prideful notion, though it soothed something in her to think so. She stared at him as they continued along the pine-strewn path. She’d never forgotten that he and his queen had stopped the local fairy swarms that killed her father. Corbin had brought safety to her young life once again. And she’d cared for him ever since, secretly at first, and now openly.
“What?” he asked. His brow wrinkled.
“Nothing. I’m just thankful for you.”
She’d tell him about the voice in her mind later. After his vulnerable confession, a revelation about more magic in her life would be a slap in the face. She’d tell him before they left, though. She’d tell everyone. They all needed to know the voice was doing something new. She didn’t know what it meant, but she knew it changed things.
journey took careful planning, especially one that could turn into a battle. Nell packed her merfolk-made backpack with a bedroll and first-aid kit, including a flint stone and a small tinder box. She stared at the wooden matches and hoped the merfolk truly knew how to make bags waterproof, or this would be one short trip.
She added a few shirts and pants, a cloak, and would bring all her weaponry, of course―her arrows (only the best, too, fletched with griffin feathers), longsword, dagger. She wore them all the time. She packed an extra bowstring in the oiled cloth that would also serve to polish the dagger and sword. A sharpening stone and a length of rope went into the pack’s side pocket, cinched closed for safekeeping. And she still had all the winter supplies to buy.
Her heart lifted as she worked, and she froze at the realization she was preparing for a possible war―happily. Discomfort squeezed her belly.
She thought she’d accepted her calling as the peaceful holder of the voice, and here she was, as eager for violence as ever. She shook her head free of the judgmental thought. No. It wasn’t what she felt that mattered; it was what she did. On impulse, she pressed the flower Corbin had given her between the folds of a plain piece of parchment and tucked it in the corner of her bag, a small smile on her face.
After a late lunch of smoked fish and crackers, she set off toward Port Ostara for supplies―and information. She’d stop by the local crew’s distillery on her way. Two birds, one stone.
Slanted roofs of ancient shacks lined up along the wharf. Since the loss of the Flight trade four years ago, the crew’s top alchemist, Carrick, had moved the distillery closer to the big port town where the poison business was brisker.
Smoke was already funneling out of the chimney, smelling of sulfur and burned sugar. The front door was locked, but she simply pulled out her lock pick. A few jiggles and a hard kick and, boom, door open.
“Hey there, Carrick.”
“Nell! What are you doing here?” The man had his sleeves rolled up and eyes squinted against the fumes of the distillery.
Nell leaned over and sniffed the vials lined up next to the door. Acrid, with a hint of ginger. “So, Blind Man’s Poison today? A special order for anyone I know?”
She smiled sweetly but pulled her dagger from its sheath.
Carrick threw his hands up. “Look, you know the deal. I don’t ask questions. I just make what they need.”
“And do they need some kind of magic potion that tames wild dragons?” She stepped to the cowering little man. “Tell me, Carrick, did you create a secret potion for the Dragon-man?”
“No, I swear. He’s done that all on his own. I think it uses nectar but something else, too. I can smell it. Maybe dragon’s blood, since he can ride them now.”
Her head swam. “So, it’s true? He really can fly a dragon?”
“Aye, I’ve seen him riding one. High in the sky.” Sweat dripped down Carrick’s cheek.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She’d honestly thought Jasper had lied. Carrick, though, she believed. This was worse than she expected. “Is there a way to stop him?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like him.”
“But you’re the master alchemist now!”
“I’m a beginner compared to the Dragon.”
“Have you met this Dragon then, personally?”
He paled. “No. And I don’t want to.”
“But you’ve declared your servitude to him?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Didn’t have much choice. Jasper signed us all up, so to speak. The men over in Port Iona and us, we’re one big crew now, all serving the Dragon.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Well, you don’t see me dead, do ya?”
Well, he was a little gray, Nell noted, but from fear. The whites of his eyes showed, and his hands shook. She considered the times he’d snuck her healing potions after her training sessions with Jack. With pursed lips, she took a big step back to let the poor man breathe a bit.
“I need more information about him, Carrick. What’s his weakness? Everyone has one.”
“I don’t know, I swear! I just know he demanded our loyalty in payment for our lives.”
“You can do better than that.”
“Uh, he says he’s gonna force the magical creatures to serve humans again. And he never takes off his mask. That’s all I’ve got on him!” Carrick’s face crumpled.
Then a familiar feeling stole over her. The voice poured from her, with just the one terrified man to witness it.
“You must look more closely to see behind the mask. Potions won’t save the dragons or defeat the one who covets their power, but the fiery sword can.”
Her voice echoed through the chamber. Carrick cried out and dropped to his knees.
Nell was struck by a feeling of other-worldly anger. The power behind the voice was growing impatient. She’d heard the voice’s words as clear as a bell, not muffled at all. She wondered why.
In her mind, she received an unexpected answer. There’s more magic available to us now…The earth has spoken, and the sea has finally risen to power… Now we are but missing one more… And you can be freed.
“What do you mean?” she asked the voice. Her heart sped. Freedom? From her role as mouthpiece? Or from the coming tyranny of this Dragon?
“I don’t mean anything!” Carrick shouted from his position on the floor.
The only true defense against thi
s enemy will bring your freedom as well as the health of your people and the rest of Aluvia. If you so choose.
What’s our defense? And what freedom? Nell thought fiercely back, no longer caring how stupid she felt. How do I know I can trust you?
Don’t you know us by now, Nell? The voice was warm, laughing. Maternal.
She did. She didn’t know what exactly it was, but the voice was on the side of good.
We have waited many years for the strength to reach the one we sensed, one who could carry on as we once did, before so much was lost. You, Nell.
The voice was suddenly far more willing to explain.
It’s time for a change, it said.
Carrick staggered to his feet and brought Nell back to the present moment.
“You tell Jasper to stay away from here,” she said. “Him and the Dragon, too, or I’ll make life a nightmare for all of you, you hear me?”
She stormed out of the stinking distillery toward Port Ostara. So, the sword was supposedly buried in the Ice-Locked Lands, which meant it was in the very same area where the Dragon lived. A man who rode a dragon. Even if he wasn’t there right now, what kind of followers did he have living down there? Was that where he tamed his dragons? Going to grab the sword suddenly looked a lot harder. She kicked a stick in her path.
Well, if you had a snake in the house, you didn’t stand back and throw rocks at it. You cut off its head. She’d get the sword and hunt the Dragon down, even if he rode a dozen dragons.
But she’d better be prepared. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t need a dragon to kill her. The unforgiving land of ice and snow would do that all on its own.
Nell’s list of necessary winter weather supplies wasn’t long, but fur boots and heavy coats weren’t in high demand along the coast. If anyone had them, it’d be Alastair the tanner. His shop sat on the opposite side of town, downwind to keep the fumes away from the port. She’d brought all her money, which wasn’t much. No one paid in coppers for prophetic warnings.
She gave a whisper of thanks at the open sign on the door. The strong smell of tanning leather floated out from the shop. When she entered, a bell chimed. Saddles, reins, belts, and bags of all kinds hung from wooden pegs on one wall. Awls and knives were strewn behind the counter within reach. If she’d had a mind to, she’d have a lot of weapons at her fingertips.