Evanescent (Chronicles of Nerissette)

by Buchanan, Andria

  Exactly what I was thinking. We needed to go out and meet him. He kept chasing us down, and we were always on the defense, waiting for the Fate Maker and his army to strike and hoping that we could survive it. Now, though, we would attack.

  “That’s a bad idea,” Rhys said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Tahib is on a hill.” Rhys pointed at the map. “And the Firas use it for their gatherings because it was once a fortress. One of your fortresses, from a time when our world was less peaceful, a fortress that was made to withstand attacks by dragons.”

  “We can lay siege!” Eamon declared. “We’ll starve them out. We can win this war once and for all.”

  “If they’re on a hill, inside a fort, they’ll have the advantage,” Winston said. “We could starve them out but that will take time, and while we’re waiting for them to run out of food, they’re on a hill looking down on us, and we’ve got nothing to hide behind.”

  “And then we’re sitting ducks,” I said.

  “Exactly.” John nodded. “They’ll pick us off one by one.”

  “Then let us die like warriors instead of being picked off,” Eamon argued. “We have done nothing but retreat like cowards since these children took control of our world. Instead of looking to them for direction let us, the true people of Nerissette, fight for it. Let us live and die as the warriors we’re meant to be.”

  “And die is what you’ll do,” Rhys snapped. “All of you.”

  “It’s better to die than—”

  “He’s right.” John cut in. “If we attack, we’ll die.”

  “But—” Eamon started

  “And as I am still head of the woodsmen,” John continued, “I say that we find a plan of attack that doesn’t leave all of us to be slaughtered like animals.”

  “This is weakness. Cowardice.” Eamon sneered as he flipped over the table that our maps were sitting on and then stormed out of the tent, his men following behind him.

  “John.” I reached for him but he shook my hand off his arm.

  “He’s young,” he said as he watched his son go. “One day he’ll learn that when the choice is between survival and glory, only the stupid man chooses glory.”

  “So what do you recommend? If we’re not going to take the fight to my aunt and the Fate Maker, what do you, as the generals in charge of my army, think we should do? The cliff plan?” I asked, desperately trying to find a way to change the subject back to the impending battle and off the fracture in the ranks of the woodsmen.

  “The cliff plan,” Winston agreed. “It’ll be just like that movie 300.”

  “With the guys in the skirts?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “We’re skipping that part,” Rhys said darkly as he gazed across the lake.

  “But that didn’t work for the Spartans. Did it? They all—” I stopped.

  “What?” John looked at me. “What happened to these Spartan warriors?”

  “They all died,” I said quietly.

  “Yeah, well, that’s why we’re playing the other guys.”

  …

  I sat on the banks of Dramera Lake watching the sun sink over the horizon that evening. I’d spent the entire day holed up with my generals trying to plan for a battle that could very likely be the slaughter of my entire army if we failed. Now all I wanted to do was be by myself so that I could quietly fall apart for the next few minutes. I was alone except for the young woodsman who was standing guard—well, more sitting, actually—a few feet behind me, staring at the water as it lapped along the shore. I glanced over at my guard, and he immediately looked up from the stick he was sharpening with his knife. I smiled at him, my mind cluttered with dozens of thoughts and ideas and plans, and he smiled back before turning again to his stick, like this was any other afternoon.

  I turned my back a little so he couldn’t see my face and looked down at the new pair of hunting pants that one of the black dragons had found me this morning—too long, and more than a little baggy, but definitely cleaner than the ones I’d been wearing for the past two days. I reached into my pocket and carefully pulled out the mirror shard that Timbago had given me in my dream. “Show me the former queen,” I whispered as I brushed my hand over the glass.

  Smoke filled the mirror, and when it cleared I was looking down at my mother, lying motionless in her hospital bed. Her eyes were closed, and she was sweating. Her hair was damp, and her face flushed. She jerked, her shoulders twitching, and as the mirror moved down the length of her body I could see her legs shifting, almost like she was trying to run in her sleep.

  “What are you running from?” I asked. “What is it that you see? Who is it?”

  Tears welled up in my eyes, and I scrubbed the palm of my free hand against my cheeks. I didn’t have time for this. My mother was too far gone; nothing I did could bring her back. She was trapped—alone—on the other side of the mirror, and I wasn’t sure I could protect her. I was a queen, leading an army, and I couldn’t even keep my own mother safe.

  The dull sound of boots moving through the grass caught my attention, but I didn’t bother to turn around. Instead I stared at my mother and wished there were some way to make her wake up. I wanted her to be my mom again and tell me what to do.

  “Allie?” Win touched my shoulder as he came over and sat beside me. “Are you okay? I mean, well, you know what I mean. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?”

  “No.” I shook my head and rubbed at my cheeks again before leaning my head against his shoulder. “No, I don’t need anything.”

  “Are you sure?” He took my hand in his and squeezed. “I know you’re freaked out right now about what happened at the palace. We haven’t really talked about it, but I can’t imagine what it was like finding those bodies.”

  I laced our fingers together and tried to ignore the way my hands were trembling. “Don’t imagine it. I don’t want you to ever know what that’s like.”

  “If there were some way to make it better, you know I would.”

  “I know.” I took a deep breath in and blew it out. “But you can’t—none of us can. They’re dead, and even in Nerissette they don’t have any kind of magic that can bring them back. All we can do now is finish this.”

  I shoved the fragment of the mirror back into my pocket and turned to smile at him, even though I knew that the edges of my lips were quivering as I tried to keep my emotions in check.

  “It’s okay if you’re scared.” Winston let go of my hand and wrapped me in his arms, pulling me into a reassuring hug. “I am, too.”

  “I know you are, and I can never tell you how sorry I am about that. How sorry I am about a lot of things. I never wanted this to happen. If I had a choice…”

  “I know.” He lowered his face so that his forehead tilted against mine.

  A roar came from the east, and we turned toward the town square. Ardere and a phalanx of gold dragons launched themselves into the air and circled Dramera, standing—well, flying—guard.

  I turned my back on them and stared out at the lake, trying to pretend that my spine was made out of steel instead of Jell-O. I was the Golden Rose of Nerissette. I was the leader, and I was the Fate Maker’s target. I was the one he wanted. He’d murdered so many people for a chance to get to me. He’d destroyed so many lives, and all I’d done was run and hide as he’d chased after me, bringing destruction along with him.

  Well, I was done running from him. I was done running. Period. I’d run my entire life from people like Heidi and Dawn Thompson in second grade who’d called me Stinky Allie the Alley Cat. Now people were dead—Heidi and Jesse and Timbago and all the people who worked in the castle—and I was never going to run again. They deserved better from me than that.

  I looked out over the lake and closed my eyes, willing Talia and the other twenty-three merpeople to appear. I wasn’t ready to admit that everyone was gone. I wasn’t ready to give up hope of seeing Talia again. Not yet. After everything else, I wasn’t ready to let them go th
at easily.

  I wasn’t ready to lose anyone else. No matter what the reason was.

  “Allie?” Winston’s voice was soft against my hair.

  “I’m sorry.” I pulled out the fragment of the mirror and held it up for him to see. “I lied to you, and I’m sorry.”

  “Is that what I think it is?” His voice was low and breathy, like someone had just sucker-punched him.

  “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”

  “You’ve had this the entire time? You had it and didn’t tell anyone? Why?”

  I stared at the small sliver of glass. “I kept thinking, hoping, there had to be some way to use it to get home. If I could just find a way to get us, you, home, then it wouldn’t matter that I’d kept it. You wouldn’t care that I kept it secret if I could make it work in the end.”

  “And did you? Find a way to use it?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I can see through it, but I can’t use it as a portal. I just…”

  “You just…?” Winston asked.

  “I wanted to be able to see my mom. I wanted to make sure she was safe.”

  “I understand.”

  My jaw dropped open at the completely calm way he’d said it, like it was no big deal that I’d kept something like this a secret from him. “What?”

  “I would have kept it, too,” Winston said. “Even though it put everyone else at risk, I would have kept it. I wouldn’t have been able to give up the chance to at least make sure my parents were okay.”

  “Wait, what? But I lied to you. I kept this a secret. And now, the Fate Maker could use it against us if we aren’t careful. Aren’t you even going to yell at me?”

  “Allie.” He grabbed my shoulders and turned me out toward the lake before he pointed in the direction of my now-ruined palace. “I can fight you or I can fight the horde of scary monsters that the Fate Maker has in his army. Which would you like to spend your time on? Us or scary monsters?”

  “Scary monsters.”

  “Right.” Winston spun me back around so that we were eye to eye. “So what are we going to do about the shard?”

  “What I should have done in the first place.” I dropped the fragment of glass and lifted my boot to step on it.

  “Wait!” Winston grabbed my arm.

  I turned to look at him, my foot still raised. “What?”

  “Did you have this the entire time? I mean, since we left the castle have you been carrying it?”

  “No, Timbago came to me last night in a vision and gave it to me.”

  “When? How?”

  “In my dream. Last night, I fell asleep and he was in my dream and he gave me the mirror shard. I don’t know how he did it, but it’s here now.”

  “Then don’t destroy it.” Winston pulled me away from the piece of glass.

  “You just told me we needed to fix this.”

  “That was before I knew that Timbago had given it to you—after he died. A dead goblin brought you a shard from the Mirror of Nerissette in a dream.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think that’s a pretty big sign that you’re probably going to need that shard for something.”

  “For what?”

  “No idea, but if Timbago went to all the trouble of coming back from the dead to give you a shard of the mirror then you need to keep it.”

  “Okay, but if it doesn’t work as a portal anymore, I don’t—” I sighed and turned over the mirror fragment in my hand. I knew Winston was right. “Okay. So we hang on to the shard just in case. Now we just have to wait for the Fate Maker to show up so that we can use it.”

  Great. Just what I loved doing most in the world. Waiting around for someone else to make the first move.

  “The good news is that most of the army has arrived, and the dragon scouts are watching the remaining stragglers. It looks like everyone will be here by dinner.”

  “So we have an army?”

  “We have an army,” he said. He picked up a stone and skipped it across the lake. “And now we just…wait.”

  “That sounds like fun,” I huffed and picked up my own stone.

  “We could play I Spy?”

  I didn’t even answer, just rolled my eyes. Then I looked down at the shard of glass in my hand. “Do you want to see?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice shook, and he kept his eyes fixed on the lake. “If I look—”

  “I know.” I started to slip the mirror back in my pocket. “It’s hard.”

  “Don’t.” He reached over and grabbed my hand, stopping me from putting the fragment away.

  “Okay.” I passed him the mirror. “Who do you want to see?”

  “My father.”

  “Show me Major Carruthers.” I swept my fingers across the mirror’s surface, and it clouded. Winston’s memories of his father began to race across it. Leaning close to Winston, I looked into the mirror as it cleared, and an older, heavier version of my boyfriend appeared, his face tired as he rubbed his eyes.

  “Dad.” Winston’s voice cracked, and he reached out a shaking finger to touch his father’s face.

  The man in the mirror glanced up briefly, and I could have sworn that he was looking right at his son.

  “I’m sorry,” Winston said quietly. “I’m so sorry for every time…”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him tight.

  “I’m sorry for every time I got angry at you for leaving us. I’m sorry that I didn’t understand. I just wanted”—he let out a long breath—“I just wanted a dad like everyone else’s. But I understand now. I promise.” He stopped and stared at his father’s face for a moment. “I wish you could be as proud of me as I am of you.”

  “He is,” I said quietly in his ear.

  “He doesn’t even know I exist.” Winston handed the mirror back and closed his eyes for a second.

  “In his heart he does, even if he doesn’t know it.”

  “Give it to me,” another voice said. Uh-oh. I turned to see John of Leavenwald standing next to us.

  I swallowed, surprised that he’d somehow managed to sneak up on us without me hearing or without the guard raising an alarm. I looked around and noticed that the younger man was gone and remembered the bow he’d worn on his back—one of John’s men. No wonder he hadn’t warned us the other man had shown up.

  “Why?” I asked, keeping my fingers tight around the shard.

  “Please.” He held his hand out, palm up, and I handed the glass to him, trembling.

  He sat beside me and held it up, staring into it. “Show me the Golden Rose.”

  I touched the glass and bits of my mother’s life flitted across the mirror’s face before it cleared. Inside the reflection I could see my mother, still twitching in her sleep. Lost. I closed my eyes and felt all the cells turn inward as I fought against the urge to cry.

  “Your life is a promise to the universe,” he whispered to her as he ran his fingers across her face in the mirror, ignoring me and Winston. “That’s what you told me once. Life is a promise to the universe that you believe good will triumph over evil. I believe that because of you, because of her. Because of our Allie.”

  “John?” I looked over at the man whose attention was focused on my mother’s image.

  “I’ll keep her safe for you.” He ran his hand over the glass again, ignoring me, and then closed his eyes.

  “Take it.” He pushed the shard into my hand and stood, marching away from me, his back stiff. But then he stopped, turned back, and stomped toward us.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, trembling at the anger I saw in his face.

  “I will be.” He closed my fingers over the glass. “But first I have a promise to keep.”

  “I know. So do I.”

  “When the time comes, Your Majesty”—John kept his eyes locked on mine—“there can be no room for mercy.”

  “I know.”

  “Good.” He stalked away from me before turning around again, his face determined. “
And you should eat.”

  “I’m not really all that hungry.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you’re hungry or not. You need to eat while you still have the chance.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Your Majesty.” There was a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. “Your Majesty.”

  I rolled over and blinked at Eamon. “What?”

  “Your Majesty.” He shook my shoulder again and then pressed his fingers to his lips. “We need to go.”

  “Go?” I blinked at him again. “Go where?”

  “The army is on the move, Your Majesty.” Eamon picked up my boots and motioned for me to get up. “My father sent me to get you.”

  “Right.” I nodded and pushed the blankets back, thankful I had decided to sleep in my trousers and my tunic rather than just using the shirt like a nightgown. Not that I thought Eamon would be weird about it, but I’d rather be fully clothed.

  “Mercedes.” I took my boots from Eamon and slid the right one on, my other hand resting on his shoulder. “Kitsuna.”

  “Shhh.” Eamon put a finger up to his lips before I switched hands and pulled on my other boot. “My father said to leave them here.”

  “What?” I looked around on the floor, searching for my sword. I spotted it underneath the edge of the blanket pile, and grabbed it quickly, buckling it low along my hips.

  “He said not to wake them,” Eamon said. “We aren’t moving everyone yet; we’re scouting right now. He thought you’d want to join us.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t wake them?” I asked as he ushered me out of the room.

  He shook his head. “Dad and Tevian just wanted it to be you. According to the dragon scouts they saw the Fate Maker inside the cliffs. Maybe they want to capture him in secret?”

  “Maybe.” An odd feeling prickled along the back of my spine, making the hairs on my neck stand up. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked as Eamon led me out of the house.

  The black dragon guards who had been watching the door were gone and in their place were four of Eamon’s woodsmen. “Where did the—”