Fairy World M.D., Boxed Set Two (4-6.5)

by Tamara Grantham

  I rested my chin in my hands, my heart weighing heavy in my chest. It was hard not to picture Fan’twar locked in a dungeon, being tortured or beaten or starved. Even though we’d learned the stone’s meaning, it seemed we’d come no closer to freeing my stepfather, and if we failed to free him, I couldn’t imagine what evil the elves would unleash on Faythander. Fan’twar wouldn’t be the only slave. The elves would make sure of that.

  “Don’t lose hope just yet,” Maveryck said. “The witch’s egg is mentioned in other documents, one of which is in your possession, Olive. Do you still have the journal of the Madralorde brother?”

  I thought back to where I’d put it last. “Yes. It’s in my pack in the room where Jahr’ad’s men were keeping Kull and Heidel. But should we bother with it? Shouldn’t we find a way to cure Kull first?”

  “Kull will be fine,” Maveryck said, “at least, for now. Venom-drake poison takes days to work through the bloodstream. I will deal with Jahr’ad and have your magic restored well before then. But before I confront him, I’d like to give him a moment to cool down. Dealing with Jahr’ad now would be impossible.”

  “What makes you so sure you can make him see reason?” Heidel asked.

  “Because I understand his motivations, that’s why. I assure you, Kull’s health will be restored. While we’re waiting, we might as well get back to the room and try to find out what we can about the egg.”

  “I agree,” I said.

  We left the chamber and entered the catacombs. The hallway led us through the main chamber, where I tried to ignore the gore left over from Kull’s fight. We finally found the room where Kull and Heidel had been tied up, and I found my pack in the corner where I’d left it. Sitting on the floor, I rummaged through it until I found the journal. The others gathered around me as I carefully turned the pages. Outside, sounds of men’s voices echoed from the hallway, though no one seemed to pay us any attention. Slanting rays of sunlight shone through the room’s only window, which was nothing more than a narrow slit near the ceiling. Dust motes drifted on an unseen breeze. The window didn’t help with the stifling heat. Sweat beaded on my neck as I sat and scanned the book.

  Time seemed a rare commodity at the moment. We had to find a way to cure Kull’s injury, I had to find a dragon’s egg, and we had to do it before Jahr’ad’s men kicked us out of here. No pressure.

  “There,” Maveryck said as I stopped on a page with a drawing of a round circle with symbols inked around the edges. “As far as I’ve studied, I believe these symbols represent each of the Madralorde brothers. This one is the dagger of Xacvain; this is the staff of Zaladin. I believe this bell-shaped symbol represents the shield of Yerrish. And look here—this is a list of everything needed in order to accomplish the ritual to recall Theht. In addition to the weapons, the practitioner would need several other items to accomplish the ritual.”

  I scanned over the list of items. “The heart of a jagamoor preserved in fae water. A fairy’s wings given willingly. The first breath of fire from a black-magic dragon.” I looked up. “But this still doesn’t tell us where to find the egg.”

  “What do we know of the egg?” Kull asked as he paced the room.

  “It’s the only offspring of the witch, and it most likely contains black magic,” I said.

  “Yes,” Maveryck agreed. “It’s also valuable and was last known to be in possession of the elves, but where they are keeping it is a mystery.”

  “Jahr’ad said the elves put it in a place no mortal person could find. Where could that be?” Heidel asked.

  Maveryck shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. If they put it in a place no mortal could find, then how were they able to put it in such a place?”

  Kull rubbed his neck, and I saw the look of pain in his eyes. His wound was getting worse, and unless I got my magic back, we’d have no way to heal him. But one thing at time. First, we had to figure out where the egg was located.

  “Maveryck, surely there must be someone else you know who would have more knowledge on such things?” Heidel asked.

  “No. I’m afraid no one knows the dragon egg trade as well as Jahr’ad. There is a reason I risked our lives to come here.”

  “I still haven’t forgiven you for that,” Heidel said. “My brother is dying because of you.”

  Kull cleared his throat. “You would care if I die?”

  “Care? No. Would it bother me a little? Possibly.”

  “Then, are you still angry with me?”

  “Of course I am.”

  I scanned the journal as the siblings continued to argue. Something bothered me. I felt as if I’d seen the egg before but couldn’t be sure until I knew what the egg looked like. My gaze snagged on a page in the back of the journal where pictures of each item had been inked onto the parchment, but the egg was only drawn in black and white, so I couldn’t be sure if my theory was correct.

  “Maveryck,” I said. “Do you know what the egg looks like?”

  “It is rumored to be very beautiful. Black with golden bands.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “Are there any other eggs that fit that description?”

  “No. The vachonette egg is one of a kind. Most eggs take on the color of their magic, making them green or bluish-green, but the vachonette took on black magic, making it the only egg of that color.”

  “So you’re saying there are no other eggs at all that are black?”

  “It’s the only one. Why do you ask?”

  “Because,” I answered, “I think I may know someone who’s seen that egg. And he’s in Earth Kingdom.”

  Kull and Heidel stopped arguing to stare at me.

  “You know where the egg is?” Heidel asked.

  “No, but I think I know someone who does.”

  Chapter 19

  Kull, Maveryck, Heidel, and I sat in the small, one-window room in Jahr’ad’s lair. The air smelled of dust and sand. I tasted its grittiness on my tongue. There were many reasons I wished to be free of this place, but getting that taste out of my mouth was pretty high on my list.

  “Who do you know who has knowledge of the egg?” Heidel asked.

  “His name is Zack Zimmerman,” I answered. “He’s a weather reporter in Earth Kingdom.”

  “A weather reporter?” Maveryck asked. “How would he know where the vachonette egg is located?”

  “He collects rare eggs called Fabergé eggs. One in particular looked just like the egg we’re looking for. I have no idea how he would have come into contact with the vachonette egg, except that he must have traveled to Faythander and seen it.”

  “Are you certain of this?” Maveryck asked.

  “No, I’m not certain of anything. It could be a huge coincidence he collects eggs that look like the vachonette, but I don’t think so. I tested him, and he has been exposed to elven magic. At the time, I thought it was a fluke, but now I believe he must have come to Faythander. He must have seen the egg we’re looking for, but there’s only one way to know for sure. I’ll have to travel to Earth Kingdom and find out.”

  “We’ll have to get your magic back before you can create a portal,” Kull said.

  “Yes, but how?” I asked.

  “Leave that to me,” Maveryck said as he stood tall, his robes rustling. “Jahr’ad has hopefully had a moment to cool down. Plus, after his botched negotiating, Jahr’ad owes me a favor.”

  “You’re sure you can deal with him?” Kull asked.

  “I am.”

  “I disagree,” Heidel said. “Jahr’ad won’t negotiate anything unless it benefits him. It’s unlikely we’ll escape this place unscathed.”

  “I give you my word that we will leave this place without injury, but you must let me deal with him on my own terms. I shall return shortly.”

  He backed out of the room and left without another word. I watched him go, feeling a mixture of confusion and admiration at his brazen attitude. What made him so sure he could get my magic back and get us out of here?

  “H
e’s a fool,” Heidel said, “and he’s more overconfident than you, Brother. Never in a million years did I think I would say such a thing.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  Kull leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, looking barbaric with his naked torso and blood drying on his chest. I was reminded of the time I’d spent with him in Geth’s camp after he’d been attacked by a Regaymor. My heart fluttered at the memory. How was this man able to hold such power over me? Even with his injuries, he had a commanding presence, and after his fight with the venom-drake, the tales of his godlike strength would only become more exaggerated.

  “Olive,” Heidel said, “since we’re alone for a moment, I thought perhaps… that is… I was wondering if you might… would you do the spellcasting?” she asked.

  “I wish I could, but I can’t do it without my magic.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can’t you at least try?”

  “I suppose I could try. It might be possible to use only the mirror’s magic without using my own, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “That is sufficient for me,” Heidel said. I went to my pack and found my mirror. After pulling it out, I sat on the floor, and Heidel sat across from me. I placed the mirror case between us.

  It felt strange to do a spellcasting without my magic and here in Jahr’ad’s lair, but if Heidel truly wanted her memories back, we didn’t have the luxury of finding a more suitable place to perform the test.

  “Brother,” Heidel said, “will you kindly leave the room?”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Just do it,” she said.

  He remained in the room a moment longer, looking from the mirror to his sister, but he finally relented and stepped outside. Heidel turned to me. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her eyes darted. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her so nervous.

  “If this works, you will not speak of what we find in the mirror, will you?” she whispered.

  “I promise this will be between you and me,” I said.

  “Good. I have an ill feeling about what I might learn. But I must know the truth.”

  “I understand.”

  I opened the case and felt a surge of energy flow from the mirror. Its electric-blue glow warmed me. Power built within me, filling the empty spaces where my magic had once resided. I wasn’t sure it was enough to fuel the spell, but it was better than nothing.

  I scanned the five figurines arranged on the mirror’s velvet lining, but since we were doing the spell in reverse and I was attempting this with limited magic, I left the figurines alone. Instead, I placed the mirror case on my lap and turned it to face both of us.

  “Whenever you’re ready, put your hand on the screen.”

  She hesitated, but then did as I said. As soon as she touched the screen, the magic reacted. Blue streamers of magic swirled from the screen, casting a spell that encircled us. On the screen, a city appeared. With the Eiffel Tower standing at the town’s center, its identity was unmistakable.

  “Where is that?” Heidel asked.

  “Paris, France. In Earth Kingdom.”

  “I went to Paris?”

  “It appears so.”

  “But what happened?”

  “Wait, you’ll see,” I answered.

  Soon, the scene shifted, but instead of sitting in a room looking at a mirror, we stood on the streets of Paris. Heidel spun around, her eyes wide.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “This is just a memory. Nothing can hurt you here.”

  Sounds of car horns and conversations echoed through the streets. People jostled past, seeming to walk through us as if we were ghosts. We stood under a sign that read Banque de France.

  Heidel and Maveryck stood arguing at the bank’s doors until he finally went inside, leaving her alone on the street. She cursed and spun away from the bank, walking at a brisk pace down the sidewalk.

  The Heidel from the memory still wore a breastplate tarnished with dark blood. Bystanders gave her odd glances as she brushed past, but she seemed oblivious as she tromped through the crowd.

  “What were we arguing about?” Heidel asked me.

  “I don’t know. It was hard to hear your conversation over the traffic, but since he went inside the bank and you didn’t, it’s possible you were arguing about money. I can’t be sure.”

  “Why is there blood on my breastplate?” she asked. “Do you think it was from the wraith we were battling?”

  “It’s possible. You said before you left Faythander, you were fighting off the witch’s wraiths.”

  The scene grew darker as night approached. We hovered above a crowd of people gathered around the foot of the Eiffel Tower. Heidel stood among them. Behind her, a man with wispy white hair and wolfish yellow eyes stalked her. She spun around, but the person disappeared out of sight.

  “Was that the wraith?” she asked.

  “I think so. The portal crossing must have changed its looks. It must have been stalking you.”

  The scene shifted once again, and we hovered above an empty street near a sprawling, historic hotel. The Heidel from the memory had changed clothes, and I almost didn’t recognize her.

  Beside me, the real Heidel gasped. “What in Odin’s name was I wearing?”

  The shimmering dress hugged her chest and cascaded in a waterfall of silver fabric to the ground. Tiny crystals sewn into the silky fabric glittered in the pale lamplight. Her dark, slightly curly hair flowed around her shoulders and down her back, and I didn’t mention it, but she actually looked beautiful. She walked alone down the street, and with her red cheeks and fisted hands, it looked as if something, or most likely someone, had upset her.

  Her high-heeled shoes clicked over the cobbled street. A shadow darted in front of her and she stopped, then pressed her back against the wall of the building as she watched, waiting, with only the sounds of distant motors to break up the silence.

  After several minutes, with no other signs of life coming from the street ahead, Heidel moved out of the shadows, only to have a form materialize behind her. The wraith moved so fast its hands blurred as it grabbed Heidel around her waist and stabbed her midsection.

  The creature threw her to the ground as dark blood seeped from the wound, staining the dress.

  The scene shifted once again, and we found Heidel lying on a bed in a room lit only by the pale, silvery glow of the city through sheer curtains. We must have been inside a hotel in one of the most expensive rooms I’d ever seen. The gleam of gold came from the embellished dressers, headboard, picture frames, and mirrors. Maveryck was in the room with her, wearing a suit that accentuated his lean, athletic frame. His light, purple-tinted eyes looked ghostly in the dim light.

  “What’s he doing?” Heidel asked.

  A burst of light blinded us for a moment but then dimmed, leaving us to watch as Heidel grabbed Maveryck by his shirt collar and kissed him.

  Magic jolted through me as the image faded. Once again, we were in the room in Jahr’ad’s cavern.

  Heidel sat across from me, her hands shaking before she tucked them in her lap and away from the mirror’s magical screen, which would explain why the memory had stopped.

  “That… that wasn’t,” she stumbled over her words, “that didn’t really happen, did it? Your magic must have been compromised somehow. That couldn’t have been me. I know it wasn’t me. I would never…”

  I didn’t say anything. Those were memories she’d have to work through on her own.

  “He did something to me. He must have enchanted me somehow. There was that flash of light right before I… I… You know I never would have done that willingly. I hate him.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why did I do it? Is there some sort of spell he could have used—a love spell, perhaps?”

  “It’s possible, but not likely. Love spells aren’t what you think, and if he’d used one on you, we would know.”

&
nbsp; “How?”

  “Your personality would change. You would stop eating and sleeping. Most people avoid using love spells for those reasons.”

  “But he must have done something to me. There really is no other explanation. I swore to myself… after Geth… I swore I would never lose my heart again.”

  Her breathing grew fast and shallow. She reached for her scabbard and pulled out a knife. Its pearl-inlayed pommel glinted in the sun streaming through the narrow window. She placed the dagger on her lap and studied it with guarded eyes.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “An Earth Kingdom weapon. I had it after we came back, but I didn’t know where it came from.” She looked up at me. “He must have given this to me,” she said quietly.

  “Yes, that’s a possibility.”

  “Why do you think he did it?”

  “There’s no way to be sure, but usually gifts are a sign of affection.”

  She swallowed as if to keep back the tears. “Do you think he… had feelings for me?”

  “It seems possible. It’s also very likely that he still does.”

  “I can’t talk to him about this.”

  “You may have to.”

  She nodded, still staring at the dagger but not touching it. “Olive, I’m sorry, but I need some time alone.”

  “Of course. I understand.” I closed my mirror box and replaced it in my pack, then quietly made my way out of the room.

  I wasn’t sure what to do for Heidel, if there was anything I could do. Her past wasn’t something that would just go away. No matter how hard she tried to avoid it, her past would always be a part of her life. The best she could do was accept it and move on. I wouldn’t tell her, but maybe having feelings for Maveryck wasn’t such a bad thing. If he helped her move forward, then maybe accepting him would help her heal.

  Walking through the empty hallways, I wasn’t sure where to go next. I made my way down to the bottom floor where Zariah passed me. Her magic brushed against mine, making fear and adrenaline rush through me, but she ignored me and continued walking the other way. I hoped Maveryck would get Jahr’ad to cooperate so I could get my magic back soon. Until then, I decided I couldn’t stand being covered in filth a moment longer.