I land hard on the dewy grass of the forest. Above me the multi-colored tree puffs sway wistfully in the breeze as Flit’s stern scolding brings me back to my senses.
“Reckless Mage! You need to listen! It’s forbidden to go there, it’s too much for you! And poor Azi, you scared her nearly to death and you didn’t even care!” I push myself up and blink at Rian beside me, who seems to be going through the same awakening.
Immediately, he summons a journal and writing stick and begins to write feverishly, recording everything he’s seen, oblivious to Flit’s scolding. Slowly, I push my hand between his and the book.
“Rian, you can’t,” I whisper. “No one can know.” He pauses and looks down at the notes and his face goes pale.
“You’re right,” he says, crestfallen, “What was I thinking?” He grasps my hand and pulls me into his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into my hair, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was drunk with it, all of it. I never should have...” His voice trails off weakly and he shakes his head. “We can’t stay here,” he says as he pushes himself to his feet. “I can feel myself slipping all the time, Azi. I can do anything here. Anything at all. No incantations, no restrictions. It’s such a rush, it makes me feel amazing, like... like I could rule it all.” He pauses. “We have to leave.”
“Wait a moment,” Flit says, surprised, “You mean to tell me that you want to leave even after you’ve seen the Wellspring because there’s too much magic?”
“Right,” Rian pulls me to my feet and kisses the crown of my head, “I know it sounds mad, but I know I’m not supposed to be here. When I let myself think about the power, really think about it, I start to spiral out of control. Think about it, Azi. Once you realize that you can have everything you want, forever, then what?”
“Isn’t that everyone’s dream?” I ask, still somewhat dazed, “To have what they want? To be happy?”
“If you could stay here,” he asks, “stay forever, and always have everything your heart desires, what would you do then?” I think of the way the Wellspring compelled me, how it made me feel.
“I don’t know. I’m afraid it would change me. And even if it didn’t, I’d at least want to share it. With you, with my family, with the guild.” I say, “I wouldn’t want to be alone.”
“And then,” he says, “They’d have their hearts’ desires, too, and they’d want to share. And then the people they bring would want the same. Eventually, one of them would let it get to them. One of them would spiral. At the very least, it wouldn’t be able to sustain us all. Everything has a balance. Our being here upsets it too much.” He pulls me close and gazes into my eyes, and the Wellspring’s draw becomes a distant memory. I know in my heart that all I really need is him.
“He’s right!” Flit claps, startling us both. “You’re both right! Oh, I’m so proud of you both, I really didn’t think you’d get it! And now, now, you’re finally ready to meet them.”
“Oh?” I say, reluctantly tearing my eyes from Rian’s, “Who are we meeting?”
“The Ring,” Flit says, her eyes wide, “but first, we have to do something about this.” she points to me, and then to Rian, and taps her lips thoughtfully.
“The Ring?” Rian asks as Flit circles around us, turning her head this way and that as though measuring us up.
“Really, you need to practice the game if you’re going to meet them. I never win when I play against them. You two have no hope at all. You can’t even get the order right. You ask a question, I answer. I ask a question, and then you answer. Then you, then me. Then you, then me.”
“I swear...” Rian murmurs, rubbing his forehead as I rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“You go first, Flit,” I offer, but she shakes her head.
“Nope, I don’t want to right now. Come with me.” She grabs a handful of each of our shirts, and we pop into her grotto again.
“A little warning next time?” Rian says, ankle-deep in the grotto’s pool.
“I said come with me. That was your warning.” she turns away from him to give me a secret, mischievous grin and I shake my head, trying hard not to laugh. As Rian trudges up out of the water, I wonder whether Flit will ever tire of tormenting him. I suppose after what he just put us through, he deserves it a little bit.
“Now, before we go,” she tips her head at us Rian sweeps his hand across his robes to dry them, “we need to do something about you both. First, smaller.” She nods at us and we begin to shrink.
“No way,” Rian says midway to her size. “Taller.” he stretches back up to his own height again. “You, too, Azi,” and the words have barely left his mouth before I’m back to my own height, too. “Tell us why, first.” Rian crosses his arms as I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to clear the odd lightheaded feeling that came along with the transformation.
“I’m taking you to meet the Ring. They’re a little bossy, but it’s okay, because they’re supposed to be. But you’re too big to get in, and they’d send you away if you tried to because you might step on someone. So you have to be small like, me. It’s all right though, I’d probably get into trouble bringing someone like you in, anyway, especially if they found out what you just tried to do. On second thought, you stay here. I’ll just take Azi.” She points at me and down I go again, shrinking toward the moss. I look up at Rian and feel a little dizzy at his enormity.
“I’m not going without Rian,” I say.
“I’m really sorry, Flit,” Rian says sincerely, “Honestly, I am.”
“Oh, fine, he can come,” says Flit. “Shrink yourself, then, Mage.” If it was odd to see Rian so much larger, it’s even stranger being eye to eye with Flit. The light that scatters from her wings is much more blinding at this scale, making me squint. Her many-colored ponytails are impossibly brilliant, and from this close up I can see that each strand of her hair shimmers with a light of its own. She stops in front of me and I blink rapidly.
“Could you be a little less...bright?” Rian says, shielding his eyes.
“What?” she scowls. “Oh, right. Sorry, I was thinking.” Her glow dims a little as she chews her lip. “Azi, you can’t go in that, it’s not very fine.” She points at the plain blue tunic and brown trousers which I chose for comfort and utility.
“Oh,” I say, thinking about the similar outfit in my bag. “Does it really make a difference what I wear?”
“Well, would you go to the palace dressed in that?” She wrinkles her nose.
“If she had something urgent to tend to she would,” Rian says defensively, “And they wouldn’t really care, either.”
“Rian...” I whisper.
“It’s okay, I’ve learned to mostly tune him out,” Flit says matter-of-factly as she looks me up and down again. “Just think of who you are and how you want to look, and then make an outfit.” She looks up at the sky, “And hurry. It’s almost noon. They’ll be starting soon.” I think of Flit’s bright ribbon skirt that reminds me of a bright prism, and Twig and his brown and green leafy outfit that looks like he walked out of the bark of a tree. It’s harder than it seems, trying to imagine of how I might dress to show who I am. I close my eyes and think about my mother and father, and the guild hall, and the castle, and the city and the ocean. It takes quite a while for it to come together in my mind, but after a short time I feel my clothing start to change. When I finally open my eyes, Rian is grinning at me.
“Perfect,” he says.
“I’m impressed!” Flit nods her agreement as I take stock of myself. My arms and legs are swathed in a clinging, shimmery silver fabric that resembles chain mail, but is soft to the touch. Over it is draped a surcoat of soft yellow gauze which is short in the front and trails to my ankles in the back. It’s cinched at the waist with a light blue sash, and of course at my back, my sword is strapped securely in its sheath. Flit’s frayed ribbon bracelet, which I’ve grown fond of, still hangs at my wrist despite its missing diamond.
“Can I bring my sword?
” I ask.
“Well sure, as long as you’re not thick enough to try and use it. Everyone at the Ring is important, and very powerful. If you tried to attack them, you probably couldn’t even draw it. But I think it’s good to have it. It’ll remind them of who you are.” She turns to Rian, “Now for you, Mage.” Rian’s nostrils flare out slightly as Flit paces around him, inspecting him.
“I don’t see why I can’t just go like this,” he says. “I’m a Mage. You can see that plainly by what I’m wearing. If they’re anything like you, they’ll hate me right away, anyway.”
“Oh, Rian,” I say, “Flit doesn’t hate you...” I look at Flit, whose ever-changing eyes dance from orange to bright red. “Do you?”
“Hate is a strong word,” she says. “They’ll need to see your coils, Mage.”
“Why? Are you sure?” Rian tugs uncomfortably at his collar.
“Well, that’s kind of the whole point of the coils, you know. So our kind can see quickly how responsible someone is with the magic they’ve been entrusted. So, yes. You’ll have to wear an open shirt. Or no shirt. Probably no shirt is best.” She steals a secret glance at me and winks. “It shouldn’t be a problem. Your kind is always flashing around their coils, showing off anyway.”
“Rian isn’t like that,” I say. Flit gives me a look of disbelief. “Sure, he gets carried away sometimes, but it’s not to show off... he’s just...interested. He tries to be respectful, he just likes to learn.”
“It’s fine, Azi,” Rian says, clenching his jaw, “We’re losing our focus on why we’re here to begin with. What I’m wearing isn’t really important.” He glares at Flit, “Or not wearing.” He’s right, I think. As always, Flit is a master of distraction.
It takes Rian much less time to make his transformation. He waves his hand and his clothing shimmers into a long, sleeveless vest that’s creamy yellow at his shoulders and deepens slowly to midnight blue as it drapes to his ankles. It buttons at his waist over an off-white shirt that is just sheer enough to show the Mark that swirls from his heart up to his collarbone and down to his buttons. His trousers are deep blue dotted with pinpoints of light that twinkle like stars.
“Amazing,” I breathe.
“Yes, that’s fine,” Flit says. “Now, when we get there, you should probably let me do the talking. They’ll want to play, and you’re both still pretty terrible at it. Oh, and if they’re dancing, then join. Sometimes that goes on for a while and it’s important, so best not to interrupt. Remember it’s all in good fun, so don’t be uptight. And try not to be rude.” She looks pointedly at Rian.
“I swear,” he mutters again as I link my arm through his and squeeze it.
“I think that’s everything,” she says, rising up from the moss with a flutter of her wings. “When in doubt, just do what everyone else is doing. Ready? Follow me!” She speeds across the grotto’s small pool, which is like a vast lake to us at our tiny size, and splashes right into the waterfall on the opposite side. I start to follow, picking my way around the edge of the pool.
“You just go along with it, don’t you?” he says quietly, taking my hand to hold me back. “You’re very trusting, Azi. More than I am. Sometimes, I wish I could be that way.”
“What choice do we have?” I ask, “You said it yourself. We don’t belong here. Mum said the same thing. There’s too much going on out there for us to stay here, and I can’t think of how to leave without crossing the border on foot. If we tried that, we might end up just like Da...” My voice trails off and he takes my chin in his hands.
“I’m not saying it’s a fault,” he says, “It’s one of the things I love about you. Just don’t let your guard down, okay?” he leans in and kisses me, and we stay locked together until we’re interrupted by a splash and an angry squeal from Flit.
“Really? I leave you for less than a cricket’s chirp and you can’t keep your hands off of each other? I thought this was important, Mage! Stop slobbering all over Azi and get through the waterfall!” She darts to us and takes each of our hands, and then we’re flying fast over the water and splashing through the trickling falls on the other side.
We come through dry, and my first impression of the Ring is that I’ve been here before. Blurs of colorful dancers streak past us as we stand outside the edge of the small meadow clearing, which is dotted with bright blossoms among the thick, green grass. The Ring itself is made up of pristine white mushrooms which create a perfect circle. Surrounding the circle of mushrooms, between them and the thick line of forest trees is a narrow strip of moss where a great crowd of fairies has gathered.
Some of them look like us, tiny people without wings, while others have stunning iridescent wings like Flit. Some are covered in fur so they might be mistaken for a mouse, and others resemble insects until they turn to look at us with human faces. There are creatures covered in tiny mushrooms, and fairies with sprigs of grass sprouting from their backs. Some of them are twisted and dark and spindly like the roots of a tree, with deep black eyes that sparkle, while others are bright and ethereal, with impossibly beautiful faces. I cling to Rian as the group closest to us turns to point. Their whispers rush through the crowd until almost all of the creatures around the Ring are craning to watch us pass.
“Hello!” Flit cheerfully greets those nearby. “Excuse us,” she squeaks as she pulls us through the path they create. As we approach the blur of dancing, it slows. At first I think it’s because of us, but then as they come to a stop I see Twig sitting in the grassy center of the ring. A few of those who were dancing fly up to perch on the mushrooms, and others settle beneath the caps to watch. “Hi, Twig!” Flit calls out, and he looks in our direction and gives her cheerful wave. Something pokes from the soil in front of him, and at first I think it must be a worm or a mole the way it’s burrowing upward, pushing the earth from below.
“There’s Crocus,” Flit points at the delicate spring-green bud that emerges and continues to grow just to Twig’s chest height. The petals transform to a beautiful deep purple as they fall open, revealing an elegant child-like fairy. The crowd around us gasps in approval and bursts into applause, and I find myself doing the same as she opens her arms in greeting. She has a delicate build that is not unlike a flower’s stem, and wears a crown of dewdrops on her puff of yellow-green hair.
“Twig,” she says, and her sweet voice carries the same warmth as her smile. “Please present your name to the gallery,” she nods to the crowd with amusement in her bright green eyes, “which I see is quite occupied this noon.” Twig sticks his thumbs into his belt and rocks far back on his heels. His stick-like wings blur as they work to keep him from tipping backwards.
“Tufar Woodlish Icsanthius Gent,” he announces with a tone of importance, “currently reporting from the palace of Cerion City.”
“And what news have you, Twig?” she smiles gently, tilting her head to one side.
“The eldest princess’s ball was held last eve, with a great deal of magical decoration.”
“That would explain the flood of cyclones,” a large green fairy perched on one of the mushrooms offers in whispers. He has long, lean green legs and wings that fall sleekly over his back like tear-shaped leaves. At first I think he must be some sort of mantis or grasshopper, but when he turns and I can see his face, it’s quite human. His hair is swept back in long streaks and his high cheekbones come to sharp points, making him look as though he’s flying into a strong wind. His large eyes are covered with a protective mask resembling the eyes of an insect. He pushes it up to his forehead as Crocus nods to him.
“We recognize Soren Hasten Udi Swiftish Haven,” she says, “Shush, what word from the North field?”
“Thank you,” he whispers quickly, so that I have to lean forward to hear him, “an unrelenting stream of cyclones throughout the night, and the trespass of a half-elf Mage and a human warrior.” A murmur rushes through the fairies, and those closest eye us cautiously. “Investigation tells us it is Lisabella’s daughter and her f
riend.”
“Is that so?” Crocus’ brow lifts gracefully as she scans the crowd and her gaze rests on Flit. She nods and beckons to us. “We recognize Felicity Lumine Instacia Tenacity and her charges.” Flit leads us to the center of the Ring to stand beside Twig, and Crocus waits for the buzzing crowd to settle before she speaks. “Please present your name, Lisabella’s daughter.”
“Azaeli Hammerfel.” I dip into a curtsy.
“A. H.” Crocus announced my initials thoughtfully. “Is that all?” I nod. “Well, Ah,” she says as the crowd giggles, “we are pleased to meet you.” She turns to Rian, “And the Mage?” she asks, folding her hands elegantly on top of her skirt petals.
“Rian Eldinae,” his formal bow spurs another giggle from the crowd.
“Re.” she nods again, “such short, strange little names. Ah, and Re. We now recognize you.” I glance at Flit, who is pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh.
“No, no,” she giggles. “Azi and Rian.”
“Well, it doesn’t match up, does it? And why is it she has a sword, but her name is Hammerfel? Did she drop her hammer? It fell and now she needs a sword?” Crocus covers her mouth and her laugh is sweet and melodic as a chime. I can’t tell whether she’s serious or teasing me. She turns to Rian, “Eldinae, though. That’s an old name. An elven name.” She tilts her head at Rian.
“My father is a wood elf,” he says.
“A half-wood-elf-high-Mage,” she claps her hands, “how oddly delightful! Oh, but you have the coils.” She swirls her finger in the air in the direction of his chest and leans forward, then gestures him closer as the scandalized crowd whispers around us. I try to follow, but Flit shakes her head at me and pulls me back, and my hand slips from his. He doesn’t hesitate. Instead he crouches down before the little flower, allowing her to reach her slender fingers out to him. All around us, the crowd of fae lean in, trying hard to get a closer look.
“How did you come by these?” She asks and lowers her hand, reluctant to touch him. Rian clears his throat awkwardly and glances back at Flit.
Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1) Page 22