Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1)

by Missy Sheldrake

  “Oh! Sorry!” She giggles again and the light fades enough for me to see the beautiful wings at her shoulders, twice the size they used to be and gleaming with a dazzling iridescent sparkle that splashes over us both.

  “Oh, they’re stunning!” I say.

  “I know!” She jumps up and suddenly she’s back to fairy size again. A trail of glowing colors streaks out behind her as she dives and loops around the square.

  “Yes, yes, it’s very impressive, Flitt.” Ember says dryly from behind me, “Can we get on with this as quickly as possible? As all of you know, I have more important places to be.” I turn to find the others, Twig and Shush, hovering beside her.

  “Oh, is this where you live?” Shush whispers quickly. He flies forward and makes a circle around, stopping here and there to look at the weapons lining the walls. He comes back looking puzzled. “It’s an awfully strange place. No beds. Nothing pretty to see. Lots of dead wood, though.” He flies up to the wall and raps on it with his tiny hand.

  “They do like dead things...” Flitt nods, “but once you get used to that, it isn’t so bad here.”

  “Do you think we could get some of those sweet white morsels?” Shush rushes to Flitt. “The ones you told me about from the...what is it called? Kudgen?”

  “Kitchen. Sure. Come on, I’ll show you!” She grabs his hand but skids to a stop in midair as Ember circles to confront them.

  “Nobody is going to the kudgen, or whatever it is,” Ember bursts. “We have work to do.”

  “Right,” Rian says as he comes to my side. “The sooner the better.”

  “You’ve made a decision, then?” Twig asks gravely.

  “Yes. There’s no way around it,” Rian says. “She’s too dangerous.”

  “We’ve got to be careful,” Twig lowers his voice. “The prince is on a rampage. He tore up my tether. Luckily it still worked to get us here. But he’s after you two now.”

  “After us?” I think of the royal summons, still resting unanswered on the hall table.

  “Oh, yes!” Flitt darts to us, coming to a stop between Rian and I. “I almost forgot to tell you. He’s sending men here. He said you’re under attested.”

  “Arrested.” Twig corrects her.

  “Arrested, that’s right.” she nods.

  Rian and I exchange looks of alarm and he runs back to the hall, where he starts shoving Viala’s books and pages back into his bag. He tucks the slab in last, and the rest of us follow him down the corridor to his house.

  “Ohh, is this the kudgen, er, kitchen?” Shush peers around at the cabinets while Rian kneels and rolls up the rug beneath the table to reveal a trapdoor. He shoves the bag inside and closes it up again. Once he’s sure it’s safely stored away, he whispers a spell and the air shimmers around us.

  “Oh!” Flitt pauses with her arm halfway into the sugar jar. “You learned the hider. Good job!”

  “The hider?” I ask Rian.

  “Removes the Revealer,” he says. “So we stay hidden in the Half-Realm.”

  “But when—?”

  “Twig showed me, while you and Flitt were in the training square.” He takes my hand. “Let’s go.” We jog together back through the corridor to the main door, where Mouli wrings her hands as she greets two palace guards through the half-door.

  “I see,” she says hesitantly. “Come in. They’re just in here, in the hall.” She turns to lead them down the hall, and Rian and I have to press ourselves against the wall as they pass by. “I’m not one to argue with the Prince, of course, but I’m sure it must be some mistake, or an oversight. They couldn’t really be arrested, imagine!” she laughs nervously.

  We don’t wait to hear their reply. With my hand in Rian’s and the fairies fluttering behind us, we slip out the door and run full-out to the Academy dorms.

  “I don’t understand. An order for arrest would have to be approved by the king,” I whisper to Rian. “Eron doesn’t have the authority.” I try to keep calm, but the very thought that we’re now running from the law has my heart racing with a mix of terror and shame.

  “The king is ill,” Twig whispers, hanging onto my collar. “He took to his bed around midday.”

  “Perfect,” Rian utters as we skid to a stop along the cliff wall.

  “Do you think it was her doing?” I ask him as I lean against the wall. I look up at the balconies overlooking the sea until I locate Viala’s golden drapes blowing softly in the breeze.

  “I’m sure it was. The timing is too much of a coincidence for it not to be.” He shakes his head and turns to Ember and Shush. “It’s time. What do you need from us?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Windswept

  As the first plump drops of rain begin to fall, we find a quiet alcove to huddle in just across from the dormitory. There, Ember explains the process of stripping to us. It is a long process, she says, and painful. Viala will need to be restrained or she will fight. Her magic will be drawn out a sliver at a time, and magic doesn’t just go away, so each sliver will be placed into a grain of sand in a stone flask Ember carved from her own golem. Then, she and Shush will return the tapped magic to the Wellspring. I watch Rian, whose jaw is clenched as he stares across at the dormitories, listening to Ember’s instructions. My part will be to hold her down and guard against attack. The whole thing makes me uneasy. As much distress as she has caused us, as dangerous as she is, I don’t relish the idea of having to restrain her while others cause her pain.

  My thoughts are interrupted by the approaching rhythm of boots marching in unison. All of us turn at once to see a dozen of the city guard rounding the corner. It’s an odd sight. The city guard is usually a quiet presence, with one or two members milling here and there, keeping an eye out for trouble. These men, though, are stern and serious as they march in a grouping of three columns of four. Battle ready. As they approach the Academy, half of them split off and station themselves in front of the main door. The rest approach the dormitory beside it and round the corner to the side door.

  “Those men are all armed up and ready to fight, aren’t they?” Flitt bobs beside me.

  “See?” Shush whispers quickly, “That’s what I picture when you say human. Cold. Big. Shiny metal. Sharp things. A bit frightening.”

  “What are they doing?” Rian mutters, “The guards never bother with the Academy.” As if answering his thoughts, the main door to the complex opens and an elderly Mage pops his head out. His shaggy white eyebrows rise into the cloudy nest of hair atop his head. When he speaks, his voice echoes across the square.

  “Good evening, good evening, good sirs,” he says, reaching up to scratch his nose. “May I help you?”

  “Master Rendin,” one of the guards nods. “We received orders to stand guard tonight, for your protection.” The others with him stomp the ground in unison and stand at attention. “There’s word of a threat against the Academy, and we’re to keep watch and apprehend any attackers.”

  “Ho, ho!” Rendin’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he looks from one guard to another, as if waiting for the punchline of a joke. When they remain still and serious, his smile fades. “I see, well.” He watches them for a moment and then shakes his head. “I don’t see any harm in it, I suppose. Carry on then.” He ducks back inside and closes the door, and Rian lets out a long breath.

  “He’s letting them stay?” I peer out at the six men, who fan out under the awnings as the rain pelts harder.

  “He obviously finds it amusing. The Academy is so well protected with magic that it’s really pointless to station guards outside. Any non-student wanting to enter could never get through. Rather than argue with them, he’s just going to allow it.” His eyes narrow, “but they’re not there to protect the Academy. You heard what they said. They’re keeping watch, for us. This is her doing.”

  “Always so clever, and seemingly one step ahead.” Viala’s velvety voice sends a shiver through me. “But did you plan for this?” We turn quickly to see her lithe form sauntering to us thr
ough the rain, but something is off. She isn’t solid like us, she’s more of an apparition. The raindrops fall right through her. Still, I find myself reaching for my sword as she approaches Rian and slides her fingertip along his cheek. He ducks away from her.

  “Viala. How?”

  “How?” She tilts her head to the side and her lips form a seductive pout, “Can’t you think of how? After all,” she gestures to her nearly transparent form, “this is your doing.” She circles around him, watching him beneath heavy eyelids as he goes rigid with discomfort. “It was difficult at first, finding a weakness in that wretched sleep spell of yours.” She tilts her head to the other side as she grazes his shoulders with her fingertips. “But then I started thinking about how you eluded me in my room, and I thought of the fairy,” she turns to Flitt and flashes her a cruel smile, “and I realized there are other states of being. Once I figured that out, the possibilities were endless.” She gestures across the street at the guards, “As you can see.”

  “If that’s the case,” Rian says, “then you know that the guards are pointless. We could just walk in. They’d never see us.”

  “Not completely pointless,” she purrs. “They gave you pause. They bought me time. They showed you my reach, my power now.” Her eyes glint past him to me and the fairies. “You’ve brought friends.” Her lips curl into a wicked grin as she saunters toward me. To my surprise, Flitt dives bravely between us as she approaches.

  “You don’t scare me!” She cries, her fists firmly on her hips.

  “Oh, I ought to, pretty little wings,” Viala coos. She reaches up to swat Flitt away, but her hand goes right through her.

  “See!” Flitt jeers, “You can’t do anything, can you? Nothing but talking. You’re not really here.”

  “Flitt...” I warn, stepping closer.

  “She isn’t! She can talk but she can’t do spells, and she can’t even touch us. Look!” Flitt dives straight through Viala’s chest and out the other side. “She’s in the dreaming. You can’t do anything from the dreaming. Only watch, and listen, and talk.” Viala’s eyes narrow and she spins back around to face Rian.

  “And yet I’ve found a way,” her voice is silky-smooth again, “to control. A suggestion is a powerful thing, isn’t it, Azi?” She grins at me over her shoulder and I shrink away as I’m reminded again of my moments on the cliff wall. “There is always a way, Rian.” She stands before him again and gazes up into his face.

  “Set me free and I’ll show you. It can all be ours. The kingdom, the Wellspring, it’s all within our grasp. We’ll rid that Keep of the Sorcerers together and claim it for ourselves. All of it. We can do as we please with no one to stop us. No more rules, no limitations. I’ll even let you keep her, for your pleasure.” She nods to me as though I’m some sort of object to be used as a bargaining chip. Anger floods me, and I have half a mind to march through the dormitory to her room and drive my sword through her where she lies in her bed. “Just wake me,” she purrs to Rian, her lips against his ear just as they had been with the prince.

  There’s a long stretch while Rian and Viala regard each other, during which the fairies huddle together, whispering fiercely to one another. They seem to think he’s considering her proposal, but I know Rian better. That’s why when he gives her a slight nod and starts to cross with her through the rain to the dormitory, I’m completely shocked.

  “Is he going to do it?” Flitt whispers to me.

  “Are you really that surprised?” Ember drawls, “He’s a Mage, after all. None of them can be trusted.” She cocks her head toward Shush but pointedly avoids actually looking at him. “Time for the backup plan.”

  “But he saved me,” Flitt says as I stand frozen to the spot. “I was almost going to let him be my friend...” My legs are too stiff, my feet too heavy to move as I watch Rian disappear into the sheets of rain. Flitt’s voice is a distant echo as she goes on, “He wouldn’t make friends with her. Azi, go after him!” She grabs my braid and tugs it, snapping me out of my daze. I dart across the street and the others follow. We reach the side door just in time to see Rian levitating over the oblivious guards. I imagine that he’ll shrink himself down and climb in through the drain again, but instead he flies around to the back, where the balconies overlook the cliff side.

  “Rian!” I cry as I run to the wall and watch him settle on Viala’s balcony. “He can’t be,” I whisper, panicked, “He can’t be waking her. I have to get up there!” The words have barely left my lips when I feel eight tiny hands grasp the fabric at my shoulders and the fairies hoist me up over the wall. I clap my hands over my eyes until I feel my feet settle firmly on the balcony, and then I take off inside. “Rian!” I skid to a stop at the bedside and I’m greeted with an apologetic shrug and a grin from him.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I had to make her believe I was agreeing to it. It was the easiest way to get in here, and get her back in there.” He points to the bed, where Viala lies bound in a tight cocoon of red velvet bedcovers.

  “Told you!” Flitt does a little twirl and sticks her tongue out at Ember, who rolls her glowing eyes.

  “Of course it has to be raining.” Ember grumbles and points at the floor just beside the balcony archway. “Put her there. We’ll have to do it inside.” Her hair glows red and steam rises from her wet black skin as she heats up to dry herself. Rian levitates Viala’s sleeping form to the floor, and while the fairies prepare her for the stripping, he crosses to me and folds his arms around me.

  “You didn’t believe it, did you? That I’d join with her?” He murmurs into my hair. I’m too mortified to reply. How could I think he’d be so easily swayed? After all we’ve been through together, why didn’t I have more faith in him? He seems to sense my shame and holds me closer.

  “Sorcery,” he whispers. “It’s not always flashy and impressive. Sometimes it’s subtle, so much so that you don’t even notice it. So much so that it doesn’t require an incantation or a gesture. But still powerful enough to break anything, even trust. Even love.” He kisses my cheek tenderly. “It’s almost over now. Ready your sword, just in case.”

  Shush and Ember take charge of the preparations, instructing Rian to remove her blanket bonds and stand ready at her shoulder in case she attempts an attack. I kneel at her feet as instructed, laying my sword by my right hand where I can easily take it up if needed.

  “When I tell you to, you hold her down,” Ember orders. She takes the flask of sand from her belt pouch and sprinkles it across Viala’s forehead. Flitt’s light brightens at my shoulder, dancing over the swirling black design on Viala’s robes. A strong wind blows in from the balcony but it is quickly tamed by Shush, who waves a hand as if to send it away before it can disturb the sand. “Now, Mage,” Ember says as she comes to rest at Viala’s ear. “Wake her slowly.”

  “What?” Rian asks, shocked. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t it be easier—“

  “Perhaps I should just go and leave you to do it yourself, Mage,” Ember spits, “if you feel the need to question my every move!”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

  “What’s that human phrase? Sorry doesn’t mend the broken pitcher. Do as I tell you. She needs to be awake.”

  “But shouldn’t we at least—“

  “Oh, Rian,” Flitt whispers beside me as Ember glows red.

  “Fine. Here!” Ember throws the vial at Rian, hitting him square in the forehead, and then she whips around and points at Twig, who flies back a little to shy away from her rage. “Take me home! I won’t be second-guessed!”

  “Ember,” Shush whispers.

  “I-I-I can’t. Not ‘til Sunrise. R-remember?” Twig backs further away, wary of the sparks that crackle from her in her anger.

  “I think Rian was just saying maybe we should take precautions first—“ I interject, and it has the effect I had hoped for. Ember’s attention is on me now, leaving Twig to slump with relief as she dives at me.

  “Oh, now the non-magic human wants to boss
me again? You don’t know anything about anything, little one.”

  “I know that bickering with each other isn’t going to help us get the job done.” I square my shoulders and raise my chin. “And it’s not going to make the cyclones stop, either.” Ember smolders away, staring at me through the slits of her eyes. “I know you want to get back to the battle,” I say quietly. “But you were ordered to do this first. The sooner this is done, the sooner you can carry on fighting.” The silence in the room weighs heavily on us all as Ember seethes before me. Finally, she whips around to Twig.

  “You, Twig. You hold her.” She turns to Rian and jabs a finger at him. “Be ready to stop her casting. And give me my vial.” She whips back to face me as she settles at Viala’s ear. “Ready your steel.” My fingers find the worn leather of my sword’s hilt as Twig ventures close to Viala.

  At first, I wonder how he’ll manage to hold her as commanded, but then he raises his hands and the polished floor boards beneath her begin to pop and crack as the lines of the wood grain beneath her twist and grow like the roots of a tree. I snatch my sword and jump to my feet as they curl up over her legs and arms and neck elegantly, wrapping themselves like the coils of a grape vine around her. Twig doesn’t stop there, though. The vines grow and tangle and twine across the walls and ceiling and grow fragrant white blossoms which drip down over us and reflect all of Flitt’s glowing colors in a stunning display.

  “Heh. Got a little carried away,” he shrugs sheepishly. “Carry on.” Ember huffs impatiently as everyone else gazes around in awe of Twig’s display. She claps her hands loudly and snaps at Rian.

  “Good enough, Mage? Wake her up.” She peers across Viala’s face to Shush, who stands ready at her other ear, his hands pressed to the hollow of her cheek. Ember takes the same position on her own side and nods up to Rian. He hesitates and glances at me before he whispers the incantation to lift the sleeping spell.

  Before anyone can react, Viala’s voice screeches over us. Rian’s shield spell is too slow. The force of her attack strikes me directly in the chest. I feel my feet leave the floor as I’m thrown back across the room. Pain explodes in the back of my skull and stars dance across my vision as I crash into the wall. Distantly I’m aware of flashes of light and someone screaming. I grip my sword tightly and try to shake away the darkness that creeps over me. It’s no use. Despite my fighting it with every ounce of my strength, the pain in my heart burns and throbs and encloses me in darkness, and everything fades to black. The last thing I’m aware of is my legs giving way beneath me and the sound of my sword clattering to the floor.