Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1)

by Missy Sheldrake

  “We can split the troops in the meantime,” Da says. “Half here, half to guard the Pass.”

  “All of ‘em should guard the Pass, and even that won’t be enough,” Bryse replies. “No reason to leave anyone here. That stone guard can handle any threat.”

  “Right,” Cort says. “The main concern is keeping the banished at bay.”

  “But with the Keep unguarded and the border of the Outlands open... the banished could easily rally, win against the small number of guard posted, and then claim the keep in the time it takes us to petition the king for more coverage.”

  “What are they talking about?” Flitt whispers in my ear and I yelp, startled. “Sorry, jumpy!” She giggles and crunches into a sugar cube as she settles onto my shoulder.

  “This keep used to guard the border to the Outlands, where Cerion sends its banished. But the Sorcerers moved it, and now there’s no protection to keep the criminals where they belong.” I tilt my head and smile at her. “Where have you been?”

  “Sleeping,” she takes another bite and my own stomach growls as she chews. “So if the keep stays here, then the bad people might come, too?” she asks, reaching into her pouch to pull out a dingy looking cube and offer it to me. I’m so hungry I accept it and pop it into my mouth.

  “Possibly,” I reply as the sweet sugar melts on my tongue. “We’re not really sure how many of them are left. The Outlands are a harsh place. But that means anyone who does survive it is smart, strong, and very dangerous. How are the others? Twig, Shush, Ember?”

  “Fine. Dancing at the Ring. Scree wants to see you and Stinky.” I give her a look and she ducks and grins. “All right, Rian. And your Mum, too. Will you come?”

  “Rian needs to sleep. He’s been through a lot. Can it wait a little while?”

  “Uh huh. They’ll be dancing ‘til midday, anyway.” She takes another bite of her cube and Mya’s voice drifts in over her crunching.

  “We’re talking in circles,” she sighs. “It might be best if we remain here and station the troops at the border while we send a report to His Majesty and wait for instructions.”

  “You’re staying here? We’ll be neighbors!” Flitt pats my neck excitedly. I sigh and look down at Rian. As much as I would love to remain so close to Kythshire, I was really looking forward to going home with my family and getting back to our lives. I miss Mouli’s cooking and Luca’s warm smile, and the smell of the salty air through my open window. I miss waking in the morning and chatting with Rian through the circle hatch, and sparring with Bryse and Cort in the training square. If we stay here in the keep, it could be for weeks.

  “I don’t see any way around it. The Outlands are too much of a threat.” I sigh. “The others are right, we can’t just leave the border unguarded. Unless...” I turn to her. “If the keep was moved with magic, it can be moved back again the same way, can’t it?” Flitt’s eyes go wide.

  “It would take a lot of magic,” she replies. “Since it was done by Mages, no, Sorcerers, we couldn’t do it ourselves without almost draining the,” she whispers almost inaudibly, “you know. That’s what the dancing is about. Lots of arguing at the circle today about how to get rid of the keep. But there might be another way. Can you think of one?” It takes me a moment before I remember the promise made to me by Scree.

  “Flitt, do wishes drain the Wellspring? True Wishes?” I watch her light sparkle brightly as our eyes meet, and she shakes her head with a grin.

  “No, Azi. They don’t.” Her gossamer wings flutter as she hops up to hug my face and give me a sticky, sloppy kiss right on the cheek.

  I wash up and breakfast on some stale nut bread and dried fruit while we wait for Rian to wake. The small window in our room is more of an arrow slit, and I stand on tiptoe as I chew and peer out of it. Our room faces the north side of the keep, where our guild’s battle took place. Little evidence of the fight remains. Da said that Brother Donal and Dacva worked hard to heal everyone during the fight. Only three of the King’s Guard were lost. They’ll be given a heroes’ burial at home.

  The rest of the king’s men are working at disposing of the bones of the sentries by way of an enormous pyre.

  “Burning death itself,” Flitt sneezes. “How revolting.”

  “What else can they do with them, though?” I argue as I take in the rest of the scene. Further to the east, another group of soldiers guards bundles of sleeping men wrapped in their own orange and red cloaks. I count four all together, one of them as massive as Bryse. “Retribution,” I whisper to Flitt. “That’s our rival guild, the ones who betrayed us. Uncle must have sent them to sleep.”

  “Will they burn them, too?” Flitt asks as she peers out curiously.

  “No, they’ll most likely have a trial.” I look for evidence of the necromancers, but the battleground is already swept clean. Rian wakes and comes to join us, hugging me from behind and resting his chin on my unoccupied shoulder to watch out the window.

  “Cleanup day,” he murmurs. “Those are the unsung heroes of battle. Imagine having that job.” He rubs his eyes and kisses me just below my ear. “I’ll be back.” As he leaves, Mum slips in, looking exasperated.

  “They’re never going to come to an agreement. Oh, good morning, Flitt,” she smiles and Flitt sparkles brightly in reply. “Good morning, my darling. Are you feeling better?” She asks me with a hug.

  “I am,” I lean into her. “Mum, they want to see us at the Ring. You, me, and Rian.”

  “Yes, I wanted to go there anyway, to say goodbye. Now that they have the North Guardian back, they won’t be needing me. But I do wish I knew a way to fix this mess with the keep.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” I say, turning back to the window. “I think I have it figured out. But we’ll need to have everyone cleared out of here before we go back to Kythshire.”

  “Would you just listen to me?” Bryse booms from next door, stirring up another round of shouting.

  “If that’s the case, then you’d better tell them,” Mum says. “Before it comes to blows.”

  It takes a moment for them to stop shouting long enough to notice me standing in the doorway of the makeshift meeting room. Rian joins us again as they settle down, and I clear my throat nervously.

  “Do you have something to say, Azi?” Mya’s usually peaceful voice sounds ragged and tired as she folds her hands on the table. Beside her, Elliot sits with his arms crossed and his head tipped against the back of the chair, sound asleep. It’s strange to see him in human form again, but now that I know his secret I can certainly pick out the obvious foxlike qualities in his hair and in the shape of his face. I wonder if he’s on a journey right now, as he sleeps among his arguing guild mates.

  “Can you have the area cleared out by noon?” I ask. “I have a way to move the keep back to the Pass.” I look from one of them to the other, expecting an argument.

  “How?” Bryse is the first to ask. A dozen replies formulate in my mind and I try to speak each of them in turn, but I can’t. Finally, I simply shake my head.

  “I just have a way,” I say. I want to tell them everything, but I honestly can’t. It bothers me. Secrets still feel like lies to me, but I do understand the importance of keeping the fairies safe. To my surprise, it’s Uncle who stands first.

  “If Azaeli has a way, then let her do it.” Around the table, one by one, the others stand in agreement. There’s an underlying air of reverence about them as they look at me that makes me a little uneasy.

  “I agree,” Mya sighs with relief as she rises. “I was about to start pulling my hair out.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Thank you, Azi. We’ll have it cleared out by noon.”

  ***

  As soon as we reach the Ring, we’re swept up in the dancing which is just as chaotic and wonderful as it has ever been. It seems as though so many more have come to join in once we arrive, it’s a wonder we can maneuver at all around the edge of the mushrooms. The music is lively and upbeat, and I catch a bit of Mya’s melo
dy from yesterday woven through it as I go around and around with Mum’s hand in my left one and Rian’s in my right.

  Flitt’s light plays around us as the breeze blows my hair loose from its braid, and I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard for so long. Gradually the music slows, and with it the dancing. In the soft, grassy center of the Ring, Crocus’s blossom falls open, this time to reveal shades of deep blue fringed with gold. A hush falls over the massive crowd of fairies as she smiles at the gathering.

  Above us on the mushrooms, Ember is seated to our left and Shush rests on his own cap to our right. Beneath him, I recognize several of the wind fairies we rescued from the keep. In fact, many of them have clustered around Rian to pat his back and shake his hand and offer their thanks in the form of tiny gifts. As Crocus begins to speak, he turns to me and raises his present-laden arms with a bemused grin.

  “We call forth Lisabella Hammerfel of Cerion.” Crocus gestures gracefully to Mum, and I turn my attention back to the center of the Ring as my mother goes to stand before her. “Lisabella,” Crocus smiles. “To you we bequeath first the title Scourge of the Shadow Twists, and second the title Protector of the North.”

  “Thank you,” Mum smiles. Crocus nods and continues.

  “Do you wish to remain with us in Kythshire, or return to your own in Cerion?”

  “As fond as I have grown of your people and your lands,” Mum gestures warmly to the assembly. “I long to return to my own home. If you are ever in need of me again, though, I shall honor my family’s vow.” Crocus nods again, and Mum steps back to join us.

  “Rian Eldinae of the Academy of Cerion, we call you now.” Rian squeezes my hand before he lets go to step into the Ring. “Our muses will sing of your strength, honor, and selflessness forever more. You held strong when the power proved too much, and you did not allow it to consume you or lead you astray. In the face of great evil, you turned away from temptation and helped those who were too weak to help themselves. You have shown us through your actions that some Mages can, in fact, be trusted. To you, we bestow the titles Windsaver, Oathkeeper, Arcane Guardian, and Steward of the Wellspring. You remain ever welcome within our borders, and we thank you.” She dips into a bow and Rian does the same, and then the ground rumbles loudly as Scree pushes through the soil.

  “Rian Eldinae: Windsaver, Oathkeeper, Arcane Guardian, Steward of the Wellspring,” he booms as cheers erupt from the crowd of fae surrounding us. “You may now collect your debt and be restored from the Half-Realm.” Rian shifts slightly and then turns to look at me as he rubs the back of his neck. I had forgotten about our request to be restored in exchange for stripping Viala, and I’m a little disappointed. Having the ability to move unseen and stay out of harm’s way was quite helpful to us in our quest. By the look on Rian’s face, I can tell he feels the same way. Now that we’ve learned how to work around it, it’d be a useful skill to keep. I hesitate and then step forward.

  “We recognize Azaeli Hammerfel of Cerion,” Crocus says with a hint of caution, as if expecting the reaction that follows. At once the gathered fairies erupt into deafening cheers, even louder than they had for Scree, and then the dancing starts again, livelier even than before, and we are swept away with it. It doesn’t stop again until the sun is low in the sky, spilling splashes of pink through the deep green canopy above. Rian and I tumble back to the center of the Ring again, breathless.

  “What have you to add, Ah?” Scree booms.

  “If you please... I think Rian and I would like to remain in the Half-Realm, for now. If that’s what you were thinking, Rian?” He nods.

  “It’s useful,” he smiles at Crocus, who blushes and fans herself with a bit of her skirt.

  “Very well,” Scree booms. “But know that you may collect on this debt at any time. We forever honor our bargains.” With that, Crocus turns to me.

  “Azaeli Hammerfel of Cerion,” she starts, and the crowd goes up in cheers again, but this time when she raises her hand there is a hush. “You have protected our kind through countless dangers, putting yourself in harm’s way. Your actions have been brave, selfless, level-headed, kind, nurturing, loyal, just, and pure of heart. You have restored our Esteemed Guardian of the Northern Border, Iren, that we would no longer be plagued by the Shadow Twists. You stood beside your friends in the battle against the Sorcerers of Zhaghen and fought valiantly. We bequeath unto you the titles: The Temperate, Pure of Heart, Reviver of Iren, The Great Protector, and most importantly, if you will agree to it, Cerion’s Ambassador to Kythshire.”

  As the colorful assembly erupts into a chaos of cheering and dancing again, I stand in the center of the blur, stunned. Rian nudges me and I stare up at him in disbelief. Over his shoulder, my mother wipes a tear from her eye just before she’s caught up in the dancing. Flitt breaks free from the celebration and dives at me to hug me. The dancing goes on and on as the sunlight wanes, and Crocus yawns and stretches and finally beckons me closer with a bemused smile. I step forward, and Rian and Flitt join me.

  “They are likely to dance to the moon this night,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “You may think on this honor, Ah, and accept it later if you so choose. Accepting it would mean that you shall offer your aid to any of our kind who find themselves in trouble in Cerion. In addition you would assist in strengthening our relationship and trust with your country and its men.” She smiles sweetly.

  “We have grown fond of you. We should like to remind you of your status. You have been bestowed with a gift of armor by Scree’s parentage, a mark of Iren’s confidence in you. You also carry with you a token of great trust from Cerion’s Academy. Have you forgotten?”

  I remember Uncle’s ring, which I retrieve from my belt pouch. Beside me, Rian’s eyes widen as he recognizes it. I turn the signet in my hand, looking over the strong symbol that represents the Headmaster of Cerion’s only school of magic. My uncle, who trusted me enough to offer me this token, which shows anyone who might question me that my word is as good as his. I tuck the ring safely away again and slip my hand into Rian’s.

  “Most impressive of all,” Crocus says softly, “Is how much you accomplished on your own, without making use of that.”

  “Not on my own,” I tug Rian’s hand so he steps closer, and take Flitt’s hand on my other side. “Ember, Shush,” I gesture to their mushroom tops, which they’ve left behind to join the dance. “Flitt, Twig, Rian, all of us worked together.” I look around for Twig, who seems to be absent.

  “Indeed,” Crocus giggles. “Which reminds us,” she looks down at Scree, whose voice booms across the ring.

  “We offer you your True Wish, Azaeli, for returning the Oculus and restoring Iren, The Shadow Crag embodied, The Mountain Keeper, Esteemed Guardian of the Northern Border. What do you wish?” Some of the dancing fairies settle down as his voice rumbles over the din, but many remain dancing in a colorful blur around the outside of the Ring.

  “What do you wish, what do you wish?” The gathering of fae repeats his words over and over in a hypnotizing rhythm. I glance at Flitt and go over in my mind one more time the wish that we rehearsed together as we made our way here earlier. True wishes are tricky, she warned me. They must be worded perfectly in order to be sure you get exactly what you want.

  “My True Wish,” I start, and suddenly everything is silent and still. The dancing fairies stop abruptly, and all eyes are on me.

  “Ow,” Flitt whispers and pulls her hand free from mine, flexing her fingers. I offer her an apologetic glance and loosen my other hand’s grip on Rian’s as I focus on my wish.

  “What did I miss?” I recognize Twig’s voice among the crowd, followed by a hiss for him to be quiet as the mass of fairies leans forward collectively, waiting to hear what I’ll wish for. I close my eyes and recall the words one more time before I speak.

  “My True Wish is for Bane’s Pass Keep to be restored to its former strength and returned to its rightful place at the border between the country of Cerion and the land known
to my people as the Outlands, that the North border of Kythshire remain undisturbed by my people now and always.”

  Crocus gazes northward, her flawless porcelain skin glowing bright against the deep blue of her petals as the ground beneath us trembles. In the distance I hear strange noises, loud cracks, muffled rumbles, thunderous sounds. The fairies around the Ring cling to one another and murmur quietly amongst themselves. I’m vaguely aware of Flitt’s hand slipping back into mine as Crocus returns her attention to us. She speaks in unison with Scree this time.

  “It is done,” they declare together. “We are immensely grateful for your selfless use of this wish. Azaeli Hammerfel, Rian Eldenae, Lisabella Hammerfel, if there is nothing further, then we wish you a safe return to Cerion. Shall we send you there now?” Crocus asks.

  Flitt watches us with interest, her eyes changing quickly from magenta to purple, from blue to gold.

  “No thank you,” I smile up at Rian, who pulls me close as the fairies start their dance again. “I think we’d prefer to ride home.” I reach for Mum’s hand. “All of us, together.”

  Thank you so much for reading Call of Kythshire. I hope you loved reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please be sure to write me a review on Amazon. I’d love to hear from you!

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  Can’t get enough? Read on for a sneak peak of Book Two in the Half-Realm series:

  Call of Sunteri

  Book Two Preview: Call of Sunteri

  Chapter One: Flame and Sea

  Tib

  Filth and grunge. Rats. Rot. Bones. Cobbles. Stench. Sobbing. Striking. Silence.

  “Climb the wall.”