by B. J. Smash
No, I would not doubt the Elven. They were masters at battle. Totally competent and more. Conri was adept at placement and strategy, while Niall could sense things and go with his gut instincts like no other. And Drumm was nimble and fast; so quick were his movements that sometimes all you’d see was a blur speeding by. All of the other Elven that I met were just as amazing. I had faith in them all.
I would be the one to use magic, to work my way into my sister’s lair and find Aggie’s book of spells. My fear was that I would let them down. Was I good enough? There was no room for failure. I refused to fail. Everything that Izadora taught me in the short time that we had, I would use to succeed. Everyone would be counting on me. There would be no room for failure. But there was one last thing that I needed to do before we left.
One thing that bothered me was, what was Izaill’s place in all of this? And Magella? Why had Izadora given me her ring?
“Now go get ready for tomorrow,” Ian scolded me. “My brothers are preparing and so should you be. As soon as you leave, I will finish my preparations. Meet us out front at the crack of dawn.”
What did his preparations consist of? He seemed quite involved with his accounts. I stood up to leave, with Lucian right behind me.
“And, Miss Seaforth, get some rest. You’re going to need it,” Ian said without looking up. When he thought we were out of sight, I saw him toss his ledger aside, revealing another leather-bound book below it. He opened it and began to read.
What was he reading? Was he just pretending to work on his accounts until we left?
***
Convincing Lucian that he should be helping his father and uncles was a hard task, but I finally succeeded. I told him that I would be going straight to Gran’s. That was the truth; I did go straight to Gran’s. Then I donned the necklace that had belonged to my mother, and left again. I had been keeping the necklace in my sock drawer, inside the blue silk bag that it came in. GG Edmund had given it to me not too long ago. The stone was similar to an opal, or even a moonstone. And it packed some power. I didn’t wear it all the time, as Izadora had given me a crystal and told me to place them together and let them sit for a time. Apparently, according to Izadora, crystals could hold spells, and she had placed a spell on the crystal she’d given me. She said it would enhance the necklace.
Truthfully, I hadn’t believed her, but I did it anyway. Now would be the time to wear it again, and that’s why I had placed it back around my neck. And I could feel the zing from the stone even more so than before. Perhaps the old witch knew what she was talking about.
Making my way back up to Ian’s, I poked in the security code in the gate pad and passed through. I couldn’t very well go around the house and hop the big wall that enclosed the garden. Silvie, the guardian of the garden, would probably meet me there. I wanted to avoid her at all costs. I would have to sneak through the sunroom.
If Ian was still in the sunroom, I would have to explain myself. I would tell him I needed to go to Izadora’s. And I did need to go there, but more importantly, I needed to talk to the trees.
A few days ago, that thought would have made me laugh out loud. Not now. Now I was a true believer.
I stealthily made my way through the foyer, unseen. When I reached the sunroom, there was no one there. Ian’s books were still spread out on the table, and I was sure he’d be back any moment. I sped out of there, closing the French doors behind me. I’d been just in time, too. As I walked off, I could see Ian returning to the table.
The garden must have had its own “private” rain shower. It smelled of damp flowers, fresh and inviting. As I sped along, moist earth smells wafted through the air. Besides cut grass and lilacs, that had to be my favorite smell.
Silvie was nowhere to be seen, thank God. And I left through the gate.
The air in the woods had a chill to it already. Out here, crickets and frogs could be heard. The ground felt cool beneath my feet, and the occasional breeze rustled the treetops. Lately, I had begun to feel one with the forest.
Ahead I could see Milo and Hansgard lying at their post at the bottom of the stairs. Ever since I’d gotten my Elven ears back, the forest didn’t seem so dark and foreboding. Well, it was still foreboding, actually, but not as dark. My eyes were keener, and I could see clearer.
The dogs perked up and wagged their tails. One of them stood, happy to see me. I reached my hand out to pat him, but the dog growled at me.
Realizing it was Milo, I said, “Hey, boy, what’s the matter? It’s me, Ivy.” Hansgard sat up, a low grumble escaping his throat.
“What is wrong with you guys?” I asked. They weren’t going to let me pass to Izadora’s.
Milo began barking a vicious, snapping bark.
Then it occurred to me that he wasn’t looking at me, but behind me. I turned around and jumped back; slowly walking backward, I fell onto the stairs and sat down.
Izaill stood with his back leaning against a tree, legs crossed, arms folded. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette. As he lit it, he said, “Call the dogs off. We need to talk.”
Running up to Izadora’s seemed like the best idea. I knew Izaill was forbidden to enter the air. His mother Aggie had cursed him to be “earth,” and he was not allowed in the air. I stood my ground.
“I-Izaill,” I stammered. “Milo, Hansgard. Sit.”
They didn’t obey me until the fifth time I said it. After all, they really only listen to Izadora or Drumm. They continued to growl as I spoke to Izaill. “What do you want?”
“You tell me. You are the one who freed me. I’ve been sending Izadora messages through the fire all afternoon. She does not answer.” He took a puff off the cigarette and said, “Tell me why.” The smoke lingered around his face. I don’t think it was just from the cigarette, either.
When he spoke of sending messages through the fire, I knew that meant the fireplace. That’s how they liked to communicate.
I took a deep breath and let it out. My legs felt like jelly, and I continued to sit on the stairs so that he wouldn’t see them shaking. “She’s been put under a spell by my Aunt Cora. She ate a piece of enchanted cake. She…” I hope that I wouldn’t regret telling him this. Should he know that Izadora is in a sleep that she cannot be awakened from? He would know how defenseless I really was.
“She is in a deep sleep,” I continued. His laughter startled me a foot from the stairs. I grabbed the railing, hugging it close, and slid back down.
“One of her own,” he spoke through his laughter, “has turned against her. You see, this is the stuff I live for.” He continued to laugh, bending to slap his leg.
Milo and Hansgard stood and bared their teeth.
I spoke up. “She said to tell you that she saw the three of you in the ring of death.”
His laughter was cut short. He straightened. His silver eyes were now tinted red. Taking one long puff from the cigarette until it was spent, he then flicked it with his finger, tossing it into the woods. “That’s not supposed to happen for a long time. Was she telling you the truth?”
“She—she said you’d help me.” The stone from my mother’s necklace heated up my chest. I let go of the railing and straightened my spine. Being a coward would get me nowhere. It was time that I stood up for myself.
His face stern, he said, “Did she, now?”
“She did.” I stood up, forcing my legs to hold still. “Are you in?” Honestly, I didn’t know how he was to help me; all I knew was that somehow he would.
Surprised that I stood, he smiled briefly. His tinted red eyes glared at me. “Why did your aunt put her under?”
“She’s gone crazy. A love spell turned bad. I think she’s gone to find Rodinand.”
At the mention of his name, his face frowned, and he spat on the ground. “And so shall I. No one betrays me. Including your sister.” Smoke lifted off from his skin. “She was supposed to work for me, not him.”
I shuddered to think what he’d do to Zinnia.
/> “I need to retrieve Aggie’s book of spells. Will you help me?”
“I need to retrieve Aggie’s book of spells. Not you,” he sneered.
He turned and walked into the woods, although no footsteps could be heard. I watched until I could see his dark shadow no more. The knot in my chest subsided.
“I wish that were true,” I mumbled, “but the book is mine.”
The dogs slightly relaxed, and I patted them briefly before I took off upstairs.
Checking on Izadora, I found that she hadn’t moved an inch. Not that I had expected her to. She still lay under the white afghan, lightly snoring. The floorboards creaked as I moved around, and I felt so alone in the cool, dark room.
She’d be fine. But would I? And how long could she survive this deep sleep before she passed on?
“I’ll do my best to save you, you old witch.” I tried to sound brave, but my voice faltered.
I grabbed the pen-sized twig from the mantle. The “stick-wand” from Aggie’s rowan tree. I put it in my pocket and left.
Chapter Nineteen
I must have sat at fifty trees. Time was not in my favor. It had to be past midnight already.
Each time I aligned my spine to a tree, I could feel the zinging of their energy—but no memories. They wouldn’t talk to me. “Thank you, Izadora!” I yelled out in frustration.
After sitting at the trees, I doubted I’d even need sleep. Feeling like I’d eaten twenty candy bars, I hurried from tree to tree. Finally, I spoke up. “Yes, I know that Izadora commanded you not to show me any more memories. However, I must leave soon. I will be going to dangerous ground. If you can tell me anything—anything about my aunts, or anything about anyone—please do.” I then added, “Izadora needs help, too. I need to figure out why she was put under.” Maybe that would convince them.
Maybe the trees didn’t know anything else? Maybe they’d forgotten? Or the likely answer would be that they were afraid of Izadora’s warning.
I sat down at three more trees—nothing. But the next one was different. I could tell right away that when I sat down, it forcefully pulled me into alignment. The movie played before my eyes.
A young couple ran through the forest, over a sloping hill, holding hands. They ran down toward the tree I sat at. The horror on their faces made me cringe with concern. The frantic young woman tripped and fell to her knees right before me.
A ball formed in my chest when I realized who this young woman was. None other than…Silvie. Her tearstained face was white as cream cheese. The young man spoke to her, but I couldn’t hear what he said. He himself was a nice-looking man, with a strong face and long dark brown hair, and he had fear written all over his features. He pulled her up. Her ankle was bleeding, and she grabbed at her leg, grimacing in pain. They continued on a short ways.
Men on horses. No, not men. The Regal Folk in all their finery. The women had all the elegance in the world. Satin gowns, sleek and jeweled. Glorious, brilliantly shiny hair worn in different ways, decorated with flowers, bells, jewels, shells. Perfect features, straight noses, high cheekbones, some with plump lips, some with thin lips…all beautiful.
The males, all handsome. Dressed in similar fashion to one another. Fancy brocaded coats, breeches, and boots. One in particular caught my eye. He had dark hair tied at the nape. He wore a hunter green pirate-looking coat and black breeches. His leather boots hugged his strong calves.
These beings had to be of the Unseelie and not the Seelie. I know because I’d seen this man before. At my sister’s so-called wedding. He had been the one to marry my sister to the Fae. Although here, he appeared to be younger, and he didn’t have any facial hair. Rodinand.
Alongside him, on a fancy horse with silver bells tied to the mane, sat the young version of my Aunt Cora. A burgundy-colored cape sat draped over her bare shoulders. A gown the color of blood fell down her legs, with silver ballerina shoes on her feet.
Her eyes were open wide, as if she were in shock. Strangely, the men carried bows on their back, arrows in quivers. The last time I’d seen the Regal Folk, they had no such things. Of course, they had all been dancing at that time.
I couldn’t hear what was being said, nor could I hear any of the bells on the horses’ manes. This was a silent movie.
The man in the hunter green coat yelled something at my aunt, his face enraged.
He handed her his bow.
She accepted it.
The man pointed to the young couple who continued on their way up a slope. Leaves covered the forest floor, and Silvie climbed but slid back down. Her young man hauled her up again.
Aunt Cora held the bow, with the arrow aligned at the ready. Her hands shook, and tears fell down her face.
“No, Aunt Cora. Don’t do it!” I yelled out.
She pulled back even farther and then she loosened her grip, letting the arrow drop to the ground. One of the Fae men gave her another arrow. She was being yelled at.
Again, she aligned the arrow. Everyone watched as she aimed the arrow at Silvie and who I now knew must be Ainsley. She aimed. Right before she let the arrow go, she moved her bow slightly to the right, appearing as if she were trying to miss them, and closed her eyes.
The arrow swiftly zipped by, hitting the hill. But right after, another one was shot by someone else, and it slammed into Silvie’s back. She fell face-first to the ground, blood staining her yellow dress. Ainsley, horror-struck, sank to the ground and wrapped his arm around her. Someone anonymous shot another arrow and struck him in the back.
My whole body tingled with fear. Despair overwhelmed me, as their very lives were ended.
Aunt Cora opened her eyes. Her shoulders were slouched, her face screwed up in sorrow. She saw Silvie and, thinking that her arrow had been the one to kill her, she slumped over, crumpling into a ball and falling from the horse to a heap on the ground.
The man in the dark green coat lifted her up and forced her back onto her horse, sitting behind her. They continued on their way as if nothing much had just happened. Aunt Cora buried her face in the horse’s mane and wept. The man in the dark green coat patted her on the back. And then they were gone.
Chapter Twenty
I’m not a crybaby, but I cried for five minutes at the base of that tree. Turning around, I hugged the tree, and somehow it consoled me. Falling asleep, I awoke to the sound of wolves howling off in the distance. At my feet lay something large and furry.
Picking up my head, I saw one of the hellhounds. “Milo? Hansgard?” I asked. It wasn’t one of them, or they’d be licking my face by now. I knew it wasn’t Ian, and it couldn’t be one of his brothers.
That left Lucian.
“Lucian?” I asked.
The hellhound lifted his white, furry head and perked up his red ears. He pawed at my foot in a playful manner.
“Oh, Lucian, they—they killed Silvie. And Ainsley, too.” My eyes felt puffy, like there was sand in them.
The hellhound stood up, tilted his head to the side as if trying to understand me, and walked off into the dark forest. He was probably mad at me. Now that I knew the story, probably everyone at Ian’s hated my Aunt Cora. She hadn’t been the one to shoot Silvie, though. She had missed on purpose! Poor Silvie. Poor, poor Silvie.
I heard a twig snap.
“You should be home in bed.” Lucian appeared from behind a tree. “We leave in four hours.”
“I’m fine. I slept at the tree,” I said.
“Your grandmother called. She said you never came home.”
Ah, shoot. I should have spent my last evening with Gran, Grandpa, and my father. They must think I’m selfish. That made me even sadder.
“I did go home but they didn’t see me, and I snuck back out. I had to know…I had to know why Aunt Cora did what she did to Izadora. I had to know why my aunt didn’t think she was welcome at Ian’s—”
“She is welcome at Ian’s. What makes you say that?”
“She told me so. She said she had to go the long w
ay to Izadora’s because she couldn’t walk through Ian’s.”
“Oh. I guess its best you talk to Ian about all this,” he said. “But don’t worry about anything right now, just get home and say good-bye to your family. Uh…I don’t mean good-bye, good-bye. Ya know, just, ah…see ya later.”
“I suppose you’re right.” I couldn’t discuss this with anyone yet. I had to ponder this stuff over for a while. But I had to ask him one question.
“What does my Aunt Clover have to do with all this? Can you tell me?” I shivered from the cool air.
“While we walk back, I’ll tell you what I know.” He smiled and put his arm around my shoulders.
His body was warm, but he wasn’t Drumm. I lifted his arm from my shoulders and said, “I’m fine. Go ahead—tell me, please.”
I studied him for a moment as we walked briskly to the gate. With his handsome features and great attitude, he could get any girl he wanted.
“All I know, is this: Clover met Ainsley in the woods. At the time, Ainsley was attached to the Unseelie. That’s what Ian believes, anyway.” He sighed and continued. “Clover at the time belonged to Magella.”
“Wait a minute, what?” This was news to me. “First of all, how does she belong to someone?” As I said it, I knew exactly how. “She’s got Magella’s symbol? Right now, the past is mingling with the future. I’ve got to know.”
“I think I’m saying too much. I really like you, and I want you to know, but…all I can say is, she turned to Magella for help when Izadora wouldn’t give it to her,” he said.
Before he could speak, howling interrupted our conversation, and six hellhounds were surrounding us, panting, pawing, and sniffing at the ground.
“I can only remain human for so long during the night hours. I’ll have to change back soon. We’ll walk you to your grandmother’s driveway, and then I must go. We’ll talk later.”