She looked directly at Sami and said, “You are made of all your memories, times, and places—those you were present for, as well as the ones that came before, and those yet to come. They are your bones and your power. They bring completion. Balance.” The girl held up her hand and Sami noticed she was wearing a sapphire ring on her finger—just like the one Teta had given Sami. “There are three Ifrit stones—emerald for the earth and good health, ruby for fire and might, and sapphire for sky and freedom. Only the truly bold in spirit and courageous of heart will know the magic of the Genie’s Eye. Complete the trio of gems and there will be freedom.”
Sami nodded. In turn, she told the girl, “Don’t sleep tonight—the desert raiders will be coming!”
Then she began falling or awakening—the air turned cooler—she felt it in a sudden rush of plummeting. Cooler and cooler. Drier. All at once there was a great bouncing splash of something like raked leaves.
And stillness.
* * *
She finally dared open her eyes.
There actually were leaves—tiny budlike leaves, tender limbs, twigs—some sort of blue shrubbery. The air was the powdery Silverworld air, and the bushes she’d landed in were soft as feathers.
After a moment of letting her breath settle back in her body, Sami set about removing herself from the hedges. She swam around a little before she rolled and tipped out onto her knees in the grass. A sense of anticipation bloomed inside her chest. She was on Castle Isle, she was certain of it. The grass had a sheen and the sky rippled with sheets of crimson and gold light as the sun crept toward the horizon.
Sami got to her feet and scanned her surroundings. Dozens of trees and bushes, arrayed all around, were pruned into fantastic shapes of dancing bears and roaring lions and ships sailing and birds with outstretched wings. Between them, marble walkways with a faint glow twisted through the grass and curved into spirals. There were rows of towering indigo palm trees, their trunks dotted and strung with what looked like necklaces of glittering gems.
She was completely, totally alone.
Off in the distance, at the end of three rows of palm trees, rose the form of a vast palace, its silhouette jagged with turrets and gables, arches and towers. Several gables were topped with flags and banners, starkly white against the glinting silver walls of the castle. They flapped and curled, and Sami felt the same chill that had run through her when she’d first seen the enormous Stone Keeper statue guarding the entrance to the Bare Isles.
“Castle Shadow!” she murmured, then caught herself: the Nixie would be listening. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and cleared her mind. Sami imagined a thick cloak tumbling down, covering all of her thoughts.
There was no sign of the Flickers anywhere and she didn’t dare risk sending out her thoughts to them. Still, she wished Dorsom and Natala were there as she scanned the fiery, purpling sky.
Sami knew there wasn’t much time left before this gloaming happened and the Nixie was released from the castle. She brushed the bits of twigs and leaves from her clothes, smoothed her hair, and pulled her grandmother’s ring out of her pocket. She rubbed her thumb over the little gem. Was this ring the Genie’s Eye? The stone felt cool to the touch—almost cold, in fact. She slid the ring on and it seemed somehow it had shrunk to fit her finger. And she noticed something curious about its color: something she’d first mistaken for a bit of sparkle was now, quite clearly, a pinprick of light. The stone shone on her hand.
Sami quickly twisted the ring so the gem was cupped in her palm and slipped her hand into her pocket.
Moments later, there was a blur in the sky and she heard the familiar clapping of leathery wings.
The flurry snapped into a slot beside her, then Bat appeared, her blue-tinted curls roiling in the wind. “Little good it does to try and sneak around the Castle Shadow,” she said. “The Nixie and ten thousand Shadow soldiers have already scented you out.”
“Bat.” Sami nearly laughed with relief—she had never felt so glad to see anyone. “You found me!”
“The light from your ring. We all saw it. But I was the only one who could reach you quickly. The others will have to struggle and muddle on foot to make their way here.”
Sami gazed at the far-off castle smoldering against the red sky. Thick red clouds whirred and spun around its spires and flapping flags. Just the sight of it made her feel cold all over. “It’s the gloaming now—it’s started, hasn’t it? It’s under way,” she murmured.
“They’re here—all around us. The Shadows are waiting.” Bat studied the gathering clouds in grim silence. “You mustn’t approach the Castle Shadow alone now. Your friends will be here soon enough.”
But Sami shook her head and turned, her hand closed around the stone in her ring. Bat plucked up her long skirts and hurried after Sami. “You mustn’t! The Nixie! Silverwalker, I beg you.”
“No time,” Sami said over her shoulder. “She’s getting stronger and stronger. It might already be too late.”
The rolling turquoise lawn was paved with several twisting routes and one central marble path that led in a straight line to the castle. She considered trying to stay hidden, to creep along the hedges, then rejected the idea. Bat was right—it was too late for sneaking. If Nixie was even half as powerful as everyone said, it was likely she was watching Sami right now. Better to stick to the straight and open path, she thought, and travel as swiftly as she could. Her heart beat against her ribs and when she gazed at the castle, it seemed as if she could actually feel the Nixie there, a presence like hot smoke, waiting silently within her silver walls.
“This is madness! Foolish for both of us!” Bat hissed. “I’ve come too close already. She’ll burn me to cinders, sprinkle me on her wine.”
Behind her, Sami heard the snap and flitter that meant her friend had turned back into a bat. “Let me go alone,” Sami said without turning. “I never meant to drag you into any of this. Protect yourself now, while you can!”
“If only I could.” The bat chittered and circled, then squeaked. “But I shall not let you go alone. I’m afraid I’m with you till the end of it, Silverwalker.”
Sami held her head high as Bat circled and wheeled around her. The castle grounds were eerily quiet, filled with amazing topiary. As she passed through the greenery, she thought she noticed whirls and leaping things cut into the lavender-shaded twigs and leaves, shapes that at certain angles appeared to have mouths and eyes and anguished facial expressions. One shrub in particular—man-sized, eggplant-colored—reminded Sami of the Shadow being who’d first defended her to the Rotifer. She stopped and studied the topiary a moment, recalling the way stars had seemed to twinkle in the shadow’s body. Bat wheeled over her head and Sami nodded and moved on.
As she walked, she began to pick up on a haze of sounds, voices trickling into her consciousness. It was, she realized, just like the way her mind had been flooded when she’d crossed the Bare Straits, those voices cutting through her with their hundreds of stabbing questions and thoughts. Once again, the murmurs crept into her brain. But this time, she noticed, the messages were different.
They were begging. Weeping. Pleading.
She listened closely, slowing her pace to try to make out the words.
She heard: I’m trapped. Oh, I’m caught. Oh, help me, please, I beg, help us!
The pleas rose up, echoing and increasing, more and more cries, filling her thoughts.
Set me free, I beg you! Set me free!
Sami pressed her fingers to her temples: Too much. Too many voices to hear.
She was approaching a row of marble columns, glittering and golden, lining the central path beside the palm trees. As she grew closer, she was better able to make out faces caught inside the veined marble pillars. She saw mouths twisted into expressions of dread and horror. Help us, they cried. Each column radiated thoughts. We can’t move. Can�
�t breathe.
Gradually, Sami understood: these were all prisoners—every tree and shrub, every statue and column. Somehow, they’d been cast into and contained inside these altered shapes. Every bit of this lovely landscape, even the manicured lawn, seemed to hold captive prisoners.
Then, at the edges of these pleas, another, darker tide began rolling in—new voices prickled inside her head. These were familiar: the old questions and doubts that had attacked her when she first waded across the Bare Straits:
Who do you think you are?
Why are you doing this?
She stood still, calmly scanning the scene, and felt Bat flutter onto her shoulder, perching there upright like a bird. Sami sensed the creature trying to steady itself, almost as if it were lining its spirit up with Sami’s—the way two people learn to move together on a bicycle.
“I’m with you,” Bat said. “Don’t listen to the others.”
You’ll never survive this!
The questioning voices grew louder and harsher, crashing into the pleas for help. Sami felt them splashing around her like waves, growing higher and stronger, trying to stop her, to drive her away. But they didn’t. To her surprise, she remained calm and quiet inside.
She wasn’t afraid.
It was the strangest thing. The voices hissed and charged, yet none of it affected her. All sorts of thoughts spilled in, mixing and circling in different directions.
How dare you?
Turn back.
Help. Help me!
And there was this one that she seemed to hear mingling among the others: You are made of all your memories, times, and places—those you were present for, as well as the ones that came before, and those yet to come. They are your bones and your power.
Sami kept her eyes straight ahead and didn’t slow her pace. She and Bat soon reached the flight of long, low palace steps, each one perfectly bone white. She climbed slowly, flight after flight, gradually ascending hundreds of steps. These led to a gleaming apron of marble, ringed by seven carved archways. In the center, the largest arch was flanked by statues of extraordinary creatures—rearing pink lions, emerald unicorns, periwinkle gargoyles, dark winged children, as well as other marvelous beings in every color with scales and quills or feathers and horns. Like the creatures in the marble columns, these statues were all twisted into expressions of sorrow and pain. Sami put her hand on one of the winged children and felt a quiver of sadness go straight to her heart.
“ ’Tis good you have come,” Bat murmured. “Brave you are—unlike my Shadowy self. The Bleak Fairy has unbounded powers and mystery, but yours I think may be even greater.”
Sami nodded. She felt charged with a kind of building strength and determination. She took another good breath, and as they ascended the last few steps the last bits of doubting, attacking voices faded and wisped away.
The castle’s grand double doors towered over them, their dark surface covered with what looked like hundreds of silvery inscriptions in an unknown language. Both of the doors were painted with a huge pea-green eye, so the double door seemed to stare at anyone approaching. There was no knob or latch that Sami could see, so she lifted her fist to give a sharp knock on one of the eyes, when the doors swung open.
Bat’s wings made a single startled flap. Before them stood another statue, this one at least thirty feet high and chiseled in the same marble as the smaller entryway statues, so delicately detailed that for a moment, Sami was nearly fooled into thinking it was alive.
It was an exact likeness of the Ifrit Sami had seen in the gazing pool, the mermaid she’d spied for a few seconds before it had dissolved away.
The Ifrit’s twisting hair drifted in white stone around her shoulders, looking as if it had been just touched by a breeze; her eyes were closed and her face filled with powerful love and despair. An enormous tail tapered away from her waist, bent in a U, and rose above her head into a fluke glistening with marble scales.
“It’s the Ifrit! Why does the Nixie have this statue?” Sami muttered.
“I know not,” Bat squeaked. “Nor do I wish to find out.”
Sami’s hand instinctively tightened around the sapphire ring. She moved closer and studied the creature carefully. One of the stone hands floated high in the air, as if strumming invisible ocean currents, the other was lowered, closed around a dagger. Sami studied its handle, the only bit of color in the marble whiteness: on one side of the hilt was a glittering green stone, on the other was one of deep crimson. Each gem was just about the size of a half-dollar.
She took her hand from her pocket: the ring seemed to hum, as if it had its own tiny spirit.
“The stone, the stone!” Bat creaked. She unfolded her wings and circled Sami, tilting and folding and flapping. “It’s singing!”
It did seem to be singing, almost trembling, as Sami lifted her fingertips and looked again at the dagger. But there was nowhere to place the sapphire.
At that moment, she heard a familiar voice cry, “Samara, wait!”
Dorsom walked out from behind the statue.
“Oh. Oh my gosh—” Sami lowered her hands and ran to her friend, Bat flapping over her head. “I can’t believe it—you’ve made it. I was so worried. And where’s Natala? When did you get here?”
“All shall be explained.” Dorsom grabbed her wrist. “But we’ve got to hurry—the sun sinks—the gloaming will begin!”
They ran out a door in the back of the grand entry and into a vast hallway with polished wooden floors and carved wooden screens. Their footsteps echoed in the corridors as they passed tiled water fountains and birds in immense cages. They raced through an open courtyard, where Flickers in sea-green turbans and robes stood beside rust-colored camels with black eyes.
“Where—where are we going?” Sami gasped.
“We’re almost there!” Dorsom ran so quickly, he was pulling her. They passed through another arched doorway and came to an enormous circular gazing pool, the size of a city block. It glimmered sky blue and gold, as if lit by a hundred hidden suns.
“I’ll get in and you toss the Eye to me,” Dorsom called.
This didn’t follow anything the Ifrit had said before, but Dorsom seemed so confident, Sami pulled the ring off. Just as she was about to toss it, though, she saw a dark light move over his face.
Something in her drew back. Her fingers closed around the stone.
“Hurry!” he called. “Throw it now.”
“Dorsom…” Sami frowned, then clutched the ring to her chest. She looked all around but could see no sign of Bat. “I just—just was wondering something.”
“What? What do you—?”
“How did you know I was carrying the Genie’s Eye?”
He tilted his head, smiling. “Well, Samara, you just said so—didn’t you?”
“Dorsom…” She crossed her arms. “Do you know—what is my greatest fear?”
His face stiffened with impatience. “We don’t have time for games, child. What are you talking about?”
“Just—trust me.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t do anything until you answer my question. What is my greatest fear?”
He stared at her, then smiled. “Well, of course, your greatest fear is of the dark.”
Sami filled with dread. She shook her head. “Who are you?”
“What do you mean? I’m Dorsom, of course, silly girl. I’m—I’m your Flicker. Your one and only reflection.” He smiled broadly.
Sami turned to run but the doorway seemed to melt into a solid wall. She slapped against it, moving her hands and arms over the solid surface in disbelief. “Let me out!” she cried.
“Give me the Eye,” a cold voice said behind her, “you horrid little Actual.”
She turned and watched as the fake Dorsom seemed to melt just like the door had. He became a puddle t
hat rose into crackling, staticky gray mist and filled the room. From the mist came a thrumming voice: “Give me the Eye or I’ll destroy you and take it.”
All Sami’s confidence and calm seemed to freeze. Still, she tightened her grip on the ring. “You’ll never get it!”
The static sprinkled into the gazing pool and there was a dark flash.
There, filling the huge pool, was an Ifrit like the one in the grand entryway. Her gray U-shaped tail flipped and turned, her hair snaked in fat, ashen ringlets, and her eyes were full of crimson sparks. “Give me my Eye,” the Ifrit said, “and I’ll let you go unharmed. Give me what’s mine. I was the finder of the Eye. It fell from the crown of the old giantesses who once ruled the Worlds. I found it millennia ago, rolling on the ocean floor. You have stolen what’s mine.”
A voice hissed down from the corner of the vaulted ceiling: “Not truth.” Bat swooped between Sami and the gazing pool. “Nixie that is—destroyer and deceiver!”
The mermaid roared and rose dripping from the pool, snatching at the bat. The enormous creature kept going, as if she could swim through the air itself, until she floated just above the water—much in the way Sami had seen Rotifer hang above the surging waves. Her hair and arms undulated and her tail snaked back and forth as she looked from Bat to Sami. “You know nothing of who or what I am.”
“You’re the Shadow Nixie,” Sami retorted. “You stole all those creatures and imprisoned them at your palace. You’re the thief.”
“Such a clever one,” said the Nixie. “You’ve become so knowledgeable. Did you know about this, then?” She swept one arm forward and the blue gazing pool vanished, dropping away into an eternal fall.
She was pierced by horror. There was something so dreadful about the bottomless opening, Sami felt it was somehow more than total. In the Actual World, even emptiness could have a sort of presence. This was nothing but absence—perfect and limitless. Sami was so terrified by the sight she tried to step away, but her legs turned to jelly and her head swam.
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