“What is it?” I glanced left and right, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
At first, Jazz only shrugged. Then she opened her mouth and closed it. Finally, she said, “It’s nothing. I’m just nervous about seeing everyone and everything.”
This sounded reasonable enough, but my gut twisted in a bad way. I studied her face for a few paces, then let go of her hand and dropped back. She didn’t try to stop me.
If I wasn’t imagining things, she seemed more tense now, like the old, uptight Jazz. Was the pressure of being queen already getting to her again before we even made it to the Path? I didn’t get that. I mean, I would be there to help her, and my dad, her mom, Rol—lots of witches. And Nire was gone, so…
Once more, I stared at the tight, hurried way she was walking.
Was she hiding something?
No way. Why would she do that? Yet that same twist in my gut relaxed a little as if to say, yeah, king-boy. That’s the ticket. She’s up to her old tricks, keeping something major to herself.
Before she died, I would have confronted her, demanded that she spill it right now or else. Now, I didn’t know. People who had been to the land of the dead and made it out—maybe they should be allowed a few secrets. At least for a while.
So, for the time being, I brushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on how happy Rol and Dame Corey would be. Man, was everyone going to be shocked to see her alive again. They had doubted me, but I’d proved them wrong.
About an hour after we stopped for lunch, we finally reached fairyland, and I was able to walk side-by-side with Jazz and hold her hand in that place without worrying. It was so bright, so peaceful, and I had a sense it was truly safe. I could concentrate on other things, like how much I really liked Jazz’s small fingers in mine. It made me feel good. Made me feel like a king.
Oh, yeah. I was a king. But now a king without his magic—sort of. But a king with his queen.
That thought made me smile, then frown. We loved each other, but we were too young to get married. I didn’t even want to think about that.
In fairyland, Jazz stared in amazement at the sun-filled place overflowing with brightly colored flowers and exotic vegetation, all the stuff I’d never seen before our first trip through here. Not to mention the dwarves and the playful, tiny fairies.
“Where are we?” Jazz asked, her golden eyes wide. For a witch who always seemed to know everything before she had gone to Talamadden, I was amazed she didn’t know about this place, too.
“The Sacred Lands, Your Majesty,” Acaw said before I could answer.
Jazz nodded, as if with understanding. “The mythic home of the small folk.”
I scratched my probably-fleas and glared at Acaw’s back. Why had he given Jazz information he hadn’t given to me? Just like the twerp to play favorites.
When we reached the round door, Jazz stopped and stared at it. “This is an entrance to the Path?”
“Yeah.” I tugged her hand. “Come on.”
She remained stock still, her face growing whiter by the second. “Shadows,” she whispered. “The Shadows—I can’t.”
It dawned on me that she was afraid of the things that had killed her. I put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a light squeeze. “It’s all right. They’re gone. Todd and me, we cleaned this puppy out.”
I felt her release of breath, and some of the color returned to her cheeks. She straightened her shoulders. “Of course you would have.”
Acaw reached for the door, but Jazz held up her hand to halt him. “Wait.” She turned to me. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
By the sound of her voice, I could tell it was serious. “Okay. Shoot.”
She visibly took a deep breath. “You brought a new witch into L.O.S.T. not long ago. Her name is Sherise, and she’s a spy sent by Alderon.”
“Sherise?” I shook my head as my hand automatically reached for the moonstone tucked beneath my tunic. “No way. I can’t believe—”
“Believe it,” Jazz snapped, her golden eyes lit with that fire that usually either pissed me off, or made me want to kiss her just to shut her up. “In Talamadden, Egidus showed me a vision of her and Alderon. And of Alderon giving her a golem.”
I let go of the stone in a hurry. The mere thought of a golem in L.O.S.T. made my blood run cold. My scalp prickled and a wave of cold heat washed through me. “All this time there’s been a golem in L.O.S.T. and you’re just now telling me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you until we got close enough to do something about it.” She glanced at Acaw and then me. “We couldn’t have reached L.O.S.T. any faster if you did know.”
“You had no right holding back information from me.” I whirled and pounded on the round door with my fist. The stupid thing didn’t open. “I’m as much king as you are queen.”
Even though I still couldn’t get the friggin’ door to open.
“Allow me, Your Majesty.” Acaw eased in front of me and tapped on the door with his staff. The wooden portal swung wide and silver light spilled out of the opening. Those fresh smells enveloped us, and I realized they matched the scents of the Sacred Lands. I felt a surge of elation, an urge to jump through the opening and run down the Path. Freedom. At last. I was getting out of this place! But at the same time, my chest was tight with anger. Was there really a golem in L.O.S.T.? Beside us, Jazz had her arms folded across her chest like she was cold—and still afraid.
My anger and my weird elation died as fast as it came. I was such an idiot. I unclenched my fists and took her hand. “Sorry,” I mumbled, and squeezed her fingers. “Let’s get home and make sure nothing’s happened. We can clear up this whole thing about Sherise once we get back.”
Jazz nodded and followed me onto the Path. She jumped when the little door slammed shut behind us. The door disappeared again, like it had never been there at all. Once more, I felt that rush of over-the-top joy. A big part of me hoped I would never, ever see that place again.
I put Jazz in front of me so that I was following her down the narrow Path, but she kept a tight grip on my hand, so tight it almost hurt.
“You did it.” She stumbled a little, like she wasn’t used to the moving floor, and I helped steady her. “You restored the Path to its former glory.”
Her face didn’t seem so pale in the silvery light, and I felt a little swell of pride. “Yeah, me and Todd really worked to clean it up.”
“Impressive,” she said, and I smiled.
“Come,” Acaw’s voice was urgent, and I realized he was a ways ahead of us now.
Both Jazz and I practically ran down the Path after him now. The realization of what could be happening in L.O.S.T. balled in my gut like a fist. I couldn’t and wouldn’t regret going after Jazz. All I could do now was make right whatever could be wrong, if anything. As for Sherise, her moonstone had saved my life once, maybe twice. No way would I believe she brought a golem into LO.S.T. unless I saw it with my own eyes.
When we reached the door to LO.S.T., I tried to open a slit with the point of my sword, but nothing happened. It was like the very first time I’d tried to open a doorway onto the Path, and my sword had just slid down the rubbery skin and hadn’t worked.
Jazz looked at me, then tried her hand at it, literally, by running her finger down the doorway. It stayed closed.
“We’ll have to do it together,” Jazz said in an irritated tone.
“How?” The frustration in my voice matched hers.
“Work in harmony.” Acaw waved impatiently with his staff, then glanced over his shoulder. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was actually sniffing the air of the Path behind us. “You must hurry.”
Jazz and I looked at one another. It was never a good thing when an elfling told anyone to hurry. That much I’d figured out, for sure.
Was it getting darker? But, no. That couldn’t be. Still, it seemed like the silver of the Path walls was slowly turning a pale gray.
Both of us frowning, Jazz and I gr
asped hands. We turned our gazes to the doorway. I put my sword point to the wall, and she pressed her finger into the spongy material next to it. I was careful to not get my blade too close to her hand as we slowly slid an opening into the dimming silver.
Immediately, familiar odors filled my nose. The smell of modern-day pollution, the incense and herbs sold in the store we were about to enter. But then there was a stench that didn’t belong. A stench of filth and dead things.
The doorway fully opened and we both went completely still.
The store was a disaster. Bolts of cloth were unrolled down the pathways, herbs and broken potion bottles scattered across the floor. Baskets of dead spiders and dried newts were upside down.
But what was worse was the screaming and shouts we heard coming from outside the wrecked store.
Jazz and I bolted through the opening of the Path and then came up short, like our minds were one. We turned in tandem, grabbed hands, and sealed the Path behind Acaw. For a second, my head ached, like a spike punched into my left eye. I let out a shout, let go of Jazz, and pressed my hand to the spot. Then quick as it came, the pain was gone.
“Bren?” Jazz sounded way past urgent.
“Yeah. Coming.” I grabbed her hand again and we stumbled through the mess of a store to the chaos outside.
Giant harpy things—way bigger than the ones I’d seen in Talamadden—were swooping down on the oldeFolke and witches. Huge talons popped out of their hairy arms right above their human-looking hands, and their twisted, filthy human faces were so ugly they hurt my eyes. The beasts’ unearthly screeches made me want to clamp my hands over my ears and caused chills to run down my spine.
I dropped Jazz’s hand and shouted “Stop!” as I charged into the melee, waving my sword.
The only thing that happened was that I caught the attention of the biggest harpy of all. It swooped down at me, its ugly face twisted with fury. I braced myself and readied my sword. A touch of silver glinted from the blade, but my power felt drained. For the first time in a long time, fear climbed my spine.
The harpy dove at me, screeching. I ducked, but its talons scraped the scar on my face, drawing blood. Pain and fury drove me to swing my sword at the beast, but I missed as it swept back up into the sky.
I glanced over my shoulder, looking for Jazz to grab her hand and cast our ceasing spell together. She wasn’t there.
Not too far away I saw Rol shooting golden arrows from his head. They flew all around the harpies, but few made contact. The hits didn’t seem to do much damage, either. Acaw fought with his dagger and big fork. Where did he get a fork? Did I want to know?
I didn’t see Todd anywhere, though. And Jazz—
She was holding Acaw’s staff and shouting something in a strange language as she dodged one of the harpies. The thing screeched back at her, like it was talking to her.
At that second, Todd came charging into view, waving the sword Rol made for him. I felt a flash of panic—he’d been getting the hang of using the weapon, but I didn’t think he was ready for a battle like this.
“Get back!” I shouted, but nobody could hear over all that madness.
Dad and Sherise were right behind him, along with what looked like dozens of slithers. My little brother was bringing an army of creatures to fight. I was about to give a whoop of triumph when a harpy virtually fell out of the sky and raked a massive claw right across Todd’s chest. The cut seemed to tear him in half.
I heard Todd shout just as his sword flew out of his hand.
He went down hard.
Dad lunged forward and threw himself over Todd, shielding him as best he could. The slithers trumpeted furiously and bore down on the attacking harpy. Sherise actually snatched up Todd’s sword and swung it at the beast, trying to drive it back.
Anguish tore through me like a hot knife. No way could Todd have survived that attack. I ran forward just as a skin-stripping shriek sounded behind me. I whirled around to see the huge harpy again, this time diving straight for me, fast as any rocket.
I raised my sword, but too late. The harpy tore my weapon from my grip, almost taking my hand with it. Pain screamed through me and blood spurted. My hand was covered in red. It poured down my arm until I lowered it, and then started dripping on the ground. The burning throb was so great I almost dropped to my knees.
Someone grabbed my right hand as I cradled my sword arm against my chest. I whipped my head around and saw it was Jazz.
“Together!” she shouted. “Now!”
My teeth chattered from the sudden cold that slid through my body. I squeezed her hand and at the same time I yelled “Stop!” and she shouted “Cease!”
The spell worked in a big way.
Acaw froze in mid-movement, and his crow-brother in flight. Witches, hags, elflings, and other oldeFolke looked like stone statues, either running away or fighting. Rol had a bolt of yellow light hanging over his head, and I saw sparks at the end of Dame Corey’s fingertips. My dad and Todd—I didn’t see them anywhere. Or Sherise.
OldeTowne was a complete mess. Cauldrons had been spilled and cook fires doused, leaving frozen spirals of smoke in the air. Caved-in roofs marked at least a third of the huts. Walls had been torn apart. Wounded witches and oldeFolke lay everywhere.
Not dead, I prayed. Don’t let Todd be dead. Don’t let anyone be dead.
Even those ugly harpy things dangled in the air as if suspended from invisible ropes attached to the sky. They were more hideous when I was able to take a good look at them. The one holding my sword was so close, gripping my weapon. The jerk had been about to run me through with my own blade.
This time I did fall to my knees in exhaustion and pain. My hand. My sword hand hurt so badly, pain like I’d never felt before. I smelled my own blood, mingled with harpy stink, smoke, and other odors from all the destruction.
Jazz knelt beside me, sounding out of breath. She was holding Acaw’s staff in one hand, and her other still gripped mine.
“The harpies,” she said, her eyes lit with some kind of knowledge, like a light bulb had appeared over her head. “I tried to talk to them. I think we could try to communicate.” Her gaze dropped to where I held my arm to my chest. “Oh, Goddess, you’re bleeding.”
“No kidding.” I ground my teeth. My fingers hurt so badly.
“Let me see.” She released my other hand and moved in front of me.
I didn’t want to move. My fingers, my hand, my whole arm—on fire. My gut heaved from the pressure of the air on my skin, but I held my hand out. Dark spots flashed in front of my eyes. It couldn’t be. No way. I could feel them. The pain—I felt it in all my fingers, all the way up my arm.
But they weren’t there. All I saw on my left hand, my sword hand, was my pinky, my index finger, and my thumb. And two bloody stumps in between.
***
Chapter Nine
Blood seemed to be everywhere all at once. My heart hammered. “Bren. Look at me. Think with me. We have to slow the blood flow.”
Pale, with teeth clenched—he was shaking violently. Could he hear me? He swore once, twice, then met my eyes. The misery I saw in his face tore at my heart. I placed Acaw’s staff on the ground by his side, hoping the ancient elfling-crafted wood might lend him some strength.
Together, we murmured a spell of basic healing. Gold and silver energy flowed between us, then over Bren’s maimed hand. He grunted, then swore more as the light sizzled and crackled over the stumps where his missing fingers should have been. The bleeding slowed to a trickle, then gradually stopped. The magic was no more than a bandage. He needed true healing, deep healing, time, and safety—none of which I could grant him at the moment.
The strain of the ceasing spell began to pull at both of us, and Bren sagged backward in my arms. I couldn’t hold him up, so I eased him down on the blood-soaked grass. Even his face was covered in blood where his scar had been re-opened. His eyes fluttered and closed.
The spell—the battle—what could I do? Would the
magic fail when I stepped away from him, even though we’d practiced doing some magic apart? Bren would be a helpless target…
Slowly, carefully, I broke contact with Bren enough to stand. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off his chest, watching it move up and down, up and down. He was wounded, but not dead.
Not dead. Not dead. Not dead.
The devastation around me was unimaginable. I had no idea who had been slain, who was alive, or who could be saved. Tears washed down my face as I bent down, grabbed Acaw’s staff, and risked moving a few steps away from Bren. I still felt his magic, his power, mingling with mine.
The spell held. Thank the Goddess. I had to think. What—how—there had to be—
Gripping the staff, I drew from its innate power and stared at the ribbons of energy connecting Bren to me, and an idea formed. Biting my lip, letting the pain focus my will, I teased a little of my gold from his silver. The gold didn’t want to cooperate, but I narrowed my eyes and forced it into compliance. Bit by bit, I moved the strand out, out, toward the solid form of Rol.
My knees started to give. The effort of so many spells when I had been so long without magic, without practice or training…
Grinding my teeth, I refused any negative thoughts. The gold light wavered, then snaked toward Rol, wrapping around his feet.
The moment it touched him, he roused from his motionless state. The arrow he had been firing flew and struck its mark. A small hole opened in the head of one of the harpies. I winced, wanted to shout—but it was too late to take back my actions.
Rol whirled and stared at me. Awe filled his handsome ebony face. He seemed caught between the urge to run to me smiling and the reality of our grave situation.
Without comment, I flicked Acaw’s staff and moved the gold rope of energy away from Rol and snaked it toward the woman beside him. My mother. I needed help, and she was the strongest witch I knew outside of Rol and Bren.
Mother woke much as Rol did. Her gaze flew from the energy to me. “Goddess,” she whispered. “Goddess be praised! Jasmina, I—”
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