Harley Merlin 19: Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere

by Bella Forrest

  Neither of us moved. He simply watched me with a sullen expression on his face. Sad and bitter.

  “Hey! You!” I broke into a run, heading for the riverbank. He didn’t take his eyes off me. The closer I got, the more miserable he appeared. His shoulders were hunched and his red hair was all mussed, as though he’d been running anxious hands through it for hundreds of years. His mouth was set in a grim, melancholy line. Still, he didn’t answer. Had he forgotten how to speak? I supposed that could happen, if he’d been here long enough with no one to talk to. Or, worse still, perhaps he thought I was a figment of his imagination, so there was no use talking to me. I knew I’d go bonkers if I was trapped here alone.

  Coming to a halt on my side of the river, I waved to him. “Can you hear me? Can you understand me?” He tilted his head, but his mood didn’t improve.

  He didn’t say a word. In fact, the cheeky bastard turned his head away from me.

  “Hey! I’m talking to you!” I glanced down at the river. A bit of Air would launch me clean over this thing. However, when I tried to release my Chaos… nothing happened. A few pathetic sparks sputtered out, nothing more. Puzzled, I tested my invisibility spell instead. Sure enough, the shield of green slid over me. I let it slough away again, not wanting to go through the burning pains for the sake of an experiment.

  Well, that’s weird… and probably not good. Wherever I was, it seemed to have some kind of ability dampener on it. Hexes and spells worked, but not innate powers. Still, I had to cross this freaking water. Even if I had to do it the hard way.

  Sadly, I had no ‘walking on water’ spells up my sleeve. I didn’t love the idea of the water being purple, but it didn’t look too deep. And it was totally clear, revealing every rock and shiny pebble below the surface.

  Keeping my gaze locked on the guy, I clambered into the water. My body braced for the shock of cold wet, but it didn’t come. The stream felt like I’d stepped into the Goldilocks of baths. Not too hot, not too cold. It did, however, have a bit of a current. I used my hands like paddles to help me cross.

  I was halfway—a few more steps and I’d be there. The other side of the water. That’s where I’ll find answers. I slipped on a smooth stone on the riverbed, and as I regained my footing, I saw the man whisper something. The precise words were lost over the babbling rush of the water.

  I thought I’d try again. “Hello?”

  He turned his back on me and walked back toward the white-leafed tree behind him.

  “Hey! Would you just… wait!” I swallowed the despair in my voice. “I need to—”

  My words died on my lips as I noticed something else coming toward me at breakneck speed: all of the glowing lights that had been hovering around, minding their own business… Well, they weren’t minding their own business anymore. Whatever that man had whispered, these orbs had heard. And now, they were coming for me. Fifty or more of them, rocketing through the air.

  Panic set in. Scooping my hands through the water as fast as possible, I struggled to cross the riverbed. But I was still at the center, where the current was strongest. Leaning forward, I forced my thighs to power through. If that guy thought he could send a horde of… aggressive lights after me and not get an earful, he was sorely mistaken.

  I ran through the water, keeping my eyes fixed on sweet, dry ground. After clawing with all my might to haul my body out, I collapsed onto the crunchy grass… just as the orbs descended. They spiraled around me, blocking my view of the tree and the man. I turned this way and that, looking for an escape, but they only whizzed faster and faster, overwhelming my senses until all I saw was bright, blinding light.

  And then, I saw nothing at all.

  Twenty-Six

  Persie

  Landing on my butt with an unexpected thud that ricocheted up my spine, I reached the end of the fireman’s pole. A soft, gauzy light made the eerie darkness down here marginally less terrifying. At first, I thought it was coming from the pixies, or that the Wisps had come back. But then, I saw it—the faint outline of a doorway, hovering just above solid ground—four glowing lines that formed a rectangle.

  Nathan reached down and grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’ll have a nasty bruise, but it’ll heal.”

  I observed the doorway, taking it in. There wasn’t a handle or solid wood or… anything. Just a glowing outline.

  Nathan nodded. “Same here.” Like me, he was staring at the rectangle. “I think we found it.”

  “But how do we get in?” I stepped toward it, half-expecting it to open in welcome. But nothing happened. Without the Wisps leading us, maybe we weren’t allowed to enter. And that wouldn’t do at all, not with Genie on the other side.

  If she’s still alive… My heart clenched and my breath hitched. The Wisps led souls off the beaten path for the sake of adding more spirits to their guiding legions. What if I was already too late? What if she’d turned into a shadowy soul, wielding a candle to lead more people astray? Perhaps, now that the door had been opened again, their deadly cycle had been triggered. There was no way of knowing.

  I looked at Nathan in desperation. “Can you get us through? Did your father have any spells in his Grimoire that could work for this? Otherwise, we’re going to have to let the Wisps hypnotize us again, and that’s not going to end well. We need to get in without our brains being mush.”

  He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses, his mouth twisting in a thoughtful grimace. “There might be something I can use, but it’s not from my father’s Grimoire. I may be wrong, but the Wisps might be the only ones who can go in and out without any trouble, if this is their domain. There’s an ancient manuscript in the Theorem Complex that might have what I need, but it’d be a huge risk to go up there and try to find it. We’ve already put Charlotte on the warpath, and there will undoubtedly be hunters searching the libraries. Also, I’m not sure how good I’ll be at shimmying up a pole.”

  No, no, no, no, no! I refused to accept that we’d fallen at the last hurdle, so close to finding Genie. Fortunately, I still had one option left—a dangerous mission for my pixie friends. They’d already shown how skilled they could be with camouflage, but there would be no assurances that they wouldn’t be caught, especially with hunters on the prowl. Still, if I could prove they weren’t responsible by getting everyone back, then maybe it would only be a temporary sentence for any captured critters.

  I looked at Boudicca, still perched on my shoulder. “I need you to do something for me, but I’m going to need all of you. Can you gather the others?”

  Boudicca eyed me warily for a few seconds, but she must’ve seen the despair in my eyes, because a moment later she hopped off my shoulder and landed on the floor. Squeaking sternly, she beckoned for the other pixies to join her on the ground. They obeyed immediately, abandoning Nathan for their rightful leader. Gesticulating furiously, she looked around at her brethren. And then, wordlessly, they gave a collective nod of understanding.

  “What are they doing?” Nathan whispered, in awe of the creatures.

  I watched them hopefully. “I think they’re… gathering their forces.”

  In unison, the pixies lifted their arms and started to step side-to-side, their cuttlefish dots pulsing in an identical rhythm, rotating through the whole rainbow of colors. They moved their arms up and down, keeping the same side-step rhythm, and began to chant something ancient and mesmerizing, sending a message through the Institute to the remaining pixies-in-hiding. I felt it reaching out, my monster sense tingling, letting me know the purpose in their sounds and movements.

  “They have rituals, they communicate, they show compassion.” Nathan adjusted his spectacles, peering closer. Even I knew this was special, and I didn’t know nearly as much about monsters. “How can anyone suggest that they aren’t sentient beings with souls and conscious thought?”

  I nodded. “I’m right in that boat with you.”

  Within minutes, all the pixies from my Purge
fluttered down to the bottom of the sphere on dragonfly wings, greeting their fellow creatures with hugs and mischievous slaps on the back. A chubbier pixie with three tiny feathers sticking out of his mossy hair dove into a display of chirps and squeaks, pretending to be, from what I could tell, a hunter trying to chase him. He leapt over imaginary obstacles and stuck out his tongue, waggling his behind at the make-believe hunter before puffing out his chest proudly.

  Boudicca smacked him on the back of the head to get him to shut up, and he immediately quieted. Now that she had the floor to herself, she spoke to the newcomers in her punctuated chirps, which I’d come to appreciate the sound of. They stared at Nathan and me with bewildered eyes, as if to say: “But aren’t these guys the enemy?” As Boudicca explained, though, they began “oohing” and “ahhing.”

  When that was done, she turned to me with a look of “so, now that I’ve got everyone here, would you mind explaining why?”

  I knelt, as it seemed like the polite thing to do, and the pixie army looked back at me solemnly. “There’s a book that we need from the main library, and we’d like you to retrieve it. It’s a risky mission, and there’s a chance that some of you will get caught, but we need that book to clear your names of wrongdoing.” I nodded to the doorway. “Hopefully, it’ll help us get inside there.”

  There was a roar of outrage and general dissent from the gathered group, and some disdainful stares were cast in our direction. Some pointed at me, shaking their heads and tiny fists. I was asking a lot, and I didn’t want any of the pixies to end up in a glass orb or dead under Victoria’s code red order, but this was the only way we could get through the doorway. It was all in the pixies’ hands.

  Boudicca folded her arms across her chest and marched back and forth in front of me, visibly contemplating the dire situation. As any wartime general knew, there came a time when sacrifices had to be made and dangers had to be faced. She unleashed a massive sigh before whirling to face the others—now a forty-strong horde. She pointed at me and chirped, like a very stern sparrow telling off her pesky offspring. The other pixies grumbled their displeasure, and Boudicca took her chirping up a notch, her cuttlefish spots turning red as her hands waggled furiously. My monster sense suggested she wasn’t peeved at me, which was nice. Gradually, the dissent subsided, and the pixies gave a stadium wave of reluctant nods. Boudicca was the queen bee, after all, and whatever she decided, the hive was expected to follow.

  “Is that a yes?” I looked to Boudicca.

  She grinned with her needle-sharp teeth and gave a prideful nod.

  “It’s on the third level, on the right-hand side of the library, as you enter. It’ll be in a section marked ‘Rare Manuscripts,’” Nathan said, kneeling beside me. “There should be a Kelpie carved into the wooden post just next to it. It’ll be a few books to the left of the Kelpie. It’s called A Complete History of Wisps and Legends.”

  I cast him an intrigued side-eye. “Have you memorized the place?”

  “It’s part of the job.” He smiled back, proud.

  Boudicca let out a high-pitched war cry, shooting her arms upward like a real queen ordering her army into battle. As one, the pixies spread their colorful wings, fluttering them with the speed of hummingbirds as they ascended and disappeared into the darkness above. Boudicca was the last to leave, leaping into the air and winging her way toward me, for a brief moment. Flying right up to my face, she leaned in and planted a tiny kiss on my forehead, cackling to herself as she spun around and ascended to catch up with her motley crew.

  As I watched her go, silently wishing them luck. I felt a little lonely, like I’d lost another friend to this Wisp calamity. I guessed the mini-kiss had been her way of saying ‘au revoir’—goodbye, until we meet again. I just hoped the reunion wouldn’t be too far away.

  “Do you think they’ll come back?” I whispered to Nathan. We were alone, with no way to get back to the walkway unless we wanted to clamber back up as though we were on some military assault course. Well, not unless Nathan had a trick up his sleeve for that.

  Nathan smiled strangely, as if he knew something I didn’t. “I think they will.”

  “What makes you say that? If I were them, I’d amscray.” I hated to admit it, but it was true.

  “They like you, that’s why. You brought them back to life. Gratitude creates a very strong bond,” he replied. “It’s similar to resurrection, in a way. Necromancers have had their share of good and bad eggs throughout their history, but those who used it for good—to prevent tragedy… Well, they tend to be bonded for life with those they saved. You gave that to the pixies and, what’s more, they know you respect them.”

  I thought about Astrid, back at the SDC. Her father, Alton Waterhouse, had been a Necromancer, and he’d used his abilities more than once to save the life of his daughter. Purging pixies didn’t feel quite as emotionally loaded as that—it wasn’t a split-second, life-or-death decision that I’d consciously made. But it was becoming more life or death thanks to Victoria’s code red, lethal force order. In essence, they wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me, and I was so glad they were.

  I laughed awkwardly. “I can’t help it. They won me over.”

  “Monsters do that, if you take the time to get to know them.” Nathan sighed. “That’s why it’s always so hard to let them go when the message comes that they need exporting to the Bestiary.”

  I released a breath, realizing I’d been holding it in. Nathan was saying things that I hadn’t dared to, and it felt validating to have a kindred spirit in this place. “How do you stand it?”

  Nathan frowned, as though the question had thrown him. “I suppose… because I have to. At least by being with them, I have some control over their care, and I can learn more about each one.” He lowered his gaze to the floor. “Besides, if it wasn’t me, it might be someone who doesn’t care at all.”

  We stood in silence, both of us engrossed in our thoughts as we waited for the pixies to return with the book. I still wasn’t convinced they’d come back, but I had to hope that their desire to be exonerated was stronger than their desire to escape. Nathan’s words had perplexed and intrigued me. Did the pixies really like me, or was he just blowing sunshine at me? Truthfully, my heart had developed a soft spot for them, too, despite their mischievousness.

  Some twenty minutes later, a faint buzzing sound drew my gaze upward. The squadron of pixies descended in formation, a small cluster of them carrying Nathan’s book. I tried to count the pixies, but I had no idea how many I’d actually Purged in the first place.

  “Is everyone here?” I asked Boudicca as she made a grand entrance on my shoulder, flourishing her beautiful wings.

  She beamed and pretended to count everyone off on her tiny fingers before shaking a triumphant fist in the air. I guessed that meant they were all present and accounted for, and my lungs took an easier breath. None had been captured during the mission, and they sure looked smug about it.

  Grinning through her pin-sharp teeth, she swept a hand toward the book: ta-da. My eyes sought it out eagerly, only for my hopes to deflate as I realized what they’d brought: The Ladybird Book of Irish Myths and Legends. A kids’ book, more pictures than words, and definitely not what I’d asked for.

  To make matters worse, the splinter cell who’d carried it was squabbling over who got to bring it to me. As each clawed for a corner, the book flew open to reveal a painstakingly detailed illustration of a leprechaun sitting under a dock leaf, dressed in green with ginger hair and a pipe in his mouth. As the rabble battled over the book and one of the pixies seized the corner of the page and pulled, the illustrated leprechaun ripped right in two. The pixies fought over the remaining pages, pulling the paper apart.

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as they scampered toward me with eager faces, each of them brandishing an armful of shredded pages like it was the best gift in the world.

  “This isn’t the right book,” I muttered apologetically, and the pixies looked cres
tfallen. “And books aren’t all that helpful if you tear them up, just FYI.”

  They’d done their best, book-mutilation aside, but the language barrier was proving difficult to overcome. The pixies were wild, despite my unique connection with them.

  Nathan huffed out a sigh. “Without going with them myself, I don’t see how we’re going to get this book.” He brushed a hand through his hair, and a throng of she-pixies swooned. Boudicca glared at them, as though she’d already staked a claim. “Although, I’m somewhat glad they didn’t bring the right one, otherwise I’d be looking at the pieces of a rare manuscript right now.”

  “Then we need to come up with another game plan, and we need to do it—”

  I was interrupted by a sudden, blinding pain that cut through my skull like a white-hot blade, severing the sentence before I could finish. My knees buckled and I toppled forward, unable to move a single muscle to break my fall. The pixies shrieked and swarmed, trying to catch me, and the ground rushed up to meet my face. A moment before I hit the deck, the lights went out in my world, and everything disappeared into darkness.

  Twenty-Seven

  Persie

  I opened my eyes to nothing at all, a dull throb pinballing back and forth between my temples. My cheek rested on something hard and cold and smooth, presumably the floor where I’d fallen flat on my face at the bottom of the sphere.

  Did something hit me? I struggled to recall what had happened. I remembered vague panic about the book, and then blackness. I squinted into the gloom, confused, trying to find Nathan and the pixies. They had to be nearby. They wouldn’t have just left me alone, unless… unless the Wisps had come back and taken Nathan. Still, that didn’t explain why Boudicca and the rest of the pixies would’ve left me. They’d had a chance to run away, and they hadn’t. Had I been out for hours? Days?