by Martha Carr
Corian stood firmly against the verbal assault and lifted his chin. “You think I’m choosing whether or not to betray you?”
“Well, I’ll know when you do. Try to go behind my back again, vae shra’ni, and neither of you will make it out of this alive.”
“Stop blowing this out of proportion, L’zar.” Maleshi stepped toward him and ignored Corian’s warning glance. “Corian chooses his vow to you over everything else, time and time again.”
“You’re trying to undermine me. Both of you!” L’zar’s wild eyes rolled furiously in his head, and he swiped at the empty air in front of him as if trying to clear away a swarm of gnats. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?”
“Stop.” Corian tilted his head in warning. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
The breath went out of L’zar all at once as he gazed at the thick magic in the air only he could see. “I am unraveling.”
“L’zar…”
The drow burst into enhanced speed and knocked Corian against the side of the mountain as he raced down the path. Maleshi staggered against the edge of the switchback, her black hair whipping around her head as the blur of gray and white zipped from side to side and finally darted to the valley floor before disappearing into a grove of white-trunked trees on the north side of Nor’ieth. Two dozen small black birds squawked and took off from their perches in panicked flight. The entire valley echoed with L’zar’s ragged, curdled scream of rage, and then there was nothing.
Corian sagged against the side of the mountain, dirt and dislodged stones raining down around him. “I knew it.”
“Don’t do that.” Maleshi brushed her hair from her face and fixed him with a gentle gaze. “None of this is your fault.”
“Not now. But I left him to his own mind for far too long.” Dropping his head back against the mountainside, Corian stared at the sky. “I should have questioned him sooner. Long before he started questioning everything else.”
“He’s overwhelmed, ma gairín.” Maleshi moved slowly toward him, stopped, and offered her hand. “Being here, of all places, isn’t helping his frame of mind, either. You know that.”
“Just one layer on top of the next, huh?” He chuckled wryly when she nodded, then finally grasped her hand and let her pull him to his feet. “I don’t know what world he was made to inhabit, Maleshi. But it wasn’t this one.”
“Or maybe this world wasn’t meant to contain him. Hm?” She gave him a wan smile and flicked a patch of dirt off his shoulder. “Once we leave this plane, he’ll clear his head. You’ll guide him like you always have, and we’ll finish this. Whatever happens after that won’t matter nearly as much as this, will it?”
“He wasn’t wrong. That he’s unraveling. I can’t read the Weave, but I don’t have to. I know he shouldn’t have come back here. If we’re not quick enough, we’ll lose him entirely, and making the crossing Earthside again won’t do a thing to help.”
Maleshi replied, “Then I suggest we let the Aranél at the top of this mountain do what she came here to do. We’ll guide her too. And judging by the surprising intensity of L’zar’s most recent outburst, I’m willing to bet he’ll write this whole thing off as a bad dream.”
“He won’t wake up from a psychotic break. Not one caused by an overload of magic that doesn’t belong to him.”
“It does belong to him. He’s made it part of him, and no matter what the Sorren Gán might want from L’zar after this, there’s no pulling them apart. Cheyenne wouldn’t have half the power she does if that weren’t the case.” The general turned to head down the path. “I’m finished with hiking for today, vae shra’ni. Come find me when you’re ready to talk about something else.”
He snorted. “Like what?”
“Anything but L’zar and his madness.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Ember stared at the white stone buildings rising around her, trying to ignore the thick taste of vinegar filling her mouth. Not the flavor I would’ve paired with more magic than exists in all of Richmond.
The crawler moved slowly beneath her as her guiding hand swiped across the control panel. The machine’s metal legs had only cracked into a building’s outer wall once, and when she’d recovered from the startling sound, she forced herself to pay much closer attention to where she was going and how much room the bulky contraption needed.
A strange, lilting tune filtered through the buildings in front of her. Multiple voices rose at once in a wordless song. Ember slowed the crawler to a stop and cocked her head. That’s the weirdest song I’ve ever heard. Like someone gave a saxophone to a whale.
White light moved around the corner of the closest building before fading away to reveal one of the olforím standing calmly in front of the fae girl. Ember swallowed. “Hello.”
The woman dipped her bald head and smiled, her hands clasped in front of her between the draping sleeves of her sheer, glowing robe. “We can offer you aid with your difficulty, fae. If that is what you wish.”
“My difficulty, huh?” Ember chuckled and glanced around the otherwise empty grouping of buildings. “Which one?”
“The root.” The olforím woman gestured toward her with a wide sweep of her arm. “We can help you restore it.”
That didn’t narrow it down. Maybe she meant all of me. Ember cleared her throat. “The root as in my magic?”
“Yes.”
“You can help me get my magic back. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
A barking laugh escaped the fae girl, and she clapped a hand over her mouth before pulling herself together. “No way.”
“Do you accept?”
“Yeah, I accept!” Ember grinned and spread her arms. “What do I have to do?”
“Follow us.” The woman turned and walked fluidly back through the buildings toward the side of the valley filled with temples.
“Just follow. Yep. I can do that.” Her fingers trembled in excitement, and she swiped the wrong command on the crawler’s control panel twice, nearly throwing herself from the machine in the process before she sent the eight-legged O’gúleesh wheelchair scrabbling after the olforím.
When they emerged from the cluster of white stone buildings, Cazerel turned away from his conversation with his warriors and raised a hand. “Healer. Are you enjoying Nor’ieth?”
“Ask me when I come back, Chief.” Ember waved at him and quickly looked for the olforím woman leading her across the valley. “But I have a feeling the answer’s gonna be hell, yes.”
“I’ll come with you.” Cazerel handed the drinking gourd to one of his warriors and stepped after the crawler.
“I got it, Cazerel.” Ember tossed her hand in the air and didn’t dare look back at him. This feels like a one-shot deal. Don’t wanna screw it up by getting lost. “Don’t need a bodyguard against my own magic, thanks.”
The raug chief stopped and blinked at her in surprise.
“Let it go this once, huh, Zokrí?” Lumil took a crunching bite of a round green fruit that sprayed purple juice and red light as she chewed. “The fae girl’s stronger than she looks. And how bad could it be? I mean, really. We’re in Nor’ieth surrounded by olforím. None of this is supposed to exist. Doesn’t leave a lotta room for foul play, know what I’m sayin’?”
“No.” Cazerel blinked again and stared after Ember and the crawler, lurching across the valley. “I do not.”
“Well, trust me. She’s fine.” Lumil bit into the fruit again, then stared at it and shook her head. “Man, these things are delicious. You try one yet? No? Well, damn, Chief. Forget the fae and grab yourself one of these. I’m tellin’ ya, they don’t grow stuff like this anywhere but here, I guess.” Munching happily, the goblin woman stalked away to join Byrd in front of a huge basket of food grown in Nor’ieth’s soil.
Cazerel scratched his head, grunted, and rejoined his warriors.
* * *
Ember’s heartbeat pounded in her head as magic thi
ckened around her. All this power in one place? If this doesn’t help me at least a little, I don’t know what will.
The olforím woman led her through different temples scattered across the valley, where the sounds of the old-school village—the singing, conversation, and raug laughter—were almost inaudible. Birds twittered in the trees lining the outside of the valley, and then the woman stopped and faced the fae girl.
“Your contraption must remain.”
“Oh. You know what?” Ember slapped the sides of the crawler and spread her arms. “I’m done with the contraption anyway. So as soon as I figure how to get out of it. Whoa.”
White light engulfed her. The olforím woman smiled gently as she flicked her fingers away from the crawler, and Ember rose slowly from the seat depression before floating through the air toward the temple behind her guide.
“Okay. Kinda silly of me to think I’m the only one who can levitate myself.” Ember tried to keep her arms relatively still, but hovering five feet above the ground made her flap her arms awkwardly as if that would keep her from falling. You’re making an ass of yourself, Em. If she can move you around and be graceful about it, you can take it gracefully and act like you know what you’re doing. You’re a fae, for chrissakes.
So she focused on her thin shadow creeping across the white floor of the temple. The olforím woman lowered her gently to the cool stone, and Ember cleared her throat. “Thanks. That was helpful.”
The tall, thin white-glowing magical stepped in front of the fae girl and dipped her head, clasping her three-fingered hands in front of herself again. “When you find what is already yours, take it.”
“Okay. What am I looking for, exactly?” Ember glanced around the empty temple and raised an eyebrow. “Because believe me, I’ve already tried everything I could think of to…and she’s walking away. Got it.”
Ember shifted her hips and grabbed first one shin, then the other to pull them toward her in something resembling a cross-legged position. So, I’ll sit here and look for what’s already mine. Excellent plan. If I had any idea what that was.
A soft rustling sound on her right made her look over her shoulder. “Oh, hey. If you came to watch the fae show, I don’t think there’s… Wow. What is that?”
Two other olforím floated across the temple floor toward her, smiling and gazing at her with creepy light-blue eyes that never blinked. One of them held a silver pitcher and a small silver cup, and the other carried a small basket of O’gúleesh produce.
Ember glanced at the hems of their robes and pressed her lips together. They have to be floating like I used to. I can’t see their feet, but those are definitely shadows.
“For you.” A woman with a thin, intricate tattoo snaking up the side of her neck in faint violet ink knelt in front of the fae girl and set both pitcher and cup on the temple floor.
“Thanks.” Ember stared at the magical’s luminous eyes and couldn’t think of anything else to say. When she stood, her compatriot knelt in front of Ember as well and set the basket beside the pitcher. He dipped his head and gave her a gentle, knowing smile before rising again in one fluid motion. “This is a lot of food. Anyone wanna join me?”
“We must decline.” The tattooed olforím pressed her fingertips together and pointed them first at her own chest, then at Ember’s. “To aid you in your rediscovery. Take all the time you need.”
“Okay. I’m still a little fuzzy on the details.” Ember sighed, her shoulders sagging as she watched the two olforím float away without a word and disappear around a thick pillar supporting a neighboring temple. “It’s easy to walk away from a fae who can’t run after you, isn’t it?”
Shaking her head, she looked down at the pitcher and the basket of brightly colored O’gúleesh vegetables. At least I hope they’re vegetables. Or fruit. As long as it doesn’t have eyes or move around on its own.
Ember eyed the basket warily. “So far, so good, but I’m not even hungry.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it slowly out again. “Find what’s already mine. I’m looking for my own magic. In a temple. And apparently, that doesn’t qualify me for a trip to the mental ward.”
When she opened her eyes again, she studied every carved surface of the pillars in front of her, then focused her attention on the perfectly smooth white stone floor. Not gonna find it in a chunk of rock. I think.
A roaring bellow of rage burst from the other side of the valley, echoing through the stone temples and within the high natural walls around Nor’ieth. Ember scrunched her nose and looked over her left shoulder toward the sound. A flock of birds darted out of a grove of trees, nothing more than tiny specks from this far away. I’ve never heard him scream, but I’d bet the rest of my magic that was L’zar.
She snorted, and the snort grew into a chuckle of disbelief. “This whole thing is ridiculous. This place. This food. Finding the root. And now a screaming drow.”
Laughing, Ember leaned forward to sift through the produce in the basket and pulled out a pale-blue something that looked more like an apple than anything else. She sniffed it twice, tentatively poked it with the tip of her tongue, and lowered it to watch for movement. No eyes. Tastes like maple syrup, but that’s not the worst thing.
The blue fruit’s skin burst and sent cold juice dribbling down her chin when she took a bite. Humming, Ember chewed and gazed around the temple. Her stomach growled fiercely, and she gave it a gentle pat before swallowing her mouthful. Guess I was wrong.
Two minutes later, she’d eaten the entire blue maple-apple and had already gone through half a sprig of small berries that tasted like black licorice. Sucking the gooey fruit out of her teeth, she filled the cup from the silver pitcher.
She downed the whole thing and set it gently on the stone beside her. “Hey. These guys know how to set up a guest. Clean water. Privacy. Little bit of dancing fruit.”
Ember stopped and blinked at the sprig of black berries in her hand. She lifted it toward her face and squinted. The berries dangling at the bottom swung back and forth, glowing intermittently like flashing Christmas lights. “No.”
She swung the berries toward the basket and stopped when the light-colored woven material shrank and grew. Blinking slowly, Ember dropped the berries on the top of the produce pile, and beaded strands of bright-yellow light puffed out of the basket like dust. The lights rose steadily into the air, blinking and bobbing around the girl’s head before spreading out through the temple.
“Like flies. Firefruit. Flying fruit fire.” Ember burst out laughing, and she couldn’t stop it even when she clapped both hands over her mouth. Holy shit. Did they drug me?
She lunged toward the pitcher and almost knocked it over, temporarily distracted by her outstretched fingers flapping in front of her like bird’s wings. I’m losing it.
Her hand wrapped around the handle of the pitcher, and she drew it closer to take another sniff. Her mouth watered, but she set the pitcher aside and blinked at the dancing yellow lights swirling in front of her. Psychedelic fruit. I’m tripping my ass off, and they call that fixing my little difficulty?
With a strangled laugh, Ember rocked backward, gasped, and steadied herself with both hands pressed into the cold white stone. Okay, okay. Don’t freak out, find what’s already mine.
The lights in front of her coalesced into a shape that looked a lot like her. Two pale-violet eyes formed in the center of the blinking lights, then the fae-shaped figure raised one arm and swept it through the dancing lights. Ember’s mouth fell open, and she raised her own arm, which felt like it weighed a million pounds.
As soon as she extended her finger, the dancing lights burst away from the fae-shaped figure. They raced toward Ember’s fingertip and tingled up her arm and across her neck. That’s something.
She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the buzzing tingle of someone’s magic racing across her skin. Her head buzzed too. That’s just the fruit.
With a final bright burst, the yellow dancing lights swirled
faster and faster, first around Ember’s body and then outward until they filled the entire temple. Her vision narrowed, darkening at the corners, and all the color around her dimmed except for one pulsing strand of lights.
No way. When I find what’s already mine.
The single strand of yellow lights that stretched farther away from her than she could see flared brighter the closer her outstretched fingers approached. Then she tapped the thread, and it flashed from yellow to violet. A small gasp escaped her, then Ember pinched the thread of purple light and pulled.
Warm, buzzing energy raced up her arm and bloomed inside her chest, filling every part of her until she thought she’d explode with purple light and fae magic. “Oh, yeah. Ha! It worked!”
She took a shuddering breath and looked down at her arms and chest, pulsing with the purple light. Even her legs, legs she hadn’t moved more than half an inch in weeks, glowed. The blinking purple strands raced up and down her thighs and calves, disappearing beneath her shoes and rippling back up again in an endless circle.
Holy shit. That’s my magic, healing me!
Ember’s mouth went dry as she stared at her legs. Then she felt the buzz warming her unused muscles and laughed. I’m gonna walk again. Jesus, how do I know this?
Her stomach heaved. It’s gonna happen.
She wiped sweat off her forehead and took slow, steady breaths, focusing on her legs. I had no idea I could do this. I can do this, however long it takes.
The fae girl lurched forward and leaned sideways right before she vomited glowing blue fruit skin and half-chewed berries all over the temple floor. Breathing heavily, she waited for the next wave. When it didn’t come, Ember wiped her mouth with the back of a hand and laughed.
“They drugged me into finding my magic. And,” she said, grinning, “I’m totally okay with it.”