Move.” I sit atop my steed Champion, reins clenched in one hand and my sword’s hilt fisted in the other. I press my blade’s tip into Gage’s back, nudging him forward. It’s been this way an entire day, and I’ve had about enough of his dithering.
But Gage continues through the brush with the same apathetic pace as usual. It’s a wonder he can even walk. The Physic on staff at the castle did what he could, but Gage’s wound was infected, and without the healing touch of a Physic, or my Ever blood, Gage should not have survived.
Suspicion escalates. Perhaps this Fairy Queen Isabeau spoke of does exist. And if so, has she granted Gage a wish? Enhanced healing of some sort?
He jerks against the rope binding his wrists. “Perhaps if you didn’t insist on treating me like a slave, I’d be able to take you to our destination in a timelier manner.”
I poke his back again. Champion whinnies. “I seem to remember you doing the same thing to Eliyana during our journey to Wichgreen Village.”
He glances back at me and leers. “And I seem to remember you supporting that decision. In fact, wasn’t it Kyaphus who stood against it?” One eyebrow arcs.
I grunt under my breath. My hands clench the reins and hilt tighter.
Gage’s upper lip curls. “Thought so,” he says before facing forward again.
Shame falls over me like an axed tree as I shift in the saddle. I’ve made mistakes, yes. Too many to count. Too many to make up for, if I’m being honest. But I’m right for her. She needs me. Kyaphus may have won the battle for her heart.
But the war’s victory belongs to me.
“Here we are.” Gage stops.
I sheathe my sword and dismount. Then I slap Champion’s rear, and he trots off in search of water and sustenance. No need to tether him to a tree. He always returns when I need him.
Taking my spot beside Gage, I place a firm hand on his shoulder to assure him a sleeping weapon does not mean I’m going soft. Pireem Mountain stands before us, five times the height of New York’s Empire State Building. Maples a brownstone deep create a ring around the mountain’s base. High above, jagged rocks and narrow paths reside, but legend says a treasure awaits at the top for any man brave enough to venture there.
I’ve not met any such man. I do know this is the only place in all the Second where the Oden Lily grows—a rare red flower and the key ingredient in the painkiller Illusoden. What other secrets might Pireem hold?
I widen my stance, digging my boots into the sandy earth. “This is where Isabeau’s been hiding? The Guardians searched here. They uncovered nothing.”
“Because they didn’t investigate enough.” With a slanting glance he adds, “Perhaps you need a new Commander. Your men are slacking.” Bitterness coats his words, and I have to wonder if he misses being a Guardian. He was one of the best. A shame his talent went to waste.
“Where to then?”
“The Mines.”
Maple Mine entrances are stationed every fifty feet or so around the mountain’s perimeter. Thorny brambles block the way to the nearest one, forcing me to hack at them with my sword. Every swoosh and slice dulls the blade, and I make note to sharpen it at the earliest opportunity. When the path to the entrance is wide enough, I gesture for Gage to go ahead.
Silence settles the deeper we journey. The tunnel slopes downward, but even so the air is breathable due to the shafts above. Once we’re well within the mine, the outside light a pin in the distance behind us, my eyes begin to adjust. On either side of us the ends of tree trunks and roots border the walls. The Mine Fairies are busy at work, extracting maple syrup from each tree. The illumination provided by their fluttering wings leaves no need to draw a flashlight.
As Gage continues on, I remain aware of our surroundings and the directions we take. Right, left, left, left, right. The Mines are set up as a grid, not too far removed from the subway system of New York. It makes things easier, at least. A grid, I can navigate. Lines and squares, corners and angles. It’s El I’m having trouble with these days. She’s unpredictable, a scribbled mess with no starting point and no end.
Hour by hour the gap between us widens, and not just physically. It’s as if the longer we’re apart, the greater the distance grows. Is she with my brother now? What will he say? The more time they spend together, the more I become the bad guy in all of this. But in the end it changes nothing. According to Rafaj, one sip of the Unbinding Elixir will reverse everything.
Let’s hope he’s not wrong.
It wasn’t too long ago we traveled through the southernmost mines on our return to Haven Island. I suppose I should’ve noticed the warning signs then. If anyone is to blame for the closeness El and Kyaphus share, it’s me. I pushed him on her, insisted he take on the role as her Guardian. I never dreamed they’d fall for one another. Then again, she hasn’t truly fallen for him. Her heart is confused. Misled.
I must make this right.
We take another right.
Gage freezes. I halt beside him, fingers twiddling over my weapon’s hilt. “A dead end?” Frustration brews. “I thought you knew your way.”
“Tell me, are your men so dimwitted they wouldn’t think to check for façades?” He snorts and then walks forward, through the mine wall, disappearing from view.
I scratch the back of my head. Exhale. Of course they checked, but they have a full Reflection to cover. The Guardians are running on little sleep, working in harsh weather with only the rations on their backs to sustain them when they’re in the wilderness. Perhaps I need to have a word with Makai about thoroughness. The Amulet Calling remains in full force, it seems. We need to make every effort to do our best as we move forward, and that includes better reconnaissance.
On the wall’s opposite side, light blinds me and I am forced to shade my eyes until they, once again, adjust. After a few blinks I scan the scene. Hundreds of Mine Fairies bob in the air, their natural light flickering on and off and off and on, making them appear and disappear again. The sight stirs something in the back of my brain, but I ignore it. Just ahead lies a crystal-clear pool and at the pool’s center a maple tree, the leaves in vibrant hues of pink, orange, and green.
I tread with care, craning my neck. A vertical tunnel above the tree goes on for miles. We must be in the mountain’s core. I’ve heard stories of Fairy Fountains. They’re said to be Thresholds, though I’ve no idea where this one might lead.
And if the Fairy Fountains are real, what else, or who else, might be?
I skirt the pool to find Gage standing on the other side. A beautiful woman with white-blonde hair and porcelain skin unties his restraints. She wears an airy gown the shade of onyx. When she turns toward me her pleasant smile does nothing to mask the menacing intent behind her eyes. “Why, Joshua David. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever grace me with your presence.”
I stop a few paces away, keeping my weapon hand ready. “I have come to make a trade, Isabeau. The life of your servant”—I jerk my chin toward Gage—“for one of your objects.”
“I’m not her servant. We’re equals.” Gage growls the rebuttal, but the way he stands behind Isabeau, rather than beside her, lets on he’s either inferior or afraid.
“Hush now, Jonathan.” When she moves it’s like a dance, graceful, yes, but more akin to a tiger on the prowl. “And I’d much rather you refer to them as artifacts, David. Each one took great effort to acquire, you see.” She lifts two fingers, positioning them like a perch.
“Fine then.” My neck pulses. Enough with the niceties.
“What is it you seek?” A Fairy flits over and lands on her fingers.
“A bottle made of mirrorglass.”
“You get right to the point, don’t you? That is a rare item indeed.” She strokes the Fairy’s wings. The Fairy titters. “As providence would have it, I do possess such an item. However, it comes at a price. Are you willing to pay?” She lifts the Fairy to her lips as if she might kiss it, but instead she snaps her mouth over the Fairy and swallows it whole.
I try to hide my revulsion. If I wasn’t aware Isabeau is a monster, I most certainly would be now. “What more do you want? I’ve delivered your henchman.”
“Three gifts.” She dabs the corners of her mouth with the hem of her sleeve. “I have Jonathan returned, yes. This fulfills gift number one. For your second offering, I desire something only you are able to provide.”
Should’ve known. My hands fist. “How much?”
“Only a small vial’s worth.”
“Done.” My Ever blood is useless at the moment anyway, but she doesn’t need to know this. Still, when did my life turn into one of trades and barters? My days are comprised of running from one place to another, extracting information. At least with Nathaniel I wasn’t required to pay a price, and all Rafaj wanted was my truth. But not everyone is so generous.
Isabeau snaps her fingers, and in an instant Gage exits through a wall of vines behind her. When he returns he brandishes a small syringe.
Not her servant, my sword. Servant is exactly what he is.
Teeth and muscles clenched, I offer my arm and he draws my blood. He then injects it into a small bottle, corks it, and shuffles away once more.
“Excellent.” Isabeau’s eyes sparkle. “Now, for your third and final contribution.”
I bristle. “I’ve given you your man and my blood.” Not that it will do her much good. “What else could you possibly want?”
“Only one thing more.” She lifts her dress and dips a toe in the pool.
This ought to be good. I nod. “Go on.”
“You will be headed to the Fourth, where my dear old friend Countess Ambrose resides. She has something of mine. Something I would like returned. She will not part with it easily, I am sure, so you will have to steal it.”
My mouth turns down. Steal? I suppose I’ve proven there is nothing I won’t do for El, and that includes employing unconventional methods. “What is it?”
“A rose.”
“You want me to steal . . . ? I am afraid I don’t follow.”
“A rose,” she repeats. “It is mine and I want it back.”
I shrug. Can’t be too difficult to acquire, though my gut tells me there’s more to this “rose” than will meet the eye. Still, what’s the harm? “Agreed.”
“Superb.” She wades into the water, dress pooling around her like black tar. Then she vanishes, just as she did at the coronation, leaving the dress floating in her wake.
Where did she—?
“Follow me,” a tinkling voice says.
I look down. There, tiptoeing on the water before me, is the most beautiful Fairy I’ve ever beheld. She wears a crown laced with jewels, and her wings glow a brilliant shade of red. She dives and I go in after her.
So this is her third Mask form. This is how she seemed to disappear at the coronation. How the supposedly invisible attackers—her servants, the Mine Fairies—shot at the guests out of sight. No wonder Isabeau expends all her efforts to keep it a secret.
Isabeau isn’t a Mask, the Calling is simply her cover. A way to deter everyone from knowing her true identity.
The Fairy Queen.