Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1) (10 page)

Border curse. Defensive? Breakable? Lost treasure. Act of goodwill. Must be prepared to cross. Pure intent?

I shuffle through the pages and a small note falls out. The handwriting on it is unfamiliar and has a grace to it that is easy on my eyes after pages of Rian’s rough scratches. It reads:
 

Rian Eldinae
Sixteenth Circle Exam
20 Autumnsdawn
Report to studio “Grace” at dawn to begin your testing.
Exam will be both practical and written.
Attended by the High Council
Failure will retest in one year.

I sigh and look down at Rian, who continues to slumber with his head comfortably in my lap. I know he’s been training for his Sixteenth Circle for two years now. He didn’t tell me he was called in for his test. And now he’s spending all of this time researching my problems. I stroke my thumb over the Mage Mark on his jaw. No wonder it’s grown so quickly. He’s pushing himself too far, too fast. The door handle rattles and someone on the other side knocks, startling me.

“I’ll be!” Luca’s muffled voice is barely audible beyond the thick wood. He knocks again.

“Do you have a key?” I call out, trying not to disturb Rian. He turns his head in Luca’s direction, but I shush him and pat his arm and he goes back to snoring softly in my lap. On the other side of the door, keys jingle. The latch clicks and Luca pushes it open.

“What do you mean, locking the door, eh?” His eyes glide from Rian’s slumbering form to my father slumped unconscious against the wall beside the hearth. “Well that’s a puzzler,” he murmurs. “What happened? Looks like a blow of sleep dust or some.” I press my finger to my lips.

“Da wasn’t himself, so Rian made him sleep. And Rian hasn’t slept for days, so I think the spell wore him out.” I whisper. Luca looks from one man to the other and shakes his head.

“Strange goings-on lately. Don’t like it.” he walks over to Da and nudges him gently on the shoulder. I brace myself, but Da doesn’t even stir. “Well, now.” he paces around him, one hand on his hip, the other stroking his own beard thoughtfully as he assesses the situation. Luca is a wiry old bow-legged man who’s as weatherworn as the fisher boats lashed along the cliff side, and just as hearty. That’s why I’m not at all surprised when he stoops, pulls Da up by his arms, hoists him over his shoulder, and carries him to the door. “He’ll be up to bed,” he whispers. “I’d come back for the lad, but it’d probably wake him.” I nod.

“He’s fine here,” I whisper. “Stay with Da, won’t you?” Luca grunts his agreement and lumbers off into the corridor with my father hanging limply over his shoulder. I turn my attention back to the roll of notes. The rest of them have to do with his studies, and I feel strangely like I’m invading his privacy even looking at the first page, though I can’t understand anything they say. I arrange the pages into the order I found them, roll them up, and tuck them back into the tube.

“Can I come back yet?”
Flit’s voice dances in my mind again. I close my eyes and let out a long, slow sigh.

“Are you sure you want to?” I whisper to nothing. “The stinky Mage is here.” I hear a giggle and Flit appears, hovering right above Rian’s brow.
 

“I’m sure. Do you want to play?” she asks, her fluttering wings lifting her to perch on my shoulder. “He’s not so bad when he’s asleep,” she says. I shush her and consider her offer. I definitely have questions I need answers to.

“I do, but we’ll have to be quiet. I don’t want to wake him.”

“Oh!” She hovers out again and digs into one of the pouches at her belt to produce a glittering white powder. Before I can stop her, she sprinkles it directly into his ear, which begins to glow with white sparkles. Rian nuzzles my leg and dozes on.

“What was that?” I ask.

“Muffle powder. My turn!” She does an excited little flip in midair.

“I didn’t mean to start yet—oh, alright.” I roll my eyes.

“Are you going to the ball?” she asks, coming to perch on my shoulder again.

“How did you?—“

“Ah, ah, ah!”

“I think I am, yes.” I say. I wonder if she heard about it somewhere in her travels today, or if she spied the invitation that I left in the kitchen. I decide not to waste a question on it; how she found out isn’t really important to me. Instead, I take some time to think about my first question. I have so much to ask, and I know her game now. Tiny master of misdirection. She crunches in my ear as I try to concentrate, and I turn to see her munching on another sugar cube. That reminds me of Margy’s pitcher, and the diamond hidden inside. I decide to start there.

“A few days ago, I had a dream about a beautiful place. I was there for a long time, so long that I became part of a tree. Then a fairy visited me and a star fell from the sky into my hand. When I woke up, I was still holding it. It’s the diamond in your pitcher in my room. How did that happen?”

“Whoa, you’ve been practicing. Good question. This will be fun! The fairy that you met was a Greeter. She has powerful magic that can be used to cross objects over the edge of our world into yours. So, she gave it to you in your dream so you would have it with you.” She pushes her bangs out of her face with sugar-coated fingers, causing them to stick up erratically. “I heard shouting before. What was your father going on about?”

“He was confused. He thought Rian was my Uncle Gaethon and he was angry about what happened to my mother.” The words he shouted swim in my thoughts but I shake my head to clear them. I’ll ask about that later. “I don’t understand why she gave me the diamond. What is it for?”

“She gave it to you so I could get here.” She does a twirl, sending her ribbons out in a spinning blur, and then flies to the wall where my father had been lying earlier. She looks at the empty space for a moment and then drifts upward to land lightly on the edge of the hearth mantel. She walks along it, weaving through the collection of awards, statues, and trophies on display. “Why was your father confused?” she asks, taking particular interest in a bronze figure of a man just a little taller than she. She links her hand through the crook of his arm and bats her eyes up at him. I chuckle at her flirting and then shake my head.

“I don’t know. Since he came back from the quest, he’s been different. Something happened to him in Kythshire. I was hoping you could tell me why, actually.” Tears sting my eyes. I try to blink them away but it’s too late. “I don’t know if he’ll ever be the same again.” I’ve been holding my emotions back for too long and now that they’ve forced themselves out, I can’t stop it. I shake with a torrent of sobs, but I try to keep them as quiet as I can so Rian can sleep. Flit comes to land on my shoulder.

“You aren’t supposed to cry! It’s a game, it’s meant to be fun.” She pats my cheek with her sticky hand, and I try to calm myself, but it’s too difficult. So much has been weighing on me. I need this release. “It’s your turn to ask a question. You wanted to know about the diamond, right?” I nod. “Well, I’ll give you a good answer if you promise to stop crying. I don’t like it. It makes me sad, too.”

“Okay,” I sniff and wipe my eyes, and make a good effort to settle down.

“There.” She pats my damp face again and then wrinkles her nose and wipes her hand on her skirt. “In my world, we all have different jobs, just like you do here. Only ours don’t involve killing people or animals, or brutally beating anyone, or stealing magic and using it for selfish reasons, or taking things that don’t belong to us, or starting wars, or making fires, or chopping trees, or humiliating each other, or enslaving each other, or hoarding treasure, or making ourselves feel powerful while others around us suffer. You know, like you all do,” she says matter-of-factly. I open my mouth to protest, but she goes on before I can. “My job is called Traveler. That means that I get to go places that other fairies don’t. But I can’t just go on my own, I need help. That’s what the tether is for. Tethers are made by Creators. They can be made of anything.

“One time, my friend Sorwa had a tether made from a leaf! And then a caterpillar ate the leaf and you know what happens to a leaf after a caterpillar eats it, right? It comes out the other end and poor Sorwa tracked to her tether and she was covered in such a mess!” Flit doubles over with laughter. “Oh!” she gasps after a long bout of hysterics that is so infectious that I find myself laughing despite my lingering tears. She smears a tear of her own with her saccharine fingers and goes on.  “Anyway, since then we try to make sure that our tethers aren’t edible. And also it helps to make them valuable so that if someone finds them, they take good care of them.”

“You call it a tether. What does that mean, exactly?” I shift a little. Rian’s head is getting heavy in my lap and my leg is full of pins and needles. I wriggle my toes to get the blood flowing.

“Uh uh, my turn.” She taps her lips and looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Have you ever done magic before?” she asks.

“Once, when I was very young,” I say. “I got a scolding for it, and I haven’t done any since. I don’t really want to, anyway. Now, my question.”

“A tether is an object that helps me focus, so that I can flit to it. I just close my eyes and wish, and then, pop! There I am! I can only do it once while the sun is up and once while the moon is up, though.” I look at her to see if she’s joking with me. It seems impossible that she could travel that way, but she gazes up at me with earnest. She’s completely serious.

“Amazing,” I whisper.

“And before you ask, no, you can’t have a tether, and no I won’t take you with me. And no I won’t wish things for you. So don’t even try.” She smirks and shakes her head, and then chews her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Will you wear my diamond to the ball?” She asks.

“If you want me to,” I say. “Why are you answering so easily today when the last time we played you were so infuriatingly vague?” I ask. Flit giggles.

“Because this time, it’s important for you to know. If anyone was to steal the diamond and I didn’t know it, I could accidentally reveal myself to someone dangerous. So you have to guard it, okay? Don’t leave it rolling around under the bed like before.” I nod in agreement. She looks down at Rian, whose ear is no longer glowing and glittering. “He can hear us now,” she whispers right up to my ear. “Is he really as nice as you say?” I nod and smile.

“He really is,” I whisper. “Do you think you can try to be friends?”

“Maybe if he says sorry, and he really means it. But I’m still not telling him anything.” She floats down close to him and then flits back to my face. “He’s awake!” she squeaks. Then in a twinkle of light, she’s gone.

Rian blinks the sleep from his eyes and looks at me with a lazy smile.

“Hey,” he says, his hazel eyes glinting with the glow of orange embers from the hearth. I feel my heartbeat quicken as my gaze drifts from his eyes to his lips. What is wrong with me lately, I wonder? My emotions are all over the place. I clear my throat self-consciously.

“Hey,” I reply, “feel better?”

“Mmm.” he pushes himself up and scoots so his back is against the chair beside me. I follow his eyes to the spot where my father had been lying, “Did Benen wake up?” he asks.

“No,” I say, “Luca carried him to bed.”

“Ah,” he reaches up and scratches through his hair. “I’m sorry I had to do that.”

“I know...it’s okay. It’s for his protection, too.” I tip my head to the side and rest it on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were testing in two days?”

“I only just found out.”

“But Rian, you’re supposed to have months to prepare for your trial!” My head bobs up, then down with the movement of his shrugging shoulder.

“Mistress Viala feels that I’m ready, she talked the masters into it. She wants me tried and entered into the Sixteenth Circle before the ball,” he says, “She wants me to do an exhibition there.” I pull away and look at him. I’m not sure that I’ve heard him right. The idea of exhibiting one’s magical skill at a princess’s birthday party is unheard of. He meets my eyes and reaches up to gently stroke my cheek. “It’s nothing,” he says, but there is a hint of fear in his eye as he turns his gaze away.

“Why does she want you showing off?” I ask. “Don’t you find it a little strange?”

“She’s trying to convince His Majesty to drop some sanctions on magic.”

“Which sanctions?” I ask. The thought of changing any of the laws that govern magic makes me very uneasy, and I can’t help but find Viala’s timing especially suspicious.

“Mostly the ones which prohibit magic from being taught to the royal family.” Those laws have been in place for generations, ever since the last dynasty fell. They were sanctioned to keep any reigning sovereign from gaining too much power.

“You need to write to Uncle and tell him.” I say. “He needs to know. This isn’t right.”

“He has more important things on his mind.”

“What are you going to do? Are you actually going to go through with it?” I picture him standing in the center of a ballroom filled with royal subjects, showing off, and I push myself angrily to my feet. It goes against everything we’ve ever been taught. Magic requires a certain reverence. It isn’t meant to be flaunted around like some jester’s folly.

“I haven’t gotten that far.” He sighs. “I’m going to focus on passing my trial first. I was hoping we’d be on the road with your father before the ball, but it’s obvious now that that isn’t going to happen. And after what I found out last night, I need an excuse to get into the palace.”

“What do you mean?” I ask as he scoops up his books and his scroll case and spreads them out on the table. We slide onto the bench together and he pulls out the book lists with the signatures and fans them out.

“These are all of the books that were missing the pages that possibly described your affliction.” I’m not surprised when he points to Mistress Viala’s signature on each of them. “She signed them out, and look where she took them.” He points to the section under the heading of ‘location’.

“The palace,” I whisper.

“Someone there is very interested in researching curses. Especially ones that cause a serious aversion to weaponry of any kind.” He taps the page, “So interested, in fact, that whoever it is wanted to keep those pages so that no one else could find out about it.” He slides the lists away and opens a children’s book of fairy tales. He shows me the space where a page has been torn out. “This story is about a group of travelers who were seeking the way into the land of fae. They had heard the tales of riches beyond measure and magic powerful enough to let them live forever and defeat any foe. See here?” He points at a grotesque illustration of a man writhing on the ground and a group of tiny fairies hovering above him, laughing. “He crossed into the land with ill intent, and when he came out, he was afflicted with madness. The next page is torn out.” His eyes meet mine and immediately I think of my father.

“But Da was helping to return the lost treasure,” I say, “He didn’t have ill intent. Why would it affect him this way?” Rian shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” he says. “That’s why I want to get into the palace. To find the torn out pages, and maybe figure out who in the palace is so interested. Then we’ll have answers and maybe even figure out a way to reverse this.”

“But you can’t compromise your integrity that way, Rian! You’ve worked too hard to turn it all into some cheap entertainment act!” Rian shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Some things are more important,” he says. “As an apprentice, I can’t refuse my Mistress, even if she is a substitute. And I need to get into the palace.”

“I’m going, too,” I say, and he starts to protest, but I interrupt. “I got an invitation this morning.”

“Really?” His eyebrows arch up and mischief plays in his eyes. “Are you going to wear a gown?”

“Much to Mouli’s delight,” I say. His grin is so adorably pleased that I can’t help but laugh as my cheeks go red. “What?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He starts to roll the pages up again. “Oh! I almost forgot what I really wanted to show you!” He grabs my hand and pulls me up, through the door to the training square. He takes me by the shoulders and guides me to the center of the square. Then he positions my hands so that I look as though I’m holding an invisible sword. “There, hold them just like that,” he says. “Now, do you trust me?”

“Of course,” I keep my hands still as he steps back from me, his concentration steadily fixed on my hands. He makes a sweeping gesture with his arms and then moves his fingers apart as though he’s writing something in the air. He speaks the strange incantation and I feel something cool and solid materialize in my hands. I tighten my fingers and gasp in wonder at the graceful sword in my grip, formed of ice.

A rush of excitement courses through me as I slice through the air with it. I spin and step and slash in an intricate combination, laughing and crying at the same time. The sword is more perfectly balanced than any I have ever tried. It’s weighted so precisely that it seems like an extension of my own arms. Most importantly, holding it doesn’t make me pass out or lose my breakfast.

“Rian!” I laugh. “It’s unreal!” I spin again and run across to a training dummy. When I slash at the thick canvas, it hisses and steams as a chunk is sliced clean away. I turn to him and grin, and he smiles back. That’s when I see it. The Mage Mark has crept up further on the left side, its inky black line already thick and prominent against his pale skin. My grip loosens and the sword vanishes as it’s released. I cross to him and trace the black line with my finger. His eyes meet mine and I scowl.

“It’s Sixteenth Circle,” he says. “After my test I can cast it without worrying about this.” His hand covers my fingers, and he turns his head and kisses my fingertips softly.

“But you shouldn’t...” I start, but a warm tingle spreads from the gesture all the way to my toes. He moves closer to me and slides my hand to the back of his neck, then moves his own hands down to circle my waist. My breath catches as he leans closer to me. My eyes close slowly. His lips are warm and soft when he presses them to mine. Everything around us falls away, and for one moment there is nothing else in the world except for Rian and me.

“So romantic, now you can kill people!”
Flit’s voice jars me and I jump back and spin around. Rian drops his hands to his side, looking dejected.

“Was it that bad?” he asks. I shake my head.

“No, it was amazing. Flit!” I can hear her giggling, but she doesn’t show herself.

“What?” he looks around, too, but there is no one else in the square.

“The fairy. Her name is Flit. She just said something rude in my ear.”

“Ah, Flit, that’s right.” Rian nods. “I remember.” I reach for his hand and hold it. We’ve held hands countless times before, but this time, after that kiss, it feels very different. Wonderful.

“That reminds me,” I say, looking down. I can’t seem to meet his eyes. “I have a lot to fill you in on.”

“Not really,” he grins. “Last night after you said you were going to tell me everything, I figured it’d be okay to eavesdrop. So I listened through the wall. And just now in the hall, well, I wasn’t really sleeping and...” He taps the ear that had been sprinkled with muffler and then taps his other one. “I have two ears, don’t I?”

“So rude!” Flit pops into view between us and spins to face Rian. “Listening to a private conversation!”

“What about interrupting a first kiss?” Rian rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I’d been working up to that for months, little fairy.”

“Serves you right,” says Flit. “Why not steal your kisses? Your kind steals everything else, don’t they?”

“Stop it, you two,” I groan. I try to set aside the fact that Rian has just admitted he’s had feelings for me for months. Instead, I turn to him with my best attempt at a stern expression, though I’m fairly sure it fails since I can’t stop smiling. “Rian, can you please apologize to Flit for the Revealer?”

“Sorry,” Rian says as he draws me closer, his eyes fixed on mine. He’s going to kiss me again, I know it.

“You call that an apology?” Flit humphs. “It doesn’t count if someone else asks you to do it. And it doesn’t count if you don’t even look at the person you’re apologizing to. No sincerity at all. So typical.”

“How do you make her go away?” His cheek touches mine as he murmurs into my ear. I’m torn between hoping for that second kiss and wanting to defend poor Flit.

“I heard that! You just forget it!” Flit stomps her foot down in midair and she’s gone in a blink, just as before. Rian looks around.

“That worked,” he says.

“You’re awful,” I shake my head, and my wish is granted as I’m quieted with another kiss, this one even softer and longer than the first. When we finally separate, I’m eye-level with the Mage Mark that curves along his jaw. “Why does it happen, exactly?” I run my finger along the black line. Despite its dark connotations, it is beautiful the way it curves and swirls gracefully.

“There’s no distracting you, is there?” He smirks. “It’s caused mainly by overreaching your skill. If you try to perform magic that’s too powerful or too high above your Circle, the Mark grows. If you spend too long in certain levels of Rumination, also.” His lips brush my forehead as I lean against him, listening to his heartbeat.

“I have it,” I say quietly. “It’s just a small circle, here.” I tap my breastbone just over my heart. “But I didn’t perform any magic.”

“I know, it’s in the notes Master Gaethon left me.” He sighs. “Just another mystery that’s eluding me. Mouli says you didn’t have it when you were put to bed, but it was there when you woke up.” I nod, and he continues. “I have been meaning to ask you about your dreams, but with everything that’s been going on there hasn’t been time. You didn’t tell Master Gaethon about that dream you were asking Flit about, did you? That wasn’t in his notes.”

“No,” I say, thinking back to that afternoon right before my father was brought home. “It felt wrong to tell him. I felt like he wasn’t supposed to know.” We go back to the guild hall, where Rian clears a space on the table and pulls out a fresh sheet of parchment and a quill as I sit beside him.

“Tell me about the dream,” he says, his quill poised over the page. “Try to remember as much detail as you can.” I remember the first dream, when I lay among the golden wheat, listening to the peaceful sound of the breeze and birdsongs. I try to think of how to describe it, but no words seem adequate. The more I think about it, the more unsettled I feel. It’s too personal, too private even to share with Rian. It feels wrong, as though describing it would somehow desecrate the memory of it.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe we should do this later. You need some sleep, and then you need to study. And eat. When was the last time you ate?”

“Azi, this is important.” He shakes his head.

“So is your health, Rian. How can you even think straight when you’re starving and exhausted?”

“Ugh, you sound just like Mouli.” He leans over the page and rubs his forehead. “Listen, just give me this, and I promise I’ll eat and sleep and all of that.”

“Promise?” I ask. He nods and dips his quill.

“If I can get one solid answer in all of this mess,” he gestures to the pile of books and scattered notes, “then maybe I can shut my mind up long enough to get some sleep. And I think I’ve almost figured this one out, so, please.” He scrawls the words “Azi’s Dream” across the top of the page. I take a deep breath and close my eyes and think. I can almost smell the wheat. The sky is impossibly blue...I don’t want to ruin it. This place belongs to me. I try to speak several times, but words fail me. I glance at Rian. He’s getting annoyed.

“How about this?” he sets the quill down and pushes the paper away. When he speaks, his voice is so quiet that I need to lean much closer in order to hear him. “When I enter Rumination, the first stage is black and terrifying. The screaming drowns everything else out. It sounds like a thousand souls being tortured. I can barely think. I feel like I’m becoming one of them.”