Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) (24 page)

“Enough, Ember. We do not recognize you at this time.” Crocus dismisses the red fairy with a wave of her hand.

“What else have you seen in the Dreaming?” Crocus asks Ki.

“Sir Azaeli,” she gestures to the knight in the grass. “Just last night. Dressed in a red gown. She was running from him. She hid with me in a cavern as we waited for him to pass. She was confused. She asked me to help her leave, but I had no way of bringing her with me.”

“You saw her?” Rian whispers, “She’s safe?”

Ki turns to him. Nods.

“She was, just last night, Your Excellency,” she says. “But she is stalked by the Dreamwalker.”

“How do I get to her?” Rian lets go of Azaeli’s hand and stands. “How do I find her?”

“You must be drawn into a nightmare.” Mevyn says to Rian. “He controls it now, who is allowed to enter and who is barred. I suspect you won’t be able to reach her. It’s almost certain that he is expecting you.”

“No,” Rian paces the grass, his fingertips sparking with magic, “there must be a way. Through the Half Realm? Could I enter that way?” He looks desperately from Mevyn to Crocus and Scree.

“Perhaps,” Crocus says. “But there are other ways.” She looks at Mevyn, “Are there not?”

“Indeed,” Mevyn says wearily.

“Mevyn, The Last of the Sunteri Fae, we offer you this bargain. We shall reward you with a means to restore Sunteri’s Wellspring, in exchange for your assistance in recovering our Champion from the Dreaming. Together with her, you shall vanquish the Dreamwalker. Only then, when he is defeated, shall we aid in restoring your lands and your people.”

Mevyn gapes at Crocus in disbelief. He steps back from her.

“You can’t mean that you expect me to…” his voice trails off.

“We do, and you shall. Enter the Dreaming. Recover Azaeli, and seek out the Dreamwalker. Put a stop to him. If you succeed, we shall provide a means to restore your lands.”

“It is too much of a risk. If I was to enter and not return, do you not see? It would mean the utter end of my kind.” Mevyn is half-panicked. I watch him, take him in. See something there. A dark path. Eyes in the shadows. Hissing and spitting at him. Jeering. Scorning. He is a coward. He hid himself away when he should have fought at the trees, the roots. He should have claimed his titles and instead he ducked in the shelter of a human and gathered them up as they fell. Trees stretch up into the black, starless sky. Hopelessness creeps like smoke along the ground. Dreamwalker is coming. He senses Mevyn, his power. He wants it, wants to draw it out. To own it.

Mevyn lowers his head. Shakes it. “I cannot risk it,” he says. “I shall send my own Champion in my place.”

“I don’t think so!” I shout at him. “Coward! You’re afraid of him and ashamed of yourself, so you send me? I refuse. Why should I? Why should I do anything for you? I don’t care about any of this!” I don’t. I want to go back to the elves. Make a home there, where the Dreamwalker can’t touch me. Or even Cerion. Go back to Nessa.

“You have already been Named, Tib, within the Ring. You are bound to this fate.” Crocus offers calmly.

“What? I never agreed to that!” I clench my fists. My shoulders rise. I turn to Mevyn. I want to hurt him. Rip out that ever-waving hair. See the color of his blood. I wonder if it’s gold like the rest of him.

“Wait,” Rian speaks. He takes a deep breath. Presses his fingertips to his brow. Thinks a moment. His reasoning calms me a little. It isn’t magic, it’s just the way he goes about it. Logically. I can see it. He turns off his emotion to let himself think. It’s a trick I’d like to learn. “Mevyn, you have a means of getting there, right? Do you have a way to track Azi once we arrive? Just bring me. I’ll go alone and find her. She and I can vanquish this Dreamwalker, whoever he is. There’s no need to drag children into it.”

“I’ll go, too!” Flitt chirps. She drifts to Azi’s side and settles next to Saesa, who grins at her. Saesa loves these fairies, I can tell. She watches them with such interest and affection. I, on the other hand, can see around their charms. Into their secret intentions. They can’t trick me. They won’t lure me into this.

“I have been to the Dreaming many times,” Ki says, “I would be honored to lend my guidance, if I would be permitted.”

“That is for Iren to decide. You may go and ask.” Crocus smiles. After Ki bows and leaves, Crocus turns to me. “I understand your reluctance, Tib. This battle, you believe, is not yours to fight. But Oren has shown us your experience with the Dreamwalker. We have seen it. You know his power. Mevyn has given you a gift with this title. He has given you a means to stop the darkness. To be renowned. To be the Champion he sees in you.”

“
Offer him something. A place. He is too important to the cause. We cannot lose the Dreamstalker,
” Scree booms secretly.

“If you were to succeed,” Crocus pauses. Looks off into the woods where Ki disappeared. “It would prove to us your allegiance to Kythshire. We would allow you to remain with your sister on the Shadow Crag.”

I follow her gaze. Is that what I really want? To stay with Ki, the sister I lost? Even if she never remembers me? I turn back. Meet Saesa’s eyes. Green. Calm. Curious. Worried. I look away, to Azaeli. To Rian, who loves her. Who looks to her to calm him. I understand it. It’s how Saesa makes me feel. Grounded. Steady.

“Can Saesa come?” My question brings a wave of relief washing over the crowd. At least I’m considering it. They must really need me to go. I don’t understand why. What can I do that a Mage can’t? What skills do I have that a fairy doesn’t?

“Is there any way?”
Crocus asks Scree.

“No, there is too much risk. A blood tie such as that, it would open a way for him. We cannot allow the girl to go.”
Scree says.

“You’re certain she’s who you think?”

“I have seen what Oren saw. I am certain. She must remain.”

Crocus rests her gaze on Saesa. Takes in her closeness to Azaeli.

“You do not know this knight,” Crocus says. “Yet you keep vigil over her.”

“I do know her,” Saesa looks at Azaeli with admiration. “She’s why I wanted to take up the sword. I’ve watched her for a very long time. She’s my inspiration. I’ve looked up to her. I’d do anything to help her.”

“Even if that means remaining here beside her, while others go and fight to bring her back?” Crocus blinks her wide eyes slowly. Smoothes her petals with her tiny, breakable hands. Saesa pulls her gaze from Azaeli. Looks at me. Searches my eyes. I plead with her silently. Choose me. Not Azaeli. Me.

“What good would it do for me to remain?” Saesa asks. “If there’s a fight, I want to be part of it.” She looks from Crocus to Mevyn. “I can be trusted,” she says. It’s a strange thing to say. I’m not sure what she means by it.

Beside me, Mevyn locks his gaze with Crocus. They seem to communicate to each other somehow, though this time I can’t hear them. It’s almost as if Mevyn knows what I can do now. He knows, and so he’s blocking me. Still, I get the sense that Mevyn has an understanding of Crocus’s need to keep Saesa here and send me away. I open my mouth. Try to say something. Try to tell Saesa about the others’ conversation. I try, but the words don’t come. I can’t think of them. Instead, Mevyn speaks.

“I can take only three along with me. No more. Rian, Tib, and Ki. It would be unwise for Flitt to make the journey. Her light would be a beacon to the Dreamwalker. He would devour her without a second thought.”

“I’m not afraid of any Sorcerer!” Flitt jabs her fists to her waist. “I know how to handle myself around their kind, don’t I, Rian?”

“I have faith in Flitt,” Rian says quietly. “I’d be more comfortable with her than with…” He trails off. Looks at me. Mevyn. “I’m sorry. This is important, and we’ve only just met.” He looks down. Doesn’t trust us. I’m impressed. He’s very smart.

“Iren has allowed it,” Ki says from the edge of the Ring. She steps into the grass out of nowhere. I wonder how she was able to come and go so quickly.

“Then it is settled.” Crocus says. “Mevyn, Rian, Ki, and Tib shall go together. Flitt, you may bring yourself, if you’re determined. I assume you know the way into the Dreaming? But go with caution. We would be devastated to lose you, my dear.”

“Wait,” I say, “I haven’t agreed to any of this.” I cross my arms defiantly. Turn to Mevyn. Part of me wants him to explain, but I know I can’t trust a word he says. Could I walk away, though, knowing I left them behind? Knowing that I was so needed, that I could have contributed? “You manipulated me. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Why should I do anything to help you? To help any of you?”

“I will show you,” Mevyn says. “If you allow it, Tib, I will show you, and then you shall see how important it is. How much we need you. If you allow me to show you, I swear here in the Ring, before man and fairy alike, that I will never again meddle with your mind. A promise made here is binding. It cannot be undone. If you wish it, when we return, I’ll part ways with you. You’ll never have to see me again.”

I can see in his eyes that it pains him to say it. As manipulative as Mevyn is, as tricky and conniving, he cares for me. He tries to be my friend. I think on that, and I know it’s not him putting ideas in my head. These thoughts are my own.

“Fine,” I say after a long moment to think on it. “Show me.”

Azi

Jacek’s kingdom is more wonderful and terrible than any scribe could write about. It summons more fear and awe than any bard’s song could muster. His cloak circles around me, ebbing and flowing like the waves of the sea as he watches me take it all in. We’re standing on the rise of a boundless mountain peak, looking into an endless valley. The land is black and charred as though victim to a great, ancient fire. Wind sweeps over it in gusts, causing the skeletons of trees to bend to its will. A murky stream winds through marshes of ink. It circles a rise at the center the valley, where the spires of an impressive obsidian castle pierce the reddish sky.

I tear my gaze from it and look up at him, into those dark eyes circled with the blue-black mark. He stares into me as if he owns me, as if I’m his. I try to pull away, but he keeps me close.

“Is it not to your liking?” he asks. His whisper warms me, tells me everything is right. Perfect. Just as it should be. I want to hear more of it. I ache to hear him speak again. “If not, do what you will to it. Make it yours. Imagine it, and it shall be.”

The temptation of magic is more than I can resist. I feel it around me, surging from his cloak, prickling the pores of my skin. My hair is on end, dancing in the mountain breeze. I’m filled with a sense of warning, with a sense of daring. Never before has the Mages’ world been so open to me, so welcoming. I gaze at the castle across the marshes. I raise my hands slowly and feel the power of this realm seep into them. Numbing and exhilarating all at once, it creeps through me slowly until it consumes me and makes me feel weightless, powerful and unstoppable. I don’t need a whisper of a command, nor any complicated spells. I think of what I want, and it happens.

The ground beneath our feet bursts to life with deep green grass and colorful blossoms. It stretches out before us toward the castle like a ship’s wake in a calm sea, and it spreads to cover all of the black with joyous color. The skeletons of trees burst with blooms of white, and lush green leaves.

When my intention reaches the castle, the glistening black stone softens to coral and white. It gleams in the darkness like a beacon of hope, more beautiful than I imagined. In its soft light, precious little creatures begin to emerge: butterflies, fawns, rabbits. Innocent and timid, they hide and peek at first, but as the castle light splashes across them, they become bolder and emerge into the sparkling fields to drink the crystal waters and nibble on clover.

Jacek takes my hand in his and pulls me closer. His cloak slips around me, enclosing us, pressing us together. The rush of power is draining away. I feel it slipping from my head to my shoulders, seeping, fading. With it comes a sense of pure hopelessness and irrevocable loss. I’m empty, spent. My eyelids are too heavy. Keeping them open is an insurmountable task.

I sink back against Jacek, who bends to my ear. He presses his lips to it. It reminds me of a moment in my past, an uncomfortable moment that slips away like a ribbon in the breeze. An unwanted moment, a glimpse of who I was. I try to grasp it, but his whisper sends it drifting out of my reach.

“Impressive,” he says, and his breath gives me chills. “So bright and filled with honesty and hope. And now I see you’re ready. Shall we go in?”