Flicker (31 page)

She gave him a blank look.

He rolled his eyes.
“
That’s what it’s called when
faeries
go on a solemn
procession
. I
t actually
is
sort of like a pa
rade, I guess,” he mused.
“But anyway, the
Summer Court always goes on a Rade through Bridgestone on Samhain.”

“
Why’s that?”

“Bridgestone is a magical hotspot,” Filo
explained
. “It’s
close to a few portals to Otherworld.
Ther
e’s a lot of energy around here
. It’s also deep in Summer Court territory, near several of their good revel sites. So, if Summer wants to make an impression on the locals
…
”

“They do it here,” Lee finished.

“Right. And on Samhain, the Summer
Daoine Sidhe
go on a Rade through the city
—invisible to normals, of course
. It’s
their way of saying that even though they’ve relinquished control to Winter for two seasons, they won’t be stopped f
rom celebrating
. It’s just a show. Summer is very flash
y. After they pass through,
the other creatures come out.”

“One more thing,” Lee added. “Why were yo
u talking about a dryad
?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What do you know about dryads?”

“I know that one is looking for me. That’s why you were fighting with Nasser, why you freaked out when I told you abou
t that half-breed.
”

“What makes you think—”

“I’m not
deaf, Filo,” she said wearily. “At Snapdragons, I
hear
d
you guys talking about a dryad, and today
.
…
If I’m right, th
en you should tell me
. If thi
s is nothing, then look
me in the face and tell me that I don’t have anything to worry about.
But if I should be worried—
”

“Look,” Filo interrupted.
“
I don’t know everything about this. There’s a dryad, yes. And she’s looking for you, yes,” he allowed. “But I don’t know why.
Just
…
don’t think about it too mu
ch. Not tonight.
”

* * *

Byrony was crouched in a small grove of trees, deep in the park. Even here, in the biggest piece of nature for miles around, the stink of iron and of humans assaulted her senses. Bridgestone City truly was a poisonous place.

Other
fey
were in the park—she could hear their voices, glimpse them as they darted past—but she hid herse
lf from them
. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she felt dizzy.
Her skin
itched and burned like a curse
.

The last time she visited Bridgestone to
inquire about Nasser Ethan Rew—secretly, and against Feronia’s wishes—it was before Samhain. T
he Summer Court was still technically in control of this world
then
. She hadn’t worried about the change forcing itself upon her. Winter held sway now, though, and her body was shocked by the foreign influence of another Court’s magic.
She couldn’t hold off the change.

Byrony’s
dark
skin was already turning brittle, like dried leaves. With each bend of her fingers or arms, the skin cracked and flaked. She’d never had a seasonal change like
this. It had never
been harsh,
never hurt. She rubbed at her own forearms, and her skin sloughed off in great patches. Underneath, her skin was tender and new, pale as birch bark, stinging in the cold air.

Even her scalp was itching now. When she mussed her hair, Byrony gave a cry of dismay: Green strands came away in her fingers.
The new autumn-toned growth would come in quickly, especially if she spent a few hours sleeping inside a tree, but she didn’t have tim
e to rest now. She’d have to search for Nasser Ethan Rew looking
a mess, molting like a bird.

Long ago, when Byrony lived deep, deep in an ancient forest
of the human worl
d,
she had changed gradually, along with the temperature: winter, spring, summer, fall. She’d lived her life by that
steady
, gentle
rhythm.

But that was before she set eyes on Umbriel
. One year, his traveling revel stopped in her forest
, between visits to Otherworld
. She wandered in with her dryad sisters, curious to
hear
the strange music and
meet
the stranger fey.
They danced with laughing courtiers and tasted summer wine. For the first time, they saw humans. Byrony was fascinated. The humans were like animals, blinking and stupid, meant to decay. But when they reached those rapturous heights of music, art or acting, they were beautiful. Almost like fey. Like her.

She
first
glimpsed Umbriel from a distance, when s
he
ventured into the nobles’ corner of the revel. Her sisters were fearful of
the Daoine Sidhe,
but Byrony was curious. She wanted to see the proud, beautiful fey that the solitaries who passed through her forest told stories of.

And see them she did. Most paid her no mind as she
strolled among them; they just continued sipping
jewel-colored
wine
and watching the
human entertainment.

He was
dancing when she saw him, moving grac
efully from partner to partner, shafts of sunlight clinging to him like admirers. In that moment, the music faded away and the bright faeries dulled to shadows.
She’d
never known beauty before she saw his face. S
omething had shifted inside her, moved inexorably closer to him
.

The stars and streams and ancient trees
of her home
were nothing to her
then
. Her heart
didn’t beat
for the forest anymore. It was beating for him.

Byrony grabb
ed the arm of a passing serving elf. “The Sidhe
that
the sun follows
,” she breathed. “W
ho is he?
”

The elf followed Byrony’s gaze
, looking mystified
. “Prince Umbriel,
of
cours
e
!
”
Then she scurried away, balancing her wooden tray of sliced fruit.
Byrony barely noticed.

“
Umbriel,” she murmured. His name was like a mouthful of jewels. “Umbriel.”

Because of the
forest she was born in, Byrony was a denizen of the Summer Court. Still, she and her sisters were so far removed from everything
, especially Court life,
that she’d never felt like part of it. But from that moment
on
, she had belonged to
Umbriel
utterly
—and to the Court he would one day rule
.
She spent every day and night in the revels, hungering
for
a glimpse of him. Even her sisters seemed like a distant inconvenience as she racked her brain for a way to get closer.

When the season turned, she left her forest and her sisters to follow the revel.
She spent most of her time moving from tree to tree, watching from within the confines of the trunks
and branches
, because it was the only way she could study both Umbriel and the nobles, learn their ways.

It wasn’t long before she realized she could use the wicked
ness of the nobles—of acts she witnessed, and others she invented—to bring herself close to Umbriel.
Byrony used to fret while she plotted against those who stood in her way
, her insides churning with nerves and even guilt
—but with each successful scheme, with each rival who fell away, the next was easier.
It bothered her less and less, until it did not bother her at all, until she felt like she was doing good deeds by protecting Umbriel from those who would use him.
And so it would be this time.

Now she kept Umbriel at the front of her mind as she scraped skin from her legs, wincing. She was in this toxic land to defend her place at his side, and no
pain was great enough to make her sacrifice that.

Byrony straightened and crept out of the copse. She felt immediately exposed,
the chill, iron-soaked air searing her new skin. B
ut, grimacing, she forced herself to start across the dying grass and into the
poisonous
city.

* * *

“I’ve got it all worked out,” Filo announced. “If I take Jason and Nasser takes you, then we’ll be equally handicapped.”

Lee frowned. Before she could say anything, he went on:

“Y
ou h
ave zero experience
and Jason’ll probably
run off
. You’re liabilities.” He raised one hand to silence her before she could protest. “How
ever
, the fact that I’m packing you
a bag says that I expect
some work from you tonight. That’s what you get for learning magic.”

He tossed her the bag; she peered inside. It was filled with bottles, jars and packets, as well as a few pieces of wood
and some amulets
. She pulled the bag over one shoulder, testing its weight.

“Before we go out tonight, there are some things we should go over,” Filo stated. He picked up a sack from the table and reached inside, pulling out a puzzle-piece-shaped bit of wood
, the size of her hand
. “Here, get a good look at it.”

She took the puzzle piece gingerly, running her fingers over the symbols carved into the wood. “What is it?”

“
It’s called a
Block
—well, that’s what we call them, anyway
. It’s
for channeling energy
using the runes carved into
it
.
Blocks focus and amplify magic. They
mak
e a little magic go a long way.
Look here.”
Filo took the Block
and pointed to one of the runes. It was a single vertical line. “This is a
run
e
for ice.”

“So, you’d use it to conjure ice or something?”

“Yes. Or a burst of hail. Be creative with it. Blocks are powerful,” he went on, “but you can only force so much magic through one before it gives out. Some have more capacity than others, but once you use it up, it’s done.”

“How do you use them?”

“When you c
ast a spell,
you channel
your magic
through the Block
and let the
runes magnify
it
.
You can increase the
power of a Block by using it
with another. That’s why they’re shaped this way—they’re meant to fit together. You can’t just
stick
any random Blocks together, but there are a lot of combinations. I’d
demonstrate
, but I don’t have
a lot of
extras. Blocks are hard to come by and I don’t know how to make them. They’re expensive. Use them sparingly.”

“One-time use, limited supply,” she recited. “I
guess
I
can figure out the rest if I have to.”

“Let’s hope
you don’t have to,” he said soberly. “
A lot can go wrong
.
You’ve seen Jason’s arms
, right? He did that with a Block covered in fire runes.”

“Oh.” She paused, visualizing the possible consequences of misapplied magic, for r
eal, for the first time. “Wow.”

“Here,” Filo moved on. “Let me show you
some
more runes
.”
He went to the large
book
case
and ran his fingers
along the
mismatched
spines. Eventually, he
hefted
a huge, leather-bound volume
from the shelf
. When he set it down and opened it, she realized that it was a book entirely of runes.

“This one,” Filo said, touching one illustration, “is running water. It’s good for dispelling enchantments or getting faeries off your tail. Here’s salt. Excellent for protection.”