Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) (22 page)

One of the orbs drifts close and starts to grow until it’s my size. A pretty lady emerges from it. Her hair is as long as she is tall, and her wings are like a dragonfly’s, long and slender. Her gown is all leaves and flower petals that sparkle with dew. Her large eyes are framed with dark lashes, but the rest of her face is more animal-like. Sort of like a baby deer’s, with a black nose and velvety fur. She’s very strange looking, but beautiful.

“Hello,” she says with a smile. “I’m Doe. I’m pleased to be your guide.” Her voice is soft, like a breeze through leaves.

“Hi, Doe! I’m Saesa, and this is Tib. Oh, you’re so beautiful! May I touch your wings?’

I look up at the other Oren while Saesa chatters with Doe. It’s still streaming memories from Mevyn. He must be old, I think. He has a lot to share.

“Will he come, too?” I ask the Oren who let us in.

“If he is worthy.” Oren replies. I gaze up. I don’t know whether to hope he is or isn’t. I want to make him pay for what he did to me, but I don’t want to lose him. It’s confusing to feel both things at the same time, and so strongly, too.

“This way,” Doe says gently. “They are expecting you.”

She leads us away down a winding path. It meets with a brook that sparkles and babbles beside us. Saesa and I are quiet. I’m too caught up in the memories that Oren showed me. I imagine she is, too. I wonder what she saw that she had forgotten. For me, it was my mother and my father. Did I always have those memories before I met Mevyn? When were they taken from me? Why would he hide them that way? Beside me, Saesa pauses. She’s staring into the water. Doe stops, too, and watches her.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Jewels,” she whispers. “Look at them, Tib. The whole stream bed is filled with them.” She steps off of the path toward the water and I follow her gaze. She’s right. Beneath the rushing water, I can see them. Flickers of green emeralds and red rubies. Blue sapphires. Nuggets of gold. Just a handful of these riches would make us wealthy for a lifetime. I glance at Doe. A curious smile plays on her face. She blinks slowly. Calmly. Watches us.

“Saesa,” I try to stop her from going to the stream, but Doe presses a finger to her lips to quiet me. I can tell she wants to see what Saesa will do.

Saesa is too fixated on the jewels to notice. I can see her struggling with herself. I can imagine what she’s thinking. It would be wrong to take them, but there are so many. And they’re just lying there, like any other useless stone. Still, it’s wrong. Especially right in front of Doe, who’s watching so closely.

“Come on, Saesa,” I say and step toward her, but she ignores me and wades further into the stream.

When she bends toward it, reflections of the water’s surface splash across her face. She pauses with her hand in the water. She’s still considering it.

“Saesa,” I say again. This time, I’m a little more worried. What will happen if she takes some? What will Doe do? All around us, the chattering and giggling of fairies hushes. The drifting orbs of light dim out. I creep closer, ready to stop her if she tries.

She doesn’t, though. She scoops the crystal clear water into her hand and turns to Doe and asks, “Is it safe to drink?”

“Of course, child.” Doe smiles.

We drink until our thirst is quenched, and then continue along the path. Every once in a while, I notice Saesa looking at the jewel-encrusted stream bed with longing, but she resists it. When Doe finally pauses beside a huge willow tree, it’s past noon.

“Here is our entrance,” she says dreamily. “But you cannot attend the Ring at your size. May I?” She nods to us both and reaches toward us.

“What?” we ask together. I back away from her.

“I shall shrink you down to their size, so you do not trample them. There are many, and you are too large.”

“Can you put us back to normal after?” I ask her.

“Of course,” she laughs softly, and Saesa and I exchange glances before we agree.

It’s a strange feeling, shrinking. It makes my skin tingle and my stomach flip. Otherwise, it’s more like everything around us is growing and we’re staying the same. Doe shrinks, too. She ducks into a hole at the base of the tree. Into the darkness of the twisting roots.

“This way,” Doe beckons. Saesa looks around. She tugs on a tall blade of grass with amazement and laughs, then follows Doe into the roots.

“Tib!” she calls from the darkness. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

This close to the ground, the scent of the earth is heavy in the air. The smell brings me back to the desert, to the roots. It’s musty, like the water that dripped into my mouth. The ones before me seem to curl and dance strangely. They taunt me. They laugh. I can’t go in there. I can’t follow, and the roots know it. They know it and they mock me for it. Saesa pokes her head out and grabs my hand. I fight her, but she pulls me through into the darkness.

“It’s all right, Tib, see?” she says. “It’s just a door. Open your eyes. Look. Look what’s on the other side!”

I don’t want to, but I do as she coaxes. I open one eye first, then the other. We’re not in the roots. We’re outside. I can see why they call it the Ring now. It’s a wide circle of grass, all surrounded by trees. White mushrooms dot the outside of the circle, and it’s surrounded by crowds of fairies. All different kinds, all different colors. Some are bright and cheerful like flowers, and some are dark and dirty like mushrooms. Some are like Doe, and look like animals. Others look like beetles and bugs. There are dozens of them, and they’re all completely silent. None of them turn to look at us when we approach them. They’re all too fixed on something in the center of the circle.

Saesa and I follow Doe as she creeps closer to the crowd. Doe gasps and covers her mouth, and Saesa cranes to see over a tall, skinny fairy who looks like a broken stick. I crouch on the other side of him until I find a gap to peek through.

In the center of the Ring, there is a tiny, frail looking child standing on a dark stone. Her skirts look like long pink flower petals, and her hair is a greenish yellow puff on top of her head. A tall, slender man kneels in front of her. I don’t think he’s a fairy. He doesn’t have wings. He’s dressed in blue and gold Mage robes, and he looks vaguely familiar. Beside him in the grass, there’s an arrangement of deep blue armor. It sparkles in the sunlight like polished stone. A white cloak is spread out beneath it. I shift to try to see it better, since that’s what everyone seems to be interested in.

“Is that…?” Saesa whispers.

“That’s Crocus,” Doe whispers.

“No, not her,” Saesa says under breath as she cranes her neck to see better. She moves closer to me. Peeks through my gap. Claps her hands over her mouth. Her eyes go wide and she turns to me in disbelief. “Sir Azaeli,” she breathes. I look again and see the blonde braid draped over the shoulder of the armor. I can’t see her face. It’s covered by her visor.

“Is she dead?” I whisper to Saesa. One of the fairies in front of us turns around and hisses angrily. Doe places a hand on him to settle him, and then presses a finger to her lips at me. I understand. Saesa and I crouch together and watch in silence, waiting to see what happens.

Tib

Crocus gazes down. Not at the knight and the Mage, but at her own feet. I’m not sure why, but I get the sense that everyone’s waiting for her to say something. She looks up and around the circle of mushrooms slowly. She’s so calm and peaceful, and blurred at the edges like a dream. It makes me feel lazy just watching her. When she starts to speak, her voice is sweet and warm. Something about it makes me want to rush to her. I want to protect her. Keep her safe. Do anything she says. It reminds me of Mevyn. At first I don’t know why, then I realize. Fairy magic. I scowl.

“Rian Eldinae,” Crocus says a little wearily. “Windsaver. Oathkeeper. Arcane Guardian. Steward of the Wellspring.” She pauses and the Mage tears his gaze from Azaeli. He grips her hand in his, though, like he’s afraid of letting go. Magic crackles from his fingertips. Beside me, Saesa moves closer. She links her arm through mine.

“We are certain,” she continues, “that the Makers will find answers now that Flitt has gone to deliver Azaeli’s tether to them. At the very least, they will determine who has been meddling with our traveling fae. Perhaps we shall find out why, as well. While we await her return, tell us from the beginning. What has become of our ambassador?”

“We had just arrived in Sorlen River Crossing,” Rian presses Azaeli’s fingertips to his cheek while he talks. His gaze rests on her face. All around, the fairies are silent. Listening. There’s a power to his voice. The kind of power that always seems to shine from a Mage. Makes you like them and fear them all at once. He goes on.

“Azi and I had been out in the street, and then we went into the Inn. The others of our party were already settled.”

“Oh, tell us about the Inn,” someone in the gathering of fairies calls out.

“Yes, what was it like?” another fairy asks.

“Was there dancing?” says a third.

“Was there singing?” Their interruption gathers momentum, and soon everyone is chattering excitedly. Saesa looks at me with amusement. In the center of the Ring, Rian scowls. The rock beneath Crocus starts rumbling. It shakes the ground beneath our feet. The fairies slow their chatter until it’s silent again.

“What was that?” Saesa whispers.

“Shh!” The group around us hisses. Doe shakes her head and presses her finger to her lips. Rian continues.

“The table was already set with drinks. Azi poured herself a cider. I usually check everything first, but she must have been too thirsty to wait. She drank while I was casting the Detection.” He shakes his head. Kisses her fingertips. “It didn’t take long for whatever it was to take effect. She faded. Slipped away. We couldn’t wake her. We tried everything. Brother Donal, our Cleric, he tried purging her of poison. Lisabella tried with her auras to wake her. My mum, Mya, even tried a Song of Resurgence. Nothing worked. Then came the blame. Bryse needed someone to blame. Someone had to have put something in the cider. First he thought it was the barkeep, but that was proved false. Then, the tavern girls. With every person we disproved, Bryse and Azi’s father grew more furious. They stormed outside and confronted Jac. He’s a guard assigned to us by Eron. Everyone’s suspicious of him, but that’s another story. In the meantime, I was trying to figure out what it was that was in the cider, not who put it there, and how to get her back. I even thought to drink some, but the others refused to allow it.

“Then, something that Donal did worked. Azi woke up just for a moment. They called for water. She looked right at me. She looked and she said, ‘In Kythshire,’ and then she was gone again. As soon as she passed out, Lisabella, it was so strange,” he shakes his head, “she lost her temper. I’ve never seen her like that. She shook Azi. Tried to wake her. Screamed at her. When that didn’t work, she grabbed the cider from me and drank it. Nothing happened, though. It didn’t have an effect on her. Then my mum started. She was furious. She accused Lisabella of acting irresponsibly. What if she had been poisoned, too? But Lisabella wouldn’t hear it.

“It was all so irrational. Mum and Lisabella never fight. Mum has such a level head. Brother Donal tried to get them to see reason, but he got drawn into the heat of it, too. To top it off, the conflict in the street was escalating. Bryse and Benen had Jac by the collar. They were dragging him inside. They would have started a brawl. A brawl with a palace guard! It’s unthinkable. And all of this, with Azi lying there on the filthy floor of the tavern, unresponsive. Helpless. If there had been a fight…” His voice trails off. He shakes his head. “I had to do something. I had no choice.” His fingertips crackle with energy. He lowers Azaeli’s hand tenderly. Puts it on her chest. Makes a fist and closes his eyes. The crackling stops. He repeats at a whisper, “I had no choice.”

The Ring stays silent. It’s like everyone is holding their breath, waiting for the rest of the story. Next to me, Saesa has her hand clapped over her mouth. Her eyes are wide. She’s just as caught up in it as the rest of them. It takes a while for Rian to calm down enough to go on. When he does, I can barely hear him, his voice is so low.

“It was Flitt’s idea. Not that I’m blaming her, of course. It was brilliant. It had to be done. There was no other way, was there?”

“I imagine not, Rian. I’m certain you acted as you saw best fit. What was it you did?” Crocus tilts her head slowly to the side, waiting.

“I slept them. All of them. The entire tavern.” As he says it, his voice thins out. He looks tired. Drained. I didn’t notice it before. “I put them all to sleep, and I locked the Inn doors and warded it with everything I know. I made a golem to watch over them. Then Flitt and I brought Azi here through the Half-Realm.” He presses his hands to his face. Rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking. A spark from his fingertips startles him, and he moves closer to Azaeli and grips her hand again.

“Something’s happening,” he whispers. “Something bigger than cider, poisoned or not. A darkness has been affecting us. I noticed it early on our journey. It was slow and subtle, but it was there. Nuances. Feelings. It affected all of us on some level, but Azi was particularly taxed. Our guild is usually so temperate. Amiable. We’re like family. We all love each other. But our journey has been fraught with spats and shadowed by anger and annoyance. It isn’t like us. The Elite is renowned for its good temperament.”

After another long silence, Rian tears his gaze from Azi and says to Crocus, “Ah, it’s my turn to ask a question, isn’t it?”

Crocus laughs softly and nods. “Yes, and there it was. Now it is our turn. What do you suspect is the cause of this darkness which spreads within your ranks?”

“Something powerful. It feels like Sorcery to me. It started with nightmares. Suggestions to our minds. It toyed with our emotions and our perceptions.” He shakes his head, “It even had Azi attacking the Prince. I should have realized it then, that some force was at work. I should have seen it. I don’t know what it could be. I’ve never encountered anything like this before. Have you?”

“We are just now learning of it, as you are, though it does ring true with songs our muses have sung for generations. We have not encountered it, but we have been aware of it. Anticipating it.”

“Are you saying that you knew this was going to happen?” His palms crack loudly. Overhead, thunder rumbles. “You knew and you didn’t warn us? Or do anything to stop it?”

“We understand a man’s tendency to temper, and so we forgive your tone. But it was not your turn, and you asked three questions of us. Therefore, the game is done.” Before Rian can argue, she turns her attention to the rest of the Ring. Rian gapes at her and then closes his eyes. It’s obvious he’s trying to control himself. He clasps his hands in his lap. His jaw is clenched tight. Crocus pays no attention. She calls out over the rest of us.

“We call Soren Hasten Udi Swiftish Haven,” she nods to a mushroom across from us. A tall, green fairy dashes down from the cap. He looks like a large mantis, with spindle legs and long, sleek wings. He’s covered in a shell of green armor except for his head, where his blonde-green hair is swept back like he’s been flying into the wind. “Shush,” Crocus nods to him and smiles.

“Crocus,” Shush whispers rapidly. “Thank you for choosing me. I’ll help in any way I can.” His voice is like a gust of wind. Crocus smiles. Tilts her head.

“
Fly swiftly to the Avenside, fetch a crystal. From there, to Iste. Then Shest Cove. Speak to the Oracle
.”

Shush nods and shoots up into the sky.

“That was strange,” Saesa whispers to me, “She didn’t even say anything.”

“Yes she did—” I start, but the fairies in front of us turn and glare. Crocus speaks again.

“We recognize Ki of the Shadow Crag,” she sweeps a hand northward and the gathering of fairies erupts into whispers.

A little ways along the circle, a group parts to allow her to pass. Saesa and I shift our view to try and see, but everyone is moving around too much, changing our gaps. The stone that Crocus stands on rumbles again. Everyone mostly settles. When we can finally see into the circle again, Ki is already bent in a kneeling bow just on the edge of it. She’s very humble looking, with a bow slung across her chest and a quiver of arrows at her hip. Compared to everyone else here, she’s nothing special. Her armor is dull gray cloth studded with the same color studs. Her cloak is gray, too, just a shade darker. She wears her hood up, so all I can see is her nose. A Sunteri nose.

There’s something else about her. Something different. Saesa notices it, too. She leans toward me and whispers, “She has no wings. I think she’s human.”

I nod. I can tell. She’s got no magic. Not even a little. It’s almost like she repels it. I wonder why.

Closer to Crocus, Rian looks up. He looks like he’s calmed down some. His magic is still ready to burst out, though. When he sees Ki, he shifts himself so he’s blocking her view of the knight. Protecting Azaeli, which makes no sense to me. Ki is just an archer. Rian could obliterate her with a wiggle of his finger. Especially here.

“What news have you from the North, Ki?” Crocus’s question settles the crowd into a hush. Everyone seems to lean forward to hear Ki speak.

Ki keeps her head bowed respectfully. Her voice brings flashes of red blossoms. Black hair fanned out in the breeze. Book pages rustling. Whips cracking. Viala, riding away in a carriage, tucked beside the Sorcerer. Waving back at us for the last time. I shake my head. Try to focus. Next to me, Saesa grips my arm. I’m shaking. My whole body is. I can’t stop staring at the woman they call Ki. She is nothing like my sister. My sister was a girl. Frail. Thin. Bent. Defiant. Focused. This woman is strong but humble. Capable but distant.

“I come bearing a message from Iren, the Shadow Crag embodied. The Mountain Keeper. Esteemed Guardian of the Northern Border. Watcher of the North.”

“What message does he send?” Crocus asks. Her smile is different with Ki. More careful.

“Tib?” Saesa tugs my arm. She’s not watching the circle. She’s looking at me with concern. I take a deep breath. Try to calm my shaking. Unclench my hands and teeth. Wriggle my shoulders. Long for Mevyn. He would tell me what to do. He’d make this confusion go away. He’d keep me safe from it. We should have waited for him. She’s my sister, but she can’t be. My hand slides to a knife handle on my bandolier. The feel of metal wrapped with leather bolsters me. I want to charge Ki. Rip that hood from her. Tell everyone who she really is. What she did to her family. Make her hurt the way she left us to hurt.

I can’t, though. Some unseen thing is keeping me here, stuck to the grass. I look at Doe. She gives me an apologetic smile. Presses her finger to her lips. She’s the one holding me. I can feel the roots around my legs. I look down, but nothing is there. Still, I start to panic. I try to shift my knees and I can’t. They won’t move. It’s like the desert all over again. Roots climbing up over me. Encasing me. Squeezing me. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. Saesa is shaking my arm. Trying to snap me out of my panic. It’s just making it worse. I need to run. Need to get away, but I can’t.

“Tib, what’s happening, what’s wrong?” Saesa hisses at me. No one shushes her now. They’re all too fixated on whatever is going on in the circle. I reach back. Claw at my calves. Try to free myself from the unseen bonds.

“Roots,” I gasp, and Saesa’s eyes widen. “Doe. Holding me. Roots.” I pant. My breath quickens and then stops altogether. Tiny dots of gray prickle my vision. Close in around me. I need air, but I’m too gripped by panic to suck it in.

“Tib, breathe!” Saesa cries. “Stop it, whatever you’re doing to him, stop! You can’t hold him! He’s too frightened! Can’t you see?”

“I shan't. He meant to enter the Ring with violent intent.” Doe’s voice is far away. Saesa’s too. The murmurs of all of the fairies around us echo in my ears. The gray dots close in. I tip forward into the broken stick fairy. Saesa catches me. Tells me to breathe again. Tilts my head until I can see her eyes through the dots of gray. Green. Bright, but scared. I focus on them. The grip of panic loosens a little. I gasp. Let the air fill my lungs. Let it out again. Take another deep breath. My vision starts to come back.

“Just breathe,” she whispers. Strokes my hair back.

“We call Doe of the East,” Crocus’s sweet voice drifts over the disrupted crowd to us, “and her charges.”

Doe closes her eyes slowly. Shakes her head. Looks at me and Saesa. Her lips are pressed into a thin line. Her black nose is flared out. She’s angry. Embarrassed. I don’t care. She releases the bonds and beckons for us to follow. I spring to my feet. Shove my way forward. Charge toward the Ring. To Viala. To my sister.