Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) (7 page)

“Mage!” Viala calls firmly over the wind. Her voice is the only thing that doesn’t seem to have changed. “Show your hands.”

Rian’s hands appear over my shoulders on either side of my field of vision. Every now and then a glow of blue or a crackle of white flicks from them. Viala moves the bow slightly. Now it’s aimed directly into the eye of my helmet. At my shoulder, Flitt giggles.

“
Watch this!
” The fairy’s voice echoes in my mind. A flash of light glints off of the arrow’s point as Flitt appears on the tip of it.

“Ki!” Flitt squeaks with her hands on her hips, and Viala’s eyes widen. The former Sorceress dips to her knee without a second thought and bows her head. She lays down her bow and presses her fist to her chest.

“Your Brilliance,” she says in a hushed tone, so quiet that the wind threatens to carry it away before it reaches us.

“You may rise,” Flitt says with great airs, and Viala obeys. Flitt hovers above her and turns to us.

“This,” Flitt gestures to Viala, “is Ki.” The fairy’s light grows so bright as she speaks that I have to shield my eyes to keep them from watering.

“Ki,” Flitt goes on. “These are my friends. Rian Eldinae, Oathkeeper, Windsaver, Arcane Guardian, Steward of the Wellspring, and Azaeli Hammerfel, The Temperate, Pure of Heart, Reviver of Iren, The Great Protector, Cerion’s Ambassador to Kythshire.”

“Your Excellencies,” Ki dips to her knees again and bows her head with great reverence as Flitt rambles off the titles that had been bestowed to us by the fairies at the Ring just months ago. It’s the first time I’ve heard them used since then, and they still don’t feel like they fit quite right. I’m not sure what makes me more uncomfortable, hearing them again, or seeing Ki, formerly Viala, being so submissive. I take a step closer to Rian, who rests his hands gently on my shoulders.

“Wow,” he whispers in my ear. We stand there awkwardly for a long stretch, waiting for some change, but Ki continues to kneel and Flitt continues to glow blindingly bright. After a while, she winks mischievously.

“Um…” Rian stammers. “You don’t need to… That is, you can, you can get up, Via—” He clears his throat. “Ki.”

At his words, Ki stands and slings her bow over her shoulder. Her eyes glow soft blue for a moment and then she bobs her head to us.

“The Shadow Crag wishes to speak with you, Your Excellencies,” she says. “Please allow me to guide you.”

Rian and I glance at each other in disbelief as Ki turns to lead us up the mountain. She’s so completely changed from the power-hungry, ruthless Sorcerer she once was that Rian and I are both in awe. This girl steps lightly over the sharp, jagged rocks along the mountainside as though she’s lived here her entire life. I, on the other hand, cling to Rian so tightly that I fear I might snap his arm as we pick our way after her. Above us to the right, a sheer cliff stretches up to the sky. To our left there is a steep drop into a valley lined with golden wheat and heaps of treasure.

Just as I’m about to ask Flitt why she didn’t just bring us straight to Iren, Ki turns on the path. The glow in her eyes fades as she points into the space behind us and then bows her head. Rian and I shuffle ourselves around carefully on the narrow path to look back in the direction we came from. The ground rumbles beneath our feet as the stony platform where we arrived begins to move. Even though I’m half-expecting it, I’m awed by the transformation that takes place as the craggy mountain becomes the Guardian Iren. I see now that we had arrived on its chest, and had we stayed where we were, we would have been in serious danger as the great statue-like creature sat up to greet us.

Iren is just as breathtaking now as ever. A figure of grace and strength formed from the mountain itself, its presence is commanding and powerful. Its face is smooth and beautiful, with a strong jaw and lips that curve up to hint at a smile. The most remarkable thing about Iren, though, is the single eye in the center of its forehead, which is a polished blue stone as large as I am. Gazing into it is like looking into the night sky, where the stars are flecks of gold that float aimlessly in the vast space within. As Iren sits back I feel myself drawn into the eye, my gaze locked on the slow and peaceful movement of the flecks.

“Thank you, Ki. You have done well.” Iren’s voice booms over the wind. “Come.” It beckons her closer and Ki slips past us to climb deftly up to Iren’s knee. It looks at her and smiles, and she grins. I’ve never seen her smile so brightly. She seems genuinely happy.

“My friends,” Iren turns its attention to us, “welcome. You have met Ki. She is a great aid to the North Border.” Iren says. I look across to Ki, who stands a little taller at Iren’s praise.

“She’s…” I start, but I don’t know quite what to say.

“Remarkable.” Rian finishes for me.

“Ki, rest now. I will do the watching.” Iren smiles at her and she nods and slides into a stony fold of Iren’s tunic where she curls up comfortably.

“How did you do it?” Rian asks Iren as Ki drifts to sleep. “She seems as though she’s always belonged here.”

“Memory,” Iren replies. “Memory molded, formed, guided, taken and given. Memory is a most precious commodity. It empowers us. It makes us who we are.”

“Do you see now?” I ask Rian, “She isn’t Viala anymore. She never will be.”

“Indeed. The woman you once knew is no more. The Sorceress is gone. Forever changed.” Iren looks down at Ki with a fatherly affection. “Made new.”

Drawn to the kindness Iren exudes, I let go of my grip on Rian’s arm and step closer to it. The Guardian’s great hand scoops me up gently and sets me on its other knee. The Oculus looks me over and draws me in again.

Flashes of my recent memories rise and fade in the space between us like actors on a stage. I see myself riding through the streets of Cerion bearing the Elite banner, with crowds of people cheering as the Prince’s carriage passes through. We’re in the woods, and Eron sleeps as Princess Amei looks back to speak with me, her hand on her round belly. We’re in the village, and Rian’s enchanted bouquet glitters in my hand as I blush at him. We’re dancing in the tavern, and I’m avoiding Eron’s eye. I’m talking to Dacva in the hallway as he carries herbs to Amei’s room. Rian and I are hidden in the safety of the Half-Realm, lost in each other’s embrace, locked in a deep, passionate kiss.

Rian clears his throat loudly and the images fade as I tear my gaze away.

“You are well, Azaeli, my friend.” Iren says to me and I nod, a little disoriented.

“Yes, thank you,” I press my fingertips to my cheeks, which are hot with the most recent memory Iren drew out. My eyes meet Rian’s, who’s also blushing. He grins and shakes his head and we both laugh, embarrassed. Still, somehow what Iren does doesn’t feel like a violation of privacy. It’s more of an act of protection, as if it’s looking in on me to make certain I’m safe and content. There’s an unspoken understanding that this exchange is required if we’re to be in Iren’s presence.

“I am glad you have come,” Iren says. “And Rian Eldinae.” It offers its hand to Rian, who climbs into it a little hesitantly and is neatly placed beside me on its knee. Their gazes lock together and I watch the same exchange, though the figures that dance between them are more distant and faded than they were in my own display. I see Rian in a dark room, facing several Master Mages. He looks exhausted, harried. I know of this memory, but to see played out it this way gives it a life and makes it even more real.

When we returned to Cerion after the battle with the Sorcerers, Rian told me he faced many long days of questioning. Within the Academy walls, they secretly drilled him on everything from Viala’s stripping to the details of the time he spent in Kythshire. While I watch the memory, the thing that impresses me most of all is how true he remained to the fairies, and how hard he worked to keep their secrets safe. He was as tight-lipped as he could be about what he saw within the borders. I glance at Flitt who’s hovering beside me and watching the memory with fascinated awe.

Iren lingers for a long time on the grueling questioning that Rian faced, and then the memory changes to our conversation in the inn regarding Viala. I shift uncomfortably as I watch myself trying to convince Rian that taking her away from here would be okay, and I watch Iren’s face to gauge its reaction. It remains stoic and interested, and the memory fades between them as the observation ends. To my surprise, it doesn’t address that conversation at all.

“Rian Eldinae, you remain a true ally to Kythshire.” Iren nods respectfully. “For that, I offer you knowledge. A warning.” Iren says with a foreboding tone. I shift closer to Rian and slip my hand into his. “Do not linger in the Half-Realm. You consider it a safe place, but it is not a haven. Be vigilant there.”

“I understand,” Rian says. “Thank you, Iren.”

I try not to scowl. Ever since we were accidentally given access to the Half-Realm we have used it as a tool, a way to keep ourselves safe and unseen. I wonder what could possibly harm us there, and then I immediately think of the dark figure that I saw in the hallway at the inn, and the strange dreamers that leapt and soared in the city streets while Rian and I watched.

“As always, you are welcome at the Crag,” Iren says, “but you have come today for passage, which I grant unto you. Be safe, my friends. Remain on the path.” It presses its finger to the gravely ground and the pebbles sparkle with a soft white glow that snakes away through a nearby crevice. Iren picks us up and gently deposits us onto the path. “Be safe,” the Guardian repeats.

We say our farewells and follow the trail through the crevice and down the mountainside before anyone breaks the silence. Rian is the first to speak.

“That was interesting,” he says thoughtfully. I think back on the encounter.

“Which part?” I ask.

“You didn’t ask to bring Via— Ki.”

“Oh.” I say, thinking back. “I guess I forgot. It wasn’t the right time, anyway. We can come back for her. That was the plan, wasn’t it? After we see Amei and Eron safely to the castle.”

“Mm.” Rian gives a noncommittal reply and then pauses. “Here’s the border.”

“I’ll see you later,” says Flitt, breaking her own unusual silence.

“You’re not coming?” I ask.

“Nope, you go on. I’ll find you later. Hold on to that tether this time!” She pokes at my chest and then disappears.

“She’s so odd,” I say, closing my hand over the pouch.

“You say that like it’s a revelation,” Rian laughs. He runs his hand though the air in front of us. “All kind of wards and protections here. I’d imagine they keep the fae in as much as they keep others out.

“What are you saying?” I ask incredulously. “They’re trapped in here?”

“They don’t seem to see it that way, but essentially…yes.” Rian pulls his hand back and inspects it.

“Is it safe to cross?”

“It should be if we stay on Iren’s path like we were told.”

“Let’s go together, then.” I link my arm through his and we take a giant step together across the border. As soon as we cross, the white path fades away.

We’re greeted with a rush of air so cold that my nose and mouth sting with my first breath. Other than the cold, there is no difference here on the other side of the border. The trees are the same, and the landscape is just as sloped and rocky. A twig cracks nearby and Rian whispers a spell of protection which shimmers around us both. I reach for my sword and draw it from its sheath silently as frosty leaves rustle nearby. We watch silently, waiting for whatever is making the sound to reveal itself, and both breathe a sigh of relief as we catch a glimpse of familiar red fur.

“Elliot,” I reach my hand out to the fox and it trots up to greet me and nuzzle my hand. “Great! He can give us a ride back if we shrink down.” I remember the journey Elliot brought me on recently, to show me the corruption of Zhaghen and the distress of the fairies in Sunteri. We were able to cross continents in moments with me riding on his back. I crouch to stroke the thick fur at his neck, but when he looks up at me I pull my hand away. His eyes are wrong. They’re colorless and milky. Rian’s hand clamps over my shoulder and I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel the ground shift beneath me. Midway there, Rian whispers the revealer. When I open my eyes again, we’re in a hidden alcove just outside of the inn.

“That wasn’t Da,” he whispers as he pulls me into the street. We pause at the guards posted at the inn door just long enough for them to wave us through. When we duck inside we find Elliot and Mya sitting at the table, going over a list of supplies. Elliot looks up and smiles at us.

“We were wondering where you two wandered off to,” he says. “Never mind, you’re back in time for lunch.” He pats his stomach and grins.

“Right. We’ve got some things for you to take care of after.” Mya shuffles the lists as Elliot pats the bench beside him to invite us to sit, and Rian and I exchange a worried glance. If Elliot has been here, wide awake, then who was the fox in the Half-Realm waiting for us to cross the border out of Kythshire?