The Flute Keeper's Promise (The Flute Keeper Saga) (26 page)

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

A reverent hush blanketed the grove.
Grateful to be alone after weeks on the cramped ship, Lev made his way slowly
to the shrine of the Earth Guardian.

The detour had cost them many days of
slow, tedious travel up the river, but he’d insisted on visiting the shrine.
The mossy ground dampened his footfalls. Flecks of dust swirled in beams of
sunlight like the ghosts of confetti from some ancient parade.

A bird landed on a nearby fern,
startling him. He cursed himself for jumping, then scowled at the bird. The
dew-eyed creature cocked its head this way and that, studying him. Lev detected
about it the presence of otherness.

“You are a long way from home,” Lev
said.

The bird gave a chirp as if to say,
you, too.

“If there is such a thing as home
anymore,” Lev said under his breath. He passed the bird and entered the shrine
quietly.

Rae the Earth Guardian sat before
the altar with her short legs folded and her eyes closed, convening with some
cosmic force that Lev could not perceive. He waited at a respectful distance
until she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

“Mother Rae,” he said, dropping to
one knee.

She rose and came to him, waving
him to his feet. “No need for formalities, young man. You’ve traveled far and
you haven’t much time.”

“I have as much time as I need,”
Lev said. If it came off as aloof, it was not intended for Rae. “I am on my own
schedule now.”

Rae studied him closely. “Ah, I
see. You’re using somebody else’s resources to fund your own quest. All the
world to search, and you start with me. Of course, there could really be no
other way.”

“How do you know that?” Lev asked.

“How do you know that the leaves
will fall in autumn? The time of unrest is upon us. You’ve come seeking
answers, as I always knew you would.”

Lev watched her closely. “Two years
ago, you freed Ivywild from the curse of the Cian Varsha.”

“That freedom came with a price,”
Rae reminded him.

“The castle lost its barrier and
the king passed away,” Lev said. “Some would consider that a small price.”

“Tell that to King Theobald’s
family,” Rae said.

Feeling admonished, Lev stared at
the floor. “I do not intend to argue the value of the loss. My point is that you
were able to heal Ivywild with a sacrifice.”

“
Exchange
is a more apt
word. The king’s magic and the barrier were exchanged to replenish the magic
that was taken.”

“Call it what you want,” Lev said.
“I need to know if such an exchange could be used to heal Seraph’s Tear.”

At this, Rae’s wrinkled face fell
very solemn. She turned her back on him. “A city, dead for hundreds of years.
What makes you think it can be healed?”

A vision drummed at the edges of
Lev’s mind to the rhythm of his heartbeat. “I’ve seen it.”

Rae turned, her face completely
transformed by a look of youthful curiosity. “You’re a Prophet?”

“Not a very good one,” Lev
admitted. “My mother was one and I seem to have inherited her gift, at least in
part. I get glimpses sometimes of things that have not yet come to pass, but
they are only possibilities—things that
might
be.”

“Fascinating,” Rae said, drawing
near. Her large brown eyes were fixed on his. “It’s a rare gift, and often
misunderstood. The world as I know it is in a constant state of flux. It must
be very different for you.”

“It is a burden,” Lev said,
breaking off his gaze. He sought out the rosy hues of the stained glass window above
the altar. “To constantly see things you cannot change, or worse, to know that
you can but wonder if you should.”

“Then Seraph’s Tear…you know you
can restore it?” Rae asked.

Lev sighed. “I don’t know. It is
one thread among many and they are all unraveling.”

“I can’t even conceive of the magic
it would take to revive the place,” Rae said. “It has been so long cursed, and
a curse is not something that weakens with time. It only grows stronger.”

“You say that as though you’ve
dealt with your fair share,” Lev said.

Rae shook her head. “One is enough,
although…” she trailed off, carried away by a memory. “Funny,” she said,
returning to the present. “It has been nearly forty years to the day since
another young man came here to ask me about curses. I had to turn him away.”

A searing pain throbbed through
Lev’s skull, accompanied by a scream. The red dagger on his belt vibrated with
the sound in his head. He knew then that Rae’s words were the key to a puzzle
he’d been trying desperately to unlock.

“Child?” Rae said, placing her
small hand on his arm.

“Rae, can one curse be used to end
another?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How do
you mean?”

The scream was still echoing in
Lev’s head. He knew whose voice it was. “There is an older curse. The one who
bears it…” he trailed off, trying to control the anger that came every time he
pictured Emma’s face. The things she’d said on the dock were like hot, barbed
nettles that dug deeper into his skin every time he relived them.

“The Flute Keeper,” Rae said,
nodding. “You connected the thread.”

“Her curse,” Lev said, his voice
shaky. “Would it be enough?”

Rae started to say something, but
stopped. With a furrowed brow, she looked up at Lev. “That’s hardly the real
question. It comes down to what you said before. Just because it can be done,
does that mean it
should
be? You’re ignoring something quite vital
here.”

“And that is?” Lev asked.

“There’s a war coming,” Rae said.
“A dark energy has pervaded the atmosphere. Every living thing can feel it. All
my children—the trees and the Dryads in them, the flowers, the ants and the
fish in the sea—I sense their fear. Darkness is rising. You know this to be
true because you’ve come to face its army. That is the ultimate goal of your
journey, is it not?”

“Perhaps,” Lev said. “But what is
there worth fighting for if I have nothing to give my people when we’re
finished?”

Rae sighed. “Prophet or not, you’re
a bit shortsighted. Who’s to say that any of us will survive what’s to come? 
It’s a
war
, young king—a war unlike any this world has ever seen.”

“So we will fight,” Lev said.

Rae shook her head. “With blades
and spears you may make a dent, but there’s more to it than defeating the
undead drones. In this war, there is only one soldier capable of defeating the
real enemy, and that soldier isn’t you.”

Feeling slighted, Lev turned and
headed for the door. “Thank you, Mother Rae.”

“You came here for the truth,” Rae
called after him. “That is all I can give. You are not the one, young king.
That dagger is not yours to wield, and the curse is not yours to bear.”

Lev paused with his hand on the
door. “Then what do I do?”

“Be there for her.”

“She doesn’t need me,” he growled.

“Well, don’t hold that against
her,” Rae said. “We most certainly need
her
.”

Cursing in Slaugh, Lev left the
shrine. Rae stood in the doorway, watching his winged silhouette meld with the
forest. The ship had to be at least an hour downriver because the water around
the shrine was too shallow for safe passage.

“Oh, to be young and proud and
stupid again,” Rae remarked to the bird perched outside the entrance.

“Chirp!” he agreed.

A breeze rustled through the grove,
causing a few leaves to fall to the water’s surface. Rae watched the ripples
spreading out to meet each other. “It’s going to be a hard winter. You’d best
be tending to your nest, little one.”

Without a sound, the bird spread
its wings and took off.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Just a few more nails!” I shouted.

We had been working all through the
night. The rudder was taking shape below the observation deck. It jutted out
from the back of the house like a giant, patchwork spatula. I helped Mr. Larue
put pieces in place while everyone else searched for scrap wood and spare
nails. Already we were able to turn the rudder to one side or the other using a
tangled net of ropes. The only problem was that it took the floating house a
long time to change its course. It was still much more under the control of the
air currents than the rudder.

“Here!” Mrs. Larue said, handing me
a leg from a dining room table that had already been given up to the cause.
“Use that to brace the weak section near the bottom.”

I climbed down a length of knotted
rope and jammed the table leg into place near some support braces. Mr. Larue’s wings
appeared and he hovered beside me to drive a few nails into the brace. A
violent updraft suddenly caught him, causing him to bang his head on the
rudder. Cursing, he dropped the hammer. I reached out to grab it but I missed.
It fell until it was a tiny speck below.

The air was becoming unstable the
closer we got to the mountains. The big, black bumps that Harriet had spotted
were now jagged peaks that blotted out the view ahead. Plagued by updrafts and
chilly blasts, the house drifted ever closer to the peaks.

“It’s no use!” Mrs. Larue said.
“Even if we can steer it, we’re still too low!”

“If only the updrafts could lift
the house higher,” I said, wiping sweat from my face. I climbed up to the
observation deck and watched the mountains getting closer.

 “Keep adding to the rudder!”
Bazzlejet shouted through a window. He was able to sit up now and he’d been
watching our progress. “If we can get it to match the blueprint’s dimensions it
should give us more control!”

Alice and Harriet were red from
running around and getting materials. They slumped together against the deck
rail.

“Look,” I said, leaning into the
sitting room window, “Maybe Gremlins could build a full-sized rudder that fast,
but we can’t. We’ve got to think of something else.”

Bazzlejet squinted at me through
his puffy eyelids. “It
was
designed by Gremlins. I bought the blueprints
from these blokes called Joyboy and Wimbleysminch. They’ve pioneered air
designs for ships so I figured, why not a house, too? Guess it wasn’t such a
good idea.”

I dragged my fingers through my
hair and took a deep breath. I had an idea, but it was so reckless I didn’t
want to say it out loud.

“What is it?” Bazzlejet asked
weakly. “You look like you just swallowed a stinkshroom.”

“I have a plan,” I said through my
fingers.

“Let me guess,” Bazzlejet said,
trying to sit up straighter. “It’s very dangerous and likely to get us all
killed.”

“Not quite,” I said. “But it does
involve danger and destruction. See, the problem is that the house is too
heavy.”

Bazzlejet craned his neck to look
out of the scenic window on the other side of the room. The mountains were
close enough that the lichens growing on the rocks were clearly visible.
“Destruction is kind of a given if we don’t do something soon.”

“Your dad said that you guys are
all good flyers,” I said. “Is that true?”

“I’m not in top form right now,”
Bazzlejet said with a swollen grin. “But, yeah, we can all fly, even Beth.”

“Okay, here’s what needs to
happen.” I climbed in through the window and began laying out my idea to
Bazzlejet.

Suddenly there was a shout from
Alice. “Lookie! Flying snakes!”

My blood ran cold. I went out to
the patio. In the distance I spotted the unmistakable forms of wind drakes.
There were four. Each carried two of the duke’s men.

Mrs. Larue hugged her daughters
tightly to her. “They’re coming for us. We’re trapped!”

Mr. Larue was ashen. Watching him,
I felt terribly guilty. Their lives and their home were in danger and I
couldn’t help but think that it was all my fault.

“Do it,” Bazzlejet shouted. “Let’s
try your plan!”

Mr. Larue asked, “What plan?”

“The house is too heavy,” I said.
“Maybe if we could separate the observation deck from the rest of the house the
updrafts would lift us over the mountains.” I watched him carefully for signs
of shock. It was asking a lot for him to destroy the home he’d so carefully
built.

Mr. Larue acted neither shocked nor
angry. He rubbed his chin and said, “That might just work. If we move some of
the tethers to the observation deck and cut all the others…”

“You’d have to saw through the
boards where the deck connects to the rest of the house,” I said. “Do you think
there’s time?”

Mr. Larue flexed his fingers. “I
can do it.” He turned to his wife. “Cecily, load up a couple of bags of food, water
and clothes. Do it quickly. Girls, go help your mother.”

They ran inside the house, though
Harriet had a hard time prying her eyes from the wind drakes. They were getting
closer every second. The iridescent scales on the creatures’ backs shimmered in
the early morning light. The men who rode them were big, burly, and mean-looking.

“What about them?” Mr. Larue asked
in a low voice.

I tried my best to sound positive.
“Cutting away the rest of the house should make us a lot faster. Wind drakes
are fast, but they’re dealing with turbulence. They’ll have to slow down to
make up for it.”

Mr. Larue clapped a hand on my
shoulder. “I see now why my brother speaks so highly of you. You’re a quick
thinker.”

I felt myself blushing. “Commander
Larue says nice things about me?”

Mr. Larue didn’t hear me. He put
Beth to work tightening the ropes between the balloons and the observation deck
while he surveyed all the woodwork that would have to be cut.

Bazzlejet leaned out of the window
and shook his fist at the duke’s men. “Look at those cretins! Let me at em!”