The Flute Keeper's Promise (The Flute Keeper Saga) (7 page)

BOOK: The Flute Keeper's Promise (The Flute Keeper Saga)
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A chilling laugh echoed through the
forest. “Enemies? Merely name them. However they have wronged you, I can visit
vengeance upon them tenfold.”

“What would you have me do?”
Marafae asked in a breathless whisper. She leaned in close to the vine-covered
seal. “What price would I have to pay?”

“A price you were already willing
to give up,” said the voice. “Your blood.”

Marafae lifted the dagger. She
stared at it hungrily. “My blood?”

“Your blood can unlock my prison,”
said the voice. “Free me, and I will forever be your servant.”

“How?” Marafae asked. She clawed at
the vines covering the cairn.

“Find the emblem on the seal,” the
voice commanded.

Marafae tore moss and vines from the
stone slab. Using her jagged fingernails and the dagger, she moved with frantic
energy. Ages of vegetation fell away, revealing a symbol etched on the face of
the cairn. I recognized it instantly.

It was my own family crest, the
Wren’s Wings. I gasped, remembering what Garland had told me about my
ancestors.

In ancient times, the Wrens had
hunted not only magical beasts, but demons as well. They used their barrier
magic to seal the demons away in special tombs.

I realized now what lay within the
cairn. I wanted to scream at Marafae to stop, but it was only a memory. I
couldn’t undo the past.

“The Wren’s Wings are the lock,” the
voice said. “Your blood is the key. You know what you must do.”

Marafae obeyed, trancelike. She
plunged the dagger into the palm of her hand. Black droplets ran down the blade
and dripped onto the Wren family crest.

Her blood was like acid on the
stone. The slab began to bubble and smoke. Then it dissolved until there was
nothing but a large hole left. Beyond it laid the dark interior of the tomb.

The chilling laughter rang out
again. It grew louder and louder. “AT LONG LAST I AM FREE! THROUGH YOUR BLOOD I
SHALL BE REBORN INTO THE WORLD!”

The laughter became overpowering.
It drowned out all else. Marafae began to look frightened.

Suddenly the laughter changed. It
became the high-pitched crying of a baby. The piercing cries came from inside
the tomb.

Marafae took a deep breath and
reached into the tomb. Her eyes were wild with longing. Her hands brushed
something and she let out a gasp of delight.

Out of the cairn she pulled a
squirming, crying infant.

Tears sprang out on Marafae’s
cheeks. She cradled the infant in her arms. Its cries stopped.

“My baby,” Marafae said, rocking it
against her chest. “My child. I’ll never let you go. I’ll never lose you.” She
kissed the baby’s forehead.

The infant gurgled with pleasure as
it stared up at her with glinting red eyes.

Marafae was delirious with joy. “A
baby. My baby. My baby girl.”

I wanted to look away. The sight of
those red eyes gleaming from an infant’s face was sickening.

“A girl,” Marafae said as she
stroked the baby’s head lovingly. “I will call you Robyn.”

It ended. I felt a nauseating mix
of shock and horror. Knowing the truth didn’t give me any peace of mind. It
confirmed my worst fears. My ancestors had sealed Robyn away long ago, but now
she walked the world again, trailing death and destruction in her wake. Marafae’s
hate-filled blood had freed a monster.

“You!” I shouted, prying Marafae’s
hand from my wrist. “You set her loose!”

“Forgive me!” Marafae pleaded. “I
was blinded by my desires. I was consumed by hate.”

Seething anger filled me. I thought
of my father and of Hue. They would still be alive if not for Marafae’s selfish
act all those years ago. “How many people have to suffer because of you?”

Marafae pulled herself up to the
chair. Her body collapsed and she gazed up at me with weary eyes. “Many will
suffer,” she said. Her voice was growing weak. “There will be battles and many
will probably die but—” a tiny spark of something like hope showed in her face
“—I can give you a weapon.”

I suppressed my rage long enough to
ask, “What weapon?”

“Myself,” Marafae said. “I was the
key that unlocked Robyn’s tomb. With your help, I can become the key that locks
her away again.”

I didn’t understand. “How? You’re
dead.”

 “So long as Robyn lives, a part of
me does, too. She’s my blood. I gave that to her. Even though my flesh is dead,
there is still one last part of me that I can give.”

The anger began to subside. I was
perplexed by Marafae’s sincerity and her strange proposal. “A part of you?”

“My soul,” Marafae said. “Take it
before the Twi-Realm reclaims it and I can become your key.”

I thought of my Spirit Mentor. The irony
that Linaeve was Marafae’s old rival was not lost on me. I wondered if Marafae
meant for me to do the same thing with her soul as with Linaeve’s and bind it
to a tree. There were no trees on Avalon, though.

“That’s a powerful object you
have,” Marafae said.

She was looking at the dagger in my
belt.

I removed the dagger carefully. I hadn’t
handled it much since my last encounter with Robyn. It was a gift from Lev. At
one time the blade had been purest translucent blue. I had used the dagger to
drive Robyn out of Chloe’s body. The desperate act had nearly killed Chloe and
left the dagger forever marred. Now it was crimson.

“Yes,” Marafae said, her eyes
widening. Her fingers stretched towards the dagger but then she drew them back.
“I can’t. You must do it.”

“Do what?” I asked.

Marafae turned over her hand. There
was a scar on her palm. “Undo what was done. Make me into the key.”

I stared from my dagger to
Marafae’s palm. “I see.”

“Can I beg one thing of you first?”
Marafae asked. Her voice shook. What little strength she had left was seeping
away.

“What?” I asked.

“Forgive me,” Marafae said.
“Please, I beg of you. Find it in yourself.
Forgive me
.”

Marafae had suffered a terrible
past, but I could never forget the tragedy she’d brought to others. Dad’s last
smile was always lingering over my memories, reminding me of what I’d lost.


Please
,” Marafae begged.

I stared down into the face I had
hated for so long. Her eyes were all but empty. The only emotion left was pain.
I tried to put myself in her place and I had a chilling revelation.

We weren’t so different. I tried to
imagine what it would be like if everyone I cared about turned their backs on
me. The loneliness was unthinkable. Marafae’s baby was the only thing she had
left and when that was taken…

An unexpected tear rolled down my
cheek. Surprised, I wiped it away. Somehow, I had found a part of myself that
could look Marafae in the eyes and feel truly sorry.

“I forgive you,” I said as I lifted
the dagger.

A look of peace transformed Marafae’s
face. She smiled. It was the last thing I saw before I plunged the dagger into
her hand.

There was a flash of light like the
twinkle of a Pyxis Charm, but brighter. I closed my eyes. The dagger grew
heavier in my hands. There came a sound like a sigh and then all was silent.
When I opened my eyes, Marafae was gone.

No, not gone. I could feel her in
the dagger. It was a thing reborn. The light that had dimmed when I used it on
Chloe had returned, but it was different. Where before the dagger had stood for
peace and purity, it now gleamed with a blood red purpose.

“The key,” a Seraph said.

I turned to see the vaporous figure
watching me. I didn’t know when it had come into the room. I lifted the dagger
high, feeling it pulse with its new power. It was only one half of the
solution, though. “If this is the key, then where is the lock?”

“Ah,” the Seraph said. “We’ve
meddled enough—nay, far more than we should have already. Even so, I would tell
you where the lock was if we knew.”

This took me by surprise. “You mean
you don’t know how my ancestors locked Robyn away before?”

The Seraph’s silvery form grew
darker. “She has…evolved since then. The past methods of containment are no
longer strong enough, but I can tell you this: The way still lies with your ancestors.
They were far more powerful than even they realized. Beings like Robyn will
always gravitate towards that kind of power. In doing so, they create their own
prisons.”

“You mean
she’ll
create the
lock?”

The Seraph’s form grew bright
again. “You’ll know it just as you know that the dagger is the key. It is time
for you to return home, Emma Wren. You know now what created your enemy. You
have the means to destroy her.”

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

 

It was past midnight when I made
Tuari land at the bottom of the castle cliff so as not to disturb those
sleeping inside. I carried the red dagger in my belt. It was now more than just
a weapon. It
was
Marafae—all that was left of her, anyways. It was a
key. At long last I had something to use against Robyn.

I was clueless as to how my
ancestors had sealed Robyn away centuries ago. I was only one Wren. Robyn’s powers
were far greater than my own. Besides, I’d have to find her first. Robyn had a
Pyxis Charm. She could be anywhere.

I was in an odd mood as I trekked down
the path that led to the castle entrance behind the waterfall. The dark memories
of Marafae’s life haunted me, especially the face of the boy who’d broken her
heart.

King Hagan Winterwing had a dark
past, too. I’d always pictured him as a heroic figure who tried to liberate the
Slaugh from an age of violence. He had sought diplomacy with the Fay and tried
to give his people books and art.

He had also been a cold-hearted jerk.
I thought of my Spirit Mentor. What would Linaeve say if she knew? Did she have
any idea? Would she still have given up her life at Ivywild if she’d known what
Hagan had done?

Perhaps none of it mattered now,
but one thing still bugged me. Hagan looked remarkably like Lev. It made me
question all the things Lev left unspoken. Could he possibly be King Hagan’s
son?

I wanted to believe that he’d have
told me something that big before now. If he was Hagan’s son, that meant he was
a prince—no, a king. There was nobody else left who could claim the Slaugh
throne.

“That’s crazy,” I mumbled to
myself. Surely he’d have told me. Maybe I just thought about him too much and
it made me see his face everywhere. I would just have to ask him. The idea
scared me. What if he said yes?

I shivered. If Lev was the king’s
son that would mean he’d lied about lots of things. It would mean that his name
wasn’t really Lev Hartwig. That was just impossible. He was Lev. He’d always be
Lev. He couldn’t be anyone else.

The night air hung damp and chilly
in my clothes. I was still some distance from the castle cliff. I caught the
buzz of Pixies in the tall grass. Somewhere a cusith hound howled at the moon.
The sounds were familiar and should have been comforting, but I couldn’t shake
my sense of unease.

A crowd of outlanders was camped at
the base of the cliff. I walked past them, trying to not meet any of their eyes.
These were the hard-working Fay of farms and villages. Many of them had small
children. They didn’t lead pampered lives like Ivywild’s citizens and their
magic wasn’t nearly as cultivated. With all the rumors and the very real threat
of Robyn out there, it was no wonder they wanted the protection of Ivywild’s
walls.

Though most of the outlanders were
asleep in tents, a few persistent pilgrims badgered the doorman.

“Come on, let us in! We’ve come all
the way from Ballyhoo Bay!” shouted one emphatic fisherman. A meek looking
woman and a little girl stood behind him.

The doorman regarded them with a
sideways glance. His job was to keep the door leading into the cliff sealed. He
took it very seriously, holding his crystal scepter like a sword at his side.

“No more entries until morning!”
the doorman said.

Chloe must have finally put her
foot down. I kept my head low and made sure my hair was covering my ears. It
wouldn’t do for me to go barging to the front of the line.

“What is this tripe?” the fisherman
asked. “It’s not safe out here! My uncle Samus said his first mate Jeb’s
half-sister Gertie disappeared while out for a stroll.”

“I don’t care what your Uncle
Whatshisface saw,” the doorman said. “Everyone must wait until morning.
Princess’s orders.”

“Bah!” the fisherman exclaimed.
“Who’re you going to listen to? Uncle Samus said he heard that Princess Chloe
stays out all night drinking with Hobgoblins. Me, I’m going with the Seelie
Court!”

“Did you hear how skinny she was at
her public address?” piped up a rotund woman. “Who knows what strange curses
she’s brought upon herself?”

“I heard she courts a different boy
every day,” said the fisherman’s wife in a girlish whisper. “And you know she
hangs out with the
hybrid
girl.”

“Oh, you mean the Flute Keeper,”
said the other lady with an indulgent smirk. “You won’t believe what my cousin,
Bess, says about her! Bess runs the bread stand up in the market. That’s who
I’m going to live with. She says the Flute Keeper is seeing this awful
Slaugh
boy. She said you can see him flying up to her balcony every night!”

The fisherman’s wife squealed. “A Slaugh!
But I thought they were all gone! Good grief, I don’t know if I want to go up
there now!” She patted her little daughter on the head. “I can’t subject Mindy
to such scandalous behavior!”

I had heard enough. I elbowed my
way up to the doorman. “It’s me,” I whispered, keeping my head low.

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