It had been a few days since Sabrina went missing, and although finding my wand had indeed lifted Maude and Tanker’s spirits, it had failed to negate the truth: something sinister was going on beneath the already infected surface of Garlandia, and every time I walked past Herbert’s statue I was reminded of that fact.
“What could the king be doing with Ardeen faeries?” Tanker had said to Maude the night before last, only after they’d thought I’d gone to bed. Apparently, it didn’t matter if it was my birth or adoptive parents—I wasn’t going to get any answers unless I eavesdropped.
“I have no idea,” Maude had returned. “It just doesn’t make any sense—and Sabrina was on the council. I mean, you don’t think—”
“That he’s trying to get rid of the council altogether? Wouldn’t surprise me. Perhaps he no longer needs a guise.”
There was a small bout of silence before Maude replied, “I realize King Loral has never respected those of us living in the trees, but would he really go so far as to begin killing us off?”
“It’s not like he hasn’t tried that before.”
“I suppose he could be going after the council members,” Maude said, “but that still doesn’t explain the rest of the missing Ardeens.”
I hadn’t gotten much more from that conversation, other than the fact that the king was more dangerous than I could ever have imagined. Upon hearing of the council when I first arrived, I thought perhaps Garlandia was governed by a democracy, but the longer I stayed, the clearer it became. The king was a dictator, and the council was only for show. If only I could’ve gotten more information out of Helene, but even she was shallow on handing out details.
Maude and Tanker had been extremely preoccupied with the neighborhood watch over the next few days and had little time to spend with me. They apologized profusely, but it was fine; I needed the extra time to concentrate on learning to call on my dust. Helene had been right, in times like these I really needed to know how to defend myself, and typical of my character I’d skipped ahead. I had figured out how to summon my wand, but not my dust, and one was useless without the other.
Against Helene’s demands that I discontinue my sleuthing, I went ahead and decided to survey Cathy over a late lunch. Staking out a table close to the kitchen, I ordered a plate of jambalaya and folded my hands over the table, nodding in the direction of two giggling Ardeens who were finishing up with a food fight.
“Here ya go, dear.” Cathy panted as she laid down my food.
“Thanks Cathy. Hey,” I said casually, “it looks like I’m the last customer. You should grab a plate and keep me company.”
Her dancing eye bounced from my nose to my shoulder and towards the door. “Oh, why not.” Then staring at the Ardeens covered in spicy sauce, she hollered out, “You best be licking all that up when you’re finished!” She shook her head and mumbled under her breath, “Filthy little pests.” She pulled out a chair and sat down, a plate materializing in front of her. “Thanks for having me sit with you, I forget to slow down sometimes.”
I forced a smile, her ‘pest’ comment now on my radar. “I would think you should know how to slow down—you’re retired, aren’t you?”
She laid her hands flat on the table and stared at me with her foggy eye. I got the sinking suspicion that she was searching me over. “You’re an interesting specimen, aren’t you? Not very faery-like, minus those wings behind your back.” She pointed at them with a fork in her hand—a fork!
“Hey! I thought you didn’t have any food weapons.”
“This? Of course, I do. Witches and wizards don’t like to get their hands dirty.”
“I don’t like to get my hands dirty, either.”
Cathy paused, she’d speared a shrimp with her fork and was about to put it in her mouth. She seemed to entertain my justification for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders and taking a bite. Next thing I knew there was a flash of silver next to my plate and I looked down to find a fork.
I smiled in gratitude. “Thanks.”
She shrugged her shoulders again.
“So, I heard you used to work for the king.”
She stopped mid chew.
“Who told you that?”
I took the fork in my hand and shoveled some red sauce with sausage onto it. “I can’t remember, I think it just kind of came up. I was curious what it was like, though—working in the castle.”
“Ah,” she nodded, chewing on a large bite.
When she didn’t offer any other explanation, I pushed a little harder. “So uh, did you know him very well? The king, that is.”
“I suppose. One begins to get to know someone quite well when they are cooking for them. King Loral was always a bit guarded—well” —she got a funny look on her face— “you know, I just don’t remember that much about him, or being there at all for that matter.”
I furrowed my brow, ignoring the heat enveloping my entire mouth from the bite of food I’d just taken. “How can you not remember?”
She scraped her fork along her empty plate. She’d finished her meal in about three bites. “I don’t know.” She grabbed a napkin from her lap—one I hadn’t seen before she’d sat down—and dabbed the corners of her mouth. “I just don’t.”
“How many years did you work there?”
She scratched the inside of her ear and turned her cloudy eye to the ceiling. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe twenty, fifty, a hundred years or so.”
That was a wide range. “And you don’t remember being there?” Something was definitely off about that.
“Not really. I remember cooking in the kitchen, and blurbs here and again, but not much else.” She stood, signaling to my fork. “Keep that. A gift for letting an old witch eat lunch with you. I don’t get much company these days, I’m afraid.”
“Wait,” I said, holding out my arm in an attempt to delay her departure. “Um, did you like the king? While you worked for him—was he a descent employer?”
Once more she got a wonky look on her face, and after a moment, nodded her head. “Yes. I believe so . . . but like I said, it’s all a bit foggy.” Then she turned and walked away, leaving me completely unsatisfied.
Why couldn’t she remember? She could just be old—or the king had her under some sort of spell. Perhaps he was using her to do his bidding, to collect Ardeens and dispose of their bodies. A whole lot of assumptions that would have been easier to connect if I had even the vaguest idea of what King Loral was actually like.
The forkful of food lingered before my mouth as my mind jutted to the darkest of places. I wondered, how could Cathy be disposing of the Ardeen bodies if it was in fact her who was doing the abductions? Suddenly the bite seemed repulsive.
I looked up at the Ardeens now licking themselves off from their food fight.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Makayla,” I muttered to myself. But I still decided not to finish my lunch.
I needed to get back to my faery education, so after that I returned to my special spot in the woods. I was surrounded by the usual audience of forest creatures, trees, and plant life; and I was currently flicking my wand around in the air aimlessly, trying to conjure up even the faintest of sparkles.
“I see a yellow one!” a Sheridan faery passing by yelled.
“Really?”
“No, but I made you look!”
“Stupid little Sheridans,” I grumbled, dropping to the ground and pulling out my notebook.
I still only had two colors listed and was without an explanation for blue. I’d seen blue twice and both times had been with Helene. I set the tip of my pencil against the paper and wrote, “Adrenaline?”
After that I flipped to the middle of the book, to where I’d written down the names Titania and Gaia. Without hesitation, I wrote down Cathy and King Loral’s names with a question mark, then made note of the missing faeries and frozen Garlandians. I needed to figure out how these hideous acts were related, and after speaking with Cathy, I was more convinced than ever that she was somehow involved. If she wasn’t, I had to imagine there was something in her memory bank covered up by old age that could somehow point to a finding.
Helene had insinuated that the king was trying to get rid of the Ardeens because they were the easiest to capture. Because we had magic that he couldn’t compete with.
Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by a rustling through the trees. I looked up just in time to see all the animals jet off in different directions, and the flowers and trees close their eyes as though they were asleep.
I closed my notepad and tucked it into my pocket before pulling out my wand—even though I didn’t know how to use it—and held it confidently in front of me. I didn’t have to wait long until I heard a familiar voice yelling at someone to go ahead and that he would catch up. My heartbeat immediately picked up. It was Sir Toby, and as soon as our eyes met, he froze.
“Makayla.”
“Toby,” I answered, lowering my wand. I thought Helene had said he’d been sent away.
Staring at me for a few seconds more before relaxing his shoulders, he asked, “Haven’t seen Petal, have you?”
“Petal?”
“Sorry, you wouldn’t know. She’s my horse. A spunky white mare.”
“No, I’m afraid I haven’t. When did you last see her?”
He hesitated for a moment before starting towards me—his white boots crunching over pinecones and fallen branches. He was still wearing that ridiculous cape.
“About an hour ago,” he said.
“That long?”
“Don’t worry, she always comes back. She does this when I’m out with Rally for a long time—doesn’t really care for him. Also, she likes to lead, and since Rally is supposed to guard me, we always end up in the back. She’ll return as soon as he has gotten further enough away.”
I smirked. I couldn’t quite tell him, but I agreed with Petal on that one. I didn’t need to get to know Rally to understand that the two of us would never get along. One doesn’t tend to make friends with those who spit at their feet.
“I see,” I said, instead of all that.
Toby looked down at my wand and raised his eyebrows. “I see you are getting closer to acknowledging your magic. Have you found your dust yet, Miss Makayla?”
“Not yet.” I suddenly realized how close he’d gotten to me. He smelled woodsy, and like incense. The scent caused me to feel slightly light-headed, and I could’ve sworn the air around us was beginning to glisten as though it were wet.
“I hope my question wasn’t too forward, but ever since your arrival the entire kingdom has been talking about your progress from human into faery again.” Very slowly, he lifted a hand to my cheek, causing my chest to rise too quickly. “You’ve gotten some sun, though, being out here.” The corners of his mouth turned up as he said the words, brushing my skin with the back of his knuckles. “A bit red.” Then, as though he’d just realized he was touching me, he immediately dropped his hand away.
I stumbled over my next words. “Yes. The sun. That’s why they’re red.”
The silence quickly grew thick between us, along with another form of energy I wasn’t accustomed to feeling every day. I found myself searching for something to say to break the ice, but there was only one thing I was really good at . . . being a businesswoman and all.
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking down at my proffered hand.
I looked down. I hadn’t even realized I’d extended it.
Feeling even more blood rushing to my face, I tried to make sense of my bizarre behavior in faery land. “I—well, it’s just occurred to me that the way we were introduced was a bit strange, and where I come from—”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard of this. Faeries and elves all over the kingdom are doing it—introducing themselves the human way.” And then he slapped my hand before leaning forward. “Go on, then.”
It was clear this false handshake had become a sort of endearing activity to the creatures of Garlandia. Even though I felt like it was wrong on several levels, I hesitated for only a second before slapping his face.
“Sorry,” I said automatically.
He reached up and rubbed his cheek, a funny smile forming along the lines of his cherry lips. “Why are you sorry? I thought that was kind of fun.”
Still, I held onto my slapping hand with the other as though it was now in jeopardy of being sliced off. “You haven’t ever been to the human world, have you?”
“No. I’ve been under my uncle’s care since I was very young, and before that I lived with my parents in Cavita.” He pronounced the name of the village with a strange accent. “Uncle has kept me quite busy traveling all over the country since the moment I arrived here. In fact, I’m supposed to be over the other side of mountain right now, but Rally’s been covering for me. He tells the old goat we’re on these lengthy trips, when really we’re out fishing in the next village.”
“Because the fish here are intellectuals?” I asked, unsure of where the question came from.
“Yes.”
God, his grin was catching.
Studying his lips, I asked, “Where is Cavita?”
He took a deep breath and searched the sky, before pointing northeast. “Very far away, in that direction.”
“And why is your uncle raising you—I’m sorry, that was incredibly forward of me,” I said, realizing that must have meant his parents were dead.
He studied me only for a second before responding. “Forgive me, but you don’t come across as someone who apologizes for being forward.”
I blushed. “Normally I don’t.”
He remained still, his posture elegantly refined. “A baby dragon came into our village and destroyed nearly everything and everyone. I was the only survivor. King Loral had no choice but to take me in; and since my mother, his sister and the last of his siblings, died, I became the next heir.”
“Your mother was the next in line? But she didn’t live here—I mean, I’m so sorry about your parents.”
Toby stalled, studying me, his expression unwavering. “It’s okay, death is only of the body—and yes, my parents moved away before I was born. Pardon me for asking, but you seem very curious about my uncle. From what I’ve heard, you want nothing more than to return to where you came from, so why do you care?”
“Words do travel fast here, don’t they?”
“Trees aren’t known for keeping secrets.”
I glanced at a cedar tree and caught it with one eye open—until it saw me looking, at which point it crammed it shut again.
“Okay fine. I’m interested in King Loral because there are quite a few things around here that seem suspicious to me. You see, back home I was working towards being a lawyer—”
“What’s that?”
No kidding. They didn’t have lawyers in Garlandia, they had executioners. “It’s someone who stands up for what they believe in. Doing service for others and bringing justice to where it’s needed.”
His expression slowly began to harden. “Justice?”
“Yes.” My breath shortened as he moved in closer to me. “I’m sorry Sir Toby, but I can’t just watch a talking frog get turned to stone for expressing his opinion and sit back as Ardeen faeries get abducted left and right.”
“Now hold on just a second, my uncle swears up and down that he has nothing to do with the abductions.”
“Does he say the same about the statues?” I asked, without missing a beat.
He paused, mulling over my pointed question.
Unwilling to hold back, I took a chance. “Where I come from, there is this thing called free speech. It seems my friend Herbert was turned to stone after the mere mention of Tita—”
Wrapping an arm around my waist, Toby pulled me into him and covered my mouth with his hand before I could finish saying the name. “We do not say it out loud,” he whispered.
I teetered on my feet, somewhere between light-headed from his embrace and jolted from his reaction.
He removed his hand from my mouth, his eyes diving inside mine as I exhaled my next words. “Then he was punished for saying her name?”
I took it from his silence that I was correct.
“And if I were to say her name, I would also be turned to stone?”
“He can’t hear you right now—I’ve put up charms.” He gestured to the twinkling sunbeams and glistening shadows. “But you should know it is illegal to speak of the goddess’s daughter. King Loral fancies himself the only higher power you ever need to follow or know about.”
I scoffed. “You’re messing with me, right?”
Toby’s arms were still around me, and without my permission my knees began to weaken.
He tweaked his neck to the side, looking at me inquisitively. “Messing with you?”
“It’s an expression.”
“Oh, right,” he said, still trying to sort out the words. After giving up on figuring out what I’d meant he lowered his mouth so that his lips were close to my ear. Once more, I took too quick of a breath. “Listen to me, Makayla. I realize this world is much different than the one you came from, but please do try to keep your head down, and don’t lift veils where they don’t need to be lifted. Not yet.”
“But what if they need to be lifted? Wait—what do you mean by not yet?”
He pulled away just enough to peer directly at me, and as he did, I could hear my heart beating in my ears.
“It is all about timing. If you provoke the king now it will only destroy your path. Your impatience isn’t worth giving your life. Don’t you see that?”
I frowned. “No, I don’t see that. Every moment that we stand aside, another innocent life might be ended unfairly.”
“We aren’t standing by. We are waiting until the time is right.”
“What are you saying?”
His tightened expression slowly melted. “It’s all in one’s heart.”
I continued to gawk at him. “Can’t you just speak plainly? Where exactly do you stand in this world? You are Loral’s nephew, his heir—not to mention an elf, and elves aren’t supposed to care about faeries.”
I may not have had a lot of education in this area, but I was pretty sure acquaintances, or even friends, didn’t hold one another the way he’d held me.
His gaze was relentless, so deep into the ocean were his eyes as they dove into mine. And as they continued to soften, I felt his thumb begin to stroke my cheek.
“We are different, Makayla, but that doesn’t mean we should be apart. Elves see things differently than faeries. Your kind sees the sky, we see the earth. The first time I saw you I knew at once—you see both. You are the sunbeam on the forest floor, as well as the warmth between the chilly winds crossing through the deadened leaves in autumn. You are a reminder of what could be.”
A very light breath escaped my parted lips.
“I must tell you something, Makayla Wood.”
“What’s that?” I questioned quietly, suddenly not caring that he was talking in circles instead of answering me directly.
“Before my mother died, she used to tell me stories to put me to sleep at night. She often spoke of an Aeronian elf boy who one day met a faery with hair as fiery as her soul, adorning wings so beautiful they had to have belonged to a goddess. This untamed beauty saw not the body—for when she fell in love, she fell in love with the soul. The faery had the boy’s heart before it ever beat, and the boy knew when he met her that one day the tear that had ripped them apart lifetimes ago, would be once more sealed together.”
“Lifetimes ago . . .”
“Yes.”
I opened my mouth to try and compete with whatever it was he’d just said, but he placed his thumb over my lips so I couldn’t speak.
“If you must lift veils, Makayla Wood of the Erwain descent, do not do it without your magic. You are still too human to understand what you’re up against.”
His thumb slipped away and I whispered, “Why do you care?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.” The word rode along the wisps of my breath.
The corners of his lips turned upwards. “I’ve been preparing for this moment since I returned to the kingdom. I’ve always known that at some point I would meet my faery with goddess-like wings, and yet when I first saw you a moment ago, I almost didn’t near you—do you know why?”
I furrowed my brow and shook my head, frustratingly confused.
“One day you will.”
What the hell? “Nothing you are saying is making sense.”
“Of course it is. And when the time comes, you’ll remember, and you will know.”
My lips parted as I remembered how I’d felt when I’d first seen his face. Like I’d known his eyes before. In another time; in another body.
Still, I shook my head at him. “How do you know your mother was referring to me?”
“I know,” he said, staring at the white star on my upper left wing, my birthmark.
A warm breeze ran over my heart, and then it happened—as he looked into my eyes, I felt his soul, like a warm fire on a cold night—and in an instant, an explosion of red faery dust occurred. Like it was actually leaving my heart from a vessel I never knew existed, it streamed out from my chest and flew up into the air, dropping down and circling around our shoulders.
My mouth opened in awe as I stared around at the shimmering dust. Toby tried to follow my gaze, but it seemed he couldn’t see it. But then, of course, why would he? Faeries showed their dust to others when they wanted them to see it, and as of right now, I didn’t want him to know how I felt—anymore than he could already see.
Gathering my wits, I backed away, forcing his arms to fall away. “I think your mother was just telling you a bedtime story, and because you miss her very much, you’ve put too much stock into what was clearly a fairytale.”
Toby studied me for a moment, smirking as he began to back away. “It was a faery tale, and you are exactly how I thought you would be.”
“You’ve only just met me. You don’t know me at all, Sir Toby.”
He climbed over a rock and pulled a branch up out of his way as he started back through the forest. “I should be getting back to finding Petal.”
“Just like that—you’re leaving? What if I have more questions for you?”
“Ask them of me tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes. And the charm is lifting now, so please, do watch what you say, my lost little Erwain.”
“Your lost little Erwain?” I repeated, but he refused to answer me, simply bowing out and disappearing through the brush the same way he’d appeared. Somehow, though, in a very uncharacteristic way, I wasn’t appalled, nor was I upset that he had labeled me as his. In fact, I kind of liked it.
I walked home that evening with red dust trailing behind my useless wings. I couldn’t yet fly, but I felt like was floating over the cobblestone walkway.
When I reentered the Abberwockey home that night, Maude and Tanker were already gathered around plates full of spinach and strawberries. There was a plate sat for me, but I simply looked down at it and shook my head.
“I’m not really hungry.”
Tanker frowned and tossed a large golden earring elegantly over his shoulder. “Is everything all right? You’re quite flushed.”
“Oh dear,” Maude cooed, “you aren’t coming down with that bug going around are you?”
Tanker gave her a destressed look. “What bug?”
“The Garth pack—you know, those blue and black striped bugs from the other village—they’re getting into people’s stomachs and making them so very ill.”
My dolly look washed away. “No, I don’t have bugs in my stomach. I just—I don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”
And then I leaned down and kissed Tanker’s head, then Maude’s before heading to my bedroom, not paying mind to the odd expressions on their faces.
“She’s acting very strange, our daughter,” I heard Tanker say as I started up the stairs.
“Almost like a young fey in love,” echoed Maude.
There were no words said after that.