Brightly (Flicker #2) (6 page)

“If I’d known the charms did
that,
” Lee marveled, “I would’ve kissed Juliet myself!”

Filo grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Alice asked, from the other end of the park bench. She was folding a delicate origami hummingbird from a square of fuchsia paper. “I’m starving.”

“One sec.” Lee didn’t look up, just kept sketching the punk boy with the scarlet Mohawk who’d walked past them a few minutes ago. She had to get this sketch down before she forgot the details, like the tattoo winding up from his collarbone and around his throat—a pattern of stars—or the exact angle of his nose.

She and Filo had split up half an hour ago, when Lee went to pick up an order of manticore quills from Snapdragons. She’d run into Alice on her way back, and they’d agreed to take their time getting back to Flicker.

“Where do you want to go?” Lee asked, a minute later, as she stuffed her sketchbook into her backpack. She had enough details retained that she could finish the sketch later. “Ladders?”

“Might as well.”

They started along the concrete path, weaving around cyclists and joggers, past bubbling fountains. A group of college-aged guys played Frisbee in the grass, shouting and body-checking each other.

From the corner of her eye, Lee saw something flash—something large and green, moving through the shade. She turned her head. A huge gray dog was padding silently across the grass, head bent low, and Lee watched it for a moment, a strange prickling sensation crawling up her back.

“Alice,” she said quietly, touching the other girl’s arm. Lee stopped walking and reached into her shorts pocket. The moment her skin touched the wooden locket stowed there, the glamour over the dog dissolved away.

Now she saw another creature entirely: a massive hound with shaggy green fur that looked almost like matted grass, and a long, curling tail.

“What is that?” Alice asked, squinting at the hound.

“I saw some of them before we left the Market last night, tied up outside a tent,” Lee breathed. “That one must’ve gotten loose. Nasser said it’s a faerie hunting dog—a
cu sith
.”

Beside her, Alice flinched. “
Lee
,” she said harshly. “Don’t say—”

But Lee already realized what she’d done.

At the sound of its name, the cu sith froze in its tracks. Slowly it turned its great, shaggy head toward Lee, and its lips drew back, revealing yellowed fangs. Lee’s heart contracted as the cu sith’s dark red eyes met hers, hard and narrow.

She knew better than to speak the names of faeries in the open air; it attracted their attention. But she hadn’t been thinking. The words had just slipped out.

“Back away from me,” Lee whispered. This was a hunting dog, she thought. It had been prowling for prey, for something to chase, and she’d just given it a target. Already her heart was beating faster. “Slowly.”

“Lee—”

“Do it
now.
”

Lee was still staring right in the cu sith’s eyes as Alice edged away. That was probably making it angry—Lee was sure Filo had warned her in the past about looking faeries in the eye—but at least it was focused on Lee, and not Alice, or any of the people in the park.

A rumbling growl ripped its way up the cu sith’s throat, and Lee’s blood turned to ice, freezing her in place. The hound’s eyes were hypnotic, glowing red as it lowered itself, preparing to spring—

“Lee!” Alice cried, the sound of her voice snapping Lee back to the present. “Run!”
She ran.

The park became a blur of sunlight and green leaves on either side of her. She felt the glances of the humans she darted past, but they only saw a girl running from a big gray dog.

Blood roared in her ears as she sprinted past a fountain and veered widely around an old oak tree. Though she couldn’t hear the cu sith behind her—it was unnaturally silent—she felt a terrible heat against her back that she knew was the hound’s eyes.

From the corner of her eye, Lee saw the cu sith twist its route to follow her, massive paws propelling it, fast enough to head her off. Lungs burning, Lee pushed herself harder, but she could only run so fast, and she could still see the cu sith: silent, calm, and faster than Lee.

The cu sith let out a tremendous bay that turned Lee’s legs to water. They went limp beneath her, and she pitched forward, skidding against the ground. Dazed, she struggled to stand—but another booming bark sounded, and her arms were shaking so hard that the best she could do was roll onto her back. The cu sith’s magic was vibrating in her bones, scuttling along her skin like insects, and she was twisting on the grass, unable to make her body cooperate.

Somewhere behind her, Alice was screaming Lee’s name.

The cu sith bounded toward her, and a second later, the massive hound had landed, its paws placed squarely around Lee like pillars, its eyes bright as blood, pinning her in place. The cu sith’s jaws snapped open, a third bark rising from its throat—

And a loud whistle sliced through the air, followed by a series of whoops and claps, like someone calling a dog.

“Hey hey hey hey!” shouted a voice, so rapidly that the words ran together, and the cu sith froze in mid-snarl, teeth still bared. “Right here right here right here!”

Footsteps pounded the grass; a figure stood over Lee, turned to shadow by the sun, speaking in low tones. Lee thought she could feel some kind of magic in the air, a different glamour, but she was dizzy, and her heart was beating like it would break her ribs, and the cu sith was still staring down at her.

Slowly the cu sith seemed to relax, until finally, it backed away from Lee, step by step. The moment the creature’s eyes were off her and she could no longer feel its hot breath against her face, Lee’s limbs felt like they belonged to her again. She lay perfectly still, gasping.

“Lee?” Alice was standing just behind Lee, a short-bladed knife clutched in her hand, pointed toward the cu sith. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Lee panted, propping herself up on her elbows.

A boy stood beside the cu sith, about her age, maybe seventeen. His brown skin and thick dark hair contrasted intriguingly with his green eyes—but she was struck most by the way his hand rested on the cu sith’s head, casually, like it was a dog brought to heel.

“Are you okay?” the boy asked.

“I…” Lee tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry, magic still clinging to her. Didn’t this boy know what he was standing next to?

“Get away from that dog,” Alice told him firmly. “It’s dangerous.”

Before he could answer, two teenagers dashed up to them, a boy and a girl. The girl was tall and tanned, dressed in an orange tank top and cutoff shorts. Her white-blond hair was drawn up into a messy bun, the strands shining in the sunlight; her blue eyes were bright and focused.

The boy was long and lanky. He was Asian, with close-cropped black hair, lively dark eyes and light brown freckles that dusted across the bridge of his nose and over his upper arms, partially hidden by the striped tank top he wore. A bracelet of little shells hung on each of his wrists.

“I’m so sorry about our dog,” the girl gushed, bending over Lee. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? He broke free of his leash, and he gets so excited sometimes, I’m sure he was just trying to play with you…”

As the girl babbled, Lee could feel her pushing magic into the air: glamour, the kind Filo used when he needed normals to relax and accept something they shouldn’t have seen without question. The kind of magic that Lee’s necklace protected her from.

Lee stared. The three strangers looked perfectly human, but the girl was definitely trying to enchant them, and the green-eyed boy was petting the cu sith absently.

“You’re not holding a leash,” Lee managed finally, and the girl blinked.

“What?” she asked.

Before she answered, Lee stood. Still hyperaware of the cu sith just feet from her, she stepped backward until she was shoulder-to-shoulder with Alice. “You said that’s your dog, but it’s not wearing a collar, you don’t have a leash—and you’re pushing glamour at us like you think we’re normals. What are you?”

The black-haired boy cleared his throat. “What kind of question is that?”

Alice spoke clearly, her eyes narrow, and Lee didn’t miss how she shifted the knife in her grip. “Are you human or fey or what?”

“Look, Henry just saved you from
that,
” the girl growled, jerking her chin toward the cu sith, which was sitting perfectly still. “If he hadn’t spotted it and come running, your friend here probably wouldn’t have a throat right now. So you can put the knife away.”

“Answer me honestly, and I will,” Alice replied calmly. “I’d like to know what I’m dealing with. So far, all I know for sure is
that
is no dog.”

“We’re human,” said the black-haired boy, raising his hands in a placating gesture. His voice was soft. “Through and through. And I’m guessing you are, too.”

“Do you know what that is?” Alice asked. “That
dog
? Do you actually know
?”

“Yes.” The green-eyed boy, whom the girl had called Henry, moved his hand from the cu sith’s head to its scruff. “It’s a faerie dog. A cu sith.”

The creature’s eyes narrowed, but Henry squeezed its scruff slightly, and Lee felt a brief pulse of magic settle over it. The cu sith relaxed.

“And how do you know that?”

“Because we have the Second Sight,” the girl said flatly. “We know a faery when we see one. So do you.” She cocked her head slightly, but her eyes were hard and evaluating. “Right?”

With a little sigh, Alice pocked the knife. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” She glanced up. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here.”

The green-eyed boy smiled faintly, but it was hard not to see him with a slight edge of danger—at least, not as long as he stood there petting the cu sith. He was controlling it, somehow, Lee thought, with some magic.

“I’m Henry,” he said. “This is Clementine and Davis. We’re, uh…. Well, we’re looking for something, and I think you might be able to help us out. Maybe return the favor?” He glanced pointedly toward the cu sith.

Alice raised an eyebrow, silent.

“We’re trying to find a shop called Flicker,” Davis said, “and some Sighted humans who are supposed to work there. Some Seers. We’ve got business to discuss.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Think you can help us out?”

They couldn’t go straight to Flicker, not with the cu sith in tow—but Alice had a way around that.

“Conall will know what to do with it,” Alice had said, as she knotted a length of flexible rope around the cu sith’s neck. The hound looked murderous, but Henry’s hand never left it, and it didn’t even growl. “Conall always knows what to do.”

Henry let Alice hold the rope as they made their way to Sandpiper, the little apothecary where Alice worked, but he kept his hand on the cu sith’s head the whole way. Lee wanted to ask him how he was keeping it so calm, but this didn’t seem like the right time. The group spoke little, and the three strangers wouldn’t elaborate on what they wanted from the Seers of Flicker.

“We’ll discuss it in private,” Clementine had said, her voice firm and definitive. “Not out here where anybody could hear us.”

Sandpiper was cool and dimly-lit, a relief from the harsh sunlight outside. The scent of herbs filled the air. Bottles and jars filled with jewel-colored potions lined the shelves, and the tables were covered in bundles of dried leaves and roots, as well as paper packets, all labeled in thin, beautiful handwriting:
Memory powder. Luck dust. Star shine—for light in dark places.

The cu sith’s claws clicked against the wooden floor with each step, but otherwise, the shop was silent. A door at the rear of the shop swung open and Conall appeared, wearing an apron dusted in shimmering powders and splashed with dark liquids. He must’ve been at work on his potions. Alice always said Conall was an adventurous potion-maker, and his workroom was a veritable riot of bubbling experiments, a stark contrast to his tidy shop.

Conall was a large man, broad-shouldered and dark-eyed, with the strong hands of a carpenter or a knight. A pair of short horns curled back from his temples. Conall was even-tempered and gentle, but Lee knew that a great power slumbered inside him, an ancient one. Even when he kept it in check, she could feel the magic flowing from him.

“Have you a new pet, Alice?” Conall asked, glancing at the cu sith. He nodded politely to Lee, who bowed shallowly in return, but he didn’t acknowledge the others.

Alice flushed a little. “No. We found it wandering in the park. I think it belonged to one of the vendors at the Goblin Market, but it must’ve escaped. We didn’t know what to do with it.”

“It is good you brought the creature to me,” Conall said as he approached them. He moved with a strange grace, like a predator striding through tall grass, his footfalls silent. “A beast like this should not roam the city.”

Conall crouched before the cu sith, cupping the hound’s muzzle in one hand and gazing directly into its eyes. Henry’s hand never moved from the cu sith’s scruff.