Call of Brindelier (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 3) (39 page)

BOOK: Call of Brindelier (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 3)
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“Margy,” I whisper after her crying seems to have stopped. She pulls away just enough to look up at me. Her cheeks are stained with dirt and tears. Her wide eyes are rimmed with red. “We got two,” I whisper to her. “We only need one more to open the gate.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just looks at me. Looks closely at my face. My cheeks burn. I think I should look away, but I don’t. I can’t. At first, I’m ashamed. Maybe it was insensitive. Maybe I shouldn’t be talking about the offerings so soon after she lost her father.

“Can I see?” she whispers without looking away. I pull the bottle from my pouch and hold it between us. Its light spills over us both as she reaches to touch it. I hesitate, remembering the shock it sent through me in the keep, but it has no reaction as she puts her hand over it. That spell has been spent. Her fingers graze mine, warm and soft. “It’s beautiful,” she says. “Can you feel it?”

I look away from the bottle back to her, and it’s like I’m seeing her for the first time. Not as Margy, my friend, but as the princess. The young woman who will be queen. One day, she’ll be the most beautiful woman in the Known Lands. To me, she already is. I try to explain it to myself. Try to feel the magic or the spell that’s making me think this way. There isn’t one, though. She’s not doing anything. Neither is the bottle. These are my own, true feelings. I try hard to make sense of them. Slowly, I nod.

“I do,” I say quietly. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“Stay with me,” she whispers. “When I go back to Cerion, through the Rites of Vigil. Please? Stay with me.”

“The Rites of Vigil?” I ask, and she hushes me and pulls me to the far side of the bush, away from the others who are still sleeping.

“In Cerion, the Rites last one day for each year of reign. Paba was in his twenty-sixth year. As his successor, it’s my duty to keep vigil over his pyre for twenty-six days, to honor his reign. Mum will be there sometimes, and Sara toward the end, but I’m allowed to choose someone to stay with me. Someone who supports me. It would mean so much if it was you, Tib,” she whispers tearfully.

“Twenty-six days?” I murmur in disbelief. I think about the Dusk, the offerings, the archway that only I can see. I think of the Sorcerers and the Void. They have one now. They need two more, and they need to be able to see where to go. It might take them that long to get what they need. But then, there’s Eron. He’ll be ready by then, for sure. I wouldn’t be able to try to save Errie again. I’d have to sit and wait and do nothing and trust that Azi and Rian can do it without me.

“Tib?” Margy whispers, looking up at me again. She takes her hand away from the offering. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked you that. It was selfish of me.” She tries to move away, but I hold her closer.

“Of course I will,” I whisper. “I’ll stay with you, Princess.”

“Margy,” she whispers.

“Margy,” I sigh into her brown curls.

Chapter Forty: Kythshire’s Offering

Azi
 

“The elves came back,” Rian says quietly. “They caught three of them, but they swear there was a fourth. They said the one who got away was dressed in black, and had a patch over his right eye.”

“That assassin from Maisie’s house,” I whisper. Rian nods. “So it was definitely the Dusk. What else?”

“His Majesty,” Rian clears his throat, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. “They’re readying him for the Rites. We need to get Her Highness back to Cerion.”

I nod, and we stand in silence for a long time. A soft breeze whispers through the leaves of the forest. Fairy orbs drift past, just like any other night in Kythshire. Nothing has changed for them. For us, our world is collapsing. My mind is swirling with thoughts of what will happen to His Majesty’s Elite now that His Majesty is gone. I can’t fathom Cerion without Tirnon’s steady hand to guide it. I can’t shake the feeling that with his death, a golden age has ended. All of these thoughts were coursing through my mind when others went to bed, and they’re the reason why I kept watch instead of trying to sleep.

Rian moves closer to me and takes me in his arms, and I rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

“Tib got the second offering,” Rian says softly. “We just need one more for entry.”

“It’s not the time,” I start, but Rian stops me with a hand on my cheek.

“It is the time, Azi. If what’s coming is as bad as they say, then we need to press on and secure Brindelier for Cerion. Because if the Dusk claims it first, there won’t be a Cerion anymore.” I know he’s right.

“Where’s Shush?” I ask, eager to change the subject. I already know the stakes, and I can’t bear to dwell on them.

“He stayed in Cerion,” Rian replies. “He’s shown me a new skill. A link. It’s weak now, but it’ll be stronger when we become Ili’luvrie.”

“When?” Not if?” I ask, surprised by his change of heart.

“Most likely it’s a ‘when’, yeah,” he sighs. “Anyway, this link is remarkable. If I focus on him, I can see through his eyes and hear through his ears. So it’s like I’m in two places at once. Sort of like Da, when he’s the fox. It’s very useful, but has to be done with respect and caution.”

“That’s amazing,” I whisper, and wonder why Flitt has never mentioned it to me. A bright blue orb drifts past. It pauses near my face and giggles softly.

“Hello,” I say to it with a forced smile.


Hello, gold-face
,” it replies in my mind. “
Paladin.

Another orb, a yellow one, comes to bob beside it.


Champion of Light,
” it giggles.

I nod, “hello, little ones,” I say softly. Their presence soothes me and entrances me. “Are you simply light, or are there little fairies in there?” I ask, raising my hand to cup it under the blue one. To my surprise it settles in my palm, soft as a puff of cotton. Within the blue glow, a sweet little face smiles up at me.


We are the wisps
,” she says. “
Messengers of the In-Between. Dreams and tales and song and poetry. Thoughts and cares. Wishes and comforts.


Messengers?
” I ask.


Messengers, oh, yes. Sometimes. And I bear a wish for you. Courage. Courage and clarity for the Champion of Light. For the Ambassador of Kythshire.


Thank you,
” I smile gently.


But there is more,
” the blue wisp dims slightly. “
A message: ‘My trusted friend, Daughter of the Elite, watch over my daughter. Keep her safe. Keep your promise. Honor my reign by ensuring hers. Set her upon the throne.
’”

“Is that,” I ask thickly around the lump in my throat, “is that from the king? From Tirnon?” I glance at Rian, but he’s too engrossed in his own conversation with the yellow wisp to notice.

The blue wisp giggles again and lifts off from my palm to float beside its yellow companion. Together, they swirl away and shoot off toward the stars.

Rian and I tip our heads up to the sky to watch them go, and then he turns to me again with such a look of wonder that I can’t help the chuckle that bubbles inside of me.

“I’d tell you how incredibly rare it is to be spoken to by a wisp,” he shakes his head and scoffs with amusement, “but honestly, I think this sort of thing is starting to just be routine for us.”

“What did yours say?” I ask.

“Have confidence,” he says. “Have confidence before your masters. Be assertive. Advocate for the Princess. Open the gate. Yours?”

I tell him what my wisp said, and he nods. “She’s the key to all of this. We have to make sure this doesn’t change her.”

“She’s been through so much,” I say.

Beside us, the branches of Twig’s home rustle softly, and Tib peers out at us.

“Azi?” he says. “I need to show you some things, and then we need to get Margy home before they start to think she’s lost.”

“Right,” I say, and follow him back inside where the princess is sitting in a whispered conversation with Twig, and Saesa and Flitt are still sound asleep. We look for a place to sit, and tendrils from the walls spring forward to make seats for us. Tib looks at his seat with distaste and decides to stand rather than sit. He leans close to me, and the rush of magic beckons me. Here in Kythshire, it’s even more powerful and enticing. It fills me to every pore of my skin. I fight it at first, remembering the archer, but shake my head and clear my thoughts to allow it. This time is different. This time I have permission, and it’s necessary.

Tib shows me everything he’s seen. The Keep, the floating island, the Sorcerers, Eron, the Void, Kaso Viro, he and Margy holding each other. The torrent of memories rushes over me, bombarding me with too much information, too fast. Tib’s mind is quick and abrupt. He doesn’t linger. He shows me exactly what I have to see, and then he cuts himself off so abruptly that my head spins and I cling to the vines of my chair to stop the room from tipping.

“Whoa,” I whisper, and take a deep breath to calm my churning stomach and spinning head.

“Okay, let’s go,” Tib says to Rian.

“Azi?” Rian asks. I can’t do much more than close my eyes and hold my hand up to show I’m all right.

“Oh! Sugar!” Flitt chirps from her hammock and darts across to me. She pulls some sticky cubes from her pouch and starts shoving them into my mouth like she did before we went to see the Fairy Queen. “You went too fast, Tib,” she says to him. “Azi’s not ready for that yet.” She pats my cheek stickily as the sweets melt on my tongue, and I slowly start to feel better.

“It’s fine,” I smile, “but Tib is right. It’s time to go back.”

“Not yet for you, though, Azi,” Flitt says quietly. “We have to pick something up first.” She winks at me.

Rian gives me a kiss farewell that I’m sure I’ll remember for weeks to come. All around us, the others ready themselves to leave. Finally, Tib clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable with our display.

“You have a—” Flitt starts.

“Mage stuck to my face, I know,” I say as I gaze into Rian’s loving eyes. “I don’t mind it so much.”

“If you see Ki,” Tib says, “Can you tell her I’m sorry I missed her this time?”

“I will. I’m sure she’ll understand,” I say.

“Ready?” Tib asks. He reaches for Margy and they clasp hands.

“Ready,” Rian says, reluctantly pulling away from me. He puts a hand on Margy’s shoulder and she clings to Tib. Twig tucks himself into the crook of Margy’s arm.

“Should I wake Saesa?” I ask of my squire, who is still sound asleep in her hammock.

“She can come with us,” Flitt says merrily.

“See you soon, then,” Rian gives me a winning smile before he fades away into the Half-Realm with the others in tow.

“Okay!” Flitt says cheerfully as soon as they’re gone. “Here’s what we have to do.”

“Wait a moment, Flitt. Please,” I hold up my hand and sink back into my vine chair.

“Are you all right?” she asks.

“I will be,” I reply. “The sugar helped, but my head is still spinning. I need a little time to sort through everything Tib showed me.”

“Can you show me what he showed you?” she asks. My stomach churns at the thought of more Mentalism, but I don’t feel like I can deny Flitt after she almost gave her life to try and save the king. I press my fingertips to my pounding forehead and nod.

“Look,” I say, and she comes closer and gazes into my eyes.

To my surprise, sharing this information with her is not at all draining. In fact, it helps me to sort through it all at a much slower pace and make sense of most of it. By the time I’m through, my headache is gone, my stomach has settled, and I feel much better.

“That’s grave,” Flitt says. “All of it. Scary. I told you it was something big. Worse than Jacek. But I never actually saw it. I never knew the details.  I can’t believe Tib did that. Wow. But, oh! We have two now!”

“We do,” I say. I can’t help but smile at Flitt. Back to her colorful self, she’s absolutely adorable. My heart swells with love for her. I reach out my hand, and when she settles onto it I can tell the feeling is mutual.

“Lots has happened,” she says. Her light dapples the canopy above us cheerfully.

“Mm,” I nod my agreement. “Lots.”

“Lots more is coming,” she says with an air of excitement.

“Are you ready?” I ask her.

“Are you?” she winks.

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” I laugh.

“Ha! You’re right!” she snickers and pushes off from my palm, and I watch with affection as she flies to Saesa and tickles her nose. “Hey, Squire,” she chirps, and Saesa bolts upright.

“I’m here! I’m ready!” Saesa gasps and tumbles clumsily out of the hammock. Her sword is out in a flash, and she crouches as if ready for a fight.

“Jumpy!” Flitt squeaks. “Put that thing away. We’re going on an adventure.”

“What kind of adventure?” Saesa asks as she sheathes Feat. She comes to my side and checks my sword and armor over. Finding little out of place, she busies herself fussing with the drape of my cloak.

“To the Wellspring,” Flitt grins.

“What?” I ask. “You mean, all of us?”

“That’s right,” she darts around excitedly. “To get the third offering. Are you ready?”

“I think so,” I scowl thoughtfully, “but, will they even let us close to it? I thought we were forbidden. I thought you would have to collect it.”

“Oh, no, silly! I can’t. I’m not a Keeper. You have to present yourself, and you have to ask for it. If the Keepers find you worthy, then they’ll give you access. All right?”

“All right,” I sigh. These things are never as straightforward as one would expect. “So, what do we have to do, then?”

“Well,” Flitt tucks herself into her spot at the crook of my neck. “we have to go on foot. You have to be guided to it. Feel it in your heart. If you can find it, then you’re almost sure to be allowed to collect from it. Cross your fingers, and follow the Light.”

Outside of Twig’s strange home, the sky is just beginning to turn from black to lighter blue. A hint of the sun. A hint of dawn. The grass is wet with dew that clings to my boots as I begin to make my way. Saesa keeps close by my side, and Flitt stays quiet in the crook of my pauldron. The beauty of Kythshire surrounds us. Even in this dim light, it’s easy to be enchanted by the trees and flowers and perfumes lining our path. Nestled between fronds of grass and fern, the ground glitters with scattered gems. My ginger steps make every effort not to disturb any sleeping fairies or other creatures as we walk, and I can tell that beside me, Saesa is just as aware of how destructive the two of us might be.

“Flitt,” I whisper softly, “could you light our way, please?”

“Sorry, Azi,” she replies. “I can’t make it look like I helped you. I’m only here to watch.”

“I understand,” I say, and think about drawing my sword. Mercy’s light could guide me, but I don’t want to seem like a threat. Instead, I pause to close my eyes and search with my heart. I have never seen a map of Kythshire.  I have no idea where Twig’s bush is, or where Flitt’s Grotto is, or The Ring, or The Crag, where Iren watches over the North. I’ve been to all of these places before, but I could always just think of them and close my eyes and appear there. This time, I have to center myself and listen. The forest is rich with life, even before the light of dawn. Birds are just beginning to sing, and crickets chirp sweetly. Nearby, a trickling stream babbles past.

I try to center myself in the moment and feel everything around me. The ground beneath my feet is soft grass and damp earth and roots. The earthy scent of the forest is sweet and familiar. It reminds me of my escapes with Rian in the Forest Park and the journey with my parents to escort Amei and Eron. Pleasant memories. I begin to walk again, this time keeping my eyes closed. A glimmer of a sunbeam flashes across the red insides of my eyelids like a beacon. I turn my face toward it and see the light clearly, but when I open my eyes again, it’s just as dim as it had been. Still, I’m sure of what I saw. I pick my way carefully through the dewy grass and wildflowers and head straight in that direction. At my shoulder, Flitt snores softly.

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