Fairy Keeper (13 page)

Keeper Hannon scoffed at this answer, obviously in disagreement. “Caring for merfolk? By keeping them in chains? Treating unicorns like beasts of burden? Using fairies to cultivate nectar for elixirs and healing droughts, all for us humans? That’s caring for them?”

Sierra wished she had a witty response or a clear-cut answer, but she didn’t. Everything Keeper Hannon said was true. Those things squelched in her belly like a meal gone sour. Confusion swirled through her, but one thought remained clear: Phoebe needed Sierra to bring home a queen. That was all that mattered.

She risked walking closer to the keeper because she needed to look in his eyes when he answered her next question. “Why do you think the queens are gone?”

The old man sighed. “I think they left because there wasn’t enough magic for them here.”

Anger surged through Sierra. He was wasting her time with that nursery rhyme business. “Give me a break, Keeper. Fairies make magic. How could they not have enough?”

Keeper Hannon sat back to explain, as though settling in for a long tale. Sierra decided she had come this far. She might as well hear him out.

He said, “Listen carefully. The world needs magic to sustain it, correct?”

They all stared back at him with blank expressions. He spoke as if they should know this. Sierra sure didn’t.

Keeper Hannon growled and burst out, “What are they teaching you in school these days? Corbin, I know I told you this. Bah! Yes, the world needs magic. It’s what holds the fabric of the world together. Fairies exude magic simply by living, as do other magical creatures. But fairies are special in that they make more magic than they need. They then spread it throughout the world through the nectar that drips from them wherever they go.”

Sierra scowled. This was news to her. How could she not know such a thing if it were true? It was literally her job to understand her fairies in order to keep them healthy.

He continued, “They only consume their own nectar to replenish their magic when they are overworking, usually. In winter, when the magic of the earth is deep and quiet, they will use their nectar then, too. But in the other three seasons, they spread magic all the time. Or should be. We keep taking their nectar all the time, so they keep producing. And producing. They never have enough for themselves, much less enough to spread to others. What if there’s not enough magic left for them here or left for them to give to the world? What if instead of keeping them safe, we’ve worked them to death as a species and the queens have abandoned us? What do you think will happen to the world then?”

Sierra felt an unexpected pang at the word
abandoned
, but she shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. We don’t all
need
magic. I certainly don’t. And my hatch was still producing nectar, even if it was slightly less. Big deal. We all have bad days. Wasn’t yours still producing?”

Keeper Hannon replied, “Yes, but consider how many keepers are taking too much of the fairies’ nectar. Not only alchemists of all kinds, but the healers use buckets and buckets of it. That nectar is supposed to replenish the magic in the world, but we keep stealing it without giving anything back. Why not return to where they came from? The Skyclad Mountains supposedly are where magic first began. Maybe there’s more magic there. If I were a fairy, I’d get out of a life of slavery before it killed me, wouldn’t you?”

Slavery. It was a word Sierra had thought applied to her life. But how did you enslave a bunch of insect-like creatures? How was that slavery? It wasn’t… was it? Sierra cared for her fairies, fed Queen, cleaned the hatch, guarded their nectar from other humans, and watched out for predators.

Then images flashed through her mind faster than a fairy’s flight: her little fairies glowing an angry red as she took more and more nectar, Queen batting at her like a fish beating against a net, Queen gazing through the forest as if looking for something she’d lost. Sierra remembered the pulling pain she could feel during those times, pain she could have sworn actually came from Queen herself somehow. The haunting memories made Sierra shudder. The tiniest part of her wondered if the old keeper was onto something, but then she remembered her mission.

Keeper Hannon knew nothing about the why, nothing but his own wild opinions, but he knew how to get to the mountains. He’d bonded to a fairy queen halfway up the mountains years before. That was what she needed to know. That was the really vital information. Her pulse picked up, and she smiled.

For the first time, Sierra admitted to herself she hadn’t been so sure, deep down, she was going to be able to succeed in her mission. Now she had a real shot. Keeper Hannon didn’t want to talk to her. Everyone, though, talked to Corbin. Not because he threatened or threw a fit. They talked because he listened, and he listened because he cared. It was one of his greatest gifts.

Sierra didn’t have the emotional energy to care about the man or his queen or the world getting drained of magic. She didn’t even care that she didn’t care. She cared about her sister and getting the job done. The old keeper would know that, and he might not share everything. She slid out of the room, leaving Corbin to be his usual charming self. Nell stayed with him.

Sierra stepped outside again and walked around to where the back of his house sat, close to the edge of the cliff. She could see the hatch off to the right, at the edge of his rocky field, but she didn’t bother to approach it. She knew what she’d find. She sat on a rock and gazed at the clouds, thankful rain hadn’t fallen again.

Her shoulders dropped. They’d been hovering near her ears a lot. Her head only ached a little today, though her bruise was still yellow and green. Her lungs expanded all the way. She took another deep breath, and even the cold was refreshing instead of biting. Then a low rumble shivered the air.

ierra snapped her head up to scan the clouds. As close to the water as they were, lightning was a real risk. But she didn’t see any flashes.

The sound rolled through the air again, and this time the ground shuddered against her feet. Her heart hurt like someone was squeezing it in their too-tight fist. The lungs that had been breathing without effort suddenly cramped. She couldn’t force enough air in them. She scuttled backward off the rock, away from the edge of the cliff. She didn’t know how strong this cliff was, but she couldn’t wait there while a quake came. The image of the family’s house collapsing like a deck of cards flashed behind her eyes, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a second. Then she burst out running to the front of the house to warn the others, though surely they had already felt the trembling.

“Corbin! Nell!” She sprinted flat out and slid as she reached the doorway, grabbing hold of the frame and almost landing on her bottom. She slammed open the door but couldn’t take another step.

The ground trembled again, longer this time, and Nell raced around the corner of the hallway of the house, face pale. “Stay there!”

Sierra had no choice. The ground was shaking now, cracks running along the jittering dirt, and she dropped to her knees and put her arms over her head and neck. She curled up like a baby. She couldn’t do a thing. Her sister might or might not feel this one, she didn’t know. But another quake this soon…

Sierra moaned into her hands. She wasn’t afraid of much, but earthquakes were it. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had two quakes so close together. Sweat slicked her palms. When Corbin touched her shoulder, she realized the ground had already stopped moving. Dirt clung to her face as she sat up, and she flushed at Nell’s expression. In response, Sierra glared at the bigger girl, anger and shame fighting inside, making her clench her fists.

The tension between the girls grew, but as much as Sierra would have liked to be the toughest one, she couldn’t stand without help. Her knees were like currant jelly. Corbin squatted beside her and hugged her for a minute. She inhaled his scent, the honey-cinnamon she also often smelled like. Job hazard. It wasn’t the same too-sweet smell of the elixir, though. In its natural state, nectar was the perfect blend of sweet and tangy.

“Did you find out what we needed?” she asked, close to Corbin’s face as he leaned down to help her stand.

He turned his face to answer her, accidentally brushing their lips together. A jolt rushed through Sierra, unexpected. She didn’t know boys had soft lips. So soft and warm, but she wasn’t interested in Corbin’s lips. She really didn’t think he was interested in hers, either. She froze, as did he. So did Nell, who stood behind Corbin. His eyes were huge, the clear amber of a forest floor.

“S-s-sorry,” he stuttered and nearly dropped Sierra as if she were scalding. He nodded quickly and licked his lips, striving to act like all was normal as he stepped back.

An insane urge to burst into laughter gripped Sierra, but she didn’t want to offend her sweet friend.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, we know where to go.” He paused. “Right, Nell?”

Nell’s lips were tight. Two bright red spots stained her cheeks. A new understanding swept over Sierra as she looked between the two of them. All of Nell’s antagonism toward Corbin was a cover-up. Tough enforcer Nell liked Corbin, too, but hadn’t wanted to show it. Sierra wondered how long Nell had harbored secret affection for him. Sierra could have hit herself, but instead she laughed. It wasn’t the fun kind of laughter.

“Right,” Nell said in a gruff voice. She pushed past them and walked up the path.

Corbin offered their goodbyes to the keeper, who was already drinking again. Sierra watched as Corbin jogged up the trail and began speaking to Nell. She didn’t look at him, only stared straight ahead. Sierra’s mind whirled like she had realized west was actually east.

Hmm… let’s see. Should he choose the tall blonde leader-type to be the love of his life? Or should he spend his time with the scrawny, angry girl who had always rejected what he loved most? Sierra cursed even while she laughed at the absurdity of the situation. She felt empty, as if Corbin had already handed all his heart to her enemy.

She was exhausted just thinking about the week’s journey ahead of them and the days after that spent roaming in the cold mountains full of dangerous creatures. Her manic laughter had about run out. She didn’t know how she’d get along in life without Corbin, but if Nell and Corbin became a couple, it wasn’t likely he’d be hanging around much anymore.

In what was left of the day, they used up all of their coins buying provisions for their trip down in the port. After a quick supper, they returned to set up a simple camp at the edge of the keeper’s land before the sun set. They weren’t going to travel in the dark, so they wouldn’t get too far, and there was no way Sierra was sleeping in that man’s house. Keeper Hannon didn’t join them around the low fire Nell set, but no one had expected him to.

Sierra, Corbin, and Nell lay down like points of a triangle surrounding their meager fire. Wrapped tightly in her bedroll, Sierra felt like a wooden puppet, unable to relax. The word
slavery
whispered through her mind again, turning her stomach. Slavery.
Ugh.
She had to get some sleep tonight. Blowing out a breath, she rolled to one side and tried to focus on the sounds of the surf. The ocean waves crashed against the cliff wall louder here than at home, but the familiar melody was enough to soothe her to sleep.