Fairy Keeper (30 page)

he next morning, they packed up and set off. According to Micah, they’d reach the end of the mountains in the next couple of days. He knew the shortest way down.

Corbin walked near Sierra, eyes darting to her now and then. She waited for him to gather his courage. Sure enough, after a lunch of cold greens and berries, he paced beside her. They walked a long time in silence before he finally spoke.

“I think if we’re going to set the fairies free, we have to start at home. With Jack and his people, because they know us already. We need to get our port to stop using nectar altogether. And they need to let us take our fairies to roam the forest for a while, you know, to sort of replenish the land with magic.” He licked his lips as Sierra stared at him.

“You’ve gone mad,” she said, which was the nicest thing she could think of.

“No, listen! If Nell were to share some of what she’s told us―”

“If you think I’m going to get up in front of the men I work for and tell them they’ve got to stop making Flight, you really have lost your mind.” Nell rolled her eyes.

Corbin dragged his hands through his hair. “Not in
front
of Jack; in front of the village elders. If we can get
our
port and villages to let us treat the fairies properly, maybe word will spread to the other keepers. All these queens keep following us. Maybe the keepers will come looking for their queens, and then we can teach them. If all the keepers band together and refuse to be manipulated by the dark alchemists and healers, then what can they do?”

His eyes shined with hope. Sierra could tell he’d spent all morning plotting this coup. Sweet, naive Corbin.

“What can they do?” Sierra didn’t even try to keep the incredulity from her voice. “They can torture us. They can torture people we love.” She sliced her hand through the air like a guillotine. “They’d take Phoebe for sure! Do you want to see your parents hanging in chains, whipped, because you put yourself on a throne and dictated to all the elders how to treat fairies? They think of them like field mice or worse: a bunch of ants. Who cares if ants have rights? Not the elders. They’re too busy taking bubble baths in tubs carved from alabaster and lined with silver.”

She’d never seen such wealth herself, but Jack described it to her once, to suggest she stay friendly with the village elders. They had often paid him to do their dirty work, especially when he was younger. Nell was rising in the alchemy field through being an enforcer, and Sierra’s father had worked his way up performing even rougher duties, the kind involving a knife in the dark.

“But someone has to stand up to them!” Corbin cried.

The girls shared a look. Then Nell stared at the ground.

“Sierra’s right, Corbin.” Her voice was soft, seemingly too soft to go with the sword and muscles, but she managed to balance it all. “I know Jack. If we try to get him to stop his business, even if we swayed the elders, he’d kill us.”

“But he believes he needs Sierra so he can get more nectar. He wouldn’t risk killing a source of nectar!”

“He could kill Phoebe, or Bentwood could,” Sierra pointed out flatly. It was a fact. “We can’t do anything until I have Phoebe safe. Then, Corbin, maybe we can try something, okay? But wait.”

“There are other keepers he can find, keepers who might not care about our message or about changing their ways. If we brought him all these fairies? He’d be in firmer control than ever.” As if to underscore Nell’s point, the cloud of fairies swirled around them, glowing in the fading sunlight.

We run…
A thought intruded into Sierra’s mind, and she saw an image of all of them meandering through the forest, through the mountains, into lands she’d never even heard of. The ghostly image floated superimposed over her vision, and she blinked rapidly as it faded.

Queenie leaned against Sierra’s neck, and, all at once, tears pressed against her eyes. If they took off right now, she might as well cut Phoebe’s throat. Sierra would rather cut her own. They couldn’t run until they got Phoebe, at the very least. But say they escaped with her and Queen successfully. If they didn’t try to change the situation in the villages and ports, Nell’s message suggested the world itself would suffer catastrophically. Sierra had heard of a rock and a hard place, but this was painfully difficult.

So Sierra did what she did best. She locked the problem away in a corner of her mind to deal with later. As they camped for the night, the last remaining glow of sunset faded. They ate their meal illuminated only by the flickering light of campfire and the golden shine of their fairy queen entourage.

They discussed possible strategies after dinner. Sierra’s top goal was still to save her little sister. Corbin wasn’t willing to risk her life, not even for his beloved fairies. After much debate, they arrived at a fairly simple plan. Sierra would show Jack her queen. He would tell Bentwood that Phoebe wasn’t coming until next year, giving them breathing space from that threat. It would be hard enough to escape Jack. They didn’t need Bentwood searching for them, too. Sierra would set up a hatch for Queenie but wouldn’t actually use it. It’d be a decoy while they gathered supplies and money. Then she’d take Phoebe and run away as quickly as they could, bringing Queen with them. Corbin and Nell would stay behind and act normal for several months, keeping Grace and the rest of the queens secret. With all the other queens away from their keepers, Jack wouldn’t be able to abuse any of them and Nell would pass on anything she heard from Jack’s camp. It was the best any of them could come up with. Queenie even seemed to understand and agree.

If Corbin elected to talk to the elders at Port Ostara after that point, that was his business. Sierra would even come back and help, if she could find a safe place for her sister. It was the closest to a compromise they could reach.

The next morning, Sierra found a spare moment alone with Nell and asked, “What will you do if you start to, you know, talk?”

Sierra raised her eyebrows high when she said “talk” so there was no doubt what she meant.

“Throw myself against a wall?” Nell grimaced.

Sierra snorted. The sound was unexpected in the quiet morning air, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. The boys up ahead looked back quizzically, but she waved at them to keep walking. Again, the decision to not laugh seemed to require she start giggling like a seven year old. Nell started to chuckle as well, and soon they were howling with laughter. Corbin and Micah looked at them as if they had lost their minds, and perhaps they had. But it was much more fun to be crazy with someone else.

After they wiped their tears and kept walking, Sierra returned to the subject. “No, seriously, won’t Jack kill you for saying those kinds of things in front of his crew? I mean, are you able to
hear
yourself?”

Nell sighed. “Yeah. Not at first, but this last time was sort of like being pushed underwater by something. The words were muffled, and it was like something stood between me and my body.” She shrugged. “It’s a creepy feeling, but when it leaves, I’m peaceful. I don’t know how to explain it.”

As they watched Queenie flit and fly in front of them, Sierra smiled. “No need to explain.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll end up staying an enforcer,” Nell said in a quick whisper, eyes darting to Corbin. “Corbin said his parents could train me as a healer, maybe. I’m thinking something more peaceful might suit… us… better.”

She flushed a pretty pink, and Sierra was happy for them. No jealousy soured the moment at all, for which she was thankful.

“I think that’s great, Nell. My father, well, he’s not a great boss, and you deserve better.”

They exchanged tentative smiles that suggested a new kind of friendship was possible, one where they might actually choose to spend time together. Perhaps instead of losing Corbin as she had feared, Sierra would gain a new friend.

The miles passed quickly now that they were so close to their goal. Downhill travel was faster than trudging up the mountain. The weather finally became milder. Each step brought Sierra closer to her little sister. She could now allow herself to think about Phoebe again, to wonder how she was. It didn’t hurt to think of her anymore, because it was all going to be okay. Sierra allowed herself to remember all the special times she’d spent with Phoebe fishing on the dock, gathering greens in the forest, and cooking early in the morning before Jack was awake to ruin everything.

If Sierra closed her eyes, she could picture Phoebe perfectly: the doe-brown eyes, the carrot-red hair, always with the cowlick on the right side of her brow. She was small for her age, like a little wren dipped in red paint. Her voice captivated everyone, but especially Old Sam, who crooned in joy when she sang like a little bird with her clear soprano. She was altogether too lovely and beautiful to be any part of Jack’s schemes.

Sierra eyed her fairy, hoping Queenie wouldn’t attack Jack when she first saw him. She seemed to have received a lot of information about him and vibrated with anger whenever Sierra so much as thought his name. If Queenie killed Jack, his men could kill Phoebe in retaliation before anyone could escape with her. Then again, if
all
the queens would swarm again, Sierra could urge them to attack as a last ditch effort to escape if worst came to worst. The thought made her laugh, the image of Jack running for the hills with a bunch of fairies pinching and biting the seat of his pants. Maybe they’d even sting him and save her the trouble of dealing with him. She savored the image like a tasty leg of lamb and kept on walking, toward home.

n their last night in the mountains, heaviness weighed on Sierra’s heart. She lay on her bedroll, trying to determine the cause of her sadness. She’d be home in about a week. After nearly a month, that was nothing. She should be exultant! Then she saw Micah standing guard again, leaning against a tree to her right, and her confusion coalesced, like placing her finger on the exact spot of a bruise. They were leaving the Skyclad Mountains the next day. They’d be leaving his home. He should be staying here, but his strong sense of duty demanded he come with them. She frowned at the idea of him thinking he owed her for anything. That was ridiculous. If anything, they owed him―he’d saved their lives, even though Sierra had shot him wrongly. He led them, fed them, kept them safe, and sent the dragon away.