Fairy Keeper (5 page)

They had had a long partnership, Bentwood and Jack. Bentwood wouldn’t ruin it for one month’s delay.

“How do I know you’ll wait?” Sierra asked. No way would she leave without assurance. “I want her to come with me.”

Jack laughed. “Nice try, Sierra.”

A wry smile acknowledged she’d learned from his negotiations. At one point he had hoped she would take over his business. A fairy keeper as a dark alchemist. Couldn’t beat that combination, but turned out a keeper with a conscience didn’t make a good dark alchemist. Sierra knew fairies weren’t intended to be used for that. She didn’t
like
them, but she protected what was hers. Nectar could be used for healing, if prepared properly. Corbin’s parents were healers who used his fairies’ nectar in healing potions for the ill and wounded. Naturally, her father turned it into something addictive, mind-altering, and even deadly.

Jack said, “You’ll have to trust me.
I
have never lied to
you
, have I? But you can’t say the same to me.”

A new slither of fear broke through Sierra’s numbness and iced her neck. He was talking about their pre-packed
leave in the middle of the night
bag. He nodded, seeing the expression in her eyes. She figured she was lucky he didn’t beat her for the thought of betrayal alone. And honestly, he was right; he had never lied to her. She had never been important enough to lie to. He told her straight out what he wanted, and expected her to obey. Someone wouldn’t think to lie to a dog, either.

Sierra’s stomach roiled. She was risking everything to save Phoebe and had to put faith in her father’s word. He kept his word with his business colleagues, though, so she decided she had to believe him now. Of course, even if she were successful, she could still lose Phoebe to Bentwood eventually. No matter. Sierra would figure something out between then and now. One problem at a time.

Jack continued, “So, go ahead, only I can’t have you go out alone. You broke my trust.”

No, no, no. She didn’t see how this night could get worse. If it wasn’t Phoebe, Sierra didn’t want a partner.

“Therefore,” he continued, “I’m going to send Nell with you as my enforcer.”

Sierra closed her eyes and tried to keep breathing.

The night just got worse.

ierra carefully packed for her journey while waiting for Nell to arrive. The few items stuffed in the bag earlier wouldn’t be enough for the trip. Phoebe sat on the edge of their pallet, mindlessly petting the old toy unicorn Sierra had sewn for her years ago from fabric scraps. Sierra wanted to talk to her sister, but words kept getting stuck, her mind racing ahead to what was coming. She tried to plan well, to think ahead to what she’d need: clothing, a cooking pot, medical supplies. But all she could think of was how getting tied up in Bentwood’s alchemy crew might as well be a death sentence for Phoebe. He wouldn’t likely kill her on purpose, not with the hopes of getting a keeper in his city one day, and his desire to stay a partner with Jack. But there were other kinds of death. Bentwood was the kind of man who beat his servants, the kind who tortured a messenger for giving bad news. The risk to Phoebe left no room for failure.

“Don’t forget to bring the sweater I knitted for you. Winter still has a month to go.” Phoebe’s voice was soft.

Sierra’s eyes stung as she looked over at the deep brown sweater lovingly knit by her sister’s little hands. It would be warm, but even better, it would bring to mind her sister when she was far away.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Sierra smiled, and all at once, Phoebe was in her arms, her red hair pressed to Sierra’s shoulder, face squinched tight.

Sierra rocked her. “Phoebe, I’m going to do this. It’s okay. Do your best to hang on while I’m gone, okay? Maybe I won’t even need the whole month. Maybe I’ll find her two ports away and be back in a week.”

“You don’t really think that, though.”

No, she didn’t. Sierra suspected her queen was quite far away if she was still alive. Maybe even captured. She couldn’t think of a reason the queen would leave the little fairies to die otherwise. Sierra figured she’d need every day Jack had allotted to solve the mystery and find her queen.

But what she said was, “Anything’s possible. Okay?”

Phoebe nodded, sniffled, and backed away to curl up on the edge of the pallet like a little kitten. Sierra forced out small talk as she packed. “Your sweater will be perfect, and the scarf you made, too.”

Phoebe’s smile kept Sierra going, even though every step closer to leaving hurt.

She laid out her thickest sweaters, her favorite canvas pants, her knee-length coat, and the fur-lined boots that had cost her a day’s collection of nectar. She’d slowly siphoned off the top of her daily harvest for several weeks until she could trade for them. She wore them when she went collecting mushrooms in the forest for her fairies with Corbin. He was the one to point out she needed thicker, sturdier boots for the wilderness of the forest.

Corbin would joke with her at the start of each winter: “Your feet will freeze right to the ground, silly ragamuffin!” He laughed, but he truly worried about the inadequacy of the thin leather shoes she usually wore.

She’d chuckle and tell him, “Then I guess you’ll get the fairy keeper statue you’ve always wanted.”

“Thanks, Corbin,” Sierra muttered now, grateful to have them. He’d be pleased to know she was taking good care of herself―and Phoebe, too.

Sierra glanced at the door before packing her toolkit. Fairy keepers didn’t need many tools, but they did need jars to collect nectar and nets to contain aggressive fairies. For a rogue queen, there wasn’t a lot she could do except try to win her back through whatever strange attraction she held as a keeper. No box was strong enough to hold a fairy queen, but the net would be useful in case it became necessary to grab some lesser fairies to lure the queen.

Sierra packed a small cooking pot. The girls prepared a lot of wild nuts, berries, greens, and mushrooms, even with the meat Jack added to the table.

“Are you actually going to try to hunt?” Phoebe attempted a joke, but her smile wobbled.

The girls didn’t have any real hunting equipment of their own, but they didn’t need any. Phoebe couldn’t stand to hunt, and Sierra was simply not good at it at all. Jack never bothered to teach her, though he was incredibly skilled with a bow and arrow. Sierra could use a bow in an emergency, but stuck with what fish and small game she could catch with her fairy nets. She gathered a lot of fruits and vegetables to supplement their meals. Jack hunted well enough that meat was rarely absent from their table anyway.

“I’ll manage. Don’t worry,” Sierra assured her, knowing Phoebe was worried. “Think of the possibilities―field greens with honey, mountain trout grilled on an open fire…”

Sierra’s stomach, which had missed dinner tonight, roared. The gurgling growl was staggeringly loud in the grim silence of their room. Phoebe giggled. Her bubbly noise sounded impossibly inappropriate, given the circumstances. She tried to stop, covering her mouth, but snorted instead, which only made her giggle harder.

Sierra stared at her sister for a long moment, at those sparkling brown eyes and the mane of shaggy red hair, and giggled, too. Some days, you either laughed or lay down and cried. Sierra laughed and laughed until her sides hurt, until the scrape on her stomach tore open slightly and blood oozed around the edges again.

“Looks like I missed the joke,” a girl said in a low, drawling voice from the doorway.

Sierra stiffened, then stood and turned to face the girl standing there.

At fifteen, she was a year older than Sierra and taller than many boys her age. A heavy wool jacket covered arms that Sierra knew were well-toned. Shoulder-length pale blonde hair hung in a single braid, emphasizing pale blue eyes in a face with light golden skin. The girl was actually quite pretty, though her disagreeable expression downplayed that fact. She looked at Sierra with undisguised dislike.

Sierra said, “Hello, Nell. No, you’re just in time.”

hen Sierra was six and Nell was seven, they competed in a village race with all the children. Sierra may have been terrible at hunting, but she was fast. Nell was bigger, older, and tougher, but Sierra outran her anyway. During their victory lap, the infuriated Nell hit Sierra right on her keeper mark, hard enough to send her flying into a tree. Nell didn’t like losing, ever, and even second place was unacceptable. Poor Corbin got a distant fifth, but he didn’t care. He spent most of his time reading books, already preparing for the day when his fairy would arrive.