Keys and Curses (Shadow Book 2) (5 page)

“It’s true,” Flower conceded. “There was a fairy. I knew her and liked her.” She frowned and massaged her temples, suddenly not feeling so sure. “I think. I think I knew her. Maybe I’m thinking of something else.”

Coalfire kept up his piercing stare. “Come on, Muse, Hippy Ishtar is the most famous fairy in Shadow. If I know Bloody Fairies, there’ll still be a pack of them running around trying to avenge her death. Did you know her or didn’t you?”

“I don’t remember right now.” Frustrated, Flower changed the subject. “Why do you hate my king so much? He’s only ever worked for the good of Shadow.”

Coalfire snorted. “King Pierus has only ever worked for the good of King Pierus. Now focus, Muse, and tell me about the disappearances.”

Flower mentally went over the list. The last numbers she’d received were burned into her mind. “Forty-six Bloody Fairies from various settlements,” she said. “Eighty-eight Bloomin Fairies at last count. Two forest people from the Green Dragon tribe.” She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to Coalfire’s. “Four thousand and eighty three muses unaccounted for. If you must know, that’s why I’m here, and that’s why I must seek out my king.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “Nikifor and I were the last muses I could find in the city. As to the rest of Shadow, I don’t know.”

Coalfire nodded slowly. “It was wise of you to leave,” he said. Then, after a pause, “eight hundred and three Freakin Fairies.”

Flower stiffened. “How many?”

“Eight hundred and three. Three from this village. Eight hundred from the next.”

An insect chirped at the edge of the village. Trees rustled. Shadows crept in around them like monsters from the closet. Too many missing souls, disappeared into a yawning, unknown chasm. In Shadow City she used to wake in the night, cold as ice, listening for the voices of the missing demanding to know why she wasn’t looking for them.

“When?” she whispered.

“Our people went on a hunting party a month ago and never came back. Two weeks ago a messenger was sent to the Silver clan. He found the village empty. Everybody gone.”

Flower shuddered. “Did you send a message to the Guild?”

Coalfire squinted at her in puzzled amusement. “Did you?”

She sighed. “Point taken.”

Muse and fairy looked into the fire and contemplated empty villages.

Flower broke the silence first. Repeating the mantra aloud made her feel better. “I must find my king. He will know what to do.”

Coalfire rolled his eyes. “Just like a muse. How do you know he’s not behind the disappearances himself?”

“Because he disappeared first!”

“Then how do you expect to find him, if you can’t find the others?”

Flower knitted her fingers together. It was hard to put her fears into words. Dragging Nikifor halfway across Shadow had been easy in comparison to thinking about just why she’d had to do the dragging. “I fear someone else has taken control of the Guild, Coalfire. Someone who means my king and all of us grave harm. I promise you I will get to the bottom of this.”

“How? With the help of your friend? He has the brains of a shelled pea and the constitution of a duck.”

“Nikifor is a very young muse,” Flower said. “Something terrible happened to him, and he’s never been the same since. But you misjudge him. He’s strong and I intend for him to recover.”

“How young?”

“He’s only sixty-five.”

Coalfire counted on his fingers, screwed up his face and stared into space for all of thirty seconds before he gave up. “What’s that in fairy years?”

“About twenty three.”

“I never met a muse that young. Are they all like that? How old are you?”

“Three hundred and eighty.”

“In fairy years.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Twenty three and a half.”

Coalfire chuckled. “Really. Alright Muse, in the morning you’ll be on scout duty with Hairspring. Can’t have you sitting idle. And if any strangers approach, you’re to make yourself scarce, you hear me? I can’t pass you off as an oversized fairy and if you’re the only muse not missing, you’re bound to draw trouble.”

With that, he stood and walked away from the fire.

Flower sat and watched the flames dance until the leather of her tunic was so hot it felt like it was melting. No matter which way she tried to figure it out, how in Shadow things had got like this in the first place completely escaped her.

CHAPTER FIVE

Nikifor was more than happy to dress like a Freakin Fairy. The heavy leather trousers and tunic kept out the cold above and protected his skin from the quicksilver that sometimes spilled from the wagons below, threatening to make a statue of anything in its path.

He didn’t have to worry about the cold in the mines. The endless task of dragging the wagons from the reservoir, through the upward-sloping tunnels and out to the roads kept him quite warm enough. After the wagons reached the road they were covered, hitched to sturdy donkeys and sent off on the long trip to Shadow City. He spent a couple of seconds each trip watching the wagons leave, wondering just what he’d left behind in Shadow City, before the others prodded him to go back underground.

On the first day the labour tired him and left his clothes soaked with sweat. On the second day every muscle ached so badly he could barely lift the cart. By the third day he’d grown used to the task and the fairies on his team grumbled because they had to pick up their pace to keep up with him.

There wasn’t much time for thinking about anything, but for a few moments here and there Nikifor was aware he felt better than he had in a long time. It was easy to pretend he was one of the fairies, with no greater purpose in life than to drag silver from the bowels of the earth. It was easy to pretend he didn’t feel the dark shadow that lurked behind his shoulder. 

Strike Pin filled in a few details from his missing memories on the third evening, when they were all huddled around the fire eating after a hard day’s work.

“You’re a vibe addict, Muse. Your friend brought you to us crazy and half-dead, so we cured you. The memory loss was a side effect, that’s all.”

Nikifor just nodded. The fairies sitting around them snickered as though something about the situation amused them, but he was used to that, so he ignored it. “What friend?”

“Her.” Strike Pin jerked his head at a fire across the way. “Her name’s Flower.”

Nikifor craned his neck to pick out the form of the woman, who was a head or two taller than her companions. She was an odd sight after three days of seeing nobody but Freakin Fairies. Her hair, rather than black and knotted, was gold-tinted brown, neatly brushed and plaited and reached all the way down her back. She wore her leather awkwardly. A light smattering of freckles covered a face that seemed like it would have been friendly if it were not so strained. Worry lines creased the skin around her eyes and there was an obstinate tilt to her mouth. He wondered if she looked worried because of him. “Shouldn’t I talk to her if she’s my friend?”

“Go for it mate,” Strike Pin said. “But you’ll have to wait. We don’t eat with the women.”

“Why not?”

“Dunno really. They just told us not to.” He shovelled the last of his food down, clutched his stomach and emitted a loud, gusty burp. The fairies around him giggled madly at the sound.

Nikifor put his head down and pretended to be interested in his food, but he kept his eyes on Flower. When she stood up and left her companions, he did the same. He hurried to catch up to her. “Flower?”

She stopped in the shadow of a round hut whose black walls were splashed with streaks of silver. Her voice was clipped as though she expected him to give trouble. “Nikifor?”

“Yes.” He moved into the light of a gas lantern hanging from the eaves of the hut, not quite sure what to say.

Flower grabbed his face with one hand and turned it from side to side. The skin between her eyes wrinkled and her mouth tightened. “How are you? Are you alright? Are the fairies treating you well?”

“I’m well,” Nikifor said, wishing he hadn’t followed her after all. This woman was far more intimidating than she seemed at first glance. “They said–that is, Strike Pin said you brought me here.”

“Yes, what of it? I told you I would.”

“I–I don’t remember anything of it, but it seems I owe you a great deal.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I thank you,” he said.

A funny look passed over Flower’s face. The lines softened when she smiled. “You may have cause to say otherwise before too long, my friend. I fear we’re going to be in worse trouble than we were before too long.”

“Worse trouble?” Nikifor glanced around the darkening camp. Freakin Fairies passed them by with barely a glance on their way home and to bed, their bobbing lights blinking out all over the camp. “What trouble could there be here?”

“You were serious about not remembering,” Flower said, no longer smiling.

“They said it was a side effect of the cure.” Nikifor pushed the blonde hair out of his face. “I remember how to do things, I remember my name, but little else.”

“Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing for now.” Flower tilted her head, still studying him as though expecting to see some crack where madness could come tumbling out. “I hope you remember how to fight.”

He didn’t much care about remembering how to fight. “Why? Why was I a vibe addict?”

“You never told me,” she said. “But as far as I could gather, somebody damaged you rather badly some time ago. You tried to recover, but it never quite worked. Actually this is the best I’ve seen you since then.”

“Who damaged me? How?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out. When the Freakin Fairies say you’re ready to travel we will go seek out our king. He’ll help you remember.” She put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “King Pierus is the wisest, oldest and cleverest muse in all Shadow. He’ll know what to do about everything.”

“King Pierus,” Nikifor echoed. The name stirred a vague shadow in his mind, something that flew away before he could pin it down.

“Go get some sleep.” Flower gave him a last reassuring smile and walked away.

Nikifor stayed in the gaslight. More thoughts tumbled around in his head than he could manage. She hadn’t told him everything. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know everything yet.

Flower was still in sight when a piercing squeal erupted through the camp, a sound so loud he clutched his skull and cringed. She ran back to his side.

“What’s that sound?” Nikifor backed toward the safety of the nearest wall.

“That’s the warning. Someone’s coming.” She grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him back toward the campfires, but stuck to the shadows around the huts. “Stay quiet and watch.”

They crouched down in a doorway in view of the fire pit and watched the fairies hurry back to see what was going on.

Out of the darkness came the tramp of boots, each footfall hitting the ground in martial unison. Twelve people marched into the firelight, halted and fanned out into a line. The people were so tall and thin they made the fairies look like children. They wore identical silver masks, unadorned except for a carving of an eye in the centre of the forehead, long, heavy black coats with high collars and black pants tucked into tall leather boots. Silver sticks as long and thick as a forearm were holstered in their belts.

“Moon Troopers,” Flower whispered. Her grip on Nikifor’s sleeve tightened.

“Are they friends?” Nikifor’s words stuck in his throat. His heart pounded.

“Not really, no.”

Coalfire walked slowly to the front of the cluster of fairies, leaning heavily on his staff. “To what do we owe the displeasure this time?” His voice was grim. “I’ve told you already, we can’t supply any more quicksilver than you’re already getting.”

The voice of the Moon Trooper who spoke made Nikifor think of blood and death. The sound sent prickles along his spine.

“Two shipments are missing.”

Coalfire’s reply was swift and sharp. “That’s a load of bearfly droppings. Every wagon is accounted for on our end.”

The Moon Trooper held up a hand. “I’m not finished, Fairy.” He looked pointedly around the camp. “Two muses were seen entering this forest and are suspected of hijacking the shipments. We’re here to search your village for them.”

“Muses!” Coalfire roared.

Nikifor flinched. Only Flower’s grip on his sleeve kept him motionless.

“Muses!” Coalfire turned to his people and made a gruesome face at them. “Muses in our forest? Has anyone seen any?”

A cacophony of angry noise broke out from the fairies, and was halted just as quickly by a gesture from Coalfire. He stalked up to the Moon Trooper, leaned up as far as he could and glared. “We hate muses.”

The Moon Trooper’s hand flexed by his side, but he remained motionless. “Then you will all be glad to return to your homes and cooperate with our search.”

“Sure,” Coalfire said. “When Quicksilver Lake goes hard. What, are you people soft in the head? Nobody enters a Freakin Fairy village without first being a Freakin Fairy!”