Of Witches and Wind (37 page)

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Authors: Shelby Bach

BOOK: Of Witches and Wind
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I sighed and rubbed my face, trying to think where they'd go, worrying about how much time I had.

“Prince Fael took them back to the Unseelie Court.”

Hearing the voice, I almost tripped and fell face-first in the sand.

On top of the closest boulder sat a small, hunched old woman, her nut-brown face lined with a thousand wrinkles—the mother of the four winds. Either she was following us around or she felt a little bad for having enchanted me without my permission. In the gloom, I couldn't quite see her expression. “The Turnleaf told the other Ever Afters that you had made it inside the Hidden Troll Court. The Fey overheard. The Unseelie prince was so looking forward to killing someone that he relocated to his throne room, where you could never reach him before time ran out.”

So Chase's bragging had given us away. Big surprise there.

“How long before daybreak?” I asked.

“Little more than a half hour,” she replied.

Chase had said we would walk for a while, and then climb some steps, but I was pretty sure he'd said it would take longer than thirty minutes. “And how long does it take to get to the Unseelie Court from here?”

“It depends on how you plan to travel.” That was a hint if I'd ever heard one.

The West Wind was out. He'd said he would need four days to recover from that glass vial.

I only had one other boon left. I stepped onto a flatter bit of sand, trying not to think about what would happen if this didn't work. I stamped my left foot three times and whispered, “Dapplegrim.”

The beach was still.

I missed Chase, master of the brilliant backup plan.

“Give him a moment,” the mother of the four winds said. “Five minutes is usually standard. You Ever Afters grow more and more impatient with every generation.”

“Sorry.” I rubbed my face again. All the adrenaline from the Hidden Troll Court had worn off long ago, and my thoughts were processing much more slowly than normal. “This isn't an insult or anything, but why are you here?”

“I owed Rapunzel a boon,” she said.

“She asked you to meet me?” That didn't make any sense. If Rapunzel knew that Prince Fael would move the questers, she could have told me herself back at EAS. Or through the M3.

“Given a choice,” the winds' mother said, “I would have repressed the vault's magic to spare you the blood, tears, and broken glass. The goblin priestesses and their magic are bound to me. What they see, I see.”

My face burned. She must have watched the whole thing. “What stopped you exactly? You thought my day needed to suck a little more?”

“Rapunzel believed you would benefit from the mirror vault,” she replied.

Ugh. Rapunzel was Solange's sister through and through.

“What did you learn when you faced such doubts, child?” said the mother of the four winds.

I hoped she didn't expect me to thank her for reducing me to a sobbing bloody mess on the maze floor. “Walking and crying at the same time can end in broken glass.”

The winds' mother narrowed her eyes in a way that clearly said,
I don't have to help you if you're going to be a sarcastic little snot
. I sighed. “You still need to conquer the Unseelie prince,” she said. “Ask me the question Rapunzel gave you.”

“Um . . .” Despite everything, I thought back. I didn't want Rapunzel as my enemy. I still wanted to believe she was helping me, but setting me in that maze . . . “She said to ask you what really happened the night Iron Hans escaped.”

“The priestesses' magic reveals the fears and desires of anyone who passes in front of their mirrors, and the Unseelie prince entered the Unseelie vault the night Iron Hans escaped. We learned three secrets.” The winds' mother grinned. You could see goblin in her smile.

“Prince Fael stole his father's key to accomplish a childish prank. He locked a half-Fey child in the tombs of their ancestors,” she continued. She obviously meant Chase. “To taunt the Fey child, the Unseelie prince threw the key away from him, over the wall to the beach below. But the king's key can open any lock in his court. It must not be misplaced. It must not be missed. When Prince Fael summoned the key back to his side, as only Unseelie royal can do, the key did not come. A chipmunk had found the key, picked it up, and carried it between his teeth down to his master in the dungeon. That is the first secret: Fael gave Iron Hans the key that opens all Unseelie locks, the one that set Iron Hans free.”

Oh. Nice. But I didn't know what to do with that secret—besides maybe tell Chase.

“Iron Hans went walking—in the small hours before dawn, when fairy revelers are in bed. He searched for his ax. He kept to the shadows. He discovered the Unseelie prince lying asleep and covered Fael's mouth with his iron hand. ‘Return my ax to me,' Iron Hans told the sleep-muddled prince, ‘or I will kill you.' That is the second secret: Prince Fael was the only Fey who saw the prisoner before Iron Hans left the court that night, and Prince Fael raised no alarm.”

I didn't have time for long-winded stories. The gloom had lightened to gray, a few shades darker than Rapunzel's hair. The sun was coming up. I glanced past the winds' mother, searching for a giant horse thundering across the beach. Maybe I should try stamping my foot again.

“The Unseelie prince did not want to die, but he could not give Iron Hans his ax. The war trophy had changed hands many times since Iron Hans had been defeated. The Hidden Court trolls now kept it in their Hall of Fallen Warriors,” continued the winds' mother. That must have been the name of the room of pretty spears, and bows, and swords. I was still waiting for a point to this story. “Prince Fael pleaded for his life. He would give Iron Hans anything except the ax. He would give him something the Hidden Court trolls might trade for. He would give Iron Hans the scepter of the Birch Clan.”

I snapped to attention. “Wait, Prince Fael
gave
the scepter to Iron Hans?”

The winds' mother nodded deeply. “That is the final secret. That night, the Unseelie prince entered the mirror vault just before dawn. Because he is of royal blood, the goblin priestesses
could not invoke their magic to stop him, but they could read his fears. The first two secrets, if revealed, might strip the prince of his rank, but to freely give away the scepter of the Birch clan, the symbol of his family's power . . . Fael would be banished from the Unseelie Court. He would be deemed a Turnleaf, shunned by all Fey.”

This was the blackmail we needed. We could make Fael tell us where we could find the Water of Life. We could make him
take
us there.

If I could just reach the Unseelie Court before the sun rose, everything might be okay. Everyone might live.

I sneezed unexpectedly, and with a leap of joy I whirled. “Dapplegrim.”

The horse thundered down the beach, flames flickering at the end of his mane. He trotted to a stop directly in front of me, even more massive than I remembered. I sneezed again.

“You know, I find it insulting that you have this response every time we meet,” said the Dapplegrim.

My eyes itched like crazy. “I'll be out of your hair forever if you drop me off in front of the Unseelie prince before the sun comes up. Can you?”

“Simple,” said the Dapplegrim, with a trace of scorn.

No wonder Atlantis was so dangerous. Everybody who lived here was so touchy.

I turned to the mother of the four winds. “Mind if I borrow your boulder?”

She just smiled. I scrambled up behind her, and the Dapplegrim sidled closer so I could clamber up his back.

“Remember, Rory,” said the mother of the four winds, while I looked for a bit of mane I could hold without crispifying my hand. “Doubts can conquer a person more quickly than an army. If you know yours, you can conquer them instead.”

I couldn't think as far ahead as conquering. I just wanted to get them out of my brain. I slid a leg over the Dapplegrim's back. “Was it real?”

“Of course it was real,” said the mother of the four winds. “Check the wound on your hand if you believe you made it all up.”

“No, I mean what everybody said; did they actually—” But I couldn't finish the question. As soon as my behind settled on the Dapplegrim's back, he sprang forward.

I decided that I would rather get singed than fall off. I clutched two fistfuls of mane and squeezed my eyes shut against the fiery horsehair flapping in my face. The Dapplegrim galloped so fast that the world slid by in gray. Sea spray filled my mouth as the Dapplegrim splashed through wave after wave. My clothes were soaked in minutes.

I opened my eyes only in snatches. The sun was rising. We would beat it. We had to.

After my fifty-seventh sneeze, I spotted a dark gray structure set atop a cliff. Its muted green banners danced in the breeze. “There!”

“Draw your blade.” The Dapplegrim's voice was ragged. Even he was out of breath. I wondered how far we'd gone. “Knights guard the top of the stairs. I could fight them, but it would slow me.”

“What stairs?” Then, unsheathing my sword, I spotted the narrow ledges barely a hand's length wide, winding up and up. A giant horse couldn't possibly gallop up that. “Crap.”

It doesn't bother the people who can fly,
Chase had said.

“Slice me, and I will throw you from my back—boon or no boon,” said the Dapplegrim. It took true talent to sound that intimidating when you were wheezing.

His hooves struck the stone steps with a jolt so hard I nearly dropped my weapon. I tangled my fingers deeper in his mane and sneezed again. My teeth clattered as the Dapplegrim hit each stair.

We were too high. I was going to throw up. I couldn't throw up. The Dapplegrim wouldn't carry me to the top then, and I'd never make it in time.

“Open your eyes, human.”

I did, staring upward so I wouldn't have to see the drop. The gray sky was threaded with gold. The sun had almost risen.

Closer now, I could see the structure better—how dozens of trunks twisted together to form walls, towers, and turrets. Those green banners blowing in the wind weren't cloth. They were actually hundreds of thousands of leaves.

Right at the front, two massive oak trees formed an arch two and a half stories high. Between them, two huge doors barred the way, made from vines woven in angular loops and swirls.

Two figures guarded the arch. Each wore black armor, and each had leaves hanging down its back where hair should have been.

Only two. I could handle two.

I concentrated on protecting the Dapplegrim's sweaty flanks, and my sword's magic flared.

The one on the left threw his spear at the Dapplegrim's heart. The horse dodged it, as the guard on the right slashed. I locked my hilt guard with his and yanked. His blade spun out of his hands. The Dapplegrim reared—I squeaked a little, groping for a better hold—and kicked the huge doors open.

He galloped through. The hall's ceiling was so low I had to duck my head against the Dapplegrim's.

I sneezed again, and then we reached the throne room.

Fael was on the dais, his eyes as big as dragon scales. The questers sat beside him, in chains.

Chase sprang to his feet, so fast his manacles jangled. “It's about time, Rory!”

Fael's knights stepped out of the shadows. Etched leaves gleamed on their armor. They edged closer to the Dapplegrim until I unzipped my carryall and tugged the scepter out.

“No! You could damage it!” someone shouted.

The knights stopped. They stared at the scepter the same way the trolls had stared at my shoe.

When the Fey made no further move to stop us, the Dapplegrim trotted in the rest of the way. I glanced over the questers. Kenneth and Mia had just woken up, but besides a new bruise on Chase's head and Kenneth's split lip, they didn't look hurt.

An orange sky shone through the windows. Dawn. We made it.

“So . . . ,” I said slowly, sheathing my sword. “I got it.”

“Very good.” Fael had recovered enough to lounge against the throne again. He was trying to seem uninterested, but his eyes never left the scepter. He was relieved to have it back. “Unfortunately, I said that the scepter needed to be in my
hands
before dawn, so one of your number will lose their life.”

Unbelievable.

What an evil little coward Fael was. He'd never done anything besides hide behind his daddy's throne, tricking people,
tormenting
them. Chase was worth a thousand Faels.

“No. No more tricks.” I slid from the Dapplegrim's back, scepter in hand. Nose running, clothes covered in magic horse fur, I marched up the dais. I grabbed Fael's hand from under his chin—the prince nearly fell over in shock; the whole court gasped behind me—and I stuffed the silver tree into it.

The Dapplegrim had apparently decided he was done. His hooves clattered against the stone floor on the way out, but I didn't turn around to watch.

“You dare to touch the Unseelie—” Fael began, outraged.

“Save it.” I lowered my voice. “I know what happened the night Iron Hans walked out of here. I know how he got his hands on the scepter.”

Horror and rage washed over his face. I knew I had him.

“This is what is going to happen.” I pointed at the lump of questers. They couldn't hear me—they were too far away. But they were all on their feet, staring. Chatty's hand was clutching Ben's arm. “Like we agreed before, you're going to let them go, because you got your scepter back. That includes removing the manacles, by the way. And unless you want me to tell this whole court what I know about how Iron Hans got this scepter, then you'll have to take us all to the beach beside the Water of Life spring. And we need to get there safely by sundown—no excuses, no funny business.”

“Do you have any idea how far away we are?” the Fael snapped.

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