On Fallen Wings (11 page)

I held Abigail close to me and led her past the dock. “It’ll be all right,” I said. “If the man I met truly is the bandit, they shouldn’t have any trouble.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Abigail.

“Wait—” Nia stopped walking and interrupted. “You
met
the bandit? Why didn’t you tell me?”

So much had happened the last several days, I had forgotten that my best friend didn’t know about my encounter with Darian. I told her the story, and tried my best to bore her—I didn’t want her to worry.

“That’s why they made the rule?” said Nia, shaking her head when I had finished. “Because of you? You’re lucky to be alive.”

“I’m okay. I said, trying to ignore the panic in her voice. “He was kind and he didn’t threaten me.”

“It’s still scary.” Nia pulled her cloak tighter. “I hope someone catches him and the Elders send him away.”

“I agree,” I said, shivering. “Let’s stop talking about him. It darkens the air.”

The three of us followed the gravel until arriving at the small bubbling stream that marked the beginning of the Bauer Family land. I knew this spot well; Nia and I had captured frogs here when we were children. I stepped over the water and reached back to aid my friends across the slippery rocks.

“How much farther is it?” asked Abigail.

I searched the trees and ferns. “I don’t know,” I answered. “I’ve never been over there.”

Nia turned away from the lake and started pushing her way into the thick brush. “I’m sure we won’t find anything next to the lake.”

“Are you certain?” I asked. “The cave could be anywhere.”

“It’s not near the water,” she said. She disappeared behind a large tree with hanging green vines. “I’ve ridden on a boat up and down this side of the lake. There’s no cave—only rocks, grass, and trees.”

I kept my disappointment to myself as I acknowledged Nia. I had hoped that our journey would be easier, somehow. “I trust you,” I called to her. “Come on Abigail, let’s follow.”

We battled the twisting limbs and uneven ground while treading through the unknown forest, in search of the cave. The only information I had about this place was what Sean’s uncle had told me. Even that was brief. I didn’t know where it was, or what to expect if we ever found it. As we hiked, the trees grew closer, blocking the sunlight and its attempt to warm us. The day suddenly felt like evening.

Abigail reached into her pocket and pulled out a round crystal that covered the palm of her hand.

“The Boil Stone,” said Nia, smiling. “That was smart to bring it.”

“I take it everywhere,” answered Abigail, proudly.

Alone, the Boil Stone looked like any other round quartz: pale, cold, and translucent. When warmed by its owner, it offered light and energy to everyone. There were two Boil Stones in Aisling. Abigail had one, a gift from Ophelie Tanner. Dylia owned the second.

Abigail rubbed her hands across its surface. The crystal began to glow—brighter and then brighter until it hurt my eyes to look at. Its effect on the forest was immediate; the leaves of the bushes and trees reflected bright green and the soil turned from dark to reddish brown, highlighting footprints left by our leather soles. The dark places close to us disappeared, leaving distant shadows that crept at sharp angles when Abigail moved the crystal. The light was magnificent.

She held it higher. “That’s much better.”

“It’s wonderful,” I said, impressed at the crystal’s power. I nudged her in front of me. “Now, you can lead the way.”

We continued to explore the forest, enjoying each other’s company. The light overtook the gray of the journey and brightened our thoughts. We laughed when small squirrels jumped from the trees, and shrieked while escaping snakes, exposed by the light of the crystal lantern.

Soon the mountainside to our right began to cut away, revealing a portion of jagged rock and jutting tree roots. The cliff was twice my height, and tiny ferns clung perilously to its sides, finding purchase in solid rock.

“Look at this.” Abigail rushed ahead of us.

Nia and I caught up with her where she stood by a craggy slope. Cut into the rock, barely tall enough for me to fit under, a cave opened the mountain. Abigail’s crystal revealed it had been an obvious place of refuge for many animals; small chunks of bone and fur littered the ground at its entrance.

“What if a bear is inside?” I asked, realizing a new danger. “Maybe, this wasn’t a good idea.”

“I’ll take care of them,” said Nia, calmly, as if I had mentioned a squirrel—not a fierce creature that could eat us. She lifted her cloak and revealed a leather stomach sheath across the belly of her dress. She pulled a bone handle and removed a silver short sword. It flashed as the light reflected off its surface. Nia held it high over her head.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, chuckling. “Throw that at any animal that attacks?”

“No,” said Nia, defiantly. “I can stab. Father showed me.”

“Of course,” I said, “and at the instant you were close enough to stab that into a bear, he would have eaten you already.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. Nia was a lot like me—afraid to hurt anyone. If Madeline wasn’t already a faerie, I was sure Nia would have been chosen; although I wasn’t certain if there was a rule that excluded sisters from the order. None of the Fae had ever mentioned one.

“Do you have a better idea?” Nia frowned. “I don’t suppose either of you brought a weapon.”

“Of course not,” I said, shaking my head. “You know better.”

“Faeries aren’t allowed to cause harm,” said Abigail. “Maybe that’s why
you
were never accepted.”

Abigail’s words brought—at first—a flash of anger to Nia’s eyes; however, it quickly turned to playful spite. “Maybe I should tell my sister you were teasing,” said Nia, aiming her threat like the dagger’s blade. “I’m certain she can convince the Faerie Queen to make some room for me.” She glared at Abigail for a moment and smiled mischievously. “I’m only playing.” She reached around to hug her. “Father made me promise to carry it until he finds the bandit.”

Nia’s sword didn’t give me much comfort. The mouth of the cave loomed large and foreboding, and I was reluctant to take the first step, even though this was my expedition, and my friends were waiting for me to take the lead. I feigned a confidence I didn’t feel and stepped inside.

Nia and Abigail huddled close behind and we ventured into the darkness. Abigail held the Boil Stone close to her body, as if it was a shield. Its light created a tall shadow above our huddled faces that distracted me with every step forward. Nia pointed her sword and jabbed at the air, appearing to warn any danger ahead that she meant to cause harm—even if she couldn’t.

Less than a dozen paces into the void, we found our path blocked by a sealed iron gate. Vines twisted around the metal, securing it firmly into the ground. The three of us sighed with relief; although difficult to see through, the rusted metal revealed that anything inside would be lifeless, and that nothing outside of the gate had ever ventured in.

I walked to gate and pushed against the cold iron; it didn’t move or creak. “It’s solid,” I said. “Whoever built this, didn’t want anyone inside.”

Nia examined the hinges of the door, probing them with her hands. “Abigail, bring your light closer, I want a better look.”

Abigail approached us, and while she held her light to Nia’s commands, I stared at the illuminated cavern behind the metal rails. It was dark and wet. Black shadows, created by the gate and the crystal, floated against the walls. An old lock secured the gate. Nia jammed the end of her short sword inside and twisted the handle while leaning against the gate.

“Brace me,” she said, grunting as she pulled and shifted. “I think I can free the lock.”

Abigail and I grabbed Nia’s hips and shoulders, adding our leverage to her own. With a snap, something broke, tossing us to the ground in opposite directions.

“Nia? Abigail? Anyone hurt?” I asked, scrambling to stand and brushing myself clean.

“I’m okay.” Nia hopped to her feet and returned to the gate.

Abigail nodded and raised her arm to light the cave with her crystal. With a grunt, Nia lifted a rusted hinge on the lock and pulled the gate open. It creaked loudly, and I winced at the shrill warning. When it stopped, Nia stood proudly on the other side of the gate.

“My dear faeries, would you care to enter my realm of darkness?” Nia spoke in a low tone, allowing her voice to echo off the cave. It made me shiver. “The fee I demand is your dearest love.”

“I offer you my light,” said Abigail. She skipped past Nia. “Good work.”

I followed her inside and stopped to hug Nia. “Thank you,” I told her.

“Nia and Rhia,” she whispered.

I smiled, then the shadow left from Abigail’s movement covered us in more darkness than I desired.

“Let’s go,” Abigail called back. “This light won’t last forever.”

Nia ran after her.

Remembering the beast of our fears, I quickly pulled the gate shut and lowered the locking hinge to secure it. “Hey, wait for me. I don’t want any hungry animals following us.” I hurried to Nia, who took one of the burlap bags from around my shoulders.

“I think we’ll need these,” she said, smiling. “Nia and Rhia, on our final adventure together.”

“Don’t say that,” I told her. “We’ll have more adventures. Life will find a way for us to stay together, even once we’ve both married.”

“Once
you’re
married,” said Nia, jabbing me in the ribs. “I may be stuck working for my father forever. Then we’ll be neighbors until we’re old and wrinkled.”

Abigail turned to face me. I lifted an arm up to shield my eyes from the brightness.

“Do you have any idea where the armor may be?” she asked. “Did Sean’s uncle tell you?”

“No,” I answered. “He didn’t get the chance to say. We were interrupted.”

The air in the cave was cold and moist. It smelled like the underside of a river stone, old and calcified. The cave was tall enough for me to walk without ducking, but as the three of us weaved through the twisting cavern, it squeezed thinner at points and forced us to walk or climb in single file, or as alternating pairs.

I felt like the heroine in one of Raisa’s old stories, walking into the dark realm to test my courage. I rested my hand on the rough stone wall and listened. The cave seemed haunted by old pain and misery, whispering tales of terrible battles and desperate struggles. I removed my hand and leaned closer to my friends.

Around us, twisted roots weaved in and out of the rock walls—like serpents waiting to strike, and the mixture of angled shadows and glowing light, combined with the heavy air, squeezed us with threatening force. Still we marched forward, two faeries and their friend, careful of every step on the dirt and rock.

Soon Nia took the lead in our adventure. She was fearless as she walked ahead. She hummed a soft melody to lighten the anxiety we all seemed to feel. Corner after corner, turn after turn, ascent and decline, she led the way with her soft bouncing voice. She disappeared around a bend in the cave and yelped. After another scream, she was gone.

“Nia!” I ran forward and turned, but saw only a suffocating shadow. “Nia.”

Nothing.

Abigail aimed the Boil Stone high. Still, I saw nothing.

“Nia,” I called again, “where are you?” I stepped forward, searching the dark edge of the light ahead of me.

Nothing moved.

“Abigail, can you see her? Nia?”

Then she called to us. Her voice echoed from afar. “I’m here,” she said. “I fell.”

I took a step forward but Abigail pulled me back. “Wait.” She aimed her light to reveal a fissure where the ground disappeared.

I dropped to my knees for a better look, and Abigail joined me, reaching her crystal over the edge.

Wide enough to jump over, but hidden to unsuspecting intruders—which we were—the hole was a trap.

From the darkness, Nia’s face appeared. She was covered in dirt and her hair was a tangled black mess.

I reached down to her. “Here, grab my arm.” With a tight grip on Nia, I pulled her up to safety.

Nia looked shaken, but gave a weak smile as she clung to the burlap sack I had given her at the stable. “Thanks,” she said, “I didn’t see the hole.”

I hugged my friend and lifted her to stand. “I don’t think you were meant to,” I said, refusing to release her. While Abigail joined our embrace, I allowed my warmth to pass to both of them. I had known that our quest could be an adventure; nevertheless, panic had crept into my thoughts. I never intended to risk the safety of my friends. “I’m sorry, Nia,” I said, stepping back. “If you want to go home, I’ll understand.”

Nia surprised me with her answer. “Of course not,” she said, chuckling. She brushed soil from her cloak and dress, and then tossed the dusty sack over her shoulder. “I’m not hurt. It was simply a surprise—that’s all.” She rubbed Abigail’s shoulders. “Do you want to keep going? I do. This is exciting.”

Watching the glow from their smiles made tiny sparks of enthusiasm dance in my heart. They were great friends, and I would miss our adventurous days. I smiled back. Then watching my feet, I stepped over the hole that had captured Nia, and helped them both across. We resumed our quest, but slower than before and enlightened of the danger.