The Doorway and the Deep (24 page)

“What pair of eyes?”

Rebel Gem nodded to Trouble, who was happily perched on the edge of the table.

“Oh.” Lottie blinked with sudden understanding. “All this time, I thought someone had given the key to Trouble. But it was just him all along.”

“Clearly he thought it was time you had it,” said Rebel Gem.

“You said other sprites would be afraid to touch it. Why?”

“It's made of—oh, what do you call it?” Rebel Gem pointed to the engraving bolted beneath the case. “There.
Lapis . . . lazuli
?”

“What's so special about
lapis lazuli
?” Unlike Rebel Gem, Lottie pronounced the words correctly.

“It exists in your world, but not here in Limn. The ring is human-carved, too. A great rarity. Many sprites hold to the superstition that otherworldly items are cursed. Dear Lottie, someone really ought to sit you down and catch you up on things. It's as if you know nothing at all about your parents.”

“I don't,” Lottie said softly.

“Well, we'll have to do something about that, starting with that ring. Take it. I insist. Take it as a sign of goodwill between the Northerly Court and the Heir of Fiske, hmmm?”

Rebel Gem patted Lottie's back just a little too forcefully and drew out her last words a little too long.

“I'm a teeny bit tipsy,” Rebel Gem confided. “But I know what I'm doing. Don't worry, I won't change my mind and apprehend you for thievery come morning. Now, here.”

Rebel Gem came closer, and as she did she produced a small, black silk handkerchief from the inner folds of her robe. With it, she plucked the ring from Lottie's fingers, gave it a swift cleaning, and then wrapped it carefully inside the cloth, folding it over twice, then three times.

“Best not to put that in your pocket unprotected. As I said, it's quite sharp. Northerly silk is the strongest fabric on Albion Isle. It will keep that ring from cutting through your clothes.”

“
Why
is it so sharp?” Lottie asked.

She didn't want to find fault with anything her father had given to her mother, but she had to admit the design seemed rather dangerous for a piece of jewelry.

“Your father designed it that way,” said Rebel Gem. “A small weapon—a last resort, as it were, should your mother need it. She passed through many dangers in such a short life.”

Lottie's chest wrenched with sudden pain. She took the tiny silk bundle from Rebel Gem and placed the ring in her pocket. She didn't know if Rebel Gem was telling the full truth, but now that Lottie had found the ring, she wouldn't dare let it go, even if Rebel Gem showed up at her bedside the next day with a legion of Northerly soldiers, demanding its return.

“What are all these other things?” Lottie said, motioning to the glass cases. One contained a bronze crown, another a
rusting chalice, and yet another a book so fragile it looked liable to fall apart should Lottie so much as blink in its direction.

“All relics,” said Rebel Gem. “Tributes to the House of Fiske, stored here for safekeeping. Can't say that any of them are all that interesting. After all, they're just objects. They can't bring back the Fiskes or their keen.”

Lottie turned around slowly. “You know I don't have the keen you're after, don't you?”

“The keen I'm
after
?” Rebel Gem repeated.

“Everyone else seems to be after it,” said Lottie. “But you should know, I can't command people like the old Fiskes could. I can only heal them.”

“You can
only
?”

Lottie wondered if Rebel Gem's tipsiness was affecting her hearing.

“I've heard all about your keen, Lottie Fiske,” said Rebel Gem. “There's nothing
only
about it. A healing keen is a very precious thing. It's a big responsibility, too. I should know.”

“You said you were the Healer of the Wolds,” Lottie recalled.

“That's one of my names, yes.”

“Then you're an actual healer? Like Mr. Wilfer? He told me there aren't many of you left.”

“He's right. I'm one of only three Northerly healers, and the other two don't much like to be disturbed, selfish
duffers. They only come out to make silly pronouncements about addersfork.”

“You don't believe them?” said Lottie. “You don't think the addersfork will work?”

“It might. I sincerely hope it does. Personally, I think the wisps would make better use of their time by strengthening what remains of their guard rather than foraging for lethal plants. But Lyre is fueled by a panic that his people will soon be extinct, and panicked rulers don't make good decisions.”

“But you'll do it now, won't you?” said Lottie. “You'll hold up your end of the deal and get the addersfork for them, now that I'm here?”

“Of course. Though the sprite I'd entrusted with that duty was Dorian Ingle.”

Lottie blinked. “What?”

“He's one of the few sprites brave enough to have ventured into the Wilders, and one of fewer still to know where the addersfork grows.”

“I wish we'd heard back already from your search party,” Lottie said.

“I do, too,” Rebel Gem said softly, surprising Lottie. “But worrying doesn't change a single tick on the clock. Better we focus our energies on what we
can
change.”

“Wait. If you're a healer, then what's your keen?” Lottie tried not to sound overeager. “Is it like mine?”

“It's a touch keen,” said Rebel Gem, “which I hear yours is, too?”

Lottie nodded.

“When I touch sprites,” said Rebel Gem, “I can feel their mental distress. Over time, I learned to ease the burden of a fellow sprite's mind. You might say I'm a healer of troubled thoughts more than anything else.”

“So, like a psychiatrist?”

“A what?”

“Never mind.”

“I told Lyre to promise you sharpening lessons during your stay here,” said Rebel Gem. “I thought, if you'd like, I could train you myself.”

Lottie felt dizzy. “I—that is, well, that's very nice of you to offer. But, um. Well, this is a bit complicated, but I don't exactly want to stay in the Northerly Court.”

Rebel Gem's calm expression did not change.

“The Tailor didn't even ask my permission about whether or not I wanted to come,” said Lottie. “And if he
had
asked, I would've told him that my friend Eliot has to get back to Kemble Isle, and I promised to go with him. He needs me around, you see, to stay well. And Dorian said you have a silver-boughed tree here?”

Rebel Gem nodded.

“Well, and it was a horrible shock, when Iolanthe invaded Wisp Territory and chopped down their tree.
And then we
had
to come up north. But I wondered if, once I know Adelaide and Oliver are safe, I could take Eliot back to Kemble Isle. Just for a little while. Through Christmas, maybe. Which, um, is this holiday we celebrate back in—well, that's not important. I just mean, I'm not trying to be ungrateful, but I really need to get back to the human world.”

Rebel Gem raised a single brow but still said nothing. Lottie was afraid she knew what this meant.

“You're not going to let me do that, are you?”

Rebel Gem placed her hand on Lottie's shoulder. Like her voice, the grip was kind but very firm. “You have important work to do here, Lottie. I'm not sure you realize how important.”

“I'm not sure
you
realize how important it is for Eliot to get back!” Lottie cried, yanking herself from Rebel Gem's grip. “If you don't let us use that silver-boughed tree, then you're just—you're a terrible person! I don't care how nice you seem or how important you think I am to the Northerly Court. If you don't let us go, you might as well be holding us captive. And if you're holding us captive, you're no better than King Starkling.”

Rebel Gem did not react in the way Lottie was expecting. She had thought that Rebel Gem would be angry, or that her face would at least turn sour. Instead, she remained as placid as always. She crossed her arms, thoughtful.

“I made a deal with Lyre Dulcet,” she said. “And a deal that's been struck can't simply be
unstruck
. I asked for your presence in my court in return for addersfork. If the Dulcets were to learn I'd given you up to the human world, they would perceive me as weak, malleable.”

“Well,
I'd
see you as
kind
,” said Lottie. “Doesn't that count for anything? Anyway, why do you care what the Dulcets think?”

“I'm a ruler, Lottie,” said Rebel Gem. “I have a reputation to guard. I cannot afford to be considered weak by the Dulcets or the Southerly King or my own people. Politics is a messy business, and I'm very sorry you've gotten tangled up in it. When I made that agreement with Lyre I had no idea there were . . . extenuating circumstances.”

“So that's all Eliot is to you? An extenuating circumstance?”

“Of course not. But you must understand my position.”

“
Why
?” cried Lottie. “Why must I understand yours when you won't understand
mine
?”

Rebel Gem stared at Lottie in a quiet, expressionless way that made Lottie tremble with anger. Then, at last, she spoke.

“Your Eliot can't return to the human world alone?”

Lottie shook her head. “He needs me by his side to keep him healthy. And even if you did let him go for a little while, by himself, how could I know you'd let him come back? Or that you'd let me follow later?”

“And if I let
you
go,” said Rebel Gem, “how would I know that
you
would come back?”

Lottie frowned. “Oh. I guess I see what you mean.”

“I have a proposal,” said Rebel Gem. “A compromise. What if Eliot wrote a letter to his father?”

Lottie nodded slowly. “That's what we did in Wisp Territory. He sent letters back home every day.”

“Then I will allow you to do so here,” said Rebel Gem. “That way, Eliot's father will know you are safe and have merely been delayed. And if you really must return to the human world, I will grant passage to both of you, but
only
after the addersfork has been delivered to the wisps, and
only
under the condition that you return. I want your help here, Lottie, and whatever you may think, I'd rather not get it by turning you captive.”

“Eliot and I still won't be back in time for the holidays,” Lottie said glumly.

“And I will be letting you return to your world with no guarantee you'll ever come back to mine. That's the nature of a compromise, I'm afraid: neither party is fully satisfied, but both get what's most important to them.”

“All right,” Lottie said slowly. “But you have to
promise
.”

“Of course. That's the nature of a deal.”

Lottie stuck out her hand. “Then it's a deal.”

Rebel Gem smiled at the gesture. Rather than shake Lottie's hand, she turned it palm up, then placed her own hand over it.

“We've struck the deal,” she said. “Northerly style. I will grant you and Eliot passage back to Kemble Isle once the addersfork has been retrieved and given to the keeping of the wisps.”

Lottie nodded. “Then someone had better get that addersfork soon.”

THE FESTIVITIES
on the supping lawn were still in full swing when Rebel Gem and Lottie returned, but Lottie headed straight back to the caves—the collection of bedrooms and common areas that Rebel Gem laughingly referred to as the “Slab of Mab” before bidding Lottie goodnight. Lottie found Fife asleep in his room. Eliot was by his side, sifting through a stack of letters—his father's letters.

“I wish I hadn't lost my sketchbook in the river,” he said, once he'd followed Lottie back to her own room, where they wouldn't have to speak in whispers. “There's so much here I want to get down on paper.”

“You'd do it justice, too,” said Lottie. “I bet one day the sprites will have a whole gallery dedicated to the work of Eliot Walsch.”

As they sat buried in the covers of Lottie's massive bed, Lottie told Eliot about her conversation with Rebel Gem, starting with their agreement about the silver-boughed tree. Eliot's shoulders slumped, but he didn't look too surprised.

“It makes sense,” he said. “Now that you're here, why would Rebel Gem let you go?”

“But it isn't fair to you,” said Lottie.

“At least I can let Dad know I'm okay. That's what's bothered me the most: we didn't show up when we said we would, and he's got to be so worried.”

Lottie nodded tearfully. “I didn't mean for any of this to happen.”

“Of course you didn't,” said Eliot, circling his arm around her. “And anyway, it's been an adventure, just like you promised. It's been fun.”