The Doorway and the Deep (37 page)

The water began to settle. The spiral slowed, loosening its arms until it disappeared entirely. The froth faded away. All that remained was what had emerged from the water, now a solid and visible thing.

It was a boat, small in design. Its sail looked to be made of nothing more than gossamer. A single person stood inside—a man, dressed in a cape the color of sea foam. His face was turned to the sky, and he wore the oddest expression.

“Right, then, Dorian,” said Fife. “Got that sword at the ready?”

“Is that one of them?” asked Eliot. “Is that a nix?”

“Don't know what else it could be,” said Dorian. “Stay close, all of you. We still don't know if he's friendly.”

Lottie didn't budge. She remained next to Eliot, her boots touching the water. She saw now the reason for the nix's odd expression and upturned face: he was
blowing at the sail
. With each heave of his shoulders, the boat moved more swiftly toward the shore. It was soon so very near them that the nix dropped something large and fork-shaped over the edge—an anchor, Lottie guessed. Then he jumped into the water, which came up to his knees, and sloshed toward them, hands on hips.

For a sprite rumored to have sold his soul to the waters, he looked remarkably unremarkable. His features were plain, his build not particularly fat or skinny, tall or short. The only thing even slightly out of the ordinary about him was the shimmering cape that covered him from neck to toe. Rather than pool about him in the water as a normal cape would do, the material stayed close about his legs, as though it were a part of them. He stopped when only his feet remained in the water. At least, Lottie
assumed
there were feet under that cape . . . .

“You!” he called, pointing at Eliot. “You have summoned me for passage, have you?”

“Um,” said Eliot. “
Um
.”

Lottie squeezed his hand.

“Have you, or haven't you?” demanded the nix.

“I—I have,” Eliot said. He shifted in what looked like an attempt to stand tall. “I want you to take me and my friends to this place called the Wilders. Have you heard of it?”

The nix took a good look at Eliot. He took a good look at the others. Then he laughed.

“Impossible,” he said. “Have you seen my boat?”

Lottie had. It was small. Very small.

“Not a passenger more than three,” said the nix, wagging his finger at Eliot. “Choose two companions, if you like, but no more than that will I allow. Too treacherous to carry all of you.”

“But that's hardly fair!” Lottie cried.

“I made neither the riddle nor the boat,” the nix told Lottie. Then, turning back to Eliot, “Choose your companions.”

Eliot turned to the others and whispered, “What am I supposed to do?”

“You heard him,” said Dorian. “If you don't want to have thrown away all those letters for nothing, I suggest you pick two companions. Me, because I'm the only one who knows where to find the addersfork. And I imagine you'd like the other one to be Lottie.”

“Yes,” Lottie said quickly. “I need to be near him. In case . . . anything happens.”

To Lottie's surprise, Eliot looked annoyed. “It's not like my limbs are going to fall off in your absence, you know.”

“I—I know,” she stammered.

But—though Lottie didn't admit it out loud—she had her fears. She had known, ever since the boat capsized in the River Lissome, that something could easily separate her from Eliot. She didn't know what might happen once they reached the Wilders. She only knew that, so long as she could, she intended to keep Eliot by her side.

Eliot faced the nix again. “Dorian and Lottie,” he said. “Those are my two companions.”

“So be it,” said the nix, making a low bow in their direction. Lottie got the feeling he was mocking them. “Thus the passengers will be: Dorian, Lottie, and—what was your name, little one?”

“Eliot Walsch, sir. And, um, what are we supposed to call you?”

“When I was called something,” said the nix, “I went by the name of Sigeberht.”

“And I thought Dorian was bad,” muttered Fife.

“Tell us, Sigeberht,” said Dorian, “how long will it take your boat to deposit us at the cove of the Wilders?”

“I'd wager three hours at most,” said Sigeberht. “What you want there I shudder to think, but it's not my place to
ask. Now, we've squandered enough time gabbing. Board my boat, and let's be on our way.”

“This wasn't how I pictured things going,” Lottie told the others. “I'm sorry. The whole point in heading to the Wilders was not splitting up, and now we're splitting anyway.”

“There's a village called Darrow,” said Dorian. “It's farther inland, but not more than a mile back. Find the inn marked with the black diamond and show them this.” Here he handed Fife a circular pendant on a red cord, fished from his pocket. “That's your pass for free room and board. Don't expect frills. We'll be back within a day.”

“What?” said Lottie. “That quickly? But I thought—”

“Within a day,” Dorian repeated.

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” said Fife. “We'll lounge about in bed while you all fight off dragons and goblins.”

“Oh, stop it, Fife,” said Adelaide. “You're making Lottie nervous. Look, she's positively
shaking
.”

Lottie looked down to find that her arms were, indeed, trembling hard.

“It's nothing,” she said. “Just the cold.”

Oliver was staring at her with sharp green eyes.

“Exultation,” he said, “is the going of an inland soul to sea. Bred as we, among the mountains, can the sailor understand the divine intoxication of the first league out from land?”

The shaking in Lottie's arms began to subside, but she now had the most horrendous urge to burst into tears. She knelt beside the Barghest to hide her face.

“You know we'd take you, too, if I could,” she said. “But you'll protect the others while I'm gone?”

The Barghest bent its head and said, “I will do my duty.”

Lottie rose to her feet. “Well then,” she said, looking at no one in particular for fear that the urge to weep would come again, “we'll see you soon.”

“Better take off our shoes,” said Eliot, pointing out the distance between them and the boat, “unless we want to have wet feet the rest of the journey.”

So Lottie, Eliot, and Dorian waded into the sea, shoes in hand. The water was frigid, and Lottie's bare feet stung. She sloshed as fast as she could to the boat's edge, where Dorian and Sigeberht helped her aboard.

Eliot waved to the shore, where the Barghest, Oliver, Adelaide, and Fife stood watching. Only Fife waved back.

Sigeberht raised anchor. Then he lifted his face toward the sail and blew. The boat lurched with tremendous force. Each of the nix's breaths packed the energy of a squalling wind, and the harder he puffed, the faster the shore sped from view until the others were nothing more than specks on the horizon.

Lottie couldn't help herself from staring at Sigeberht much longer than was polite. She wondered if this gift of his
was a keen or if it was something beyond that—something he'd gained when he'd become a nix.

Then another thought came crashing into Lottie's mind. She frowned at the horizon.

“All right?” asked Dorian, taking notice.

“I just remembered something. Earlier, I gave the Barghest a command.”

“What's wrong with that? If anyone should be commanding a Barghest, it's you.”

“No, that's not it,” said Lottie. “The thing is, I gave the Barghest a command, and . . . it didn't obey.”

SUNLIGHT HUNG
heavy on the sea, glinting on the water in new ways with every bob of the boat. They glided along with a speed that Lottie couldn't quite get used to, even after an hour's worth of traveling. The wet wind blew Lottie's hair into her eyes and prickled at her neck. Sigeberht said nothing, only blew and blew, filling the sail and sending them on at a dizzying speed. They had reached a place where there was no land in sight, no matter which way Lottie turned. All was vast sea. It was beautiful, but it was frightening, too. Lottie tried not to think of what strange creatures were swimming below the surface. There was no telling in a place like Albion Isle.

“What did you mean, we'd be back within a day?” Lottie asked Dorian. “We've already been at sea at least an hour, and once we reach the Wilders, you'll have to blaze a trail to find the addersfork, won't you?”

Dorian didn't answer.

“
Hey
,” she said, kicking his foot. “What did you mean, we'd be back in a day?”

“You heard Sigeberht,” said Dorian. “It'll take three hours to get to the cove, three hours back. The addersfork grows on the cliffs of the cove, so our journey by land won't take long. All in all, it totals to less than a day.”

“But if the addersfork is that close to us,” Lottie said, “then the best way to get to it was by ferry all along!”

“The
shortest distance
was by ferry,” said Dorian. “That's not the same as the best way.”

“Nothing's gone wrong yet,” said Lottie. “I still don't see why you wanted to go the long route, even after the Barghest said there'd be soldiers waiting for us.”

Dorian cast a glance at Sigeberht, who was still busy filling the sail. He leaned in closer to Lottie, and Eliot, too, who had been attentively listening in.

“I told you,” said Dorian, “the nix have a bad reputation. More than that, I've heard soldiers talking about strange goings-on near the western coast—talk of bad magic. I think it's better to face a known danger than an unknown one. I'm
familiar with the Southerly Guard. I would've felt far safer fighting them off than I do now, crossing the sea with a nix.”

Lottie looked nervously at Sigeberht, afraid he might overhear Dorian, but he seemed just as preoccupied as ever with his work.

“The Wilders,” said Eliot, looking pensive. “It doesn't sound very friendly.”

“There's nothing about the Wilders that's
friendly
,” said Dorian. “Only the toughest or most desperate sprites choose to live there, and half who do don't make it through a winter.”

“But you made it,” Lottie pointed out. “Rebel Gem said you're one of the few sprites who has.”

Dorian smiled sadly. “I did, yes. Back when I was very young and very stupid.”

“Dorian,” said Lottie. “Do you think it's worth it? Do
you
think the addersfork will work?”

“There's no way of knowing. I like to hope it's true. If I wasn't hoping that, this entire journey of ours would be unbearably depressing. It's thanks to my time as a spy in the Southerly Court that the wisps have hairs directly from Starkling's head. Once they've got the addersfork, they'll have all they need to attempt the poisoning. And when that day comes, I guess we'll all just have to cross our fingers.”

“At least we're doing something,” said Eliot. “At least we're trying.”

Just then, a cry filled the air, whistling and melodic. Lottie looked up and saw a creature soaring overhead. It wasn't a bird—or at least, not any type of bird Lottie had seen before. Its wings were wide and flesh-like, its skin sandy brown. It looked, Lottie thought, a little like the manta rays she had seen on a Kemble School field trip to the aquarium, only rather than flap its fins through water, this creature flapped its wings through air. It had a tail, too, thin and long, feathered on its end.

“What
is
that?” asked Eliot.

“Look,” said Lottie, pointing. “There's another one. Another
three
.”

“They're flatrooks,” said Dorian.

Lottie shook her head in wonder. “Those don't exist in the human world.”