The Solstice Cup (10 page)

Mackenzie tried to sleep in a chair while she waited for Nuala's return, but she was too upset. The hours passed slowly as she and Breanne did their best to ignore each other. Mackenzie was almost relieved when she finally heard the tinkling sound of Nuala's belled slippers approaching in the corridor.

“Here comes our evil faery godmother,” Breanne said as she threw her legs over the side of the bed. “Quick, give me some of those berries.”

“I don't think so,” Mackenzie said from her seat in the opposite corner of the room.

“What do you mean, ‘I don't think so'?”

“You owe me an apology first,” Mackenzie said as she stood up. “For once, I'm going to hear you say you're sorry.”

Breanne's eyes went to the doorway. “We don't have time for this, Mackenzie. Come on, give me those berries.”

Mackenzie shrugged. “Maybe I don't have any left.”

“Don't be stupid,” Breanne hissed. “Just give me some of the freakin' berries, before it's too late!”

Mackenzie's heart was racing, but she shook her head. “Not until you apologize.”

Nuala and two of her attendants appeared in the doorway before Breanne could say anything more.

“You're both still here—wonderful,” said the faery. She signaled her servants to step forward with two heavy cloaks in their arms. Mackenzie ignored her sister's scathing expression as she accepted one of the cloaks and put it on.

“Is something wrong?” said Nuala, looking pointedly at Breanne.

Breanne had taken her cloak from the second gray-hooded girl and draped it over the back of the nearest chair. “I don't really feel like going out this evening. But thanks for the invitation anyway.”

Nuala's eyes narrowed. She said something in her own language, and the nearest attendant picked up the cloak and handed it to the faery. “I'm afraid staying behind isn't an option,” Nuala said calmly as she arranged the cloak around Breanne's shoulders. “Everyone rides on the third night of the solstice festival. It's just the way it is.”

Mackenzie saw Breanne stiffen as if she'd received a shock when the faery fastened the clasp at her neck. Mackenzie bit her lip and looked away.

The closer they got to the courtyard, the guiltier Mackenzie felt for withholding the bogberries from Breanne. She fingered the pouch under her cloak as she hurried down the crowded corridor. She had counted the shriveled berries it contained that morning. There were thirty berries, enough for her and Breanne to have three berries each for the remaining nights of the winter festival. But Breanne was out of reach on the other side of Nuala, and the faery had them both firmly by the arms.

Mackenzie heard the pipes playing before they'd even reached the giant doorway to the courtyard. Her stomach did a somersault. “I'm sorry!” she mouthed to Breanne as they were swept through the portal in a crush of excited faeries.

Breanne didn't blink. Her eyes were ice chips, her face a blank mask. “I hate you,” she mouthed back.

Something snapped inside Mackenzie. “Fine, be like that,” she whispered angrily, her fingers already scrabbling inside the pouch. She checked that no one was watching and slipped half a dozen berries into her mouth. Her eyes welled up instantly. She had to force herself to swallow the sour fruit.

She forgot about her taste buds and everything else when she saw the courtyard. It was packed with the strangest beasts she'd ever seen. Foxes with hooves skittered between the legs of gigantic centipedes. Goats with iridescent wings pawed the air. A terrifying animal with the body of a horse and the head of an eagle rose up on its hind legs as a faery leaped onto its back. There were ponies with scales and lizards with feathers, giant bug-eyed grasshoppers and moths with wings the size of sails.

“Do you see any you like?” Mackenzie heard Nuala shout as an enormous eel with three riders came thrashing past.

Mackenzie was speechless. Even Breanne looked dumbfounded.

Nuala tilted her head back and let out a wild laugh. “It's my favorite night of the year!” She tightened her grip on the girls' arms. “Come on, we'll find something gentler for you to ride.”

“Something gentler” was a shaggy pony with dragonfly wings for Mackenzie, and a white, otter-like creature the same size as the pony for Breanne.

“Climb up, quickly,” Nuala hissed in Mackenzie's ear. “You'll be trampled if you're still on the ground when the first mount takes off.”

Mackenzie's pony made a faint nickering sound as she grabbed hold of the base of its mane and pulled herself up. Getting around the wings was difficult, but the pony cooperated by standing still. Mackenzie found the securest position she could, pressing her legs against the pony's forelegs and wrapping her arms tightly around the pony's neck.

Breanne was already mounted when Mackenzie looked up. The otter-creature seemed to be trying to shake her sister off, but Breanne's arms and legs were wound tightly around the otter's body. Her mouth was set in a determined line.

Nuala appeared an instant later on a silver mount with the head and forelegs of a horse and the tail and hind legs of a giant lizard. “Hold tight!” Mackenzie heard her shout. “We're about to ride!”

Mackenzie became aware of the pipes again for the first time since swallowing the bogberries. The muffled notes rose above the din around them. Mackenzie's pony pawed the ground, anxious to be off. Mackenzie felt her own muscles tense as the piper played a single, sustained note that made everything seem to vibrate.

A great
crack
split the sky with the force of a thousand whips. Mackenzie tightened her limbs and grabbed fistfuls of shaggy fur as the pony hurtled forward. The ground was a blur beneath them, and then it was nothing at all as the pony took off into the air. They joined the other mounted beasts, a train of leaping, thrashing shadows climbing into the night. Mackenzie buried her head in the pony's mane, clinging blindly to its back. A voice cried out somewhere ahead of them, and the pony wheeled sharply to the left. The voice cried again, and the pony wheeled to the right. Mackenzie tasted the berries she'd eaten rising in her throat. She had to fight not to throw them up.

Time lost its meaning as the wild ride stretched on through the night. The piper's music traveled with them, sometimes calling the riders from ahead, sometimes goading them from behind. Mackenzie's muscles burned with the effort of staying on her mount. The music was like a distant soundtrack of her agony.

“Please,” she prayed desperately, her eyes shut tight, “help me hold on—help us both hold on until we get wherever we're going.”

The ride went on and on. Mackenzie had almost given up hope that it would ever end when she felt her mount descend sharply. There was a shock of impact as the pony's hooves met something solid. She opened her eyes a crack. The sky was alight with sheets of pale green flame stretching in every direction. Beneath the sky, the pony galloped across an uneven landscape of rocks and brambles.

The pipes grew louder. Mackenzie wasn't sure if they were getting closer, or if the effect of the bogberries was wearing off. The beasts in the wild ride slowed and came to an uneasy stop back in the courtyard where they'd begun. Mackenzie heard a single note rise above the others, and the sky grew even brighter. She covered her face just before the sky exploded.

She didn't open her eyes again until she felt a hand touch her thigh. She expected Nuala, but it was one of the faery's attendants instead. With the girl's help, Mackenzie dismounted. Her breath was ragged. Standing upright was painful, even with the servant's arm supporting her. “Where's my sister? Where's Breanne?” she croaked.

Mackenzie searched the attendant's face, but it was vacant as always. “Please,” she begged, her heart pounding. “Take me to Nuala!”

The girl led her through a tangle of pawing, snorting beasts. The sky was dark again. By torchlight, Mackenzie saw a ring of faeries gathered around the flat stone at the center of the courtyard. There were two figures inside the circle. The taller figure held a two-handled cup, brimming with a luminescent liquid. She passed it to the figure in white.

“Stop!” Mackenzie cried.

She was too far away. Breanne was already lifting the cup to her lips.

“No!” Mackenzie shouted as she forced her way through the circle of faeries.

Nuala had already taken the cup back when Mackenzie reached her sister's side. “Please, Breanne,” Mackenzie begged. “Tell me you didn't do it. Tell me you didn't really drink anything!”

“It's done,” Nuala said, her eyes shining. “Why are you so upset? The solstice fire healed your sister's leg, as I said it would.”

Mackenzie grabbed her sister's hands, ignoring the faery. “Are you all right? Breanne—look at me. Breanne!”

Breanne turned. There was no recognition in her eyes.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

T
wo gray-hooded attendants escorted Mackenzie and Breanne back to their chamber. Mackenzie couldn't tell whether her sister was limping or not. Breanne's limbs were like spaghetti. The attendant helping Breanne almost had to carry her at times. When they reached their room, Breanne's escort helped her out of her gown and into the canopy bed. Breanne began to snore softly the instant her head hit the pillow.

Mackenzie slipped under the covers beside her sister as soon as the attendants were gone. Every muscle in her body ached from the faery ride, but she was wide awake. She stared at the silk canopy above her head for the remainder of the night, listening anxiously to each breath that entered and left her sister's body.

In the early hours of the morning, Breanne began to give off an alarming amount of heat. Mackenzie felt her sister's forehead and withdrew her fingers quickly, as if she'd touched a hot iron.

“Breanne!” Mackenzie whispered urgently. “Breanne, you're burning up—you have to wake up!”

Breanne didn't stir.

Mackenzie yanked off all the covers and leaned over her sister. “Breanne, please—wake up!”

There was a candle near the bed. Mackenzie grabbed it and scoured the room. She found a pitcher of water and ran back to pour it over her sister's body.

Breanne's eyes fluttered open. “It's all falling apart,” she mumbled. “You can see it if you look sideways. Everything's crumbling.”

“What did you say?” Mackenzie grabbed her sister's hand. “Breanne, you're not making any sense.”

“I'm so tired,” said Breanne. “Let me sleep.”

Mackenzie was still clutching Breanne's hand when Nuala appeared in the doorway later in the morning. Mackenzie jumped to her feet.

“What's wrong with my sister?” she demanded in a strained voice. “She's on fire! I can't get her to drink anything—I can't even get her to wake up! What did that stuff do to her?”

“You need to be patient,” Nuala said calmly as she came toward the bed. “Of course she's tired. That just shows the solstice fire is working. She'll be awake again in a few days, rested and renewed.”

“In a few days? But you said she was healed last night.”

“I said her
leg
was healed last night,” the faery corrected. She leaned over and brushed Breanne's forearm with her fingertips. “Be honest—there are other things about your sister that need adjusting. How stubborn she is, for example. Her nasty temper.”

Mackenzie shook her head. “You didn't say you were going to change her.”

Nuala sighed as she turned to Mackenzie. “It's sweet how much you care about your sister. Really it is. But you need to look after yourself. Look at you. You've got huge circles under your eyes. You're shaking. You look awful.”

Mackenzie held her breath as the faery took both of her hands.

“Listen—if you're so worried about your sister, why don't you join her? Then you'll see for yourself how safe she is.”