Call of Brindelier (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 3) (34 page)

Tib

The vials. Two more to get inside Brindelier, or five more if we want to beat The Dusk. The machine. I need one more propeller, and then just a ship. The sons. I sigh as I pace across the polished stone. Kaso Viro seems to think Errie is lost for good. That they used him already. I shiver and clench my fists. I can’t accept that. I won’t.

I glance at the heavy window drapes. The sun is coming up. It squeezes its way through the blue-green fabric and splashes the color onto the sandy stone. Outside, waves crash against the tower. I like the sound. It’d be soothing, I think, if I wasn’t so distracted. I cross to Rian’s bed. He’s completely burrowed into his blankets.
Let him sleep
, Shush had said before he went off to Kythshire.
He’ll need to be well-rested.

I pace faster, tugging my fingers through the knots in my hair. We can get Kythshire’s easily. Azi and Rian and the fae won’t have a problem with that. That leaves four: Ceras’lain, Elespen, Hywilkin, and Northern Haigh. Valenor had explained to me that the last three are Dusk Wellsprings. Dangerous. Guarded, even more than the Dawn. I think of the guardians at Kythshire and Sunteri and scowl. If the Dusk’s guardians are more difficult than that, we’re in trouble.

Or not
, I think to myself. A plan starts to form in my mind. Loren said they have two. The Dusk. They have two, and they have Errie. My heart starts to race. If I could get back to the stronghold, I’m sure I could find their offerings. Maybe I could find Errie, too. I glance at Rian again. Still sleeping. I wish I had a way to get there without him. I pause in my pacing and focus. I take a step into the shadows.

“The Sorcerer’s Stronghold,” I whisper, screwing my eyes tightly shut.

“What are you trying to do?” Shush’s whisper brushes my cheek like a soft breeze. Even so, it makes me jump. “Ha!” he exclaims with a gust. “Sorry to startle you, Tib.”

“Nothing, never mind,” I say with a shrug and step out of hiding.

“Oh, I’m glad it was nothing. I thought you might be doing something careless like trying to go to the Dusk all alone. And with the Sunteri offering right in your pocket, too. You’re smarter than that, though,” he whispers.

“Sure, I’m smarter than that,” I mumble and look away. He’s right. It would have been pretty dumb of me to bring the bottle right to them. I didn’t even think of that. I shake my head and rub my neck. “Can we wake him now, please?”

“I think he’s rested enough,” Shush nods.

As soon as he’s awake, I fill Rian in on my dream and the offering. Mevyn didn’t want to see him, but apparently Rian remembers enough of what happened in Sunteri to know why it was so easy for me.

Our farewell to Kaso Viro is quicker than I expected. He doesn’t even offer us breakfast. Just tells us to call on him if we need anything. Tells Rian to keep Aster, just in case. Rian doesn’t look overly thrilled about that, but he thanks Kaso Viro anyway. Loren offers us a quick goodbye and goes back to his dusting. I hope becoming a Mage is worth all that boring work to him.

“Home to plan, and to Mouli’s breakfast,” Rian grins as he puts a hand on my shoulder. “Ready?”

I nod, and he closes his eyes and whisks us away.

We arrive in a house. Rian’s, I think. Right away, I notice the difference. Cerion’s brighter than it had been when we left it, and it’s not just because it’s daylight. There’s some new magic here. Quiet, steady. Peaceful. Beautiful. It reminds me of Margy, somehow. Rian notices it, too. He goes to the window and pushes the shutters open. The summer sun beams in, nearly blinding us.

“Tib,” he says, and beckons me. “Do you feel that?” he asks as I cross to the window.

Shush bobs between us and turns his face to the sun. I look away from him, out toward the palace. I do feel it. Hope. Protection. It stretches out from the palace strangely. A feeling. Like bunches of pinpoints of light all over the city. Some places, there’s lots of it. Some places, there’s hardly any. I wonder why.

“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”

“It’s so perfect. So beautiful. What does it mean?” Rian whispers.

Our growling stomachs interrupt his musing.

“Right,” he says. “Breakfast and planning. Come on, you’ll be my guest.”

He leads me through into the meeting hall and skids to a stop. The guild hall is quiet. Eerily quiet. Empty. No food on the table. The fire in the hearth is just embers. Rian doesn't say anything. He just stands there, dumbfounded. Like the empty table is some devastating revelation.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Mouli?” he croaks and sniffs the air.

I do, too. Nothing. No sweet rolls, no sausages. No fresh bread.

“No breakfast today?” I ask.

“Never,” Rian says, going pale. “It’d never happen. Mouli!” he shouts, this time a little more urgently. He runs toward the kitchen and Shush and I exchange concerned glances and follow. Suddenly I think of Nessa, trapped in the closet, paralyzed.

“Mouli!” Rian calls again as he pushes open the door. The kitchen is empty. He looks over the block top, where empty trays are neatly stacked. Everything’s put away.

“Definitely no breakfast,” I say to Shush. “Maybe she took a day off.”

“She wouldn’t,” Rian croaks. “She doesn’t.”

He creeps toward the open half-door that leads out into the street and peers outside. “Mouli?” he calls weakly.

“Rian!” the old woman’s voice exclaims from a distance away. “What are you doing here? You should be at the palace with everyone else! Oh, dear! You haven’t come for breakfast, have you? I knew I should have made something. I told you, Luca!”

She rushes into the kitchen and immediately starts pulling things out of cupboards and making up a platter. Rian’s stomach growls again. He opens his mouth, closes it, and yanks Mouli into a tight hug.

“Thank the stars,” he whispers. “I was so scared.”

“Oh,” Mouli chuckles and hugs him back. “Figures the one time I don’t cook, you come looking. See this?” She touches her elbows around his waist. “If not for my own bosom, I could put my arms around you twice! Sit down, sit down. Tib, you too. Hm.” She squints past Rian at me and her brow goes up.

“Well, well,” she grins, “thought you were all at the palace! What’ll it be for you, then, little one? If you’re anything like Flitter, you’ll want your sugar cubes.”

Mouli slips out of Rian’s embrace, leaving him gaping from her to Shush in disbelief.

“Oh, indeed,” Shush darts closer to her to whisper. “I do enjoy those. Though, have you any more of those delightful sugared fruits that were out a few days ago? I very much liked those.”

“Wh—” Rian stares at the two of them in disbelief as she opens a clay canister and tosses Shush a sugared cherry. “You…you can…”

“Oh, right. Should have told you. We all came in this morning. From Kythshire. It was a big event. Too bad you missed it,” Shush whispers.

“Mmhm!” Mouli agrees cheerfully as she gathers up some cheese and bread. “It was quite a sight! That’s where everyone is, of course. The palace. Having breakfast with the elves and fairies. I thought you had gone, too. Sit, sit!”

She practically shoves Rian onto a stool. I sit, too, before she gets pushy. Beside me, Rian seems to be in some kind of trance. Like it’s too much for him to grasp. He’s trying to make sense of it. Mouli sets a plate in front of him, and nudges him when he doesn’t start eating.

“Eat!” she orders. “Before there’s nothing left of you!”

“So that spell, all those little hopeful points,” he says to Shush, “those were fairies?”

Shush laughs, “No, can you imagine? There aren't that many here now. They went back to Kythshire once dawn broke. Only Flitt and Twig and I are here now.”

Rian takes a bite of bread and chews thoughtfully.

“So what is that spell, then?” Rian asks.

“That’s the Princess,” he says. “Margy’s blessing.”

Rian chokes on his bread. He sputters and gulps from his mug and coughs.

“What?” he asks weakly. “The Princess?”

“Sure,” Shush whispers around a mouthful. “That’s why they came. To let everyone know her magic is permitted. She’s had it for a while now, poor child. That’s a big secret to keep.”

Rian’s eyes slide to Mouli and back to Shush.

“Are you sure it’s wise?” he whispers to the fairy.

“What? Oh, yes,” Shush nods. “Everyone knows now. There need to be a lot fewer secrets if we’re going to beat the Dusk. Speaking of which, weren’t we going to make a plan?”

The churning of my stomach over this news doesn’t trump my hunger. I keep shoving bread into my mouth while the other two talk. Margy’s secret isn’t a secret anymore. They’re going to have to keep her safe now. There’s bound to be people who’ll fear her. Who’ll try to hurt her. Who’ll think it’s too much power for a princess. I hope His Majesty realizes old Finn isn’t going to be enough protection now. I hope the king forgives her for her secret.

Between that, the offerings, Errie, and the machine, I have too much to think about. Too much to do. I start to eat faster. That’s when I notice their eyes on me.

“Whut?” I ask through a mouthful of cheese and melon.

“Rian asked if you’d be coming to the palace,” Shush whispers.

“We need to get everyone together, on the same page, and work out a plan. The palace is the safest place to do that, and everyone’s there already,” Rian says.

“You’re right,” I reply with a nod and finish what’s left on my plate in one mouthful. “Do you think you can start without me? I’m going to check on my contraption.” I sigh. “I was going to try and get it done without magic, but I don’t think that’s possible now. I’ll get Valenor to help.”

“Good idea,” Rian says. “We’ll need that finished sooner rather than later.”

“Take this,” I say, and hand him the red bottle. He accepts it with a reverent bow of his head.

“I know just the place for it,” he says quietly.

My walk from the Elite hall to the shed is strange without Zeze. I think of her, of Margy, as I make my way. Those days are gone. It makes me sad to think about it. I’ll miss her company, but there’s no way she’ll ever be able to join me in the streets again, cat or not. It’s too unsafe.

Redstone Row is quiet and pleasant this morning. People mill around in the streets in small crowds, excitedly talking about the Dawn procession. Margy’s spell pulses from some of them, but not others. As I pass them by, I try to understand it. It’s hard to at first, but the magic tells a story. Little pieces that put themselves together as I gather them. The spell was a choice. It fell on those who believed in her. Who would protect her. Who love her. If they wanted to, they could pass it on to others. I wonder whether they know that.

My shed is the same as ever on the outside. Chipped paint, barred door. I rest my hand on the latch. When I look at the door, something catches my healed eye. A figure inside. No, two. I see the outline of each of them. A man. A girl. Quietly, I take my hand away. Step back. Look harder. I can’t make out any more details, but I know who it is already. The likeliest pair to be lying in wait for me, in my own shed.

My pulse quickens. My face goes red. Did they see my invention? Did they steal it? No, I think to myself. They don’t care about that. They’re here for me. Defeating Osven bought me a little time, but I’m still not safe. They still need my help. They need me to tell them where the entrance is. The floating island. The gateway.

My instinct is to turn and run. To get as far away as I can from them. To tell the others, or palace guards. Get them arrested. Get them put away. I take a few steps back. Think about it a moment. About Errie. About the offerings. I take a step. Hide myself away.

“Valenor,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “Are you there?”

“As ever,” he replies from all around me. “What can I do for you, Tib?”

“Can you look,” I whisper, “and see whether my plans are down below?”

“They are,” he replies.

“Can you send an idea to Ruben and Raefe?” I ask.

“I can,” he replies. “Are you about to do something foolish, Tib?”

“I think so,” I murmur with my hand on the latch. “Will you stay with me?”

“I shall,” he says. “Though it might not seem so, I shall stand beside you.”

“This is a really stupid idea, isn’t it?” I ask him.

“One of your worst,” he replies, “though inevitable. Still, it holds promise.”

Inevitable is a good word, I think. I keep fighting these Sorcerers, this fortress. Fighting them, and being taunted by them. I know I’m supposed to go there again. Valenor knows it, too. Something inside me compels me to do it. Some little voice in the back of my mind knows I’ll end up there eventually. If I’m going again, I want it to be on my terms. I won’t let them trick me again. Won’t let them hurt anyone else I love, or surprise me.

“They’ll just think they did,” I whisper to Valenor.

“Indeed,” he replies.

I step out from hiding again and go back to the door. Look inside. See something else. Not just Celli and Dub. Something, or half of something. It shifts in and out, like a creature not quite there.