Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1) (8 page)

“How does it relate to the curse?” I ask, trying my best not to let my eyes stray to the windowsill where the cricket has started up again.

“That’s where the interesting nothing comes in,” he says. “I was halfway through a book of known curses when I found a page torn out. The page before that described something similar to what you’re experiencing. I found several tomes with similar pages gone, but I was able to piece a bit of information together nonetheless. One of them mentioned an affliction that was caused by crossing into unwelcome territory, which led me to the book with that spell.” He reaches up and slides his fingertips through his hair sheepishly. “I got a little distracted after that. I really wanted to learn it.”

“Typical.” The whisper from the pitcher is faintly audible alongside the cricket’s song, which stops abruptly. Again, Rian’s eyes snap to the source. He looks from it to me and I’m finally certain that he’s heard it, too. He brushes past, reaches for the pitcher, and starts to cast something, but then he stops and looks back at me.

“May I?” he asks. I nod, though I’m unsure what exactly he’s asking for permission to do. He picks it up and looks inside. I come to his side and peer in, too. The cricket and diamond are hidden behind the pile of fine scraps. Rian murmurs something in the scholar’s tongue and sudden pinpoints of light burst forth from the pitcher. A light, larger than the cricket but smaller than my palm shoots over my shoulder and lands on my bed with a soft “oof!” Rian and I exchange glances and I rush to the bed to get a closer look.

A tiny girl with beautiful iridescent wings at her back looks up at me, her arms crossed. Her skin is so light that it’s nearly translucent, and it shimmers beautifully. Her hair is done up in many pony tails across the crown of her head, each one a different color of the rainbow. The scowling narrow slits of her eyes are unlike anything I’ve seen before. They shift constantly from gold to green, from purple to pink. She’s dressed in a tiny skirt pieced together with shimmering bits of ribbon, some of which I recognize from Margary’s pitcher.  At her waist is a belt weighed down with several tiny pouches. Her corset, like her eyes, shifts in color according to the way the light plays on it. As she scowls up at us, everything about her reminds me of my diamond.

“Rude!” she squeaks, pointing across the room at Rian. “So rude!” His wide eyes are fixed on her in disbelief as he stands holding the pitcher. He looks at me and snaps his mouth shut. When I kneel down beside the bed to get a closer look, she stands up and flutters her wings until her toes are barely grazing the coverlet. Her lips are pressed tightly together and she brushes at her clothing and bare arms as if trying to clear something away. After a moment, she thrusts her finger back in Rian’s direction. “Take it off, you! It’s not nice!”

“Uh...” Rian leans away slightly, his mouth hanging open again. He looks at me with wide eyes and his shoulders slowly slide up to his ears. I look back at the fairy, who is now hovering at eye level with me, her nostrils flared in annoyance.

“Um...” I croak, barely able to muster any words through my utter disbelief. I clear my throat and my voice comes a little stronger. “Take what off?” Her light dazzles my eyes and I raise a hand to my brow to shade them. She scoots back in midair and rests a fist on her hip, the other hand still thrust at Rian. She jabs her pointer again.

“Revealer! He put a Revealer on me and I wasn’t ready yet! Take it off!” She darts across the room at him and stabs the tip of his nose with her finger. “Take it off right now!” Rian drops the pitcher and it rolls away from him as he claps a hand over his nose.

“Ow, cut it out.” He ducks away and she chases after him, catching his auburn side lock and tugging it with fury.

“Take it off!” she squeals.

“I don’t know how!” He yanks his hair away, sending her tumbling through the air. She rights herself just beside my head and hovers behind me.

“Typical!” she squeaks, “So typical!” She ducks behind my shoulder and I turn my head slowly to look at her. She’s absolutely smoldering with anger but when Rian takes a step closer, she darts away. “Don’t you come near me, you, you, Mage!” She spits the last word out with distaste.

“You’re real,” I whisper, staring at her. “A real fairy.”

“Well of course I’m a real fairy. I’ve only been sitting in that tin pot of yours for two days now waiting for you to notice me. Which, by the way, stinks of metal. This whole place stinks of metal and smoke and I don’t even know what. Did you know that? The ribbons are nice, though. I wonder how long I’d have stayed in there before you really believed in me. Maybe it’s better he put that spell on me, isn’t it? I mean it could have taken weeks! You’re a little thick, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” Rian warns, and she creeps around to hide behind my other shoulder.

“Well, really. Really, I’ve heard all sorts of things about your kind but I honestly didn’t believe half of it. And now that I’m here I realize it’s mostly true. Especially the part about Mages. I didn’t realize there’d be one so close by. I kind of wish I hadn’t agreed to come after all.” She wrinkles her nose at Rian.

“Well, since no one’s invited you, maybe you should just go!” He rubs his nose and the roots of his tugged hair simultaneously, scowling.

“Well I can’t do that, can I? I just now got back here. I’d have to wait for sunrise to go again. That’d be a waste anyway. Nothing to report. Unless you count utter disregard for my privacy! But they’d already expect that from your kind.” I look between them, trying to focus. There is a fairy in my room. A real one. They exist. I am not crazy, Rian sees her, too. We’re having a conversation with an actual fairy. I think of the dream, and the diamond.

“How long did you say you’ve been here?” I ask her.

“Well, I got here yesterday. So I guess it’s really just a day. But still.” I stoop to collect the pitcher that Rian dropped. The diamond clinks around inside, and I scoop it out to show her.

“Is this from you?” I ask.

“Hmph!” She crosses her arms and turns her shoulder toward me, “I’m not telling you anything with
him
in here.”

“Rian’s my best friend,” I say. “I’m going to tell him everything you tell me, anyway.” She immediately presses her lips together and shakes her head firmly. I sigh and look at Rian, who all at once seems bemused and insulted. On top of that, his eyes are framed with deep circles. He’s exhausted.

“Ah, I guess I’ll go to bed, then...” his voice trails off as he backs away to the door, his palms open and up. I’m grateful that he decides to use the stairs rather than slip through the wall again, for the fairy’s sake.

“So, Azi, what do you want to know?” She grins and bats her eyes sweetly, completely amiable once she’s sure Rian is gone.

“I...” I sit with my back resting against the bed. This is all so strange. “How do you know my name?” I ask. She comes to hover at my knee, her pretty wings almost invisible as they flutter to keep her aloft.

“Well, your mother told me.” She answers casually, her eyes fading from blue to lavender. She glances up at the hatch, which I’ve left open, and she flies up to slide it closed. It’s a struggle for her at first and I start to get up to help her, but she manages it on her own and eventually clicks the latch over the bar.

“My mother? When? Do you know where she is?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she raises a hand to stop me as she drifts back down, “That’s not how we play.” she points at me. “You ask a question,” she points to herself, “and then I ask a question. Then, you. Then, me. Then, you. Then, me. You, me, you, me, you, me. Got it?” She nods sagely and folds her arms. I bite my lip. This is a game to her, but not to me. She’s spoken to my mother. She might know where she is. Still, I doubt she’ll tell me anything unless I play by her rules.

“Fine,” I say, “Your turn.”

“Why are you friends with that stinky Mage?” she wrinkles her nose and rolls her eyes in the direction of Rian’s room.

“He isn’t stinky. I think he smells wonderful. Like old books and incense.” I smile, and she blinks at me.

“Old books are dead trees. And incense is burnt plants. And you didn’t answer the question.” She scowls. I sigh.

“Rian is my friend because we grew up side by side. We’ve been together through everything for as long as I can remember. He cares about me, and I care about him. He’s a good person.” I glance up at the hatch. I really am lucky to have him in my life.

“Your turn!” she drifts down to stand on my bent knee.

“When did you see my mother?” I ask, barely feeling her there.

“Yesterday. My turn! What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue. Where did you see her?”

“In Kythshire.” She sniffs at the fabric of my trousers and wrinkles her nose, then hovers up again, “Who made the pretty little house for me?”

“Princess Margary.” I pause, thinking, “Is she safe?”

“Is who safe? Princess Margary? How should I know? I haven’t met her. She makes a lovely house though. It really is sweet, with all of the ribbons. Do you think she minds that I’ve taken a few of them?”

“No, she wouldn’t mind,” I say. It occurs to me that she’s broken her own rule by asking several questions at once, but I don’t want to anger her by pointing it out. I think of how delighted little Margy would be to see a fairy here, a real fairy. I’d love to introduce the two of them. They’d get on well. “What’s your name?” I ask.

“Well, you can call me Flit.” She darts across the room and back again. “I flit here, I flit there. Do you have any sugar cubes or fruit juice?” She asks. I think of the little cubes in Margy’s fairy house and Sarabel’s handful in the garden. My thoughts meander through that afternoon that seems so long ago now. The sun was so beautiful that day, glittering through the summer leaves overhead. It was such a perfect afternoon. I sigh and smile, and rest my head back against my soft mattress remembering Margary’s sweet laughter. “Ahem!” Flit coughs and flies up to look into my face.

“Sorry...” I think for a moment. “Was it my turn?” I had something important I wanted to ask, but the question escapes me now.

“No, I asked you if you had some juice or sugar, but you didn’t answer me.”

“Oh, right. I think I do. I’ll go check.” I get all the way to the kitchen before I blink back to my senses. I was trying to find out about my mother, but the conversation got unhinged. I don’t know who to be angrier with, Flit for leading it astray or myself for allowing her to. I grab a handful of sugar and take the stairs back up two at a time. Flit is waiting for me on the edge of her pitcher, where the cricket is singing softly again. “Here,” I say. “Please don’t do that again.” She looks up at me and studies my face for a moment, then breaks into laughter.

“I’m just playing the game,” she grins, “Games are supposed to be fun, you know.” She takes a cube and crunches into it, chewing happily. “Your turn,” she says around a mouthful. I take a deep breath and tick down the mental list of what I need to know about. My mother, and my father, too, and then the diamond. I’m sure she can answer everything I need to know. Maybe even tell me about the curse.

“Is my mother safe?” I ask.

“I imagine so. Is your hair always just yellow, or does it change?” She licks her lips and takes another bite, humming happily to herself.

“It’s always yellow...” I press my fingertips to my eyes and try to focus. She isn’t giving me very thorough answers, and it’s beginning to annoy me. “Flit, please. My mother is very dear to me. All that I know right now is that she’s missing and we don’t know why or how or whether she’s safe. I just need to know what’s going on. Please.”

“Well, that isn’t really a proper question.” She shakes her head and licks her fingers.

“Well, ‘I imagine so’ isn’t really a proper answer, is it?” I snap. “Tell me what’s going on!”

“Really, it’s an easy game, and fun if you know how to ask your questions.” She dips into the pitcher and lies on her stomach on the bed of silk and lace with her chin in her hands. The cricket comes up to settle beside her and she pats him sweetly on the head. I think for a while. What she’s told me already is that my mother is in Kythshire, and she saw her yesterday, and that she imagines she’s safe. What I want to know is why she stayed, and didn’t come out with my father. And why my father came out so broken.

“My mother and her friends were sent to return a lost treasure to your land. Do you know if she returned it?”

“Yes, I know.” She grins. “Do you know why she was sent to return it?”

“Well, the king sent her. It was to repay a debt, he said.” I chew my lip. She didn’t answer properly. I think carefully on how to form the question to get the answer that I want.

“Was my mother successful in returning the lost treasure?” I ask.

“Good job! See? You’re getting better. Yes, she returned it.” She holds up one of the sugar cubes, “Do you want one?”

“No, thank you.” I wait a moment for her to ask her question and I realize she’s counting that as one. “Why didn’t she come back?”

“She promised she’d help us. She’s very sweet, your mum.” I nod. That sounds right. “Did you mean it when you said you’d tell the stinky Mage everything I say?”

“Everything,” I say, “You said before that you wish you hadn’t agreed to come. What was it you agreed to?”

“I agreed to watch over you and let your mother know how you’re doing here at home in exchange for her staying to help us.” She stretches and yawns, “I’m bored of the game now. I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.” She scoots around so her feet are all I can see poking out of the edge of the pitcher. Before I can protest, she’s sound asleep. Her feet flicker for a moment and disappear. I lean close to listen and can hear her breathing very softly, masked by the cricket’s soft chirp. Feeling defeated, I slip out of my trousers and crawl into my own bed. Though my mind is racing with all of the questions I ought to have asked, sleep finds me quickly.

It isn’t long before the dreams come again. I’m standing in a lush golden field of wheat which brushes gently at my legs and fingertips as it bends and flows in the cool, sweet breeze. Overhead, the midday sun shines brightly in a cool, impossibly blue sky. I have been here before, I know. But last time, I was lying in the grass and couldn’t see all around me. Now I can see that the wheat stretches far and wide. A thin strip of black on the horizon is the only thing that separates gold from blue. I watch the breeze blow the fronds in beautiful waves that remind me of a vast, golden ocean. Slowly I turn and take in my surroundings. Behind me, on the horizon opposite the black strip of mountain, a lush green forest towers over the field. I can make out many different types of trees: firs, elm, and willow. They are such a long way away but so immense in size that I imagine they must be centuries old. I turn back to the mountains again and see a storm brewing. A massive black cloud flashes violently over the mountain, and a gray smudge of rain falls between them.

Behind me, the wheat comes to life. I hear the chatter of small creatures, and the song of birds and frogs and katydids and crickets in beautiful harmony. The music is beautiful and enticing. I am about to turn toward it when a flicker of ruby catches my eye in the direction of the storm. I look closer and I realize that the wheat in the distance ends, and the stretch between field and mountain is heaped with endless treasure. Gold and silver, emerald and ruby spill out onto the wheat in great piles. I feel myself pulled in two directions at once. The treasure entices me. It could buy all of a small kingdom such as Cerion, but it’s right in the path of the storm. It also doesn’t belong to me. I’m not a thief.