Fairy Keeper (22 page)

Sierra felt cold all the way to her bones, and her fingernails were a light shade of blue. The faun seemed utterly unconcerned by the wind whipping by, freezing their noses, but Sierra appreciated the warmth of the soup cup in her hands. The faun drank some, holding Corbin’s cup between wide hands that shook only a little. The faun didn’t try to communicate, not with signs or with writing or speech, but his eyes followed Sierra wherever she went. Maybe he was drawn to her the same way she was drawn to him.
Magic.

She sighed.

They only had three bedrolls, so Corbin, being Corbin, offered his bedroll to the faun before Sierra could even wonder what to do. The faun refused, though, and lay down in the grass at the edge of the clearing. Sierra shrugged, imagining that was how he normally slept.

As the campfire died out, Nell squatted on her heels beside Sierra. “You know you can’t take him with us, right?”

“How can we not?” Sierra protested. The thought of leaving him behind felt too wrong to consider. She simply couldn’t.

“Easy. We say, ‘Got the arrow out of you, sorry about that, good luck now’ and off he goes to frolic in the woods. Sierra, if you want to get back to your sister, you can’t adopt a stray pet!”

Anger flared from Nell’s choice of words.

“He’s not some wild animal, Nell. Look at him! Could you really send him into a winter forest with a bad wound, with human eyes staring back at you as you walk off?”
Actually, Nell could
, Sierra thought. But
she
couldn’t.

When Nell didn’t respond, Sierra pressed her point, voice harsh but still a whisper. “It’s not an option. He can’t hunt or gather with that kind of pain. It was my fault. He’s a magical creature, like our fairies. And what if he gets infected?”

The faun tilted his head toward them, and Sierra wondered exactly how good a faun’s hearing was. He was obviously not really asleep.

She continued, “I won’t leave him. We’ll figure out a way to keep him from slowing us down. Deal with it.”

She was too tired for this discussion. She scowled and returned to lie down on her bedroll. She’d figure out a way to find a queen to save her sister and keep her honor, too. She had to.

The next morning, Sierra’s vision was completely normal again, and she could move without falling. She started to call over to the faun to check on him but realized she didn’t have a name for him. Calling him Faun seemed too impersonal in the face of his pain and clear intelligence. But with him unable to tell them his name, assuming he had one, she saw no choice but to give him one herself. She sorted through various possibilities. Suddenly, she had a memory of playing with an imaginary friend when she was little, when Phoebe was still a baby. Sierra had called him Micah, and in her mind, he had brown eyes, brown hair and lived in her forest where she already spent so many hours. The name suited the faun. She smiled.

Nell asked, “What?”

“I have a name for him, if he likes it.”

“Let me guess,” Nell said. “Faun?”

She chuckled, and so did Corbin.

Sierra considered sticking out her tongue but opted for the high road. “I was thinking Micah, actually.”

They looked at her like
she
had turned into a faun.

“Micah? A faun named Micah?”

Laughter broke loose from them both, though Corbin obviously tried to restrain himself.

Sierra shrugged. Their opinions were irrelevant. She paced over to the faun, who was sitting on the boulder Corbin used last night. The bandage already showed red, making her wince. She knelt beside him. “Is it okay if I call you Micah?”

She held her breath.

Sierra’s reflection was clear in his wide, nearly black eyes, and long lashes curled up from them. The girls in town would have killed for eyes like his. He nodded slowly.

“Micah, then. Nice to meet you.” A smile bloomed unexpectedly across Sierra’s face, followed by one on his.

It was time to get moving, despite the difficulties. Traveling through a thick forest on the fabled Skyclad Mountains with an enforcer, a klutzy scholar, a keeper with strange visions, and a wounded faun would be a challenge.

They picked up where they left off, moving slower than they had been two days before. Nell grumbled at Sierra, irritated that she’d brought a wounded faun, but since Nell couldn’t move quickly anyway thanks to her shoulder, she had no room to complain. It made Sierra anxious to move so slowly, but there wasn’t anything else to do but press forward as best they could.

By mid-afternoon, they reached an area of trees so dense it was hard to tell which direction actually went up the mountain.

“So, which way?” Sierra asked. They could have flipped a coin if they had one left.

Corbin thought for a moment. “I don’t think it matters, as long as it feels like we’re heading higher. If fairies are still around, seems like maybe they’d be as far as possible from humanity.”

Micah snapped around to meet Sierra’s gaze. His mouth didn’t move, but he vibrated with energy. He tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows, like he was asking a question. For the first time, he was really communicating on purpose. Sierra almost slapped her hand on her forehead. Of course, the faun was the one to ask! This was his home, if he’d help.

The others weren’t looking at him as they discussed which direction they’d take. Sierra stepped close to him, though, close enough for his scent to slide around her. Her fingers itched to touch the soft fur again, but she forced them to her side instead.

“We need help. Have you seen fairies around?”

He nodded, and she shouted in excitement. The others gathered around them.

“Will you lead us?” Sierra asked.

Micah spread his hands wide and shook his head.

She hazarded a guess. “You don’t know where they are now?”

He shook his head.

Of course he didn’t know
, thought Sierra. That would have been too easy. Disappointed, she sighed and turned, facing what she thought was the incline of the mountain. The ground was getting steeper, and snow stuck in clumps.

“Can you at least tell us which way goes higher up the mountain?” she asked him.

Micah nodded and pointed toward their left, beyond two particularly tall trees. Given that no one else had any better ideas, they decided they might as well go in the direction he suggested.

They settled into a rhythm over the next few days. They wore all their winter layers as they climbed higher and higher: coats, hats, scarves. There were few words, as everyone needed their breath to keep up the hike. Micah helped with meals. He was so gentle that even Nell stopped complaining about him. Corbin assisted Nell when she couldn’t do something one-armed. Sierra helped Micah when he needed to lean on someone. But he was getting stronger quickly, healing faster than Nell.

Finally, they reached a section of the mountains that dead-ended in front of them. They would have to go around the sheer rock face by turning left or right, in one of two different ways up the mountain, but no one knew which one would be best, not even Micah. They didn’t have time to wander aimlessly. They needed to know which direction to turn. The trees reached so high into the sky that they crowded out even the sun.

Frustration ate at Sierra. She stepped away from the others for a moment, needing a break from their debating. She closed her eyes and tried to think which would be the best choice. She remembered Queen, her golden glow, and wished more than anything to see her at that moment.

Which way? This way or that?

As Sierra turned to her right to examine one of the possible choices, the sound of dry rustling, like a thousand wings in flight, crashed over her. The taste of nectar filled her mouth, sweet honey and cinnamon. Stunned, she paused for a long moment. Was this the next step in her hallucinations? Was she getting worse? When nothing else happened, she examined the other way around the rock. The sounds and tastes faded to nothing. Intrigued, she faced right again, and once more the fluttering of wings filled her awareness, and sweetness flooded across her tongue. Was she losing her mind?

Then the world flickered in a rainbow of colors; an image floated superimposed over the mountain before her. It was a cave entrance, with gilded lilies blooming on either side of its black mouth. Green grass grew around the cave like an island, surrounded by thick snow on the ground. Impossible. An urgent need pressed against her heart. She
needed
to be at that place. The snow crunched under her boots in her mind as she stepped into the cave…

Her vision stopped flashing, leaving her in the here and now, aching with a strange sadness. Her lips still tasted of nectar. She realized she was sitting with her head between her knees, her braid hanging over one shoulder, the end of her hair brushing the ground. Her skin felt fevered. Her scarf and hat lay on the forest floor, and Corbin knelt beside her, fanning her rapidly with his hat, brow creased with concern. She didn’t even remember sitting down. Micah was next to her, eyes wider than ever. When Sierra looked up at him, he pointed to the back of his neck and then at her, the question plain on his face.

“Yeah, I’m a fairy keeper.”

His brow furrowed, and he took two steps back, limping from his injury. His wide-eyed expression was hard to decipher, but it could have been horror, or perhaps disgust. Shock was a certainty.

An inexplicable sadness rose in her at his rejection. She’d tried to help him, and now, well, she guessed if she were a magical creature, she’d be afraid of anyone who somehow harnessed magic too. He couldn’t know about the elixirs, though, could he? Tiredness tugged at her. Not only the kind of exhaustion that needed a good eight hours of sleep, either.

She was tired of worrying about her sister, tired of seeking a fairy she didn’t want, tired of Corbin and Nell. The one thing Sierra wasn’t tired of yet was this new, interesting person-creature, but he acted horrified by her. She was more of a beast to him than he was to her. Maybe she
was
a monster for what she did, stealing from her own fairies. Jack certainly was, and she was his daughter, after all. Keepers should be protecting fairies from people like Jack, not working for them. She laid her head on her knees, too tired to move. She needed to go to that cave, but she didn’t know where it was, and right then, her heart was so heavy it tied her feet to the ground.

A long moment passed in silence. Corbin clamored to his feet and handed Sierra her scarf and hat, squeezing her hand in silent support as he did so. Micah unexpectedly sat beside her, breathing softly, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him and possibly see revulsion on his face.

Corbin and Nell waited without a word. A lark sang somewhere in the trees far above them. The wind blew against Sierra’s naked neck, colder than ever against her skin, except on her mark, which simmered like it was bathed in summer sun. Standing felt beyond her.

Tentative fingers touched the top of Sierra’s hair, a caress. Micah slid his hand down her hair, stopping before the keeper mark. When he lightly touched her mark, warmth flowed along her spine. He brushed his hand on her hair again, reminding Sierra of the way Phoebe would comfort herself by petting Sierra’s hair. She squeezed her eyes closed and discreetly pinched her leg to bring herself back to the present. No time to cry over her sister, or over a faun who found her frightening but showed kindness anyway, or over wild visions that seemed absolutely insane. She tried to relax and wondered what those visions could mean.

A thought drifted quietly through Sierra’s mind. Maybe her queen really was alive and was calling her. The thought felt so right it almost hurt, like Nell’s shoulder snapping into place. Sierra surged up; Micah nearly fell on his fluffy tail. But he stood next to her, almost as if she had ordered him to be a bodyguard for her instead of her trying to help him.

Nell waved her hand back and forth in front of Sierra’s eyes. “Are you seeing weird things again?”

Sierra wasn’t, but as she faced her right, the taste of honey and cinnamon burst on her tongue again. She tilted her head, tasting the potent flavor, so real, so pleasant.

“What would you say if I told you I think we’re supposed to go that way? That maybe… maybe somehow I can sense my queen?” Sierra asked, pointing the direction she was facing. “It sounds crazy, but maybe it takes something crazy to solve the situation we’re in?”

Nell shrugged. “You’re the fairy keeper around here.”

She quickly looked at Corbin, realizing her mistake. Corbin’s face was strange. His skin looked stretched too tight, and dark lines furrowed between his eyebrows. His hands were in fists. He slowly reached to the back of his neck and touched his mark. Nothing happened.

“Why?” His voice was hoarse.

Sierra closed her eyes. She knew what he was asking but had no answers. Nell looked perplexed.

Sierra opened her eyes, forcing herself to meet his anguished gaze. “I don’t know. You don’t taste anything right now?”

He shook his head, his face crumpling.

Nell stepped closer to him, glaring at Sierra. Even without knowing what was wrong, Nell was obviously sure Sierra was to blame. If Corbin wanted Nell to know he had been left out by the fairies, he could share. Sierra would give this up in a heartbeat. If weird lights and taste of nectar were guiding her to the fairies, she would rather pass on the experience than be this out of control. Corbin would have loved to be consumed this way. His face darkened like a raincloud crossing the sun, on the fine line between anger and grief. It was an expression Sierra was used to on her face, not his. It wasn’t a look that suited him.

“This way,” Sierra said, unsure what words of comfort to offer.
Sorry the fairies aren’t talking to you
?
Maybe your fairy is really dead after all
? Nothing worked.

They plunged through the trees, directed by Sierra. Each time she paused to choose a possible path, she waited to see if the taste of honey and cinnamon covered her tongue, or the world went psychedelic as if she were on Flight. The episodes reminded her of the fits Gregory the Fisherman used to have, down on the pier. His whole body would convulse, but when he was done he’d dust himself off and wander off unharmed, every time. Sierra’s head felt full of static, a storm looming. Micah followed her like a shadow as they dodged trees, roots, and scrabbly fingers of bushes. The leaves crunched beneath their feet, and soon fresh snow dusted the ground like sugar.