Fairy Keeper (35 page)

She drew herself up as straight as she could, given that she was floating. “I expect I will have to call on the fairy queens to attack the people of this port to save my sister, yes.”

Tristan nodded with satisfaction. Any magical creature understood the likely results of that scenario.

They sped through the water so fast that a steady stream of bubbles rushed across Sierra’s skin. The young merman held her and Micah’s hands and pulled them along in his wake as if they weighed nothing. She supposed down here, in a way, they didn’t.

The journey was surreal, cloaked in silence except for the soft swish of water swirling past them. They went deeper, the sunlight fading until only faint streaks of light touched the coral and tangled plants growing along the bottom like a small forest. She could almost swear the seawee’s skin itself seemed to glow with its own dim light, illuminating their passage. Sierra found she was thankful, so thankful, for Micah’s presence. He believed in her, which was even more important than ever now that she’d been plunged, so to speak, into a rebellion. Her mission had unexpectedly gotten bigger. It was a burden, but one he seemed willing to share with her. She filed the thought away and focused again on the task before her now. Sierra wanted to help the merfolk if she could, but Phoebe was her reason for living.

In a matter of minutes, they reached the edge of the fortress, the peak that jutted out the farthest into the sea. Crumbling, algae-covered rocks anchored the fence lining the entire peninsula. But this far under the water there were holes where the rock had crumbled away from the stress of a thousand earthquakes.

“Up that hole, there.” Tristan pointed to a dark, narrow channel.

Sierra’s skin crawled to look at it.

“If you swim up the hole, you will surface in a small eddy inside the fence where Bentwood’s men try to grow tiny clams for easy harvest. The clams never seem to flourish―because we keep taking them at night and letting them grow wild in the ocean.” He laughed, a sparkling sound that demanded a smile in return. “They leave the area empty of guards quite often, since there is no strategic attack point they know about on this side of the peninsula. It’s the best I have to offer. I will come by later to see if you need help, but I cannot make any promises.”

His offer was more than they had dared hope. Micah and Sierra exchanged a triumphant glance. They had a secret way into Bentwood’s fortress, a way he and his guards knew nothing about. Corbin and Nell would reach the port’s main square soon, but Sierra had no way to let them know that she and Micah were in place. Sierra’s fairy couldn’t come underwater, but she called to her, trying to use the new wordless link between them to help her track them.

Queenie!
Sierra ran her fingers along her keeper mark and hoped the fairy heard. They would need her soon. They had a lot of work to do today.

he courtyard was empty except for the tiny ocean pool from which Sierra and Micah arrived. Sunlight burned bright against eyes already used to the darker water. The very lack of people around the area made her instantly nervous.

Micah touched her back and whispered, “This is far too open.”

It was true.

Two stone columns stood to their right, leading into an open-air breezeway. Walls lined the path like towering giants along either side. Sierra had traveled this walkway before, as her father’s daughter during a visit between the leading families. The cobblestoned lane wound around and around until it reached the square in the center of the port where all public meetings were held. There wasn’t a straight path in this city. The roads all spiraled and turned in on themselves in crazy, convoluted ways, much like the mind of the man who designed it. Port Iona had been a tiny dock falling into disrepair before Bentwood took over and built it up. It still held a few sacred altars from the ancient druids and a library where, supposedly, scholars from around Aluvia had come to study. Bentwood didn’t care anything about old faiths and knowledge of long-gone people, though. He had business sense. Too bad he had no soul.

According to Nell’s sources, Phoebe would be down in the lowest level of the main operation building, which meant turning left instead of right. Sierra expected to see guards along each fork in the path, but she didn’t. Their absence made the space between her shoulder blades scream with tension. Knowing Bentwood, surely he had guards on duty everywhere on the peninsula. If the guards weren’t here, where were they… and why?

“Do you think Corbin’s gotten his petition heard in the square?” Sierra asked. Perhaps the guards had been sent to maintain order while the elders held court?

The bizarre idea of someone petitioning for justice here would be like a free carnival to Bentwood’s people. Sierra was sure they had shown up in droves. Someone was probably selling toasted nuts and cider along the side, too.

Micah was silent for a moment. “I fear it will be less of a hearing and more of an execution.”

His choice of words made her stumble on the rough cobbled path.

She spun to face him, the blood draining from her face. “You really think they’ll kill him? I thought maybe they’d laugh at him and send him away. Maybe send him to the dungeons for a fortnight, at the worst.”

Micah shook his head. “I have thought upon what you’ve said and what the seawee said. His story of the merfolk’s plight strengthened my fears. The man you’ve described is ruthless. If I wanted to stop any and all questions about my authority, I would do something drastic, wouldn’t you?”

Panic shot through her. Micah made too much sense. Horrible, perfect sense. She should have known how Bentwood would respond. She’d watched Jack deal with him for years. Guilt burned like a forest fire, blistering. She hadn’t even believed the elders would listen to Corbin, but figured it’d at least be a good distraction while she snuck in. The ground should open up and swallow her whole. Dear, sweet Corbin. She may have thought it was a waste of time before, but Micah crystallized the situation. Corbin
couldn’t
speak before the elders. And Nell! She would go down with him. Not even her fighting skills would be enough to prevent their capture.

“We’ve got to stop them!” The words exploded out of Sierra. Maybe it was already too late. No. It couldn’t be. Her resolved hardened. Bentwood was going to do something drastic?
She
was going to do something drastic.

With a burst of adrenaline, she slapped her hand over her mark and, for once, truly rejoiced in the heat that seared through her. She called to Queenie without hesitation. The fairy wasn’t there yet, but she was nearby. Sierra made her decision: no matter if it was right or wrong, she wouldn’t risk her sister―or her friends.

Bring the queens,
she told her fairy.
All of them
. Sierra could always change her mind at the last moment, but she needed them there, just in case.
Bring them, Queenie
! The queen’s agreement hummed through her mark, then Micah’s hand touched her shoulder.

“I will go to him, as you cannot,” he said.

The words didn’t make sense.

He explained, “Your Corbin. I will go seek him and the warrior woman for you. You must get your sister.”

“He’s not my Corbin,” was all she could think to say. It wasn’t enough. She wanted Micah to understand no one else had ever drawn her heart. They stared at each other for a long moment, a thousand days in a heartbeat, her mind full of Micah’s deep chocolate brown eyes. She found herself wishing for the impossible. But she knew better than to believe in true love. He only wanted to fulfill his life-debt. This risk was a big one―it would do.

“If you do this for me, you will be free of any debt you owe.” Sierra wanted to be clear.

“Do you wish me gone, then?” His voice was wistful, sad.

Her heart lurched. She wanted to yell
Of course I want you to stay, you idiot!
She felt like pulling out her hair, because the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Fear was too strong, the fear long ago instilled in her by her father’s hands. Don’t love and you couldn’t be hurt. Only, it turned out, trying
not
to love hurt horribly.

She didn’t have time for this conversation. She couldn’t. Her sister was being tortured, Corbin might be dying, and she didn’t know if anything had happened to Nell.

Sierra managed to say, “No, I don’t want you to go away forever, but I need you to go now. Get them, please.”

He nodded and then started to turn but paused, picked up her hand, still damp from the sea, and kissed it ever so gently on the back like gentlemen of old. His lips were as soft as rose petals. His eyes held hers, sending sparks dancing through her veins, until he turned to run down the lane. She didn’t even think to ask how she’d find him. Some kind of hero she was turning out to be.

She had no real choice but to go forward and trust her friends to do their jobs. If she didn’t find Phoebe, everyone had wasted their lives for nothing. She carefully placed one foot in front of the other, pressing so close to the wall along the path that it kept catching on her wet sleeve. The salty wind blew hard, funneled by the walls on either side, chilling her. She shivered. Hopefully, she wouldn’t start sneezing or coughing.

Low murmurs drifted on the wind from around the next corner, and she stopped to listen. Two guards, she decided, at the door of the basement “training rooms.” Usually by this point in the proceedings, the trainees were so broken it didn’t take many guards to keep them in. And where would they go? Unless they knew how to call a merman, they were fresh out of luck, on the far side of the peninsula, right next to the sea.

Sierra took a moment to assess her odds. She might not be an enforcer, but as the daughter of a dark alchemist, she had seen her fair share of violence and could fight dirty if she had to. Sending one more call to her fairy queen in hopes she would arrive soon, Sierra picked up a pebble from the ground and tossed it down the path. Then she touched the handle of her knife, the one Nell gave her. It was in place and secure. Being Nell’s, it was as long as Sierra’s forearm and sharper than broken glass. She’d only use it in case of emergency, though. Phoebe would be horrified to know even men like these had died during her rescue.

The hushed voices stopped, and Sierra prepared herself. One of them walked near the corner. She hoped he didn’t peek first, or it would all be over. She was sneaky and fast, but she wasn’t two hundred pounds. Hurriedly, she tossed a second pebble farther down the path, making him think his prey was escaping. It worked.

The guard picked up his lumbering pace, and Sierra pressed herself against the side of the wall as he barreled around the corner. She gave him two seconds to keep running, and then she ran up behind him and jumped. Hooking her right arm around his neck, she pulled back hard and quick, clasping her opposite shoulder. Quickly, she bent her left arm up and over the back of his neck, pushing his head down to keep the pressure on his throat. Cutting the air off from his windpipe with a chokehold was a slow way to knock someone out, but it was fairly silent. With the adrenaline rushing through her, Sierra was strong enough to hold on tight.