Reflection Pond (8 page)

They were in a rambling office, complete with a sprawling desk covered with yellowed papers and scrolls. Shelves filled with heavy, bound pages lined the walls.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you on your first night,” Sapphire said. “I assure you, murder is not commonplace in
Eirensae.
The prophetess—” her voice broke, “she was a beautiful, peaceful woman. She’d protected the city for many years.”

Callie pulled away. Sapphire’s face was pale and damp with tears. “Rowan seems to think she died because I’m seventeen, but I don’t see what my age has—”

Sapphire paled further. “Seventeen? Oh, Callie. Of course. I guess I knew, but I didn’t think… The wounds—they’re ceremonial.” She moved away from Callie to the desk in the corner of the room. She pushed aside papers and sat on the surface, eyes far away. “But if it’s the Fallen, it doesn’t make sense why they would kill her and leave you sleeping nearby. Maybe…” She rubbed her forehead. “Maybe…oh, I don’t know. The visions never work like I need them to. But the Fallen…” she trailed off.

“The Fallen?”
Callie prompted. She sat on the back of a couch, hands twisted in her lap. Her headache hadn’t receded at all. It hunkered at the center of her skull, insistent and demanding. Her eyes felt overcooked and gritty.

Sapphire buried her face in her hands. “We haven’t even had time to explain everything to you. You’re supposed to have a meeting with the Elders today, but I suppose that
’ll be postponed until everything is cleaned up and investigated. The Fallen are—”

“Murderer!”
The accusation came from the doorway and was followed by a murmuring crowd of people. Cypress and Hazel were at the end of the group. Callie sank lower, trying to become invisible.

The man who’d yelled took several steps toward her, hands raised. He backhanded Callie before she had a chance to react. “You dare come here?”

Sapphire was there in an instant, filling the space between him and Callie, who was cradling her cheek on the floor. Callie’s eyes watered. She couldn’t breathe enough to tell him that she didn’t kill the prophetess. Or at least, she didn’t
think
she did.

“You will control yourself,” Sapphire said through clenched teeth, but the man shoved her away and caught Callie by the arm, dragging her upwards.

He spat hot, rancid breath over Callie’s face. “I will execute you myself.”

Callie cringed away from his narrowed eyes and curled lips. His dark hair reminded her of another man and she fought to keep the memory buried. Her hands curled into shaking fists and bile burned the back of her tongue.

Hazel’s voice rose over the noise, “Release her, Elm.”

“Release her?” he bellowed, spittle flying onto Callie’s cheeks.

Sapphire was up again, fingers wrapped around Elm’s wrists.

He snarled at her. “You planned this, didn’t you,
prophetess?
You bring this
child
into our home to destroy us. And
you,”
he turned to Hazel. “You will lead us to our deaths.” His free hand curled around Callie’s throat despite Sapphire’s attempts to stop him. The faces around Callie blurred to smudges. She wondered why no one stopped him, why they all stood by, frozen.

“I will rid us of this stain before she can be used to lead us to war.”

Callie’s pulse thundered against his fingers. Her eyes felt like grapes sucked through a straw, struggling for freedom. She couldn’t breathe. The edges of her vision closed inward.

She panicked, kicking her feet and flailing, but he was too strong.
Let me go,
she screamed, but the words couldn’t choke their way from her lips. Sapphire drew deep gouges in Elm’s arms, but he didn’t relent.

“Please,” Sapphire sobbed, “please.”

Let me go,
Callie screamed again.

To her surprise, she found herself on the floor, gasping. Sweet air filled her lungs and she gulped it, grateful. In front of her, Elm was on his knees, hands covering his ears. Blood seeped between his fingers, staining the shoulders of his tunic crimson.

The room went eerily silent. Sapphire helped Callie to her feet, touching her hair, her cheeks, her shoulders. “You’re okay,” she said, “you’re okay.”

Callie glanced at the gathering. Their faces ranged from shocked, impassive, and curious.
Except for Hazel. She looked victorious.

“Everybody out,” Hazel ordered, pushing Sapphire away and sliding an arm around Callie’s waist, holding her upright. “Out, now,” she said when they didn’t move fast enough.

“Hazel,” Sapphire said, reaching once again for Callie, “let me—”

“Get out,” Hazel ordered. Sapphire backed away, eyes lowered, joining the others. A woman helped Elm up and away. He glared at Hazel the entire time.

From the doorway, Sapphire mouthed,
I’m sorry,
before retreating and shutting the door softly.

Hazel led Callie to the cushy desk chair and helped her into it. The older woman sat on the desk, facing Callie. The silk of her dress whooshed as she pulled her legs into its skirts. Callie thought she looked more like a teenager than a ruler of a faerie city.

“I apologize for our lack of decorum, but I’m afraid the murder has thrown the city into chaos.” Hazel settled her hand on Callie’s shoulder. Her violet eyes were earnest. “I sincerely apologize for the greeting you’ve received. I want you to know that you are welcome here, and I will answer any questions you have.” She touched Callie’s throat where Elm’s fingers had cut into her flesh. The ache there eased. “Our children are so precious to us, and you, Callie, are even more special because you found your way home early. I know the others are nervous about your presence here, but I see it for what it is. It’s a sign of the good things to come. Your power is meant to lead our city to greatness. The prophetess foresaw it before she—” Hazel broke off.

She caught Callie’s hand in both of hers, spilling warmth and energy.
Did Hazel had the power to heal as Rowan did? She seemed kinder now, gentler than when Callie had met her the day before. The comfort kept the panic at bay. At least for now.

“I know this must be very confusing, and I hate to add to your worries, but until you find your amulet, you’re in mortal danger from the Fallen. The prophetess’s murder is a warning we cannot overlook. The sooner you don your amulet and accept your bindings to
Eirensae,
the sooner you will be safe.”

Safe,
Callie scoffed, thinking of the prophetess’s empty eyes and of Elm’s hands around her neck. Of all the things she felt, safe wasn’t one of them. “I want to go home,” she said. “Why won’t you let me go?”

Hazel smiled. “I know you’re scared, but you have to understand. The Fallen know you exist.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” Callie heard the high sound of panic in her voice. She wished she were stronger. Fiercer. She wished she could wake up from this nightmare.

“The Fallen used to be faeries, beings with power and centuries to live. But sometimes they choose to betray their cities or not accept their place, and when that happens, they
are stripped of their magic and longevity, and cast back into the human world to live and work amongst lesser creatures. Taking the life of a faerie child can grant these beings immortality and impossible strength, which is why we hide all of our children. If you return to the human world, they will never stop hunting you.”

An icy finger of dread slid down Callie’s neck and she shuddered. “And what’s to stop them from coming here?”

Hazel squeezed Callie’s hand. “We have wards that will keep them out and trained warriors as back up. We will put you under guard until you find your amulet. As a precaution, I’d like to bind you to the city. It’ll prevent anyone from taking you outside the city walls.”

“So I’ll be a prisoner?” Callie said.

“Not a prisoner,
safe
. You’ll have free run of the city. We’ll protect you, I promise. In time, this will just become an awful memory. There is nothing for you to fear from us.” She rubbed warmth into Callie’s arms. “Besides, it’s time for you to learn your true place on this earth, not as a human, but as a powerful, magical creature. Ash will teach you faerie history and help cultivate your magic.”

Callie snorted. “I’m far from magical.”

“I’m not the one who took Elm down—you did that all on your own. Your power is immense, Callie. I can help you learn how to defend and protect yourself.”

Callie had caused blood to drip from Elm’s ears? She was horrified. “I don’t want this…power. I don’t want any of it.” She met Hazel’s gaze. “Take it away. I don’t want it.”

Hazel pressed a gentle hand to Callie’s shoulder, leaning down so she could search her face. “It doesn’t work like that. You’re fae. Magic is in your blood, your very makeup. I can’t just make it go away.” She drew Callie into a soft, scented hug.

Callie closed her eyes, wanting to believe Hazel. She didn’t fully understand how this whole faerie thing worked, or really believe that she’d somehow made Elm’s ears bleed, but the thought of someone wanting to kill her made Callie shiver.

“I know you’re scared and uncertain, but you can trust that I will protect you.” Hazel pulled away. “You are a daughter of
Eirensae.
It is my duty to defend you with my life.”

Callie felt herself wavering. She’d never been more confused. She didn’t know what to believe anymore.
“And what about Elm?”

“He will learn to behave himself, or he will be banished. Either way, you let me worry about that.”

“But he thinks I killed the prophetess.”

“Yes, but I don’t. And I assure you, my word goes a lot farther than his. Now, give me your palm and I’ll do the binding spell. It’ll only take a moment and then we’ll get you set up somewhere you can sleep. You must be exhausted.”

On cue, Callie yawned. When she finished, Hazel clutched a glittering knife and had a welling pool of blood cupped in her opposite hand.

“What are you going to do with that?” Callie yelled, skittering away from Hazel.

“It’s for your protection,” Hazel reminded. “It’ll prevent anyone from taking you outside the city. It’ll only hurt for a moment. Give me your hand.”

Callie’s fingers trembled and she couldn’t bring herself to lift them.

“Callie,” Hazel said softly, “trust me.”

Callie blinked, her mind growing foggy.

“Trust me.”

The knife burned across Callie’s flesh and she drew a sharp breath. Hazel’s lips moved with silent words as she pressed their palms together, mingling their blood. Heat fused their hands, hotter and hotter until Callie was certain they’d catch fire.

And then it was over. Hazel curled Callie’s hand into a fist. “You’ll be happy here, you’ll see.”

Dread exploded in Callie’s stomach. She pressed her bleeding hand there.

What had she done?

CHAPTER FOUR

Callie felt the hulking monstrosity of the palace watching her as she stepped into the late-morning sun. She squinted at the windows nestled between the stones, but the second floor balcony restricted her view. The sun warmed her shoulders and face and she stayed for a moment, drinking it in, letting it chase away the chill.

She
was trapped.

Hazel had wrapped a strip of cloth around the cut, but Callie’s hand throbbed beneath it. She couldn’t even begin to make sense of it. If what Hazel said was true, then Callie was stuck under the pond. And worse, she had some kind of freak power.

Then there was the prophetess.

Cold…dead.

She shook her head to dislodge the image.

In the distance, cottages guarded the hills, smoke rising from their chimneys. All the tiny houses looked the same, round, tan stucco walls, thatch roofs. Sapphire lived in one—but Callie wasn’t sure which, and didn’t know if she wanted company anyway. To her left, not quite as far as the cottages, was the stone she’d come through into the city. A river ran to her right, and dense woods surrounded the entire city like the walls of a safe haven.

Questions slithered through Callie’s head—a pit of restless snakes, but one remained at the forefront.

Fae.

Faerie.

That’s what Rowan had told her.
If he hadn’t healed her, she could’ve convinced herself this was all an elaborate hoax, maybe a reality television show complete with costumes and computer graphics.

Callie had felt the magic on and in her skin.

Without conscious decision, she started up the path, lost in thought.

She tried to remember everything she’d learned about faeries. It wasn’t much, aside from children’s movies. They were magical, fickle…mischievous. And if Hollywood had it right, about six inches tall…with wings.

Believing she had any part of this world was ridiculous. Callie felt a little crazy just for buying into it, as though the cameramen would jump out from the trees at any moment and point at her.

But if it were true—if she’d done that horrible thing Hazel had accused her of,
then she couldn’t go home. She was safer here. Everyone else was safer, too. Callie lifted her hands in front of her face. Had she done that to Elm? Sure, she’d been scared, but it wasn’t as though she ran around hemorrhaging brains.