The Doorway and the Deep (9 page)

“Fortuitous?” said Fife. “That's rich. You can't just give Lottie away to Rebel Gem, like she belongs to you. You haven't even asked if she'd like to go.”

“In the end,” said Lyre, “it does not matter whether or not Miss Fiske wants to go. She's a fugitive, and she's a guest in my court. Unless you all wish to fall into the hands of the Southerly King, you must rely entirely on me. And if I say you must go north,
you will go north
.”

“But I
can't
!” Lottie shouted. “Eliot and I are going home for Thanksgiving. Silvia said we could use the apple tree to go back to Kemble Isle. We had a deal.”

“Little girls with unsharpened keens aren't in a position to make deals,” said Lyre. “Things have changed. I refuse to let you use our apple tree.”

“So, what?” said Fife. “Lottie's supposed to forge her way to the Northerly Court all alone, just in time for winter?”

“Of course not!” cried Silvia, throwing her hands up. “Fife, darling,
really
. As though we would ever send an
honored guest northward unprotected! We've discussed the matter at length with Moritasgus. The Northerlies intend to do all they can to make Lottie's journey safe and worth its while. Rebel Gem has personally arranged for comfortable lodging in the Northerly Court.”

“Moritasgus also informs us,” said Lyre, “that none of you are particularly happy with your arrangements here in Wisp Territory. As outlaws, you have no fellow sprites to help you sharpen your keens properly.”

Lottie felt certain she heard a sneer in Lyre's voice as he said the word “keens.”

“The Northerly Court is full of sprites who can help you along in your training,” said Silvia. “Rebel Gem has offered you the full protection of the court, just as I have extended my protection here.”

“Is that all true, Father?” asked Oliver. “Is that what you want for us?”

Mr. Wilfer looked tired. “I've long felt uneasy about your situation here,” he said. “I can think of no better opportunity for you to advance your studies. I think you should be back amongst other sprites. Though I will of course leave it up to you.”

“
You
may leave it to them, Moritasgus,” said Lyre, “but I do not allow halflings and
other folk
”—here he cast a look at Eliot—“to reside in my territory.”

“Hey!” cried Eliot. “But Mr. Wilfer made a deal with the Seamstress.”

“He made a deal with her,” said Lyre, “not with me. Silvia can play by her rules while I'm away, but
my
rule has been, and ever will be, that there is no room here for outsiders. We wisps have enough troubles as it is without interference.”

“Yeah,” said Fife. “Troubles you want
us
to help with. And when exactly do you plan on booting us out of here?”

“Tomorrow,” said Lyre. “I promised Rebel Gem an immediate transaction.”

“
WHAT?
” roared Fife.

Lottie blinked in shock. This news was so sudden, so wholly unexpected, that she'd yet to sort out half its meaning. Travel to the Northerly Court? All she knew of Rebel Gem were the fractured mentions she'd heard from the Barghest and from Roote and Crag, the two Northerlies she had met on her journey to the Southerly Court. She had certainly never heard of a place called the Wilders. And what about
Eliot
?

“What if we do go?” asked Fife. “How're we supposed to travel north, on bare Barghest back?”

“Nothing so uncivil,” said Silvia, who hadn't seen the excitement in Fife's face when he asked the question. “Lyre has brought back with him an ambassador from the Northerly Court, sent directly from Rebel Gem as a gesture
of hospitality. He's been taking a rest after the long journey, but I've requested Wren to fetch him. Ah! And what magnificent timing, for here they come.”

Silvia motioned to the bower doors, where Wren stood guard, her face impassive.

“Go on, then,” said Silvia. “Show him in.”

Wren opened the bower door and announced, “The honored ambassador from the North.”

In walked a young man with shaggy black hair and muscled arms. His gait was confident as he strode toward the willow tree, then stooped in a bow. When he lifted his face, Lottie saw the three metal rings that pierced his nose.

The honored ambassador from the North was none other than Dorian Ingle.

“DORIAN,”
said Lyre. “I didn't think Northerlies acknowledged royalty.”

Dorian Ingle smiled broadly at the Tailor of the Wisps. “I wasn't bowing to you. I was paying my respects to the Heir of Fiske.”

Dorian turned his smile on Lottie. Warmth creep-crawled into her face.

“I'm not royalty,” she said. “Not even close.”

“No,” said Dorian, winking at her. “But you possess the courage of the Fiskes. I haven't forgotten that so easily from our last encounter. Lottie Fiske, it would be my honor to serve and protect you on your journey north.”

“Yeah, and what about the rest of us?” said Fife. “Will it be your
honor
to protect us, or are you just flirting because Lottie's so nice to look at?”

Adelaide gasped. Oliver's eyes went pink.

“You're a forceful one, aren't you?” said Dorian, sauntering closer to Fife. “The Tailor warned me about you.”

“I can't imagine what he said, considering he doesn't know me at all.”

Dorian snorted. “Well, listen up, Little Dulcet. It will be my privilege to escort
all
of you safely to the Northerly Court, without regard to parentage or prettiness.”

Lottie blushed. She turned to avoid Dorian's gaze, but also because she had something to say to Mr. Wilfer.

“I can't go,” she said. “I won't.”

“It's been a month,” Eliot piped up timidly. “My dad's been really understanding about everything, but he'd be so upset if I didn't come back for the holidays.”

“Then let the human child return to his home, where he belongs,” said Silvia. “There's no need for Lottie to follow.”

“There's every need for me to follow!” Lottie cried. “I have to stay near Eliot. I keep him well. Tell them, Mr. Wilfer.”

“It's true,” Mr. Wilfer said. “If she and the boy were to part, I fear it would be detrimental to his health.”

“That is not our concern,” said Lyre.

“Well, it's
mine
,” Lottie said. “I can't go on this great errand of yours if it means traveling north tomorrow. I promised Eliot I would go home with him for the holidays. We'll be there for weeks. I
promised
.”

“That's terribly inconvenient,” observed Dorian, who had pulled a pipe from his breast pocket and was now lighting its contents.

“It's impossible,” said Lyre. “I told Rebel Gem I would send you to the Northerly Court straightaway.”

“Well, maybe you should've asked my permission first!” Lottie shouted.

“Easy now,” said Dorian, puffing out a cloud of orange smoke. “No need to get riled up. Maybe Lottie just needs some time to consider.”

“There's nothing to consider,” Lottie snapped. “I go home with Eliot tomorrow.”

“Have you told her, Lyre?” Dorian asked. “How Rebel Gem has offered to train her in person?”

Lottie grew still. “
Rebel Gem
wants to help me sharpen my keen?”

“A very qualified teacher, too,” said Dorian. “Has anyone ever told you how similar Rebel Gem's keen is to your own?”

Lottie shook her head. She suddenly felt as though her neck wasn't properly attached to her body.

“That shouldn't change anything,” she said quietly.

“Maybe it shouldn't,” said Dorian. “But it's something to consider, isn't it?”

“Tailor,” Mr. Wilfer spoke up. “Seamstress. You've given the children a heavy piece of news. I think it best to grant them time to think it over.”

The brother and sister exchanged a glance. Silvia gave a slow, solitary nod.

“They can think it over, if that gives them comfort,” said Lyre. “But regardless, the Heir of Fiske must be ready to depart in one day's time. No later.”

“Don't worry,” muttered Fife. “We'll be out of this rotten dump soon enough.”

They were assigned four guards for the journey back to the Clearing. Though Lottie knew Lyre had only sent Wren and the three other guards to ensure that she and the others didn't try to escape, she was secretly grateful for their presence. She still couldn't shake her fear of whitecaps or the memory of that wisp guard slumped in a pool of blood.

Fife talked the whole way back.

“We don't even get a say in the matter. If we don't go of our own free will, that Dorian fellow will probably kidnap us and haul us to the Northerly Court anyhow. Wouldn't be surprised if the Tailor's sold us all into slavery.”

No one replied, but no one really needed to. Fife was content carrying on the conversation with himself.

When they arrived at the Clearing, Lottie said, “We should talk it over.”

So they all crawled into Lottie and Adelaide's yew, and only after the guards had left and the yew branch splintered back into place did everyone start to speak.

“Father seems to think it's a good idea,” said Oliver.

“Yes, well, he was forced into it by the Tailor,” said Fife. “Uncle probably threatened him with disembodiment.”

Oliver shivered. “Whatever the case, it isn't fair Lottie and Eliot are being backed into it.”

Adelaide was crying. “This isn't what I meant when I said I wanted proper tutelage! What kind of qualified teachers can there possibly be in the North? They're all barbarians!”

“I dunno what's left to discuss,” said Fife. “They've made our decision for us.”

Eliot looked over nervously at Lottie.

“Don't worry,” she whispered for only him to hear. “I'm going home with you. Nothing's changed.”

Though something
had
changed. Lottie had promised Eliot she would return home. He missed his father, and Lottie knew Mr. Walsch must miss Eliot terribly, too. And she couldn't possibly let Eliot go home on his own. He coughed even when he was with her. What would happen if she left his side?

And yet.

Rebel Gem had offered to train her.
The
Rebel Gem, leader of the Northerlies, had a keen like her own. The memory surfaced in Lottie's mind: the bloodied wisp guard who had struggled for life while she looked on, powerless, unable to help or heal. She wasn't getting anywhere under Mr. Wilfer's instruction, but what if she could make better progress with Rebel Gem?

Then her memory threw up the awful, unwanted image of the Southerly King's cold eyes as he crushed a helpless boy's genga in his hand, a crowd cheering,
“Fifthed! Fifthed!”

“Do you think the Tailor's plan would work?” Lottie asked. “Do you think if the wisps get hold of the addersfork, they can really kill him?”

“Who knows?” said Oliver. “But it sounds like the only plan they've got.”

“
Lottie
is the only plan they've got,” corrected Adelaide. “But it's unjust for the Tailor to banish the rest of us up North when we've nothing to do with this silly scheme.”

“Come on, Adelaide.” Oliver's eyes turned a green as coaxing as his voice. “It won't be that bad. I bet the Northerlies aren't nearly as uncivil as you think. Some of the most powerful sprites in history have been Northerlies—Fiskes included.”

Lottie perked up at this. In all the ruckus and confusion, she'd forgotten the fact that her mother was a Northerly.
Her mother had probably visited the Northerly Court, too. The thought made her heart lurch.

“I'll go,” said Adelaide, sniffling, “but I won't go happily.”

“What about you, Lottie?” Fife asked. “Are you really going back to Kemble Isle? The Tailor isn't going to take kindly to that decision.”