The Faerie War (18 page)

After washing myself in a pool of magenta colored water with matching bubbles—that popped and vanished along with the water when I got out—I walk down one flight of stairs and find Ryn’s bedroom. There’s no reply when I knock, so I let myself in. Another armchair has been added to the room, probably so that one of us doesn’t have to sit on the bed. I wander over to the table against the wall and pick up one of the books. It’s a collection of poetry by someone I don’t recognize. Did Ryn rescue these books from his home in Creepy Hollow, or did he get them here? Perhaps the base has a library.

I turn my attention to the wooden box resting beside the books—and my heart tumbles over itself when I see my own name engraved on the lid. I run my finger over the grooves of the letters. I place both hands on the sides of the box and try to lift the lid. Nothing happens. It must be—

The door behind me creaks open. I swivel around quickly. Cold guilt rushes over me, even though the box I was trying to open must surely belong to me. Ryn frowns, his hand still on the door handle. “What did you do?”

“Um . . .”

His eyes slide to the table behind me. “Oh, the box. It’s yours, V. You don’t need to feel guilty about looking at it.” He closes the door while I turn back to the box. I pick it up and carry it with me to one of the armchairs.

“So what’s the story? Why do you have it?”

Ryn sits in the armchair opposite mine and leans forward, elbows on his knees. A sad smile stretches his lips before he says, “I wish you knew how badly you wanted that box. Your mother left it for you, but . . . it got lost. You’ve never even seen it before.”

I rest the box on my knees and touch the hole where a key should fit. “Where did you find it?”

“Underground. I have contacts there who were keeping an eye out for it. On one of my recent visits I checked in with one of them. Turned out he’d found the box. I just had to . . .
retrieve
it from its latest owner.”

I raise an eyebrow at the word ‘retrieve.’ “Does that, by any chance, mean
steal
?”

“It’s not stealing if it originally belonged to you, is it?” He nods toward the box. “Go ahead. Open it.”

“But it’s locked.”

“Well, isn’t it convenient, then, that you have a key.”

“What—” I stop and reach for the gold chain around my neck. My fingers find the tiny gold key with its outspread wings. The key that’s been hanging around my neck since the day I woke up. Is this the key he’s talking about? As if he can hear my thoughts, Ryn nods.

“There’s probably nothing inside,” I say, more to myself than to Ryn. “I mean, if it’s been lost Underground for so long, it’s probably been forced open already and its contents removed.”

“Protective enchantments,” Ryn says as he leans back in his chair, watching me. “Only the key can open it.”

I unfasten the chain’s clasp and hold the key between my fingers. I insert it into the hole on the front side of the box, turn, and hear a small click. I lift the lid and tilt it all the way back so it rests on its hinges. Inside is a folded piece of paper. I expect it to look aged and discolored—after all, it must have been written fifteen years ago or more—but it looks new. Perhaps the enchantments protected it against aging as well.

I remove the page and unfold it. A curling script marks the paper in dark ink. I start reading, the hairs on my arms rising and my heart thumping as though trying to break free of my chest.

My darling child,

You have not even been born and already a burden has been laid upon your shoulders. I met an elf woman today. It wasn’t a meeting that was supposed to happen, but now that I think about it, all the events of the day conspired perfectly so that I would be in that room with her at that precise moment. Alone.

She came up to me, having never spoken a word to me before, and said, “You will have a daughter. She will play a role in bringing great evil into our world. But she will also be the one to undo that evil.”

I was afraid, thinking the woman must be crazy. But then she told me things about myself. Things that only I should know. I started to believe her—and that made me even more afraid. Afraid for you, my precious child, and afraid for our world. I asked her what great evil she was talking about. She said one word that sent shivers scurrying all over me.

Tharros.

It was his power that I’d spent so many years trying to find. His power that I’d finally realized was pure evil and could never be used for good the way I’d always wanted to use it. Is this my punishment for seeking out that power? Will you have to pay the price for the delusions that consumed me for so long? If so, I can never apologize enough.

“Your daughter will save a halfling boy from death,” the elf woman said, “and that boy will one day choose to take Tharros’ power into himself. Your daughter will be responsible for that choice. She will also be the one to send his power to its final resting place.”

I wanted her to explain further, but she was gone before I could ask anything else.

I’m still not sure I should be writing this down. If it falls into the wrong hands, someone might try to hurt you before any of this can happen. But I’m also afraid that I might not be around to tell you this, and when the time comes, you won’t know what to do.

Whatever happens, I love you with all my heart, my dear child.

Your mother

I lower the page and stare at the rug on the floor. I didn’t notice it before. It’s dark green with a grey pattern of squares.

“Well, what does it say?” Ryn asks.

Without a word, I hand the page to him. His eyes scan quickly across the words, his frown growing as he gets closer to the bottom of the page. When he reaches the end of the letter, he stands abruptly. His eyes stare through the page at something far beyond it as he says, “I know who it is. I know who Draven is.” He walks a few steps and stands near a wall, still staring at nothing. “At least, I can make a pretty good guess.”

Still partly stunned from what I’ve just read, I whisper, “Who is he?”

Ryn’s eyes finally come to rest on mine. “His real name is Nate. He’s the same person you wanted to forget. He’s the reason Uri made that potion for you. He was supposed to be nothing more than an assignment to you, but . . .” Ryn looks down at the letter. “Well, it’s a long story, but he became more to you than that. You cared about him. And he betrayed you to Zell, the Unseelie Prince. When he came to find you in Creepy Hollow to apologize and explain his actions and ask your forgiveness, you told him you never wanted to see him again.” Ryn walks back to the armchair and sits on the edge of the cushion. “If he was angry and heartbroken, he would have been in the perfect position to kill Zell and take Tharros’ power for himself.”

Ryn’s words are like a story about someone else’s life. “He . . . he can’t be much older than us then,” I say. “Considering how powerful he is, I was imagining someone far more experienced.”

“I think we were all imagining that.”

I take the letter from Ryn and read it again. Then I drop my head into my hands and let the paper float to the floor. “I’m responsible for everything that’s happened,” I moan. “That’s what the letter says. I mean, I already knew about the assignment where I saved Draven from death—there was a reptiscillan woman who told me about that—but the fact that I’m responsible for his decision to take Tharros’ power? And then to use it to destroy everything? That makes me, like,
doubly
responsible. I should never have been born, Ryn. That’s what the letter is basically telling me. None of this would ever have happened if I didn’t exist.”

“Yes, it would have.” Ryn pulls my hands away from my face, and I find him crouching on the floor in front of me, his eyes fierce. “If it hadn’t been Draven, it would have been someone else. It probably would have been Zell who took Tharros’ power. And maybe he wouldn’t have been as powerful as Draven, but he still would have needed to be destroyed. And the part of the letter you seem to be ignoring is the part that says
you
will help put an end to Tharros’ power. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and let’s figure out how we’re going to do that.”

I stare at him, my gaze moving across his face. I nod, pull my arms gently from his grasp, and say, “Okay. Tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”

He returns to his chair. “Okay. Here it is: We have a weapon that can supposedly destroy Tharros’ power. It’s a sword, and only one person can use it. But no one knows who or where that person is. You—” he points at me “—are the only one who can find that person.”

“I am? That’s how I’m going to put an end to Tharros’ power?”

“Yes. We have no way of finding the Star—that’s what the words on the sword call this person—without you. That’s why Oliver was referring to you as the ‘finder’ earlier.”

“Right.” I have a feeling I’m about to disappoint Ryn once again. “And . . .
how
exactly am I going to find this person?”

Ryn leans his head back against the armchair and sighs. “This would be so much easier if you hadn’t swallowed that damn potion.”

“Yeah. I know. But I did. So can you please just tell me what magic trick I’m supposed to perform to find this Star?”

“You hold something that belongs to a person and your mind will tell you where that person is. Anywhere in the world. That’s your magic trick.”

I narrow my eyes at him, waiting for a laugh or a punch line. Because that has to be a joke, right? There’s no spell that can find a person that easily.

He doesn’t even crack a smile.

“Are you joking?” I ask. “Because I was joking when I said ‘magic trick.’”

“No joke. You, Violet Fairdale, can do something that no one else can do: You can find people.”

“By holding something that belongs to them?”

“Yes. Holding one of their belongings creates a connection to them. If you already know the person, then the connection’s already there.”

“But I don’t know the Star.”

“No.”

“And nobody else knows the Star, so you obviously don’t have something that belongs to him or her.”

“Her. And no.”

Is he being intentionally dense? “So,” I say slowly, “don’t we have a problem then?”

“Well, just think about it.” He leans forward. “The sword can
only
be used by the Star. Doesn’t that mean it technically
belongs
to her?”

I wind a piece of hair around my finger. “I guess. Maybe.”

“Well, it’s the only idea I’ve got, so it’d better work.”

“And what if I don’t know how to do it anymore? Find people, I mean.”

He raises an eyebrow. “V, you may not know this about yourself, but you have never backed down from a challenge. If you don’t remember how to find people, you won’t stop trying until you figure it out.”

I suppose that sounds right. When I couldn’t get my guardian weapons to appear, I let Jamon scare me over and over until I was confident I could reach for them every single time.

“Why don’t you try it now?” Ryn says.

Now?
I feel immediately self-conscious. I’d far rather try out this finding thing in private. But Ryn is waiting expectantly, and I’m not supposed to back down from a challenge, right? I stand up and walk over to one of the corners. If I’m about to embarrass myself, I’d rather not do it
right
in front of him. “Um, who should I find?”

“It needs to be someone you have some kind of relationship with. I imagine there aren’t too many people who fall into that category right now.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice, which I choose not to dwell on.

“So, like, Jamon?” I ask.

“Yes.” Ryn stands and walks around to the back of his armchair. He leans on the back rest and stares at his hands. “I imagine you have a connection with the reptiscilla.”

Something in the way he says those last few words makes me ask, “Do you have something against reptiscillas?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Not in general, no. In fact, I’m probably one of the most open-minded guardians you’ll come across.”

“So . . . you have something against Jamon?”

“Look, it’s not important, V. We just need to know whether you can find him or not. So close your eyes and—”

“Wait, are you
jealous
?” I ask.

“Violet!” Ryn’s hands are clenched around the back of the chair. “You have no idea what I’ve been through since The Destruction. You have no idea how much you mean to me. You don’t know how my mind has tortured me with all the terrible things that could have happened to you. And when I finally find you—alive and safe—you don’t have a flipping clue who I am, and you’re traveling around with another guy. Of course I’m jealous of him!” He pushes the chair out of his way and comes toward me. “You know him a whole lot better than you know me, yet I’ve been part of your life since
the day you were born
.”

I back into the corner as Ryn gets closer, realizing I have no idea whether or not he has a tendency to get violent when he’s angry. “It isn’t my fault I don’t remember you, Ryn.”

“Isn’t it? You’re the one who took the stupid potion, V. You don’t have anyone to blame but yourself.”

He’s right. I know he is. And I hate it. “Fine. I’m sorry I acted like a coward. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No! I want to hear you talk to me like you actually know me. And why do you keep backing away from me? Do you think I’m going to
hit
you? What kind of monster do you think I am?”

“I don’t know, do I? You’re certainly angry enough to be a monster.”

“I’m angry because you’re so ridiculously stubborn that you won’t just accept responsibility for what you did and apologize like you actually mean it.”

I push away from the wall, closing the distance between us. “And I don’t see why I should be apologizing to you!”

His face is so close I can feel his breath on my skin. His voice is quiet when he says, “You wanted to forget everything, Violet. And you know what that says to me? You wanted to forget me too.”