The Faerie War (31 page)

Em nods. “We can’t wait forever. We want our world back, and people are starting to feel like it’s now or never.”

“And when we come face-to-face with people we love and care about? Does Oliver expect us to simply kill them?”

“Oh, no, our orders are to capture as many as we can,” Em says. “Every faerie will be going in with stunning power already gathered. We’re hoping that as soon as Draven has been destroyed, his influence will lift from everyone.”

“And if it doesn’t?” I ask.

“And what about the fact that up until half an hour ago, Oliver didn’t actually have the Star?” Ryn says. “He would have had no way to destroy Draven.”

Max’s eyes flick to Em’s before saying, “The merpeople built an underwater prison. It’s at the bottom of the ocean. We were going to keep every marked person there until the Star was found and Draven was destroyed.”

Ryn’s mouth drops open. “That was the brilliant plan?”

“Yes, but now we won’t have to do that,” Em says. “If everything goes according to plan, Draven will be gone tomorrow night.”

 Ryn takes a deep breath, then starts nodding as he lets it out slowly. “You’re right. This needs to end. And we have the Star now, so the prison plan doesn’t really matter.”

“Exactly,” Max says. “But what does matter is that lunch is almost over, and you look like you could do with some food.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” I take Ryn’s arm and pull him in the direction of the dining room.

“See you later,” Em says, waving as she walks off with Max.

“Oh, Em,” Ryn calls after her. He looks back at me. “You go on without me. I need to talk to Em about something.” He squeezes my hand. “I’ll see you later.” He hurries after her.

Well, that didn’t help the Jealousy monster at all.

Feeling somewhat dejected and not exactly hungry, I limp toward the dining room. I look inside, and the moment I see shades of blue-green sitting amongst the black-clad guardians, my spirits lift. Of course. The reptiscillas are here. I squeeze between the tables, searching for Jamon. When I see him, I smile and hurry toward his table, forgetting my sore leg for the moment.

I place my hands on my hips and say, “You left without saying goodbye.”

“Violet?” He drops his fork and jumps up. “Well, at least I didn’t disappear without a trace leaving everyone to think I’d never be back.”

I laugh and give him a hug. “I’m glad to see you noticed I was missing.”

“But you’re okay?”

“Yeah, we were just out there getting us all one step closer to defeating Draven.” I sit beside him and drop my bag onto the floor at my feet. “So how’s everyone back at the mountain? Have you told Natesa you’re madly in love with her yet?”

“I have, actually.”

“Seriously?” I start laughing again. “I’m stunned.”

“I told her that if we all get out of this alive, I’m ignoring the rules. I’m not forming a union with some girl I’ve never met. Life seems too short not to spend it with the people we love, you know? I saw you and Ryn and—” He cuts himself off. “Uh, sorry. I . . . never mind.”

“What?” I nudge his elbow with my own. “Tell me.”

“I just . . . I saw his face the moment he realized you didn’t know who he was. That moment when he figured out you might never remember, and you might never love him again. And there I was
knowing
that I loved Natesa and
knowing
that she loved me too. How could I throw that away just because some ancient rule says I should be with someone else I don’t even know?”

I look down at my hands. Hearing him talk about Ryn like that, about how I’ve hurt him—intentionally or not—makes my insides squirm. But this isn’t about Ryn and me or my guilt that I messed things up for us; this is about Jamon and Natesa. “Yeah,” I say, forcing the smile back onto my face. “You did the right thing. I bet your father wasn’t too excited about it, though.”

Jamon rolls his eyes. “My father . . . That’s another story. But he’ll come around, I’m sure.”

We chat for a while as the dining room slowly empties. I tell Jamon about the bounty hunters and the floating island and my glimpse of the Unseelie Court, and he gives me more details on tomorrow night’s plan and tells me about the less than friendly welcome the reptiscillas received when they first got here. I try to apologize for my kind, but he waves my words away, assuring me it isn’t that bad anymore.

“It was actually quite funny,” he says, “the first day we were in the fixed-up Training Center with guardians, reptiscillas, elves, and all these other fae who stayed here for a few days of boot camp. The guardians were all lined up together, arms crossed and mega frowns on their faces. I swear, their expressions were like, ‘Seriously? You’re making us fight with
them
? The scum of the fae world?’ And by the end of the first day, you could see the surprise on their faces, like, ‘Hey, these guys might actually be able to help us.’”

“Good to know they came around in the end,” a voice from behind me says. “I was afraid some guardians’ prejudices could never be overcome.”

Ryn rounds the table and takes a seat opposite me. My stomach does a weird flip-flop kind of thing at the sight of him, as if it’s been weeks since I saw him instead of, well, minutes. Ridiculous. Seriously ridiculous.

“There are still a few who refuse to be friendly,” Jamon says, “but they’re not worth getting upset over.”

Ryn nods, and the two of them reach across the table and shake hands. They exchange a few words of greeting. Ryn’s smile is open and genuine, not like the guarded looks he gave Jamon when they first met. I guess his own Jealousy monster has vanished.

He leans on the table and says, “V, how’s your leg? Have you seen Uri?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t left the dining room yet.”

“Violet! Violet!” I look across the almost empty dining room and see the scrawny urisk hurrying toward me with one knobbly hand clenched around something.

“Well, speak of the fuzzy little devil, and there he is,” Ryn says.

“I’ve got it!” Uri pants out as he reaches me. “This is the one. The potion that will clear the effects of the other one that made you forget everything.”

My heart leaps up into my throat, but I force myself not to get too excited. “Uri, hi.” I swing my legs around to the other side of the bench so I can face him. “Um, how did you know I was back?”

“Oh, I have a new friend who’s been keeping me company.” He pats the front pocket of his lab coat. “He scouts around and keeps me updated on the latest happenings.”

A mouse pops its head out of Uri’s pocket. “Filigree?” I ask. He lets out a squeak when he sees me, then transforms into a small black bird with purple on the tips of his wings and flies to my shoulder. He chirps a few times before settling down. Does this mean he’s forgiven me for not remembering him?

“Anyway, here it is.” Uri hands me a small vial with a clear liquid inside.

I stare at it, then notice my fingers shaking ever so slightly. If this works, I’ll finally be me again. The real me. And Ryn will get me back the way he wants me. But I won’t get my hopes up, because I honestly think the chances of this potion working are slim. And let’s not forget about possible negative side effects that Uri knows nothing about.

“Don’t worry, Vi dear,” Uri says, “this is definitely the one.”

Definitely?
For some reason, his certainty doesn’t make me feel any better. If anything, I trust the potion even less now. What if something awful happens to me? Like if I forget everything again and wake up on the dining room floor not knowing a thing? Wouldn’t it be better to stay the way I am now instead of putting everyone through that?

I look across the table at Ryn. His eyes meet mine, and his gaze is intent. “Take it,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. And that makes my mind up for me. If things were reversed, Ryn would do this for me. Where I’m cowardly and selfish, Ryn thinks of the people he loves first. He wouldn’t think about the risks to himself; he’d go ahead and swallow this stuff so that I could have him back.

So I’ll do this for him.

I pull the tiny cork from the top of the vial and tip the clear liquid back down my throat.

I keep my eyes locked on Ryn, as if his gaze is the anchor that could pull me back if things go terribly wrong. The potion heats my throat and burns a little on the way down, like alcohol. I imagine it spreading throughout my body, working its magic. I have no idea what actually happens or how it works, but in my imagination it looks like tiny gold sparkles spreading across everything.

I wait for memories to start pouring into my head. Or for darkness to surround me and steal away all the new memories I’ve accumulated since The Destruction. Or to feel violently ill and start throwing up. Or for some other unforeseen side effect.

Nothing happens.

Nothing. At. All.

“Well?” Uri says eventually. “Do you remember anything?”

I look down at the table before answering. I don’t want to see the look in Ryn’s eyes when I say the word. “No.” I raise my eyes to Uri’s. He doesn’t look as disappointed as I feared he would.

He nods and says to himself, “The catalyst. It isn’t there yet.”

I raise an eyebrow. I look over at Ryn, and his expression tells me he’s probably thinking the same thing I am: If something wasn’t ‘there yet,’ then why was Uri so sure this one would work?

“Uri,” Ryn says, clenching his fist on the table. “You told us this was ‘the one.’ Why would you give it to Violet if it
wasn’t ready
?”

“The potion was ready,” Uri tells him, no trace of doubt in his voice. “It’s Violet who isn’t.”

Ryn makes a concerted effort to flatten his clenched fist as he lets out a long breath and says, “Can you help Vi with a cut on her leg that won’t heal?” He stares at the table as he speaks, anger simmering beneath his voice. “I think it’s the same as the one I had on my cheek from that enchanted black blade.”

“Certainly,” Uri says, apparently oblivious to the tension he’s created around the table. “Come with me, Vi.” He squeezes his way between the tables. I pick up my bag and follow him.

*

I return to my room with Filigree on my shoulder and a tiny jar of enchanted salve in my hand. I drop my bag next to my bed and sit down. I try to roll up my pants leg, but even though the fabric is stretchy, it’s not stretchy enough to roll higher than my knee. That’s probably one of the reasons my leg’s been in so much pain—too-tight pants. So I remove them. I sit down again and unscrew the jar’s lid. After a moment’s pause, where I imagine my embarrassment if someone barged into my room without knocking, I wave my hand at the armchair in the corner and send it scraping across the floor and into the door. Perfect. At least I’ll have some warning if someone tries to walk in without knocking.

The salve soothes my burning skin. I cover the reddened area completely before lying back on the bed. Filigree turns into a cat—ginger-colored this time—and sits by my left foot, wrapping his tail neatly around his paws. He stares at me, blinking once in a while.

“What?” I ask eventually. “Are you trying to say something?”

He flicks one ear.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that means.”

He narrows his eyes.

“I really am sorry!” I sit up and lean on my elbows. “I mean, you’re . . . like . . . super awesome. Probably the coolest pet ever. So it really does suck that I’ve forgotten all the fun times we must have had. But you’re alive, and I’m alive, and assuming we both make it through tomorrow night, we’ll have plenty of years ahead of us to have new fun times. Right?”

He stretches forward and rests his ginger head on my ankle.

“Does that mean you agree with me? You’re not angry with me? You . . . think my bony ankle makes a good pillow?”

He shifts his head a little and opens his eyes. He starts the staring thing again.

With a sigh, I slide my elbows forward and let myself drop back onto the pillow. My mind is restless. I can’t believe everything is happening
tomorrow night
. “What if tomorrow’s the end for all of us, Filigree? I mean, this is Draven we’re talking about. Most powerful guy our world has ever known. Even if Oliver storms in there with hundreds of guardians, Draven might just swat them into nonexistence as if they’re nothing more than pesky sprites.”