The Flute Keeper's Promise (The Flute Keeper Saga) (3 page)

Groaning, I stood up. The old lady’s
hateful gaze followed me all the way up the ladder to the hatch door entrance
to her study.

“I want to see vast improvement
next time! At this rate you’ll never pass the induction trials!”

The hatch made a loud bang as I slammed
it. From there, I made my way to the castle’s central pavilion.

The bright hall was like a fish
bowl made of colored glass. Bits of daylight bounced off the shiny floor and
the walkways that led to the second and third levels of the tower. There was no
evidence that the hall had been a wreck only months ago. The archway where the
Jet Propelled League Cruiser had crashed was all patched up thanks to Ivywild’s
skilled Enchanters.

I sidestepped a cloud of Pixies and
headed for the courtyard. I could already smell the fragrant blossoms that
crowded the castle steps.

A gorgeous day awaited me beyond
the castle doors. The sky was bright blue flecked with only the wispiest of
clouds.

Out of habit I lifted my face and
watched the sky. I was still waiting for a sign from the Seraphim of Avalon. So
far I’d seen nothing. I was beginning to wonder if they’d ever summon me back
to their island in the clouds. After a few minutes I gave up and headed through
the market square to the cathedral.

The sights in the square were a
familiar comfort. Fay ladies walked with their children among wagons and
booths. Cusith hounds with their wooly green fur lay sleeping in the shade of awnings.
A Gnome rushed by with a basket of fish. His head came no higher than my knees.
Amorous Pixies chased each other through the air so fast that their clear wings
were just a blur.

It was a perfect day—almost. I knew
if I listened long enough, I’d hear fearful voices recount the rumors that had
reached Ivywild from all corners of Faylinn: disappearances, attacks, sightings
of strange creatures with a bloodlust and other macabre things that caused the
once trusting citizens to bolt their doors at night and look twice at every
unfamiliar face. The buzz kept growing. So did Ivywild’s population as more and
more Fay poured in from the outlying villages to seek safety within the castle
walls. From where I stood in the square, I could see the tops of tents in the
residential quarter. The temporary shelters housed hundreds of relocated Fay.

At first, it hadn’t been so bad.
Now every outlander who came to Ivywild faced scornful glances from the locals.
There was talk of limiting the flow and stopping people at the cliff down
below. The acting ruler hadn’t made a decision about it yet. Chloe had enough
to deal with.

It had been a turbulent year. Not all
of it had been bad. When I hadn’t been in training or helping Chloe, I had been
running through combat drills. I’d grown faster and more agile under Lev’s
watchful eye. I could do things with a blade that would make any Slaugh proud.

Best of all, I had finally cracked
Lev’s shell. He was still callous and rude and a downright bully when he was
teaching me how to defend myself, but otherwise he had grown patient and even
attentive. We could
talk
now. Despite my training to join the clergy, I
sometimes wanted more than that.

Lev never tried to kiss me. Not
since that first kiss when he was locked up a jail cell had he made a move. Either
he was oblivious, or he was too respectful of my training to try anything. Some
days it was enough to make me tear off my green robe and stomp on it when
nobody was looking.

The breeze brushed my face and I
closed my eyes, reliving my one and only kiss. At the time I’d been angry,
confused and terrified.

My eyes flew open and I picked up
my pace. I couldn’t re-live that fateful night without thinking of Hue Briar. That
was the night I’d discovered that he wasn’t what he seemed.

I shivered in spite of the warm day.
Somebody waved hello as I walked by, but I ignored them. How many times would I
see Hue’s beautiful blue eyes clouded with hate? How many more times would I
have to see him consumed by fire? The memories were inescapable. They made me
wake up some nights shaking.

Hue’s only crime had been becoming
Robyn’s puppet, and he’d done it for me. He’d loved me and he died because of
it.

Hue’s father, the Duke of Briar,
was incensed over the loss. His relationship with Hue had not been close, but
Hue was his only heir. Now the future of the duke’s overseas domain was
uncertain. Messengers arrived every week from Larlaith with the duke’s
accusations and demands for answers. He refused to believe that his son was a
casualty of nothing more than love and misplaced trust.

“Tsk tsk,” the cathedral door said
when I arrived. “Your aura is as black as a lump of coal in an ink well.”

“Thanks.”

“Boys again,” the door guessed.
“You’d best forget they exist if you wish to continue towards becoming a
priestess. Remember—”

“A whole spirit means a peaceful
mind and an unchained heart. Yes, I remember. Can I go in now? I think I’m
running late.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,”
the door said.

Once inside, I slid off my shoes
and looked around.

In the time since I’d begun my
training, the cathedral had grown and revealed itself to me. I used to walk
into a long, dark empty hallway. Now I saw many, many doors and heard the
voices of all the priests and priestesses who filled the place. They shuffled
back and forth between the cathedral’s expansive rooms, sometimes carrying
strange objects. Once I’d even seen a priestess walk by carrying a potted
shrub. This in and of itself was not remarkable; all priests and priestesses
were required to do some gardening. What was remarkable was that a spirit was
sitting atop the shrub.

My own Spirit Mentor appeared in a
large sapling, but I could not carry it around with me. The thought of lugging
around the tree with my Spirit Mentor peeking from the branches struck me as
funny. It helped to take my mind off Hue.

“Aha! Caught you smiling! That’s a
first,” Anouk said as approached with a basket of seeds.

I glanced at the basket. “Is that
from the library?”

The fawn-eyed priestess laughed. It
was an infectious sound. “Goodness no! This is an ingredient for supper
tonight. I’m making my special crispy bread for the other trainees. Will you be
able to join us?”

I’d promised Chloe I’d dine with
her and after that I was hoping to get in some combat practice with Lev. “Sorry,”
I said. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Then I’ll just have to save a
slice for you, won’t I?”

I smiled. It was hard to stay in a
bad mood around Anouk. “Sounds good. What’s on the agenda today?”

“A session with your Spirit
Mentor,” Anouk said as she stirred a fingertip around in the basket of hard,
shiny seeds. “Then a history recital with me.”

“No library?” I loved going to the
cathedral library. It was an orchard where all the knowledge grew as fruit on
trees. I spent hours there some days learning as much as I could. In the past
months, I’d become proficient in all things Fay, from their written language to
their biology and demographics. It came as a surprise to learn that there were
other pockets of Fay with varying appearances and languages scattered
throughout Faylinn, just as in the human world. In fact, when you took away the
magic, they were more or less the same as humans, reaching all the life stages
at roughly the same time and living to an average age of ninety years.

The same could not be said for
Slaugh. So far, I’d only found one tree whose fruit contained knowledge of the
race. From it, I’d learned that most Slaugh were lucky to reach forty and that you
didn’t want to meet one who had because it meant he’d killed anyone who’d tried
to kill him first, thereby becoming a gruesome alpha in a race of top predators.

I’d asked Lev about it once,
pointing out that at eighteen he was nearing middle age.

“True,” he’d said, dodging a blow
to his shoulder (these conversations almost always took place while we were sparring).
“I should have taken a wife and fathered children by now.”

I’d made a face, then ducked and
rolled to avoid one of his knives. “Wow, don’t make it sound glamorous or
anything.”

“It’s not, Em. It’s just a fact of
life. We die fast, so we have to live fast.”

I’d paused to wipe some sweat out
of my eyes. “You know, maybe you wouldn’t all die so fast if you’d channel your
energy into something besides fighting. What about knitting? Or yoga? Ooh, how
about meditation? Very calming, I hear.”

“Em…”

“Feng shui? Pilates? Tai chi? I’m
not sure what those are. I’m just saying words now.”

Lev had narrowed his eyes and
frowned the way he always did whenever he was pretending to be mad at me. “If
you were half as good at self-defense as you are at running your mouth, you
wouldn’t need to mend your trousers.”

I’d glanced down. “There’s nothing
wrong with my—”

Lev had then swept by me in a blur
and sliced my left pants leg off at the knee.

“Point made. You know, you’re
pretty fast for an old man.”

“No library today,” Anouk said,
bringing me back into the present.  “Come find me in the garden when you get
finished.”

The room where my Spirit Tree stood
was quiet and dim with just a single ray of light pouring in from one high
window. The tree was, as always, eerily still. Not a leaf fluttered until I watered
the roots with a can I’d filled with my tears.

The branches twitched. Leaves
rustled. All at once a shimmering purple figure blossomed from the branches.
The tall woman, part Fay, part Slaugh, gazed down on me with motherly concern.

Though I had discovered the
identity of my Spirit Mentor by accident, the spirit had no idea of her past
life or deeds. She was never distracted by personal memories because she did
not have them. She was a guide focused solely on helping me to understand my
strengths and confront my weaknesses.

“Linaeve,” I said.

The purple spirit beamed something
like a smile. Her face, when it was discernible, was exquisite. “I knew you’d
come today. These are fresh tears you’ve brought. Are you in mourning again?”

I sighed. “It’s Hue. I can’t stop
thinking about what happened to him.”

“You’re not to blame,” Linaeve
said.

“Tell that to his father. The Duke
of Briar has been making all kinds of threats now that he doesn’t have an heir.
I can deal with it, but Chloe…”

“I see. You’re doubling your guilt
by adding hers. This is not constructive, Emma.” Linaeve lowered her head and
said sternly, “You must move on.”

“How?” I asked.

The leaves of the tree fluttered
while Linaeve grew silent. She appeared to be thinking. After a moment she
said, “You need something else to occupy your mind.”

I almost laughed. When I wasn’t
feeling guilt over Hue, there were a hundred other things ready to fill my head
with worry. “What do you suggest? Should I take up baking?”

Linaeve’s form grew cloudy and I worried
that I’d angered her.

 “I apologize,” Linaeve said. Her
form grew bright again and I could see her facial features. She wasn’t scowling,
but she did wear a slightly pained expression. “I just had…a moment. A memory,
perhaps.”

My ears perked up. “Really?”

“It was just a second. Just a
flash. You said something impertinent—”

“Sorry,” I said, squirming.

“I saw a different person standing
in your place. A million feelings. A thousand words all in one instant. How can
I describe it?” Her voice grew fast and breathless. “I saw him, just as though
he was standing here.”

I’d never seen the spirit grow so
emotional. Fortunately, I knew some of the sordid details of the life of
Linaeve Winterwing, nee´ Grimmoix. She had left Ivywild to marry the Slaugh
king. I often wondered what kind of man Hagan Winterwing was to lure away
somebody like Linaeve. It wasn’t as though she’d had a bad life at Ivywild.
She’d been close friends with Florrie Finbarr and Othella when they were young.
Then again, she’d been raised by her aunt, High Priestess Grimmoix. That would
be enough to drive anyone away.

 “Maybe it was your husband!” I
said in excitement.

Linaeve shook her head. “I cannot
say. My past is of no consequence.”

“But—”

“We must find some way to occupy
your mind,” Linaeve said with a dangerous tone of finality.

Disappointed, I stared at the
floor. “If you insist.”

“What of your family?” Linaeve
asked. “You haven’t spoken of them in a while.”

My family history read like one
long tragedy. I far preferred teasing out the secrets of Linaeve’s life.

“I’m sensing resistance,” Linaeve
said.

“Mom and Dad are dead,” I said.
“There isn’t much to tell.”

“But what about your grandparents?”
Linaeve asked. “Your grandfather was a priest, wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” I said. The Seelie Court
threw that fact in my face every time they got the chance.

“What happened to him?” Linaeve
asked. “What caused him to send your father away to the human world?”

I was about to reply when I
realized I didn’t really have an answer. All I knew of my grandfather,
Alberich, was that he had been a priest but was later condemned as a dissenter
because he married in secret. After that the details became blurry. My father
had been sent away using a stolen Pyxis Charm while Alberich and his wife had
died in some kind of attack.

“See?” Linaeve said. “It gives you
something to seek.”

I had assumed that if I was meant to
know what had happened to my grandparents, I would have been told by now. In my
mind they had just been casualties of Faylinn’s murky, violent past.

“I guess I could work it out,” I
said. “I don’t know where to start, though. My family tree in the orchard
wasn’t able to show me.”