Forgotten Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 3)
Page 46
Nimby finished his tea, then continued. “Your grandma, Nettle had tremendous power with plants and a penchant for playing tricks on people. Your grandfather, a Fierie boy named Axion, was quiet, calm and mild, very unlike many of his people. They loved each other right off, which is very lucky, as your grandmother swore she wouldn’t abide an arranged marriage to his eldest brother, Flavious, who was brutish and pushy.”
Nimby smiled, remembering someone Ariana ached to know, though she knew she never would. “Your grandmother Nettle avoided Flavious and married Axion, the family’s third child, in private. Axion was a favorite of all who met him, a strong fairy in psychic magic.”
“What does that mean? Psychic magic?” Ariana asked. She scratched Wot’s little head and he nudged her hand in appreciation.
“It means he could, though he rarely did, read minds. And he often moved things with his mind. I think it made it a bit harder for your grandmother to pull the wool over his eyes, though she could do so with almost everyone else. His was a rare gift, one your mother has a little of, though not nearly as strong. She has an uncanny intuition for truths, though she cannot read minds.”
Nimby laughed, “And we are all thankful for that. Your mother is strong enough without being all-knowing. Speaking of which, your mother, Queen Seerana, took the throne of Pieramu the year you were born. Your grandparents, Nettle and Axion, were killed by vigilantes in Fierie territory during one of their visits.” Nimby took a deep breath, as though he were fighting back a strong emotion. He ran a hand tiredly through his curly hair, and his eyes were sharp and sad.
Ariana’s own throat felt tight with tears over the death of the grandparents she would never meet. She felt like a part of what made her who she was died with them, even if she’d never known them. She’d never been given the chance, really. It all seemed so unfair.
Nimby took a deep breath and continued. “Seerana was called back, just after your birth, to take the throne. None of us thought she’d heed the call. She hated the young man, Dracomar, presented as her potential mate during the courtship proceedings of her time.”
Nimby shook his head. “I don’t blame your mother. Dracomar was, is really, vain and ill-tempered, but I don’t think that was the only reason she detested him.”
Nimby rubbed his temples, as if the memory pained him. “So, she left for a full year without saying goodbye. She only returned when I ventured into the mortal realm to find her after your grandparent’s tragic death. By then, she was heavy with child. It was not until a year ago that she shared with the kingdoms that she had an heir. Though, of course, I’ve known of you all this time. I have so longed to meet you, youngling.”
Ariana frowned. Why had he wanted to meet her? And if he’d wanted to meet her so badly, why hadn’t he tried? She was both angry with her mother for abandoning her and pitying of her situation. It seemed her Seerana had much the same problems as a young woman as Ariana was having.
Nimby smiled and refilled Ariana’s teacup. The sweet steam tickled her nose invitingly. She sipped it and it calmed her. “Anyway, your mother has been fighting off suitors for twelve years.”
Ariana whistled in solidarity. She’d only been staving off suitors for a year and felt exhausted.
Nimby nodded in agreement. “She finally announced last year that she still had no intentions to marry. The Fieries were furious that she was still spurning all potential suitors. The peace has been very unsteady since that time.”
Ariana was torn by this news. It scared her to be thrust into such a hostile situation, but she admired her mother for making the decisions she made. She also hated that she admired the woman who abandoned her.
Nimby’s sigh was a weary one. “Small battles have popped up around in and around Endowa, mostly around Fuerone. Mysterious disappearances of important Pieramu pixie families are more commonplace than I’d like to admit. Your mother realized that it was time to keep the peace your grandfather ordered all those years ago. She realized that the only way to keep the bubbles of discontent from bursting was to reveal her secret and marry her daughter to a Fierie heir.”
What?! After all Nimby had just told her, her mother was relegating her daughter to the same fate she avoided? It was hypocrisy!
“So, my mother had me so that I could be a trophy of peace for some fairy Lordling?” Ariana stood so abruptly Wot fell from her lap with a thump. He huffed grumpily and smoke came out of his little nostrils.
Nimby stood, alarmed by the way Ariana’s hair floated around her like a halo, the air sizzling with her power. He held his hands in front of him, as if warding off her wrath. His eyes grew wide and wary. She saw playing back her earlier tantrum with the stone bridge when they first met. She realized with sudden clarity that she frightened him, but she could not seem to control her anger.
“She sounds about as wonderful as my father. At least he didn’t abandon me!”
Ariana’s anger pushed to free itself from the loose reins in which she held it. Her skin danced with hot sparks of magic, magic that seemed to surge in time with her anger. Wot nudged her ankle, but his muzzle was shocked by the static of her magic. He squealed and backed away from her. Alarmed that her friend was hurt, Ariana sucked her magic back in, pushing it down to her core. Once there, it stirred fitfully, but it no longer sparkled on her skin. She bent down to Wot, holding out her hand. The little Driode sniffed and backed away, fear in his eyes.
“Oh, Wot! I’m so sorry. I can’t help it, sometimes. It just...it’s so unpredictable! Please forgive me.” She held out her hand imploringly. She felt alone, all over again, as her little friend backed away in suspicion and Nimby’s frowned in disapproval.
“Your temper, my lady, would rival your grandfather Nexis. And that is not a compliment.” Nimby crossed the floor to look out the porthole of ship.
He turned back to Ariana. “Give the Driode time, and think before you react, if you want him to trust you. I cannot explain your mother’s choices to you, I can only tell you what I know. For that, you must speak with her. I will only say I have known her for her entire life, and I have watched her, daily, mourn the loss of your childhood. I must go above soon, to help Seaira navigate. We are entering hostile territory.”
Ariana sulked, still holding out her hand to Wot, who sniffed and turned his tail towards her. Ha! Her mother had been mourning her, had she? Mourning a child she had never even known, a child she mean to abandon to the same fate that her mother had run from?
Nimby could not know the controlling environment her father placed her under. He had no idea that her father had guilted, punished, and shamed her into suppressing a magic that would not be suppressed, but she was too angry to explain it to a man who was clearly on her mother’s side in all this. She let her words fall away. She couldn’t say it would be any better after what Nimby just told her. At least her mother would’ve expected Ariana to use her magic, maybe even trained her in it.
Nimby put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I understand your frustration, Princess, I really do. I am hopeful that you will have a tutor in magic when we reach Pieramu. Until then, you will need to start to train your emotions. Breathe, think, then choose. And wait to be angry, if you can. Wait to meet and talk with your mother. She is a fair woman.”
“I will try,” Ariana mumbled, unconvincingly
Nimby stared at her for a moment, a stern, fatherly look in his eyes, as if he didn’t believe she would try, but didn’t want to press the point.
Ariana folded her arms across her chest. “I just ran away from all that in the human world just to run into the same mess again! I won’t marry someone I dislike or even loathe to appease a mother who abandoned me.” Ariana’s blood boiled all over again. She clenched her fists and counted back from ten to keep her power from surging.
Nimby shook his head. “She didn’t promise a marriage. She only promised you would meet with Gunthar. In any case, marriage at your age is not customary. You would be given much time to get to know your pot
ential mate, and to get to know your powers. I can understand why you might not feel much affinity towards Queen Seerana nor towards your people, but please do me the favor of withholding judgement. Please don’t let me show up empty handed. To the Pieramu pixies, you are hope.”
“His name is Gunthar? Wonderful…” Ariana replied, purposefully not responding to Nimby’s pleas.
Nimby chuckled. “You are so like your mother. I know you have a lot of anger in your heart for her, but I hope you’ll give her a chance. She has been mourning your loss for thirteen years.”
Ariana snorted, not trusting herself to say anything pleasant. She didn’t like arguments and conflicts and would not waste her breath on Nimby. He had a clear affinity for her mother, and nothing she could say would change his mind. She, however, was resigned to thinking of her mother as the hypocrite she clearly was.
“Very becoming, my lady. We are beginning our ascent into Fuerone, Fierie territory. I must go above and help Seaira navigate. You may come above with me, if you’d like.”
Ariana followed Nimby upstairs. Wot slunk along behind them, but she didn’t bother the Driode. If he was anything like her, his trust would come with the kind of patience, kindness and care she’d received from her nurse after her father had done something to upset her. Ariana’s heart ached for Ruthie, now, who always seemed to understand her. She waved a shy hand at Wot and smiled toward him. His little tail waggled a little in response.
Nimby waited by the door leading to the upper deck for several seconds, his head cocked to one side, as if he were listening to something. He nodded, counted down from ten then said, to the air around him, “Thanks, again, my girl. I’m coming up. Let’s keep a cautious pace. We don’t want to seem overly keen to leave their territory. I’ll help keep a wary eye out. Let’s take the first left of the river, through the more populated areas.”
He tilted his head to the side, listened, then sighed. “Yes, yes. I do know it’s risky. Normally, I’d agree that the right bend would be wisest, but with the increased raids on the less populated route, I’m hesitant, especially with our...cargo.” He turned the circular handle lock and it clicked open.
Ariana strained to hear what Nimby was hearing, in vain. “Who are you talking to, Nimby?”
“Oh, that’s right. I forget you can’t hear her. Seaira is my family’s vessel. I’m part pixie, part tree sprite, you see. So, my magic, weak as it is, is tied to trees. Seaira comes from one of my family’s fallen trees. We asked her permission to recreate her into a vessel and helped her to transfer her spirit in the process. She can be heard by others only when she wants to be. I hear her even when she wishes to be left alone. It is a gift and a curse, eh, Seaira.”
A low, tenor breeze-like laughter fluttered Seaira’s sails.
“You have a beautiful laugh, Seaira,” Ariana said, to be friendly instead of completely flabbergasted, though that’s how she felt.
“She says, ‘Thank the princess,’ and I do,” Nimby replied.
“My pleasure,” Ariana answered, wondering when the ship would feel comfortable enough to let Ariana hear her.
Nimby looked past his vessel to the landscape beyond. “Ah, it is a glittering place, Fuerone, is it not? It can hurt the eye, it’s so bright.” Nimby narrowed his eyes as if against the sun.
Ariana took the final steps and emerged into the sunlit world with a gasp. Nimby was right. She shaded her eyes to the too vibrant beauty of the world around her, which felt even brighter after having just risen from the dark depths of the cave lake. It was more than the beaming sun and blindingly blue skies, however. Fuerone really did seem to glitter. The colors of the trees surrounding the river, the water itself, the flowers on the shore, the grass, even the rocks were so vibrantly hued they seemed to sparkle. It was beautiful, to be sure, but almost too beautiful, as if they were in a child’s picture of a perfect world, gaudy and shining.
And under all that beauty there was a pressure that pulled at her magic in a wrong way. It felt sinister and malignant. “There’s something not right about this place,” Ariana said in an undertone.
Nimby nodded and muttered, “Your intuition is good. It is because you have such strong magic that you can feel it, though I get a tickle of the wrongness, as well. The Fieries have been sowing discord into their world. Those with stronger magic, like your soon-to-be-suitor, Gunthar, and his family, have a greater sway over their territory than those with lesser magics.”
Nimby shook his head, disgruntled. “If they choose to do bad with their magic, as your mother suspects that have been doing, what with the raids, disappearances and discord, they taint their magic and their land. Your grandmother, Thistle, may have been Fierie, but she never used her magic for evil. She was peace-loving for a Fierie fairy. She had her own interests, to be sure, but Endowa never felt like this when she reigned in Pieramu.”
“All the stories Ruthie read to me of fairies said that they were helpful, kind and sweet. It was always pixies who were portrayed as mischievous and bad,” Ariana replied, her heart still aching for her nurse.
Nimby scoffed. “Any being can be good or bad, kind or mean. Not that mischief doesn’t run in our line.”
He winked at Ariana. “Mischief is fun, and, yes, pixies are much more fun than fairies, in my humble opinion. We will arrive at the border in a little while. The main city of Fuerone is concentrated near the border. We will probably be asked to stop and will be boarded at that time. When we are boarded, please allow me to speak. I don’t think the Fieries would try anything in so public a place, but I really don’t want them knowing Queen Seerana’s heir is aboard the ship.”
Ariana nodded absently, scratching at the unsettling tickle that sat upon her skin as though she could rid herself of it. She gawked at the bright, sparkling world, full of the most vibrant pink flowers, lime green grass and teal waters. Her eyes ached by the time they began to spot fairy dwellings, which were built one on top of the other up the sides of massive tree trunks. The homes were decorated with flowers, vines, twigs and leaves all arranged in intricate, brilliant mosaics. The beings that moved in and out of the homes, surprisingly, were not much smaller, if any, than herself. Adult fairies, indeed, were much taller than her. The stories always described fairies as little bug-sized beings. The stories, so far, seemed pretty useless when it came to the truth.
The dwellings started to become more cramped and smaller the further along the river they traveled, and Nimby’s hands tightened more desperately upon the side of the ship.
“We’re approaching the border dock, Seaira, my girl. Slow and easy,” he muttered, as much to himself as to the ship, it seemed.
A fierce pull of tense, wrong magic, pulled upon her own. That, and the look in Nimby’s eyes combined to make her feel more uneasy about meeting any Fieries. She picked absently at the torn, disheveled sleeve of her burnt and dirty gown, when she felt a bump against her trembling hand. She looked down and saw Wot dragging something in his copper teeth. It was one of her dresses, a green cotton one with gold trim. It was one of her most comfortable and most informal dresses. She looked down at herself, then at Wot, before breaking into a wide grin.
“Are you trying to tell me I’m not presentable, Wot?” She asked the little Driode.
Wot simply pushed the dress towards her with his head in answer. Nimby looked down at him and chuckled. “Good thinking, young one. Ariana, you may use the cabin downstairs to change.”
“I feel more of that wrongness. It’s like tiny pinpricks all up and down my arms,” she answered, plucking her dress from Wot.
“Thanks, buddy.” Wot wagged his little tail like a puppy. His floppy ears lifting with his mood.
“That’s the feeling, all right. The closer you are to the powerful Fierie families the more you’ll feel it, I’m afraid. I think we might be looking at more than just border patrols ahead. Please change and wash quickly, Princess.”
Ariana didn’t bother to tell him to call her by her name. He seemed dist
racted, even fearful. His hands flexed upon the ship’s railing. His knuckles were white.
“Okay, I’ll make it quick,” she answered, and skipped away down the stairs, through the door and into the cabin with the green dress tucked under her arm.
Ariana quickly disrobed, kicking her dirty, torn, burned mess of a dress to the side. She scanned the cabin until she found a washbasin and used the fourth-full pitcher of water by the basin to wash her face, hands and arms. She then pulled a white underdress and the clean green cotton dress over her head.
Ariana rushed over to her carpet bag, some of the contents of which had been strewn on the floor by the helpful Wot. She placed her light bracelet in a pocket, as it was a little too conspicuous. She found her mirror and brush and tamed her tangled black hair, which fell heavy and straight upon her shoulders. Last minute, she rummaged in the side pocket of her carpet bag and brought out the silver compass, which she hung at her neck. Satisfied she looked a little more presentable, she made her way back to the top deck, where Nimby and Wot were waiting by Seaira’s bow.
Ariana joined her companions at the bow and immediately regretted it. Her stomach fluttered and her face flushed with nerves. There, on the edge of a nature-scape city-center, the likes of which she’d never experienced, was a retinue of intimidating guards in red and orange, standing in front of a sparkling red carriage. Crowds of fairies in a variety of colors, ages, genders and heights crowded around the dock Seaira was approaching.
“Steady on, now,” Nimby muttered, possibly to Ariana, possibly to Seaira, maybe both.
Ariana swallowed her fear, her power fluttering anxiously around her stomach. She took deep breaths, trying to steady herself as Nimby suggested. She didn’t want any uncontrolled power surges at a time like this. She wasn’t supposed to stand out. She looked down at her dress and smiled over at Wot. The Driode couldn’t have knowingly chosen her plainest dress, could he? It was the perfect choice, if so—unassuming and simple.