The Shattered Mirror (Winter's Blight Book 4)

by M. C. Aquila

  James was weakened from the long walk and slowed until he was at the rear with Alvey, the others ahead of them. The air was less dry here, damper, and warmer. He removed his scarf from around his nose, breathing deeply. The air smelled of moss and dew.

  As Alvey neared, she reached under her chair’s seat, producing one of the star-shard flowers from a pouch. She stuck out her fist with the flower clutched in it, James narrowly avoiding a punch to his gut. “Take this,” she said airily. “We shall need it to enter the Summer Court so the Seelies know we are with them. Place it on the entrance stones, a cluster that lines up with the autumn equinox.”

  Taking it gingerly from her hand, James held it up. The sight of the warmly glowing petals never failed to lift his spirits. “Why, um, are you giving it to me?”

  “You seem quite eager to see the Summer Court for some silly reason. I thought you would like to be the one to signal the Seelies.” Her features twitched at a frown, and she held out her hand again expectantly. “However, if you do not want it—”

  “No.” James clutched the flower to his chest protectively. “No, I-I want it. I just wasn’t expecting…” He trailed off, grinning. “Thank you, Alvey.”

  “Say no more about it.” She turned away sharply, cheeks pink.

  The cool, damp air was still, and no one spoke as they walked through the field toward Castlerigg, toward the Summer Court. James stumbled as he tried to step high over the long grasses, looking up at the darkening sky, expecting to see the trace of the barrier like ripples in water or the nuclear bomb still suspended above from the Cataclysm thirty years ago. There was nothing but clouds.

  For a moment there was a sound like thunder. James squinted, standing there in confusion, when he heard the pounding of Cai’s boots on the ground; Cai charged back to him from a yard or so ahead, where he’d been leading the group. The knight’s large hand grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. He staggered into a patch of purple thistles.

  James glared at him. “What have I done wrong this—?” The words died in his throat at the sight of dark shapes tearing down the hill behind them in a blur.

  “Go!” Cai shouted, shoving him again. He reached for his sword. “Get to the stones! Protect your mother—they may sense she’s a thrall!”

  James took off and caught up with the rest of the group as they raced to the stones through the field, the thunderous growls growing louder and closer. Breathing hard, he grabbed Mum’s arm as they crossed the entrance and entered the circle.

  “This way!” James called to the others, pulling Mum with him as he veered toward the smaller rectangular formation of stones on the far side of the circle. He skidded on the muddy ground. “This must be where the entrance to the Court is!”

  With fumbling hands, he grabbed the flower from his jacket pocket and tossed it in the middle on the grass. The second it touched the ground, the flower’s petals glowed, turning into an orange flame. The fire grew until it was white with heat. Then another flame appeared in the air a few feet above the flower, hovering like a will-o’-the-wisp.

  Like a rock splitting a waterfall, the atmosphere shimmered and parted, revealing first the light of a burning torch and the figure holding it second. The male faery had tan skin speckled with white markings like deerskin, reddish-brown hair that reflected the firelight, and antlers just rising from his skull like those of a juvenile stag. Dressed in a dark, knee-length chiton, he appeared ageless: both ancient and very young at once.

  “Roshan!” Alvey shouted impatiently. “Make haste!”

  The male faery, Roshan, was beaming at her, but when he saw the creatures racing down the hill behind them, he frowned and lifted the staff-like torch he was holding, waving it swiftly through the air. An arc of flame shot out and created a ring of fire around the stone circle that did not scorch the grass or wildflowers.

  Roshan stepped back to let them race through the opening in the barrier. The second they all entered, the barrier shimmered closed behind them and the howling of the dogs was blotted out.

  A deep blue darkness surrounded them, lit only by Roshan’s brightly burning torch. A strong wind blew unseen boughs above them, sounding like the ocean. Leaves fell, golden in the torchlight. It smelled of an evening forest, but the scent was intense, rich, and earthy.

  “You are now inside the Summer Court, safe from those hounds.” Roshan spun his staff, which snuffed out the flames, and placed it on his back. When he snapped his fingers, five balls of soft, red-gold light appeared around him and spread out around the group. James reached for one, and it slipped right through his fingers, leaving them warm and tingly.

  “You let us in—” Deirdre gulped, sinking down a bit as if suddenly shy. “Are you the Summer Prince?”

  “Aye.” His smile faltered as his hazel-blue eyes roved over each one of them in turn, lingering the shortest time on Iain and the longest on Deirdre. When he looked to James, the boy was suddenly very aware of Cecil’s book in his hands, and he turned to the side to hide it.

  Roshan addressed Alvey, sounding like a scolding big brother as he said, “Alvey, are you aware of how your actions have hurt your mother and father?”

  “I am perfectly fine.” Alvey wheeled herself between the group and Roshan, sticking her nose in the air. “These people have all aided me somewhat in my vastly successful endeavors outside the Court. I was never in any danger, and I handled myself well, a truth Mother and Father will be forced to accept.”

  “You may discuss that with them presently—let us go.” Roshan placed a hand on Alvey’s chair, then addressed the rest of the group. “Nikias will see to your companions.”

  As soon as he spoke, there came the faint stamping of hooves, and the wind slowed. Out of the darkness came four tall faeries, armed with curved, single-bladed swords in hand.

  Deirdre jerked forward. “Alvey—”

  “I shall see you on the morrow, I imagine.” She turned in her seat to face them. “You will be fine. Do not fret.”

  The balls of light converged on her and Roshan, and in an instant and a flash, they vanished, taken away with a strong gust of wind.

  “Wha—” James pointed at where they were. “Um, what kind of magic—”

  “That is not your concern.” The foremost of the four faeries summoned balls of light, but they were smaller and brighter, making James squint. They did not disperse around the area but instead hovered by the faery’s head.

  As the faery stepped forward, Cai’s hand twitched for the pommel of his sword, but he clenched his hand into a fist instead. “Here we go,” he muttered.

  “I am Nikias, commander of the Eniad,” the faery said, walking a slow, deliberate circle around them, like a predator considering its prey. He had warm brown skin and dark brown hair, with ivory buffalo-like horns. He too was dressed in a chiton, black and silver, and wore a short, green cape, fastened with silver onto a dark gray breastplate. And his eyes were a bright yellow, fixed on them like a hawk.

  James took an unconscious step back, bumping into his brother.

  The instant Nikias halted in front of them, Iain took a deep breath and said, “My name is Iain Callaghan, and I was a soldier in the Iron Guard. We’ve traveled a long way to the Summer Court for a few reasons, one of them being to warn you of the coming war. The Iron Guard has a device built to destroy the barrier with faery magic, which they now—”

  Ignoring him completely, Nikias’s gaze narrowed on James and Mum. “If these thralls have escaped the hunt, we are not meant to interfere with—”

  “What?” James snapped, forgetting for a moment how intimidating the faery was. When Nikias snapped his gaze to the boy, quieter, he said, “We didn’t, um, escape the hunt. We’re not thralls.”

  Nikias scrutinized the rest of the group. “What business could a cursed man, two thralls, and a hollow, magic-less faery have with the Summer Court?”

  When Deirdre let out a shocked gasp, Iain glanced at her before turning back to Nikias, crossing
his arms. “Her name is Deirdre, and she’s a Seelie faery. She was told to go to the Summer Court to find her parents, which is another reason why we’re—”

  Nikias interrupted again. “You may state your business later at the summons, in front of the Seelie king and queen.”

  Iain’s mouth fell open.

  Nikias made a quick, precise gesture to his men, who surrounded the group with weapons raised. “For tonight, you shall be escorted to a holding cell where you shall remain until the summons.”

  “Right, of course,” Iain said, red-faced and breathless as he tried to get the words out as fast as possible. “But my friend Deirdre needs help with her magic as soon as possible, and she needs to—”

  “Come this way. Make haste.” Nikias used his sword to point them in the right direction, and the group had no choice but to follow as the armed faeries ushered them like sheep through the forest.

  Though James wanted to stop and look around the dusk-blue woods, especially when they passed a hollow log full of sprites picking the glowing mushrooms inside, if he even slowed his pace for a second, one of the faeries behind him poked him in the back with the dull end of a spear. But there was movement everywhere in the forest, and he caught glimpses of glowing eyes reflecting in the light and heard the sounds of rustling foliage as unseen creatures moved.

  When Nikias stopped in the middle of the forest and announced they had arrived, James glanced around in confusion. A line of tall trees was before them, and one of them had few branches, with the massive inner trunk only growing up to about twenty feet, which was much shorter than the trees.

  “Is it hollow?” he asked, staring up and gaping. The tree seemed both dead and thriving at once. The leafy branches extended far into the darkness above, and the trunk was perhaps wider in diameter than James and Iain’s old bedroom back in Neo-London.

  “Aye,” Nikias replied, glancing at James. “No more questions, child.”

  As the faery approached it, placing his hand on the smooth, silvery bark, the tree roots shifted in the ground and a gap appeared in the bark and grew until it was wide enough for a person to duck through.

  James smiled in awe at the sight until he realized they were meant to go inside. Mum took his hand as the faeries corralled them toward the large tree. Nikias summoned more balls of lights that strung themselves down into the tunnel and beyond, lighting the way and looking like tiny Christmas lights.

  Cai went inside first, ignoring a faery who offered to guide him inside. Iain stayed close to Mum and James as they headed down, Deirdre following behind.

  However, the gusting wind returned again, nearly knocking James over, and he and his friends stopped and grabbed the roots, bracing themselves. On the wind was a faint whistling, sounding like a flute. Nikias shut his eyes, letting out a sigh through his teeth.

  A smooth but powerful, smoky female voice weaved through the forest on the wind. “Deirdre shall accompany me for the night, Brother.”

  James stuck his head out of the tree, his jaw dropping as he gawked at the source of the voice. She was a tall, slender faery with the same warm brown skin as Nikias, with long black hair tumbling down her back, small curved horns protruding from the waves. She walked like the wind, quickly and smoothly, her flowing white peplos rippling around her.

  “You trust too easily, Cardea,” Nikias countered. “As your elder brother, I should warn you that this faery is no more trustworthy than these strangers.”

  “I should think not.” Cardea drifted over to Deirdre and looped one arm through hers, patting her hand. “I see no deception in these weary eyes. Moreover, her leg is injured and needs tending.”

  Deirdre stared at her, stammering. “I, er—”

  But she guided Deirdre up to level ground, saying, “You will come with me while your friends stay here. We have much to talk about, and it has been a while since I have had a proper discussion with reasonable Fae.” She stopped and shot a smug look at Nikias.

  “I don’t…” Deirdre looked between the group and Cardea uncertainly, gnawing on her lip.

  “We’ll be all right here,” Iain said, offering her a reassuring smile. “And I’ll— We’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

  Nodding, Deirdre mirrored his expression. “Tomorrow.”

  Then, after Cardea swept Deirdre away into the forest, the group entered deeper into the tree. As the last to enter, James glanced back once to see Nikias in front of the opening, frowning after them. As he left, the gap in the roots slowly closed.

  The Christmas-like lights stayed in the tunnel, and they stretched into the circular wooden cell and wrapped around it like a wall decoration, giving them just enough light.

  Above them, the branches stretching out from the hollow tree pulled up and then laced with each other overhead, with a soft, moaning creak. They formed a tight, enormous lattice, leaving small patches of sky visible from between them. The wind howled outside, and the clouds swept away, revealing stars and moonlight. James could not see the moon, but he saw a smattering of stars through the lattice above.

  A faery prison was still a prison, no matter how beautiful it was.

  Chapter Three

  “We have few permanent houses in the realm, as we sleep wherever we find ourselves,” Cardea said as she led Deirdre by the arm through the dark woods. “But we shall go to a healing house that is not being used. I believe you shall find it quite comfortable, and we shall treat your leg there.”

  “Thank you,” Deirdre said automatically, though she couldn’t help but look back again, wishing she was spending the night with her friends. Despite her pleasant manner, walking with Cardea was about as normal as walking alongside a leopard.

  The other faeries had been no less intimidating, including the prince. The Summer Prince had not been seen by human eyes for decades, making some believe he was hiding or had left the island. Alvey had once explained, when prompted by Kallista’s questions, that he hid himself from human eyes when outside the realm due to the wishes of his parents, whom Alvey hinted more than once were overprotective.

  But given the ease of power the prince had shown helping them enter the realm safely, combined with the powerful presence he had as a Noble faery, Deirdre found it hard to imagine anyone being worried about him.

  Cardea interrupted these thoughts, suddenly whistling long and steady. In response, the wind grew even stronger, whipping Deirdre’s hair about wildly, blowing until the sky cleared and the full moon shone bright overhead.

  They turned around a bend, and Deirdre gasped.

  Before them was a gently sloping passage between the tall trees, full of flowers that opened in the moonlight and let off a faint peach glow. This path led directly to a gray house suspended in the trees.

  As they walked toward it, Cardea whistled again, this time five clear notes. Immediately the trees around them shook in reply. Four faeries with the size and appearance of Eurasian eagle owls flew out, with feathers that matched the bark of their trees perfectly and wide, round creamy eyes over marble-white beaks.

  They landed in front of Cardea and Deirdre, bowing their feathered heads.

  “Ready the house,” Cardea said. “We shall both stay there for the night.”

  Immediately they bowed once again, then flew to the house with a few silent beats of their wings.

  “What are they?” Deirdre asked, smiling after them.

  “They are a minor order of Dryads,” Cardea replied as they continued their walk. “They are excellent musicians as well, with their Wind and Flora Magic.”

  “Oh.” Deirdre frowned at her, realizing, “How did you know my name earlier?”

  “The wind carried your conversation with my brother to me. Although”—she smiled at her—“you have your father’s features. I could not mistake whose daughter you were.”

  Deirdre gulped. “You know my parents then?”

  “I am sure you wish to learn about your family. However, I am not the one to discuss them with you.” She shook her head,
wavy hair tossing. “No, tonight we shall not speak of any serious matters.”

  The faery’s voice was so final Deirdre didn’t even consider contradicting her, though her stomach sank in disappointment.

  But her spirits lifted as the inside of the tree house lit up with golden, homey lights, making the cool night around them look blue and black in comparison. To get up to the house, Cardea used magic to coax a spiral staircase around one of the trees.

  The house was open with all upper levels built as lofts. And while there were many large arched windows with no glass or screens, the wind did not blow inside through them.

  Cardea gestured Deirdre to a single, connected ring of wide couches surrounding the enormous central firepit, which had a low but warm flame inside. There were also lanterns containing balls of light similar to the ones Roshan and Nikias had created.

  When Deirdre sat on the couch, it gave beneath her just enough, the fur-covered cushions and throws silky soft, making her sigh. As Cardea busied herself near the largest central window looking out over the path they’d come from, Deirdre gazed around with her mouth hanging open.

  The house had no metal, for everything was built from and supported by wood. The central firepit was surrounded by a gigantic ring of smooth white stone, which had intricate carvings mimicking the growth patterns of leaves and tree branches. In the middle of the ring were carvings of faeries and animals. It was an odd combination of faeries hunting deer and elk and then tending for and witnessing the birth of the same animals.

  Deirdre jumped as one of the owl faeries stepped into view, completely silent. On its head was a golden platter, which had what looked like slices of yellow-skinned apple—but the fruit let off a pleasant, slightly flowery scent she immediately recognized.