The Shattered Mirror (Winter's Blight Book 4)

by M. C. Aquila

  Cai continued, “This is the same Cait Sidhe who holds the oldest faery in your Court, Puck, captive.”

  At that, Oberon raised his eyebrows in surprise, though his expression was more contemplative than outright concerned. With a scoff, Titania crossed her arms delicately, flipping one braid of flowing red hair over her shoulder, and said, “I believe you owe your queen an apology, Oberon.”

  With a sigh like air through a hollow log, the Seelie king said, “My lady Titania, I beg pardon for accusing you of capturing Puck a second time. It would seem, on this rare occasion, it was not your doing.”

  The king and queen talked among themselves, gesticulating wildly. As they disagreed, the rest of the Court shifted in a not exactly restless way but more like foliage brushed by clashing winds changing direction.

  “You vouch for this boy’s statements about this… Iron Guard?” Nikias asked Cai pointedly while Oberon and Titania continued to argue above.

  Cai folded his arms and said, “Aye.”

  Iain felt a stare on him like standing too close to a roaring bonfire, just as the skin might start to blister. Roshan, standing on the ledge of ice above, was smiling faintly at him. Feeling a little odd at first, Iain offered him an uncertain, awkward smile back. Then the moment passed and Roshan turned back to the bickering Seelie king and queen as if nothing had happened.

  A couple of minutes later, the royal squabble had ended, and Oberon said with a smug smile, “Well, wife, it would appear that however fleeting these concerns may be, only the statement regarding the human military has been vouched for.

  “However, Titania, no one has vouched for Lonan and Sybil’s offspring, and I doubt she will have a champion here…”

  Iain looked over his shoulder. Deirdre’s head was bowed, her eyes cast down, the sunlight reflecting off her ginger hair in a ring. She twisted her hands together. Then, without having to think about it, Iain took a step forward.

  “I vouch for her,” Iain announced, his voice loud and steady. “I vouch for Deirdre.”

  Behind him, Cai leaned in close, his hand digging sharply into Iain’s shoulder as he whispered like a warning, “I wouldn’t, Iain.”

  “You wish to vouch for Deirdre and her magic?” Titania asked with an amused, triumphant smile. “You wish to be her champion, to defend her honor and purpose here in the Court?”

  Iain recalled the term used before by the Water Garden faeries at the Wayfaring Festival, who had asked him the same question when they had given him the Seelie fruit to save Deirdre’s life. He had already made up his mind then.

  “Yes,” Iain said, bowing his head. “I will be her champion.”

  Oberon let out a small laugh before placing his hand on his wife’s hip, but the queen sidestepped out of his grasp icily. “It seems Titania’s—well, Deirdre’s endeavors have been vouched for after all. However, I think harnessing her magic will be quite difficult for Deirdre, especially without her drachma.”

  Drachma?

  As if sensing Iain’s confusion, Oberon elaborated impatiently. “This champion is not off to a promising start! A drachma binds a faery to their innate Magic, focuses and channels it. Faeries find theirs when they are quite young, much younger than Deirdre.

  “She must regain her magic within three days, or she will be considered as a human and it will not be safe for her to be here any longer. Similarly, as Deirdre’s champion”—Oberon’s gray stare fixed on Iain—“if she is unable to prove herself, all your words spoken here will be thus disregarded, and you will have failed to prove yourself as well.”

  The Court dispersed after Titania and Oberon disappeared back into the waterfall. When Iain reached his friends and family, his mind was racing, wondering if he had forgotten to mention something or had not said it clearly enough.

  But at Deirdre’s warm smile toward him, his anxious thoughts melted away, and he returned the gesture.

  “Iain…” Deirdre looked up at him as they walked side by side, and his pulse quickened oddly at the sound of her voice saying his name. He supposed he was still jittery from the Court summons. “I can’t believe you—thank you!”

  His face warming, Iain said, “It was true, yeah? I meant it. I do vouch for you, and I know you’ll do the best you can to get your magic back.”

  “I hope so. But what if…” She trailed off with a sharp intake of breath, as if frightened by her own thought. “Never mind,” she said, swatting her hand through the air. “Just… Thank you, Iain.”

  As they talked, the heavy presence of a shadow loomed over them, though no shadow appeared on the ground, and Lonan materialized from the shady trees beside them. They both started, Deirdre letting out a surprised, choked laugh.

  “We will begin your lessons now, Deirdre. We will work together, the two of us,” Lonan said. His voice was soft, his smile gentle as he looked at his daughter as if she had never left.

  Deirdre twirled her hair between her fingers shyly, looking down. “Um, all right.”

  When she looked at Iain, he gave her an encouraging nod and a brief pat on the shoulder. “You’ve got this, Deirdre. Just take it slow, yeah?”

  Lonan’s countenance darkened when he turned to Iain. “Callaghan, is it? I have heard tales of your father over the years.” The faery studied him with scrutiny, as if he could see the traces and influence of his father on Iain.

  Then he said, “You may join us tomorrow to see Deirdre’s progress, if you still find yourself suited to the task. I will send a guide to lead you there.”

  Iain squared his shoulders, then nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  Deirdre followed her father into the woods. Before they disappeared into the shadows, Iain caught a final glimpse of her bright ginger hair as she turned to smile at him. When she was gone, he steadfastly ignored the pang of longing in his chest.

  As the rest of the group drifted away from the gathering of faeries, the others were silent. When Iain tried to meet Kallista’s gaze, she quickly glanced away from him.

  “Making rash pacts with Fae must run in your blood,” Cai said gruffly.

  “Yeah.” Iain shrugged, saying wryly, “So does thick, strong hair—our only redeeming quality, really.”

  “I can’t get you out of this, Iain,” Cai said with a tired sigh. “If Deirdre fails, then the Seelies won’t consider a word you said. You know that, right?”

  “I know.” He held his chin up, determination filling him. “But I also know Deirdre won’t fail.”

  Chapter Seven

  Alvey returned to the wooden gazebo, which Lonan had created years ago out of birch trees with Flora magic. It had three main areas: a central dining space with a low wooden table, stone counter space, and storage and two sleeping areas with broad, sturdy hammocks with woolen and fur blankets. It was common for families to share one large hammock, but Sybil often needed her own space.

  They stored their few things there, including Sybil’s drachma, which was a round mirror she was anxious of breaking if she kept it on her person. While she didn’t used to worry about such things, she had become steadily more paranoid and unsure of herself over the past ten years.

  And Deirdre being their Deirdre makes everything worse. I never should have brought her here! Though even as Alvey thought that, guilt twisted her stomach at the memory of Deirdre the night after her magic was taken and how hurt and scared she was. But Sybil’s reaction to seeing Deirdre was just as strong a memory, and Alvey’s inability to do anything to make it better made her want to blame someone, anyone.

  Everything is dreadful, Alvey thought with a scowl as she rolled her chair up to the gazebo, angry with herself and everyone she knew.

  But she forced a smile as she called out, “Mother, are you awake?” She sensed her mother in the hammock suspended in the far side of the large white gazebo but could not tell by her breathing if she was asleep or under the sway of her own sedating magic. Sybil at times fell into a trance, especially during the day, to commune with the daytime Light Magic. M
ost faeries did this to improve their magical skill instead of sleeping. However, Sybil used it to escape.

  “I am awake, dearest,” Sybil’s voice came, soft and low. “Is your cold all gone? You were coughing last night.”

  “’Tis fine, Mother.”

  “Good. I am weary… I will retire for now.”

  Alvey gulped, hesitating before rolling to the hammock and reaching a hand out. Sybil took it, which was a good sign. “Mother, you are not upset that I went to travel, are you? You did not mention it last night.”

  Sybil squeezed her hand. “We had noticed your absence and had been searching for one night. I never would have dreamt you left the realm.” She sighed. “Please do not do that again. I was so sure you had gotten killed.”

  “Mother, I’m fourteen. Also…” Alvey pulled out the completed charm necklace from under her dress and held it forward. The crystals and metals in it throbbed with the magic pulsing through it, making Alvey hyperaware of magic flowing around her. “Because I created this charm, I can sense how Time Magic moves in the realm now! I’ll never get caught off guard by it again. I may not be a full-blood, but I can take care of myself. I’m not some weak human!”

  “Alvey, promise me.”

  “Fine. I promise.” The girl turned to wheel off in a huff but paused to ask, “Do you wish for anything?”

  “Nay. But where is your father?”

  “He is…” Alvey bit her lip. “With the guests.”

  “We have guests? I thought that was a dream.” Sybil shuddered, and Alvey heard her turn over in the hammock. “Another nightmare.”

  “They are some humans,” Alvey said quickly. “So there is no need to remember it. Right?”

  Sybil did not reply.

  Although Alvey had been absent from the Court for about a month, she had forgotten how alive it was with life and magic. There were faeries in the grass, the stones, the trees, and the sky, going about their daily lives and duties. The air was full of the scent of them, each distinct to Alvey’s honed sense of smell. The Wind Magic freely spoke of the events of the realm, which had kept Alvey awake last night until she relearned how to tune it out as she wished. But she listened now as she left her mother, hearing her father and Deirdre had left the riverbank.

  She headed back to the river, guided by the powerful, steady, quiet magic of the ancient river, calling to her like an enormous lighthouse. As she reached the open, large, sloped banks of the river, the wind carried the voices of Iain and the other humans they spoke with Nikias.

  “The king and queen have decided you will be treated as guests, not prisoners or intruders.” The faery’s voice was not angry but showed no hint of approval. “Thus I and my men will no longer be watching you.”

  “Such a shame—I was looking forward to being hassled all day,” Cai muttered.

  Alvey snickered. She would never admit it, but Cai’s curmudgeon-like behavior was amusing—when it wasn’t directed at her, of course.

  “However, one wrong move and you will be punished accordingly.” Nikias then snapped his fingers, and he and his men were whisked off by Wind and Light Magic, which usually made them apparently vanish in a flash of light, as Alvey recalled. Nikias was quite skilled with this sort of magic but only did the finger-snapping when he wanted to make an impression on someone. Alvey had teamed up with Cardea to tease him about it more than once.

  “Alvey!” James called out, noticing her.

  Rolling to and crossing the bridge, Alvey met James halfway across. They briefly exchanged notes about last night. For some reason James had been surprised and irritated about them being put in jail.

  “What are you, um, doing today?” he asked. “How is your mum?”

  “She is asleep, and I doubt she will wake until tonight. She reinforces the barrier every sunset.” Alvey tilted her head. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well”—James cleared his throat—“just, uh, the day is free, so, I mean, the realm is pretty amazing, right? So—”

  “Would you like to go for a stroll?” Alvey asked, smiling faintly.

  “Yes—yes, I mean, that’d—”

  “James and I are going to explore the realm,” Alvey announced to the rest, who were still on the riverbank. “And do not worry. I know the realm well, and he shall be quite safe with me.”

  “But where are you going? How will we find each other again?” Kallista called, stepping toward the bridge.

  “There are faeries everywhere,” Alvey said, waving up at the trees. “And we shall not go far from the river, and I doubt you will be able to either, without magic or steeds to transport you. We shall find each other again quite easily.” She added, “This river is full of very powerful Water Magic, which prevents other types of more dangerous magic from running too wild. If you stay near to it, you shall be perfectly fine.”

  She rolled down the bridge, James following quickly before any of the others could object.

  They followed the river for some time, James curiously and uncharacteristically silent. Recalling how humans could get sick, hurt, or disoriented by entering the realm, Alvey asked how he was faring.

  “I can see why you left this place,” James said in reply. “I mean, I was expecting it to be… different.”

  “How so?” Alvey snorted a laugh. “Did you expect all the faeries to be singing and dancing, making flower crowns for you?”

  “No, I mean—” She heard him scratch his head. “Everyone kind of ignores me, like I’m not even here. They treat me the same way everyone has treated me my entire life. Like I don’t matter or I won’t do anything worth their time. I thought it’d be different.”

  Alvey shrugged. “They treat everyone in such a manner.”

  “But this place, I mean, all the—” She could vaguely sense him waving his arms about, like he was trying to point to everything at the same time. “It’s amazing. And how often do humans get to come here, to the Summer Court?”

  “Almost never, and most die by their own fault.”

  “Um, right.” He cleared his throat and continued with more confidence, “I can’t let this research opportunity go to waste. I want to learn everything about this place and the magic.” He lowered his voice a bit more. “And try to use it too.”

  “You mentioned that a few days ago.” She frowned, intertwining her fingers, letting her chair roll forward on its own. “I want to know if it is truly possible for people like you and me.”

  “I know it is.”

  “Hmm.” Alvey quickly recalled tales of humans and non-pureblood Fae using magic, who usually died after trying to harness what they could not control. But she pushed that away and asked, “What would you need to test this idea? Do you require any materials?” Her hand briefly wandered to her charm necklace.

  “Well, uh, I guess…” James stopped walking, once again gesturing about. “I don’t know too much about the plants or animals in this place, so can you show me all your favorite things here? Your favorite plants and animals”—his voice cracked sharply as he finished—“and places?”

  Alvey laughed, sensing him blushing horribly as she answered, “Aye, that is possible.” She laughed again, turning her chair toward the woods and blushed herself as she felt him walk very close beside her.

  * * *

  After James left with Alvey and Deirdre with Lonan, Iain and Mum walked to a clearing near the river. The trees there were twisted in knot-like shapes, some of the branches bending low enough to sit on. Mum inspected one of the branches with great scrutiny. After brushing some dirt away, she sat with a sigh.

  Cai followed them, staying close, watchful and ready to strike. He leaned against a tree and folded his arms across his chest. Mum and Cai looked at Iain with the same stern, disappointed expression on their faces.

  “Iain,” Mum said, not bothering to hide the sharpness of her tone in front of Cai. “What, exactly, did you agree to back there? What is this about you being Deirdre’s champion? What does that even mean?” She threw her hands in
to the air with a scoff. “You did not even think it through before you opened your mouth, did you?”

  “He definitely did not,” Cai chimed in.

  Kallista walked over to Iain, placing her hand on his arm. “Listen to me, Iain. Deirdre is a nice, charming girl. But she is a faery. And humans… they don’t belong here. They do not belong around faeries or magic. You understand that, yes?”

  Iain froze for a moment, opening and closing his mouth uselessly. “I don’t know what this has to do with the Court summons.”

  “Oh, don’t you?” Mum raised her eyebrows.

  “And Deirdre, she’s not just any faery. She’s powerful, yeah, but she’s different.”

  “Maybe for now. But she will change, Iain.” Mum went to twist her wedding ring around her finger, but she found bare flesh. “Perhaps she does not know that, but I don’t want either of you to get hurt. Deirdre belongs with other faeries. Not with…”

  Iain shook his head like he could banish the thought from his mind. “We’re friends, Mum. Deirdre… she’s my friend, and I’m going to vouch for her.”

  “Yes, but you must think about the future, Iain. When all of this is finally over.”

  He had been so focused and determined to get to the Summer Court, to warn them, to try to stop the war before it started, but he had never begun to consider what would happen after. After the Winter Court was driven back and Mum and James were freed. After Deirdre was reunited with her family and regained her magic…

  He hadn’t thought about having to say goodbye.

  Then I won’t think about it. Not yet. Iain straightened his shoulders, determined. As Deirdre’s friend—and her champion, apparently—I need to focus on helping her recover her magic, making sure she fits in with the Court and her family. I’ll put my feelings for her aside. No matter what happens, if Deirdre is happy and safe… then I will have done what I set out to do. And that will be enough for me.