The Shattered Mirror (Winter's Blight Book 4)

by M. C. Aquila

  When she looked back at James, wanting to ask him more questions, the boy had turned his back to her. She said his name, beginning to speak again, but he said, “I-I don’t want to talk anymore right now. I’m sorry. Can we just… can we just move on?”

  Kallista reached for him. “But we have not finished discussing what happened at the festival. I need to know what the Cait Sidhe said to you.” She tugged on his shoulder. “James, look at me—”

  “When I found the Cait Sidhe, I asked him what… what Dad traded me for, and that’s what he told me. That’s it, all right?” Her son, pale and sullen, grabbed his notebook from his pack and started reading, ignoring her completely until she eventually walked away.

  I suppose Jal will speak to me when he’s ready, if he hasn’t told me everything already. If the Master did not hurt him, and if he cannot reach us here, perhaps this conversation can wait.

  When Cai lumbered into camp an hour later, sweat-soaked and flushed from exercise, he had asked her in his brusque way if she was all right. Instead of answering, she had said, “I think I need a change of scenery right now.”

  “I’ll escort you anywhere in the realm you like,” he said, bowing his head a little, making her almost believe Iain’s claims that the gruff ginger man had been a knight of Camelot once.

  “I’d like to be somewhere elevated,” she had said, getting to her feet. “I need a new perspective and some air.”

  “I saw a grassy hill not too far away, clear of trees and open.”

  With Cai leading the way, Kallista followed him through the forest and to a clearing: a small hill, mossy and dotted with yellow wildflowers in the shape of bells. They climbed halfway up the hill, where they could see over the tops of the trees in the forest.

  She sat down on a large boulder jutting out of the hill. When she asked Cai if he would like to sit, the man shook his head and stood at her side like a guard.

  A cool breeze blew past her, shaking the trees and the grass. Kallista tried to focus on the warming sun on her face and sort her restless thoughts.

  “Sir Cai,” she said, “were you ever married?”

  The man’s mouth fell open and then he recovered, clearing his throat. “No.”

  “Then I will take whatever advice you give me with a lump of salt.”

  “Don’t you mean a grain of salt?” Cai asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “I meant what I said.” Kallista shifted on the rock to face the old knight, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “When I left home and I learned my husband had traded our son in a faery pact, I think I was justified to believe there was no hope for him. Taking my son from me… there is nothing worse I can imagine, and I hated him.

  “I had convinced myself that I just did not see the person he truly was, that the man I had wanted to marry and to raise my children was… an illusion.” She shook her head, clasping her hands in front of her mouth. “But I just learned something—I don’t know what to think anymore. Except that I was wrong, in that there was no illusion.”

  She looked at Cai, studying his expression keenly as she continued, “You fought my husband. You mentioned he was using some kind of dark magic. Tell me honestly, Cai. Do you think he is beyond hope now? Am I being foolish?”

  The knight considered her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “This may sound old-fashioned to you, and I’ve been told I’m stuck in the past, but I would say it is your duty as his wife to confront him and address all he’s done, to call him out.”

  “You are old-fashioned.” She let out a wry chuckle.

  “It may not change anything, but I think you should at least try once to reach him. Not to excuse his actions but to try to get him to see the error of his ways. For your sake, and for his.”

  Fear gripped her, but Kallista pushed back, refusing to let it swallow her again. “Cai, how could I even begin to do that? It is going to be a war zone out there soon. And with those Unseelie monsters coming to the barrier…”

  “I wouldn’t send you out there alone.” He faced her, his hand at his sword. “I would accompany you and keep you safe, if you decided to go.”

  Kallista smiled, surprised by that, but when she opened her mouth to thank him, something unseen struck her in the chest like a strong gust of wind. A second later, a blinding, icy pain shot through her hand and up her arm, making her double over.

  Cai had ahold of her shoulders, having caught her as she fell, his questions unheard over the blood pounding in her skull and the pain rattling through her bones like they might break. As she pried her hand away from herself to look at it, there was a flash of sharp, jagged, needlelike points of white, sticking out from decaying flesh.

  The image vanished just as quickly, the pain fading after a few seconds to a dull ache. Panting, she examined her trembling hand, her hearing and vision returning, and flexed her fingers with ease.

  Cai’s face was close to hers, his blue eyes wide and his face surprisingly lined with concern. “Are you all right?” he asked. “What happened?”

  Kallista frowned at her hand, brushing away his concern, and performed some basic muscle and bone checks on her hand and wrist. “I don’t feel any fracture or strain. I can move my hand just fine. It is probably just inflammation. There could be many possible causes. Stress, for one.”

  “Has anything like that ever happened before?”

  “No.” She let out a nervous laugh. “But I cannot say I have even been this stressed before.”

  “Understandable.” Cai rose once she assured him she was fine, and it was amusing to see him fussing over her aches and pains for once.

  Looking back to her hand, she said, “When I was working for the Master, sometimes the thralls would get sick or injured. I had to find herbs and natural remedies to treat them. My mama used to treat all my ills the same way when I was a little girl.” Nodding, resolute and focused as if treating a patient, she continued, “I am certain I can come up with a treatment regimen for this. The faeries probably have everything I need in the realm already: willow bark and turmeric for inflammation, valerian root and chamomile for the stress…”

  Suddenly Cai chuckled. When Kallista looked up at him in confusion, he said, “I see now where your son James gets one of his more interesting quirks. He’ll list off facts and knowledge just like you’re doing right now. It’s how he…”

  She was grateful when the knight trailed off. He was going to say it was how her son coped with overwhelming situations. But that would be admitting her situation was overwhelming.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What is all this for?” Deirdre asked as she used Fire Magic to light another small cloth lantern. Lonan had been instructing her to reach out to the magic she’d connected with in the past: Earth and Water Magic. He then had encouraged her to try something new, and she chose Fire, curious how it would feel.

  Connecting to magic was easier in the realm. It was constantly in use by other faeries who were not dominating it with their wills, making it chattier and more active. She could feel it surrounding her constantly, like a warm, fuzzy blanket—there was no reason to fear it.

  The Fire Magic felt lively, spoke loudly, and was often unpredictable, leading to her accidentally setting some bracken ablaze, which Lonan taught her to snuff out with Shadow Magic. Once she had mastered creating a controlled flame in her hand, like flipping on a lighter, they had relocated from the wild valley to a wide clearing in the woods that was full of lanterns, made by the thin, treelike faeries Deirdre had seen yesterday morning.

  “This is for the feast tonight in the valley nearby.” Lonan gestured toward the far side of the clearing, from which the sound of water flowing came. “Lighting these lanterns may be monotonous, but it is a good way to practice control and get accustomed to Fire Magic.”

  “I don’t mind it.” Deirdre lit the one closest to her, admiring the thin, colorful cloth of the lanterns and the patterns and images embroidered onto them.

  But after lighting fifty more, she
got distracted and played with the small flame in her hand, trailing it up and over and around her fingers, all the while reminding it to not burn her, as Lonan had taught her. The magic minded her words and was only as hot as flicking one’s finger into a candle flame on a dare.

  “Deirdre!” She stopped, looking to see Lonan frowning at her. “Aren’t humans taught to not play with fire?”

  “But I’m not human,” she couldn’t help but answer, grinning. But he kept frowning and she demurred. “All right, I won’t. Though I do feel like I’m doing pretty well with it.”

  “You are, but Fire Magic is so similar to Light Magic, which is the opposite of your primary, Shadow. That means there’s more of a chance of losing control, like earlier.”

  “Okay,” she said, though she did not quite agree with him.

  Night had fallen as they finished. Deirdre stood with a groan, her back aching from hunching over the lanterns. After stretching, she followed Lonan and the lines of tree faeries toward the sound of the running water.

  Even though the sun had gone, it was still warmer in the realm, as if it were September rather than November. She pointed this out to Lonan, asking, “Does the barrier keep things so warm?”

  “That is one reason. The other is all the magic in the realm is constantly responding to the king and queen’s wishes—and they prefer it warm.” He tilted his chin up, thinking. “I believe they lived around the Mediterranean most of their lives, until the past few centuries.”

  Soon they reached an enormous river, wide enough to be a lake. Its surface was black, reflecting the moon above in white and blue. A couple of times, what looked like a school of flying fish breached the surface as they hurried downstream—but they were about the size of children, with webbed hands and glossy black hair and webbed feet, their body and flat gray faces covered in silver scales.

  “Mermaids?” she asked uncertainly. “They don’t have tails though.”

  “Those are water nymphs.” He started when Deirdre suddenly snorted with laugher, then asked, “What is it?”

  “Oh, nothing! It’s just, James had this book, and I think he’d be kind of disappointed…” She snickered, but at the thought of her friend and their fight last night, she quickly sobered and changed the subject.

  Small islands rose out of the water, dotted sparsely with tall pine trees. Connecting all the islands and the shore were dozens of enormous, flat bridges made of smooth marble, with thin arches, scalloped supporting archways, and lacy embellishments.

  Balls of creamy, rust-colored light floated and bobbed above the arches and along the shores of the river, like lanterns alongside roads. They did not interfere with Deirdre’s night vision as she happily gasped and shook Lonan’s shoulder, pointing out the way all the lights reflected on the water. Similarly, the full moon overhead rippled on the river and illuminated everything.

  As the breeze picked up, small bat-like faeries, fluffy with rounded ears and small noses, swooped in and grabbed the lanterns with their clawed feet. They flapped over the river and the bridges, letting the lanterns go one by one, which floated in place when released.

  The lanterns clearly lit the many Noble faeries below, who were congregating, some coming straight up from the river on a fountain of water, some flying in or simply appearing out of light, but most walking or running along the bridges, laughing, chatting, and singing.

  Deirdre pointed again, beaming at her father. “This is amazing.”

  “I am inclined to agree.” Lonan smiled back at her, then looked to the bridges with a sigh. “This is certainly something you would never see at the Winter Court.”

  While the hosts of faeries spread out among the open bridges, the largest group clustered at the center of the river where the thickest bridges intertwined seamlessly and where five large fires blazed. Food was being cooked over those flames while faeries brought fresh food as they came, occasionally using Wind Magic to push away children who tried to pinch a bite. One group who brought piles of honey-sweetened baked goods swept any would-be thieves right into the river with a wave of magic.

  Deirdre cried out in alarm and darted forward, but the faery children immediately reemerged. Some used Water Magic to shoot themselves back onto the bridges, where they used Fire Magic to evaporate the water on them. One gulped in river water and squirted it up at the faery who pushed him off, making her cry in surprise and summon a small wave that sent him rushing down the river.

  “Is this okay? Are they okay?” Deirdre asked, tugging on Lonan’s sleeve and pointing.

  He nodded, gesturing as the child downstream turned the water around him to ice and slid back to the bridge. “This is normal, Deirdre. Furthermore, he asked for it, do you not agree?”

  Shaking her head as they continued along and spotted a few more antics like this unfold, Deirdre eventually whispered, “How could Alvey stand it?”

  Lonan let out a chuckle, eyes warm with memory. “Oh, when she was that age, she loathed playing with children her age. The other children were just starting to become adept with their magic but were not mature enough to know exactly what to do with it. ’Tis a normal phase, but it made Alvey quite provoked when they would play pranks and she would be unable to retaliate.”

  “Did she have any friends?” Deirdre asked, thinking of the girl’s at times insufferable attitude.

  “A few, here and there, as is normal for children.” He considered for a moment, tilting his chin down. “I believe the only faery outside our family she has always been close with is the Summer Prince, Roshan.”

  “The prince? Really?”

  “Aye. He made her that wheelchair.” Her looked at her, narrowing his eyes. “She did not tell you?”

  “I think she didn’t tell me much of anything, to be honest.”

  “She will be here tonight, if you wish to speak with her.”

  “Maybe. I’m worried I may get mad—I do lose my temper—and…” Thinking of her conversation with James last night, her stomach soured. “Nothing I say seems to be right sometimes, even when I think I stay calm. I just…” She shrugged weakly.

  “Then perhaps focus on enjoying yourself tonight.” Suddenly Lonan frowned, looking ahead, tilting his chin. “Though don’t get too carried away.”

  She followed his gaze. Her stomach somersaulted when she saw, illuminated by the many lights that decked the trees like Christmas lights, Iain walking behind Kallista and Cai on one of the first islands.

  Deirdre stepped to race toward them but quickly asked, “Do you mind?”

  He shook his head. “I will likely be occupied this evening. Though if you need me, ask any faery, and I will be there.”

  “Okay!” She quickly dashed toward them, skidding to a halt but still nearly ran smack dab into Iain’s back. “Hey!” She stepped beside him, beaming up at him.

  His whole countenance brightened as he spoke back to her, but she didn’t quite catch anything he said. He probably said something about it being nice seeing her or maybe about how his day was, but she was mesmerized. It was like seeing him with glasses she didn’t know she needed—suddenly so many details, like the slight dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, were more obvious and appealing than they were before.

  But who cares about any of that nonsense? she thought, managing to grin and nod when he asked her a question before he continued his explanation of… something. His hair is getting a bit long, but it looks good. It’s not too long. Has it always been that length? And wow—she watched as he gestured to emphasize his point or maybe show her how big something was—his arms aren’t as skinny as I thought! And there’re a couple of little cuts on his right hand. How long have they been there? And—

  “Deirdre?” Iain stopped gesticulating, looking at her seriously. “Are you all right?”

  She had been staring, gaping, and grinning at him for the past couple of minutes. Oh so subtly, Cai coughed and glanced back at them, a small but knowing smile on his face.

  “I’m fine!” she burst, wav
ing her hands rapidly. “Just, um—hey”—she sniffed the air, thrilled to pick up the scent of cooking meat—“what is that lovely smell?”

  The party began in earnest a few minutes later after Titania and Oberon announced, in their clear and powerful voices that even quieted the river, the reason for the feast—Alvey’s safe return.

  At the mention of Alvey, Titania gestured to where the blond girl sat in her wheelchair, turning pink with the attention, her arms folded tight. By her was James, and Deirdre quickly looked away, feeling sick, not wanting to make eye contact.

  Once the announcements ended, faeries immediately served themselves food or continued chatting. But the rest formed groups for dancing while others played music. Faery dancing was like Irish step dancing mixed with the world’s most intensive reel, mixed with the wide, sweeping arcs of ballroom dancing—with some steps taking place in the air, the faeries gracefully taking flight in organized sequences.

  For a while, Deirdre and the others were entranced, watching. Then she laughed along with the dancing faeries and soon was humming and clapping along with the lively music. Like Cardea’s song two nights ago, it was improvised, and when the tune changed, the dancing did as well. The new step sent the faeries over the waters, the water turning to a trail of ice beneath their feet, and when they leaped back to the bridges, they left behind a large knotwork pattern frozen onto the river, which caught the moonlight and glimmered brilliantly.

  The current song ended, and many of the faeries wandered off to get food or join in games. Only a handful were left, and the music changed to something more sedate. Deirdre recognized it immediately: it was the tune to a folk dance. The remaining dancers arranged themselves to begin it.

  “I know this,” Iain said just as Deirdre asked him, “Do you know this one?” They chuckled, and at the same time asked each other to dance. Laughing, she quickly grabbed his arm before she could stop herself and ran with him to join in.