Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2)

by Missy Sheldrake

  We land with a thud on the floorboards loud enough to wake the village, but it doesn’t wake any of the patrons up. I remember the story Rian told back at the Ring, about his guild. I look around at them. They look unharmed. Sleeping in the middle of a fight scene. Chairs and tables turned over. Plates shattered on the ground. Wine and cider spilled everywhere. It stinks in here, too. Rotten food. Burnt meat. Unwashed people.

  Azi gasps and rushes to one of the sleepers. A woman. She looks like an older version of Azi with the same blond braid. She’s slumped over a bench, her arms draped awkwardly across it like she’s passed out from too much drink.

  “Oh, Mum,” Azi brushes some stray hair away from the woman’s face. Arranges her arms a little more comfortably. Looks up at Rian. “Was this you? You put them all to sleep?”

  “After you passed out,” Rian’s shoulders go up apologetically, “they all started fighting. I didn’t know what else to do.” He starts going on, telling the same story he told us in the Ring. Ki goes to stand by the window and watch out. Mevyn sticks close to me. I want to shove him away.

  While Rian’s talking, I go from one of the sleeping guild members to the next, looking them over. Last time I saw them, they were riding out of Cerion. I stop next to the biggest one. He’s huge. Stone-skinned, with plate armor. He’s out cold, snoring loudly.

  I look at Rian again. He’s not that much older than Raefe. Eighteen, maybe. How does he have so much magic that he can just put all of these people to sleep? I inch away from him and lean against the wall beside the hearth. Close to Ki. I don’t like it. Nobody should be so powerful.

  “No.” Rian whispers as he looks around, suddenly frantic. His hands are in his hair. He rushes across the tavern and drops to his knees before a huge pile of glass shards. “No, no, no.”

  “What is it?” Azi rushes to him. “Rian, what’s happened?”

  “My golem,” he picks up some shards. Closes his eyes. The glass in his hands glows softly. “Something fought it. A man. In Cerion’s livery. They fought, and he smashed it, and then…”

  Azaeli goes to his side. Touches his cheek. He looks up at her. Swallows. She gazes into his eyes the way she did in the castle. Falls into them. A golden tendril creeps across her neck. Peeks up over her collar.

  “Jac,” she describes what she sees quietly. “He woke up somehow. He destroyed the golem. Smashed it. He wanted to kill everyone while they were sleeping. Elliot stopped him. The fox. They fought. The fox wounded him. He wouldn’t let up. He chased him out of here.”

  She tears her eyes away from him. Pushes herself to her feet. Walks across to another snoring man, a much smaller one. His hair is orange and brown. It covers his face with bristly fringe. Dark lines are painted across his cheeks. They look like whiskers. She rests a hand on his arm. Looks at Rian.

  “Can you wake him?” she asks. Rian comes to her side. Shakes his head.

  “I never slept him. He was already out when I cast the spell. It wouldn’t have worked on Da, anyway. Sleep spells don’t work on him.”

  I look from Rian to the man. They have the same nose. The same jaw. The same pointed ears, though Rian’s are a little more rounded.

  “I’m confused,” I say. “He’s a fox and he’s your father, and he chased someone away, but he’s still sleeping, and he’s here, but he isn’t?”

  “That’s about right!” Flitt chirps. She’s nestled into a bowl of cherries. She nibbles one and red juice drips from her chin.

  “Clever one you have there, Mevyn,” she says around a mouthful.

  “Can’t you just wake him up?” I ask. “Nudge him, if it’s not a spell?”

  “I don’t dare,” Rian says. “Not if he’s still after Jac. If they’re fighting and I wake him, it could be bad.”

  Rian looks away from his father to a woman sprawled beside Azi’s mother. She’s older, with bright red hair. Not like Saesa’s. Sharper. Like the blossoms. It’s spiked up in a strange style. Her armor is soft leather. Dark blue. Tight. Her skin is pale and covered with freckles. He stoops to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. Whispers Mage words. She blinks slowly. Sits up. Stretches. Looks around at everyone sleeping.

  “What in the seven…?” her eyes rest on Rian. “Did you do this?”

  Rian gives a little nod. He’s different with her. Younger, somehow.

  “I had to. Azi needed help, and everyone was getting out of hand.”

  She looks around again and shakes her head slowly.

  “Did you get Marked?” she asks with a scolding tone.

  “No, Mum. It’s only Twelfth Circle.” Rian replies. He smirks a little, like he’s amused he knows more than she does. Still, she reaches for him. Tugs down the collar of his robes. Peeks at his chest. I press my lips together. Try not to laugh as he shrugs away from her. Azi doesn’t spare him her amusement. She laughs softly. That’s when the woman notices her.

  “Oh, Azi, we were so worried!” she cries. She hugs her and takes her face into her hands and looks her over.

  “I’m okay, Mya.” Azi pats her arm. Offers a reassuring smile.

  “Mum, something happened,” Rian says. “I was careful. I set wards. I set a guardian, but Jac woke up somehow. He shattered the golem, but Da stopped him.” He goes to Elliot again. Puts his hands on his shoulders. Mya goes to Elliot’s side. Settles on the bench. Strokes his cheek softly. Closes her eyes. Hums a melody that I can see, somehow. She presses her forehead to his. I watch the magic weave between them.

  “Something,” she whispers, “something’s wrong. A darkness. Tangled. Twisted. Something flicking toward us. Trying to tear us apart.”

  “Dreamwalker,” I say. If Mya hears me, she doesn’t react.

  “Is he in danger?” Azi asks. “Should we wake him?”

  “He’s distracting it,” Mya puts a little distance between herself and Elliot. “Luring it away. Keeping it occupied. Like a hunt. He’s clever,” she smiles to himself, “we don’t need to worry about him. Not yet.”

  There’s a long stretch of silence while everyone thinks that over. Ki is the first to break it.

  “People are walking past like they don’t even see this place,” she says quietly from her post at the window.

  “That’ll be the wards,” Rian explains to her. “I set a Look-Away, along with several others. I’ll take them off once I wake everyone.”

  Mya looks from Rian to the window. “Who are you talking to?” she asks.

  “Oh, right. They’re still…” Rian looks at Ki, then me. Mevyn sinks behind me and I scowl. Flitt’s bowl of berries is right in front of her on the table, but Mya doesn’t seem to notice her, either. “Do you want to come out, or?”

  “They probably should,” says Azi. “It’d make it easier.”

  “I don’t mind,” says Ki. She looks at me. I shrug.

  “I guess.”

  “Mmnope!” Flit says around a mouthful.

  “Nor I,” says Mevyn.

  “Course not,” I mutter.

  “Tib can speak for me,” Mevyn sinks lower. I glare over my shoulder at him.

  “We brought some friends,” Rian explains to Mya. “This is Ki.” He casts a spell to reveal her. Mya’s eyes widen. She looks from Ki to Rian in disbelief. “And that’s Tib.” He says the spell again, sweeping a hand in my direction. The air shifts around me.

  “Where?” Mya looks at the hearth and squints.

  “The Revealer won’t work on the Dreamstalker,” Mevyn chuckles. “Tib, just step out.”

  “Step out?” I scowl at him. “What’s that mean?”

  “Just imagine stepping out of hiding so they can see you. Then take a step,” Mevyn explains.

  I wrinkle my nose and look at the rest of them. Mya’s still staring over the top of my head at the wall, trying to see me. Beside her Rian and Azi are whispering together, looking impressed and a little concerned. I shrug my shoulders, think about showing myself, and take a step like Mevyn says. The change around me is subtle, like walking through a
spider’s web. It works, though. Mya sees me.

  “Oh, there,” she offers me a smile. “Were you there the whole time? I had no idea.”

  “That’s the point,” Mevyn mutters dryly at my shoulder.

  “Yes m’lady,” I reply, ignoring Mevyn. I want to bat at him. Grab his little golden wings and send him flying right into her face so he can’t hide behind me anymore.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you…both.” The hesitation in her voice when she turns to Ki tells me everything. She knew my sister before. When she was Viala. Still, she smiles. A real smile, not a put-on. Then she turns to Rian again.

  “What exactly is going on?” she asks him. “Wait. Perhaps we should wake the others before we get into explanations. To save time.”

  “Perhaps not,” Mevyn says. “The truth is not meant for a broad audience.”

  Rian and Azi exchange glances.

  “Mum, there are others here, too,” Rian says. “Others who need to be protected. They need our help, but they don’t want to show themselves. They can’t risk being seen or saying too much in front of too many.” He watches her closely. Mya shakes her head. Her smile is full of mirth as it dawns on her who he must be talking about.

  “Them again? I ought to have known they’d enlist you both in some new quest. You understand though, Rian, that our fealty is to Cerion and its King? Peace in our kingdom is our duty. You aren’t losing sight of that, are you? You haven’t forgotten your reason for traveling there in the first place, have you?” She nods pointedly at my sister, who is still watching out the window.

  “This is a common enemy,” Azi says calmly. “He was involved with those who breeched the border of Kythshire. He’s meddled with each of our minds. It’s why we’ve all been so on edge. He’s even tampered with the princess’s baby. He’s shown an interest in Prince Vorance and Princess Sarabel, as well. He’s even stolen from Princess Margary. I fear his interest in the throne. There’s something about the Plethores that fascinates him.”

  Mya sighs. Pinches the bridge of her nose. Looks at her husband, then her son.

  “Very well,” she says. “But the Elite works together. Whatever you tell me, it’s their right to know it as well. We’ve sworn oaths to each other. In times like these, we do not keep secrets from each other. If you seek our aid, then you’ll have all of us or none of us.”

  Rian looks at me. I’m not sure why at first, but then I realize Mevyn has drooped behind my shoulder again. I shift a little so the Mage can see him. To my surprise, he drifts toward Flitt a little. Looks at her.

  “What would you do?” he asks. “Would you trust them? All of them?”

  Flitt looks at Mevyn, wide-eyed. She opens her mouth to say something, but a crash from outside interrupts her. It’s followed by screaming. Panic. People running. More crashing. Doors slamming.

  At the window, Ki raises her bow. Her face is pale. Her lips pressed into a thin line. Outside, thunder rumbles. The sky is dark as night. She turns to us. Her necklace flashes blue.

  “Something’s coming,” she whispers.

  “What?” Mya rushes to the window. Looks out. “What is that?” She spins to Rian.

  “Wake them up,” she orders urgently. “Now. The guild. Quickly.” She runs past him and grabs her mandolin. Turns to me. “Stay out of sight,” she says, “unless you know how to use those.” She points to my knives and then rushes the door as the rest of her company stumbles to their feet. She doesn’t go out though. Instead she starts to play on her mandolin.

  Her song is quick and encouraging. Like stepping out of the Half-Realm, I let the magic of it affect me. It makes me feel brave and strong, like I can succeed in anything. Like nothing can stop me. I watch Rian wake the others, calling them each by name. Bryse, the big one. Cort, the dark-skinned fighter. Lisabella, Azi’s mother. Benen, her father. Donal and Dacva, the healers. Everyone except for Elliot.

  The members of the Elite seem to recognize what the song means. They don’t hesitate or question. They draw their weapons. Prepare for battle. I watch Flitt zoom to Azi. Tuck herself into her collar as the knight pulls her helm on. Behind me, Mevyn clings to my bandolier.

  “Stay here,” he says to my mind, but his words hold no power anymore. Just for the sake of defying him, I charge the door behind the others. Out of the tavern. Into the street, where the dark clouds drop sheets of drenching, freezing rain over us all. Mevyn doesn’t follow. I didn’t expect him to.

  At first it’s confusing. People everywhere. Chaos. Rain. Screaming. Darkness. Thunder. The ring of steel on stone and wood. Cries of pain. I can’t see. The rain is in my eyes. Something skitters toward me. Something small. Fierce. Teeth. Claws. I draw my knife. Slash at it. Feel the blood wash over my hands as its life drains away. I wipe my eyes. Try to see what it is, but another one is on me. It bites my bracer and I shake it free and kick it away.

  There’s a flash of light. A sizzle. A hiss. An explosion of magic so powerful that everything around me is thrown back. I can’t hear anything, not even the rain. That’s because the rain has stopped. I wipe my eyes again and peer up at the sky. Not stopped, shielded. Beside me, Rian lowers his hands. Narrows his eyes. The barrier is just big enough to fit us all. Just tall enough to cover Bryse’s head. We huddle together inside of its protection, all ready with our weapons.

  Without the rain to blind me, I can make out our attackers now. Dozens of them. Bears. Wolves. Field lions. Foxes. Mixed in with them are strange creatures, small and knobby. Some look like the Wildwood, with spindly legs and mushrooms and grasses sprouting from their backs. Others are uglier. Dog-like men, with patches of shaggy fur and snouts that drip with mucus. All of them pace outside of the barrier, snarling and snapping and watching and growling.

  The animals try to charge us and bounce off of the magic. The dog men throw spears and shoot arrows that can’t penetrate the field. Bryse guards Cort and Donal behind his shield, which is the size of a large door. Benen stands with his back to the giant, his own shield up, his hammer ready. Azi stands beside him, and on his other side Lisabella mirrors her daughter, holding a long sword ready.

  “What in blazes? What a way to wake up!” Bryse booms. “What’s all this?”

  “Sorcery,” Rian calls from beside me. “Look for the source.” He squints past the shield, past the chaos of animals snarling and snapping at it.

  “Sorcery? Not again,” Cort groans.

  “And Necromancy, from the looks of it,” Benen points into the distance. Skeletons, marching toward us. They grin widely. Remind me of the fallen fairies at the roots.

  “I hate those things,” Bryse grumbles over his shoulder.

  Something else is there, past them. Dark and powerful. Not the Dreamwalker. Something just as strong, though. Just as ruthless. I stare into the space where I can feel it until I see it. Him. A man in a dark robe with a hood that covers his face.

  “There!” I point, and he moves away. Toward a house. His gesture rips the door from its hinges. I tug Rian’s sleeve. Point again.

  “I see it,” he says. “I see him.”

  The others turn. Watch as the Sorcerer beckons. From the darkness of the doorway, three figures emerge. A woman, a man, and a child. Commoners. They’re weeping. Begging. Walking with stilted motion. Like Nan. Like Zhilee and me, when he came to take us. I pull a knife from my bandolier. Coat it with blue. Don’t care what’s blocking me from him. Don’t care about the creatures in my way. What he’s doing is despicable. Horrible. Unforgivable.

  Nobody tries to stop me. I charge. The wild animals tear at my arms and legs. Pain shoots through my wrists, sears into my legs where they bite me. I don’t let it stop me. I barely feel it. All I see is the Sorcerer. The innocents. I scream. Not in fear, in rage. It works. I have his attention.

  He turns to me. Spreads out his fingers. Casts a spell. It breaks apart around me. Fails. I laugh. Skid. Throw my knife. Watch it plunge into his robes. Watch the flames take hold. Watch his face fall. He grasps the ha
ndle. Pulls it out. Laughs at me. The flames die. They barely touched him. Just singed his robes a little.

  Behind me everything is chaos again. My charge broke Rian’s ward. The Elite are swarmed by skeletons and forest animals and dog-men. The Sorcerer thrusts his hand out again. His spell shoots toward me in a spray of red and yellow sparks. It fizzles as it reaches me. Breaks apart again. My immunity to his power makes me giddy. I laugh in his face.

  “The orange. Quickly!”

  I sneer at Mevyn’s voice in my head. Take another knife. Fumble with an orange vial. The commoners stalk toward me. The man, the commoner, grabs my throat. Closes off my air. I can’t breathe. I coat the blade, or hope I do. I can’t look down to see. Can’t breathe. I hope this works. My vision is going black. I know where the Sorcerer is, the one who’s controlling them. I aim. I throw. I pray that it meets its mark and doesn’t hit an innocent.

  A sizzle. A spark. A flame. A horrible scream. The commoner’s hands loosen. He falls on me, pressing me into the ground, into the mud. He’s heavy. Crushing. Lifeless. No, still breathing. I try to push him off, but his wife has fallen on me too. They hold me to the ground. Press me into the mud like the roots, like the trees. I will myself to take slow breaths. Not to panic. Someone will see me. Someone will help me.

  The sorcerer lies nearby, ash and flame. I did that. My knife. My shot. All around us, the animals scamper away. Freed from their spell, free to hide now that their master is defeated. There’s still fighting, though. Skeletons and dog-men and Wildwoods. They’re all too busy fighting them. They don’t know I need help.

  I try again to shove the man off of me. I fight to breathe. I can’t, though. He’s too heavy. Too heavy, and nobody sees. Nobody knows. I try to keep my eyes open, but I can’t. I have no air. No breath. The darkness takes me. I black out.

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Fairy Embers

  Tib

  “Tib, get up.” Weight is lifted. Rolled away. Someone shakes my shoulder. Rough. Frantic. “Tib, hurry!”

  I can’t move. The breath has been squeezed out of me. I’m dragged away. My throat burns. Rain drenches me. Mud seeps into my pants, my boots. I gasp for air. Cough.