First was Peter’s slip. Peter had always been careful. Even in front of his father, he’d worked hard to be expressive and yet maintain control. With Katy, that control had often been let down, but Peter’s anxiety attack while the waterfall flowed through his memories had been obvious. For one long moment, he’d forgotten to stay in control. Fear had ruled him, and he had panicked until the waterfall stopped.
What was it that he so desperately wanted to hide from her?
Second, she was confused by the waterfall’s response to her presence. It had seemed so relaxed when they’d entered the thicket, and the magic Katy felt coursing through the water and the mist around them hadn’t seemed malevolent in the slightest. Cheerful, yes, and mischievous perhaps, but there had been nothing dark that she could feel. But as soon as the waterfall recognized her, which in itself was somewhat confusing, it ordered Katy away. For what purpose, though? To protect her from the forest? Or to protect the forest from her? She obviously knew what Katy was. Did she know all that Katy was capable of? Of the darkness that stirred inside her even now as she pressed her hands against her gown in an effort to keep them from shaking?
Equally disturbing was the speed at which she was becoming consumed by thoughts of Peter. Such imaginings of them together were perfectly normal for a girl of thirteen. But after she found out his true heritage, or rather...after learning of Saraid’s impressive heritage, Katy had known better than to hope for anything more than what they’d once had. Her head understood this, particularly as the gap between them had infinitely widened upon learning his title. For no farmer in his right mind would take a possible olc for a wife, let alone the prince.
And yet, whenever he touched her, or even looked at her for that matter, the world shrank, and all she could see was him, despite whatever he was hiding. His insistence on spending time together, like their ride the day before, only made it worse. For it was quite clear that he loved her as much as he ever had. But sibling affection was no longer enough. Not for Katy, at least.
Katy didn’t have long to mull on her troubles, however, for a knock on the door jarred her from her repose.
“Yes?” She brushed the crumbs off her lap and moved back through the white linen curtains, glad she’d dressed before eating. She prayed it wasn’t Saraid. She was rather sure she couldn’t face the young woman again and retain her dignity. Not now when confusion reigned in her head and her ridiculous hope for Peter muddled her heart. In fact, Saraid was the reason Katy had stayed in her room for the remainder of the day after returning from her outing with Peter. She hadn’t even ventured out for supper.
“M’name’s Agnes, miss! Lady Muirin’s sent me.”
Katy paused at the door. Lady Muirin. Where had she heard that name before? “Lady Muirin?”
“Yes.” The woman paused. “Prince Peter’s cousin?”
“Oh!” Katy opened the door and gave a sigh of relief when she found a plump little woman standing before her. The woman held a large basket in her right arm and a plume and ink bottle in her left. “I am sorry.” She gestured for the woman to come inside. “I haven’t had the chance to meet her ladyship just yet.”
“Aye, and she’s been most disappointed about that since ye arrived. But now that she’s with child and all, the poor girl’s been sick somethin’ bad for weeks now.” The little woman began to bustle around, plopping her basket on the end of the bed and spreading its contents all about the blankets as though it were her room.
Not that Katy minded. She closed the doors and came up behind the woman and studied the assortment of objects now covering her bedspread. Squares of colorful fabrics, scraps of ribbon and lace, pins, needles, thread, and one very long piece of string. The woman lifted the quill and stuck it behind her ear before putting on her spectacles and turning to study Katy. When she did, she frowned.
“Is that one of the gowns Lady Saraid fixed for you?”
Katy looked down at the neat brown dress. It certainly wasn’t as fancy as any of Saraid’s gowns, but it had pretty pink lacing at the bottom and shiny buttons. “Yes,” Katy said. “Is there something amiss?”
Rather than answering, however, Agnes scurried over to Katy’s wardrobe and threw it open. As soon as she did, she shook her head and made tsk tsk sounds to herself. “Leave it to Lady High’n Mighty to commission the most common gowns in the castle.”
“Really,” Katy said, taking a step closer to the woman. “I really am quite grateful. I never had anything so nice at home.”
Agnes shut the wardrobe doors with a bang and returned to her basket. “Should’ve known this would happen. I warned my ladyship, but she was too sick for me to be anywhere else.”
“Um...pardon?” Katy asked.
Agnes turned to look at Katy, her dark eyes bright. “What? Oh, apologies, miss. Talkin’ to m’self again. I only meant that Lady Muirin had wanted to attend to your wardrobe herself, but she hasn’t been able to more than stir from bed for two weeks now.”
“That really is kind of her, but I truly am quite content with what I’ve been given.” She paused as Agnes grabbed the piece of string and inspected it. “Is that all you were here to inquire about?”
“Oh, isles no!” Agnes grabbed Katy’s arms and stretched them out to her sides. She held the string up to her arms and shoulders several times before turning and scribbling on a piece of parchment. Then she went back to measuring. “This is for the ball.”
“The coronation ball?”
Agnes nodded, the quill in her mouth while she stretched the string around Katy’s waist. Then she took the quill out and looked at Katy expectantly. “Lady Muirin is not about to allow that little...” she glanced at the door and lowered her voice, “lady to have the prince all to herself without a fight.”
Katy blinked at her several times. “I take it her ladyship does not approve of Lady Saraid?” Some part of her, though she wasn’t sure if she ought to feel guilty about it, breathed a sigh of relief. Was there someone else in the entire castle who didn’t think Saraid was perfect in every way?
“One can’t say much here without it being repeated, so keep your ears sharp and your tongue tied. But in answer to your question, no, Lady Muirin does not always see eye-to-eye with the younger lady. In fact,” she grumbled as she began holding the squares of fabric up to Katy’s skin, “I don’t recall the last time they did see anything the same way.”
“But I’m not sure where I come in.” Katy stretched to the side as Agnes instructed her. “Isn’t Lady Saraid already his betrothed?”
“Not officially until he announces it. But aye, she’s the favored one. She’s seen to that over the years.” Agnes paused and squinted at the three fabric pieces in her hand, leaning so close that Katy could see the white in her dark hair. Then she glanced up at Katy. “No. Too light. You need something bold with hair dark as you have.” She turned around and grabbed a ribbon and held it up. “There! That’ll do.” She turned and began throwing all of her supplies back in the basket. “I’ll be back soon with a gown what will put all of these to shame. And hopefully,” she gave Katy a mischievous wink, “Lady Saraid’s as well.” She walked to the door, basket in hand, but turned before opening it. “You watch that one now. And I mean it. The lass is lovely as a dove but shrewd as a cat. She’ll have her way with you before you even realize she’s no longer smiling your direction.”
Unable to sit and fret any longer, Katy gathered her courage and left her room for the first time since returning the day before. She stopped only once to ask a servant how to reach the annals.
She might have promised Peter the chance to save her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help.
The annals weren’t particularly large, the size of two of her chambers put together, but the number of books that had been squeezed into the space was more than impressive. Katy felt her breath escape as the door closed behind her. Sir Christopher had kept about a dozen books at his house, including the one she had absconded with after Peter had gone. To her knowledge, most citi
zens of Downing rarely saw more than one or two books in their lives, and the vast majority couldn’t read. Firin Reaghan had kept fifteen.
But here, the walls were covered in six rows of shelves, and on each shelf were books that stood upright, squeezed in so tightly they looked as though they might be difficult to get out. Leather of all colors and sizes made the shelves look somewhat akin to a rainbow, and Katy couldn’t help but smile. A rainbow of knowledge. She had never imagined something so wonderful could even exist.
“May I help you?”
Katy gave a start and turned to see a man with a long gray robe walking toward her. His thick beard was gray, as was his hair, and what she could see of his mouth was turned down in a pinched grimace.
“I...I’m looking for books on olcs. Or magic of any kind.”
He frowned even more deeply, his thick eyebrows seeming to touch in the middle. “You’ll not find much of that here. If it ever existed, such texts would have been burned centuries ago in the Purge.”
“The Purge?”
“After the war with the olcs, the crown destroyed every sign of the olcs’ existence from the kingdom...including the books and scrolls.”
“Oh.” Katy tried to recall Sir Christopher’s history lessons, the ones she’d listened in on as he’d taught Peter at the kitchen table every day, but she couldn’t remember him ever talking about a purge. Or a war with the olcs. Or anything about olcs, now that she thought about it.
“What about books or scrolls concerning the olcs as the enemy?”
He pursed his lips but turned and gestured for her to follow him. They moved past several shelves of books before he bent down to a lower shelf and began to gather books. It was then that Katy realized these particular books weren’t covered in dust the way many of the others around it were.
Someone else had recently been interested in these books as well. A shiver went up Katy’s spine.
The man handed four books to Katy with the enthusiasm of a lizard. “There is a table and chairs over there.” He pointed over by the balcony, which Katy realized took up the entire fourth wall. “When you are finished, leave them on the table. Don’t try to put them away yourself.” Then he walked away.
Katy took the books to the table and studied them. Their leather covers were worn and faded with age, and the pages looked quite yellowed, particularly at the corners. The Way of Darkness read one. The others were titled Fighting the Olc, Magic and How to Cast It Out, and Finding Creatures of Magic.
It was a moment before Katy could get herself to even open one. There is no way to prove that I am an olc. No one knows what I am, after all. I am only reading. They’re only books. Well, the waterfall seemed to know. But she hadn’t called Katy an olc.
Tentatively, Katy opened the least threatening of them all, Finding Creatures of Magic. The brittle pages crinkled loudly as she turned each page, but soon she was so engrossed in the words and drawings that she hardly heard it at all.
How had there once been so many creatures of magic? Not just olcs, but creatures of all shapes and sizes with abilities as varied as flowers had colors. Little flower spirits that flew away before the rain and hid in the crevices and nooks of trees. Marsh beings that released gases that put unsuspecting neighbors to sleep before pulling them gently beneath the water to their deaths. Sheets of mist that could reflect the face of one’s true love when looked into. Screaming Blood Gnats, Men of the Moor, Rainbow Stones, Singing Moon Dewnots—there were too many to even remember them all.
The more she read, the more Katy felt her heart begin to sink. So many beings had once lived on their isle. So many that had been different, like her. And though she had no desire to meet or bring back certain creatures, such as the Screaming Blood Gnats or the dangerous, seductive Men of the Moor, she couldn’t help but wonder how many friends she might have had over the years had there been others like her. Others who were different. Or perhaps, if it weren’t so unusual to be different, the humans might have accepted her more readily.
Regardless of the varieties of other species, however, Katy finally came to the page she had been dreading and searching for the entire time. As she opened the page to the olcs, however, several pieces of parchment fell out, far newer and whiter than the pages on which the tiny script was written. When she bent to pick up the papers from the floor, she realized that the scribbles squished onto the slips were written in a familiar hand.
Peter. Her heart fell. As much as he claimed he didn’t know what she was, he must have had enough suspicion to search the annals for information about olcs as well. She glanced at the other books. It would explain why their dust had been disturbed so recently.
Her throat felt tight as she turned back to the book and began to read.
Long ago, a species of dark origin came to live beside humans. They were rumored to have begun when lightning struck a Rainbow Stone, but their origins are not truly known. What is known is that this race is one of cunning, power, and vengeance. Any perceived threat is dealt with using magic of the deepest kind. A woman might be gathering roots and berries in the forest and stumble upon an olc’s home quite by accident, as their homes are nothing more than crude holes found in hollow trees or similar settings, and no sooner might she glance at the olc than the olc would use a hewn stick to alter the human’s form from woman to serpent or toad or whatever pleases its vile mind. If the olc is particularly spiteful, he might place the altered woman on her family’s step so that one of them might discover and kill her as they would any other wild beast.
Katy shook her head and turned the page. So far, that sounded nothing like she had ever even thought to do, though once, she remembered, she had asked Atharo if Bearnard might be turned into a rabbit after he’d killed one by bashing it on the head with a club. So she read on.
Olcs can be difficult to recognize at an early age. Their eyes will shine metallic when they are about to expend any sort of power, but upon first glance, they appear just as any human youth might. As the olc grows closer to the age of twenty-one years, however, he begins to loose power upon the world around him. Though his true extent of power will not be seen until his twenty-first birthday, he will begin to lose control over his abilities the older he gets. Though olcs have different forms of power, these bursts of magic can injure everyone and everything around them.
Katy held up her hands and examined them. Though she had let out most of her power yesterday at the stream before heading back to the castle, even now she could feel her fingers humming with energy unspent. She placed a single hand to her face. It was hot, as though she’d reached into a kettle of boiling water. Taking a deep breath, she turned the page and went on.
When the olc reaches the age of twenty-one years, his manifestation takes place at midnight of his birth date. Manifestation marks the coming-of-age in which the olc gains full control of his power, whatever that may be, but it comes at a high cost to any living thing around it. The olc’s power moves out from his body as it becomes his, and the world around the olc is destroyed. Men, women, children, and animals are slain in a single wave. Nothing escapes the ring of death from the olc as it changes. Even grasses and trees are laid to waste. When it is all over, the olc has full reign of its power, and the world around it. Everything that is not olc in species, is dead. From there, the olc is free to return to the living once again and wreak its havoc. And when they couple and reproduce, they begin the deadly cycle once more.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Katy jerked up in her seat to find Saraid standing several feet away. She struggled to find her voice. “Oh?”
“I thought you deserved to know that I’m not unaware of the sway you have over him...nor the sway he has over you.”
Katy could only sit there, gaping like a fish, but that didn’t seem to bother Saraid.
“And I understand. The way I spoke the other night was rash, and I regret it, if for no other reason than it is not my place to rebuke in public. But I will say that my opin
ion of you and your effects on the kingdom have not changed.” She took a step closer. “I also know that Peter’s emotional attachment to his father and all that his father held dear often blinds him to what he truly needs. And as the woman he has chosen to marry, it is my duty to both him and the kingdom to preserve him from anything that might bring him harm or stand in the way of his success.”
Katy still felt fear, but annoyance quickly began to grow alongside her discomfort. “He is a grown man, is he not? Perfectly capable of making his own decisions.”
“That is precisely my point. He is a man, and a good-hearted one at that. He is both intelligent and capable, but he’s just as likely to fall for a pretty face or sad story as any other man. You have both. You also, of course, had the love of his father.”
“I would never hurt—”
“I believe you have good intentions.” Saraid came to stand close enough that Katy could smell her perfume. “If you truly care about him, and I know you do, then you will do what’s best for him and leave him to me. Stop filling his head with ideas of saving you, whatever that means. In fact, you would do best to flee and never look back. Don’t bring him down with you, for while I do not know your path, I know it will not be a bright one.”
Katy hid her hands in the folds of her dress so Saraid couldn’t see them shaking. The last thing she needed right now was to have another accident. Saraid’s dog was one thing, but making Saraid bald would cause an uproar like no other. “And if I don’t?” Katy asked, praying her voice wasn’t shaking too much.
“Then you will force my hand, and I will have to take action to make sure you do as you should.” Saraid spun around and began to walk back to the door, her stiff burgundy dress swishing as she walked with that perfect confidence Katy envied so much. “Pray to that god of yours if you must,” she called, pausing at the door. “Just make sure your decision is a wise one.”
The Autumn Fairy Page 17
