Wow, what a gentleman. “Of course not. I’d be waiting a long time for that.” I put a hand out and lean against the nearest tree. “No, I’m waiting to see how you plan to get over that magically reinforced wall.” I can’t help it; I’m curious.
“Well, how about I surprise you with my generosity—” he throws the bottle he just used in my direction “—and then stun you with my wall-conquering skills.”
I catch the bottle and throw it right back. “Thanks, but I have my own potions.”
Ryn shrugs. “Whatever.” He packs away his things and stands. “Thanks for the fight, V. You’re welcome to leave now.”
Thanks for the fight, V. At the sound of my old nickname, something tightens painfully in the core of my being. I used to hear it all the time, but then Reed died, and Ryn stopped talking to me, which means the last person who called me V was . . . my father.
Ryn frowns and opens his mouth, then hesitates, as though thinking twice about whatever it is he plans to say. “Um . . . I’m just going to open a doorway to the faerie paths and exit somewhere on the other side of this wall. I don’t see why that shouldn’t work.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak in the wake of the unexpected memories of my father. Ryn turns to face the wall and pulls his stylus from a pocket on the side of his bag.
“Ryn?” I call before he can open a doorway. I wait for him to look back at me. Even in the weak light of the moon, I can make out the intense blue of his eyes. “Do you still blame me?” His eyes slip away from mine and focus somewhere in the distance. He doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. Of course he still blames me. One fight plus one near-civil conversation doesn’t equal a changed mind. “It was an accident, Ryn.” Why can’t he get past this?
“An accident that never would have happened if it weren’t for you,” he says quietly. “You were the one he was going to visit.”
“That is ridiculous logic. My father died when he was on assignment, so should I blame the Guild for his death?” Again, Ryn doesn’t answer. “Or perhaps I should blame his best friend and partner who left the Guild and wasn’t there to protect him.”
Ryn’s eyes narrow. “You can’t blame my father for your father’s death.”
“And you can’t blame me for your brother’s.” I try to match his glare, but I’ve reached the point where I’m just too tired. I shake my head, breaking eye contact. “Go. Find your sister. Maybe I’ll see you in the Fish Bowl before we graduate.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Three seconds after Ryn’s doorway closes behind him, an alarm goes off. It’s a horrible screeching wail loud enough to cause a physical pain in my ears. It rises and falls like a siren, and every time it subsides, I can hear shouts and the sounds of a struggle. I close my eyes. Fantastic. Now I have to rescue Ryn.
I scribble on the tree trunk beside me and step into the opening space, trying to picture the other side of the wall. The blackness dissolves, and I step out amidst the trees, searching immediately for the source of the wailing siren. Not too far away, I see Ryn and three uniformed men. Two are holding onto him, while the third raises his hands and releases a pulse of magic. Ryn doubles over with a cry of pain as the force hits him. I raise my arms and send a mental call to my bow and arrow. I aim and let loose. One, two, three. The men are down before any of them have time to realize what’s happening.
I cast the bow aside and run toward Ryn, who’s now kneeling beside the three fallen guards. I grab his arm just as one of the guards pushes himself up and lunges for me. I kick him in the chest, then point at another guard who’s reaching for my ankle. I release a stream of fire. With a yelp of pain, the guard rolls away from me.
I crouch down, write a doorway into the ground, and pull Ryn in after me. Moments later, we land in my sitting room. My ears ring in the silence that greets us. “Well, that was remarkably easy.” I slide my stylus back into my boot. “Whoever owns that place needs to find better guards.”
Ryn lies on the floor for a while, breathing deeply as he recovers from the pulse of magic. “Why’d you . . . bring me back?” he asks. “I could have . . . handled them.”
“Right.” I’m not even going to bother responding to that. “So you’ve found where they’re keeping your sister, you’ve discovered one way you can’t get onto the property, and I’m really tired and would like to go to bed.”
“You’re tired?” Ryn gets to his feet. “You’ve been asleep for the past two days.”
“Yes. And now it’s some ridiculously early hour of the morning, and I feel I’d like to sleep a bit more.”
Ryn shakes his head. “And you call yourself a guardian.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’m still a trainee.”
“Well, thanks to you, little trainee, I now have to find another way over that wall. I hope you sleep well tonight.” And with that he turns and lets himself out across from where we’re standing. I stare at the bare piece of wall for a while after it seals up.
Alone again.
No one to distract me.
I take a few steps back and sit down on the low table. I put my head in my hands. The tears come easily, as though the barrier holding them back was a flimsy one.
Nate. Nate, Nate, Nate.
What is he doing right now? Where is he? Is he thinking of me? Or is he sleeping peacefully, not feeling a shred of guilt over having betrayed me? Slowly, barely able to see through my tears, I clomp upstairs to my bedroom. My boots untie themselves and I pull them off. I climb into bed without bothering to change my clothes and fall asleep thinking of Nate.
*
In my dream I’m climbing a tree. I know that I’m really high up, and I know I’m not alone. I search the branches above me and, through the twilight, I spot a boy. Ten or eleven years old, black and blue hair, and eyes that glitter like the ocean on a summer’s day. I try to keep up with him, but there’s a bag on my back that weighs me down. “Wait, Reed, I can’t climb that fast.”
He stops and looks down at me. “You want to pass your bag up? I don’t mind carrying two.”
“No, I’m just saying go slower, that’s all.”
“Just give him the bag, silly,” says Ryn from somewhere below me. “You’re holding us both up.” I feel a tug, and then the weight of the bag disappears. A moment later it sails through the air past my head and Reed catches it. With a wink, he turns back to the branch above him.
When we reach the hollow created by the topmost branches of the ancient gargan tree, Reed puts a blanket down. “You brought the snacks, right?” he says to Ryn.
“Of course. You think I’m going to climb all the way up here and not have anything to eat at the end of it?”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure that’s what happened last time,” I say, then squeal as he retaliates by tickling me.
“Hey, come on, you’re squashing the food,” says Reed. He pulls the bag off Ryn’s back. “It’ll be cool when we’re old enough to use the faerie paths. It’ll take a whole lot less time to get up here.”
“Will you still want to come here when you’re old enough to use the paths?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m sure I will.” He grins, and the smile I return is immediate. I’m always smiling around Reed. There’s just something about him.
“I think I know how to use the faerie paths,” says Ryn, lying down and putting a hand behind his head. “I’ve been paying attention when mom and dad take us through. I bet if we got hold of a stylus we could do it.”
“Yeah, but your mom would kill us if she found out.” I unwrap a rainbow lollipop and stick it in my mouth.
“She’d also kill us if she knew we were climbing this tree at night.”
“Or any time of the day,” adds Reed. I realize he’s tapping his knuckles against the wood at the edge of the blanket.
I wait for my lollipop to cycle through a full rainbow of flavors before removing it from my mouth. “Why are you doing that?” I ask Reed.
“I’m testing to see if it’s hollow
. What do you think, V?” He knocks louder.
I open my eyes.
I roll over, trying to hold onto the rapidly dispersing fragments of the dream. I was happy there, and though I can’t remember why, I know I’m not happy here. What happened? It was something to do with . . .
Nate.
I groan and pull the cover over my head, but the knocking doesn’t stop. “Fine,” I shout. I throw the cover back and stare at the enchanted skylight in the ceiling above my head. There’s far too much light coming through it. And it’s not the weekend yet, which means . . . Crap, I’m late for training. And there’s still some idiot banging on my door.
I stomp downstairs, not bothering to give a damn about my appearance. I swipe my hand across the wall and stand in the doorway with my hands on my hips.
“Finally,” says Ryn. He pushes past me before I can say a word.
“Oh, sure,” I mutter. “Feel free to walk right in.” I let the doorway seal up and head to the kitchen. “What do you want now? Another location check-up of your sister?”
“Yes, among other things.” He sits down at the kitchen table while I find a few pieces of fruit, throw them into a glass, and tell them to blend themselves. “I did some poking around after I left here. Turns out that mansion belongs to—wait for it—the youngest son of the Unseelie Queen.”
I sit down across from him. “Wow. I wouldn’t have guessed that. Why does he have a human home? And how exactly did you find this out?”
Ryn shrugs. “I have friends in low places.”
“I’m sure you do.” I stop the mini whirlpool currently happening in my glass and take a sip of the smoothie. “So you haven’t slept since you left here?”
“No. Anyway, I found out something else. Something perfect. There’s a big celebration happening there this weekend—it’s his first century birthday or something—and it starts tonight with a masquerade ball.”
“Right. And that’s perfect how exactly?”
Ryn leans forward. “How easy would it be to hijack one of the guests and take their place? And it’s a masquerade, which means masks. I could keep my face concealed the entire time.”
“Great plan. But I still don’t see why you’re sitting in my kitchen telling me about it.”
“Uh, yeah.” He looks down at his lap. “So . . . it sounds to me like this is the kind of thing where you take a partner. I’d be highly conspicuous if I arrived alone.”
I close my eyes and let out a long sigh, because I can see exactly where this is going. “You want me to go with you.”
“Yes. Some of the guests are human, so it should be easy to enchant them into a sleep or something before they arrive. Then we can take their invitation and their masks, and their driver can deliver us right to the front door. Hopefully whoever’s checking the invitations doesn’t know what everyone looks like, but we can put the masks on just to be safe. Then once we’re inside we just have to find Calla and sneak her out.” He pauses. “You look terrible, by the way. I hope you can fix that before tonight.”
I cross my arms. “What a charmer you are. I can see why all the girls like to hang around you.”
“Actually, I’d prefer it if they didn’t.”
“And why is that exactly?”
“Life’s just easier that way. So are you going to help me or not?”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You certainly know how to present an offer in the least attractive way possible.”
He purses his lips, considering me for a moment. Then he says, “I saved your life, remember?”
“Okay, fine. I’ll help you save your sister. And then we’re square, right?”
“Right.”
I push away from the table and stand up. “So this thing is only tonight, which means I can still get some training in today.”
“No, it means you have the rest of the day to cast yourself a ball gown.”
A ball gown. Fan-freaking-tastic.
*
I can’t do it. I can’t make a ball gown. It was hard enough changing the color of my dress and underwear for my date with Nate, but now I’m supposed to take a piece of fabric and transform it into an entire gown? Not happening.
So while Ryn spends his day at home catching up on sleep, I spend mine alternating between wrestling with the stupid piece of fabric and lying on my bed flipping through my mom’s old poetry books. I’m hoping the words of the ancient poets will distract me from my current top three Life Problems: One, I suck at something. Two, my ex-boyfriend recently broke my heart. Three, I’ll be risking my life later to help out the person I dislike most in the entire world. I do quite well with number one and three, but, considering many of the poems are about love, I can’t quite get rid of number two.
When the sun’s rays finally disappear from my skylight and I hear a knock downstairs, I’m on my fifth or sixth attempt at clothes casting. My ‘ball gown’ currently resembles a strangled bath robe that had a fight with a pair of scissors and then got over-friendly with an ostrich. At least, I think those are feathers. I’m not quite sure since I certainly didn’t plan for them to be there.
I stand on the staircase and open up for Ryn, then run back into my room and stuff the dress under my bed. I twist a piece of hair around my finger. So this is what trainees feel like when they don’t complete their homework on time. Oh, hell. Ryn is so going to kill me. Why didn’t I just ask Raven for help? I’m sure I could have come up with a believable reason for why I need a ball gown.
My bedroom door swings open and there stands Ryn, irritatingly good-looking in a suit. “You’re not ready yet.”
“Don’t you knock? I could have been naked.”
“You would have squealed or something. Now hurry up, we’re already late.”
Time to confess. “I can’t go anywhere until I have something to wear.”
“What? You haven’t done the dress yet? What have you been doing all day?”
I throw my hands up. “I’m not a clothes caster, okay. I have zero skills in this area.”
“Well, as much as I’d like to gloat that I’ve finally found something the great Violet Fairdale can’t do, I really don’t have time right now. And you could have told me about this problem earlier.”
“What exactly would you have done about it, Ryn? Made the dress yourself?”
“Just get yourself ready, dammit!” he shouts.
“I can’t if you’re standing in my room!” I shout back before slamming the door in his face. I’ll get myself ready, all right. And I’ll walk in there wearing my multi-slitted, feather-adorned bath robe if I have to. I stand in front of my mirror and conjure up a few hair pins. I separate my hair into several sections and twist and pin them to my head. Nothing spectacular, but it’ll have to do. As an afterthought, I add a tiny flower to the end of each pin.
Makeup. Hmm. My mother was never around to teach me any spells, but I’ve watched Raven touching up her face often enough to know the basics. I try out the spell for powder and watch as a fine layer covers my fingers. Great, at least I can get that right. I pat my hands over my face, change the color to pink for my cheeks, and apply lipstick from the end of my finger. I’m actually starting to have fun painting my face when I hear a knock on my door.
I open up to find Ryn clutching a black and silver dress that looks miles better than the one currently hiding under my bed. “Where did that come from? Your private dress-up box?”
Ryn shoves the dress into my arms. “Let’s just say I borrowed it.”
“And you didn’t think to borrow a dress for me this morning?”
“I didn’t think you’d approve of borrowing.”
“If borrowing means stealing, then no, I don’t approve.”
“Then I’ll take it back when you’re finished with it. Now please just put it on.”
I close the door—minus the slamming this time—and lay the dress on the bed. It’s actually two pieces. The bodice is black with fine silver detail embroidered onto it, and the skirt is
made from a fabric covered in swirling black and silver patterns. I bend to pick up something that fell on the floor and find a pair of elbow-length black gloves.
Before getting into the dress, I retrieve my emergency kit from my training bag. I may not know how to cast clothes, but I have been taught to resize things in order to easily carry them while on assignment. In less than ten seconds, my emergency kit is the size of a grape. I grab my right boot and click open the hidden compartment in the sole. In goes my emergency kit. Then I set about transforming the flat heels into something higher. Not the most elegant of shoes, but I don’t plan on anyone looking under my skirt.
Five minutes later I swing my door open. Ryn clears his throat. “Wow. Who would have thought you could look like such a lady?” I allow myself a sly smile. What he doesn’t know is that underneath this I’m wearing shorts, boots, and a knife strapped to each leg. Lady, my ass. Ryn frowns. “You need more cleavage.”
“I do not need more cleavage.”
“Just a little bit.”
“Ryn.”
“Look, I’m just saying it would be easier to get past the guy at the door if you had a little more chest to flash at him.”
“And what if it’s a girl who’s at the door?”
He gives me a cocky smile. “Well, we’ve got that part covered then, haven’t we?” I cross my arms and glare at him. “There, perfect!” he says, pointing at my chest. “Now just keep your arms crossed.”
I groan as I force my arms to my sides. “Can we go now? Oh, wait. Just one more thing.” I hurry back across my room to the small table beside my bed. I haven’t used the griffin disc since Nate and I returned from the Labyrinth, but something tells me I may need it tonight. I pull open the drawer.
The disc is gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Ugh!” I stamp the floor with my newly transformed heel. “That traitorous thief!” Nate must have taken the disc the same night we returned from the labyrinth. Why? To give it to Zell? To use it himself?
Faery Realms: Ten Magical Titles: Multi-Author Bundle of Novels & Novellas Page 18
