by Marisa Mills
“And how do you know him?” Alexander whispered, gripping my elbow.
How did I know him? I couldn’t tell the truth. I scrambled to remember how many lies I’d already told him. I was supposed to be a lady from Argent. I shouldn’t have known someone like Sterling at all.
“He’s a friend,” I said vaguely.
“He’s missing a finger,” Alexander hissed. “Isn’t that a sign he’s—”
“Stolen something?” I asked. “Yes. But I trust Sterling with my life. And it’s not like we have a ton of choices right now.”
Alexander clenched his jaw. “I don’t like it,” he said. “First the monsters. Now, this.”
It took fifteen minutes to arrive at the place where Sterling lived. It wasn’t much, just the haphazard remains of an old, concrete building with scraps of fabric tied over it in a vain attempt to keep out the rain and cold. I’d always found it cozy, but after spending so much time in Reverie, the poverty was heartbreaking. My eyes scanned over the crumbling wallpaper, the bucket collecting rainwater, the misshapen pieces of furniture that Sterling and I had discovered in the Dregs over the years. The stuff that was too broken to sell.
Alexander’s eyes went wide.
“We’re staying here?” he asked in horror.
“Be nice,” I warned over my shoulder.
I quickened my pace, so I could enter with Sterling. The earthiness of sage and basil flitted through the air. The flames of a small fire cast flickering shadows upon the dull concrete and the tattered blankets spread over the bare ground. Claribel herself sat on her knees by a small black pot, stirring its contents. She was a thin woman with a persistent gauntness to her face. Like most people in the Scraps, she never had enough to eat. Time had creased her eyes and forehead with spider-thin wrinkles and had sent streaks of white through her thick, brown hair. When she looked up; her eyes were icy blue.
“Wynter!” she exclaimed.
She climbed to her feet and hugged me. I pulled myself against her and held her tightly. She’d taken care of me when I was a little girl, but once I reached adolescence, Gabriel had declared I was too old to spend all my days curled up next to Sterling and Briar, listening to her read fairy tales.
“Clary,” I said. “How are you?”
Her smile was haggard. She’d been sick for a while, sick with something that made her always tired and always sore. Sometimes, she had a hard time breathing, and none of us knew why.
“And who’s this?” Claribel asked. “What a handsome, young man!”
Alexander entered, looking embarrassed. “Thank you,” he said.
“They’re gonna spend the night,” Sterling said. “Wynter and Alexander are on their way to…where was it?”
“Reverie,” I replied. “You would call it the Floats.”
Claribel furrowed her brow, likely confused, but Sterling gave her a warning nod and she stiffened, taking in Alexander’s fine suit. It was torn and dirty, but the fabric was still far too rich for the Scraps. He didn’t belong here, and we didn’t talk in front of strangers.
“Of course,” Claribel said. “You’re just in time for dinner. It ain’t much, but we’re happy to share.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
Sterling gathered the bowls, all mismatched and scratched up, and Claribel spooned in the soup. It was thin and watery with a few herbs, likely pulled from the woods, and bits of meat, probably a songbird or a rat. But the carrots were fresh and the potato skins rich in nutrients. I settled down between Sterling and Alexander. I sipped the soup from my bowl, grateful for any food after the trip in the forests and across the Scraps. When I glanced at Alexander, his face was carefully blank. This food wasn’t as much or as good as he was used to, but at least he was too polite to complain about it.
“So, what were you looking for in the woods, anyway?” Sterling asked after dinner.
“Something I read about,” I said. Alexander shot me a warning look, but I pressed ahead, trying to remember as much as I could about the place Nick described in his letter.
“Just outside the walls, two days from the ocean. Trees, ruins, a lake full of statues. There was a man,” I said, “From Reverie, who visited them. There may have been a mage-lady, too.”
Sterling grinned crookedly. “Like the one Gabriel used to say ate my sister?” he asked.
“What?” Alexander asked.
“Gabriel used to tell this scary story when we were kids,” Sterling said, “about this mage-lady. She was jealous because she couldn’t have kids, so she went around eating other people’s.”
“I always hated that he told you that awful story,” Claribel scoffed.
“Who’s Gabriel?” Alexander asked.
“He’s…” Sterling trailed off and glanced at me. “He’s a thug. That’s all. And he’s gotten worse, too. More unstable. There’s a lot more fighting going on these days.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, putting a hand on Sterling’s knee.
“It ain’t your fault,” Sterling replied, smiling tightly.
“How long ago would this man have been here?” Claribel asked.
“Years ago,” I replied. “His name was Nicholas Armenia. He was writing about the forests to a woman named Guinevere.”
Sterling furrowed his brow and sipped at his soup. “I ain’t never seen evidence of no mages,” he said, “but…there are rumors about the woods. I’ve heard they’re haunted, some say by a broken mage. Some say by monsters.”
“We walked through the woods all day and didn’t see anything,” Alexander said.
“And how deep did you fall into the woods?” Sterling asked. “The further in you go, the more dangerous they get. They ain’t no place to just idly go looking around.”
“Do you know a place like that?” I asked Sterling. “Could you show us where it is?”
“I doubt we’ll find anything,” Alexander cut in. “The best course of action is to return to Reverie as quickly as possible. My father’s probably already sent scouts out looking for us, and Guinevere and Nick were probably just having an affair. It’s not all that important! I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with him anyway.”
I frowned, chewing my lip. I had a feeling, it was all connected. The demons, the earthquakes, but I couldn’t tell Alexander why it mattered without revealing more about myself and what Dorian was having me steal for him.
“Did either of them know the Countess Rosewood?” Claribel asked.
“Yes,” I said, sitting up a little straighter. “Amelia, Countess Rosewood, was Guinevere’s mother.”
“It has been a long time, then,” Claribel said. “When I was younger, there were a man and a mage-lady that used to come around. They’d usually come by and give my mom a few coins for bread and herbs when they were passing through. They were so dashing and beautiful, I used to look forward to their visits. For a few months it was almost every weekend, then it just stopped. One day, we had a woman, Countess Rosewood, come looking for them. I dunno how that worked out. My mom didn’t want me talking to the countess. Mages are dangerous, after all.”
Alexander’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
“I dunno much about the people you’re looking for or about what they were doing, but I know a little about where they used to go. You’ve been there, Sterling. It’s that clearing where it always floods in the summer. I dunno that you’ll find much there, though.”
“I’ll take you, though,” Sterling said, “If you want to look. It hasn’t rained in a while, so it shouldn’t be underwater. Of course, that’s assuming you aren’t scared.”
“You know I’m not,” I replied.
“I didn’t mean you,” Sterling smirked.
Alexander’s face reddened. “I’m not scared of some woods,” he replied. “I just think this is a waste of time. But if it’s important to you, Wynter, I’ll go.”
“Then, we’ll go first thing in the morning,” Sterling said.
Maybe then, I’d be able to figure part of this out. I had the feeling that whatever this was between Nick and Guinevere was a lot more than just an affair. I needed leverage, something to trade. I wished I hadn’t given Dorian the journal without reading it.
I wiped my face and arms with a steaming rag, before dunking it into the bucket of steaming water Claribel had filled for me. Water was too precious to waste in the Scraps. Then I curled up on a blanket near the stove, while Alexander took a low leather couch. Sterling said he’d sleep outside, and hung a hammock in the doorframe.
For a while, I listened to the sound of Claribel coughing, until Alexander’s breath deepened and I knew he was asleep. Then I crept outside and joined Sterling, climbing into the makeshift hammock with him. He shifted over and I snuggled into his arms.
“I wish I could see Briar,” I said.
“He’ll be furious you came to the Scraps without visiting.”
“I know,” I said. “But it’s too dangerous right now. I don’t know what Gabriel will do if he finds out I’m not in Reverie. He’ll understand, one day.”
I fell asleep to the sound of crickets and the open stars above me, warm in Sterling’s arms, somehow feeling like I’d come home for the first time in years.
Three
STERLING LED THE WAY THROUGH the forests with a practiced ease. As he walked, he waved a large stick before him, sweeping away spiderwebs. I followed closely, chewing on mint to quell the hunger in my belly. Claribel had packed some dried meat and a loaf of dry, dark bread, but it had to last all day. Living in Reverie had spoiled me. I’d gotten too used to eating well, and I could only imagine how bad it was for Alexander. Still, he hadn’t complained. I wasn’t sure if that was because he was being polite or if this was tied to whatever rivalry he seemed to have developed with Sterling.
We’d left Claribel’s at dawn, and they’d spent the first thirty minutes sniping at one another, but as their breath grew labored, they’d lapsed into silence. Sometimes, Sterling paused to gather a few herbs into the worn leather bag that hung from his shoulders. They were broader than I remembered, but maybe that was just because the mages never stooped to manual labor.
We’d gone deeper into the woods than where we were yesterday, so far that the city was obscured by the tall pine trees. The air was fresh, and the sun flickered down through the heavy boughs, speckling the earth like glitter. Apart from our footsteps, and the occasional bird call, it was quiet and peaceful. We clambered over a massive tree trunk that stretched into the distance. Its unearthed roots clawed towards the sky.
“We’re getting close now,” Sterling said, pointing at the ground. “See how this part is at a lower elevation? It’s because it used to be underwater at some point. Still floods when it rains hard. Then, you gotta watch out for snakes. There’s quite a few poisonous ones about. Some make good eating, though.”
Alexander gagged.
With a smirk, Sterling threw his arm around my shoulders. “I don’t think prettyboy here’s really cut out for this,” Sterling said, nodding behind us.
“That’s not nice,” I replied. “He’s doing his best.”
I heard Alexander stumbling behind us, his boots coming down heavily on the leaves and grass. Claribel had loaned me a clean white blouse and a pair of leather pants, but Alexander had opted to keep his own clothes, as dirty as they were. It felt good to be in normal, practical clothes again. I was getting tired of tripping over the folds of the fancy dresses Dorian had bought for me.
“How long are you gonna hang around with him?” Sterling asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
Sterling sighed. “You know. You sound different now,” he said.
“That happens when a nobleman is always correcting the way you speak,” I replied.
Sterling snorted. “Sounds awful,” he said.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered. In all the letters I sent back, I only mentioned the positives about life in Reverie. Sterling was too smart to think I was just enjoying myself up there, but he had no idea how dangerous the Floats could really be. Especially for a fraud like me.
“Is he worse than Gabriel?” Sterling asked.
No, I thought immediately. Dorian wasn’t worse than Gabriel. At least, Dorian had never struck me or cut me, which was Gabriel’s preferred punishment. I had the scars on my arms to prove it. But there was something strangely comforting about Gabriel; I knew him well enough to predict what he would do in any given situation. He followed a sort of logic and hid his emotions poorly. I hated the way he treated me, but I knew what to expect.
Dorian was much more complicated. I alternated between hating him for taking me away from everything I knew and between thinking he might—in his own strange, dark way—genuinely care about me. And then there was his promise to give me an apartment in the Gardens, where Sterling and Briar and I could get away from my uncle. I knew it was too good to be true, but warmth flared in my chest every time I thought about his offer. I wanted to tell Sterling about it, but I didn’t want to get his hopes up. Or mine.
I glanced over at Sterling and realized I still hadn’t answered his question.
“He’s strange,” I said finally.
Lucian laughed, and I smiled in relief. He hadn’t spoken all morning.
Were you worried? Lucian murmured. I’m just tired.
“I know,” I replied.
Part of me wondered if Dorian was happy to be rid of me. He’d gotten what he wanted, and a loose end had been tied up. I pictured him up there celebrating with Francisca, drinking champagne and toasting my demise. If I did go back up to Reverie, would he be disappointed to see me?
Not if you find something useful to him, Lucian said. I nodded tensely.
“I just hope this doesn’t turn out to be a wild goose chase.”
Sterling cast me a quizzical look, and I realized I’d been talking to myself.
“It’s a demon,” I explained. Sterling caught my arm and pushed me behind him, pulling out a hunting knife with his other hand.
“Where?” he asked, glancing anxiously at the thick woods around us.
“It’s fine,” I said, squeezing his shoulder. “This one won’t hurt us. He lives in my magical sword, and he’s kind of a smartass. It’s a long story,” I replied. “I wish I had time to tell you, but…”
“So why not stay down here?” Sterling asked, holding my wrist. “With me?”
I sighed, looking up into Sterling’s brown eyes. It was so tempting, to stay down here in the woods, away from mages, and demons, and mystery. Before I could answer, Alexander stumbled into the clearing with his sword raised.
“Did you hear that?” he asked. He had a streak of dirt across his cheek, and his blonde hair was so tousled it looked like a bird’s nest. I pulled my arm out of Sterling’s grip and stepped away. “Hear what?” I asked.
“That—that noise in the bushes,” Alexander said. “It sounded like—like something walking about.”
“It’s prolly a squirrel,” Sterling said. “Maybe it’ll be there on the way back. We can catch it and eat it. You ever skinned a squirrel before, Your Grace?”
Alexander grimaced. “It’s Your Royal Highness,” he said, “Peasant.”
“Careful,” Sterling said. “I might decide to leave Your Royalness here in the woods.”
“Wynter wouldn’t let you,” Alexander replied. “I’m not going to be intimidated by your threats.”
“Be nice,” I said, “Both of you.”
Alexander rolled his eyes. Sterling only grinned, clearly not taking my comment all that seriously. He was in his element here, with leather pants and a dark vest. A thick belt strapped around his waist, filled with tools and survival gear.
We pushed on, and gradually the trees became thinner, turning from thick spruce to sparse alder, with white bark and bright green leaves. I could see a long indention
in the ground, following along the old path of a river. A bank of red clay was held together precariously with green ferns and vines. Alexander recoiled as we passed the bloated body of an elk, half rotten and buzzing with flies. The river soon widened into a wide clearing, fringed with herbs and yellow wildflowers. In the center was a shallow pool. Its crystal clear surface reflected the sky and the trees. When I moved around it, I could see statues gazing up beneath the water, half buried in mud, as if trapped behind a pane of glass.
At the far end of the valley was a large arch made of white marble, intricately carved with bas-relief figures. It was like something I’d expect to see in Reverie, or maybe the Gardens, but not way out here. I knew there were ancient towns and settlements outside the Scraps, long swallowed up by the forests, but I’d never expected such grandeur. Was this the place Nick had mentioned in the letter?
Hisses whispered in the air as I stepped into the clearing. I held my breath as the air around me seemed to ripple. Light played along the ground, dappling from between the gaps of the trees and sky. There was something vibrant about this place, something just at the edge of my awareness.
“Can you feel that, Lucian?” I murmured.
He shifted around in my mind, and I shivered as the feeling of feathers brushed my skin. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, he was standing next to me. It was the first time I’d seen him outside of my dreams. His dark hair and eyes stood in stark contrast with the light-filled clearing. His skin, though, looked paler than usual, and dark circles lingered beneath his eyes. Even his silver and gold armor seemed a little duller than I remembered. Muted by reality, somehow.
“You didn’t have to strain yourself to do this, Lucian,” I said.
“I didn’t do this,” Lucian replied, turning his fingers in the light. “I can feel…there is power in this place. There were demons here once, and I think some traces of them still remain.”
I wondered if Sterling or Alexander could see him as well, but when I turned around they were gone. The wind picked up, lifting Lucian’s cape. The blue fabric slapped the air. Water lapped at my ankles, and I jumped back, startled. It was much higher than before. The water was warm and glittering in the sunlight. I reached down to touch it and felt a light pressure, but no wetness.
