by A W Hartoin
My eyes roamed over the bones and skulls with the oppressive dread making me want to fly out of that place.
“Think of Penrose,” said Bentha.
I just couldn’t do it. Those bones were people, like Tess and Judd. They had lives, happiness and sorrow. Some of them must’ve been seers. The moment that crossed my mind, a great weight settled in my chest.
Bentha waved at me and then a rakish smile crossed his lips. “Think of Daiki.”
“Daiki? Why would I think of him?” My cheeks flushed and I wanted to poke Bentha with my sword.
“Because if the great and, dare I say, handsome katana were here, you would be quite close to these bones without an ounce of fear showing.”
“Daiki probably won’t ever speak to me again.”
“Would that make you care any less?”
“Fine, you know-it-all piece of bark.” I flew up to the bones and started looking up close and personal. Oddly, the second I did the weight lessened and the dread seemed to pull away from me.
Bentha touched my arm when I fluttered close. “You’re better?”
“Yes, but I don’t know why.”
“Because your anger overcame your fear. The dead don’t like fear. It reminds them of their demise. Anger pushes them away. Now they’ll be less troublesome to you. I suggest we examine the skulls. They would make a grand entrance.”
I didn’t know about grand, but it made sense. I started with the skull nearest to the sign on the right. The back of the head was facing out and I didn’t see an entrance or symbol. When I’d gone over ten skulls on the right, I moved to the left. The first one was also the back of the skull, but the second faced out. Something was growing in the left eye socket. Ick. I forced myself to move in closer. At first glance it appeared to be a kind of mold, brown and dry-looking. But mold wasn’t typically dry. It needed moisture. I swallowed hard. The last thing I wanted to do was touch mold growing in a human eye socket, but I hadn’t seen anything else unusual. The mold or whatever it was came away in a powdery dust at my touch. Bentha climbed up beside me and stood on the skull’s nose ridge.
“That’s not my idea of a symbol for a royal retainer,” he said.
“Mine either, but it’s odd. It doesn’t belong.” I sniffed it and my eyes popped open wide. “Coriander. It’s coriander.”
“The spice?”
“Yes. Mom grows it.”
“Is it medicinal?”
I wiped my finger on my skirt. “No. Grandma Vi never used it. Mom loves to cook with it and she puts it in bouquets.”
“It doesn’t flower though, does it?”
I tapped my coriander finger on my chin. “No, but Mom made a big bouquet for Easy’s mom before we left. She said it was a message and she used coriander.”
“What kind of message is in a bouquet?” asked Bentha.
“Mom says flowers and herbs have meanings and uses beyond medicinal use.” I closed my eyes and pictured Mom in our mantel making the bouquet. What did she say?
“I’ve got it. Coriander means hidden worth.”
A smile spread across Bentha’s painted lips. They stretched so far, the paint cracked. “This is it. The vermillion. Hidden worth.”
I landed on the eye socket and peered into the darkness behind. I wanted to light the way so badly. “I should’ve known it would be dark. You don’t suppose, just this once, I could—”
“No, my lady. Best not. I have brought a solution.” Bentha pulled a small rucksack off his back. I hadn’t noticed it before because it was painted perfectly to match him. He opened it and a little green head poked out.
“Rufus?” I said. “How can he help?”
“Give him some love.” Bentha held out the rucksack and Rufus jumped onto my shoulder, digging his claws in and wrapping himself around my neck. His favorite spot. Definitely not mine.
“What for?”
“My lady’s love is a valuable thing, especially to a fire lizard.”
I rolled my eyes and stroked Rufus’s tail. “You’re a good lizard. Nice lizard. Please don’t sleep on my face anymore.”
“More,” said Bentha.
I peeled Rufus off my neck. His eyes were half closed and he was purring. I petted him from tip to tail and a glow lit up on his billowing sides.
“I love you, you little face-sleeping nut.”
More glow.
I kissed him on the head. Tastes like pepper. He shook like a dog and a glow like a lantern erupted from his sides.
“Whoa. That is cool. I didn’t know he could do that.”
“A little love goes a long, long way.”
“Especially with lizards.”
“Indeed. Let us proceed unto the depths.”
I held up Rufus and he cast a warm green light into the skull’s interior. There was a narrow pathway cut into the back of the skull. It circled around and ended at a crack. Rufus wiggled in my hands and I set him on the path. He scampered along ahead of us and we had to race to catch up.
“Wait, Rufus,” I said. “Don’t go in that hole.”
But he did, of course, and the light went to a small glow inside the crack.
“Aw, Rufus!”
Bentha poked me in the side and I gritted my teeth. He was probably talking to me, but I couldn’t hear a thing. It was like having a hood pulled over my head. I missed Iris so much. As usual, sight was my savior and now I didn’t have that. Bentha poked me again.
“I’m going. I’m going.”
The side of the skull had looked smooth, but once I was pressed up against it, I felt the pitting time had caused and reminded me that the skull had been there for over two hundred years. I was in someone’s head. Disturbing didn’t cover it.
Another poke. Bentha liked to move fast. But I wasn’t going to hurry and fall off just to satisfy his spasticness. I crept along and began smiling as I sensed his feelings. He was about to jump out of his paint with frustration.
“Calm down. I’m going,” I said.
A few minutes later, the skull curved under my fingers and I touched the crack. I sped up for Bentha’s sake and stepped into a tunnel made green from Rufus’s glow. The little lizard hung out on the ceiling, licking his eyeball and looking bored.
“Thank a lot.”
Lick.
“You know there are a lot of spells in Grandma’s book. I bet there’s one for exterminating vermin.”
Hiss.
Bentha stepped into the tunnel in a crouch. It was way too short for him. Even with his legs half bent, the needles on his head brushed the top of the tunnel.
“Don’t threaten the lantern,” he said.
“It’s merely cheerful banter,” I said.
Hiss.
“The lantern doesn’t think so. Let us proceed before my legs buckle.”
“Can you do it?”
“One does what one must. It is a test of my fortitude. Lead the way, my lady.”
I crept through the tunnel with my wings dragging on the dusty bones that the tunnel had been carved through. If I wanted to drive Mom completely over the edge I could tell her that I had two hundred years of dead on me when we got home.
The tunnel curved right and our path was blocked by a femur that hadn’t been cut through. The bone had a panel of intricately carved flowers in a picture frame also carved into the bone. Bentha passed me and ran his fingers around the edge. He pushed and examined the edges where the bone met the others. He turned to me and frowned. “It’s immoveable. There are no breaks or openings in the bone. We have chosen the wrong place.”
“Impossible. This has to be it. This tunnel wasn’t made by accident.” I tapped my lips and smelled the spice on my fingertip. “The coriander had a meaning. Maybe this does too.”
“I know trees, not flowers. Does Adele grow these?” asked Bentha.
“Yes, they’re zinnias. They have no medicinal value either, but they mean thoughts of absent friends.”
“Lovely sentiment, but hardly helpful.”
&nbs
p; I slipped in front of him. “I think it is. The vermillion didn’t put it here for no reason.” I squinted at the carving. “I need more light. Rufus isn’t enough.”
“No one but the dead can see,” said Bentha.
“Thanks for reminding me.”
We stepped back from the wall and I lit my palm with a snapping yellow flame that felt like an old friend come to visit. “Maybe there’s a message in the foliage.”
“I see nothing but petals and leaves.”
“Wait.” I pointed to a cluster of blossoms. “That’s not a zinnia.”
Bentha leaned forward, his warm cheek brushing mine, and he nodded.
“That’s weird. I think it’s dill. Those two do not go together.”
Bentha raised an eyebrow at me. “What does it mean?”
“Powerful against evil. I want to be that,” I said.
He put a light hand on my shoulder. “You are.”
“When it comes to evil you can never be powerful enough.”
I touched the dill so well hidden in the message of friendship and the wall evaporated, leaving the smell of dill in the air and showing us another tunnel with pots of green glowing mushrooms lighting the way.
“Quick. Get through before it closes again,” I said, hurrying across the invisible line.
Bentha followed, but Rufus didn’t. He crouched on the floor, hissing.
“Come on, scaredy lizard.”
Hiss.
The wall reappeared in an instant and Rufus was gone. Bentha and I lunged at the wall and rammed into the cold bone.
“Fantastic,” I said, backing up.
“It is fantastic,” said Bentha. “Look at this side.”
The bone had a different carving in another picture frame. Bentha traced the new foliage with a finger while I racked my brain. I’d seen that flower before, but it wasn’t all that common.
“I’ve got it. Hyssop. It means sacrifice. See if there’s something that doesn’t belong.”
“Here.” Bentha showed me a tiny flower with pointy petals hidden in a cluster of long hyssop stalks.
“Oh, yeah. There it is. Edelweiss. It means courage. They definitely go together, if you think about it.”
Bentha touched the edelweiss and the wall disappeared. The smell of edelweiss was stronger than the dill had been. Rufus was in the same position as before, but he’d turned so bright green he was almost yellow.
I held out my arms. “Come, Rufus.”
The lizard darted into my arms, barreling into me at full speed. He climbed up my leg, onto my neck, and wrapped his long tail around my face, covering my eyes. The wall reappeared. I know because I staggered into it, while trying to pry Rufus off my face. My flame went out and I pulled the tail down to my nose. Not a big improvement, but I could see. Bentha got in front of me with his sword unsheathed.
“Someone approaches.” He pushed me behind him and I peeked around his side, still tugging at Rufus’s tail.
A fairy came around a bend in the tunnel and my heart rate went up. I didn’t plan on meeting the vermillion with a lizard on my face. Not very impressive or persuasive. If the fairy noticed me at all, I couldn’t tell. He was focused on Bentha’s sword. Who could blame him? He appeared to be unarmed, but then again, so did I.
The fairy stopped three inches away. He was my dad’s height, but half his weight with skin the color of rich mahogany and no wings. He had dark curly hair tinged with a good amount of gray and his clothing reminded me of the galen’s togas with its long draping fabric. But it wasn’t a toga, more like a dress, yet at the same time manly and powerful looking. Like the galen he had pouches at his waist, except his were made of leather and had buttoned closures. The oddest thing about him was the creature perched on his shoulder. It looked like a gargoyle from Notre Dame. I thought it was some sort of statue. It was the color of weathered stone and had bat-like ears and a single horn in the middle of its forehead. Then it blinked. Crazy. It was alive.
The fairy kept his eyes on Bentha and I’d rarely seen anyone so impressive. He stood looking at us so calm and dignified, I felt embarrassed to have intruded upon him.
Bentha stepped forward with his sword raised and the fairy raised his hand. “So you have found us. What is your will?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I YANKED RUFUS’S tail down, but it didn’t budge. I gritted my teeth and stepped out from behind Bentha. No use in trying to save my dignity. I didn’t have any left.
“We came to ask a favor. Are you a vermillion?” I asked.
“I am.”
I hesitated. He didn’t look thrilled to see us and I had to get off on the right foot.
“I’m Matilda…Whipplethorn. Granddaughter of Viola Whipplethorn, a wood fairy of your acquaintance, I believe.”
The vermillion’s lips parted and he brought his palms together. “Did you say Viola Whipplethorn?”
“Yes. Can you see the resemblance?” I pulled Rufus’s tail down to my chin. “I mean, if you ignore the lizard.”
I saw a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Viola left, never to return.”
“Yes, I know. She died last year, but I’m here to ask for your help.”
“How do I know you are who you say you are?”
“Viola’s best friend is Lucien Galen. He sent me to you. His daughter is the great healer of the galens.”
The vermillion came closer and looked into my eyes. “You could be Viola’s child.”
I smiled. “That’s what Lucien said about me. That I am Viola’s child. My mom is totally different. She’s scared of everything.”
“And you’re not?”
“I get scared, but it doesn’t stop me.”
The vermillion smiled for the first time and his face lost its cool dignity and became warm and inviting. Bentha sheathed his sword.
“I am Bentha, master of the sword.”
“Welcome to you both. How did you find us?”
“A friend told me where you were hiding. Don’t worry. We won’t tell anyone where you are,” I said.
“I can’t imagine why this friend told you our secret.” The vermillion raised his palms. “We aren’t in any position to help anyone.”
“Lucien said you’re the only ones who can help us. We need a cure.”
He sighed. “We can’t do that. I wish your friend had told you that. We are barred by the king.”
“The king isn’t here,” I said.
“The king is a constant presence. We are his royal healers. It’s part of our contract.”
“Are you saying you never heal anyone, but the royal family and court?”
Something flickered behind the vermillion’s eyes and I knew he’d broken the rules plenty of times.
“As I said, we are in no position.”
“No one will know. Please come with me and treat my friend. She’s the kindest, sweetest person in the world,” I said.
“You should treat her yourself. If you’re Viola’s granddaughter, you must have the healing gift.”
“I do and I would, but it’s not the gift I need, it’s a spell.”
The vermillion’s brow furrowed. “Viola was quite gifted and she should have any spell a wood fairy could need.”
“All but one. Lucien said you might have taught Grandma how to do it, but she never wrote it down.”
The vermillion tensed. “What spell do you require?”
“Miss Penrose, my friend, has congestive heart failure and there’s only one spell for that.”
The tension leaked out of him and he walked to me. The smell of warm honey emanated from him and I felt soothed just from smelling it. He patted me on the shoulder. “You are mistaken, Matilda. Your friend can’t have congestive heart failure. Wood fairies don’t get that. You can go to any healer in Paris and they will help you.”
“She does have it. I’m certain.”
“You’re young, a new healer. We all make mistakes.”
“But I didn’t. I diagnosed her and fou
ght a battle to get the kaki persimmon root to treat her. Then Lucien said it would only treat her symptoms. It wasn’t a cure. You have the cure. The only spell that can save her.”
“She doesn’t have it. I’m sorry.”
Bentha put his hand on my other shoulder. “Matilda isn’t wrong. My lady doesn’t make those kind of mistakes.”
“As I said, we all make mistakes,” said the vermillion.
“You say that because she is young. Lucien is old, father of the great healer, he confirmed the diagnosis. Do you doubt him as well?”
The vermillion dropped his hand and turned away. Bentha and I looked at each other and shrugged. Then the vermillion slowly turned back around.
“Lucien confirmed congestive heart failure. Are you certain to your soul?” he asked.
“Of course. Do you think we’d come all this way, if we weren’t certain? Bentha was nearly killed trying to find you,” I said.
“Who sent you to us? I have to know,” said the vermillion.
“The Marfisis. They didn’t want to tell me.”
The vermillion went all thoughtful. “They must’ve had a good reason to tell you.”
“They did,” I said, not mentioning the whole blackmail thing.
“What does your friend look like?”
“It matters not,” said Bentha. “She is a patient. You are a healer.”
“In this case, it matters,” said the vermillion. “Please tell me.”
“She’s lovely with blond hair and white wings,” I said. “But I don’t see how it matters.”
“Is she pale?”
“Yes. It’s really bad now, since she’s so sick.”
“But she’s always been pale, very very pale?”
“Yes. She’s really pale. So what?”
“Are there any other colors in her wings besides white?”
“I don’t think so.” I looked at Bentha and he shook his head no.
The vermillion’s chest rose and fell rapidly.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “Lucien saw her in person? He confirmed congestive heart failure?”
“Yes. I told you. What is wrong?”
“It’s…it’s just so rare a condition, you’ve taken me aback.”
“Will you help us?” I asked, for the first time doubting that I could talk him into it. He seemed so freaked out. That was the last thing I expected.
