by Amy Bearce
Nell spoke for all of them when she said, “Was that what I think it was?”
Micah replied, “It was a young dragon, yes, but please know it is rare for any creature in these woods to attack. Many years ago, when they were larger and fiercer, this was not the case. But now? I have never seen a dragon attack. My father said the dragons had mostly returned to hibernation, without enough magic to sustain such large beasts.”
“Larger? Fiercer?” Corbin voiced the same thought Sierra had. “Any fiercer and it would have roasted us!”
Micah chuckled, and his laughter ran over Sierra like rain. Corbin shifted on the rock, and she wondered if he noticed Micah’s laughter seemed almost physically present, too. Or was it only her, having shared magic with him?
“The magic of your fairy queens drew the young dragon, I think. I have seen many creatures in this forest that would make humans fear them, but none are as deadly as humanity itself. Humans, ever fearful, have hunted many magical creatures of these mountains into near extinction. After all, part of why fairies began bonding to humans was to gain protection from other humans who would use them, enslave them, or kill them.” His voice lost all humor as he finished his statement.
Sierra couldn’t get the image of the dragon out of her mind. Her home seemed so tame in comparison. The only familiar magical creatures she’d seen on this journey were the fairies.
The fairies in question had found the group again and darted around the camp as if playing a child’s game of “Come Catch Me.”
Nell climbed to her feet, her face slowly draining of expression. Her pupils expanded until they nearly eclipsed the blue of her eyes, leaving only a pale ring to her iris.
The same rich voice they’d heard once before rolled out from her mouth, a majestic alto. The voice simply took over like a puppeteer using a marionette.
“Humanity can be murderous. Like scavengers stealing the bricks from a bridge, causing it to collapse, so do humans steal the life-force of our world in large ways and small. Every magic-born creature enslaved is one more hole in our foundation. Soon, if these tragedies are not stopped, the foundation will collapse. Begin with the fairies.”
ll the hairs on Sierra’s body stood on end as Nell-who-was-not-Nell spoke. Corbin’s eyes widened, his mouth moving without sound coming out.
When she finished her last ominous statement, she started to collapse, but Corbin caught her in time to lay her gently on the ground. This time, instead of Nell falling into a deep sleep, her eyelids fluttered for several heartbeats before she sighed deeply.
“Fascinating,” Micah murmured.
“That’s what you call it?” Sierra replied.
Nell’s eyes snapped open, pale blue again, and she gasped, “What happened?”
It took a fair amount of time to calm her. She was ready to pound fists into the nearest tree to make this thing leave her alone, but no one knew what it was, much less how to make it shut up.
“Besides,” Sierra pointed out, “It seems like this voice is trying to help us. It’s sending a message, right?” She pointed at Corbin. “What do you think she meant at the end?”
“And by ‘she’ let’s be clear that it’s not me,” Nell snarled, then muttered more about “invisible spirits” and “complete madness.”
Corbin spared her a sympathetic glance, but his eyes mostly stayed focused far into the distance as he often did when thinking hard. Sierra loved that he could set aside weird prophecies, dragon attacks, and fairy mysteries in order to think about a specific problem with every fiber of his being.
He finally answered, each word coming slowly as he pondered. “I think that keepers were meant to protect fairies from the very thing we ended up doing to them ourselves. Kind of ironic, isn’t it? Between the alchemists and the healers, we haven’t done a very good job of keeping the fairies from getting abused―not even me.”
Sierra winced at the mention of alchemists. Once again, her life as Jack’s daughter slapped her in the face. Silence fell upon them except for the creaking of the ancient trees swaying in the wind. The sound bled loneliness into the cold dawn air.
Micah broke the awkward stillness. “I do not know about this prophecy, but my parents said magic had been dwindling their entire lives. I can tell you the world has changed even since I have been alive. There is less magic, yes, but the world feels… ill. I cannot think of the proper words for it.”
Sierra thought to ask her queen through their new connection. What did she mean by “Start with the fairies?”
Free… Free… Free… the longing in Queen’s emotions made Sierra sway, made her eyes prickle.
“I think,” Sierra spoke reluctantly, still unwilling to share the source of her information, but knowing the message itself had to be shared. “I think Corbin’s right. It means we’re supposed to let the fairies be free. Still be with them, still help them, but stop taking any nectar, and stop thinking of them as basic creatures to use for our own advantage.”
“But I never did,” Corbin said, voice soft.
Sierra’s cheeks burned because he was right. Micah was right, too. The message might as well be directed right at her. Sure, Jack made her take more nectar than she’d like, but she never really cared very much, did she? No, she cared about the beatings, about her lack of choice, about how Flight dominated their lives. She always hated the elixir, but not because of what it did to the fairies or the magical world. She hadn’t even known that was a problem.
No, she hated what it did to people she knew, friends from the docks. She saw them grow emaciated and brittle, dreaming away their days without eating until they starved to death with a smile on their face. She hated being any part of that. But she never really thought Queen could understand enough to hate it, too. To maybe hate her keeper for using her that way.
Shame swelled in Sierra. Turning away from everyone, she strode to the edge of camp, only a few trees deep, for some privacy. She sent out a tendril of thought to Queen, sort of a sense of questioning, “???” and the fairy came. Queen glimmered in the pink morning light. The sun had risen above the trees sometime during Nell’s unexpected performance, and Sierra hadn’t even noticed.
Without a hatch, the fairy glowed less than usual. Queen missed her little fairies. She wanted to have a home again. Sierra knew this because she sensed it. They were becoming more and more entwined, and for once, instead of scaring Sierra, it made her feel she’d been ungrateful for their connection all this time.
She lifted her hand, and Queen landed in Sierra’s cupped palm. She lifted Queen close and whispered, because she needed to say this out loud, “I’m so sorry, Queen. I―”
The words got stuck on her tongue. The I love you Sierra wanted to say wouldn’t slip past her teeth. Old habits died hard.
“I want you to be happy, too,” she murmured, which was the best she could do.
Queen caressed her wings against Sierra’s cheeks and smiled, the fairy’s little golden face charmingly beautiful. She didn’t reply in words, not even in Sierra’s mind. Words were unnecessary. Queen’s forgiveness was there in her smile. Maybe the word ‘keeper’ was the wrong word to use. Sierra wasn’t keeping anything; she was guarding the fairies, perhaps? She wasn’t sure, but certainly if the word keeper was used, it had to go both ways. Her fairy was Sierra’s keeper, too. They were each other’s keeper.
Micah approached, eyes somber. “I did not mean to hurt your feelings with what I said earlier. I understand you had little choice in your life until now. You are a strong, worthy human, deserving of your queen. It’s what you do from here on out that will matter the most.”
Sierra nodded, humbled by the grace he offered. “Thank you. I shouldn’t have kept taking all that nectar for Jack. I knew it upset the fairies, but I didn’t care. I should’ve found a way to change things a long time ago, but I didn’t realize how much I was hurting them. I couldn’t really focus on much else besides getting through each day. But I want to help fix things now. I want to do right
by Queen.”
“And so you shall.”
He squeezed her hand for a moment before returning to the others. Contentment wiped away some of her shame and sadness. Micah and Queen both forgave her. Maybe one day she could forgive herself.
The four travelers took the morning to rest and plan their return strategy. Until now, Sierra hadn’t permitted herself to consider what would happen after reaching this point. Careful planning was necessary, but time was running out. They needed to get home. Now. They’d already lost too much time in the mountain from the unexpected fairy attack. With her newfound affection for Queen, Sierra felt even more reluctant to state this out loud, but her love for her sister hadn’t changed. “Look, this sounds harsh, but I have to get my sister.”
No one looked surprised.
“We’re only a week or so out. Let’s go, act like I’m going to set up a happy hatch and give all the nectar to Jack―”
Queen fluttered, and Sierra waved her down.
“No, no, it’d be pretend, see? We pretend we’re going to do what he wants, but then we’ll take Phoebe and run with Queen.”
“Where to? Where can’t Jack find you?” Corbin asked, kicking a tree trunk.
So her optimistic friend had finally realized this would not be easy. She shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll figure that part out as we go. The important part is to get Phoebe safe.”
Nell looked like she wanted to argue, but then she bit her lip and fell silent. Sierra raised her eyebrow. Nell hushing herself was about as unexpected as her prophecy earlier. Sierra wondered if Nell had even asked herself what she’d do when they got back.
They set off after lunch. The day went quickly once they got moving, with very little conversation, all lost in their own thoughts. That night, Corbin built up a fire twice the size as usual, as if the light would keep back any other potentially deadly creatures. When they voted to take turns keeping watch, Micah said he’d take the first shift.
Relief filled Sierra, surprising her. It wasn’t like her to hand over her safety to someone she barely knew. But she found herself preparing for sleep, fearless of what the night might bring.
Sierra didn’t know when she handed him her trust. So few had it. And here was Micah, not even human, with unknown powers. Trust probably began after the cave but crystallized for sure after he apologized for hurting her feelings. The fact that he could steer away a small dragon didn’t hurt, either.
She looked around the clearing and realized her inner circle of people she’d fight and die for had grown. It used to be only Phoebe and grew to include Corbin during their childhood. That was it. Now, though, Sierra thought Nell might have wriggled her way in. Their time after the quake forced Sierra to admit not everything was so black and white.
She’d fight for Queenie, too. Sierra’s journey to find her fairy was for her sister, but the journey after they saved Phoebe, that was for Queenie…
And when did I start calling her Queenie? Sierra wondered.
The fairy’s giggle floated through Sierra’s mind like silk and made her smile despite herself. Queenie apparently liked the new nickname. And Micah?
Sierra forced herself to meet his eyes, acknowledging to herself, if to no one else, she had feelings for him. Plenty of them. There was true friendship for sure, but there was the potential for more, though she wasn’t really ready to think on those feelings yet. Micah was in a class by himself. Simply being near him made her wish they had all the time in the world to hang out in these woods, where he’d spent so much time. How much did he know about magic that humans had discounted as myth?
But time was not their friend. They had seven days before Phoebe would be sent away to Bentwood. Micah didn’t have a chance against that kind of urgency.
he next morning, they packed up and set off. According to Micah, they’d reach the end of the mountains in the next couple of days. He knew the shortest way down.
Corbin walked near Sierra, eyes darting to her now and then. She waited for him to gather his courage. Sure enough, after a lunch of cold greens and berries, he paced beside her. They walked a long time in silence before he finally spoke.
“I think if we’re going to set the fairies free, we have to start at home. With Jack and his people, because they know us already. We need to get our port to stop using nectar altogether. And they need to let us take our fairies to roam the forest for a while, you know, to sort of replenish the land with magic.” He licked his lips as Sierra stared at him.
“You’ve gone mad,” she said, which was the nicest thing she could think of.
“No, listen! If Nell were to share some of what she’s told us―”
“If you think I’m going to get up in front of the men I work for and tell them they’ve got to stop making Flight, you really have lost your mind.” Nell rolled her eyes.
Corbin dragged his hands through his hair. “Not in front of Jack; in front of the village elders. If we can get our port and villages to let us treat the fairies properly, maybe word will spread to the other keepers. All these queens keep following us. Maybe the keepers will come looking for their queens, and then we can teach them. If all the keepers band together and refuse to be manipulated by the dark alchemists and healers, then what can they do?”
His eyes shined with hope. Sierra could tell he’d spent all morning plotting this coup. Sweet, naive Corbin.
“What can they do?” Sierra didn’t even try to keep the incredulity from her voice. “They can torture us. They can torture people we love.” She sliced her hand through the air like a guillotine. “They’d take Phoebe for sure! Do you want to see your parents hanging in chains, whipped, because you put yourself on a throne and dictated to all the elders how to treat fairies? They think of them like field mice or worse: a bunch of ants. Who cares if ants have rights? Not the elders. They’re too busy taking bubble baths in tubs carved from alabaster and lined with silver.”
She’d never seen such wealth herself, but Jack described it to her once, to suggest she stay friendly with the village elders. They had often paid him to do their dirty work, especially when he was younger. Nell was rising in the alchemy field through being an enforcer, and Sierra’s father had worked his way up performing even rougher duties, the kind involving a knife in the dark.
“But someone has to stand up to them!” Corbin cried.
The girls shared a look. Then Nell stared at the ground.
“Sierra’s right, Corbin.” Her voice was soft, seemingly too soft to go with the sword and muscles, but she managed to balance it all. “I know Jack. If we try to get him to stop his business, even if we swayed the elders, he’d kill us.”
“But he believes he needs Sierra so he can get more nectar. He wouldn’t risk killing a source of nectar!”
“He could kill Phoebe, or Bentwood could,” Sierra pointed out flatly. It was a fact. “We can’t do anything until I have Phoebe safe. Then, Corbin, maybe we can try something, okay? But wait.”
“There are other keepers he can find, keepers who might not care about our message or about changing their ways. If we brought him all these fairies? He’d be in firmer control than ever.” As if to underscore Nell’s point, the cloud of fairies swirled around them, glowing in the fading sunlight.
We run… A thought intruded into Sierra’s mind, and she saw an image of all of them meandering through the forest, through the mountains, into lands she’d never even heard of. The ghostly image floated superimposed over her vision, and she blinked rapidly as it faded.
Queenie leaned against Sierra’s neck, and, all at once, tears pressed against her eyes. If they took off right now, she might as well cut Phoebe’s throat. Sierra would rather cut her own. They couldn’t run until they got Phoebe, at the very least. But say they escaped with her and Queen successfully. If they didn’t try to change the situation in the villages and ports, Nell’s message suggested the world itself would suffer catastrophically. Sierra had heard of a rock and a hard place, but this was painfull
y difficult.
So Sierra did what she did best. She locked the problem away in a corner of her mind to deal with later. As they camped for the night, the last remaining glow of sunset faded. They ate their meal illuminated only by the flickering light of campfire and the golden shine of their fairy queen entourage.
They discussed possible strategies after dinner. Sierra’s top goal was still to save her little sister. Corbin wasn’t willing to risk her life, not even for his beloved fairies. After much debate, they arrived at a fairly simple plan. Sierra would show Jack her queen. He would tell Bentwood that Phoebe wasn’t coming until next year, giving them breathing space from that threat. It would be hard enough to escape Jack. They didn’t need Bentwood searching for them, too. Sierra would set up a hatch for Queenie but wouldn’t actually use it. It’d be a decoy while they gathered supplies and money. Then she’d take Phoebe and run away as quickly as they could, bringing Queen with them. Corbin and Nell would stay behind and act normal for several months, keeping Grace and the rest of the queens secret. With all the other queens away from their keepers, Jack wouldn’t be able to abuse any of them and Nell would pass on anything she heard from Jack’s camp. It was the best any of them could come up with. Queenie even seemed to understand and agree.
If Corbin elected to talk to the elders at Port Ostara after that point, that was his business. Sierra would even come back and help, if she could find a safe place for her sister. It was the closest to a compromise they could reach.
The next morning, Sierra found a spare moment alone with Nell and asked, “What will you do if you start to, you know, talk?”
Sierra raised her eyebrows high when she said “talk” so there was no doubt what she meant.
“Throw myself against a wall?” Nell grimaced.
Sierra snorted. The sound was unexpected in the quiet morning air, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. The boys up ahead looked back quizzically, but she waved at them to keep walking. Again, the decision to not laugh seemed to require she start giggling like a seven year old. Nell started to chuckle as well, and soon they were howling with laughter. Corbin and Micah looked at them as if they had lost their minds, and perhaps they had. But it was much more fun to be crazy with someone else.
