The Drowned Tomb (The Changeling Series Book 2)

by James Fahy

  He glared at them all, eyes bright. “What I want to know is, who are you, Fae with no horns? And what are you doing up on the most barren, empty tundra in the northern wastes?”

  Robin didn’t really have a choice. As they warmed themselves by the fire in Jack’s glowing icy cave, with the soft thunder of the waterfall at their backs and Karya sleeping softly, he told the strange, brittle Fae what he knew. About the Shard of the Arcania, entrusted to the great Undine, Tritea. He explained how the Grimms had been searching for her last resting place, the fabled hidden valley of the Undine, Hiernarbos, and how they had found their way to the secret Janus station purported to lead there. Robin told the boy about the struggle at the underground waystation, and their escape here, to the middle of nowhere.

  “So the Grimms are at Hiernarbos,” Jackalope shrugged. He had listened to their story without interruption or comment, barely looking at them. “I always figured that place was a myth. No one’s seen an Undine since before the war I think, and all the nymphs went over to Eris’ side when the war began. Heartless creatures.” He spat into the fire, which hissed. “They all serve the Dark Empress now.”

  “Not all of them,” Robin said. “One of them came back. She helped me get here.”

  “Helped us get lost in the snow in the middle of nowhere, yeah,” Henry sulked. His school shirt was steaming as it dried in the heat from the campfire.

  “And the Grimms, they are seeking this treasure of the Arcania?” the boy said. “Is it worth much, this treasure?”

  Robin blinked. “It’s a Shard of the Arcania,” he said. “It’s priceless. There are only seven of them in existence. They’re powerful.”

  The Fae looked thoughtful. “My brother and I, when we were little, we were going to be treasure hunters, when we grew up,” he said. “Now, I scavenge. There is some treasure to be found in a snow-rabbit when you’re starving. A year ago, I was bolder, more foolish. I used to raid the old barrows when I found them, looking for loot and treasure. These mountains are riddled with them. Hardly anything ever found, but occasionally I would be lucky. Old coins, a scrap of a beaten silver jug. All things I could trade down in the villages below the snows.” He looked over past the bedrolls, at his meagre supplies piled up. “I never got much for them. Sometimes though, enough to trade for food for a month, maybe two, salted and cured. I wouldn’t have to leave the cave then. To go out there.”

  “You stopped treasure hunting?” Henry asked. “How come?”

  “I saw a Peacekeeper,” Jackalope said. “Vile spawn of Ker. Down in the foothills. It was too risky. I haven’t been off the plateau since then. I don’t want trouble.”

  He looked from Robin to Henry. “And yet trouble, it seems, comes to me. A human and a Fae, soft as butter.” He smirked to himself. “And what is that?” He nodded to Karya, who was still sleeping soundly, though her face, thankfully, had finally started to regain its colour. Robin noticed that the palm of the girl’s left hand looked red and sore, blistered where she had gripped Phorbas’ mana stone.

  “That’s Karya,” Robin said, confused. “She’s with us.”

  “She’s a girl,” Henry explained, in case the strange Fae hadn’t met one before.

  “It looks like a girl, certainly.” Jackalope sniffed. “But it doesn’t smell like anything I’ve ever smelled before.” The Fae had barely glanced at Henry since they had met in the snow, as though humans were below his interest. “Not one of us, fellow Fae, and not a human like your friend here either,”

  “We know she’s not. We’re not really sure to be honest. It doesn’t matter. She’s with us, like I said. She lives with us.” The boy’s attitude was grating on Robin slightly.

  The Fae looked puzzled. “You allow it to remain with you, knowing nothing about it? Are you a complete fool then?”

  Henry sniffed. “He collects strays, Rob does. That’s kind of his thing. We have a faun as well.” He nodded at the older boy. “Careful Jack Frost, or he’ll collect you too. You’ll be living at Erlking in monogrammed slippers before you can say…” He glanced around for inspiration. “Before you can say … goodbye mystical glowy mushroom grotto, hello indoor plumbing.”

  “The Erlking’s Hill is a blasted empty ruin,” Jackalope said. “Our Lord and Lady abandoned us. I have no reason to align myself with a changeling, I just want no trouble here. This is my place.”

  “Yes, you keep saying so,” Robin agreed. He was staring at the prickly frowning boy. He looked hard, like the wind and ice of the mountain had stripped away everything from him, leaving nothing left but what was needed to survive. Maybe it wasn’t the mountains, though, Robin thought. Maybe it was before that, in Dis.

  Jackalope noticed Robin staring at him. “I’ve spent the past few years since I escaped the camps, being very, very careful not to be caught. I keep hidden, I stay away from people. That’s why I’m here in the Gravis Glaciem. It’s a wilderness. No Peacekeepers here. No anyone here. No one to catch me. It’s safe.”

  “Sounds pretty lonely to me,” Robin noted. He stared into the yellow, dancing flames of the campfire. “You know … it’s safe at Erlking too,” Robin began.

  “Oh, here we go,” Henry said with a sigh. “Told you.”

  “I’m not going back to the camps,” the Fae said sharply. “Not ever. I’ll never set foot near Dis again. That place is death.”

  He had spoken so sharply, neither boy replied. Robin wondered about their odd host. He had been alone such a long time, he clearly had issues of his own.

  “I didn’t help you because you’re such charming lovely folk. I just want you off my patch and away from me, as quickly as possible. Don’t bring any trouble here.” He pointed to Karya. “Trouble like that.”

  Robin couldn’t think of anything suitable or comforting to say. It was Henry who spoke. “Look, mate. You saved us and that’s great, I mean really great. We owe you one, a big one. We get that you want to get us out of your hair, and trust me, we have other places we need to get to. One of the Grimms we left face down in the snow, yeah, but the other one has our friend prisoner, and we need to get him back.”

  Henry rolled up the sleeves of his school shirt, still rubbing his hands together in front of the fire. “Plus, when we flipped over to the Netherworlde, before our little magical sidestep across the mountains, we were at this Undine place. The entrance to this secret hidden valley. We had found it, and the Grimm is still there. He’s in charge of an army, right? Believe me, if he gets to the Shard before we do, it will mean trouble for everyone.” He looked around. “And I mean everyone. Even people hiding in deep, mystical caves.”

  The silver-eyed Fae stared into the fire for a while. He blew air out of his nose, irritated.

  “What do you need,” he said eventually, after much quiet consideration. “Other than your enemies vanquished and the shelter I’ve already given you hopeless children already, I mean?”

  Robin bit his tongue at being called a child again. “I don’t know,” he said. “We need to get back to wherever we were when we arrived in the Netherworlde, I guess. That will be Hiernarbos. That’s where Woad is, and the Undine’s secret hideaway.” He looked at the sleeping girl. “I don’t know where that was. She’d know better what to do, but she’s weak right now. I … I shouldn’t have made her do what I did.”

  “It’s not like we had any choice,” Henry said. “She’s not the only one weak right now either, mate, you’ve got bags under your eyes too. And I got smashed across a room by your mental psycho girlfriend remember. We all need a rest, at least until you two get your mystical mojo back.”

  Jackalope stood, reaching for his wolf skin cape. “Your mana is down. You need replenishing. Time will do this alone, but it sounds to me that you do not have as much time as it will take.”

  He fastened his furred cloak around his throat. “I know this area well. There are certain herbs which can aid in speeding your recovery. The firefruit, it grows higher up, in the crags, lots of latent mana trapped in
there. It soaks it up from the northern lights.” He looked thoughtful, frowning seriously. “There might be sourroot too, down by the frozen river. And if all else fails, there are always pixies.”

  “Pixies,” Henry said, deadpan. “As in, small frolicking fairy creatures who wear dresses made from leaves and live in little mushrooms with doors and windows?”

  The Fae frowned at him as though he were an idiot. “No. Pixies as in pixies. Roughly rabbit size, quick as lightening, bundles of furry teeth. Breed like, well, like pixies.”

  He put up the hood of his cloak, hiding his scarred horn stubs. “I’ll return with supplies as soon as I can,” he said. He looked at all three of them suspiciously. “Don’t touch any of my things while I’m gone. And don’t leave the cave. You’ll die in the storm in those ridiculous clothes if you do.”

  He left without another word, picking his way between the huge phosphorous mushrooms.

  “Yeah, okay,” Henry called after him, but only when he was sure the surly boy was out of earshot. “We won’t touch your … well … dried rabbit skin, or any other of your Bear Grylls survival kit. Bloody Robinson Crusoe, don’t worry.”

  He turned back to Robin. “I suppose while tall, grey, and broody there is gone, there’s not much else for us to do but get some rest.”

  But Robin was already asleep, sitting up by the fire. His head nodding on his chest.

  Henry stared for a second, and then, not unkindly, gave the blonde boy a gentle push, sending him toppling backwards to land flat on his back next to Karya by the fire, where he snored loudly.

  Henry sighed, picking up Jackalope’s discarded stick and poking at the fire. “I’ll keep watch then, shall I?”

  MEMORIAM

  Robin awoke some time later, still feeling groggy, but thankfully no longer numb from the cold. It was surprisingly warm in the glittering icy cave. The eldritch blue motion of the waterfall rolled around him as he opened his eyes, disoriented, staring blearily at the countless icicles overhead on the distant ceiling. Karya was awake, sitting by the flames, and Henry had wandered down to the pool, where he was filling a few small pots with water. Of Jackalope the Fae, there was still no sign. He hadn’t yet returned.

  Robin had no way of knowing how long he had been asleep. It had felt like a long time. The narrow tunnel which led to the outside world was hidden by the glowing fungus on the far side of the pool. He had no idea if it was day or night out there.

  Pushing himself up on his elbows, he greeted Karya, who looked sleepy, but otherwise, thankfully, fine. He apologised for making her use mana from Phorbas’ dagger.

  “There’s no point being sorry about it,” she replied, in her usual no-nonsense manner. “It was a good idea. It stopped us from being killed. Though I have to say I won’t be doing that again anytime soon. Using mana that isn’t yours is…” She looked around the huge cavern, searching for words as she sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, “ … intense.” She shook her head. “It’s like singing with someone else’s voice, or dancing with another person’s feet. Very weird and extremely difficult. Where is the one who saved us?”

  “Herb gathering. Or pixie, I’m not sure.” Karya arched her eyebrows. “I don’t know how to feel about him.” he said. “He doesn’t seem to think much of us.” He told Karya what the boy had imparted to them, about his past in the camps.

  “If he’s spent time in Dis as a Fae,” Karya reasoned. “It’s understandable he’d be wary. Not many escape the camps. The very fact that he did at all is impressive. I can’t say I blame him for becoming a hermit out here. I’d probably hide too, if that were an option for me.” She sighed. “Sadly, it’s not.”

  She rubbed her temples, still evidently a little sore. “Rude and defensive as he might be, from what you say, he did rescue us, however grudgingly. He could have just kept out of it, passed on, and left us to the mercy of Peryl. He didn’t, despite his insistence that he wants to just be left alone. That seems rather heroic to me.”

  Henry snorted from the side of the pool. “Yeah, and the fact he’s all broody and good-looking has nothing to do with it, I suppose.”

  “I didn’t say he was good-looking, did I?” Karya said tartly.

  “Older fellas, eh?” Henry muttered, filling his pots by the water. “Yeah, he’s a complete minger, what with those steely, brooding eyes and that wild, luscious grey hair blowin’ about in the breeze. I’m sure you haven’t noticed.” They heard him chuckling.

  Karya turned her nose in the air, ignoring his teasing. “We’ve brought him trouble he didn’t want or need, that’s the important thing,” she said to Robin. “If it wasn’t for him, Peryl would probably have killed us all in her madness – you included, Scion. Eris would have destroyed her for that, of course, but I don’t think she was thinking about it at the time. She doesn’t seem like the most reasonable Grimm I’ve ever met.”

  Robin frowned at her, deeply doubting that any of the Grimms could be called ‘reasonable’.

  “How many of the Grimms have you met?” he asked.

  “All of them.” She shrugged. “There are seven Grimms. Strife is their leader, kind of. First amongst equals as it were. Though he isn’t the oldest. Each one is worse than the last.”

  Robin wondered about her. Jackalope’s observations regarding the strange girl were still rolling around his head. She looked serious and worried, as usual.

  “It’s kind of beautiful here,” he said. He looked at Karya, indicating the cavern around them. “You know, peaceful, safe. You should take time to appreciate these things. You’re always so business-like.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she said, glaring at him with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. “You’re the one so focused on the mission. I’m just trying to keep us all alive.”

  Robin rolled his eyes. “Well, we are alive, so you might as well relax for a bit, even if it’s just until that guy gets back. We all need to be at full strength. We want Woad back, but going after him half-cocked is not going to help anyone.”

  Karya pursed her lips primly. “I’ve been running from Mr Strife and his skrikers for a long time, Scion, before I met you and agreed to stay at Erlking Hall and watch over you. Since then, I have been working day and night on this silly translation your aunt seems so invested in. Believe me, I am used to being exhausted. And more importantly, I am used to being alert, which is why I am still around and living free, not languishing in some dungeon in Dis.” She shivered a little.

  “What exactly is Dis?”

  “Eris’ city,” Karya explained. “The City of Dis is the capital of all the Netherworlde. It’s where the dark Empress set up her seat of power after she won the war.”

  She sneered. “I’m sure she would have liked to have ruled from Erlking, as the Fae king and queen had before her, but they saw to that before they disappeared. Even if your guardian Irene wasn’t looking after the place, Eris can’t harness Erlking. Too much power there. Too many enchantments. It’s what infuriates her most.” She smiled with grim satisfaction.

  “Well, you can relax here for a moment, surely,” he said. “What’s going to happen to us in here?” he reasoned. She sat grumpily for a few moments.

  They watched Henry at the water’s edge. The boy was humming a little tune to himself.

  “I’m not serious all the time, you know,” she said after a while, slightly petulantly. “I know you and Henry think I’m an absolute snit. But I’m not.”

  “No?” he grinned.

  “There was frolicking and times were light-hearted once. All through the Netherworlde. I remember how it used to be,” she continued. “Everything changes.”

  “I thought this war had gone on for a hundred years?” Robin asked. “How would you know what it was like before? You’re what … eleven years old?”

  Karya glanced at him briefly. The light from the glowing mushrooms made her eyes more silver than gold. “Things are … complicated for me,” she murmured. “It’s hard for me to explain in
a way you’d be able to understand.”

  “Give it a shot,” Robin said dryly. “I’ll let you know if my head explodes. Come on, Karya. I’ve known you almost a year now. Trust me.”

  “I can remember things from long before I was born,” she revealed with a sigh. “Sometimes … sometimes, I remember things that haven’t happened yet. It’s part of what … who … I am.” She sniffed, looking down at her hands. “It can be quite confusing sometimes actually.”

  “You see the future?” Robin blinked in surprise.

  Karya shook her head. “Not really. I don’t scry like the Oracle. But sometimes, the future … I remember it. It’s much more complex than you’d think though. The future hasn’t happened yet you see. So the things I see, when I see them, are like echoes or shadows. Sometimes, I remember things that are going to happen and sometimes I remember things that might happen, but won’t, or don’t. I remember things from the past as well that didn’t happen but might have.” She shook her head, as though to dislodge the thoughts. “And sometimes, if this doesn’t mess your little head up too much, I remember the present as it happens, only different to how it’s actually happening. Other ways things might be going. As though there are countless stories all playing at the same time, and I can flick between them.”

  Robin’s brain was hurting.

  “It’s part of the reason I can tear through from our world to yours and back, without using a Janus station,” Karya said. “No one else can do that, not even Eris herself. I don’t know why I can do it, not really. I only know that I can.”

  “This is why Strife was after you?” Robin said quietly, realising at last. “Back when we first met, I mean? You saw something happen, in the future, or the past, didn’t you? With this strange sight of yours. Something Eris wants to know about. Like a vision, a prophecy?”

  Karya stiffened slightly. She frowned over at the waterfall. “Something in the future … and the past, yes,” she said. “I can’t do it on demand. It’s more like an affliction than a skill. An uncontrollable sneeze. It happens when it wants to, not when I want it to. And I can’t stop it either.”