I gave Silas a short nod, which he rightly interpreted by flying off. We bypassed the clusters of portals that gleamed like upturned compact discs, reflecting the different locations they led to, then dipped toward the base of a calimbor. He landed, and I followed his lead. My landing wasn’t smooth. I had to dig my bare heels into the moss to bring myself to a full stop. I was out of practice.
If Ace had been here, he would’ve made such fun of me.
Thinking of my brother made my spine turn as solid as the trunk of the giant tree. Silas led me straight through the door at the base. If I wasn’t mistaken, it used to house a candy shop. My brother must’ve requisitioned the calimbor and turned it into a government facility. I wondered where the candy shop had gone? Higher up? Could ground-dwellers inhabit the upper floors now?
Before entering, I took in the spirals and thought back on my idea of adding ziplines between the trunks. After the portal stamp was fixed, I would work on this.
With Kajika.
My heart performed a small pirouette.
I’d been gone two weeks. I imagined someone had been keeping him and my brother up to date on my state. As I passed through the wide door set in the trunk, I bumped into a girl.
“Gatizogin,” she said, before her mouth slackened and her slanted brown eyes became almost round.
I smiled. You are excused, Magena, I thought, not that she would hear me.
“Lily! Gejaiwe, you are alive!”
She thought I was dead? I felt my eyebrows writhe. Did I even still have eyebrows, or had they fallen out along with my hair? I touched my forehead. They were still there, and so were my lashes.
“We didn’t dare speak of your condition in case—” Silas tightened the leather tie binding his ponytail. “In case…”
In case I didn’t make it.
Footsteps resonated in the circular, cavernous hull of the tree. Five floors had been removed so the room stretched up and up. Only narrow balconies housing ribbon-like benches remained where the floors had once been. Faelights drifted around the dim space, casting more shadows than light.
“Lily Wood, in the flesh. Never thought I’d see you again.” Gregor strode toward me, his black, fitted tunic making him one with the darkness.
You mean, you hoped you would never see me again, I signed.
Too lazy to learn sign language, my father had ordered his right-hand man to study it so he could act as translator.
Gregor smiled, and it crinkled his eyes and mouth. He’d aged in the last five months. I guessed it wasn’t due to the passing time—I’d only been gone a Neverrian month—but rather, to the new regime. Just because my brother had kept him on as wariff didn’t mean Ace was making Gregor’s life easy.
“Believe it or not, I’m glad to see you, Lily,” he said.
I didn’t believe him.
He looked hurt, and the guarded expression reminded me of Remo. Remo. I would get to hold him soon.
“I need to meet with Negongwa, but I will see you later, Lily,” Magena said, sidestepping me. She swung around more than once on her way out, her short black hair bobbing around her ears.
“Shall we begin?” Gregor asked, gesturing to the entrance.
I nodded, and we returned to the air field of portals.
“Pick one.”
I soared up a hundred feet into the sky until I found the one that led to the boathouse.
“I should’ve figured you’d pick this one. Now set your hand on it.”
I touched the slick surface, and my portal stamp flashed to life, but the portal didn’t soften. Gregor produced a thumb-sized gold acorn from his tunic pocket.
Before he could begin, I lifted my hand and signed, Does Ace know I’m alive?
“He knows your body stayed whole, but he doesn’t know you’ve woken up. Unless one of the courtiers traveled to Neverra. I heard your presence caused quite a stir this morning.”
Can someone tell him before you mess with the lock?
“Ye of little faith.” He clucked his tongue. “Now hold still so I can get to work.”
I replaced my hand on the portal.
Gregor had always been cocky. As his forehead pleated in concentration, I prayed his cockiness wasn’t overconfidence but true skill. He held the acorn over the portal and tugged on the short stem. A beam appeared from the bottom of the golden tree nut. Not a beam…a projection. A hot-pink pattern that matched the stamp on his wrist.
Carefully, Gregor spun the top and the frame encasing the pattern changed, curved. Then he spun the middle part, and the pattern nearest the outer curve—not yet a circle—changed. And then he twisted the bottom half, and the innermost array of lines swirled and set. The projection in no way matched the one on my wrist.
As the sky dimmed, faeries tried to approach us, but Silas kept them back. When a crowd formed, Gregor cursed in Faeli, then let out a shrill whistle, and a regiment of lucionaga streamed from the assembly hall.
“Tell them to get these voyeurs out of here, Silas,” Gregor barked, and the draca obeyed. Soon we were alone again.
My fingers started to become numb from their inertia, but I didn’t move them. The sun set, and the sky turned periwinkle. Astriums appeared in glittery streaks, and I marveled as though seeing them for the first time.
“Some people believe that those stars are the spirits of dead faeries.”
I glanced at Gregor.
“Some people…” he repeated. “Not me. I wouldn’t believe such a foolish theory.”
I smiled at the wariff who was still twisting and turning, making the slightest of adjustments to each cog. The pink projection was starting to resemble my stamp in that it was now a circle. However, within that circle was a scattering of tiny etchings, not five distinct lines.
“How do you like your new house?” he asked a long moment later.
I frowned.
“Where you woke up…it’s your new house. The queen had it built it for you.” He lifted his hazel gaze to my face, but then lowered it again. “The larger one next to it is hers and Ace’s. She offered to have one built for me, but I much prefer living at the apex of my calimbor. I can keep a better eye on Neverra from up there.”
He let out a short breath, and I looked down, fearing the circle he’d managed to attain had somehow turned octagonal, but it was still round. The reason he’d gasped was because he’d managed to create one line.
One out of the five.
Sweat beaded from his tawny sideburns, tracked down his angular jaw.
“Every courtier wants a house on the Pink Sea now, but Ace isn’t allowing anyone else to live there. You should see the fortunes some people are willing to pay. I suggested they use all that money and head out to Tahiti and rent out one of those luxury houses on stilts. Way less macabre than swimming over an ancient prison if you ask me.”
Gregor was rambling. Surprisingly, I didn’t mind. It kept my mind occupied and it answered many of my questions.
“Yes,” he murmured as twinkling faelights began to blink off in calimbor windows.
Neverra was going to sleep.
I looked down at the pink pattern. He’d managed to shape a second line.
“Your mother wanted to see you,” he said after another lengthy silence.
My mother wanted to see me?
That was a first.
“Ace still has her on lockdown in his old apartment. She asked that you visit her.”
I passed my hand through my hair, or at least through what was left of it. I patted the soft fuzz. This new hairdo would take some getting used to. I couldn’t remember a time I’d worn my locks in any other fashion than long.
My fingers struck the dandelion clover. I untucked it and twirled it, watching the fluctuating colors. Gregor glanced at the flower.
“Cruz was a quixotic man.”
Was… Pain fired across my breastbone. I pressed the flower against my nose and pulled its scent deep into me, and somehow, it cooled the blistering ache. Carefully, I rep
laced the clover behind my ear.
A stillness enveloped the world at nightfall, which was the reason it had always been my favorite moment of the day. When I was little, I would fly out my window toward the palace’s floating garden and lie on the moss to look up at the astriums. Often, I would fall asleep there and be awakened by my brother returning to the palace at an indecent hour, or by a huffing Veroli.
“Three down, two to go,” Gregor murmured. He sounded as though he could hardly believe he was succeeding. “When you see your brother, tell him I want a raise and a medal. In that order.”
I snorted, and his lips contorted into a smile. To think Gregor Farrow had a sense of humor… Unless he was serious? Maybe he truly wanted a medal and raise, in which case he was a pompous ass. Then again, if he succeeded, I was certain he could ask anything of my brother.
I sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly realizing exactly what he would ask for—the abolishment of the law that prevented him from bringing his daughter and grandson to Neverra.
My intake of air made him look up, and then he glanced around the vast darkness. The faerie sentries bobbed in a wide circle around us.
Dropping his voice to a whisper, he asked, “How are…” He snuck a glance over his shoulder. Only Silas was close enough to hear, but he didn’t seem particularly interested by our conversation. “How are they?”
A slow smile crept across my features.
With the hand that wasn’t splayed on the portal, I formed the letters of Remo’s name, then touched my index and middle finger to my lips and curled the tips to form the word, cute.
“I heard. What sort of name is Remo anyway?” he huffed.
I laughed. Gregor smirked, but his expression was pliant. Oh, he was going to love his grandson, name and all.
Never in a thousand years would I have expected to feel anything but antipathy toward the wariff, but there I was, feeling something. When Cruz and Ace had told me Gregor was joining in their fight, I was certain he would backstab both. Had he simply acted like a heartless tyrant to impress my father?
“Four,” Gregor announced. He dug the heel of one of his hands into his eye sockets, then blinked. His eyes were probably stinging from concentration and fatigue.
Mine weren’t stinging, but then again, I’d slept enough to last me a Neverrian week.
I watched the monochromatic isle fill with color as the sun peeked over the mountains. And then I lost sight of the land as my body swayed and fell hand first inside the portal.
Gregor had done it!
41
The Boathouse
I tumbled into the boathouse gracelessly, knocking my head and shoulders against the wooden bench. I half expected my brother to snicker, but my brother wasn’t there. No one was there. I stood up and dusted my hands on my white gown, and then I strode through the empty boathouse, stepping right into a mound of deep snow.
As soon as it hit my ankles, it began to evaporate. I wanted to laugh, but then I spotted an elderly couple trudging down the beach with their dog. Considering the weather and the steam rising from my skin, I must’ve looked like I’d just escaped a kooky house.
I brushed my dust over my legs to cloak the steam but didn’t bother changing the appearance of my white dress. Instead, I skipped through the snow toward the forest like a wild doe. Once entrenched in the tall pines, I checked my surroundings and leaped off the ground, hurtling through the air toward Kajika’s house.
I landed on the deck that was also covered in several inches of snow. I raised my fist to knock but stopped, knuckles millimeters from the wood. What would he think of me? How did I even look? I suddenly became a self-conscious mess, but then I pumped steel into my spine and knocked.
A different hairdo didn’t shut off your feelings for someone.
When the door opened, I let out the breath I’d been holding.
Menawa rubbed a fist into sleep-filled eyes, which made me wonder what time it was. The sky was light, which meant it mustn’t have been too early. He pried his lids higher, forehead scrunched. Did he not recognize me? Magena had recognized me the instant she’d seen me. Then again, women were more observant than men.
My identity must’ve finally registered because his eyes became as round as the heads of the dandelion clover still tucked behind my ear. “Lily?”
I nodded eagerly.
“Y-You are back…and alive.”
I didn’t nod. Both were self-evident.
He raked his hands through his silky black hair. “Kajika is not here.”
I frowned.
“He left for New York yesterday. His agent entered him in an apparently very significant tournament. UFC? KFC? Something of the sort.”
I smiled. I didn’t think Kajika would be fighting in a fried chicken tournament.
He touched my shoulder. “I do not know if it would be wise of you to go looking for him. For some time, he has been…bothered.”
I cocked an eyebrow. Had Kajika not told his brother about us? Was that what was bothering the hunter? Or was it something else entirely? Regret?
Gwenelda padded to her husband’s side. The second she saw me, recognition flared in her dark eyes. “The lock has been fixed?”
I’d forgotten they’d been stranded here. I nodded.
She sucked in a breath, then gripped Menawa’s forearm. “We must go back. Today. We must go back today! Father must be desperate to see us.”
“We cannot leave my brother,” Menawa said.
“He can come with us now. Besides, he will not return until tomorrow. We can be back by then.”
“Gwen—”
She placed a finger against his lips. “We will not be gone long.” But then, as though remembering I was still there, she said, “Perhaps Lily could inform Kajika that the portals are fixed.”
Was she suggesting what I thought she was suggesting?
“I am sure Lily Wood has more important things to do than collect my celebrity brother.”
Gwen’s high cheekbones rose with a placid smile. “Twa,” she said.
Kajika hadn’t taught me much Gottwa, but that word came back to me: men.
Twa indeed.
“Better hurry. His match begins when the sun sets, and it has been setting early.”
As I took off, I heard Menawa asking his wife why she’d suggested I go fetch his brother. I didn’t wait to hear her answer. I soared toward the graveyard.
I would never have thought that the sight of headstones could make me happy, but they did. I landed on the porch, a tad bit more elegantly than earlier, then worked on evening my frantic breathing. Slowly, I spun the handle, and the door creaked open.
Derek had taken to locking the door at night, but not during the day. Odds were my brother and sister-in-law wouldn’t be in the house. The distinct scent of something roasting filled the house, as well as a steady stream of classical music. I started walking through the living room when the sound of a voice halted me in my tracks.
“What time do you thing you’ll be home tomorrow?” Cat asked someone.
She was here!
I rushed toward the kitchen.
“Lily!” My brother leaped to his feet, his chair skidding backward.
Cat’s whisk fell against the kitchen counter, splashing her with gravy.
Ace lunged toward me but stopped inches from my body, blue eyes aglow. Finally, he smiled. “Nice haircut.”
I flicked his arm, and then he wrapped that arm and his other one around me. And then Cat squeezed between us.
Someone had started crying—loud, raucous snuffling. I thought it was me, but it turned out to be Cat. “Oh, Lily,” she croaked.
“Cat, don’t choke her. We just got her back.”
I laughed.
She laughed. And then she ugly-cried some more.
“You might want to get changed before Derek comes back from his late lunch at Bee’s. He might think you’ve gone off and married someone if he sees you in a white gown.”
I would
n’t be staying that long. Not this time. I would most definitely come back to see Derek, though.
Cat slowly pressed away from me, and then she smiled, and smiled, lips wobbling. Ace gripped her shoulders that had started shaking too.
“She has been a bit emotional lately,” he said, as though I wouldn’t be able to tell from her blotchy face. “Lily, did Gregor— Are the portals—”
Of course. That’s what I’d rushed over to tell them! I nodded frantically. Ace released a sigh that filled the entire kitchen, and then Cat spun around and clasped her arms around his neck.
Go, I signed.
My brother kissed Cat’s forehead, then looked at me. “Aren’t you coming back with us?”
My pulse hammered against my ribs. Not yet.
I waited for my brother to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stood there, regarding me with his jaw set. He knew where I was going, and he still didn’t approve. It hurt. I turned my back, refusing to let my brother’s opinion spoil my mood, and marched to my old bedroom. Until I pushed through the door, I hadn’t even considered whether my belongings would still be there. They were. Derek hadn’t gotten rid of me.
It somewhat lifted my mood. I opened my closet door and tossed an outfit on the bed, and then I dug through the boot in which I’d stuck my cell phone. I turned it on, then marveled when the screen lit up. It still had battery. Unbelievable…
Still, I plugged it into a socket as I changed out of my white gown and into a more appropriate outfit—gray suede leggings and a white silk top that draped off one of my shoulders. I added my black knee-high boots…the ones with the spiky heels.
I felt a thrill zipping them up, perhaps because I never thought I’d see them, much less wear them ever again. I stopped by my bathroom next—my bathroom—and grinned, but the grin vanished from my face when I took in my reflection.
Without hair…without hair, I looked…odd. I removed the dandelion clover from behind my ear. It had wilted anyway, just like my mood. I laid it on the little vanity shelf, next to a bottle of perfume I’d bought in Paris, then I clutched the edge of the sink and gaped at the girl in the mirror.
I could create hair from wita, but Kajika could see through my dust. I could buy a wig, but wigs were so ugh.
Raging Rival Hearts Page 24
