Rebel Faerie

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Rebel Faerie Page 4

by Rachel Morgan


  I cross my arms. “Your sarcasm isn’t helping.”

  “Blaming yourself doesn’t help either.” She looks up through the nearly transparent dome layer at the stars as she lets out a long sigh. “You know what, Em? Everyone makes mistakes. And trust me on this: the mistakes you’ve made don’t come close to some of the terrible things the other members of your family have done—including me. But you can’t dwell on the things you’ve done wrong.” She places her arm around my shoulders and pulls me against her side as we keep walking. “If you can fix them, then you fix them. If you can’t, then you move on.”

  I watch my feet as my tired legs move me step by step toward one of the giant trees, and I decide then that I will do whatever it takes to fix the things I’ve done wrong.

  Three

  “A sword?” I narrow my eyes at the straight-bladed weapon Calla holds out to me after breakfast the following morning. We’re in the kitchen, which seems like far too ordinary a setting for the pile of weapons that just sailed through the air from another room and landed on the table. “What do you want me to do with that?” I ask as I reach tentatively for it.

  “I’m going to teach you how to use it, along with some basic combat magic.”

  A snort of laughter escapes me, but I stop when I realize she isn’t joining in. “Oh, you’re being serious?”

  “Of course.”

  I fit both hands around the hilt, adjusting my grip a few times before gently swinging the sword between us. “But you said you don’t want me involved in any rescue plan.”

  “Yes, that’s what I said.” She takes the sword from me, places it on the kitchen table, and hands me a different one with a slightly curved blade. “But I know you’re not going to listen to me. There’s a stubborn streak running through our family, and clearly you haven’t escaped it.”

  I twist the sword this way and that, watching the way the light reveals faint patterns engraved on the blade. “Look, it’s not that I’m stubborn, it’s just that I know my ability can help. If I’d listened to you back on Velazar Island, the veil would probably never have been closed.”

  “True.” She takes the curved sword and gives me one with a shorter, wider blade. “I recognize the value of your ability. I know it can be useful, but I also don’t want to risk losing you.”

  “But I—”

  “So maybe we can come up with a way for you to be involved in this rescue plan from a distance. You can say something that will make it easier for us to break in, but I want you to be far enough from the facility that you’re not at risk of being caught.”

  I consider this compromise. “Okay. I suppose that could work if I’m close enough for my magic to reach the outside of the prison. But don’t you think you’ll need my ability once you get inside?”

  “Not enough to risk you getting caught by someone, having your mouth taped shut, and not being able to say a thing to help yourself or anyone else.”

  I sigh. “And here I was thinking I’d become slightly less useless by being able to control when and how much of my ability I use. But I’d be just as useless if someone got close enough to cover my mouth.”

  “And that’s why you need to learn some other skills. Self-defense, combat magic, a few weapons.” Calla replaces the sword in my hands with a metal star. Six deadly blades make up its six points. “I wish I could tell you that you don’t need to learn to protect yourself, but your life is probably never going to be completely safe. Whenever you leave the oasis, you’ll be at risk. Especially if you end up in the same line of work as the rest of your family—which makes me sick with worry to think about, but I’d understand if you want to do that.”

  I touch my finger to one of the star’s sharpened points. “You mean … putting my life at risk to help people I don’t even know?”

  “Yes, pretty much.”

  “Hmm. I’m not sure about that.” I place the throwing star on the table beside the various swords and knives. “I would have done anything to help my mother—Dani, I mean—but aside from that, my self-preservation instincts are pretty strong. I’m not really in the habit of voluntarily putting my own life at risk. Which, you know …” I shrug. “I think is the kind of response you’d get from most normal people.”

  “From most normal people, yes. I just thought you might be more on the risk-taking side of normal. You certainly put your life at risk when you decided to stay on Velazar so you could tell the veil to close.”

  I roll my eyes because that was completely different and she knows it. “Calla, that was two whole worlds that were at risk if I didn’t do something.”

  “Yep.” She nods. “Two worlds and a whole lot of strangers that meant absolutely nothing to you.”

  I throw my hands up. “Are you trying to encourage me to follow in my parents’ footsteps? I thought you just said the idea makes you sick with worry.”

  Her laugh is easy, natural. The kind of laugh I don’t think I’ve heard in ages. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything more after that.” She leans her hip against the edge of the table. “So, shall we go outside where there’s more space and play around with some swords?”

  “Oh. Uh …” I send a wary glance toward the table’s contents.

  “Wooden training swords, of course,” she adds. “I just got these out to show you how pretty they are.”

  “Pretty. Uh huh.” I cross my arms and bite my lip. “Look, it’s not that I’m against this kind of thing. In fact, it would be pretty cool to learn how to use a sword and engage in magical combat. It’s just that right now feels like the absolute worst time. How can we hang out in this tiny piece of paradise playing with wooden swords when our family is being tortured! Don’t you feel like we should be doing something?”

  She raises both eyebrows. “Of course I feel that way. Believe me, I’m trying not to tear my hair out I’m so desperate to get out there and free all our people. Why do you think I’m trying to distract myself with things like beginner sword lessons?” She gestures to the table before letting out a long sigh. “But waiting is necessary, Em. If I go to Noxsom alone, it will be almost impossible to get everyone out. As Gaius said, we need to plan this properly. Failure isn’t an option.”

  “But how long will we have to wait before the rest of your friends return to help you? And what exactly is happening to Vi and Ryn in the meantime? Gaius said something about a torture simulation. What did he mean?”

  “I …” She looks away. “I’m not completely sure.”

  “Really? Or are you only saying that because you want to keep the details from me?”

  She returns her gaze to me. “Look, I’ve only heard rumors, and I’m not going to repeat them to you because there’s no point in you worrying about things that could very possibly be untrue.” She shrugs free of her jacket and leaves it hanging over the back of a chair. “Now, are you going to sit up here on your own and worry about everything, or would you like to pass the time more constructively by learning how not to die when you find yourself in a fight?”

  With a sigh and a roll of my eyes, I say, “I guess I’ll go with the not dying option.”

  She smiles. “Always a good choice.” She leaves the kitchen, and the pile of weapons rises from the table and dutifully follows her.

  Without warning, a section of the tabletop detaches itself from the rest of the table and rises up. I step back with an involuntary gasp, but it’s only some form of oversized stick insect, almost the exact color and texture of the table. “Flip,” I murmur, placing a hand against my chest. Then the stick insect changes shape, becoming a blue rabbit a moment later. I groan. “Seriously, Bandit? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He stands up on his hind legs. One ear twitches. Then he hops off the table, shifting into a black cat before reaching the floor. He slinks away into another room. “Okay then,” I say. “Whatever.”

  “What was that?” Calla asks, returning with two wooden longswords.

  “Nothing. Just talking to Bandit. He seems t
o enjoy sneaking around and surprising me. Oh, hey,” I add, noticing her bare arms, “didn’t you have more tattoos when I first met you?”

  She stretches her arms out and examines them. “Yes, I think I did. They were temporary. Real, but temporary.” She lowers her arms and heads for the door that leads outside. “Chase used to be a tattoo artist. He draws new patterns on my arms every few weeks.”

  “Cool.” I follow her outside. “Is that a magical thing?”

  “Actually, no. It’s the magical ones that are permanent for us. The normal kind—the way you’d get a tattoo in the human world—end up being temporary. Our bodies’ magic slowly gets rid of the ink.”

  “Interesting.” I look down to the ground far below as we begin descending the tree’s spiral staircase. “So, uh, is Jack around?” I ask, referring to the boy I’m now supposed to think of as my little brother. I never imagined having a sibling, so applying the label ‘brother’ to anyone is incredibly strange. “I didn’t hear anyone inside Vi and Ryn’s house when I walked past it this morning, and I assume they wouldn’t leave him on his own, would they?”

  Calla shakes her head. “Jack and Filigree stay with another family here whenever Vi and Ryn are away at the same time. So he hasn’t suspected yet that anything’s wrong. We won’t tell him unless …” She hesitates for only a moment before continuing. “We won’t tell him at all. We won’t need to because Vi and Ryn will be home soon.”

  “Do you think … should I tell him who I am? Or should I wait for Vi and Ryn to explain it? Maybe I should wait,” I add hastily, before she can suggest otherwise. “It will probably make more sense coming from them.”

  “Yes, maybe that would be easier. Oh, look, the Millingjays are back.” Calla points across the grass to where a man and woman have just entered the oasis. “Now we’re only waiting for Chase and Kobe.”

  As the Millinjays head for the base of one of the other enormous trees, my gaze moves upward and travels over the numerous small houses nestled among the branches. “So the rest of the people here,” I say to Calla, “they don’t fight? They can’t help us?”

  “No. They’re here because they were hunted by the Guild and we offered them refuge. They asked for safety, not a fight. They’re … well, they’re just Griffin Gifted, not Griffin rebels.”

  “Do you guys actually call yourselves that?”

  We step onto the grass, and Calla smiles as she hands me my training sword. “We do, actually. At first, I hated it when the Guild labeled us rebels. But after a while, I figured we should go with it. Claim it as a badge of honor. We’re rebelling against a system that should change, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s something we should be proud of. So yes.” She swings her sword back and forth a few times. “I’m a rebel.”

  I take a few steps back and try to mimic her movements with the sword. “I’m from a family of rebels,” I tell myself. “That’s actually pretty cool.”

  “It certainly is. Even my parents—your grandfather and my mother—have rebelled in their own way. They knew I had a Griffin Ability and they chose not to register me on the Griffin List. Not only that, but your grandfather also bribed important people to keep my name off the list, since there were several incidents during my childhood that indicated there was something different about me. But the Guild eventually found out, and my parents received some prison time.”

  “Jeez. Exactly how many people in our family have been to prison?”

  “Uh, most of us, now that I think about it,” she says with a laugh.

  “You too?”

  “Yes, although that definitely wasn’t the legal type of imprisonment.” She looks down, hiding her expression from me before quietly adding, “I’ll tell you about it some time.”

  “And you’re going to tell me about everyone else in my family, right? I mean, other than the things you’ve already told me.”

  “Of course. Later, though. Right now—” she pokes my chest lightly with the tip of her training sword “—you need to focus on everything I’m about to show you.” She places one foot ahead of the other and bends her knees slightly. “You’re going to start by standing like this.”

  As Calla begins by showing me some of the basic footwork, I try to free my mind of every worry that’s plagued my thoughts since we escaped the shadow world. Vi and Ryn, Roarke, the Guild, Ada and Dani …

  Block it all out, I tell myself. At first, I assume it will be difficult, but I find it’s a relief to focus fully on something else. My feet moving backward and forward. The smooth wooden hilt beneath my palm. The weight of the sword. The sound it makes sweeping through the air. The dull crack when it meets Calla’s sword, and the vibrations that travel up my arms.

  Calla demonstrates a basic sequence of movements, which we practice in painful slow motion before speeding things up. When I’m beginning to feel a little more confident, I tell her to show me how fast she can really move. I get ready to do my utmost best to defend myself—and she knocks my sword to the ground and pretend-stabs me in about two seconds.

  “Wonderful,” I mutter as I rub my wrist. “Learning how not to die isn’t going so well.”

  “Hey, don’t get grumpy. You can’t expect to be an expert after only half an hour. You’re actually doing quite well for your first lesson.”

  “Thanks. But if an opponent showed up right now, all I’d be able to do is savagely swing and strike and hope for the best.”

  “Well, that’s better than nothing.” She bends her knees. “Now get into position and let’s try again.”

  “Fiiiiine.” Instead of bending to retrieve my fallen sword, I focus for a moment on letting some of my Griffin Abilty’s magic slip out. “Sword, come to my hand,” I say in my magically deepened voice. A moment later, it does. “Just practicing control,” I tell Calla. “Releasing my power in small amounts at a time instead of losing it all at once.”

  “Ah. Good idea. If you want to practice more, even after you’ve run out of power, you can use some of that elixir. The stuff that stimulates your Griffin Ability.”

  “Oh yes, I forgot about that.” I swing the wooden sword a few times before pausing. “Although … when I came back to get Dani so Zed could reverse the changeling spell, I took those three vials that Ana made for me. The ones that were in Vi and Ryn’s kitchen. And now they’re in a room inside the castle in the shadow world. So there goes that idea.”

  “Oh.” Calla frowns. “I’m pretty sure Vi asked Ana to make more for you. I think you’ll find a couple vials if you look in Vi and Ryn’s kitchen again.”

  “Okay, cool. I’ll practice a bit later and use some elixir if I happen to run out of power.”

  “Perhaps use it sparingly, though,” she adds. “Ana’s the only one who knows how to make it, and she’s stuck inside Noxsom at the moment.” Calla bends her knees again and brandishes her sword. “Okay, are we just going to stand here chatting, or are we doing this?”

  My attention shifts to someone in the distance. “Hey, is that Gaius coming over here?”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Are you trying to make me look away so you can disarm me?”

  “No, I’m serious.” I point with my sword. “I think he’s coming this way.”

  She turns around. “Oh. You’re right. Must be something serious if he’s left his house.” She starts walking toward him.

  “Is he sick?” I ask as I catch up to her. “I think I remember Jack saying something about him not going out much.”

  “He unfortunately isn’t very well. His Griffin Ability makes him sick. It never used to, but he’s quite old now, and it seems to have taken a toll on him. He can remove others’ Griffin Abilities,” she adds as I’m about to ask. “Remove them, give them back, transfer them into other objects. He used to do it for people who didn’t want to deal with their Griffin Abilities anymore.”

  “Wow, that sounds really useful for someone like me who’s tired of being hunted by the Guild and everyone else.”

  “Yes. It was ve
ry useful. But it began to make him ill. I think having so many different kinds of magic flowing in and out of his body sapped his strength. We didn’t realize what was making him ill for a long time, so he kept using his ability and he kept getting worse. By the time we figured out the connection, it was almost too late for him. He managed to recover, but he’s a lot weaker now, and I don’t think he’ll ever be the way he was before.”

  “Does he still have all the abilities he took before he got sick? Oh, wait, are those the abilities you guys were talking about last night?”

  “Yes. He never kept any of the abilities he removed. He always transferred them into inanimate objects for safekeeping, just in case people change their minds and came back for them. So we have a whole bank of these abilities.”

  I lift my sword and rest it on my shoulder. “Sounds useful.”

  “It is. Except that sometimes things go wrong when you try to use someone else’s Griffin Ability. Hey, Gaius,” she says brightly as we reach him. “What’s up? Please don’t tell me something else has gone wrong.”

  Gaius’s expression gives nothing away. He holds a slim piece of amber out to Calla. “Here’s the new amber you asked for. You’ll obviously need to give the ID to everyone who needs it. You can start by giving it to Perry when you see him now.”

  “Now?” She takes the amber from Gaius. “So something has gone wrong?”

  Gaius sighs. “I received communication from him a few minutes ago. Things are getting worse on the human side of the veil, and he has news regarding your friend who was detained at the Creepy Hollow Guild.”

  “Dash,” I say.

  Gaius nods. “Yes. We try to leave names out of messages whenever possible, but there’s no one else he could be referring to. He said he’d like to meet you at the aviary, Calla.”

 

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