by Linsey Hall
“Fair enough,” I said. Apparently there were folks out there who had it worse than FireSouls.
“What do you need one for? Not to kill him for his immortality, I presume?” Aethelred asked.
“Of course not.” Immortality would be awful.
His gaze hardened. “Convince me. I won’t send an assassin after my friend.”
“I do not want his power,” I said. Living forever would suck. Who wanted to watch all their friends and family die? “We need his help with a Pool of Enchantment.”
I explained the waypoint and my vision, finishing by saying, “At least, I think it was a vision. I don’t even know if it’s true or if we’re on the right path.”
Aethelred glanced at my locket, then lifted a hand as if to touch it. “May I?”
I nodded.
His fingertip touched the small golden charm, and he closed his eyes.
“Your vision is accurate. This links you to your past, and the waypoint is from your past. The locket helped you have your vision.” He removed his hand.
“Huh.” I wasn’t sure if I was happy or scared. I knew more about my past, but I didn’t like what I’d discovered.
“Eloquent.”
“It’s a gift,” I said. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”
His gaze turned solemn. “You are at a crossroads that few must face. One direction will call strongly, but you must resist. For your own good, and that of others. Your fears about yourself are valid because you face great darkness. But there is more than enough light within you to vanquish the dark, if you embrace it.”
I tried to keep my breathing steady as I listened. None of this surprised me, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. Having someone else confirm my fears was bad enough. That he thought I could fall to the darkness…
That was terrifying. I believed I was making progress—that I was more like my deirfiúr than like the Monster. But hearing my fears spoken aloud, by a seer no less, made it hard to remember the strides I’d made.
Did Aethelred know what I was?
“Is that all?” I asked.
“For now. Save Magic’s Bend and my home, then we will talk. One is more time sensitive than the other.”
“Fair enough. How do we find the Nullifier?”
“Outside of the village of Gimmelwald in the Swiss Alps.”
Of course he lived in the Alps. Probably at the top of the highest Alp.
“Do you have a transport charm we could purchase?” Aidan said. “Or more? We will need to get to Switzerland quickly.”
“Yes. You’ll need them.” He got up and shuffled from the room.
I glanced at Aidan. “Do you think he really knows about my past?”
“He could. He is a seer.”
It killed me not to demand answers now, but he was right. Hurry didn’t begin to describe our situation.
Aethelred returned and handed three transportation charms to Aidan. “This is all I have.”
“What do I owe you?”
“If you succeed in saving the museum, nothing other than replacing those charms. If you fail, buy me a new house when this one is sucked into the magical vacuum. But I like this one, so hurry. You have a few days, at most. Changes are occurring quickly now.”
Aidan nodded sharply and I winced, the reality of what was at stake clear. Many people would lose their homes. If they didn’t leave Magic’s Bend, they’d die. The biggest magical city in America would be destroyed. The damage could be so great that humans might notice.
A cold sweat formed on my skin. I did not like this kind of pressure.
We rose to go. As we left the room, Aethelred spoke.
“Oh, and two things.”
I turned.
“Most magic will not work around the Nullifier, as I’m sure you can imagine. Suppressing other’s gifts is how he protects himself. So unless you want to end up on the side of a mountain, I suggest you use the transportation charm to go to Stechelberg, the town nearest his, then approach using traditional means.”
“How will we find him if I can’t use my Seeker sense?” In public, I pretended to be a Seeker to explain why I could find things. No one wanted to kill Seekers.
“Look for the fairytale in the forest. You will find him.”
“The fairytale in the forest?”
“You’ll figure it out.” He pursed his lips, clearly willing to tell us no more.
“All right. And the other thing you mentioned?”
“Do not lose that locket.”
9
“Oh, hell no,” I muttered as I stared up at the mountains that soared above us.
We’d transported to Stechelberg a moment ago and now stood at the edge of town. Dawn sun illuminated the mountains around us, casting the harsh faces in a soft glow. The craggy stone peaks rose vertically into the air, straight out of the green meadows in the valley.
My chest felt achy and empty, no doubt the Nullifier blocking my magic. It was awful. Nauseating.
“How the hell are we supposed to get up there?” I asked. “I can’t see a road.”
“I can’t use my magic,” Aidan said. “He must be blocking it. Feels like hell.”
“Yeah, it sucks.” I pressed a hand over my heart and sucked in a shuddery breath, then pulled out my cellphone and searched Gimmelwald. Damned data charges were going to kill me, but at least it was a business expense. “Yeah, no road access, according to Google. But there is the Stechelberg-Murren-Schilthorn aerial tramway.”
“A cable car?”
“It’s our best bet if there’s one leaving soon.” Instinctually, I called upon my dragon sense and thought of the tram station. When the familiar tug pulled against my waist, I opened my eyes.
“My dragon sense works,” I said, surprised. Despite the gross feeling of having my power suppressed, my FireSoul ability still worked.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t expect it to, but I’m so used to using it that I tried it when I wanted to find the station.”
“Good. Don’t look a gift dragon in the mouth. Use it.”
“Come on, this way,” I said. “It’s not even half a mile.”
We hurried through the small village of Stechelberg, passing down what looked like the main street. The wooden buildings scattered on either side had flower boxes hanging off the windows. Purple and red blooms tumbled out. It was all so charming that my eyes almost crossed.
“I swear, Heidi is going to run out any minute,” I said.
Aidan laughed.
The houses gave way to open meadow, but at the end of the road, I caught sight of the station. It looked like a big, modern airplane hangar with cables rising into the air and up the mountainside.
We bought tickets and were the first—and only—passengers on the early morning ride up the mountain. As the cable car swung over the vast open space and the mountains below, I sat on the bench and lowered my head between my knees.
“Oh, I’m not built for this.” My stomach heaved.
“You’ve ridden on my back just fine.” Aidan sat next to me and rubbed my shoulders.
I reached for his hand and squeezed. “That’s different. This was built by humans.”
“They’re good at building things. Better than Magica, really.”
“They built the Titanic.”
“True. But I doubt this will hit an iceberg.”
“Knock on your head. Don’t jinx this.”
I looked up to see Aidan grin and knock on his head. The view out the window was spectacular, the craggy mountains reaching up to a pure blue sky. The higher we rose, the bigger they seemed, as if ever-extending vistas were being revealed with every meter upward.
“Do you feel that?” I asked. The empty sickness I’d felt down in Stechelberg was worse here, as if the Nullifier’s no-magic zone were stronger.
“Yeah.” Aidan’s voice was raspy.
For Magica, our power was like part of our soul. An organ, almost. When it was represse
d or removed—which was rare—it felt like hell.
“Oh, that’s awful,” I breathed.
The cable car slowed as it approached the Gimmelwald station. Unlike the last station, the mechanical apparatus for controlling the cables was out in the open, crouched on top of the station building like a great iron dragon.
“Loving this,” I muttered as my stomach turned. Losing most of my magic combined with motion sickness was not fun.
The second the car stopped, I hopped off and rushed down the stairs to solid ground. Aidan followed at a less freaked-out pace.
“Whew, that’s better.” Even ten seconds on real ground made my stomach feel less miserable.
Aidan rubbed my back. I couldn’t help but smile.
We turned and looked toward the tiny town, which was just as quaint as Stechelberg, surrounded by the small valley and forest. We were stair-stepping our way up the Alps, from tiny valley to tiny valley. One day I wanted to come back here and climb those soaring granite peaks. I wasn’t much of a hiker, but this was inspiring.
“So we need to look for the fairytale in the forest,” Aidan repeated Aethelred’s words.
“Then let’s head for the forest.” I cut across the narrow street and between two dark brown wooden buildings. The red and yellow flowers in the window boxes gave off a sweet smell. Soon, we were hiking across the meadow to the forest ahead.
“Thank magic Gimmelwald isn’t at the top,” I said. The bare granite peaks glowered down at us.
“I just hope we’re headed toward his forest.”
I nodded. There was another forest on the other side of town, but it was down the mountain a bit and harder to get to.
Ten minutes after entering the meadow, we reached the woods. Trees towered in front of us, casting shade and dappled sunlight on the forest floor.
“I see no fairytales,” Aidan said.
I focused on what little I knew of the Nullifier and called on my dragon sense. The familiar tug pulled around my middle. “Ahead, then slightly left.”
Twigs crunched under our shoes as we cut between the trees. Squirrels stopped to chitter down at us, scolding us over some forest infraction. The air was fresh and bright, filling my lungs and my head with joy and clarity.
It was magical in the forest.
I could stay here forever, just walking and wandering amongst the sunlight glittering on the ground, listening to the squirrels admonish us from above. Peacefulness descended over my mind, a blissful serenity that edged out any of my worries.
A low, lovely noise reached my ears.
Humming.
I glanced at Aidan, turning my head slowly so as to preserve the perfect calm, and saw that he was humming some kind of tune, his face relaxed and his gaze calm.
Good. He was enjoying himself too.
I drifted along as we walked, following the sounds and scents of the forest. When glittering lights danced ahead of us, like fireflies in the daytime, I smiled and turned toward them.
Aidan followed as well, his steps relaxed beside mine. We followed the dancing lights through the forest, drifting along and enjoying the moment.
Wouldn’t the morning be lovelier with a coffee? There was the nicest little bakery in town with the most delightful view of the mountains. We should go there. Have a coffee and enjoy the view. Perhaps even a pastry.
At this moment, there was nothing I wanted more than a pastry. I turned to go to the village, not even bothering to tell Aidan my new plan. He would want to do the same thing, too, of course. It was the most natural thing in the world to go to the village right now, so he would have the same idea.
As I’d expected, Aidan turned and followed me. The dancing lights accompanied us. Our new friends.
Friends… Friends…
Why was that word pulling at my mind? And what was the annoying tug about my middle? I wanted to go have a coffee in the village, not think about friends.
But my friends needed me. For something, something. And the tug about my middle was so insistent.
A chattering squirrel caught my eye, dragging my gaze from the glittering lights.
Clarity pushed at the edges of my mind, trying to drag my thoughts in one direction.
Friends… Friends…
Panic clawed at my throat, disrupting the lovely calm. My friends needed me. I was here to help them. But they weren’t here?
I stopped and shook my head, then fisted my hands in my scalp, hoping the pain would clear my mind.
It did, enough that I remembered we were here to seek someone. The Nullifier.
Find the fairytale in the forest.
These lights were straight out of a fairytale, luring the unwary traveler off their path.
“Aidan, snap out of it,” I said. “Don’t look at the lights.”
He shook his head. “What?”
“Don’t look at the lights.”
His gray gaze met mine, foggy with confusion. I reached out and pinched his arm. He jerked, but his vision cleared.
“Damn it,” he said. “Enchantments.”
“Yeah. Smart ones. Enough to keep the villagers away from the Nullifier’s house. They told me to go to a coffee shop that I didn’t even know existed.” I closed my eyes and focused on my dragon sense, picking up the trail again. “Come on, this way.”
We set off through the forest again. I danced my gaze around the forest, never resting on any one thing too long.
“We should talk,” I said. “Ty to keep ourselves from falling under the forest’s spell again.”
“Good idea. First topic. Aethelred said some interesting things about the crossroads you face.”
“Wow, you really jump into it, don’t you?”
“I like to cut to the chase.”
“Okay. Then yeah, I’ve got some thoughts. He’s obviously talking about my love of power.”
Aidan nodded.
“And that scares me,” I said. “It makes it real.”
“But it also means it’s not just you.”
“No, you’re right. He said that others have faced this as well. And that they’ve succumbed.” I shivered at the memory of my nightmare. “I had a nightmare at your house. A memory. The Monster is a FireSoul. That’s what Aethelred was warning me against. Don’t become like him.”
“And you aren’t.”
“I’m more like him than my deirfiúr. They’ve never been tempted by their FireSoul power.”
“They haven’t been forced to embrace it like you have. You’re doing it to survive, Cass. To protect the ones you love.”
I glanced at him and realized his gaze had been on me. Sincerity shone on his face. He really believed what he was saying. I reached out for his hand.
“I know we haven’t had time for that date I promised you,” I said.
“I wasn’t exactly expecting something traditional,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong—I’d take it. Dinner that isn’t pasties from P & P and a walk on the water sound killer, but your life doesn’t exactly leave room for things like that.”
“No. You’re right.” I focused on my dragon sense. We were still going the right way. “But I’m glad you’re on this, uh, adventure with me. My deirfiúr have always had my back, but having you, too, is pretty great.”
“Thanks.”
“You sure you have time to be always helping me out? You’ve got a giant business to run, right?”
“I believe in delegating. And there’s not really a more pressing concern than saving Magic’s Bend. It tops my list right now.”
I laughed, both amused and distressed. “Well, I’ll definitely take your help when I can get it.”
“Good. You have it whenever you need it. And also when you don’t need it.”
Whatever we had between us, we were making it kind of official, I realized. I wished we had more time to just be—to go on that date, to find time for more. But for now, I’d take what I could get, even if it was just quickly stolen moments while looking for the fairytale in the forest. Mayb
e this was our thing.
I still didn’t know if I was supposed to call him my boyfriend, but the word didn’t really suit Aidan.
“Do you hear that?” he asked.
I tensed, perking my ears. When I heard nothing but the rustle of leaves and the chittering of squirrels, I shook my head.
Then a rumble sounded beneath the ground, as if tree roots were grinding against dirt and rock. The glittering lights hovered just out of the corner of my eye, but I forced myself not to look. They were a threat, but there was something else far below.
We were getting closer to the Nullifier. The tug around my waist was getting stronger, as was the gross feeling of having my magic repressed.
Suddenly, the ground in front of us exploded, tree roots surging up and dirt flying into the air. I lunged back.
Figures scrambled up from the earth, their short, dwarfish bodies formed from twisted roots. Color glinted here and there. Gems stuck in the crevices between their gnarled roots. Five root-dwarves, with more climbing out of the scar in the earth.
I pulled my obsidian daggers free from my thigh holsters and tossed Aidan one.
“We come in friendship, Nullifier!” I called.
The dwarves did not answer, however.
Their dark jewel eyes glinted as they charged us, their footsteps shaking the earth beneath them. They seemed to gain strength and power with every step, drawing it from the earth.
Three collided with Aidan as the other two clashed with me. One went low for my legs, while the other threw a mean right hook. I got my blade up just in time to sever his root-arm, but crashed to the ground as the other plowed into me.
I kept my grip on my blade. Thank magic for obsidian, the sharpest stuff on earth. Because obsidian was volcanic glass, my daggers had been enchanted not to break. I thrust it out as the dwarf lunged for me, sinking my blade into his chest.
He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he gripped his rough, root-formed hands around my neck and squeezed. Stars burst behind my eyes as I gasped. I slashed with my blade again, swiping him across the face.
Again, he didn’t react other than to squeeze tighter.
Damn it.
