by WB McKay
Phoebe laughed, and it sounded surprisingly happy. Her words sounded pissed. "Sophie, friends spend time together by choice. Their relationship may be impermanent. We're stuck together, you and me. We're family."
I was taken aback. I hadn't kept track of how many times Phoebe had surprised me over the past ten minutes, but I was getting whiplash trying to keep up.
Phoebe looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at me. "Oh, get over it."
And just like that, the tension went out of my shoulders. We were walking in comfortable silence again. At least, we were, until she asked, "How are you handling things?"
"Wow, I actually forgot it all for a second there."
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's--I mean, it's not fine, but you're fine. I actually feel like crap that I forgot for a moment. He's out there, somewhere, and I'm… not."
"Guilt is useless."
"It keeps me humble."
Phoebe snorted at that.
"I'm scared, Phoebe."
"I know." She nodded. "That's okay. Fortunately, we're in Faerie, so you'll fit in."
I looked at the back of her head skeptically.
"Okay, as much as you're capable of," she said. "Shouldn't you hide the crown?"
"Ugh." I reached up to adjust it, but pulled my hand away before it made it all the way there. I wasn't sure that touching it with more of my body would heighten its effects, but the more I could minimize the situation, the better off I'd be.
"You could put it in my bag," offered Phoebe.
"There's no point," I told her. "It never works. No, the Fleece and I are in this together."
"Are you saying that crown is family now?"
"Tentative allies."
Phoebe laughed. "Carefully worded. How very Faerie of you."
"Word games," I said. While fae everywhere had a tendency to enjoy wordplay, fae in Faerie were more prone to it. "Another reason it would be great if Owen was here right now."
"But then you'd be at home and that reason wouldn't exist."
"Don't get technical with me." If Ava hadn't just entered our sights, I was sure Phoebe would have come up with something biting to say. As it was, we quieted when we heard Ava's strained words.
"I know being a ghost in Faerie is difficult," said Ava, her words measured. "I understand you have to dodge any number of fae who want to consume your energy. Your safety is important to me. With that in mind, I want you to pass along information in any safe way you are able. I need to save my brother, and I need your help to do so." She let out an exasperated sigh, listened for a few moments and then said, "I appreciate that."
"That sounded rough," I said, to get her attention.
"Yes, Faerie is as unkind to ghosts as the living. Patricia and I managed to convince a few to help though." She nodded to the empty space to her right. "Mostly Patricia. It's easier for them to understand one of their own kind when they are unfamiliar with me."
I smiled at the empty space where Ava's ghostly bestie, Patricia, must have been standing. "I appreciate that, Patricia. You're a lifesaver."
Ava listened for a moment before relaying Patricia's words. "She's laughing at you calling a ghost a 'lifesaver'." Ava paused. "She says that she's always rooted for you two. She's not about to stop now. Besides, she has a bet to win."
Great, now I had ghosts betting on my love life. "If you're ready to move, we have a destination."
"I'm ready," said Ava. "Patricia will scout for more contacts while we travel. Where are we headed?"
"We are going to check in with the local high priestess of the Tangled Vine. See if she has any information on Owen traveling through her territory."
Ava nodded. "The dryads could be very helpful in this endeavor. Lead the way, Phoebe."
Into the woods we went. The journey was different for me than the last one had been. I wasn't sure if it was my recent experiences, or the Fleece on my head, but I was noticing more of the dangers. I watched a small furry animal that reminded me of a squirrel unhinge its jaw and swallow a lizard nearly as big as it was. One of the strange flying frogs I'd seen on my last trip drifted through a cloud of tiny bugs. I assumed it would come out the other side with a mouthful of protein. Instead, it never came out at all. It had taken mere seconds for the bugs to nibble the frog down to the bone.
We kept to the path. Phoebe took the lead. She walked confidently, and I wondered how often she'd made this journey. Ava also appeared comfortable. She had a small bag with her, and two knives the length of her forearms strapped to her legs. She was tiny, but prepared for a fight. I felt lucky to have companions like them.
It took me a while to get used to the feeling of the wings pressed against my back and catching air as I walked. I longed to put them to a good test, but the forest was too dense to spread them. I should probably have shifted them away. I knew I could. The clarity the Fleece offered told me that. I could have even shifted the wings away and kept the feathers on my body if I wanted to. I also could have shifted my feet to a blend of crow talons that would have made me almost indistinguishable from a harpy. I'd admired them and their power and confidence for so long, now I had that and so much more. Why had I avoided putting on the Fleece for months?
Phoebe came to an abrupt stop, her whole body suddenly still. "Quiet," she whispered.
I peered into the green haze of the early morning forest. Ahead of us were eight large bodies milling down the path in our direction. From this distance, all I could see was brown fur, highlighted with streaks of iridescent blue light. They looked and moved like Faerie deer. If I hadn't seen that squirrel devour the lizard, I would have scoffed at stopping to avoid some silly deer.
As I watched, the deer continued to amble toward us. I could make out the large spiky horns on their heads now. Something was wrong with their faces. They were a ghostly white instead of brown. The deer in the lead froze. It looked like a standard deer-in-the-headlights pose. On Earth, the animals would have bolted, but that's not the way things worked in Faerie.
The deer lowered their heads and charged with blinding speed. Phoebe immediately shot into action, her hands raising to command vines that darted from several directions. Ava drew her blades and took up a defensive stance. The deer dodged the vines with speed and grace, bounding ten feet in the air.
Two separate sets of instincts warred within me. Instinct born from years of experience saw the crazed deer bounding toward us, their heads now obviously skeletal with glowing blue eyes, and urged me to draw my swords. They had been my only real defense for almost ten years. It felt right to draw them and fight a bloody battle for survival. Another instinct, more recently developed, told me to reach for my magic. My death light was ready for me to dispatch the threat with little more than a thought. They leapt and dodged at a lightning pace, but they were no match for the flying balls of death.
Phoebe seized a couple of the beasts and held them fast, but she couldn't capture them all. Five animals--much closer to the size of moose than deer--barreled toward us. With the massive racks on their heads, we weren't likely to escape unscathed if I didn't put them down with my magic.
And that's when a new thought popped into my head. As though the crown were a living being, something that understood my desire to avoid either of the options in front of me, it provided a new answer. I knew what I had to do. I stepped around Phoebe, eliciting a growl of protest as I blocked her line of sight. I ignored her.
One hand raised in front of me, I called upon all the authority I could muster and said one word. "Stop."
The beasts' legs locked, causing them to skid wildly to a stop a few feet away from impaling me on their wicked horns. The lead deer, easily a foot taller than the rest, snorted and shuddered. After giving me a skeptical look, it bent its left leg and lowered its head, the animal version of a bow. When his head rose, the beast was no longer a skeletal apparition from the neck up. His fur and natural eyes returned, leaving him looking more like a canine than a deer or moose. To add to the image, his tongue l
olled in a grin.
"Whoa," said Phoebe. "How in fae did you do that?"
I waved her off, not trusting that I could find true words to express myself in that moment. I knew it was the crown that had given me the authority to command the creatures. I also knew what power did to people. Supervillan was a prime example. If I kept surrendering to the power of the Fleece, I was likely to end up just like him, but if I didn't use it, there was almost no chance I would see Owen again. I'd already made my choice, no use in letting the fear give me doubts now, so, I leaned in. I let the power of the Fleece take hold of me and in turn I harnessed its authority. "Lead us to the dryad priestess," I commanded the deer.
The five that were free turned and walked back the way they'd come.
"You can let the others go, Phoebe."
She dropped the vines immediately. The fact that she did so without even questioning me was expected. Except that's not what would have happened before. Before I took up the Fleece. It wasn't just affecting fae beasts, it was affecting my friends.
And I only kind of, sort of, cared. Alarm bells rang out in the back of my mind--they struggled to draw my attention with a fireworks show even--and I let them do their thing. I didn't build up a wall to block them out; I accepted them. This was happening. None of it seemed as bad as what I could imagine happening to Owen.
With the massive canine deer escorting us, we didn't have any more complications on our trip to the high priestess. Several large beasts never presented as more than shadows lurking behind trees.
"Maybe this trip won't be so bad," said Ava, stepping up beside me.
"I don't think it's going to be that easy," I replied. "We're only avoiding some of the minor inconveniences of Faerie right now."
Ava nodded. "It's been quite some time since I've visited Faerie. The last time was before Owen entered his teen years." She looked around, her mouth set into a firm line. "I don't miss it."
I couldn't blame her. Faerie was unforgiving. It was no wonder the fae had fallen into the habit of power worship. Not having offensive magic or substantial defensive abilities here was a death sentence. For someone like Ava, whose only active power was severely limited, she probably wouldn't have survived to adulthood unless she'd been part of a protective community. That wasn't the sort of thing that happened in Faerie.
None of that provided any excuses for Volarus and the fae council. Shunning the weak and elevating the powerful to god-like status was no way for a society to operate. Especially when it wasn't necessary for survival.
I understood the world was cruel, but in the face of that, I refused to believe that sheer blunt force was the only sign of strength. Swords cut with minimal pressure. As someone who was a fan of the swiftness of kicking someone in the shins to get what I wanted, I had to admit that more subtle approaches usually reaped more benefits in the long run. We need a leadership that understands that.
I stopped. Shook my head. Cut it out, Sophie. I didn't think about what kind of leadership we needed. I barely considered myself part of the "we". Not my circus, not my monkeys. Bad, Fleece. Bad.
The crown of feathers was affecting me in so many ways and I'd only worn it for a few hours, including all the times it had popped onto my head without my noticing. As if I didn't already feel the clock ticking as we searched for Owen, the effects of the Fleece were a timer all their own. I needed to find Owen and get the Fleece back to MOD where it belonged. Far, far away from me. Before the crown sunk its claws in and I was someone Owen wouldn't recognize.
Gradually, the landscape around us rose in elevation. The trees along the path grew larger and farther apart, draped with hundreds of vines. It wasn't long before we could barely see from one tree to the next.
The deer beasts stopped and turned to our right, facing a wall of foliage. I looked from the deer to the plants. When nothing happened, I stepped forward, and the vines parted with a sibilant rustle. Curling and intertwining in new ways, they formed a green tunnel that wound into the heart of the forest. The deer stepped past me, apparently having gotten what they were waiting for, and continued to lead us on. Taller than the rest, the lead deer's antlers scraped against a few vines, and the tunnel reformed higher above us. Thanks to years of Phoebe teaching me exactly what magical vines could do, I kept my hands on my swords as we made our way through. Our passage was peaceful though, and several minutes later we left the tunnel, spilling into a clearing that held one of the largest trees I'd ever seen. While I didn't see a dryad, I had no doubt this was where the high priestess dwelled. The deer beasts confirmed this by turning to face me rather than walking forward. There was a question in their leader's eyes.
Words came unbidden to my mouth. "You are dismissed."
The whole group of beasts did that one-legged bow and then disappeared into the forest without making so much as a sound. We were alone. Or at least I didn't see anybody.
CHAPTER SIX
While the deer beasts were creepy, the dryads had them beat.
My awareness of their presence started with a niggling on my neck. I fought the urge to cover the spot with my hand and settled for rolling my head between my shoulders. Rather than darting my eyes about, I let them roam from side to side, watching for the first signs of movement.
"Sophie," Ava whispered.
I gave a slight shake of my head, and noticed Phoebe cut her hand through the air. She knew the dryads were there, too.
There. Closer than I would have guessed, I caught a blinking eye in front of a tree. The dryads blended in with their trees so well that I'd been lucky to catch that much. Once I saw it, though, it became slightly easier to spot more of them.
One, two… Most of the ones I counted were at a distance. Not much could thrive under the thick foliage of the giant tree that dominated the area. That one tree made up the canopy for hundreds of feet. The redwoods of my home were giants, but they were mostly tall. Not to say they didn't grow wide, but it was usually proportional to their extreme height. The tree belonging to the high priestess was more like a sequoia with a Faerie makeover. The tree was so wide that fifty people couldn't have linked hands around it. The bark glowed with a faint pink light through the heavy moss that adorned it, and the leaves shone a faint blue.
The priestess took her sweet time coming forward. Phoebe approached and nodded at her fellow priestess. The priestess responded with a nod of her own.
"Phoebe, it's been too long since you've visited," said the priestess, her eyes locked on me rather than her counterpart. "And you must be Sophie Morrigan." Suddenly in a grand old hurry, she moved with eerie speed, dancing around Phoebe and holding her hand out for me to shake. "We've heard much about you since your first visit to Faerie. Even more since you took up the Fleece."
"All of it's utter bullshit, I'm sure," I replied, not happy about the way she'd snubbed Phoebe. It could have been taken for unintentional if I hadn't seen enough passive aggressive crap in my lifetime to see it for what it was. I could dish it out with the best of them if I felt the need. "You should know why I'm here. What do you have for me?" Ignoring social convention and asking abrupt questions was a sure way to do that.
"I am Yelena, high priestess of the Faruk Forest," she replied, ignoring my question entirely. I was sure she would have usually offered some pleasantry about how it was nice to meet me, but I'd blown that right out of the water. She'd have to lie to say that to my face now. From what I'd picked up from Phoebe over the years, I was pretty confident dryads weren't one of the fae liars. Phoebe didn't even seem that big on word game lies. I hoped that was a dryad trait; things would be much easier that way. "You must be famished from your journey." Yelena opened her arms in a gesture of welcome. "Please, come with us and we will see that you are replenished."
If I didn't need her help, I probably would have continued to needle her, but we had so little information I couldn't afford to make her an enemy. Besides, I was hungry and didn't know what we could risk eating in Faerie on our own.
"That wo
uld be appreciated, Yelena," I replied, stepping into line behind her as she turned.
I'd assumed she was one of those pompous asses that referred to themselves as we until I noticed a whole cadre of dryads had gathered quietly beside us while we spoke. They moved into line with our group, all of them casting furtive glances at me through their mossy or leafy drapings.
"None of them are naked like you," I said to Phoebe. "Most of them even have veils over their heads."
"Bunch of prudes," Phoebe muttered under her breath. I thought I heard some tittering from the dryads nearest to us. When I raised a brow, she decided to explain. "I'm my own person. You don't assume that every banshee is going to dress the same. Why would you assume the same about me and my people?"
"And your being naked has nothing to do with trying to irritate or embarrass me into abandoning my home?"
"I shunned clothing long before you were born," she replied.
It wasn't really an answer to my question, which meant it probably had started out as a tactic with previous residents and she couldn't lie about it. I did trust that it had become part of who she currently was, so I let it drop.
As we walked, Yelena's tree grew even larger in my vision. Seeing it up close was overwhelming. I wasn't sure where we were going. She headed straight for the center. I wondered if she didn't interact with non-dryads often enough to realize that we couldn't become one with her tree. When we were a few feet away, a crack appeared in the trunk; golden light spilled from inside. Yelena opened the door and gestured for our group to enter. She and several other dryads followed us inside.
The inside of the tree had been made into a meeting hall with a huge table dominating the room. The table was polished, but still glowed with the pink light of the living wood of the tree. I looked over the walls and found they weren't carved. Somehow, the tree had been grown for this purpose. Even with the use of magic, it must have taken a very long time.
"It's impressive, isn't it," said Yelena. It wasn't a question. She'd chosen a chair at the head of the table. "Please, have a seat."
