Emma hugged Mawr’s head, stroking his fur and thanking him over and over for all his help.
“I am still in debt to you for freeing my mind, little one. I would walk forever if you asked.”
She choked up and stood there for a while, clinging to him.
Faeries swarmed over, bearing bowls of water, berries, nuts, and breads.
Emma wiped her tears and headed into the grove, around the crystalline fountain, and stopped by the throne chamber in the hollow of the great tree. She knelt out of respect and waited for Nymira to finish talking to Imril. The snow-haired faerie man raised a hand in a ‘one moment’ gesture, and hurried along in his conversation.
Soon, Nymira nodded to him and looked up at Emma. “I am pleased to see you have returned unharmed. What news?”
Emma folded her hands in her lap. “Queen Nymira, the conjurer believes that a faerie has stolen a magical crystal. He’s angry about that, and wants to hurt all the faeries out of revenge.”
“Nonsense!” Nymira’s glowing red eyes flared brighter. “We have stolen nothing from him!”
“I apologize, queen. I don’t believe the Silverbell Faeries took his crystal, but he is convinced. Why might he think that?”
Nymira stood and stormed back and forth before her throne, her flame-red hair dragging like the train of an elaborate gown behind her. “When the man first appeared, we sensed a human in our land. I sent scouts to determine his intentions. He seemed friendly enough, so, as a gesture of welcome, we tidied up his disaster of a home.”
Pimlin cringed. “Messy! So messy was it.”
Emma narrowed her eyes. “He didn’t put out faerie cakes to say thank you, so you played tricks on him.”
Nymira flashed a coy grin. “Perhaps tricks were played.”
“And?” Emma folded her arms.
“We didn’t take anything… simple tricks. Clothing up in the trees, knotted his hair into his beard, took all the nails out of his chairs… things of that nature. We did not steal anything.”
“Hmm.” Emma stared at the ground in front of her knees. “He’s quite angry, and also a bit… nutters.”
Nymira flopped on her throne. “It is possible the magic of this realm has affected his mind. This world is not made for humans, and they do not fare well here past a certain age. Brief visits are tolerable, but too long within this place and it will become part of a person. A young child such as yourself…” She winked. “Especially with a little fey in her family, would notice nothing… but a grown man… it is quite likely he has already become bound to this place, and his mind has broken.”
“How can I convince him that you don’t have the Auracite? I know you didn’t take it, but do you have any Auracite?”
Nymira shook her head. “Such a thing is beyond even my ability to obtain. My powers are limited to this realm. I do, however, know of a possible salve for his mind.”
“Umm.” Emma scratched above her ear. “How does one put a salve on the mind? It’s inside the head.”
“Hah!” Nymira laughed and flew up to kiss her cheek. “You are precious!” She glided back, hovering at eye-level. “I meant salve in a figurative sense. There is an Astari ruin part way between the Elder Grove and where this conjurer has made his home. At its southern end, a shrine to Mythandriel yet stands.”
Emma nodded. “I think we found those ruins. By the bridge.” She blinked. “The dome with the green leaves decorating it?”
“That is correct.” Nymira raised her eyebrows. “Please tell me that you crossed with Neema’s assistance.”
Kes whistled innocently.
“Eventually.” Emma shot him a scolding look.
“Within that shrine,” said Nymira, “is a lifespring. Collect the blessed water from it and give it to the conjurer to drink. It should clear his mind.”
Fila and Raa carried a glass bottle out from behind the massive tree and dragged it over to her.
“Be careful, Emma.” Nymira floated up to eye level. “Do not drink this water yourself, or you will become bound to this realm and unable to leave.”
She nodded. “Won’t it do the same to Danithar?”
Nymira let off a sad sigh. “The man is already bound to this place, though he does not realize. He has been here so long, if he should set foot back in your realm, he would dry out to a pile of dust. Humans who cannot accept magic become bound to this place within days, but he is a practitioner of magic, so he should have been able to endure for a while. However, he has been here for over five hundred years.”
Emma cringed and took the bottle. “I understand.”
“One more thing I must warn you.” Nymira’s expression became one of motherly concern. “When you find the temple, do not simply take the water. If any power remains within the guardian, they will regard you a thief and surely seek to harm you.”
“What should I do then?” asked Emma.
“Be respectful. Wait for a sign from the spirits. If they do not permit you to take from the spring, return here and I shall try to think of something else we can do.”
“All right.” She gazed longingly up at the sky, wanting to go home. “We should wait until morning. Mawr is exhausted.”
“Of course.” Nymira spoke to the faeries around her in their language. “Food will be brought to you. By all means, take some rest. Know that I am grateful to you for all your efforts.”
“Danithar has agreed to stop sending magic animals to hurt you for a month at least while I ‘get his crystal back.’ I want to go now so I may return to my family sooner, but Mawr is tired and it would be cruel of me to press him.”
Nymira glided up to her face and caressed her cheek. “Worry not, child. Your family is as you have left them. They do not fret or worry over you.”
Emma tried to believe it, but couldn’t squash the nugget of homesickness in her gut. “I’m sorry for being so nervous. I promised I’d be good, and here I am, away from home for days.”
Nymira patted her cheek. “Trust us, and do not let worry cloud your dreams. Now, rest. As the bear is, so are you exhausted.”
After bowing, Emma walked back to the snoozing Mawr, and sat. Kes flopped at her side on his stomach, flute at his lips.
Another few days. She tried to believe the queen’s words that her family hadn’t fallen into a storm of worry. Soon, a small army of faeries brought over cakes, fruits, and water. She ate and lounged in the grass, passing the remainder of the day in uneasy stillness.
t morning light, Emma asked Mawr to take her back to the place with the ruined buildings and the scary bridge. He agreed without protest, and Kes scrambled up to perch behind her. Having spent days upon his back, the faun no longer seemed nervous, nor did he cling to her constantly, though he did sit close.
Emma asked about his life. He described it as far more boring than her home, days spent frolicking in the woods, hunting for berries and such to eat. She thought it odd for a being so fond of the company of others, especially girls, to be all alone in a place without anyone, but didn’t say anything.
The journey back to the Astari ruins again required they cross Darbolg. Depending on how Emma shifted, Neema either hid under the hem of her dress between her knees, or zipped down the neck and huddled against her chest. After almost a full day in the foul-smelling bog, they neared the edge. Off to the left, a trio of huge wasps set upon a cloud of lightmoths, taking three of the hapless dinner-plate-sized insects as meals with relative ease. She watched in horror, but kept quiet, so as not to frighten the faerie. Seeing how little time it took for the wasps to come out of nowhere and take their prey made her understand why Neema desired to stay out of sight. She cradled her hands to her chest, holding the lump Neema made in her dress with a gentle embrace.
Kes played a new song, which he’d made for her. Notes part way between cheery and haunting echoed over the swamp for a short while, bringing a smile to her lips, and getting Mawr to hum along.
“Is that song magical like the other?” asked Emm
a.
“It has magic in it, yes.” He winked.
“What does it do?”
Kes put a hand on her cheek and traced a thumb beneath her eye. “It will always remind me of you.”
Emma blushed. Having a friend was a new experience. No one in her life fit the word. Not her brother Tam, nor Kimber, her new sister. Both of them occupied a place in her heart quite different from a friend. She had never spent much time in the company of any other children from town, but she liked being with Kes. While he played, Emma let her mind wander, trying to imagine what sorts of things friends might busy themselves doing if not for being in the faerie world. He would create mischief and get me in trouble, no doubt. He’d play tricks on Hadrath, probably set his pigs loose. He’d flip the brake on the fruit cart and watch it roll out of the town square. Maybe he’d go make a mess of Mr. Carrow’s bakery! Emma grinned. Not that she’d dare risk doing the sorts of mischievous things she suspected he’d want to, but it amused her to think about them.
Mawr continued walking even after sunset, so they could leave Darbolg behind and find solid ground upon which to sleep. In the dead of night, he found a spot of firm ground where three of the white-barked trees grew close and their thick drape of leaves offered shelter. There, the unlikely group bedded down to sleep.
Emma awoke, groggy and in dire need of a privy, long before the sun came up. Kes sat next to her, teasing a soft, lilting melody from his flute.
Emma grunted and sat up. “You’re not sleeping?”
“Neither are you.” He wagged his eyebrows.
“I have to go…” She dragged herself to her feet and wandered off to find a secluded place. Once she finished, she stumbled back to Mawr and collapsed upon her bear-bed. The music continued, and after a few minutes, she opened one eye. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”
“Fauns don’t always have to. The song I’m playing is the same as sleeping.”
Emma yawned. “What will you do all night then if you’ll be awake?”
He smiled. “Watch over you.”
“Mmm.” She smiled at him, closed her eye and let sleep take her.
Late the next day, they wandered into the crumbling remains of the elven city, but took the southerly fork in the ancient road instead of going to the bridge. The ruins spread over a larger area than she’d expected at first glance; the city had been many times the size of Widowswood Town. For half an hour, Mawr walked past collapsing buildings, spires, and vast gardens on elevated tiers connected by white stone walkways. Statues of elves stood or lay fallen, some in robes, some in armor, some with nothing on at all.
Emma gazed in awe at the beautiful craftsmanship left to sit in a place where no one would ever see it. “I wonder why they decided to leave?”
“I don’t know.” Kes yawned. “Is that the temple?”
He pointed ahead and left, at the dome-shaped structure carved from pure white stone. Leaf shapes drawn in jade circled the outside, spanning from the ground to the top. A circular pool twenty or thirty paces wide surrounded the building, littered with small, flat stones. The dome, and especially the ring-shaped reflecting pool, radiated a sense of warning.
“Yes, that’s the building I saw. It feels bad,” said Emma.
“Badness, yes.” Neema glided forward, paused at the pool’s edge, and returned. “Curse in the water. Strong it is. Deadly. No touch.”
Emma warned Mawr not to touch the water due to a curse.
He stopped nearby, and flopped down to rest.
“No drink,” said Neema.
Again, Emma warned him what Neema said.
The bear chuckled. “You expect I would drink water you’ve said is cursed not a moment before?”
Emma giggled. At a quizzical look from the faerie, she translated bear.
“Sure making.” Neema nodded.
After sliding off the bear, Emma walked up to the edge and peered in. Close to her, the water did not reflect the sky as strongly, and she could see beneath the surface of a shallow pool. Its floor of flat grey stone tiles covered in dark moss looked perhaps up to her knee if she dared enter. A sinister presence radiating from the pool filled her with dread, awakening inside her an instinctual desire to run away. Even if Neema hadn’t called it cursed, she wouldn’t have wanted to touch it. Perhaps she too could sense curses, or maybe being a child somehow offered her senses adults lacked.
“This is a temple,” said Kes.
She glanced at the flat stones. From a distance, they had looked like floating pads, but up close, she made out the forms of small columns a mere inch taller than the water. “I think these are stepping stones.”
“They’re small,” said Mawr.
Emma leaned one foot out and set it upon the nearest stone. With her heel at the edge, her toes hung over the front. Da couldn’t have fit half his foot on it.
“Even at your size, you cannot find a solid perch,” said Mawr.
Kes crouched beside her. “The Astari were known to be fast and agile, more so than humans. I bet they hopped across with ease, and used the magic in the water as a way to protect the temple.”
Emma backed off to solid ground. While the stones near the edge looked easy enough to hop between, they got farther apart closer to the interior, and it wouldn’t take much to slip and fall in.
“Climb on my back.” Kes patted his shoulder. “I’ll carry you across.”
“Maybe you can skip across, but not while carrying me.”
“Nothing weigh!” Neema wrapped herself around Emma’s neck.
Emma stared at the temple. “Can you carry me across while I weigh nothing?”
Neema sighed. “At a time one. Fly can magic make or light.”
“You always glow.” Emma tilted her head.
“Light!” shouted Neema. “Heavy not.”
“Oh.” Emma grinned. “I understand. Your magic can make you fly or it can make me lighter… not both at once.”
“Said already I that did.” Neema sighed in exasperation.
Emma wrapped her arms around Kes and gripped her wrist before hopping up and lifting her legs. He grabbed her behind the knees and took a few steps to each side before a few quick hops. She clung to his back, his shaggy brown hair brushing her cheek, heavy with the scent of sandalwood and clove.
“Are you dancing?” asked Emma.
“Checking balance.” He gazed at the pool for a while before walking to the left around the edge.
“Now what are you doing?”
“Looking to see if there’s a path. There might be a set of stones that are easier to cross than others.”
“Oh.” She perked up to stare at the pool, but all the pale grey dots on black water seemed the same to her.
“I think I found it,” said Kes, about a quarter of the way around from the doors. “In front of the doors and right in back would be the first place someone looked. But… maybe I am seeing an illusion. Ready?”
She squeezed herself tight to his back. “Yes.”
“Ready am yes,” said Neema, clinging to the back of Emma’s neck.
Kes sprang into the air, alighting on the first stone for only a second before jumping again. Each time his hoof came down, a sharp click broke the solemn stillness of the place. Emma clenched her jaw, staring at their reflection racing by on the water. He leapt from stone to stone to stone, laughing the whole way as if falling wouldn’t kill them.
Of course, a curse could be many things aside from death… but this water felt bad.
He stopped about halfway across, balancing on one leg while studying the stones around them. Emma yelped when he jumped up, switching hooves on the same stone.
“There it is,” said Kes, sounding confident. He grunted and leapt again in a series of rapid jumps―click click click click―and stopped at the three-quarter mark. “Almost there.”
Emma, breathless, looked back at the pool behind them. “I hope we don’t have to run away from this place fast.”
“Well then”―Kes hopped
two stones one after the next―”You should try not to make whatever is in here angry.”
Another leap put them on the grass surrounding the domed building. He walked forward a few steps before letting go of her legs. She held on to him for a moment more, trying to calm her breathing.
“Are you all right?” He put his hand atop hers where she held tight to his chest.
“Yes. Just… a little frightened. The magic in that pool is scary.” She unclasped her hands, but kept holding his.
Kes pointed to the right. “The doors are over there.”
She led the way around the building. A short hallway with a pointed arch roof jutted out from the dome, ending at a pair of double doors that appeared to be made of amber and bore a carved likeness of an Astari woman, hands outstretched as if offering solace. The massive entrance towered over her so high she had to stand on tiptoe to reach the handles. She strained to get her fingers around the bar. Kes crouched, wrapped his arms around her legs, and lifted her so she sat on his right shoulder.
“Thanks,” said Emma.
She grasped the handle, expecting the giant doors to ignore her little arms pulling, but when she tugged, the door moved as if it weighed less than a quill. Kes set her down, and she grabbed the edge, pulling the door to the side before walking in.
Two-story-tall statues of Astari elves in garments made of leaves stood against the inner wall, each in line with one of the leaf shapes in the stone. The translucent jade outlines caught the sun, flooding the entire chamber with dim green light. Four male and four female elves held their hands upward, gazing at the central point of the roof in reverent awe. A scattering of long-rotted tasseled cushions atop a faded blue and silver rug occupied the otherwise empty central floor.
An enormous bowl of plain white stone, much larger than the tub she bathed in at home, sat at the feet of the statue facing the entrance. Glowing water within painted the Astari woman above it in wavering ice-blue shadows. Emma gawked at the luminous water.
That has to be the lifespring Nymira told me about.
The female elf statue standing astride the bowl wore an elaborate crown of leaves and vines, but none of the others had anything upon their heads.
Emma and the Silverbell Faeries Page 20
