by Molly Ringle
Cassidy exchanged goodnights with Larkin, then left.
The glow of the computer still lit Merrick’s face. He tapped keys again. “No answer yet on the email account.”
“I have told you, such words make no sense to me.”
Merrick sighed. “The palace hasn’t answered your message. Maybe no one’s noticed you’re gone yet, and no one checks messages until opening hours. I don’t know.” He slid aside the computer, folded his arms on the table, and rested his head upon them like a student nodding off at lessons.
“Do sleep, Highvalley. There’s likely no rush this very night. I’m not tired; I shall read.”
“Mm-hm.” Merrick did not lift his face.
Larkin cradled the atlas in one arm, leaned his back against the end of a bookshelf, and continued to study the new country delineations within North and South America. Silence settled over the library. Merrick soon began breathing in the steady exhalations of sleep.
The giant rabbit hopped into view from behind the sofa and limped over to bump her nose against Larkin’s feet.
He knelt and touched the bandage on her front paw. “Now, what’s this?” He glanced over: Merrick still slept. Then he reached out and drew into himself the power he seldom used and far more seldom admitted to possessing. Heat rose all over him, then spread down to his fingers, leaving the rest of him cold. The rabbit twitched in surprise, but held still—he wasn’t hurting her, only reading her.
“Ah. Merely a scratch. I suspect you know a cat. Let’s ease that, shall we?” He gave her a new surge of magic. Though it took place beneath the bandage, he could feel it—the skin closing and healing; the scab drying. He retracted his touch and slid to sit on the floor, breathing faster from the mild exertion that magic use always extracted.
The rabbit lifted her nose to tickle her whiskers against his knuckles, as if grateful, then scuffled away, still wearing the bandage.
At least the history books did not seem to know he was an exo-witch. That secret had been guarded from public knowledge in Larkin’s time, though such untrustworthy individuals as Rosamund Highvalley had known it. The royals, were they born with magic, were not meant to use it openly, to avoid seeming partisan in any magic-related debate. Just as well, for Larkin chose never to use the power, except in emergencies or to aid innocent creatures. It went against his own loudly and publicly stated principles.
But the history books, he thought with a sinking of spirits, would have to be rewritten after tonight in any case. How much would come to light? What else, involving himself, Ula Kana, the government, and the Highvalleys, would transpire before his life was truly over?
CHAPTER 12
MERRICK AWOKE WITH A JOLT FROM AN UNSETTLING dream of Ula Kana making a bonfire of human bones. Sunlight streamed into the library. He had drooled on the library table and his neck ached from sleeping in the chair. His phone clock read 7:45.
Sending self-healing to ease the tension in his neck, he stood to look around. The table still held tea mugs and a plate with crumbs, along with Rosamund’s box and a few reference books, proving that last night did in fact happen. “Hello?” Merrick called. He stumbled across to the Canopy Bedroom. No one there. “Hello?” He went out the door, down the balcony corridor. The bathroom was empty too.
Elemi’s voice drifted up from downstairs, answered by Cassidy’s. Merrick ran down to the ground floor, skidded into the kitchen, and halted.
Larkin sat at the kitchen table with a plate of eggs, toast, and jam in front of him. He held a mug of coffee in one hand, and the other tapped at the screen of Elemi’s iPad. Jasmine the corgi sat beside his chair, looking up longingly at him—or at least, at his breakfast—her front paw upon Larkin’s foot.
Elemi stood behind Larkin’s chair, sticking bobby pins decorated with green cloth clovers into his braid.
Washing dishes at the sink, Cassidy glanced at Merrick. “You’re up. I was just about to put the rest of the eggs in the fridge.”
Merrick wiped the astonishment off his face and forced a smile at Larkin. “Ah. I see you got breakfast.”
Larkin lifted his chin in greeting. “Good morning, Highvalley. Yes, I did.”
“I met Lorenzo when I went up to look for you,” Elemi said to Merrick. “I didn’t know you were having a friend over!”
“Lorenzo,” Merrick repeated. Of course; they weren’t going to entrust a ten-year-old with the secret of who Larkin really was. “No, it was … a bit unplanned.”
“I was exiting the bathroom when she came up,” Larkin said. “She invited me to breakfast. We opted to let you sleep a while longer.”
“And why are you doing his hair?” Merrick asked Elemi, trying to sound curious rather than alarmed.
“I asked if I could.” She pierced his braid with another clover pin.
“My hair had dried,” Larkin said, “and I braided it to keep it back, but found I had no means to secure it. Your niece offered her assistance.”
“Don’t you think he looks like Prince Larkin?” Elemi said.
“Yes,” Merrick said. “I noticed that the first time I saw him. I see he found the iPad.”
“He asked to read the news,” Cassidy said. “Elemi showed him how to use it.”
“Is there news?” Merrick locked gazes with Cassidy, who gave a brief headshake.
“Not really. No important emails yet either.”
He didn’t dare ask anything else in front of Elemi. “All right. Then yes, I’ll have the rest of the eggs. Thank you.”
Elemi finished Larkin’s braid, picked up her plate, and brought it to the food waste bin, where she used her magic to send the toast crusts flying off. They formed a ball in the air and plunged into the bin.
“Nice,” Merrick remarked. “But if you want to use your magic to clean things, consider the glass on top of the dome. It’s getting grimy.”
“It’s really hard, doing it from the ground,” she said. “And Cass won’t let me climb up there. You could fly up and scrub it.”
Cassidy rinsed a mug. “Uncle Merrick is not supposed to use his rare ability unauthorized, even to clean the house.”
“Then call the guy who brings the fadas,” Elemi said. “They’ve cleaned it before. Have you seen fadas?” she asked Larkin. “They’re so cool. They’re these fae who use their fire magic to clean stuff.”
“I have indeed,” he replied.
“But you have to show them a dance,” Merrick pointed out. “The only ones I know are the Macarena and the chicken dance, and they’re tired of those.”
“Do the chicken dance,” Elemi begged, already giggling. “Please. Do it now.”
“Absolutely not,” he said. “Time for school.”
Cassidy shut off the water. “I’ll walk her to the bus stop.”
Merrick hugged Elemi. “Have a good day. Don’t spell-fling an eraser at anyone’s head.”
“I only did that once.” She beamed at Larkin, who appeared to be reading an article online in the Eidolonian Mirror. “Bye! Thanks for letting me braid your hair.”
Setting the iPad on the table, Larkin rose. “Farewell, young friend, and thank you for your assistance.”
“You’re welcome,” Elemi sang, and she and Cassidy went out.
“Chicken dance?” Larkin inquired of Merrick.
“We’re not talking about it.” Upon hearing the front door shut, Merrick let out his breath and pulled a plate from the cupboard. He hadn’t gotten enough rest, and nothing about this Larkin situation looked better with the morning light. “You could have woken me before coming down.”
Larkin sat again. “You looked exhausted. I thought it rude to refuse your niece’s kind invitation. I do have some inkling of how to conduct myself diplomatically in new situations.”
“Complete with fake names.”
“Quite.”
Merrick dumped the rest of the eggs onto his plate, broke a banana off its bunch, and brought his food and coffee to the table. While Larkin poked at the iPad, Merrick
texted Sal again, who still hadn’t answered his first message.
Merrick: Hey Sal, are you up yet? Really want to ask you some things.
Thanks
He set the phone down and asked Larkin, “Is there anything in the news?”
“Why, yes. The entire palace is closed to visitors today. They’re claiming ‘a malfunction in aspects of the magical protection,’ and are keeping the public away ‘just to be safe.’ While also claiming ‘everyone is well and there is no cause for alarm.’”
Merrick felt too sick to eat for a moment. “They know you’re gone, then. And they’re not telling the public yet.” He grabbed his phone and got into the throwaway email account. “But they haven’t answered your message yet either.”
“Likely because they’re investigating where it came from.” Larkin had to be uneasy too, despite his cool tone. His plate of food, Merrick noticed, was barely touched; Larkin was mainly sticking to coffee. “In a different article,” Larkin added, “I see that a human party out to survey terrain in the fae territory has yet to return. Inadvisable, that mission, I would have said.”
“They have fae guides with them, but yeah, it was a big debate even so. Part of Riquelme’s stupid highway plan. Hang on, I’ll check some other sites.”
Merrick ran a few searches on his phone, sticking to the Eidolonian intranet that no one from outside the island could access, though Eidolonians could view the rest of the global web. “Still nothing about you or Ula Kana. I guess that’s good. Maybe the diplomatic solution will work, like you were saying.”
“Let us pray so.” Larkin pulled his braid over his shoulder and looked down at it. The red of his hair contrasted vividly with the six or seven green fabric clovers. “They’re trying to summon me. I feel a faint tug now and then toward the west.”
Merrick lifted his face sharply. Larkin adjusted a bobby pin in his braid, his demeanor still calm.
“Then keep that charm on all the time,” Merrick said.
“I shall. But won’t they seek me with dogs or fae or others who have a talent for tracking?”
“They’ll try, I imagine. But the trail would only lead to the wall of the bower and then stop. Since they don’t know where else to look for you, we probably still have a few days.”
Merrick’s phone pinged with a text.
Cassidy: You need to get him away from here. The sooner the better. He’s going to be trouble and I don’t want Elemi anywhere near him
Merrick: Neither do I. We’re out as soon as I can get us ready
Cassidy: Good. And do not tell me where you hide him. It’s better if I honestly don’t know, in case I get questioned
Merrick: Good thinking
Merrick reached toward the iPad. “Can I see that a second, please?” When Larkin handed it to him, Merrick typed in another search on the browser, clicked a link, then gave the device back to Larkin. “This is an article about cars. I’ll have to take you out in one today. We shouldn’t stay here.”
“Where shall we go?”
“Dasdemir for now. I have a friend there who might have ideas. So make sure you understand what cars are so you aren’t alarmed by riding in one.”
Larkin scanned the article. “Given everything I’ve endured, I don’t think what would alarm me most would be a rolling form of conveyance. You’d do far better to worry about Ula Kana, mark my words.”
“Yes. Thank you.” Merrick took his plate to the sink.
A few minutes later his phone delivered another text.
Sal: Hello! Well I’m sure you don’t have much to worry about, but call if you want to talk. I’m in Miryoku now – festival visit with another friend. I should be back in Dasdemir later
Merrick relaxed, but only incrementally. He didn’t want to risk a phone call to discuss this; better in person. Not that he was looking forward to the conversation, since she wasn’t likely to consider it “nothing to worry about” once she’d heard what he had done.
Merrick: Thanks Sal. I’m coming to town soon, and I’ll be in touch
“I’ll go shower,” Merrick told Larkin. “Come up to the third floor when you’re done with your coffee and we’ll find you some more clothes to bring, then we’ll get packed.” He moved toward the hall.
“Highvalley.”
Merrick swung back in, his hand on the door frame. “Yes?”
Larkin continued gazing at the iPad. “In Dasdemir, I suppose we must avoid any locations where I might be recognized.”
“Probably. No hanging out by the palace gates or Parliament.”
“Nor Barish Temple.”
“Barish … ?”
“Where my family is laid to rest.”
Merrick let his hand drop from the door and stood straighter, in a more deferential posture, though Larkin still wasn’t looking at him. “Oh. Well … if you want, we could try. Maybe we can find an endo-witch to alter your appearance first … ”
Larkin waved it away, a casual lift of his ring-adorned fingers. “’Twas only a notion. It’s best we stay away for the time being.”
“You’re … all right?”
“I’m well. Thank you.” Larkin gave a nod over his shoulder.
Merrick walked out into the hall, Larkin’s dignified grief pushing down like a weight on Merrick’s chest. He looked automatically at his phone when it buzzed with another message.
Cassidy: Also you might as well bring some of our festival scents to drop off in any towns you happen to be in
Merrick: Ah shit the festival. I’ll do that, but I guess I have to cancel my cameos in the play. Can you take over? Please?
Cassidy: Playing Larkin. Really. This week in particular.
Merrick: Yeah I know
Cassidy: All right but you owe me
Merrick: Yes I do. Thank you
Cassidy: Leave the wig in the perfume lab
CHAPTER 13
LARKIN FELT ENTIRELY UNPREPARED TO ENTER the wider society of Eidolonia with only eight or nine hours’ introduction to this century. Nonetheless, Merrick had soon supplied him with additional clothing and toiletries, helped him pack them into a knapsack, and was leading him down the stairs to depart. Merrick carried a separate knapsack, along with a wig of long orange hair notable for its artificiality and ugliness.
Larkin adopted a polite tone. “Is that the fashion for going out nowadays?”
Merrick glanced at the wig. “No. Not at all. It’s … for a festival costume. I was leaving it in here.” On the ground floor, he darted into a large room lined with glass-fronted cupboards of colorful bottles. Beautiful scents drifted out of it. Merrick re-emerged without the wig, carrying a large box instead. “Taking these into town. Perfumes we made for the festival. It’s what Cassidy and I do.”
Merchants, then. Unsurprising. “Is it a festival time?”
They went out the front door. Sunshine and cool spring air washed over Larkin, clean and sweet. Lord, he had not breathed fresh outdoor air in two centuries.
“Water Festival. Started yesterday.” Merrick went to the car and opened a cunningly made door upon its back. He put in their knapsacks and the box.
“If it’s mid-March, I suppose it must be.” Larkin tapped his fingernail upon the glittering gray metal shell of the car. “How many festivals are there in the year now?”
Merrick shut the door. “Seven. Earth, Air, Water, Fire, Lord, Lady, Spirit. Though not in that order. Some people have other religions too and celebrate Ramadan or Hanukah or Christmas or whatever, but those are less common than the Temple festivals.”
“Similar to what we had, then, at least before Ula Kana began attacking. Then many of the celebrations fell by the wayside, as they only seemed to make her angrier, seeing her fellow fae enjoy anything humans did.” Larkin looked past Highvalley House, up at the mountain in the fae realm, with its impenetrable tree cover, moss-green shadows, and misty crags.
That puff of cloud—was it in fact smoke?
He shivered and followed Merrick around the side of
the car.
The picture of the modern world Larkin had formed from his reading was that humanity had become far too populous and too enamored of their own inventions, which had destroyed much of the natural world and spewed polluting substances into every last inch of the air, earth, and sea. As the ubiquity of automobiles appeared to be one of the major contributors to the pollution, Larkin had begun viewing cars as sinister and was not particularly looking forward to traveling in one.
He found, however, that the car did not give off an air of evil when he climbed into the open door that Merrick indicated, next to the seat of the driver. The interior was made up of soft curves in fabric and leather and what appeared to be wood but was probably “plastic,” another of the inventions consuming the planet. Within, it smelled alluringly of leather and sweet spice.
Merrick, who himself smelled of similar things today although he wore no leather, took the seat next to Larkin, behind a plain, spokeless wheel. He poked his finger at a round shape upon the front panel. A thrumming sound and vibration started up beneath Larkin. He understood this to be the engine—that much he had gathered from his reading—and prided himself on not reacting to it. Casting his eye across the panel, he deduced that the many initials and symbols were ways to operate the vehicle through touch.
“What function does this have?” He reached for a knob with no letters upon it.
“Radio volume. Don’t touch anything, please.”
With a huff, Larkin retracted his hands again. Merrick tugged on a large lever, and the car began rolling forward. Larkin was pleased by the sensation, which was more akin to setting out in a sailboat than to the jolting ride of a carriage.
Merrick made occasional remarks about how, thanks to magical enhancements, Eidolonian cars were safer and cleaner than cars in other parts of the world—they didn’t require “seatbelts” or “airbags” or “gasoline,” and gave off no “carbon emissions.” Those words had been among the many Larkin had read on the subject, but he could not remember exactly what they meant, so he only hummed in agreement and observed the outside world.
Most of the dwellings they passed were more modest than Highvalley House, a mere one or two stories, built of the island’s timber with shingled black roofs likely made from volcanic gravel. As they descended the hill, the houses increased in number, and gleaming metal signs marked the streets, including one that read “Welcome to Sevinee.”
