Lava Red Feather Blue

by Molly Ringle

  Merrick pulled up after a few moments, smiling. “Probably not how I’m supposed to behave toward a prince.”

  Larkin gripped Merrick’s backside to hold him in place. “Indeed, you ill-bred commoner, how dare you?”

  Merrick laughed, touched his chilled knuckle to Larkin’s cheek, and from his shy manner seemed about to say something affectionate. Then he sprang up onto hands and knees, becoming alert. “Hey. Do you want to go into the fae realm with me and use Rosamund’s plan to catch Ula Kana? I’m leaving first thing in the morning.”

  “That sounds absurd and suicidal. And since I’m now a fugitive from the law and wholly distrust the government in this matter, I might as well say yes.”

  “Excellent.” Merrick took his hand to help him rise, though as Larkin climbed to his feet, it was Merrick who swayed, still weakened from that powerful flight.

  Larkin steadied him, holding his arm as they wended their way through the garden. “You’re not joking, then?”

  “Come meet Sal. We’ll explain.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Cassidy: Well NOW they’re looking for you, dumbass

  Merrick: I’m fine. You and Elemi ok?

  Cassidy: Yes. E says “they looked SO COOL flying like that!!!” But I told her not to emulate you, like, ever

  Merrick: Tell her thanks and Larkin says hello :)

  Someone had captured their swoop into the crowd on video, and the news was running the clip. At Sal’s kitchen table, Merrick showed Larkin and Sal the footage.

  Larkin remarked, “We do look rather valiant, Highvalley.”

  They also looked surprisingly natural wrapped around each other like that, but Merrick shoved that thought aside. A delectable surprise kiss in the garden was a fine thing, a quite distracting thing in fact, but they had only been celebrating; they hardly knew each other; they had far more important issues to deal with. Even if his heart did beat deliriously fast every time he thought of it.

  Authorities had quickly figured out who Merrick was—Feng of course had recognized him at once, not to mention his rare flying ability marked him out—and the news was broadcasting Merrick’s name along with his age, occupation, and a few sound bites from random people who knew him. The citizenry was asked to call the police if they knew his whereabouts, or Larkin’s.

  Nye, Feng, and seemingly everyone else Merrick knew had texted him. Feng’s message was: I’m sorry, but you know I’m obligated to tell what I know of you. It’ll go much better if you turn yourself in. Please trust me and cooperate.

  “Yeah, no,” Merrick muttered, and didn’t respond.

  The pressure was definitely on: he had to leave tomorrow morning at the latest, or risk getting Sal in trouble for harboring the two of them. Surely they’d be found here before long. Sal had used her hob magic to throw a protective spell around her property, promising, “No one’ll be able to trace you here, not even fae, not unless they come past the boundary. And I won’t answer my door till you’re safely away.” Merrick’s friendship with her wasn’t widely known in any case, but sooner or later someone would think to ask her. Or the neighbors would notice Merrick or Larkin coming and going, unless they hid indoors at her house forever.

  The police had already visited Nye to interrogate him, Nye said in texts. Nye played up the “befuddled old man” act, reporting that, yes, Merrick and Larkin had stayed with him the previous night, but Nye hadn’t quite understood Larkin’s true identity until the attacks happened and Larkin requested a ride to the palace. Nye hadn’t seen either of them since.

  Police had also visited Cassidy, who told them, with the consummate skill of someone who couldn’t lie but had found ways to tell misleading truths, that Merrick had left for Dasdemir on business the day before, and that while he had always admired Prince Larkin, Cassidy had not predicted at all that he would be whisking the prince off the palace balcony.

  No one asked, luckily, whether Larkin had been with the Highvalleys from the start. The authorities were still operating under the assumption that the portal had led to somewhere in Dasdemir. Without Rosamund’s charm, no one had been able to open it to find out.

  The police had accepted the Highvalleys’ stories for the time being and moved on. But they surely wouldn’t go as easy on Merrick once they caught him, and who knew what they’d try next on Larkin?

  So Merrick and Sal walked Larkin through the maps, the charms, the gifts, the whole near-impossible plan.

  “It’s madness,” Larkin finally said, “but admittedly a better prospect than Riquelme or the Researchers have. Sal, you say the government wouldn’t gain any particular advantage if given these items?”

  “I don’t believe so,” she said. “Purity of intention, humility of approach—that sort of thing matters most to our kind. And we can see right through people to it.”

  “Then in our case … ” Merrick said.

  “You two might fare all right. I mean, you’re half fae, and you’re the unwilling victim of Rosamund.” She nodded to each of them in turn. “Plus you’re both connected to the enchantment that held Ula Kana. They’ll find that interesting, and being interesting keeps you alive longer in there.”

  “You wouldn’t honestly, though, would you?” Merrick asked Larkin. “The fae realm? You don’t have to.”

  Larkin picked up the crystal egg. Merrick remembered how that first night, in the library in Highvalley House, Larkin had shoved the box away with a book, refusing even to touch the items.

  “I used to fear entering the fae realm more than anything.” Larkin turned the crystal. “Now I believe I would rather go anywhere, even there, than back into that horrid sleep.”

  “Could be similar, in ways,” Sal said. “Faeryland is often said to feel like dreamland. They affect your perceptions, your senses. They reach in and pull up emotions in you that interest them. They don’t make you do anything that isn’t already in you; they just exaggerate what’s there. Like dreams do.”

  “Which is why we need to stay dosed with this.” Merrick picked up one of the two glass spray vials into which he had decanted the lucidity potion.

  “Yes. Never forget. That’s your best hope. Keeping your wits about you.”

  “I still have the resistance charm.” Larkin took the coiled chain from his pocket, where he had put it after untangling it from himself and Merrick. They hadn’t needed it within Sal’s protected walls. Larkin said he couldn’t even feel the summoning tug anymore, and neither could Merrick, though the authorities had to be trying.

  Sal shook her head. “That only works against witches’ magic, and only the kind that’s trying to compel you. Won’t stop fae magic at all. In there, stick to lucidity.”

  With a grimace of regret, Larkin set the chain on the table. “We enter the realm through the swamp, then.” He touched a river delta on the map. “We cross the swamp to reach Sia Fia’s realm, where the enchantment likely to overcome us is that of desire, dissipation, leisure.”

  “Right,” Sal said. “Like dreams where you’re overcome with love or lust or pleasure, and forget everything else.”

  Larkin’s ears, it seemed to Merrick, turned a scorching red.

  Heat spread into Merrick’s face as well. “We’ll be on guard.”

  Not thinking about tackling and kissing Larkin in the garden. Or the shape of his body against Merrick’s. Or how distracting such a companion could be in such a land.

  Larkin picked up the pink egg. “And this is Rosamund’s gift for Sia Fia.”

  “Rose quartz,” Sal said. “When the bearer activates it, it increases their pleasure tenfold. Sia Fia will like that. Also of course, to gain her cooperation you’ll have to partake of her hospitality.”

  This was generally a must when dealing with fae on their own territory: in addition to gifts, they wanted you to participate in something specific before they considered your end of the agreement fulfilled.

  “In her case, likely a revel,” Sal added. “A feast, a party. Not near as unpleasant as some
. But that’s exactly why you have to be careful. Getting enticed could mean oblivion.”

  “I’ve found additional gifts,” Merrick said to Larkin. “For each of the three I have a perfume, and a poem performed by my father.”

  “Human arts,” Larkin agreed. “Very wise.”

  “Then we stay the night there and move into Arlanuk’s land.” Merrick tapped the territory, dark with trees, that curled around the western boundary of the desert and some of the northern.

  “He’s a hunter, an earth faery,” Sal said. “Obsessed with war and fighting. So what you’re likely to feel there, if you aren’t protected, is rage and aggression. And the ‘festivities’ he wants you to participate in will probably involve some kind of fight.”

  “This is what concerns me,” Merrick put in. “I can’t fight. I mean, not with any actual discipline or skill.” He looked at Larkin. “Can you?”

  “I’ve trained with swords, knives, pistols, and bows. That said, I hardly fancy my chances against any faery. Granted, this one is my brother-in-law, and perhaps the memory of my sister will soften him.”

  “It might, and the gifts should help too.” Sal picked up the silver hammer charm. “This is imbued with magic to grant him three guaranteed victories of his choice, next time he wants to take over any other faery’s territory. Can’t be used against humans. Smart of Rosamund to include that provision, but of course she would.”

  “Then finally, if we survive all that … Vowri.” Merrick’s voice fell quieter.

  “Yes,” Sal said, also softer. “Air faery, a sylph. Not a nice bird-sylph like your mother, but a ghoul-sylph. That dream world is more a nightmare. What she brings out is grief, despair, fear.”

  Merrick pulled a shallow breath in and out.

  “The gift for her.” Sal picked up the sphere of lapis lazuli, deep blue threaded with silver and gold streaks. “Vowri hates the light of the sun. She shrouds her land in smoke or clouds during daylight. Rosamund enchanted this to cast the night sky over Vowri’s realm any time she chooses. Again a smart choice. It’s hard to think of any other power you’d want to hand to someone as dangerous as that.”

  “People have disappeared there,” Merrick said. “More often than anywhere else in the realm.”

  “Indeed,” Sal said. “Even we fae can’t always learn what became of them. She doesn’t allow many in; only other sylphs, I hear. I’ve never tried going there—never wanted to.”

  “But what will she want us to do?” Larkin asked.

  “I … can’t predict,” Sal said. “Only that it will be highly emotionally trying.”

  Larkin’s gaze returned to the map, his profile as still and somber as it had been in the bower all those years.

  Sickened, Merrick grabbed one of the obsidian blades. “Best case scenario, we survive all that, and each of the three gets one of these. Then … we go into the Kumiahi.”

  “Yes,” Sal said. “Get into the desert and summon Ula Kana. When she comes, you send up the firework.” She picked up the clay ball. “The three territory leaders send their blades into the ground at their borders, and the shield goes up all around, keeping her in.”

  “Then we run,” Larkin said. “And pray we escape the desert before she catches us.”

  Merrick ran his fingertip over the edge of the obsidian blade. Such small trinkets, carried by the two of them, surely couldn’t achieve such a goal. But even the Researchers and the palace seemed to have no better idea. And Ula Kana, it appeared, was unstoppable otherwise.

  “Then we get back to the human realm,” Merrick said. Which sounded completely impossible.

  “Yep.” Sal put a cheerful chirp in her voice. It rang false.

  They all stared at the map and the enchanted bits of stone, clay, and wood.

  Sal made a humming noise, which for her seemed the equivalent of clearing one’s throat. “You two sleep. I have one more errand to do.”

  Larkin’s mind was all a-tangle. Hope and curiosity battled with overpowering fear, leaving him in a muddle. In the morning, he would walk into the fae realm armed only with his iron sword and a bizarre assortment of items, and accompanied by merely one other man. A man who had lain on top of him and kissed him for a long and delicious half-minute, true, but that circumstance helped him not at all. If anything, it was a dangerous distraction.

  It was safe to say Larkin no longer had any place at the palace, nor would he want one if he did emerge alive from this quest and received complete forgiveness from the government. All of it dismayed him so thoroughly—the attacks he had lately witnessed, on top of those he had lived through in the eighteenth century; the daunting tasks ahead; the treachery at every turn.

  Lord and Lady, how tired he was of Eidolonia. Yet serve it one last time he must.

  It was one o’clock in the morning. Sal’s house was small, and she had but one spare room for guests, where Merrick had slept last night. The bed was large enough for two, and Merrick said as they entered the room, “We can share. I promise not to jump you.” He sat on the bed to remove his socks. “Regardless of certain moments in the garden.” He kept his head bowed.

  Larkin walked to the other side of the bed and sat. “I apologize for that. I think it important that we not allow such matters to cloud our judgement. We will have to rely on one another for our very lives now, and must keep our minds trained upon our task.”

  “Agreed.” Merrick dropped his socks on the floor and flopped back atop the blankets. “Still. You don’t have to apologize.”

  “It was lovely. Truly.” Heavenly, in fact, but now was not the time to wax rhapsodic. “Were it 1799 and we were at court and no one was attacking the populace, I would invite you to visit my rooms at eleven o’clock at night, should you find yourself in the proper corridor.” He cast a brief smile at Merrick.

  Merrick gazed at the ceiling and did not smile. “However, it’s not like that.”

  “No.” Larkin folded his hands in his lap. “I do still mean to leave the island once this is done. Start over again, as much as it is possible for me. I’m sure there are places abroad where former Eidolonians live, who might assist me in finding some employment to occupy myself.”

  Merrick frowned at him. “There are, but … why risk your life, then? If I were you and that were my plan, I’d just leave now. Forget all this. Not that I want you to,” he added hastily.

  “I do it for the innocents who have died. For their families, their loved ones. To prevent any more such deaths, if I can. I do it because I ran away last time, and this time I shall not; and because, strange as it seems, you and I may in fact be the best candidates for the job. But once I am done with it, I wish to be truly done.”

  Merrick’s gaze lowered, black lashes veiling his eyes.

  Larkin left the topic there. Merrick understood. Should they live beyond the quest, Merrick would do well enough without Larkin. He at least belonged to this century and had a family who loved him.

  Larkin removed his shoes and belt and lay down in the rest of his clothing, pulling the sheets over himself. Neither of them spoke as Merrick turned off the lamp.

  CHAPTER 27

  WELL. MERRICK HAD NEVER GOTTEN THE “it’s not you, it’s me” treatment from a prince before. That was a first. Larkin had even been nice about it, which only made it more humiliating. Lady’s sake, it was just a half-minute of celebratory kissing; Merrick hadn’t been proposing they become boyfriends. Which also made it irritating that Merrick even cared about Larkin’s brush-off. They had to focus on the quest, trust one another on a vital level, not sulk over intimacy or the lack thereof.

  Of course, Larkin’s last boyfriend had been killed by Ula Kana. Intimacy of any sort could still be an upsetting trigger. Not to mention that for the prince, everything surrounding him was strange and disturbing. If kissing Larkin had sparked that gorgeous smile for a moment, then that was a wonderful accomplishment, but Merrick shouldn’t hope to achieve it again.

  Still, he knew he would remember it as c
lear as a sunlit sea for the rest of his life: Larkin with freshly kissed rosy lips, lying under him, grinning, his red hair splashed across the moss. That was the kind of thing history books ought to record and never did.

  What would the history books of the future say about Larkin, and about him? He winced to imagine it.

  He hadn’t expected to sleep with all the turmoil in his brain, but flying across the city with Larkin on his back had wiped him out, and he began to doze off. Then Larkin shifted, and Merrick swam back to consciousness.

  “I’m proud of you,” Larkin whispered. “And glad to be with you again.”

  In the dark room, he discerned Larkin’s silhouette, lying on his side and facing him. Larkin’s hand rested between them, a shadow among the sheets. Merrick set his hand on top of it. “I’m glad you’re here too.”

  Larkin laced his fingers into Merrick’s.

  Merrick must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his aching eyes in the light of dawn, the two of them were still in that position. The prince was sleeping like anyone else, on his side and with his hair mussed up, not formally laid out on his back in a bower.

  Panic crept through him as he cradled the warmth of Larkin’s hand. They were only two soft and fragile mortals. They didn’t stand a chance.

  He drew his hand away and got out of bed.

  Less than an hour later, he and Larkin had showered, shaved, and eaten buttered bread and coffee for breakfast. They stood with Sal on her back patio, sorting supplies.

  “Ideally this will take no more than three or four days, in there,” Sal said, “but who knows how long that’ll translate to out here.”

  “Or what Ula Kana and her allies will be doing to the island in that time,” Larkin said.

  “Right. So—let’s give you a week’s worth of supplies. One of these … ” She set a roll of toilet paper into Merrick’s open backpack. “Keep to the trees or clearings where you see dung fae and you’ll be fine.”