Eden Undone (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 2)

by A. R. Meyering

  “Penelope, you’re nothing like that.”

  “No, Hector, I’m exactly like that. She needed me, just like she needed—Dad,” she spat, forcing herself to speak the word which had been taboo in her old home for as long as she could remember. “He walked out on her when she needed him most. He didn’t even wait around for me to be born. He left her all alone, and she had to work herself beyond exhaustion just for the two of us to get by. She gave up everything to raise me and this is how I repay her? I just go and follow that loser’s example.”

  “But Penny, I thought you said since you had never met your father, that you didn’t care about―”

  “Well, I lied, okay? I do care. I hate that son of a bitch for what he did to us! I hate him so much. My whole life I’ve thought about what I’d like to say to him if I ever met him, and I still can’t find something cruel enough to express it. What, she wasn’t good enough for him? The birth of his child wasn’t important enough?” The words seemed to escape from Penny like birds long caged—first one, then the flock.

  “He just left us, he just left this great, big, gaping hole where something wonderful was supposed to be―and the worst part is my mother still waits for him. She still believes that he loves her and that he’ll just come wandering up the drive one day, ready to return to that life that he abandoned. She used to tell me that when I was a kid, you know? She’d sit by the window every morning with her shawl around her shoulders and she’d stare into the fog, like he was just around the corner and it was any minute now…

  “And she’s still sitting there, except instead of waiting for one ghost, now she’s waiting for two. And instead of telling me, she’s just thinking about it―all by herself with nothing but that fog to keep her company. That’s what I’ve done to her.”

  Penny could feel Hector staring at her in stunned silence.

  “Penelope. Penny, don’t cry.”

  “What?” Penny was shocked to realize that her cheeks were slick with tears. Shame filled her as a feeble sob burst from her throat. Hector moved closer, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at her eyes. His unwavering kindness in the face of her admission overwhelmed Penny, and more tears spilled over. She couldn’t seem to stop them, and Hector sat quietly beside her until she got a handle on her emotions.

  “God, I’m so sorry. I have no idea where that came from. I’ve never told that to anyone before. It took me by surprise.” Penny took the handkerchief from Hector and hid her face in it, too ashamed to look at him.

  “It’s quite all right,” Hector said softly. “I just don’t like to see you so distressed.”

  Penny sniffed and lowered the handkerchief to see Hector smiling at her. Her heart took off in a wild gallop, and she awkwardly handed back the handkerchief. There was a long silence, and then Penny stood abruptly. “M-maybe I should go.”

  Hector caught her wrist. “Please stay,” he requested, and she sank into the seat beside him, her head throbbing and her eyes heavy, but her heart feeling strangely lighter.

  “All right. But only because I know you’ll get scared if I leave.” She cleared her throat, her cheeks still rosy, and Hector still holding her wrist.

  Pick a card, any card,” Simon said, extending the deck of cards to Annette, who looked up at him with exhaustion.

  “This is the fourteenth time you’ve done this trick, Simon. I’m bored of it,” she said, rolling her head away from him. Simon dejectedly lowered his cards and sighed.

  Penny leaned closer to Hector to get a better look at picture of a magical device in the book he was reading just as the door slid open and Noah entered wearing his trademark grin. His expression faltered when he saw Hector and Penny sitting together.

  “We should be arriving any moment now, get ready! It’s going to be very cold, so you might want to put on some extra layers,” Noah told them.

  Penny dug through her bag, pulled out her fur-lined coat, and attempted to put it on. She looked at Hector for help and he reached over just as Noah stepped between them.

  “Go on ahead, Arlington,” Noah said hurriedly. “I think Yrax and Feirne wanted to speak to you.” He helped Penny into her coat. “Would you like me to take your bag for you, Penny dear?”

  “I’ve got it. Thanks, though,” she replied, moving past him and falling into step beside Annette, who was fastening a pink capelet around her shoulders and sliding on a pair of matching mittens. The train shuddered to a stop and Penny followed her friends off the cars and out into an underwater platform almost identical to the one from which they had departed. The twelve of them squeezed into the elevator at the end of the platform with effort and soon exited into a dark, high-ceilinged chamber.

  As their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the station, they saw four male faeries waiting for them, sharp smiles frozen on their faces. Penny had seen many faeries in Iverton before, but she never had time to study them up close. It was intimidating. The faeries were each six and a half to seven feet tall, with wide, shimmering eyes and a mouth full of thin, sharp teeth. Each of their fingers was almost half a foot long and their wings gleamed iridescent and insect-like on their backs. The four faeries who awaited them wore intricate silken robes covered in complex designs. One faerie approached the group and bowed deeply, his wings flittering a bit as he did.

  “Yrax, it has been much too long. Welcome home,” he greeted in Fae, then turned to Noah and said in heavily-accented Andronian, “Welcome, King of Men, to the Nation of Faeries. We are sent from the faerie court in Umbrie-Alantier to receive you―my name is Entil.”

  “Good to meet you.” Noah bowed his head, and Entil returned the gesture.

  “Does the king speak Fae?” Entil asked Yrax in Fae.

  “No, not at all. All these humans are ignorant of our language and our ways, so please speak freely and I’ll tell him whatever you’d like, of course,” Yrax told him in Fae. Penny’s heart leapt, and she stepped on Simon’s foot before he could blunder up their opportunity to glean inside information.

  “Good, just what I was hoping for. It’ll be much easier this way. Come along then, the floating palanquins are waiting outside. We’ll arrive in Minter Town tonight, and stay the night in the capital tomorrow.”

  In a cluster the faeries walked ahead. Penny waited until they were all absorbed with speaking to one another before stepping over to Noah’s side and tapping him on the shoulder. He looked surprised to see Penny so close.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Act natural, I’ve got something to tell you,” Penny whispered surreptitiously, watching the faeries to make sure they weren’t paying attention. “Those two―Yrax and Feirne―were just talking to their friends about trying to pull the wool over your eyes while you’re here.”

  Noah’s eyebrows raised, and Penny noticed Damari and Flynn were watching them. “You’re certain?”

  “Absolutely. They have no idea that Simon, Hector or I can speak Fae. I thought you should know,” Penny whispered.

  “I thought something like this might happen,” he hissed, running his hands through his blond hair. “Thank you for telling me, Penny. I somehow knew that taking you along would prove beneficial. Can I trust you and your friends to keep your ears out for me?”

  Penny grinned. “Consider it our duty and honor.”

  Her words seemed to please Noah and he pulled her into a quick, one-armed embrace, then hurried forward.

  Emerging outside, the bitter cold air of the early evening stung Penny’s face. A pine forest surrounded them, with a dirt path holding three huge, wooden palanquins, each big enough to hold six people. Tethered to each of four poles were groups of white birds with wide yellow eyes. The flock rested in almost perfect stillness atop the roofs of the palanquins, watching the group of people approaching.

  “This way, my lord. It will be a swift ride to Minter Town,” Entil said to Noah as he slid open the door of the nearest palanquin and ushered Noah, Flynn, Damari, and Luke inside. The faeries boarded the
other and Penny took the initiative to lead the way into the last one. All six of them crowded inside and the door was slid shut. After a moment of fidgeting as they tried to get comfortable, the palanquin lifted off the ground. Penny did not know what lay in Minter Town or what they would be doing there, but she strongly hoped it would include a warm meal and a soft bed.

  THEY DISEMBARKED IN a town built over the rippling surface of a murky lake, which was encircled by pine trees. Long wooden boardwalks connected the buildings, which were built on stilts rising from the dark water. Faeries fluttered silently through the air above their heads or strolled around the walkways.

  Penny pulled her coat tight against the vicious cold as they walked across the raised planks to an inn. The faeries in their party all flew up to the door, while the humans were forced to climb a ladder that snaked to the front veranda. Yrax escorted them inside the building’s welcoming yellow glow, showed them to their rooms, and ushered them to the dining area. The group was served plates of a dark-colored meat dripping in a thick, sweet sauce, and steamed roots of flowers that turned out to be strangely delicious.

  The dinner conversation grew more casual as the faeries drank their fill of fragrant wine. Penny noticed Noah did not sip any alcohol, though Damari and Flynn were well on their way to getting tipsy. It was during this drunken lull that Entil stopped speaking in Fae to his companions and turned his attention to the group of humans.

  “My, what an interesting collection of people we have here. The Penelope Fairfax and her mysterious friends have come to Aulbaine. The Empress will be very excited to meet you, you know. And who is this, if I may ask?” Entil gestured to Argent.

  “I’m no one of importance. Just call me Argent,” he said shortly.

  “Ah, but I can see you must be a very gifted Crafter from your hair and eyes,” Entil commented in his accented Andronian. “What is your family name?”

  Argent frowned. “Clemons.”

  “Clemons, Clemons…” Entil rolled the word around for a moment, his eyes squinting as he thought. “How familiar it sounds.” There was a silence. Then the faerie beside Entil murmured something, causing Entil’s eyes to brighten. “Ah, yes! My friend reminded me―you were the youngest person to ever be awarded a license from the Crafter’s Guild, yes?”

  “Yeah. That’s me,” Argent admitted, obviously miffed they had recognized him.

  Seeing his discomfort, Entil turned to Annette. “Now, you must also have an interesting story or talent to be in this extraordinary group? Who exactly are you?” he asked genially, and at first Annette laughed, then faltered when she realized the faerie was serious.

  “Surely you must have heard of me. I’m Annette Deveaux,” she said haughtily.

  Entil turned back to his companions and asked them in his native tongue who Annette was. They took some time to consult over the matter. While they spoke Annette’s face went from coy, to shocked, then stopped at despairing.

  “Oh, an actress. How amusing,” Entil said at last, and Annette gave a heavy nod. From that point on, Penny noticed she said less and less.

  THE MORNING CAME too soon. Penny had dreamt of a man who played a flute by a river amidst a world of tangled green and bright sunlight, but woke before she could focus on his face. Their journey in the floating palanquins resumed. Annette finally broke down after they were in the air and expressed her woes out loud again, moaning about the faeries not recognizing her.

  “I knew this day would come. I’ll fade into obscurity, I’ll be penniless. What am I going to do? No one will want me around anymore, they’ll all say things like ‘oh, that Annette Deveaux, she’s so blasé, so past her prime, she’s―’”

  “I’ve had enough of your bellyaching, Annette. Keep it to yourself,” Argent growled from the other side of the palanquin, his arms crossed.

  “You know there are days when I think you might have a scrap of kindness in your heart, but then you go and prove yourself to be a completely insensitive boor, time and time again,” Annette shot back.

  “Oh, don’t take it everything personally, I’m just sick of hearing you whine. You know as well as we all do that you’re going to be just fine. People adore you, for Heaven’s sake. You’ve got more talent in your little finger than anyone else in that silly theater group,” Argent drawled, rolling his eyes. Penny thought Annette might have been placated by this rare compliment from Argent, but it only seemed to incense her further.

  “Oh, that is rich. You’re even stooping to petty lies, now?” she flared, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t notice? I know exactly what you think of my performances. You think I’m a joke, that’s why you never talk about my work. It’s why you’ve never even mentioned a single part I’ve ever played!” Annette pointed an accusatory finger at Argent, but he did little more than narrow his gaze and sigh.

  “Well, if nothing else, you’re proving yourself to be very skilled at jumping to conclusions.” Argent scratched the side of his head. “Use your brain, now. Do you actually think I’d spare anyone a harsh opinion for fear of hurting their feelings? I don’t talk about your work because I think you’re the best. I thought you’d probably be fed up with people gushing, blabbering on about how much they love you, and begging on bended knee to get you to scribble your name on a scrap of paper. That’s the way you look after most of your shows, anyway—body language-wise, I mean. That perfect smile never fails to fool the crowd.”

  Annette froze. “What? Y-you’ve seen some of my shows?” she stammered, her china-blue eyes wide.

  “Every one of them. I told you when we met; I’m a fan of the theater,” he said, and Annette went silent, her cheeks red.

  When the palanquin landed and they stepped out, a fantastic cityscape stretched on before them. The tallest faerie laughed at their expressions.

  “This is the capital of our nation, Sonarie City, the crown jewel of Aulbaine,” Yrax told them, but Penny barely heard him. Her eyes were fixed on the crowd of towering buildings, each one a brilliant pillar of flashing lights. Faeries floated through the air, landing on lofty balconies of the tallest spires, their wings catching the innumerable lights of the buildings around them. Everything was covered in sleek metal or pale stone. Although the sun had long since set, the artificial lighting painted a bright picture.

  “This makes San Francisco look like a village,” Simon goggled, leaning so far back as he craned to see the tops of the towers that his hat almost fell off.

  Yrax raised an eyebrow. “Where is San Francisco? I am not familiar with it,” he cordially asked Simon, who at once realized his mistake and pretended not to hear Yrax at all.

  “Is that where we’re staying?” Noct asked Yrax as uniformed faeries took their palanquins and birds into a chamber underneath the tower.

  “At the top of it, yes. It’s made up of many different facilities; restaurants, shops, business offices, a Crafter’s Guild satellite, and a few floors for entertainment, I believe. The hotel is at the very top―it’s known world-wide, and almost impossible to get a reservation, but we are part of the royal escort! I’ve dreamed about staying here ever since I was a faeli.” Yrax sounded as if he were trying to keep his excitement at bay, but there was a wide grin on his pale face.

  “Enjoy it while you can. Tomorrow night we’ll be sleeping in the snow,” Feirne chuckled and led their party into the colossal tower. Inside, bright pictures, advertisements, sounds, smells, faeries in couture robes, and diverting store displays were squeezed so tightly into the room that it seemed to be bursting. They cut through the crowd in a line until they reached a glass elevator that ran on pneumatic pressure. Even with the overwhelming speed that propelled them upward, it took over three minutes to reach the hotel at the top of the tower.

  It was much less chaotic when they exited into the hotel lobby. Calming faerie harps could be heard playing in the lobby, which was accented by live plants
and flowers and dark stone fountains. Entil’s group confirmed their identity and were led into a wide hall. The faerie at the desk led them down a hall to two doorways that faced one another. Without discussion, the humans and the faeries separated into two groups and stepped inside.

  The room was a series of connecting sections with partitions that could be moved to separate them. It was spacious and richly decorated with the finest of furniture and rare flowers. Penny saw the same type of mat-like beds that were at the inn the previous night. She and Annette explored the room, marveling at the strange and unique décor. Luke took a seat on the couch in the middle of the room, fiddling with the frames of his glasses. Damari strode to the window and smiled broadly.

  “Look at this. Come see,” he said, gesturing for the rest of them to join. Penny dashed over to his side with Annette close behind her, and the two of them gasped at the scene that lay outside. They were at such a dizzying height that Penny almost lost her balance for a moment, but the sight of the glittering city with its twisting roadways and unending activity astounded her. The buildings and spires trailed off into the distance as far as she could see and neither mountain nor forest was anywhere in sight.

  “Now, that’s something,” Flynn marveled as he looked out across the capital. “I never thought I’d see this place in my lifetime, much less see it like this. Noah’s been bragging with stories about how great Sonarie City is ever since he first went as a kid.”

  “I can confirm that,” Noah said as he joined them. “Although now that you’ve come here, I’ll have to find some other way to irritate you, unfortunately.”

  “I don’t doubt it. If there’s one thing you know how to do well, it’s that.” Flynn and Noah laughed together and Penny smiled.

  “Now is that any way to address your superior?” Noah teased.