Maybe so. But somehow risking a friend seemed much worse than risking myself. Besides, I was more careful than Leona. Not by much, some would argue – but I would never blow up a human’s house and turn him into a toad as she had done, no matter how much he offended or hurt me.
By now, I was shivering and faint. The thought of returning through the gnomes in the Golden Station was daunting. If I didn’t get some sleep, I could easily make a mistake.
I decided to sleep there in the grove. Crawling under the prickly spruce branches, I called on my magic again to make a trench that held warmth, and pillowed my head on the lumpy bag holding my mother’s spellbook.
Chapter Sixteen
NO TREES GROW UPON THE WORLD OF TIRFEYNE. THERE ARE MANY TALL BUSHES, AND A GREAT VARIETY OF FLOWERS, MOST OF WHICH CAN ALSO BE FOUND ON EARTH. OUR HOMES ARE BUILT OF STONE AND PRECIOUS METALS, NOT WOOD. PAPER COMES FROM THE POUNDED STEMS OF REEDS – UNLESS, OF COURSE, IT IS SMUGGLED HERE FROM EARTH.
OUR WORLD IS RICH IN MINERALS AND GEMSTONES. TIRFEYNE ALSO HOLDS A GREAT VARIETY OF INSECT LIFE AND BIRDS. HOWEVER, THERE ARE NO BEASTS – UNLESS GREMLINS OR TROLLS WERE TO BE COUNTED AS BEASTS.
Orville Gold, genie historian of Feyland
‘WE’LL FIND IT here.’ The voice cut through my sleep like a claw raking my ear. A sweet voice, but sharp and hard. Lily Morganite.
My eyes flew open. Daylight filtered through the blue-green needles of the spruce branches around me. The thick branches dragged on the ground, but through them I could see dainty feet in jewelled slippers hovering just above the earth.
Instantly I whispered the spell of invisibility and then held still.
‘How can you be sure?’ Another voice spoke in tones too low to distinguish. A set of genie boots joined Lily’s feet. I noticed that the boots were green and rather new.
‘Zaria Tourmaline is predictable,’ Lily answered. ‘She seeks out the same places if she is fond of them.’
‘But—’
‘The powder will be here, Councillor. Here, where she believes it will be safe.’
Councillor! Which councillor? I strained to hear more. Please, please, I must not give myself away. And the bottle was safe. My spells were unbreakable. No one but me could disturb the ground here. Ever.
The genie tapped one ankle with his opposite foot. ‘Those who are looking through the scopes did not report seeing her on Earth.’ He was whispering now.
‘She eludes the scopes by casting spells of invisibility.’
‘Impressive.’
‘Do not be impressed,’ Lily told him. ‘Be glad. Every time she casts invisibility, she is fifty radia poorer.’
A pause before he whispered, ‘She could be watching us now?’
‘No,’ Lily said. ‘Invisibility must be renewed every ten minutes. Even Zaria is not so reckless that she would squander three hundred radia an hour to stay in this world. Besides, her next move will be to learn what she can about the powder. Mark my words, she is back in Feyland searching for knowledge.’
The genie’s feet almost touched the ground. ‘Why haven’t you been able to track her?’
Who was it? Who among the High Council of Feyland was working with Lily Morganite? If only he would speak up. I squinted hard, but the tree branches blocked my view of where he hovered, and I dared not move.
Silence for a moment. I could imagine Lily frowning. ‘She must have found a spell to mask herself.’ Her voice brightened: ‘At her present rate, in a few months Zaria will have used up all her radia. She will be powerless.’
‘Until then,’ the councillor said, ‘can you afford to gamble?’
‘Watch me,’ Lily answered.
She knelt beside the spot where I had buried my deadly treasures. Through a small gap in the spruce needles, I could see her as she reached into her gown for a cup I recognized – a cup of smoky glass covered with a lid.
I pressed both hands to my mouth as Lily snapped off the lid, upended the cup, and shook it over the ground. She smiled. ‘There is just enough powder to destroy the magic protecting this spot.’
I should have done something. I should have leaped up and used all the rest of my radia. Anything to stop her. But I was frozen, truly frozen with terror. I could not think; I could not move. I lay curled in the trench, my hands over my mouth.
She began digging with a shining silver trowel. Lily moved fast, ladling clumps of rotten needles and dirt. Reaching into the hole, she took out the indigo bottle. She cradled it as if it were a dear child, then stowed it in a pouch fastened to her gown.
She reached into the dirt again. As she brought out the laser gun, she gave a tinkling laugh. ‘Oh, Zaria,’ she said. ‘You can surprise me.’
She put the gun into another pouch, then dug for a while before she grunted in disgust. ‘She has taken the spellbook.’
Without warning, she waved her wand and spoke the transport spell. ‘Transera nos.’ Then she disappeared along with the councillor before I could blink.
My wings were fluttering so hard, they rattled the spruce branches.
‘She has it,’ I sobbed. ‘Lily Morganite has the aevum derk.’ How did she know about this spot? She must have spied on me even more than I had guessed! I hugged my mother’s spellbook and cried, repeating over and over, ‘She has it. She has the aevum derk.’
And what did I have? A few pinches, sealed in a small amber bottle.
At last I crawled out from under the blue spruce branches; I flew back and forth where the grove met the fields. The place was deserted, the grass lying flat and brown, trampled by last night’s wind and rain.
And then I remembered. I had sealed the indigo bottle. Lily couldn’t open it or break it.
Lily had said herself she had only enough powder to destroy the magic on my spot. Not even her gnomes would be able to break my spell. They had not been able to get past the magic I’d laid on my house.
‘I will take back the bottle,’ I said.
How?
Where would Lily hide the aevum derk, and what did she want with it? When she stole it, she meant to use it. For what? And how angry would she be when she couldn’t open it?
Oh, how badly I wanted to see my friends. Taking the bottle from Lily seemed impossible, but maybe together we could come up with a way. The four of us working as one had overcome all twelve members of the High Council of Feyland, and Lily Morganite was only one fairy.
One fairy with swarms of followers. One fairy with billions of radia in her personal reserves. One fairy with a full bottle of aevum derk.
I couldn’t get back to Feyland fast enough. My friends weren’t planning to meet up again until evening, but I couldn’t wait; I’d track them down using enchantments if that’s what I had to do.
From the fields near the grove, I transported to the Cornfield Portal. The sky glowed like azurite, as if it had never known a storm. But where my fey eyes should have shown me a doorway to my world, there was nothing. Nothing but shorn cornstalks collapsing into mud.
The portal was closed!
‘She doesn’t want me to pass this way again,’ I whispered. ‘Me, or anyone else.’
How did Lily know which way I’d come? And how was I going to get home?
I’d either have to search for a different portal or create a new one. Both would take more radia.
In a few months Zaria will have used up all her radia. She will be powerless. Again I was following Lily Morganite’s plans for me, like it or not.
Chapter Seventeen
FEY MAGIC IS MUCH MISUNDERSTOOD BY HUMANS; HUMANS SEEM TO BELIEVE THAT MAGIC CAN SOMEHOW TURN ASIDE PHYSICAL FORCE. THIS IS UNTRUE. FEY FOLK ARE JUST AS VULNERABLE TO PHYSICAL INJURIES AS HUMANS ARE; MAGIC CANNOT SAVE US FROM BLADES, BULLETS OR EXPLOSIONS. WE CAN USUALLY MOVE FAST ENOUGH TO DODGE KNIVES OR ARROWS, BUT ONLY THE VERY SWIFTEST AMONG US CAN AVOID A BULLET.
Orville Gold, genie historian of Feyland
I DECIDED AGAINST looking for the nearest open portal. I didn’t know how much radia it wo
uld take to find it. Besides, I couldn’t know in advance where I would end up once I stepped through an unknown portal. For all I knew, Lily had used some of her vast stores of radia to create a portal nearby. It could easily lead, not into Feyland, but to some other region of Tirfeyne. My protections might be powerful in Feyland, but I doubted they would help me if I landed in Troll Country.
I’d need to create a portal of my own, from a place Lily Morganite wouldn’t suspect.
Again, I thought of Sam’s house. Maybe it had a room that no one used, a room that would be a good place for a portal. It would be worth checking, at least.
I glanced at the sun. It was still early, but not so early that some humans wouldn’t be awake. I mustn’t be seen. Out of habit, I spoke the traditional spell of invisibility. ‘Verita sil nos mertos elemen.’ Another fifty radia gone.
Invisible, I transported back to Sam’s room.
The bed was empty. Silently I glided out through the door. I heard dishes clinking, and followed the sound down the hall. Sam and his little sister Jenna were sitting at a wooden table in a sunny room. They looked cosy there together, Jenna’s long braids red-gold like Sam’s curls.
Their mother poured brightly coloured juice into tall glasses. ‘Drink up, you need to be out of the door in fifteen minutes,’ she said.
‘I don’t get it,’ Sam said. ‘Why can’t I just go with Dad and see the comet dust? It’s not like it would hurt me to miss a day of school.’
The slender woman turned to the stove. ‘University policy. No outsiders. You know that.’
‘I’m not an outsider; I’m his son.’ Sam slid a glass towards his sister.
‘The security is massive,’ his mother said. ‘Why can’t you just be proud that your father is one of the few people in the world who gets to touch that comet dust? And be happy he’s well enough to work again.’
‘I am,’ Sam answered. ‘That doesn’t have anything to do with—’
‘Drink your juice,’ his mother interrupted.
‘What would comet juice taste like?’ Jenna giggled.
Sam’s movements were quick and sure as he frowned at his mother, smiled at his sister, then drank from his glass. I wanted to hover there watching until they left, but it was also very painful to be spying on this human family. There were four of them, although the father wasn’t in the room. Four – the number my family should have been. I’d been only a few years older than Jenna when I lost so much. And my brother Jett had been about the age that Sam was now.
I mustn’t linger. Much as I’d have liked to stay, I had to get back to my friends in Feyland, had to find a spot for my portal.
On my right was a stairway leading down. It was too narrow to allow my wings to expand, so I braced myself with the banister and took the stairs awkwardly on foot, glad of the carpet covering them; it muffled the sounds of my steps. The air began to smell a little musty as I descended. At the bottom of the stairs was a plain door. I opened it, and found myself in a large room with a grey floor and walls. I recognized the texture of concrete.
There wasn’t any furniture. Machines stood along one wall, but the opposite corner held nothing but shadows and cobwebs. A perfect spot for a portal. Untouched.
I floated straight to the wall and then stopped, remembering. I had once sealed a portal, and it had taken a thousand radia. It had also called for an elixir of troll magic mixed with honey from Earth. What would it take to create a portal?
I set my tote on the dusty floor and took out my mother’s spellbook. The advanced spells would be towards the end. I turned the pages till I found the one I sought.
CREATING PORTALS TO EARTH
Requires Level 75 magic and 1000 radia. Durable spell, needs to be refreshed every two hundred years.
Select a deserted location or construct a barrier on the portal (see Barrier Spell). Any solid substance can be used for a portal, including stones, walls, or the ground itself.
Spit upon the portal spot. Touch it with the tip of your wand. Infuse the wand to Level 75. Speak: ‘Chantmentum upana portalis nos Erthe.’
I almost laughed with joy. No troll elixir. No honey. Only spit from a Level 75 fairy or genie. I was a Level 100 fairy, so I could achieve 75 without effort. The thousand radia would be a lot to lose, but I had expected no less.
I read the spell over again. ‘Creating portals to Earth,’ I said. ‘Creating portals to Earth.’
To wasn’t the same as from. Could I open a portal to Feyland from the Earth side? And if I could, where should it lead? Although I would like to connect Sam’s house to my own home in Feyland, I could still hear Lily’s voice: She seeks out the same places if she is fond of them.
Not this time. This time I would go against what I wanted to do. It would be much safer for Sam’s family, anyway, to open a portal to a remote part of Feyland where fey folk were unlikely to blunder into it – and where Lily would have no reason to look. However, I had no personal knowledge of most of Feyland, especially the remote places. Only a few weeks ago, I had made my first trip to Oberon City. Before that, I’d lived my life inside Galena, sheltered land of children and parents. Sighing, I realized I’d have to make up a spell that opened a portal to an unknown place. What if it wasn’t possible to create a portal from Earth, a world whose inhabitants had so little magic?
Sighing more deeply, I accepted that I might waste a thousand radia on a spell that didn’t work.
Chapter Eighteen
PIXIES ARE AN ODD RACE. THEY HAVE THEIR OWN LANDS, AND EVEN THE TROLLS RARELY ENCROACH ON THEIR TERRITORY, FOR IT IS KNOWN THAT PIXIES HAVE A SPECIAL SORT OF MAGIC THAT CAN LURE OTHERS AWAY FROM THEIR DUTIES.
PIXIES ARE FOND OF MUSIC AND DANCING; IT IS ALL THAT THEY LIVE FOR. THEIR BONES ARE LIGHT AND WELL SUITED TO THE MANY HOURS THEY SPEND GYRATING. THEIR THROATS ARE LONG, WHICH ALLOWS THEM TO WARBLE ALL DAY. THEY DO NOT EVEN SPEAK UNLESS IT IS WITH SONG.
Orville Gold, genie historian of Feyland
I LISTENED FOR a full minute to be sure no one else was nearby. Then I spat on the wall in the corner of Sam’s dusty basement. I infused my wand to Level 75 and set the tourmaline tip against the concrete wall. ‘Open a portal from here to a remote part of Feyland.’
Magic moved through my wand. When I put my hand against the wall, I felt no resistance. I had done it!
‘Give this portal a barrier so no human may find it.’ I had to do that spell. Had to. Sam had enough magic to pass through a portal. He must not slip into Feyland again.
‘Goodbye, Sam,’ I whispered to the wall. And stepped through it.
My new portal led to a hilly place where the grass grew as high as my waist. A breeze carried scents I hadn’t smelled before, delicious scents that reminded me of sage plants and rosemary flowers.
I crested a hill and searched the horizon, but saw no buildings, only more hills covered with long grass. Drifting along, I felt like a plumed seed, with no idea where I was.
I turned to go back. I should have marked the portal. Why hadn’t I? Now the waving grass all ran together. I hovered, twisting my dirt-streaked skirts in frustration. There was nothing to tell me which hill I had seen first among all those around me.
‘Allooo?’ called a piping voice.
I whirled round to see someone about my own height, gently swaying with the wind. Her arms were green like the grass surrounding her, and her hair was pink. She looked at me with eyes that shifted colour like water, mostly blue. Happy eyes.
‘Lost, are you?’ she sang. Her voice was as delicate and delightful as the scent wafting around her.
She fitted everything I’d heard about pixies, except her eyes and her voice. Beryl had told me pixies had eyes like smugglers, shifty and sharp – and voices that could flatten a troll.
‘Lost, lost?’ she sang again.
‘Yes,’ I answered, wondering why I didn’t feel worse about it.
Smiling, she beckoned. ‘Follow.’
She turned and weaved through the grass. For no good reason,
I did as she asked and followed her. Although she didn’t fly, she was very fast; I had to pump my wings to keep up as she led across more hills. Every so often she would wave to me, pointing ahead. Somehow, all that seemed to matter was keeping her in sight.
I began to hear music. Flutes, lyres and drums, and also many voices singing. How joyful they sounded, and free of care. Hearing them, I wished for nothing more than to keep listening.
Flying past yet another hill, I saw a wide meadow below. All across it figures swayed, bending and turning. Their colourful heads looked like dancing flowers. Music poured from dozens of instruments, mingling with the voices.
My guide had brought me deep into Pixandelle.
Every young fairy and genie is told to stay out of Pixandelle. Beryl had warned me over and over about what lay in store if I ever let myself be tricked by pixie wiles. She said pixies led travellers astray whenever they could.
I must have stepped out of the portal on the very borders of Pixandelle and Feyland. But there had been no sign of it being a border zone. Had another durable spell failed? Weren’t the borders supposed to be infused with magic? And yet, I had never been alerted that I was leaving Feyland. Why hadn’t I considered all this sooner?
The drums of the pixies pounded my ears with pleasant rhythms while their misty fragrance made my head spin. I wished the music would stop for a moment, just long enough to let me get my bearings.
It didn’t. It got louder, gathering me in. It seemed to form into a sparkling shield around me, protecting me from all my sorrows, easing my troubles. I heard words in the melody now:
‘Dance for ever, for ever dance …’
I floated to the ground, and the pink-haired pixie ran to my side.
‘Dance, dear fairy, dance upon the air,’ she sang, her voice blending with the music swirling around us, her smile warm.
She wanted only what was best for me.
What if there was nothing wrong with being here? What could it hurt to take a few minutes to dance one song? I smiled back at the pixie, who urged me closer to the drummers. My arms moved in a flowing motion; my feet twirled, and my wings caught the currents of the breeze. I felt light and free, happier than I had been since …
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