The Waking Magic (Winter's Blight Book 3)

by M. C. Aquila

“And what purpose would that be?”

  Alan touched the old stone walls. “For whatever reason, Unseelie faeries cannot tolerate coming near supposedly sacred or holy ground, which is why the forgotten churches of this country will be put to good use as fortresses for the Iron Guard.”

  As he was leaving the orphanage minutes later, Sister Teresa stormed up to him, clearly taking the situation harder than Mother Superior and not yet possessing the maturity to contain her emotions.

  “General Callaghan,” she said. “The city is no place for these girls. This is the only home they know. You cannot send them away. Please.”

  He looked away from her brown eyes and her olive-brown skin that was slightly flushed from catching up to him like he could not bear to see them. “You ought to pray about that, Sister. There is nothing else you can do. Now I must be going.”

  “But General!” She grabbed the hem of his jacket sleeve as he turned to leave, and he wrenched away from her like her almost touch had scalded him. She started and backed away. He couldn’t look at her face—not without thinking of Kallista. Not without feeling that empty ache.

  He had to speak to the Master.

  Chapter Five

  Deirdre rested her head on her knees pulled to her chest, awake for the final, early-morning watch in Alvey’s place. While Alvey had helped with the watch the previous two nights, she had snapped her teeth at Deirdre when she tried to wake her, almost biting her fingers, before rolling over, snoring again instantly.

  Sitting at the entrance to the cellar and watching dawn slowly brighten the forest, she thought about last night and sighed heavily—not over the Red Cap or Cai’s strange appearance but instead how useless she’d been in that fight.

  The Earth Magic just wasn’t listening! Or maybe my directions weren’t as good as they could’ve been. She frowned at the morning mists. After I was able to talk to the fog so well last night, I thought I could handle anything. But that was Water Magic… not Earth Magic.

  There are all different kinds of magic, and I can talk to them all, like Alvey said. But what if they only get harder and harder to talk to because some have different ways of responding? Just like the Earth Magic last night.

  She leaned forward, shutting her eyes, her hair falling forward and hiding her face. There were no sounds but the weak crackling of the fire and the singing birds outside, along with the occasional pitter-patter of raindrops falling from tree limbs. The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the gray sky promised more today—and the magic in the air whispered of it.

  It had all almost lulled her to sleep when she heard a shuffling noise, along with a mumbled curse. She spun around just in time to see the strange man from last night—Cai—was rummaging through Iain’s bag.

  “Hey!”

  He stepped back from it, hand on his head, glaring at her. “What is it, girl?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Thought I saw a water canteen. Blasted thirsty, but I drank all mine.” He shrugged and plopped down, immediately wincing and rubbing his side gingerly.

  “I have some water if you want it.”

  He squinted at her face, his frown deepening.

  She frowned right back. “What’s wrong?”

  “Your eyes are purple, aren’t they?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Then no, thanks. You’re a faery. Don’t need any faery water, do I?”

  Deirdre frowned; she’d never heard of faery water before. “Is faery water like Pan, the faery fruit?”

  Cai blinked at her. “You don’t know about faery water? You’re messing with me. Or are you stupid?”

  Deirdre flushed, about to snap at him when Alvey grumbled and tossed in her seat. Staying quiet, Deirdre went to sit again, keeping an eye on him.

  As she sat down, she accidentally scuffed the floor with her boot. Iain sat up straight at his place near the fire, looking around.

  “What’s going—morning already?” He began to stretch, then noticed Cai, eyes widening.

  Cai ignored him.

  “It’s still a while until dawn,” Deirdre said in a low voice. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

  But Iain shook his head, going over and retrieving Cai’s sword that he’d cleaned. He walked over and crouched, handing it to him. “Thank you for—”

  “You didn’t dull it, did you?” Cai rode right over Iain’s thanks, snatching the sword from him.

  “He cleaned it for you.” Deirdre folded her arms.

  Cai squinted at it, then grunted. “It’s been worse, I suppose.”

  Unable to watch a grown person behave like that any longer, Deirdre shot to her feet and pointed at Cai, saying to Iain, “This can’t be the same person the amulet showed us! I mean, he looks similar, but maybe he’s a descendant or whatever, or maybe he stole that sword.”

  Cai froze, looking between them. “What amulet?”

  “I found this in an Unseelie dwarf’s cave.” Iain pulled out the amulet, holding it up for Cai to see. “It… called to me, and it showed me that you were a knight. One of King Arthur’s. I recognized the symbol on your sword.”

  Cai’s hand shook as he ran his fingers over the amulet. He stopped, then he rubbed his eyes and stared at it like he expected it to disappear.

  When it didn’t, he held out his hand. “Give it back.”

  Iain frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “That’s my brother’s, and I’ve been looking for it. It doesn’t belong to you, so give it back. Now.” Cai thrust his hand closer to Iain. “I’d prefer not to take it by force.”

  “That’s not a nice way to ask,” Deirdre said automatically, scowling when Cai rolled his eyes.

  “Look, you lot really believe I’m some knight of heroic legend, don’t you?” His words dripped with mockery.

  Iain immediately replied, “Yes.”

  “How very nice.” Cai gave a jeering smile, then glared. “Then help an old knight out and give him back his amulet!”

  James hissed from where he slept, stirring and mumbling annoyed, sleepy nonsense.

  Keeping the amulet close, Iain sat down on an overturned barrel, his expression serious and voice sincere. “I don’t think you know about everything that’s happening right now.”

  “You think so?” Cai suddenly winced, then settled down as well, continuing in a more restrained voice. “You think that because I’m old?”

  “General Callaghan, the head of the English army, assassinated King Eadred. Now he’s going to the Summer Court to begin a war, and he’s got this machine; it can break through the barrier.”

  “Impossible. You’re mad.”

  “It can break through,” Iain repeated, volume rising as he went on. “And the Court doesn’t know about it, so we have to get there and warn them. Otherwise, they’ll be caught entirely off guard.

  “We need to arrive at the Court before the army does, and to get inside, we need to find the Summer Prince—he’s the only one who can get in and out of the barrier. But once we meet him, we can warn the court and war won’t start, and General Callaghan can be stopped, and the truth about the king’s death can be brought to light.”

  Then he looked at Cai expectantly.

  Pointing at him, Cai said, “That sounds like a good plan. But I can’t help you. So I’ll take my amulet, and you can go on your merry way.”

  Iain hesitated, then asked, “What is the amulet, exactly? And why does it show visions?”

  “Because it’s magic?” Cai scoffed, then snapped, “Just give it back!”

  “Just give it to him!” James shouted from where he still was lying down.

  But Iain shook his head. “No, not yet.” He looked Cai in the eye. “You’ll get it back when we get to the Summer Court.”

  Deirdre’s mouth hung open. Are you serious?

  Cai’s expression mirrored her disbelief. “You really are mad. This is the Seelie’s war. They don’t give a fig about humanity. Way I see it, they’ve brought it on themselves. They’ll
have to deal with the consequences.”

  Iain was stunned, knuckles white on the amulet’s chain. At that point, James finally sat up, rubbing his face, glowering.

  Gesturing to Deirdre, Cai continued, “And seeing as how you have a faery traveling with you, I’d decline anyway. Faeries are always trouble.”

  “You’re a knight,” Iain protested. “A whole lot more people than the Seelies will be affected by this war if we don’t stop it. This affects everyone.”

  James, who had been studying Cai with narrowed eyes, smiled smugly. “He’s not a knight. He’s a ghost.” Before anyone could respond, James continued, “Just think about it. He’s been seen, uh, creeping around the roads with a sword, all raggedy, and he knew how to kill a Red Cap, just like other Unseelies he’s killed. Oh, and he’s looking for a necklace. He’s the Shambly Man!”

  “The what?” Iain scoffed.

  “It was a story we heard last night, back at the town,” James said. “See, he’s not… he’s not a real ghost. But he isn’t a knight either. He’s just looking for that necklace.”

  “That isn’t what I saw last night, James. I saw he was a knight.” Iain shook his head, then turned back to Cai. “You killed that Red Cap last night with just three blows. The night before that, we had trouble just dealing with gnomes. Whatever you think about all this, we need your help. You’ll get the amulet back when we’re at the Summer Court.”

  Cai glared at him, his furrowed brows bristling. “If I’m so strong then, what’s stopping me from just breaking your legs and taking it now?”

  “Hey!” Deirdre jerked forward, fists clenched.

  But Iain was completely unfazed. “You can threaten all you want, but you’ll get the amulet back at the Summer Court or not at all.”

  For a while the two glared at each other, neither even blinking—until Cai groaned, dragging his hands over his face. “Fine! Fine, you filthy thief.” He rubbed the muscles around his wounded side and asked in a low, strained voice, “Where to then? Going north, I’d guess?”

  James answered before anyone else could. “We’re going to the Wayfaring Festival to look for our mum’s”—he pointed to Iain and himself—“sister. Our mum is missing and in danger, and our aunt is the only lead we have. Which is why we’re out here in the first place.” Then he looked at Iain, raising his eyebrows. “Unless you forgot about that?”

  Iain colored slightly. “Of course I haven’t forgotten. I promised we’d look for her, and”—he nodded to Deirdre—“I haven’t forgotten the promise we made to you either. But we can’t ignore what’s happening.”

  James rolled his eyes. “If you’re right about the two courts warring forever, then can’t they take care of themselves?”

  Leaning back and folding his arms, Cai nodded and said, “See, the lad’s smart. He agrees with me.”

  James ignored him, looking at Iain. “Just… just give him the amulet back. Why did you even take it anyway? You said it called to you? What does that even mean?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Iain swallowed hard. “It had something written on it.”

  “What did it say?” Before Iain could answer, James continued with a whining pitch, “I can’t believe you took something from the cave. There was so much cool stuff in there, and no one else got to—”

  “I took the items I needed.” Alvey suddenly interjected with a sniff, still curled up in her chair.

  “Can you lot just be quiet?” Cai sighed. “I’ll go along with you, provided you lot can ever agree on what you’re really doing. I’ll go with you to the Wayfaring Festival, and then I’ll get my amulet back.”

  Iain snapped his gaze to him. “No, you’ll get it back at the Summer Court.”

  “This amulet—that you stole—is really worth all that much to you? Really? More than the opinion of your brother?”

  But Iain ignored him, walking to the fire and getting out his cooking utensils and ingredients, putting the amulet in his pack. Deirdre followed but hung back, keeping an eye on Cai even as he sat back, shut his eyes, and muttered something about kids these days.

  The scent of breakfast finally got Alvey to rise from her pretend sleep, and the peaceable scene of them eating around the fire as morning light showered outside was broken when Iain caught Cai rifling through his pack again. Iain instantly snatched it away from him and then secured it over his shoulder. James rolled his eyes and finished the rest of his food.

  Beside Deirdre, Alvey muttered, “Pray, why is he coming?”

  “Iain wants him to.” Deirdre then assented in a lighter voice, “Plus he did save us last night. And Iain thinks he’s the same knight that he and I saw in the amulet, one alive back whenever King Arthur was around. But that’s impossible, right? He’d be long dead!”

  Alvey shrugged. “True. Even mixed bloods like me die under one hundred fifty years. Mayhap he is cursed?”

  Deirdre looked over at Cai as he took a small sip from his bottle of gin and frowned at him.

  “Whatever it is, I just wish he’d be a bit more polite. He’s an adult!”

  After finishing and packing up, they headed back out into the woods, following maps and the directions Iain had gotten at the trading post yesterday afternoon. But they hardly needed them; once they were back to a main road, the road was full of wheel ruts and muddy, disturbed ground where caravans had passed through.

  Cai tended to swear loudly when faced with the smallest inconvenience, such as a large puddle of mud or their first hill. Deirdre scolded him the first time he did it, only for him to snort and fold his arms.

  “If it displeases your ladyship, then why don’t you tell that cook of yours to give me my amulet now? Then I’ll be out of your ginger… mess that you call hair.”

  “You’re ginger too!” she snapped, pointing at him.

  “Figure that out all on your own, did you?”

  Seething, she hadn’t spoken to him since, trying to ignore him.

  Rain fell lightly, making the road too muddy to walk through (though Alvey’s chair glided onward with ease). They turned off onto an old stone path through the autumn woods, the earthy, cool scents of rain and fallen leaves surrounding them. They were heading toward a pristine waterfall where Iain intended for them to refill their supply, as clean water might be expensive at the festival.

  Deirdre and Iain walked side by side in front of the group, chatting occasionally.

  “How long until we arrive at the festival?” Alvey suddenly rolled up between them, once again narrowly missing Deirdre’s foot.

  “It won’t be until tomorrow even if we keep this pace,” Iain replied.

  Suddenly Cai, who had been lurking at the back, pushed through them. He headed straight for a small boulder under the cover of some trees and sat down. The instant he was seated, he produced a flask from inside his coat, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip.

  “What are you doing?” Deirdre asked him with her hands on her hips, still irritated by his behavior earlier.

  “Oh.” Cai wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “You’re not in a hurry to get somewhere, are you? Because I’ll be needing frequent breaks. I’m old, you know. So you might as well give me that amulet now, or I’ll just keep slowing you down.”

  Deirdre took a deep breath to scold him, when Iain gently touched her arm. “It’s fine. We can stop here for a while. The waterfall is nearby anyway.”

  When they took a break for lunch, James and Iain were seated near, and James was whispering, not too quietly, to his brother. “Iain, bringing him along—it’s not a good idea.”

  Iain hesitated, doubt briefly clouding his eyes. But he replied in a slow, firm voice, “We’ll run into things worse than that Red Cap, James. And if we can get him involved, people will follow him. They’ll listen to him.”

  “Listen to a sword-wielding hobo?” James scoffed. “And, uh, he hates faeries, by the way!”

  “They’ll listen to a knight. He’s seen war, and he’ll know strategy. At any rate, the Summer Court would probably bel
ieve him over… over a deserted Iron Warden charged with treason.”

  After a long sigh, James said, “I don’t get this, Iain.”

  “I know, but I’m trying to start trusting my instincts here, all right? Just give me time.”

  After throwing his hands in the air and tromping away from his brother, James headed in Deirdre’s direction. As he walked, he took his map out of his pack and scoured it with a frown. She hesitated before going to meet him in the middle.

  Smiling, Deirdre asked, “So it’s a spring and waterfall?” She looked over his shoulder at where it was marked on the map.

  He nodded, unsmiling. “Yeah.”

  “How did that happen?”

  As if unable to resist, he straightened and replied, “After the Cataclysm, a lot of what are called faery trees appeared in the English and Scottish countryside, especially up north. They’re usually ash, beech, elm, or even extinct trees. The one up ahead is actually an oak. They’re called faery trees because they just appeared, full-grown, out of nowhere.

  “Also, this one has got a spring coming from its roots, and since it’s at the top of a cliff, it makes the tallest waterfall in the area.”

  “That sounds so pretty!”

  SPLAT.

  The two of them turned, and James let out a peal of laughter. Iain had fallen straight into an enormous puddle of mud, mixed with fallen leaves and sticks.

  Cai was standing nearby, hands raised, an expression of innocence on his face. “My fault.”

  Iain gasped as he pushed himself up; James was laughing and snorting but still managed to barely ask his brother if he was all right. Alvey was stunned, gaping.

  “You did that on purpose!” Deirdre pointed at Cai, her face livid.

  “Now, now. Let’s not go making any accusations,” he said, hands still raised. “Mistakes happen, don’t they? After all, we’re only human. Or I’m only human.”

  “It was dangerous! You don’t know—there could have been rocks or something—you could have hurt him, all because of that stupid amulet! I know it was your brother’s, but why do you have to be so nasty and mean?”