The Waking Magic (Winter's Blight Book 3)

by M. C. Aquila

  “You imagine I enjoy being stranded in this castle while others seek to prove their mettle?”

  “I know you do not enjoy it. In spite of that truth, you have always given your best effort to the task, for the good of us all.

  “Do you not see that I hold you in the highest esteem? I fear that my circle of trusted friends dwindles by the day… Yet I know I can always trust you. I feel safer knowing that you are here to aid me.”

  Cai was stunned speechless for a long moment before he knelt before him. “Then I accept your decision, my king. I will serve in your stead to the best of my ability. I will not disappoint you.”

  “Stand up, Cai. I know you will not disappoint me. You never have.”

  When Iain came back to reality, he was lying on his back, breathless, his head spinning with thoughts and questions. But his excitement was short-lived as James thrashed wildly in his sleep and smacked him in the face with the back of his hand. Rubbing his face and pushing his brother’s arm off, Iain decided to sort it out in the morning.

  As he helped their hosts prepare breakfast, Deirdre burst inside. She was beaming, and the room grew brighter for it, shining through the rainy gray morning. Iain didn’t realize he was staring until he accidentally spilled hot tea over his hand.

  The family instantly put her to work, and she obliged eagerly.

  “Had a good rest then?” Iain asked her as they slid past each other while they went back and forth helping around in the caravan.

  “Yes!” Deirdre nearly pumped her fists in the air, but she was holding a tray of food and stopped herself in time. Then, in a quieter voice, she said, “Something happened—I’ll tell you later!”

  “Later. Count on it.”

  After helping to clean up after breakfast, Iain stepped out of the caravan and into the cold, damp morning, set down the cup of tea he was holding, and stretched out his sore muscles. With each bruise that ached, his determination was renewed as he was reminded of how badly that Red Cap encounter had gone. And how much they needed Cai’s aid.

  Iain thought all morning about what the amulet had shown him. There was something so familiar about what he had seen, but he could not place it. He tried to puzzle it out until his head hurt, but no matter what conclusion he came to, he still felt as if he was missing something.

  Cai was a steward of Camelot as well as a knight. That obviously makes him more qualified than most people to do something about this conflict. I was right to think that, at least.

  Resolved, Iain searched for Cai, carrying the cup of tea as a peace offering. In the early-morning hours of his shifts as an Iron Warden, he had heard a lot of blokes discussing various hangover cures, so Iain had whipped up a much milder concoction of his own based on those.

  Cai was sleeping on the ground outside one of the caravans by the tree line; when he neared, Iain hesitated. Cai was passed out, dead to the world. For one horrible second, he was reminded of what that felt like, and it was an ugly mirror to look into.

  Iain crouched down and nudged Cai. “It’s the crack of dawn,” he said firmly. “You need to wake up.”

  After a minute of that, Cai opened one bloodshot eye and croaked, “You.”

  “Me.” Iain grinned. “I told you I’d be here first thing in the morning.”

  “If you don’t take a step back, lad—”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’ll conk me. I get it.” Iain held out the steaming cup of tea to him and said, “This is ginger tea with some vitamins. It will help with the nausea.”

  Grudgingly the old knight snatched the cup from Iain and raised it to his lips. After taking a swig, Cai let out a breath and leaned back, closing his eyes.

  Iain sat down cross-legged beside him. For several minutes, he listened to the early-morning songs of the birds, the rustling of critters in the forest, and the creaking of branches in the wind.

  “What, you’re not going to pester me?” Cai asked. “Reprimand me for drinking last night?”

  “No,” Iain said. “I’m not going to pester you. ’Cause I get it. Why you drink and why you’re ignoring what’s going on with the Summer Court. It’s easier not to care.”

  Cai scoffed. “Oh, you get it, do you? You, a teenager who barely looks old enough to drink, would know all about that.”

  “I didn’t drink alcohol.” Iain took a deep, steadying breath. “Have you ever heard of Pan? How about faery water?”

  Cai snapped his head to look at him with stern green eyes, lowering his cup of tea. Then in a flash, his features twitched into a lazy smile, and he said, “A goody-two-shoes like you wouldn’t play with something like that.”

  “I wish I was messing with you, but I’m not.”

  Side-eyeing him, Cai asked seriously, “How long has it been?”

  “Around three years.” Rolling his shoulders, Iain admitted, “Well, I nearly botched it up a little over a week ago. But still, three years sober.”

  “Three—” Cai swore. “How bloody young were you?”

  “When I first started? Fourteen. Maybe a little younger.”

  “Kids that young don’t usually get into things like that on their own. There must have been someone older. A girl, perhaps?”

  Iain opened and closed his mouth uselessly, but no words came out.

  “I knew it.” Cai chuckled. “There’s always a woman involved when your life falls to shambles.”

  “That’s not true,” Iain countered, frowning. “And anyway, she wasn’t all bad. She just… didn’t want to get better, but she didn’t want to be alone in it, you know?”

  “So she dragged you down with her, aye?” Cai chuckled again.

  “It was my choice. And anyway, I wasn’t exactly protesting.”

  “Then she wasn’t worth your time.” Cai scoffed. “If a girl makes you want to better yourself for her sake, to care for her, then that’s how you know she’s not a complete waste of your energy to court.”

  Iain had never considered that.

  “Well, I want to be better now,” he said. “I want to be a good person—one who would never make those mistakes. I want to be someone whom people can depend on. I don’t want to shut people out anymore or pretend I don’t care.”

  “And your reason for this wouldn’t have anything to do with someone in your group, would it?” Cai asked. There was slyness in his tone, but Iain couldn’t figure out what it meant.

  “It’s for lots of reasons.”

  He stared ahead at the line of trees across the road. The sun was still rising orange through them, and it looked as if the trees were on fire with it.

  “The withdrawals were the worst part,” Iain said after a minute. “Actually, they weren’t the worst part. The worst was what I did because of them.

  “After I… accidentally overdosed when I was with her, Elaine got scared and just dropped me off on my street. I was out of it, but after I woke up a day later, my dad and my brother had found out, and I was on lockdown.

  “One night, the withdrawals were so bad…” Iain shook his head at the hazy, fevered memories. “I would have done anything to make it stop. So when Elaine called and asked to meet, I agreed, after everything—and when I got downstairs, I saw my little brother camping out by the front door so I couldn’t sneak out.”

  Iain’s throat tightened. He felt Cai’s stare on him from the moment he mentioned James.

  “You’d think that seeing him hurting like that, I’d have marched back upstairs and held out through the worst of it. It’s one of my biggest regrets that I didn’t. Instead, I just snuck out the back garden and climbed the fence.”

  “You were young.” The old knight shrugged. “Youth make mistakes. I know I did.”

  “That doesn’t change what happened then or a week ago when I almost—” Iain rubbed his face, exhaling.

  “But you didn’t.”

  Iain lowered his hands and looked at him. “Yeah, but I had thought about it.”

  “So don’t do it again and do better.” He shrugged once more.<
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  After giving a quick nod, Iain produced the amulet from his pack. Cai stiffened when he saw it and half reached out for it only to pull his arm back to his side.

  “When I found it in the cave,” Iain said, “the amulet had something written on it. Something personal to me.”

  Cai stared at it. “It does that sometimes.”

  “It said forgiven, which is why I took it.” Iain continued, his voice strained. “I’ve let down my little brother too many times. That’s the worst feeling in the world. I want to be forgiven for that.”

  The man sat there, his eyes glazed; for once, the tired look in his eyes seemed to match his ancient age. Then he finally said, “Your brother will probably turn out all right. He’s clever and resilient. And irritating.”

  At the last descriptor, Iain laughed, releasing the tension in his chest. “Yeah, he is clever. I tell him that all the time, but I don’t think he believes it when it comes from me.”

  They didn’t talk after that for a while. Sitting in the quiet beside him reminded Iain of being back home, of early mornings with Dad: generally silent but not in a bad way. It was strange, missing that, after everything he knew now.

  But I guess I never really knew him. I don’t even know who he is now, besides a monster. That’s what Deirdre called him. A monster. Still, I don’t think he was always like that.

  “You know,” Iain said, “I was raised to think about the Fae how you do.”

  “Oh, here we go again.” Cai took a long, loud sip of tea.

  Iain continued, “My dad said that faery magic was sneaky and twisted. He said there was no difference between Seelie and Unseelie, that they don’t care about humanity. I get why he felt that way, being in the Cataclysm—but he was wrong.

  “When I met Deirdre, I started looking at Seelies differently, and I noticed something: faeries, they’re kind of like humans. See, you can’t judge the whole lot of them based on a few encounters or by group. You’ve got to judge them as individuals.”

  “You haven’t been alive as long as I have,” Cai said. “If you had been, you’d notice that faeries and people seldom surprise you. The one constant about them is that they’re flawed and selfish. You’d know that they usually let you down.”

  “Usually, yeah,” Iain offered. “But not always.”

  Cai grunted noncommittally.

  Recognizing that the conversation was over, Iain stood and placed the amulet in the front breast pocket of his jacket. “I’ll leave you alone now,” he said, nodding.

  “Finally,” Cai grumbled. But as Iain began to walk away to the muddy street, he heard him add, “Thanks for the tea, I guess. It’s disgusting.”

  Iain was deeply offended. “I like ginger,” he said.

  “Oh, clearly.”

  Iain was halfway to the caravan when he heard the quick footfalls of someone racing toward him. He turned just in time to see a flash of ginger hair before one of Deirdre’s boots slid out from under her in the slick mud. Reaching out reflexively, Iain caught her arm.

  As she got her footing and Iain let her go, Deirdre laughed, then asked, “Were you checking on Cai? I can’t believe how much alcohol his friends gave him.”

  “Yeah. I brought him some tea, and we actually”—Iain blinked in surprise—“had a civil conversation.”

  “Did you really? What about?”

  “Uhh…” Iain’s mouth fell open.

  Deirdre gasped and said, “Before I forget any of the details, I have to tell you about last night. It was the most amazing thing—I was out all night, but it didn’t feel like it, and I connected to Shadow Magic! It came so easily to me, and Alvey thinks it is my primary type!”

  Deirdre’s eyes were lit up, and she tossed her hair over her shoulders, beaming. She radiated confidence. Seeing her so thrilled about it was a welcome change from the other day when she’d wished that part of herself away.

  Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Iain grinned. “Think how much more you’ll learn when we get to the Summer Court. And your parents… maybe they can teach you more about it since this is your primary magic.”

  Deirdre’s mouth parted and her eyes widened. “You think one or both my parents’ primary magic could be Shadow too?”

  “We’ll find out soon.”

  After a pause, Deirdre began to explain all she felt and saw last night but then said, “Why don’t I just show you instead? That’s easier, and I want to try it in the daylight!”

  Deirdre grabbed his arm and led him to the edge of the forest. By the caravan where they’d stayed, there was a line of trees that were cast in shadow from the rising sun. They were nearly bare, but their remaining autumn leaves created speckles of shadows and light.

  “You see,” Deirdre said as she stood by one of the shaded trees, her hand resting on the bark, “Shadow Magic isn’t just the absence of light—darkness is like its own thing, material, but not exactly. Its energy is everywhere shadows are.”

  As Deirdre concentrated, Iain gaped as one of the shadows on the bark leaped from tree to tree. His shock faded, and he wheezed a laugh as she twisted the darkness into shapes like a child’s shadow puppets.

  “Is that a dog?” he asked, laughing harder, his ribs aching.

  “Oh, it’s supposed to be a duck.”

  “What kind of ducks have you seen?”

  As Deirdre wiped her eyes and let out a laughing hiccup, James stepped out of the caravan. He half-heartedly attempted to stretch before giving up.

  “James,” Iain called out. “You’ve got to see—!”

  “Wait, Iain.” Deirdre held up her hands. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  But James had already spotted them and was trudging over. As he neared, his smile appeared for the first time that morning. “What are you talking about? Did you find something? Is it a faery?”

  “It wasn’t anything important.” Deirdre swatted her hand through the air. “Anyway, did you sleep well, James?”

  Although Deirdre was a very powerful faery, she was a poor liar.

  James frowned, unconvinced. Then he flicked his gaze to Iain. “When are we leaving?”

  “We just need to wake Alvey.”

  “I’ll, um, I’ll do it.”

  “Good luck,” Deirdre murmured. “She almost bit me when I tried.”

  The moment James was out of earshot, Iain turned to Deirdre and asked, “Why didn’t you tell him about the Shadow Magic?”

  Sighing, Deirdre raked fingers through her hair. “It’s just that sometimes James looks at me like he’s more interested in my magic than he is in being my friend. And lately he’s just been… cold, and I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

  She’s noticed his attitude shift too. It wasn’t just something I’d imagined.

  “I know,” Iain said. “But he’s going through a lot right now, with what’s happened with our dad and everything else. But, Deirdre, he cares about you. You’re his friend.”

  “Okay. You’re probably right.” Deirdre smiled faintly. “Thanks, Iain.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Iain nodded. Then he gestured toward the road and said, “Er, I’m going to pack up. We need to get moving.”

  Most of the caravans packed up and drove on by midmorning, leaving the walking groups behind to catch up later. Once the group had managed to rouse Cai again to start their trek, they walked along the muddy gravel road toward the Wayfaring Festival. Ushered onward by the building storm clouds overhead, Iain strode with purpose, confident that they would find Delphina and that she would have the answers they needed.

  She’ll help. If she’s anything like Mum, then she’ll help us out.

  Iain walked next to his brother and said, “We’re close now. Close to finding Mum.”

  “I know.” James reached up and adjusted his scarf, which was meticulously clean.

  “Nervous?”

  “No. Why would I be?” James scoffed. “I
t’s Mum. She’s the same Mum.”

  They caught up with another group of travelers with whom Deirdre, Cai, and Alvey were keeping pace. Iain jogged to close the distance, beckoning James to follow.

  “—mayhap we can make it a double wedding, aye?” Alvey was saying, her voice taking on its usual slyness.

  “Alvey…” Deirdre sighed.

  When the boys caught up, Deirdre looked relieved and drifted over to them, saying, “They were just telling us about how there is going to be this beautiful wedding at the Wayfaring Festival, and almost everyone is attending!”

  A middle-aged blond woman with a thick northern accent turned around and said, “Aye, it’s so. The wedding is for the director of the event and a fellow on the setup team. What a whirlwind romance that was! There’ll be a parson, of course—always been on hand for events like this for the past ten years. You’d be surprised how many weddings happen in the heat of the festival. People make choices there that change them forever, for good or ill.”

  “I just hope we can find Delphina in a crowd like that,” Iain said.

  “Before the wedding,” the woman continued, “most people will be at booths for buying and selling. There’re different areas for trades, food, music, and…” She lowered her voice and said, “The weird ones gather at the outskirts. Wouldn’t go there unless you’re looking to score some Pan.”

  Iain’s stomach churned. He walked ahead, not hearing much of the rest of the chatter over the sound of his heart pounding. Sweat bloomed on his skin despite the cooling breeze.

  Focus on finding Delphina. Finding Mum. Just focus on that. One thing at a time, one step at a time.

  Chapter Ten

  To Vera, a walk through a forest felt like the beginning of a fairy tale. Stories were like magic to her, keeping her body and mind alive. She had not been a little girl for centuries, but her fondness for tales kept her connected to the child she once was. In the tale of her life, Vera thought that her story began when the Master had found her and taken her in.

  As she tromped over crunchy brown leaves and sticks that littered the forest floor, Vera occasionally glanced behind her and saw a small black shape dart out of sight behind a tree or boulder. It had been following Vera and her brother for days.