The Waking Magic (Winter's Blight Book 3)

by M. C. Aquila

  “Yes, thanks! Oh, check this out: I can use my magic to get away without them noticing. Look!” She wrapped the shadows around her feet again, and immediately her steps were silent.

  But Cai was entirely unaffected. “Yes, lovely. Hurry up!”

  She turned and shot off for the closest tree, the one they’d just passed.

  “Hey, Deirdre!”

  Wincing at the voice, she slowed and looked over her shoulder; Iain and Kallista were still walking onward, talking, while James brushed past Cai.

  Not James, not now, she thought, tensing at the memories of realizing he had left her behind and his utter lack of any apology when they were reunited.

  He caught up to her, asking, “Where are you going?”

  “I have to go do this thing with the trees,” she said, pointing toward the nearest one. “Bye!”

  “Wait! What thing? What trees?”

  “I have to go. I’m in a hurry!” She turned and began to run.

  But he followed, asking, “Are you taking the bells down? Is that safe?”

  “James”—she slowed a bit—“I’m doing this alone!”

  “But I could help! Won’t you need someone to help carry those bells?”

  “James, you’re not very fast!”

  “But what about when you get the bells and the spiders start moving? You’ll need—”

  She screeched to a halt, heat rising up her neck; she rounded on him and shouted, “I don’t need your help! And I definitely don’t need to be worried about you ditching me again!”

  He blinked, then squared his shoulders. “Deirdre, I’m—”

  “James.” She took in a breath, giving her a chance to level her voice. “I don’t want you to come. I’m doing this by myself, so stay with Kallista. Now goodbye!”

  James didn’t reply, his eyes wide, shoulders drooping. Guilt twisted at her stomach, but she ignored it, turning on her heel and running away through the trees, faster than she’d ever run before. Tears stung at her eyes as she ran, but she swiftly wiped them away.

  * * *

  “This is where Alvey said we’d meet if we got separated.” Iain gestured up to the largest tree in the woods in the middle of the fairgrounds. “But maybe we should still split up and—”

  “She can handle herself,” Cai said dismissively. “She’s from the faery realm. Besides, if you want to help with evacuations, you’ll need to wait to hear Singh and the mayor’s final plan. They should be finalizing things inside the mayor’s caravan there.”

  He jerked his head toward the largest RV, parked among a cluster of caravans under the towering oak tree.

  “The mayor?” Iain asked, looking back at Cai.

  “Singh’s cousin. He’s the unofficial head of the festival.” Cai cut off Iain’s question by saying, “It just kind of happened over the years.”

  Around them, some of the stalls and vendors were packing their things and leaving. Only a select number of groups and families had been notified, those who could be trusted to not raise a fuss and make excuses to leave early, creating more room for the later evacuations.

  Kallista and James were seated close to the base of the central oak tree, chatting. Cai noticed Iain grinning at the pair and glanced over to see Kallista wetting her thumb and wiping a smudge of dirt off James’s nose. The boy was caught off guard but soon protested, flushing.

  “How long do you think the meeting will take?” Iain asked, stepping closer to Cai. “They’re running low on time.”

  “I can’t say. Listen”—Cai gestured to Iain’s pack, which held the young man’s small axe—“is that toothpick of an axe the only weapon you have?”

  “Right now, yeah.”

  “You’re quite horrible with it.”

  Iain raised an eyebrow. “Thanks.”

  “But the axe itself isn’t awful. I would hate to see it be misused by some amateur.” Cai let out a groaning sigh and raised his eyes to heaven as if contemplating some great trial. “If you’d like to use it without chopping your head off, we can work on that while we wait for the mayor and Singh.”

  Immediately Iain’s face lit up. “You’re serious?”

  “It beats waiting and doing nothing, doesn’t it? But if you don’t want—”

  “No.” Iain grinned, his eyes determined. “Let’s do it.”

  “What are you doing with that? Put that down.” Kallista had strode over, placing her hand on Iain’s shoulder as he held the axe with both hands.

  “Cai’s just giving me some pointers, Mum,” Iain said, smiling at his mother.

  “That”—she pointed at the axe—“is not safe, and I don’t want you using it. Put it down or away where it can’t hurt anyone.”

  Cai rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut, wanting to see if Iain would stand firm.

  “Mum, I’ve learned how to use a gun in the military, and this”—he hefted the axe—“isn’t any more dangerous.”

  Kallista paled slightly, her fingers slipping away from her son’s shoulder. She looked between him and Cai, finally looking back to Iain as if seeing him for the first time.

  “Don’t you understand?” she asked in a whisper. “We’re together now, and… and I don’t want you using it.”

  Iain kept his mother’s gaze. “I think there is a need for it, Mum. We’re together, but we’re not out of danger; it’s coming right for us. We just found you—I want to protect you.”

  “You are my child. You do not need to protect me.”

  “And James.” Iain’s voice lowered. “I have to keep protecting him, too, and Deirdre.” He paused, then added as an afterthought, “And Alvey.”

  Kallista stepped back, speechless for a moment until she rounded on Cai. “How do we even know you can teach him? James told me about you. You tried to steal from Iain, and you were drinking just an hour ago! You’re not fit to be doing this!”

  Cai’s insides squirmed, but he rubbed his chin in a purposely careless manner. “Why don’t you ask your son if he thinks I’m fit for it? He’s the one I’m teaching.”

  “Don’t change the subject—”

  “Mum.” Iain stepped beside his mother, placing his hand on her upper back and meeting her eyes. “It’s fine. I promise.”

  Inside, Cai let out a small sigh of relief and had to hide a smile.

  She stepped back from them, shaking her head twice before turning and walking away, hair whipping and fists balled.

  “She brings up a good point,” Cai said, looking at Iain, crossing his arms. “I do drink some. I…” He gestured to his left side. “I have old wounds that can flare up easily. They can—have—stopped me from doing what is needed. Modern medicine doesn’t seem to work for me, perhaps because of the curse… I don’t know. So I take a drink here and there to help with the pain.”

  “Here and there?” Iain asked, eyebrows raised, a smile tugging at his mouth.

  Cai ignored the comment and continued, “But I’ll need my head clear for the rest of the day. But that means the pain may get the best of me.”

  Iain agreed slowly, unsure where this was going.

  Cai took in a deep breath and let out a long sigh, ending with gritted teeth. “I do what I can, but you can’t rely on me. I’ve been stopped by this damned pain before, and I’m sure it’ll happen again. I wasn’t in London when the Cataclysm happened, but I traveled with a large family who was fleeing the city, heading north. I was disoriented at that time by the new, modern world. But they… took a shine to me, tolerated me somehow. And I protected them from the monsters that began to pop up.

  “But as we neared Scotland”—Cai’s gaze dimmed—“we stumbled into a territorial clash between two Fachans.” Iain stiffened, but Cai continued, beginning to pace. “Of course the two beasts turned on us. At first I thought I could handle them, but then”—he lightly tapped his left side—“my mortal wound from ages ago, it flared for the first time.

  “I never knew such pain existed. And because of it, I could do nothing. Not to save
myself, not to save even one of the people who had taken me in… and believed in me.”

  He stopped pacing and rounded on Iain, hand clenched hard on his hilt. “So when worst comes to worst, I can’t just push through it, understand?”

  “I—” Iain broke off, his voice tight. Then he recovered, straightening. “I understand.”

  “Good.” Cai realized he was clutching his sword and let go, his hand aching as he said, “Glad you’re taking it so well. You seemed like the type to believe sheer willpower can overcome everything.”

  Iain scratched the back of his head, saying, “I know it can be more complicated than that. But even if you can’t push through, I’ve got your back.”

  “Right.” Clearing his throat, Cai barked, “Now stand up straighter, and lift the axe off the ground! Your stance is horrible.”

  During the next half hour while messengers entered and left the mayor’s caravan and while the area around them emptied of people, Cai drilled Iain on basic swings with the axe. He criticized almost every movement, pointing out every single mistake. However, most were quite small, and he was pleased to see Iain took it in stride. After the first ten minutes, Iain’s motions with the weapon were more relaxed, fluid, and natural.

  He’d be better with something less clumsy, like a sword. Shame all the ones in this fair are just for show.

  Because the axe was not very heavy and Iain was fit, the drills and swings were constant, and they only paused for one break. Cai wanted to get Iain’s muscles as used to the correct axe swings as possible in the limited time available. It wouldn’t make the boy an expert, but it’d at least lessen his chance of hurting himself or losing control while attacking or defending.

  “Cai!”

  They looked to see the mayor’s caravan door open. Singh, followed by the mayor, exited, the latter heading straight for him. The mayor looked quite like his cousin, though taller and less physically fit.

  Cai noticed Iain stopping to listen and cleared his throat loudly. “Who said you’re stopping? Run through the drills again!”

  Iain complied as the mayor reached Cai and asked, “Will you be staying to work with Singh? He seems to think you’d be helpful.”

  “You honor me, sir.” Cai mock-bowed, smirking. “Happily for him, I’m not short on decent ideas.”

  “You have some strategy?” The mayor waved his hand dismissively. “We already have one decided.”

  “I put my plan into motion nearly an hour ago.”

  Iain stopped midswing, head turning toward Cai, and the mayor gulped. “What does that mean? Is this like that time when you flooded the west road two years ago without my permission?”

  “As I recall, Singh asked me to drive out the Unseelie hounds on that road, and it was the most effective plan,” Cai said with a shrug, looking up at the forest canopy. “Removing the bells should work just as well.”

  The mayor let out a small bark of laughter, then his face paled, eyes bulging. “You’re serious. You’re taking them down?”

  “I imagine at least ninety percent of the bells are removed by now,” he lied, not missing a beat as he looked the mayor dead in the eye.

  “Dammit, Cai!” The mayor stepped forward, hands clenching and unclenching. “Why didn’t you ask me? Or Singh? If the bells are gone—”

  “The spiders will swarm the east side first, and that’s where the army is coming from. And you already started evacuations.” Cai gestured to the empty lots around them in the woods and the ever-growing streams of people heading west, departing. “So unless you’re doing a truly horrible job of everything else, it’ll work out just fine.”

  “But what about us? What’s to stop the spiders from attacking us, especially Singh and his men?”

  “Already taken care of. I’ve got several people collecting the bells,” Cai lied, “and they’re to bring them to the last line of defense—Singh and the militia. The spiders won’t be able to touch them.”

  “This—” The mayor jabbed a finger at Cai. “On your head be it. I’d lock you in jail if I could!”

  Cai shrugged and noticed Singh waiting a few paces back for the mayor. “By the way, don’t you have an evacuation to go finish?”

  “Is that where Deirdre is?” Iain asked the moment the mayor left. “Collecting the bells?”

  “It was her idea.” Cai tilted his head with a smirk, beginning to walk toward James and Kallista. “And your brother’s.”

  “What’s going on?” James asked, standing up and putting the book he was looking at into his backpack.

  Cai looked at the three of them. “I have a rendezvous with Deirdre to take care of those bells she’s fetching. But Alvey hasn’t shown yet. You might want to go and get out of the way.”

  “I’m not leaving without Deirdre,” Iain immediately said, stowing his axe. “Isn’t that why you’ve been doing this—so I can stay and help her escape?”

  “You’re not staying behind!” Kallista looked at both her sons. “Cai is right. We need to get Alvey and leave immediately—that was our plan.”

  “But Deirdre wasn’t separated from us then,” Iain pointed out. “Mum, we won’t be far behind. Cai said she’s probably already got most of the bells. And Alvey really does need you two to help her get out of here.” His gaze rested on James, who after a moment nodded in agreement.

  “I…” Kallista shook her head, letting out a weak scoff. “I’m not leaving either of you behind. We just found each other!”

  “If you’re staying with Iain,” James said, looking at his mother, “then fine. I’m going to get Alvey now and go ahead with her.”

  Kallista stared, stunned as James turned to head off. But he stopped when Cai thunderously cleared his throat.

  “You know where the girl is?” Cai asked, grinning. When James didn’t answer, Cai continued, “You’ll need to attract a Water Garden faery; they’re all over the festival grounds and can help people find anything. They like children too, so they’ll probably help you without asking for a payment.”

  “I’m not a child—”

  “You’ve all been traveling with that half elf… something of hers could work to attract the faeries. Do you have anything?”

  For a moment there was silence; James shuffled his feet once or twice before saying, “I, um, have these.” He reached in a small pocket in his backpack and pulled out, wrapped in a clean, spare sock, two tiny, bright petals. “They’re from the Summer Court.”

  “When did you get those?” Iain asked, giving his brother a small nudge, grinning.

  “After the gnomes. I just thought, you know…” James shrugged. “They’d be interesting to study. Alvey didn’t mind.”

  Cai picked up one petal, looked it over for blemishes, and then held it up toward James. “Use this petal to attract a Water Garden faery. Hold it over a puddle or stream, and there’ll be a fairy or two there in a half minute. The faery might ask for the petal; if it does, don’t give the petal until the faery swears on the petal’s light to take you to Alvey. It must say those words, otherwise it will leave you flat.”

  “The faery will know where she is?” James asked. “How? And how will it sense the petal—”

  “Can you do this without a million questions, boy?” Cai snapped.

  James didn’t reply but took the petal back. He glanced at his mother, asking, “Are you staying, Mum?”

  “I—” She ran her hand over her brow, scowling. “Of course I’m going with you.”

  Turning, she quickly embraced Iain, who was at first stunned but warmly reciprocated.

  “Be safe, and don’t…” She sighed, stepping back from her oldest son and giving him a worried, angry, and sorrowful look that only a mother could manage.

  “We’ll be together again soon.” Iain gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  After one more meaningful look, she turned and headed northeast with James.

  Cai cleared his throat, folding his arms. “Iain, Deirdre probably only has half the bells by now. Maybe a bit
more than that but definitely not ninety percent.”

  Iain looked at him sharply. “Then why did you tell the mayor—?”

  “I didn’t want to risk him trying to stop things. But this changes nothing. We’ll help with the evacuations and then meet up with her, just as planned.”

  “I…” Iain sucked in the side of his mouth. “If she doesn’t show sooner than later, I’m going to go find her.” He cut off Cai’s protest, saying, “If you’re worried about your wounds, you don’t have to come. I get it. But I won’t leave her out here alone, not when the military gets closer.”

  Cai’s pride stung, but he kept his expression impassive. “Fine. Let’s hurry on then.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You better get a hurry on, miss,” the shopkeeper said as he handed Alvey the small pack of nails, the last item she needed for her necklace.

  She frowned and gripped the amber hard at the urgency in the man’s voice. “Pray tell, why?”

  He whispered, “The military is coming here. After some faeries or something. I imagine they’re just wanting our goods to use them in their absurd war. At any rate, it won’t be anything but trouble for a half elf like you.”

  Alvey’s eyebrows shot up. “You can tell what I am?”

  “Yes, yes. I know several like you. Now go on then, find your family.”

  Turning away, Alvey went south toward the magic of the largest central tree, putting her goods away in her bag and stowing it under her seat. The man, she knew, wasn’t lying; the scent of anxiety and fear had been rising for the past couple of hours, along with the noise of packing and departing.

  But ’tis only the human military, she thought, shaking her head. Craven fools. In the Court, no one as much as batted an eye at the mention of the military. How much trouble could they cause, truly?

  She shrugged away all thought of the military and ignored the scent and sounds of fear around her. Instead, she focused on her own worries.

  The memory of that morning when Deirdre had woken her to ramble about her magic made Alvey’s jaw grind. Deirdre had been so happy she could use her magic, totally ignoring Alvey and the idea that she might have liked to be able to use magic herself.