by Chloe Adler
“Me? I doubt that. I’m just a human lost in a strange land.”
The icy breeze—the sylph, I correct myself—wraps itself around my forearm and snakes up my bicep. “My name is Sabin and I’d like to properly welcome you to Tara.”
“Tara?”
“This world. Our world.”
“The world of the fae?”
“Not just the fae. Many creatures inhabit Tara; the fae are but one.”
“I’d love to stay for a history lesson, Sabin, but I have to find Candy.” I throw an arm and a leg over the leaf hammock, feeling for a tree branch.
“You can’t go to the ground, guardian.”
“My name is Amaya. Why do you keep calling me guardian? Why can’t I walk on the ground? And can you take me to Candy?”
“If you’d like, I will call you by your human name, but both here and there you are the protector of the naturals.”
So many riddles. Every time I ask a question, his responses confuse me even more.
“If you go to ground, the dryads will attack you again.”
“Why?”
“They think you’re a beast. It is their duty to protect their trees. You must forgive them. With our realm in chaos, the king missing and Azotar on the throne, they are wary of tourists.”
If only I had the slightest idea what this invisible thing was talking about. “So how do I get to my friend then?” I cannot believe I am referring to Candy as “my friend.”
“Ah yes, Harlesque. The fachan has her. The journey will be treacherous, and if you make it there, it will kill you.”
“Who’s Fachan?”
“Azotar. It is a fachan.” If Sabin had a face, it would be deadly serious right now.
“It’s not male?”
“It is both male and female, the worst parts of each.”
That seems almost clichéd—that the evil villain is agender. Or non-binary, maybe? But then again, I guess I was just as clichéd to assume Azotar was a male. Hopefully I’ll never get the chance to meet it and apologize for my heteronormativity in person. “Is it going to hurt Ca—Harlesque?”
“It’s holding her as a bargaining chip against the king.”
Rude! Playing with the life of an innocent, even though that’s what evil baddies do. I don’t have to like it, nor do I have to let the thing get away with it. I climb out of the hammock and wrap my arms and legs around the tree branch. “How do I help Harlesque?”
“You need to go get our king and bring him back. He’s been locked out of Tara without a way to return. We suspect that you’re his conduit, the key to our salvation. The one who can save us all.”
“Hold it right there. How can I possibly help the people here when I can’t even deal with my own problems? Which are miniscule in comparison, by the way.” My palms grow moist and I rub them on my jeans. Okay, I’ve barely survived multiple brushes with this carnivorous hell dimension, on top of having my whole perception of reality overturned, so I’m not exactly in the mental headspace to tackle new challenges at the moment, but come on. Azotar is surely a thousand times scarier and more powerful than Bob, and I can barely stand up to him. I’m expected to save an entire planet when I can’t even save my parents’ house? Goodbye sanity, hello panic attack. “I’m sorry, Sabin, I’m not your girl. I wish I was, I really do, but I just don’t see how I can be. There has to be someone else who can save your world.”
Even though he is invisible, I swear I can hear him pouting right now. “If that’s what you want.” A warm breeze caresses my face.
“Wait, what about Candy?”
Naked
Between one breath and the next, I’m home. Sitting in my room. And not my room at the mansion, my room at home. I look around, blinking, completely unused to interdimensional travel, or whatever this is called.
Okay. I press my hands together, rubbing my palms back and forth. I just disappeared into some weird land with little sprites and whatnot and then showed up in my room several hours later. But why would I be in my room at my house when my last memory before Tara was of being at the Ridge?
I hunt around for my phone but it’s not on my bed and I’m still wearing the exact same clothes I was wearing when we were in the spell room. What the hell is going on? Unable to call the guys or Jules, I stomp downstairs and out the front door, slamming it hard behind me. A paper, stapled to the front of it, flutters with the force of my slam. A fucking eviction notice? Are you kidding me right now? Could this day get any worse? I should count my blessings and run back inside before I find myself standing naked onstage during the final curtain call of La bohème. Only the tragedy would be me trying to perform an aria.
Instead, I stand in front of my parents’ place, completely dumbfounded. I can’t call a cab. I have no phone. I can’t walk to the Ridge, it’s like three miles up some mighty steep hills. Okay, that’s not a huge deal. I like hiking and even started running a few months ago, but after Jules stopped running with me I basically let it slip. Time to suck it up. I’ve just started stretching for the long climb when Bob’s familiar car pulls up.
Ignoring him, I keep stretching until a wolf whistle punctuates the air.
“Can it, Bob,” I call out without looking up. “You’ve done your worst. Now you won’t get the money that’s obviously more important to you than anyone else’s well-being.”
“Aw, come on, Amaya, don’t be like that,” he sneers, slamming his car door. “I’m sure there’s something we can work out.”
Standing up straight, I put my hands on my hips. “Like what?”
The same blue glint from last time I saw him crosses in front of his face and then disappears.
“He has help from . . . no, it cannot be, not here. Do not trust him. He’s bluffing,” a disembodied voice—Sabin—whispers in my ear.
Instead of acknowledging Sabin, I jut my chin forward and level Bob with a smile. “You know what, Bob? Take the house. Take everything in it.” It’s all I can do not to swallow the words back. My pulse is skyrocketing at the bluff. “It’s just a bunch of material crap anyway. The things that are most important are the things you can’t take from me, so why don’t you fuck off now?”
A sharp slap stings my face. “That is no way for a lady to talk to her elders. As soon as I tell Cheryl what kind of mouth you have on you, you’ll be losing your job there too. You ungrateful thing. What’ll you do for food and shelter then? Hook on the streets instead of hooking at the Vectum?”
I’m sick of this. My eternal bad day catches up to me and I pull my arm back to clock him in the face, but before I can, Bob loses his balance and falls down on my stoop. Grunting, he reaches out for purchase, but instead, his enormous body—and the blue glint—tumbles down my front drive and then down the street, carried on an unseen tornado. I’d like to write it off as a freaking trick of the light again, but between my recent trip to Tara and Sabin’s odd words, I know I’m not hallucinating. Fuck.
I take stock of my newest situation. I have just been physically accosted, my family is up for eviction, and either Tara is real or I’m going completely mad. And then there’s the matter of an air elemental that apparently hitched a ride with me and is blowing my nemesis and his pet glowing blue dot down the street.
For once, I have no idea how to fix this. I’ve been tossed into the deep end—I take an extra deep lungful of sweet, sweet air at the thought of the Water Meadow closing over my head again—and as much as it hurts to admit it, I need help. The only sane thing to do right now is to go with my original idea and walk to the Ridge. Leaving Bob and Sabin and who knows what else, I turn on my heels and start walking. I’m about three blocks down when a familiar breeze ruffles my hair.
“You’re walking?” Sabin asks.
“Uh, yeah. I don’t have another choice right now.”
“Sure you do,” he says and a moment later I’m airborne.
“Sabin, no!” I cry out but he boots me down the street so fast that I have to close my eyes to keep from vom
iting.
“Where are we going?” he asks.
“The Ridge.” I have to shout it over the rush of the wind.
“Where’s that?”
“Sabin, stop. Please?”
He does at once—but I keep moving, flying forward. I’m an inch from face-planting on the sidewalk when a gust of air buoys me upright.
“I appreciate your help, I really do, but I need to slow things down right now. Can you please just walk with me?”
“Sure. Why didn’t you say so?”
I’m really glad he doesn’t have a neck, because at this point, I’d be wringing it.
It takes us an hour to reach the Ridge but mostly because I’m grossly out of shape and I need to stop and rest a lot. Too bad the buses don’t run anywhere near the rich part of town. Though my wallet, with my bus pass, is still in the mansion anyway.
Sabin keeps up a steady stream of dialogue. Who knew that wind could be so damn chatty? Though it does figure, with the constant howling and all.
“So, let me get this straight,” I say. “Azotar bribed or lied its way into Tara from another fae realm?”
“Kind of. I’m not sure exactly how it got back into our home.”
“Back? You mean it’s been there before?”
The flutter of wind at the back of my neck is a welcome relief. “Azotar lived among us. It’s fae, but it was cast out, banished.”
“For being evil?” That would make sense.
“No.” Sabin’s voice drops. Is that sadness? Had they been friends?
“Why, then?”
“Sexism, racism, prejudice. Call it by whatever name you will. All wrong.”
Huh? “Explain.”
The gust picks up, whipping my hair around my face. “Don’t want to talk about it.”
Sore subject, okay, I can respect that. “So how could it get back into Tara? Couldn’t the king or the people of Tara stop it? Don’t you have knights or a court or an army or something?” I huff, stopping and bending over to catch my breath.
“You are out of shape.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Since we’ve only been acquainted a few hours, I am unsure of what you do and don’t know. I could tell you more about Tara, since you’ve spent limited time there, one could assume—”
I hold up a hand, straightening upright. “It was a figure of speech. Sarcasm, actually. Are you always so literal?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Forget it. Can you answer my last question, please?” I resume the uphill battle.
“The king couldn’t stop Azotar because once it broke through into Tara, it used some kind of magic to banish him. It all happened very quickly, before any of us knew what was going on.”
“What about Harlesque?”
“She’s bound to the king. She goes where he does.”
“If she’s bound to Vasily, then why didn’t he show up in Tara when she did?”
“Vasily? This is the name you call the king?”
“Yes.”
Sabin swirls around me, evidently agitated, whipping my hair around my face. “Very well, you call him whatever you please. Regardless of his name, I do not have the answer that you seek. Since the two are bound, the king should have crossed back too. It must have something to do with the fachan.”
I’m not sure I buy that but then he did say he didn’t know the answer. Would the wind, a sylph I remind myself, lie to me? “Does the fae king drink blood?”
“Like a vampire? Certainly not.”
Strange, though it’s true Vasily lacks fangs. He did drink my blood, though. Is it some shameful secret he hides from his kingdom? Oops. Better change gears quick. “So why wasn’t there something in place in Tara to prevent evil fairies or other entities from taking over and doing what Azotar has done? The king didn’t have allies? Safeguards in place?”
“There are . . . or were,” says Sabin. “No one has been able to enter or reenter our world before.”
We reach the gate and I turn sideways to slip through, wanting to surprise the guys.
About a hundred yards in, I realize Sabin is no longer talking or blowing, a first on our walk. But after all the chatter, the silence is surprisingly unwelcome. I guess I’m too wound up with worry. After half a mile of silence, I slip into song, belting out “Un bel dì vedremo” from Madame Butterfly, a stretch for my limited soprano, but I’ll take my bumbling screeches over silence right now. I’m so lost in the singing, I’ve forgotten about my escort until a warm wind caresses the back of my neck.
I jump and brush the back of my neck with my hand. “Quit it.”
“You sing like a nymph. Are you?” he asks.
“A nymph.” Is that a criticism or a compliment?
“The fae who love to sing and dance. They have beautiful voices. Like you.”
“Oh, thank you.” My chest warms and I clear my throat to hide my embarrassment.
“You would be welcome in the fae court with a voice like that.”
“Thank you, Sabin. That’s really sweet of you to say.” As if fully embodying the nymph label, I find myself skipping. Skipping? Me? And I kind of like it.
“Not sweet. True.” He rustles my hair. I wish he’d stop doing that.
“Were you sailing along next to me the whole time?” I skitter to a halt.
“No, I was scouting ahead. It’s one of my specialties. A lot of beings try to hire us for our skills.”
“No doubt. And?” I pat my hair back down and continue walking.
“And?”
“What did you find?” It’s difficult not to snap at the creature but how can he possibly understand the ways of our world? I remind myself that I was in his shoes, er, air space, only an hour ago.
“Stables, someone out on a horse in the distance, a large house.” He gusts by.
My hands fly up to my head. “That’s where we’re headed.”
“Amaya,” Arch booms from ahead.
“Here!” I call out.
“Are you okay?” The hulking man storms toward me and gathers me in his arms. “We didn’t know what had happened to you. We’ve all been searching the grounds for days, worried out of our minds.” His face is buried in my hair.
But I was only gone for a few hours. Is it because of the time differential Paxil told me about? More important right now is that they were worried. Warmth courses through my body, flushing my face. “I was in Tara.” I throw out the word as a test. Does he know what I’m talking about or am I indeed crazy?
He lets go of me only to hold me at arm’s length. “You’re serious.”
I offer him a lopsided grin.
“So it is true.”
“What? And I would have appreciated a warning beforehand.” I twist out of his grasp, suddenly annoyed.
“Shit.” He rubs his face. “I’m so sorry, Amaya. I didn’t believe Vasily. Let’s get back to the house so we can talk about this with everyone else. Where’s Candy?” He looks around.
My stomach clenches. Oh no, oh crap. I forgot all about Candy in my rush to evade Bob and get to the Ridge. “Still in Tara. We got separated, and I couldn’t find her. I almost didn’t make it back alive.”
He curses again, rubbing the back of his neck with his massive hand. “I’m glad you’re back and unharmed but we have to figure out how to get Candy back too. It’s not safe for her to remain there.”
Why did I leave the poor girl? Just because it’s her world doesn’t mean the monsters won’t get her. She saved my life and I just left her there to fend for herself! “Send me back. Send me back!” I don’t bother trying to hide the tears forming in my eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart. Candy’s highly intelligent. She won’t get herself killed. She’s probably hiding from Azotar.” I jolt at the name drop. Guess the rules don’t apply anymore? Does this mean they’ll finally answer my questions? “We’ll get you back there after we debrief you.”
He throws his arms around me, pulling me in tightly and p
etting my hair. Wait, debrief me? I want to debrief them!
“I’m so sorry you were stuck there. From what I’ve heard, it’s become a horrific place.” He lets me go, reaches for my hand and leads me up the path.
“Sabin?” I call out to the sylph, but there’s no answer.
“Who’s Sabin?” asks Arch.
“A hitchhiking sylph from Tara.”
Arch cranes his neck.
“He’s invisible, incorporeal and only makes himself known on his terms. I’ve no doubt he’ll turn up.”
By the time we reach the house, the rest of the warlocks are waiting out front and they all rush to hug me at once. The wind picks up, nearly blowing me over. Sabin. There he is.
“Cooperate,” I growl and the men jump back. Bodhi’s brows are drawn and Forrest’s mouth is open. “Not you guys.”
They look around.
“She’s officially crazy?” asks Cedar
“Hey!” I clip him on the shoulder. “Guys, I want you to meet the sylph that hitched a ride with me from Tara. His name is Sabin. Sabin, meet the guys.”
He whistles around our heads. “How do you do.”
“You were in Tara and you brought back a sylph?” asks Bodhi.
Arch nods for me.
“That’s all kinds of awesome.” Forrest performs an actual jump, clicking up his heels like he’s starring in a Lucky Charms commercial. “The spell worked!”
“Finally.” Cedar’s hands are planted firmly on his hips. Is that disapproval on his face?
“And it appears she’s more than a synergist,” adds Arch.
“Vasily was right.” Bodhi muscles his way around the others to face me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You okay?” he mouths and I nod, once.
We hold eye contact for a few moments until someone clears their throat. Bodhi lets go of my shoulders but he doesn’t change his position. His protectiveness grounds me, wiping out the last bits of panic I brought back with me from Tara. I’d be feeling downright happy if only—
“Where’s Vasily?” I look around in case he managed to shrink his massive bulk down to fae size and is hiding behind someone.
