I run through the events in my head as she writes them down. How could I have done things differently? Surely I could have avoided killing the goblin. If I’d had more power I would have been confident to try stunning him when he first appeared, like Nate suggested. If I’d had the griffin disc with me I could have done that. I had thought about taking it with, but immediately dismissed the idea when I realized Tora would see all that power when checking my tracker band. She would certainly want to know where I got it from. Perhaps I should just tell her. I mean, I’ll have to tell her about Nate eventually, won’t I? I can’t keep him secret forever.
“Tora,” I say carefully. “Is it possible to store magic in an inanimate object?”
She looks up from the page. “Are you trying to avoid the counseling part of this meeting?”
“Well, yes,” I admit, “but it’s a real question.”
Tora signs the bottom of the assignment report and rolls its up. “If it is possible, I haven’t heard of it. Why do you ask?”
“I just . . . thought it would be a good idea for guardians to have an extra source of power on them while fighting. They wouldn’t have to worry about their magic being depleted.”
“That does sound like a good idea, which makes me think that if it were possible, someone would already have figured out a way to do it.”
“True.” Why didn’t that occur to me? “But . . . what if that person was hiding how to do it?”
Tora tilts her head to the side. “Why would they do that?”
“Um . . . I don’t know.” I chicken out of telling her everything else. “Never mind. I was just thinking out loud.” I slide a little lower in my chair, then sit up straight again as something else occurs to me. “Wait, I have one more question. How long do halflings live for?”
Tora sighs. “I don’t know, Vi. It depends what kind of halfling we’re talking about and how much magic he or she has. I think the general consensus is that the more magic, the longer the life.” She pauses. “Is this some written assignment you’re doing?”
“Um, no. Just another thought.”
“Okay.” Tora gives me a strange look, then settles back in her chair. “Then I guess we’d better get to the part you’ve been looking forward to the most: How do you feel about having killed the goblin last night?”
I make it to the end of the counseling session having said just enough to satisfy Tora that I’m dealing with having killed someone. And I am. I just don’t usually deal with death by talking about it. I prefer to shove it in a little box labeled Stuff I Don’t Think About.
“Okay, I’ve kept you long enough,” says Tora. “You need to get back to the Training Center. Here’s a note for whoever’s on duty.” She writes a few words explaining my absence onto the corner of a scroll, tears it off, and hands it over. I head for the door. “And Vi?” she adds. I stop and look back, my hand resting on the doorknob. “Please try to refrain from throwing deadly objects at your classmates.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I don’t return to the Training Center. Instead, I climb up to the fourth floor and hurry toward the library. I peek inside, checking for Amon, the head librarian. He’s cool, but he won’t approve of me missing training. And aside from that, I don’t want him asking questions about the two things I’m about to look up.
The library appears to be empty. I tiptoe across it, heading straight for the graduate records. I sit down between the shelves, breathing in the smell of old reed paper. I pull out the volume that includes the year my parents graduated. I flip through to the relevant page, then scan the list until I find their names: Kale Fairdale and Rose Hawthorne. My mother’s name is written in gold, indicating that she was top of her class. For years I’ve hoped my own name will be printed in gold in one of these books. I continue scanning the list, but by the end of it I’ve yet to come across an Angelica.
Perhaps Nate’s mother wasn’t in the same year as my parents. I turn back a few pages and search some more lists, then forward, and search some more. No Angelica. I lean back against a shelf, the book resting on my lap. So, either Angelica confused me with someone else when we met in the labyrinth, or she was lying.
Idly, I flip back to my parents’ page—and sit up straight. There it is. Angelica Ashwood, right at the top of the list. How did I miss that? A shiver whispers across the back of my neck. So she was telling the truth. There’s a chance, of course, that this could be another Angelica. But I doubt it. Nate’s mother seemed pretty certain she knew my parents. And hated them. Perhaps she and my mother had a similar relationship to the one Ryn and I share. Perhaps they were in competition with each other the whole way through training, and Angelica never forgave my mother for being top of the class.
I close the book, return it to its place on the shelf, and stand. I’ll think about Angelica later. Right now I have something else to search for. I place my hands on my hips and stare at the shelves around me. Where do I even begin to look for a spell that involves an eye-shaped tattoo? I wander around the library, reading the labels on the shelves, hoping for something to jump out at me.
“Is someone back there?”
Oh, crap. I guess Amon’s returned from his tea break or wherever he went. I slip behind the far end of a bookshelf and crouch down. I hear his footsteps as he walks past the shelves, checking down every row. He stops. I wait several seconds before risking a glance around the edge of the shelf. He’s neatening a row of books, pushing them from behind so the spines line up perfectly with one another. When he’s satisfied, he walks away. I hear the door to his office close.
I puff out a breath of air hard enough to lift a lock of hair from my forehead. How am I supposed to find out what this eye on Nate’s back means? If only I had the ability to locate things instead of people, I could easily find whatever book has that symbol in it. I take a step forward, then stop as something dawns on me: I can find people. So if I can’t find the spell that involves an eye-shaped tattoo, then I should be looking for the person who cast it.
*
The moon is lost behind heavy clouds, but Nate’s bedroom is brightly lit tonight. The overhead light, the television, the bedside lamp, the desk lamp—it’s almost blinding after the absolute darkness of the faerie paths. I tiptoe across Nate’s bedroom floor to where he’s working at his desk. The rain pattering against the window helps conceal the sound of my footsteps. I stop directly behind his chair and quickly cover his eyes with my hands.
“What the—” He jerks in fright, leaving a line of pen across his page. He reaches up to touch my hands. “Jeez, Vi, you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Let’s go somewhere,” I whisper in his ear without removing my hands from his eyes.
“Uh, sure, why not?”
I was expecting a little more enthusiasm, but ‘why not’ will have to do. I grab Nate’s hand, quickly open a doorway on the wall beside his desk, and pull him in after me. He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my neck. For a second, I forget where we’re going.
Focus!
Right. Yes. The destination. I move to his side, never letting go of his hand. “Don’t freak out when we get there,” I tell him. “I’d hate for you to plummet to your death.”
“What?” He grips my hand tighter. “What do you—Whoa!” The forest appears around us. He grabs hold of a tree trunk on his other side and looks down. Down, down, down all the way to the forest floor.
“The night we met, you asked me why I’d choose to live in a place like this, and I told you that without creepy creatures I’d have no job.” Nate nods, unable to look anywhere except down. “Well, I also live here because I find it incredibly beautiful.”
“Right. Beautiful. And it’s a really long way to the ground.”
“So don’t look down, Nate.” I raise his hand to my lips and kiss it. “Look around.” I take my own advice and allow myself to soak up the wonder of this forest canopy world. Colors shift like smoke within the branch beneath our feet. Sprites jump fro
m leaf to leaf, leaving sprinklings of glittery dust in the air behind them. Droplets of water are strung like pearls from the silver strands of a spider’s web. Bluebottle glow-bugs stick to the leaves and branches, lighting up the night with their blue-green bodies. And high above us, clouds are draped like sashes of color across the sky. Amethyst, azure, jade.
“You’ve had a few bad experiences in my realm,” I say softly, thinking back to Drake and Zell abducting us, and the night we spent trapped in the labyrinth. “I thought it would be nice to share something beautiful with you instead.” He squeezes my hand in response. “Follow me,” I whisper.
Many of the branches are wide enough to walk along, while the thinner ones make good handholds. We cross from one tree to the next, gradually climbing higher, until we reach the spot I’m looking for. Near the top of an ancient gargan tree, two colossal branches meet and form a hollow large enough for several people to lie comfortably in. Nate relaxes as we climb into the hollow and lie down, held safely in the gargan’s arms.
The clouds draw apart like curtains across a stage—perfect timing; I couldn’t have planned it better myself—revealing galaxy upon galaxy of glittering stars. “Incredible,” breathes Nate.
“I know.” I turn my head to look at him—and my stomach fills with ice. “Nate, your face!” I sit up, a hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner, but I was standing on the other side of him when we got here. “What happened?”
He sits up, raising his fingers to the bruised, swollen skin around his eye. “It’s nothing, Vi, seriously. I just got into a fight at school and—”
“A fight at school? But you don’t seem like the type of guy who’d—”
“I’m not,” he says, the words leaving his mouth in a hurry, as though he’s worried I may get the wrong impression about him. “I’ve just . . . been in a weird mood ever since we went down into that labyrinth. And today somebody just said the wrong thing, pushed me too far. But I’m fine now, I swear.” He takes both of my hands in his. “So I’m not actually human. Big deal.” He shrugs. “It’s not like I can do any magic, so nothing’s really changed. I just want to move on and forget we ever went down there, okay?” I hesitate. I’d been hoping to tell him about my plan to find the person who put the eye on his back, but I’m guessing that wouldn’t go down too well right now. “Okay?” he presses.
It’s the desperation in his eyes that convinces me. “Okay,” I say, adding my plan to the list of things I’ll think about later. We lie down again, and I snuggle against him.
“When did you first come up here?” he asks.
“My friends and I climbed up here years ago and decided this was a good spot to hang out. We used to come here at night when our parents were away on assignment. We’d bring snacks and stay up late and draw star-to-star pictures in the sky.”
“I remember doing that,” says Nate. “The picture thing. Or at least, I imagined pictures in the clouds.”
“It’s better when you’re a faerie, because you can use a stylus to draw actual pictures in the air.”
Nate turns his head to look at me. “Cheater,” he teases, his lips curling up on one side. “You’re meant to imagine the pictures in your head.” His fingers slip between mine. Looking back toward the sky, he says, “It must be amazing to be able to travel absolutely anywhere in just a few seconds. I’d go on holiday all the time if it were me.”
“Well, we can’t travel anywhere. I mean, we can travel anywhere in the human realm, which is probably what you’re thinking about, but in the fae realm most private places have protection over them. We can’t just open paths into each other’s homes the way I do into yours. Only the person who owns the place, and those who have been granted permission, can enter through the faerie paths.”
“So human privacy isn’t as important as fae privacy, is that what you’re saying?” I can hear the smile behind his words.
“Pretty much.” I squeeze his hand and laugh. “Most fae wouldn’t care to enter a human home. It’s just us guardians who go wherever we please.”
“Of course. And the fae who like to eat humans.”
“Yes.” He laughs with me this time. It feels easy, natural. I’m glad he’s back to normal, even if it did take a punch in the face to get him there. “Oh, I discovered something interesting in the library today.” The words are out before I can consider whether bringing this information up is a good idea or not. Oh well, no going back now. “I looked up the list of guardian graduates for my parents’ year. Your mother’s name was there.”
Nate is silent for a moment before saying, “Wow. That’s weird, isn’t it? That they knew each other when they were young, and years later you and I end up together.”
“Yeah, that is a little weird. But weird things happen in life, right?”
Nate nods. We lie in comfortable silence for a while, his thumb moving up and down against mine. He takes a deep breath. “Vi?”
I steel myself for something major, like a declaration of love. “Yes?”
“I’d like to take you on a date.”
“Oh.” Relief. “Cool. I’ve never been on a date.”
“Tomorrow night? At a surprise location. I’ll make some excuse to my parents. Tell them I’m working at a friend’s house or something.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to check my schedule, but I’m sure I can squeeze you in somewhere.”
“You’d better.” He kisses my temple. “It’s going to be good.”
I lean into him, snaking my arm over his chest. His lips move down, brushing over my cheek bone. I raise my head, and he fits his mouth to mine. My lips open automatically. I feel his hands moving along my arms, raising goose bumps as they go. He pulls me closer until I’m lying across his chest. I feel the pounding of his heart and the pressure of his hands against my shoulder blades. The kiss becomes more urgent. His fingers knot in my hair, and my hands find their way beneath the hem of his T-shirt. All sound is lost in the dizzying rush of blood through my veins.
A splintering crack sounds from somewhere above us, and Nate rolls us out of the way as a small branch tumbles down into the hollow. “What . . .” I try to catch my breath. I feel oddly not in control of myself. “Was that . . . me?”
Nate grins. “I don’t know. Do you usually break branches while making out with guys?”
Ignoring him, I sit up and look around. I can’t see anyone else up here. I can’t sense anyone either. Nate runs his hands up and down my arms. “You’re really warm,” he says. “Are you feeling okay?”
I give myself a mental once-over. “I feel . . . like I’m radiating magic out of every pore.”
Nate’s grin stretches even wider. “Awesome. Shall we see how many more branches we can bring down?”
“Uh, no. We may end up falling out of the tree.” And I’m not entirely comfortable with the out-of-control feeling.
We return to Nate’s home. “You got homework to finish?” I ask.
“Yes. As mundane as that sounds.” He kisses my forehead. “Do you have some exciting assignment to take care of now? Or are you heading home?”
“Home,” I mumble.
I hate lying to him.
*
Huddling between the rose bushes in Nate’s garden, I decide to go through with my plan. He’d be angry if he knew, but I have to try it. The eye is still tattooed onto his back, and I need to know what it means. I wait until the light disappears from his window. After a further ten or fifteen minutes, I open a doorway and peek into his bedroom. He’s asleep. I pad across the carpet to his bed. He’s lying on his side, thank goodness.
Carefully, terrified of waking him, I take hold of the edge of his T-shirt. With my heart beating so loud I’m sure his parents can hear it in the next room, I lift the T-shirt. As lightly as I possibly can, I place my palm against the eye-shaped tattoo.
Don’t wake up, don’t wake up.
I extend my thoughts, searching and feeling for the person who owns this mark. In a
rush, I feel myself sucked into the person I’m looking for. A girl. Black gloves and a long black skirt. Long, leafy vines hang from the ceiling of the room she’s in. She walks between the vines and enters another room, small and dark. She smoothes her hand across the page of a book and begins chanting.
Nate’s grunt pulls me back to the present. I snatch my hand away. He turns over. I drop to the floor, whip my stylus out of my boot, and write the words for a doorway onto the carpet. Silently, the floor melts away, and I fall into darkness.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I’m Underground. I’m pretty sure of it. I have that same uneasy feeling I got when Nate and I found ourselves in the labyrinth. There’s also the fact that I’m standing in a tunnel.
I don’t like tunnels.
I write a doorway onto the wall. It works. Good, at least I’ll be able to get out of here once I’ve learned something useful. I brush my hand against the sandy surface of the wall and take a few hesitant steps forward. Torches are set into the wall at regular intervals, their flickering green flames casting eerie shadows throughout the tunnel. Everything is dry, but it smells oddly like wet earth after a summer rain. It’s a smell I find comforting; all the more reason not to trust it.
A piercing screech. Wings flapping. I duck, covering my head with an invisible shield. I start drawing power, getting ready to defend myself, but the creature is gone.
Silence.
I stand and continue forward, faster now. I need to find that girl.
I find the room first. The entrance to it is narrow, blocked by an ornate but rusted gate. It doesn’t appear to be locked. I peer inside, hoping to see something other than hundreds of hanging vines. I hear the occasional chirp and hiss of animal sounds, but nothing more. I try to connect to the girl to see if she’s still in here, but without the tattoo to touch it doesn’t work.