Page 20 of The Faerie Guardian


  “So you think this metal around the door is the same stuff?”

  “Looks like it. And I think it’s what’s preventing me from sensing Calla.”

  Ryn nods. “Could be. But that still doesn’t help with how we’re supposed to get past it.”

  I stare at the door for a while. “Probably the only way is to wait until someone goes in or out.”

  Ryn tugs at his hair. “Damn, I hate it when you’re right. So you plan to just stand here and wait?”

  I slip my knife back into the sheath strapped to my thigh. “No, I plan to go around that other corner over there and sit down and then wait.” Which is exactly what I do. After another pointless fist thump against the stone door, Ryn joins me. We sit in silence, neither of us mentioning the fact that just a short while ago he was crying into my neck. I wonder if either of us will ever bring it up. I could definitely use it as blackmail if he tries to spread another embarrassing rumor about me.

  I cross my legs beneath me and trace a finger along the laces of my boot. “That dress I had on was pretty. It’s a pity I had to rip it apart.”

  “Yeah. It was entertaining to watch though.”

  “To watch?” I fold my arms over my chest. “Weren’t you wrestling on the floor at the time?”

  A grin lifts one side of Ryn’s mouth. “I can multitask, remember? And girls tearing their clothes off is something I try not to miss.”

  I glare at him. “Have I told you before that you’re gross?”

  “On multiple occasions.”

  I decide now is a good time to change the subject. “Did you see that dress made of flames?”

  “I did. And I wondered how it could work, given the no-magic rule.”

  “Oh, yeah. I don’t know. It was amazing though. Everything in that ballroom was amazing.” I tilt my head back and rest it against the wall. “‘The colors and the lights that glow, the music and the masks. The people swaying to and fro in the enchanted dance.’” My words trail off as I consider something: I’m sitting in a dark, cold corner in the bum end of my enemy’s home reciting poetry. What is wrong with me?

  “A. R. Thorntree,” murmurs Ryn.

  I blink at him. “No. That poem is by Amos Tornweather.”

  He frowns. “No it isn’t.”

  “Yes, it is.” Does Ryn honestly expect me to believe he knows poetry? He is so not the type.

  “It’s definitely not Amos Tornweather.”

  “It is,” I insist. “I was reading that poem just this afternoon.”

  “Doesn’t matter how recently you read it, you’re still wrong.”

  “Fine. Remind me to prove it to you when we get out of here.”

  “I certainly will.”

  We wait. I begin to feel hungry. And bored. I twist Calla’s bracelet around and around my wrist, absently rubbing the silver links between my fingers.

  “I remember throwing your mother’s tokehari away,” Ryn says out of the blue. My hand freezes on the bracelet. “The gold chain with the gold key. The key was small, and the top had tiny outspread wings, like a bird.” I can’t think of anything to say, so I remain silent. After a sigh, he continues. “It was exactly a year after Reed died. It was also the day we had that junior school archery competition. You came first in our age group, and you were so damn excited about it. And all I could think about was how Reed was the one who first taught us how to use a bow and arrow, and you should have been sad because you should have been thinking about him. But you weren’t. And it wasn’t fair that you were so happy and I was in so much pain. I know it was cruel, but I wanted you to hurt as much as I was hurting.”

  I close my eyes for a moment. “You can be such an ass, Ryn,” I say quietly. “Just because I was happy that day didn’t mean I’d forgotten about Reed. How could I ever forget him? He was like a brother to me, just like you—before you cut me off.” I take a deep breath. “But I managed to do something you don’t seem to find possible: I moved on.”

  Ryn’s fist clenches, but his voice remains low. “You don’t understand. It’s not the same for me.”

  “So explain it then. Explain why, after eight years, you still can’t move on.”

  He shakes his head, his lips sealed firmly shut.

  “Fine. Maybe you have issues you don’t want to tell me about, but I still think you have a choice. And so far you’ve chosen to hang onto your pain instead of letting it go.”

  “Congratulations, you have me all figured out. Would you like a gold star?”

  “No, I’d like my friend back.” Whoa, where did that come from?

  He twists his head to look at me. “Are you talking about Reed or me?”

  Good question. “Anyone, Ryn. I lost both of you after Reed died, and you made sure I never had another friend after that.”

  “Well, you didn’t exactly make an effort yourself.”

  “Could you blame me?” I demand, sitting up straighter. “Reed died, you deserted me, and then my father got killed. I didn’t want to care about anyone else in case I lost them too.”

  Ryn leans slowly back against the wall without removing his eyes from mine. “Looks like I’m not the only one with issues.”

  *

  The silence between us expands. Aside from Ryn’s breathing, which is annoying the hell out of me simply because it’s him who’s breathing, there isn’t another sound. No water dripping, no dungeon creatures scurrying, no footsteps from upstairs.

  And then comes a rumble. We jump to our feet immediately. Ryn pushes past me, just about knocking me over in his haste to get to the stone door. By the time it’s slid open completely, Ryn is standing in front of it. His fist flashes forward and whoever was about to leave the dungeon crumples onto the floor. I hurry over to assist in dragging the unconscious faerie out of the way.

  The moment we cross over the threshold, the door slides shut behind us. “Crap.” I press my hands against the blank stone. “How do we get out of here?”

  “We can worry about that on the way out. Right now, I think you want to see this.”

  I turn around and get my first proper look at the room. It’s round, with a high ceiling and concentric circles of stone paving on the floor. An ornate chandelier of candles casts yellow light over the room, though it does nothing to raise the temperature. A round table large enough to seat about twenty people is covered with papers.

  But none of that is as interesting or strange as what’s stuck to the walls. Everywhere I look I see names. Pages of them, some crossed out, some circled, some ticked, some written in different colors. And diagrams, with more names and connecting lines and details written in a tiny script. And maps. And all over the place, drawn onto the pages and etched into the stone walls, is the symbol of the griffin with the serpent tail.

  I wrap my arms around myself as I approach the nearest page. “Estelle Waters,” I read out. “Can hear the thoughts of others. Ebony Waters: Can force thoughts into others’ heads. Gemma Waters: Can erase thoughts.”

  “Violet Fairdale,” Ryn reads, his words sending a chill down my spine. “Can find people.”

  My heart thundering, I move to his side. My name is written in large letters and has been circled over and over. It even has a star drawn next to it. “Looks like you’re important,” says Ryn. I shiver, and not only because it’s cold. “All these names,” he says. “And these special abilities. What the hell is this guy doing?”

  “He’s collecting people,” I say faintly, staring at the star next to my name. “People who can do things that other faeries can’t.” And now it’s clear why he’s after me. “He wants to use me to find them all.”

  Ryn turns to me. “And what exactly does he intend to do with all these people?”

  “No idea. But right now I have another question for you, Ryn.” I cross my arms and face him. “What is Calla doing here?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Without answering me, Ryn walks to the table and begins looking through the pages. “Did you notice there’s an
outline of a door on the wall opposite where we came in? Calla must be through there. We need to figure out how to open it.”

  “She has some kind of extra power, doesn’t she?” I say, ignoring his attempt at deflection. “Why else would she be here?”

  With his back to me, he says, “I’m not supposed to tell anyone. We’ve tried our best to keep it a secret.”

  “I’m risking my life to help get her out of here, Ryn. The least you can do is tell me why she was taken.”

  He feels along the table and lifts papers. Searching for keys, perhaps? Several pages float to the floor. I pick them up, fold them, and stuff them into one of my boots. You never know, they may contain useful information.

  When Ryn reaches the other side of the table, he leans on it and looks at me. “She has a powerful imagination. Very powerful. When she imagines things, she can make you see them.”

  I give myself a moment to let that sink in. “So . . . she can make me see anything she wants me to see?”

  “Yes. She’s learning to control it so that she doesn’t have to share everything that goes on in her head, but she still slips up sometimes, when she gets emotional.”

  “Wow. That’s a cool ability.”

  “So is finding people.” He moves around the table again, feeling beneath the edge with his fingers. He stops. I hear a click. On the far side of the wall, a rectangular piece of stone slides up. “Yes. Found it.” In a few quick strides, he’s across the room.

  “Stop!” I hurry to the opening. “Can’t you smell that?”

  “What?”

  I sniff the air again, recognizing something I’ve come across in Uri’s lab before. “I think it’s poison.” I look up. Embedded into the bottom edge of the stone that just slid up are hundreds of shards of glass, their pointed ends glistening blue. “I’m guessing that glass is going to fall on you if you walk beneath it.”

  “There must be a way to deactivate it.” Ryn’s eyes scan the walls, probably for another button.

  “Or we could just activate it,” I suggest. I fetch a piece of paper from the table and wave it beneath the bottom of the door, then jump back as the glass pieces slice through the air and hit the floor.

  Without so much as a ‘thank you’, Ryn steps over the glittering shards and into the next room. “What the . . .”

  I follow close behind him, and my stomach turns the moment I look up. Suspended from the ceiling by thick chains are what look like giant bird cages. And within each cage, most of them lying down, is a person. Around the ankles of those closest to me, I can see metal bands just like the one Zell and Drake put around my wrist. Below the cages, filling the centre of the vast room, is a large circular pool of water.

  “This is so messed up.” I turn to Ryn. “We have to go to the Council about this. Surely you agree with me now? This isn’t just about your sister.”

  He nods, but I don’t think he’s really listening. His eyes search the cages. “Calla?” he calls. I expect at least some of the sleeping prisoners to wake, but perhaps they’re used to hearing one another cry out.

  “It looks like you can lower the cages,” I say, noticing the chains running across the ceiling and down the walls. “You just have to find the right chain.”

  “And once the cage hits the water, then what?”

  “Um . . . I guess you could swim out to the cage, but there’s probably some terrifying creature inhabiting this pool. And then there’s the problem of unlocking the—” I pause as I notice a faint rumble. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah.” We both look toward the room with the names.

  “Crap, someone must have just come in.” I turn to Ryn. “You find Calla. I’ll deal with whoever that is.”

  “Okay. Just . . . you know, don’t die.”

  I grace him with an eye roll. “Yeah, thanks, I’ll try not to.” Being careful not to stand on the glass, I peek through the doorway. I see him the same moment he sees me. Crimson hair, crimson eyes. It’s Zell.

  Surprise flashes across his face, but it’s replaced in an instant by a creepy kind of delight. “Well, look who it is. Gate-crashing my party, I see.” He shakes his head. “And I bet you didn’t even bring me a birthday present.”

  I grab one of my knives and throw it at him. With a flick of his hand, he sends it right back at me. Instinctively, I throw up an invisible shield. Then, remembering the no-magic rule, I’m so startled by the lack of a loud siren that I almost let the shield go. “But—the alarm.”

  Zell laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would there be an alarm down here? My prisoners have their metal bands to keep them from trying anything magical. Metal bands that have been improved, by the way. Thank you for demonstrating that the previous ones couldn’t completely block magic.”

  “But . . . what about the metal around the door? Isn’t that supposed to block the use of magic in here?”

  “Oh, that’s to prevent magic from outside getting in and interfering. It doesn’t stop what happens inside here.” He places his fingertips together and watches me, as though waiting for me to make a move.

  “All those people in there.” I indicate behind me. “They have special abilities, don’t they?”

  “Of course. You didn’t honestly think you were the only one who could do something out of the ordinary, did you?” Actually, that’s exactly what I thought. Looking back, it seems like a stupid assumption.

  There’s a noise behind me. I step through the doorway, trying to cover the noise with the sound of my boots. “Where’s Drake?” I ask. Hopefully I can divert Zell’s attention until Ryn has managed to find and free Calla. “When I first met the two of you, he seemed to be the one in charge.”

  Zell’s smile is cruel. “He thought he was in charge too. No, no. Drake never knew who I was. He was useful for a time, but that time came to an end, and I had to get rid of him.”

  “How could a human with no power possibly be useful to you?”

  “Knowledge,” says Zell, his eyes gleaming. “I always knew there were certain fae with additional abilities. As you may have been able to figure out, I’ve been searching for them for years. What I didn’t know about was the griffin symbol the halfling Tharros created, and how its power was connected to these special fae. That’s what Drake found out amidst all his mixed dealings in the fae realm.” Zell sighs happily. “And everything has fallen into place perfectly since then. You can’t deny that this was all meant to be.”

  “What was all meant to be?”

  “Why, that you and Nathaniel would end up on my side, of course. When I started out, the only person I was searching for was Angelica Ashwood. Nathaniel was only a means to get to her, and you just happened to be there at the same time. But then it turned out that Nathaniel actually had magic, and, in addition to that, control of the weather. And you, the girl I thought was just a regular trainee in the wrong place at the wrong time, turned out to be the very person my spy within the Guild had heard about: the guardian who can find people.”

  Spy within the Guild? “And you think this means that I should willingly stick around to help you?”

  “Of course. That’s what Nathaniel decided to do after my darling protégé Scarlett managed to summon him. Surely you see how this can’t all have been a coincidence. Just look at how you walked right into my home without me having to lift a finger to get you here.” He frowns. “What exactly are you doing in my dungeon anyway? You clearly didn’t come to hand yourself over.”

  “I . . . had an assignment.” Zell raises one eyebrow. Damn, I should have said that with more conviction. “How did you know Nate and I were in Creepy Hollow that first night?” I rush on. “Angelica said she put an enchantment on you that was supposed to prevent you from finding him.”

  “She did, but as is the case with many of Angelica’s complex enchantments, it didn’t quite work the way she planned. I tried all kinds of location spells, and nothing worked. When one of them eventually did give me an answer, I realized it was because Nathanie
l was in the fae realm. I suppose Angelica didn’t count on that happening. I realized he was at the Guild, so I just had my spy inform me when he left, and I waited for him in the forest. Simple.”

  “Actually, it seems like a lot of effort just to get one measly metal disc that will give you a bit of extra power.”

  “One measly metal disc?” Zell frowns and tilts his head to the side. “You don’t know what I’m really after, do you?”

  “I would if you just told—”

  “Enough!” He holds his hand up. “I know what you are trying to do, young trainee. Distract me by getting me to tell you everything I plan to do, after which you hope to escape and take your information to the Guild. But that isn’t going to happen. This is the point where we stop talking and I lock you up in one of those cages next door.” He pauses. “Unless, of course, you’d like to try and stop me?”

  A whip and sword blaze into existence in my hands. “Hell, yeah.” He doesn’t think I’m going down without a fight, does he?

  His lips twitch slightly. “Well, you might like to know that I have some . . . energy reserves.” He reaches into a pocket and pulls out the griffin disc. Then another, and another, and another. Oh, crapping crap. There’s more than one of those things? Angelica omitted that little bit of information. Zell’s grin is triumphant. “It’s going to be a long, long time before I run out of power.”

  He hits my shield with a blast of magic. I strengthen the shield, letting my whip and sword fizzle into nothing. I’ll never get close enough to use them. I probably won’t even be able to shoot an arrow, because the moment I drop my shield Zell will hit me with something.

  Think, think, think. Magic continues to pummel my shield, and I’m losing power just keeping it intact. I take note of what’s around me. Table, papers, chandelier, broken glass. I can use them all if I’m fast enough. I slowly move away from the door, hoping that Ryn doesn’t do something stupid like come running through it.