Bloodthorn Page 11

  “You don’t miss the architecture thing?”

  “Not at all.”

  “And you don’t miss other things?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  I chewed a bite of sandwich, wishing I felt the same way. But the honest truth was, I hated my life now. I was lonelier than I’d ever been before, and I’d been pretty darn lonely to begin with. The worst part was that I saw no end in sight for said loneliness.

  “How about you? With work and everything, do you feel happier than you did before?”

  “I umm…” I sipped my Diet Coke, trying to come up with something that would sound half true. “Yeah, work. You know… it’s always been fulfilling to help people who would never find help anywhere else.”

  “And you don’t miss anything else?”

  “Well, I…”

  I rested my chin in my hand and stared out the restaurant’s only window. The emerald pine boughs swayed slightly. Earth could be a lovely place at times, but its beauty paled in comparison to Faythander. I missed Faythander—I missed the sky king and my dragon home. I missed spending time with Wults and elves. I missed Kull the most, and now I knew I would never get him back because he didn’t exist anymore. He’d been replaced with a hardened shell of a man who only vaguely resembled the person I’d fallen in love with.

  “To be honest, I sort of hate my life right now.” I stared at my hands, dreading his reply.

  “Yes. I know.”

  I looked up. “You do?”

  He nodded.

  “How long have you known?”

  “Pretty much when I first saw you.”

  “That long, huh?” Brent knew me better than I gave him credit for.

  “You don’t seem like yourself. Something’s different, but I still haven’t been able to decide what—or why.”

  I pushed loose strands of hair behind my ears, my fingers brushing over their pointed tips, reminding me that I wasn’t like him. I wasn’t like anyone. I didn’t really fit in anywhere or with anyone. There was only one person who made me feel normal, and he wasn’t the same.

  “You can tell me what’s going on. You know that, right?”

  I avoided eye contact. “I guess.”

  “So what’s up?”

  I let out a breath of air. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I have to go back to Faythander and speak with my stepfather about what’s been going on here, and I have to take someone who I used to have feelings for with me. I’m not really looking forward to it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Would you be referring to the guy you dumped me for?”

  “Yes, but don’t rub it in my face, all right? I should have never dated him. I get it. I’m an awful judge of character, and I should have never let myself get caught up with a person like him.”

  “Olive, look at me.”

  Reluctantly, I looked up, expecting to see his gloating grin. Instead, his dark eyes were wide and intense. “Do you still love him?”

  “What? No!”

  Brent didn’t look convinced. “You’re positive about that?”

  “It’s been ten months. I’m over him.”

  He didn’t answer. He only gave me that glare that told me he wasn’t buying it.

  “I mean… I should be over him by now, right?”

  “Not necessarily. You tell me—why can’t you get over him?”

  “First, I am over him. And second, if for some reason I wasn’t, it’s not entirely my fault. Our society thinks love can be turned off and on, like it’s a lightbulb or something. People in the gossip magazines always talk about open relationships, no strings attached, that sort of thing. But the truth is, once love touches you, it leaves a mark. It imprints on your brain chemistry, and it’s not something you can just wish away.

  “Anyway,” I said, sitting back, “that may be one reason.”

  “It’s not an altogether bad reason.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  The waitress stopped by our table and left the ticket. Before I felt ready, we were back in Brent’s car and headed for the festival grounds. I watched through the glass as the sun sank and my mind replayed our conversation.

  Do you still love him?

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning I woke with a pounding headache. I hadn’t slept well. At 4:30, I’d finally given up and headed for the shower.

  I stood in the efficiency shower with the hot water beating on my back, my eyes closed, replaying my conversation with Brent. I didn’t want to, but I needed to come clean. I would always have feelings for Kull. No matter where I lived or how much distance was between us, he had taken a piece of my heart when he’d left me.

  The cucumber-scented body wash helped wake me, and after exiting the shower and toweling off, I felt better. I’d admitted I had a problem, and that was my first step to recovery. If I wanted to finish this quest without reigniting my feelings for King Skullsplitter, then coming to terms with my emotions was a necessity. I couldn’t afford to fall for him again.

  Han Solo purred at my side as I pulled on my leather boots. I’d worn my forest garb—a mix and match of gray leather pants, a dark green sweater, and my green hooded cloak. I suspected that simply asking my stepfather for an explanation of the bloodthorn would be too easy, and that if I really wanted answers, I would have to scour Faythander to find them—hence the practical questing gear.

  I grabbed my pack, made sure I had my mirror, canteen, and a few food items, then left Han with a drawn-out good-bye. However, I had to force myself to step outside.

  The air chilled my exposed hands and face as I crossed the distance between the camper and the fairies’ tent. It was still dark outside, and only a few streetlamps far in the distance lit my path.

  Already I felt homesick. Why couldn’t I just go back to my little apartment on the island? Sure, I’d been lonely and bored, but I hadn’t risked my life once. Plus, Han liked me better when I spent more time at home.

  Approaching the open dale by the fairies’ tent, I didn’t spot the Wults, so I waited. Soon, they appeared. They were both dressed as I’d expected—thick animal-hide cloaks, dark leather, and an array of weapons. Kull had strapped Bloodbane to his back, and in the near darkness, with a gentle wind tousling his loose blond hair across his face, he looked like he’d come straight from a legend.

  There was a reason this guy had a reputation. The first time I’d met him, I’d sworn never to challenge him. Looking at him now, with grim determination in his eyes and in the set of his jaw, I reaffirmed my commitment.

  Heidel walked beside her brother. While she also seemed menacing with her weapons and armor, I noted that her usual look of defiance—the look I’d become so accustomed to in the past—had disappeared. Despite the stories of her mistreatment, she walked beside her brother as an equal.

  The fairies trailed the Wult siblings, as did Rolf and Brodnik. When everyone had entered the clearing, the company of warriors and fairies stopped. All eyes focused on me.

  “You’re ready?” I asked the two Wults.

  They both nodded.

  “Your memory charms—” I asked, “I assume they’ve got enough power to withstand the crossing?”

  Prince Terminus walked forward. “Yes,” he answered, “they are fueled with fairy magic. They will withstand both the crossing to Faythander and back to Earth—and perhaps a final crossing back to Faythander, although there is not enough magic for any crossings beyond that.”

  “You’re sure?” I asked.

  “I am positive. I enacted the spells myself.”

  I turned to the Wults. “In that case, I hope you’re ready to return to Faythander.”

  “We’re prepared to fulfill our duty to the fairies,” Heidel answered.

  The fairy princess moved to stand by her brother. “May the spirits protect you. I leave each of you with a gift.”

  A ball of lilac-colored light formed in her cupped hand, and soon, three flowers appeared. She stopped beside me.

  “Y
ou, Olive, I gift with a sunfire flower. May its beauty and warmth replace the ice in your heart.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I wasn’t sure how to answer as she pinned the flower to my breast over my heart. Before I had a chance to give some sort of thanks for her gift, she moved to Heidel.

  “To you,” the princess said, “I give the silver lilac. You have overcome much adversity. I gift you with the knowledge that you need never look back.”

  After pinning the flower, the princess moved to Kull.

  “And lastly—Kull, King of Wults, I give you the periwinkle faeflower. It stands for knowledge. The one you love who has departed wishes you to know that death merely leads us to another plane of existence. He journeys with you and guides you always. He has never left you.”

  As she pinned the flower to his shirt, Kull stared straight ahead, but I knew that look. He was fighting back his emotions. I was sure being told that his deceased father journeyed with him had been unexpected.

  Brodnik and Rolf stood tall as they waited beside the fairies. “We will guard the fairy prince and princess while you are gone,” Brodnik said. “We give our oath to protect them with our lives.”

  “Very well,” Heidel answered.

  Overhead, the sky had lightened to alternating shades of pink and gray, indicating that morning was only a few minutes away.

  “We need to go,” I said, then unshouldered my pack and removed my mirror.

  I handled the case gently as I found a flat place to lay it on the grass. Opening the mirror, I focused on keeping a calm mind. I still didn’t trust the mirror or my magic, but if we wanted to make it to Faythander, I would have to make do. We needed answers, and the time it would take me to test and retest my magic would set us back days.

  Carefully, I replaced my backpack and lifted the case again. The figurines resting inside were dark and shadowed, but as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon, they glinted silver.

  “It’s time,” I said. “Place your hands on the mirror.”

  Heidel and Kull stood beside me, and they each placed their hands on the mirror.

  Kull’s nearness made me catch my breath. I’d forgotten how it felt to be near him, to inhale the scent of his hair and clothing—like sandalwood—a familiar smell that made my heart skip a beat. I exhaled, forcing my pattering heart to let go of the familiar.

  He isn’t mine anymore. Let him go.

  “Are you ready?” I asked.

  “Yes,” they answered in unison.

  “Good, but I have to warn you both, my magic has been off lately. I don’t know what’s happening, but the last several times I tried to create a portal, I failed.”

  Heidel narrowed her eyes. “You failed? What makes you think you’ll succeed now?”

  I gave a sidelong glance at Kull, then looked away. “Luck, I hope.” After all, he’d once been my good luck charm.

  After another deep breath, I placed my hand between theirs, letting my palm and fingers connect with the glass. With our three hands pressed to the mirror, I closed my eyes and conjured the magic.

  Swirling colors of blue and amber mingled and then spiraled around us. When Geth had taken the magic from Faythander, I’d been forced to rely on Earth magic, and now it was a part of me. Once Faythander’s magic had returned, my powers had become an odd mixture of magic from each world, which could have been one reason why I had such trouble conjuring portals. Letting my mind relax and my breathing deepen, I envisioned the dragons’ forest.

  My vision blurred as the ground fell away and the wind whistled through my ears. Blue and pink lights sparkled, then the dragons’ forest appeared around us.

  Just as I thought of pulling my hand away from the screen, lightning crackled from the mirror, jolting through my body, and reflexively, I jerked my hand away from the glass. The forest disappeared, and instead, my body tumbled through an open void.

  Screaming, I panicked as I fell through the emptiness.

  What’s happening?

  Cold droplets stung my face as thunder boomed loud in my ears. Gray clouds crowded around me, dampening my skin. Finally, I was able to comprehend the situation. I knew where I was now—I was falling to my death.

  A flash of gold formed below me and swooped me up. The familiar texture of my stepfather’s smooth scales made me open my eyes.

  “Fan’twar?” I screamed, one part relieved, the other still terrified.

  “Hold tight,” he called back, “we are not out of the storm yet.”

  I clung to him with every ounce of energy I had left.

  I’m alive. I won’t die today.

  The storm disoriented me. I had no idea where land was, or if the sky was up or down. Lightning crackled around us, and thunder boomed so loud it deafened me, drowning out the sounds of pattering rain.

  Keeping my arms firmly clamped around my stepfather’s neck, I prayed we made it to the ground without getting electrocuted. Fan’twar spiraled downward, and I clenched his neck with a death grip.

  Up ahead, a patch of light gray formed, and Fan’twar headed for it. The driving rain made it hard to see, but I focused on the small patch of light. As we flew nearer, the clouds began to thin, and after a few minutes, the downpour turned to a damp mist.

  Fan’twar spiraled downward again, and soon I saw mountains. Their jagged peaks rose into the air, touching the sky. Surrounded by clouds, the mountain range seemed to float in the air.

  The wind died down, and now only the whoosh of Fan’twar’s wings disturbed the air as we circled the dragons’ mountain. But where were Kull and Heidel?

  “Fan’twar,” I called, “where are my friends? What happened?”

  “Trouble with the portals,” he called back. “When your companions arrived unscathed in the dragons’ forest, I immediately searched you out. I’m lucky I found you when I did.”

  Trouble with the portals? So, it wasn’t just me who was having problems. Fan’twar glided down until he spotted the cave’s opening. We slowed our descent and then maneuvered into the cave. His feet connected with the ground, and as I slid off his back, I felt as if I could finally stop holding my breath.

  We stood in the dragon caverns—a massive network of caves and tunnels that the sky king and some land dwellers called home. This was where my stepfather reigned, and it was where he had raised me.

  I circled Fan’twar until I stood near his face. My heart leapt at the familiar sight of my stepfather. Golden spikes rimmed his eyes and protruded from his long neck. I gave his neck a tight hug and didn’t pull away until I heard footsteps behind me.

  Kull and Heidel, both soaking wet, entered the room.

  “I see you’ve made it,” Heidel said.

  Kull didn’t speak.

  As I thought back to the past several days, I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard him so quiet for such a long period of time. But this isn’t Kull, I reminded myself. Perhaps this is normal for King Skullsplitter.

  I patted my stepfather’s neck. “I had help. We’re lucky I’ve got a clairvoyant dragon king as my protector. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure I would have fallen to my death.” I glanced up at him. “What’s going on with the portals?”

  He growled, a deep sound that told me he wasn’t happy about something. “The first unstable portal we noted happened when Stranatos tried to cross to the Southlands. It took him halfway there and then dropped him into the sky.”

  “He’s lucky he has wings,” I said.

  “Yes. After that, more portals became increasingly unstable. As of yet, I have only theories as to why such a thing is happening—I think it may have something to do with the missing starstone.

  “I feared the same trouble with the portals would happen to you whenever you tried to cross, so I have been keeping watch for you since then.”

  As he spoke, he led us through the tunnels. I noticed several sky dwellers milling about, which was a contrast to what I’d seen the last time I’d been here. The loss of magic had taken a heavy toll on the dragons, but no
w it seemed they were recovered. However, I feared the missing Arrubicus stone and the unusual portal activity did not bode well for future peace in Faythander.

  We entered Fan’twar’s chambers. He ruled from a round dais surrounded by turquoise water. Large, beryl-shaped crystals, glowing with the bright blue intensity of Faythander magic, grew from the floor and ceiling. A few had large cracks running through them, evidence of last winter’s magic loss.

  Fan’twar climbed onto his dais. I followed, leaping over the narrow moat, and then I found a ledge to sit on. The two Wults waited near the entry. Neither of them looked very comfortable being here. I couldn’t blame them—humans were born to fear dragons.

  “You may take leave,” he said to my companions. “Galatius will show you to the gathering room.”

  Galatius, a red, spine-backed dragon that resembled a stegosaurus, appeared in the hallway, and Kull and Heidel followed him out of the room.

  “You are troubled,” the sky king said after the sound of their footsteps had disappeared down the hallway.

  “Yes, I’m concerned about the fairies’ starstone. The thief is hiding on Earth, and he—or she—has killed two people. The trouble is, I don’t have a clue about what creature I’m dealing with. I suspect it’s a shape-shifter, albeit a limited one. The Wults think it may be a phøca. The fairies suspect it’s the bloodthorn. But whatever it is, it’s extremely difficult to track down. The textbooks don’t say anything, so I was forced to find information in a fairy bestiary of mythical creatures. If I don’t find this thing soon, more people could be killed. I fear this has gone way beyond a search for a missing fairy starstone. Do you have any idea what sort of creature it could be?”

  “The bloodthorn,” Fan’twar said, “is a creature of myth. The phøca is also derived from ancient Norse mythology. If either of these beings do somehow exist, I have never encountered them.”

  “Is it possible that they exist and you’ve never seen one?”

  “Possible, but not likely. I have lived a very long time, and I have interacted with many creatures—some that are now extinct—but I have never encountered either of these creatures.”