Reflection Pond (30 page)

Callie stared at her sister, bemused.
“Jam?”

Sapphire nodded and ran a hand over her forehead, leaving a streak of scarlet. “Yes, jam.”

Callie laughed and hugged Sapphire again. “I just thought,” she said into Sapphire’s neck, “I don’t know. I thought Hazel would have you locked away in a tower. That you’d be surrounded by notebooks and sketchpads. That you wouldn’t be,” she leaned away and searched Sapphire’s face, “well,
you.”

“I think,” Sapphire said, returning to the roiling pot of red liquid on the stove, “that you have a fairytale fetish. Besides,
there’s no towers in
Eirensae.
Princesses, either, though I have heard rumor of a prince.” She winked, and Callie got the impression that the gesture was more conspiratorial than it should’ve been.

“How’s Rowan?” Sapphire thrust a ladle into Callie’s hand and directed her to the table, where a pot of cooling jam waited.

“I broke his nose today.”

Sapphire froze, and then chuckled. “Good for you.” She picked up a second ladle and began to scoop the hot mixture into jars, her hands moving with practiced deftness. “What has he told you?”

“He’s leaving.” Callie swallowed the hollowness in her throat. “Two weeks from now.” She palmed the giant spoon, but didn’t move to help Sapphire.

“And you want to go with him.”

“Yes,” Callie said, surprised at the fervor behind the word.

Sapphire nodded slowly. She dropped the ladle into the empty pot and folded herself into the chair opposite Callie, reaching for her hands. “I think it best if the two of you stay together, though I’ll never admit I told you that.”

“What did you see?” Callie demanded, curiosity winning out over fear.

“When you were little, did you ever read those ‘choose your own destiny’ books?” Callie nodded and Sapphire continued. “What I see is a lot like that. There are all these different decisions to
be made, but unlike the books, there isn’t just one reader. There are hundreds of readers, and they’re all choosing independently of each other. Though their stories will intertwine, they aren’t accounting for anyone else in their decisions. It’s impossible, at this point, for me to discern anything. I can only rely on instinct, and instinct tells me that you should trust Rowan.”

“I will, I mean, I do,” Callie said after a while.

Sapphire arched one eyebrow.

“I do trust him, with everyone but himself, which is why I have to go. He’s not afraid of anything, and he’s reckless to his own ruin.”

“Oh I think there’s one thing he’s afraid of,” Sapphire said, pulling her hands from Callie’s.

“Mm,” Callie said, noncommittal.

“He’s scared for you.”

“Mm.”

Sapphire slapped the table, clattering metal lids and rings. “He cares for you. I’m prophetess, Callie, not some oblivious bystander,” she broke off with an angry noise. “And your sister, at that. Even if I hadn’t witnessed it myself, he’s told me. Go ahead,” she encouraged with a wry smile, “tell me it isn’t so.
Lie,
Callie. Tell me that Rowan doesn’t care for you. Tell me that
you
don’t care for
him.”

Callie’s face reddened and her lips remained shut. Sapphire had pinned her.

“You two are good for each other, despite how hard you fight it. Besides, you can’t stay here. I always knew you would leave. Being under Rowan’s protection is the best of all the worst situations. You’re being selfless, Callie, and that makes me so proud of you.”

“You know what Hazel plans for me, don’t you?” Callie whispered.

Sapphire took a deep breath and nodded. “You can’t let it happen. You have to get away from her and
stay
away from her. All you need is a way to break the binding spell.”

Callie looked up sharply, ignoring the burning dread in her gut. It was true, then. “You know how to break it?”

Sapphire shook her head. “No, but I know someone who does.”

“I’m scared,” Callie admitted.

“I know you are. But I’ll be okay here. Hazel controls me, and she trusts that control. All you need to worry about is yourself.” Sapphire smiled. “And keeping Rowan in line.”

Callie groaned.

“Open up to him, Callie. You might be surprised by what he offers. He did save your life, after all.” Sapphire stood. “You have to get going now.” She edged around the table and caught Callie in a tight hug. “I love you, sister.”

Callie felt tears threaten her eyes. “I love you, too.”

Though it wasn’t a goodbye, at least not yet, it felt as permanent as one. Callie made it out the door with the directions to Gardenia’s and tears spilling down her cheeks.

***

Callie hesitated on the doorstep. Creepers crawled up the worn stone stairs and were soft under her bare feet. Though Rowan had healed the gash on her palm from Hazel’s blade, Callie still felt the sting of the knife and the unsettling weight of the binding spell. She would be glad to be rid of it, yet the thought of being
free
worried Callie. She hadn’t been in
Eirensae
long, but the human world felt far away, wispy, like the clinging fog of a dream. It terrified her to go there again.

Shaking off her nerves, she rapped on the doorframe. Gardenia answered
immediately, as though she was standing on the other side just waiting for Callie to knock. Gardenia’s smile deepened the fine filigree of lines beside her eyes and mouth, belying the youthfulness of her gaze. “Calla Lily, please, come in.”

Gardenia’s house was small, the space cramped with pots and jars and drying herbs, but clean and neat as though she took great pains to make the tiny rooms presentable. Gardenia went to a dying fire and added a log, sliding a teapot over the flame once it leapt to cheery orange and yellow. The older woman was petite, her head reaching just below Callie’s shoulders. Her hair was gray, shot through with streaks of pure white, and she wore it long and loose over an ocean blue gown that matched her eyes.

“Sapphire told me you’d come,” Gardenia said, leading Callie to the table and gesturing for her to sit. “Seems you’ve become the most pivotal piece to
Eirensae’s
survival. Can’t say that I’m surprised, with all that energy you carry around.” Gardenia chuckled and busied her hands preparing tea. “Sapphire didn’t tell me your plans, just that she believes you will save our people.” Gardenia looked up, pursed her lips, as though she hoped Callie might enlighten her to the details.

Callie lifted a shoulder. The worst, and possibly best, part, was that Callie had no idea what was going on, either, just that she would refuse Hazel and follow Rowan when he left.

“Suit yourself, then, dear.” The teapot whistled and Gardenia hurried to retrieve it. When they both had steaming mugs of fragrant lavender tea in their hands, Gardenia continued. “I’ve witnessed the ebb and flow of the fae, much like the tides of the ocean, for over two millennia.”

Her seventeen years felt like a tiny blip on the map of time, hardly discernible at all, and yet Gardenia trusted Callie with the fate of her beloved city.

“I can feel the night settled over
Eirensae
, dark as the forest under a new moon, hovering, as though the entire city is hanging from a precipice just waiting to fall. I’ve seen the blackness in the prophetess’s visions, and the fear that she carries in silence. I’ve also seen hope, and I see it in your eyes,
a stoirin
.” Gardenia stroked the back of Callie’s hand where it lay on the table between them.

“To fear the unknown is to
borrow trouble. We must not fear the future, child, only the failure of the weak to act. You are not weak, so there is little to fear.” Gardenia patted Callie’s hand and sat back, lifting her mug to her lips. She sipped the tea thoughtfully.

Their gazes met and held. Callie swallowed hard.

“Your life is tangled in things that will be difficult to escape, but you are smart, and strong,
so
strong. You have a pure heart, Callie, and you honor us with it. You are far too young for the tasks set before you.”

“Tasks?”
Callie murmured, riveted. The words were lyrical, the twisted refrain of a story that Callie couldn’t unravel to fit her life.

“War, death, fear, it will overcome our people. Many will die from cowardice; others will die defending things that never belonged to us. The way of our people is stagnant.
You
will change that, either to our success or peril.”

“I…
I—”
Words formed in Callie’s mouth, but none broke the surface. A knot formed in her stomach, weighted heavy with terror and guilt. She never planned to save
Eirensae
from some impending war. The city was her home, her family, but how could she alone defend it?

“Know that we will stand with you to whatever end may come,” Gardenia said.
“Now, for the binding spell.” She held out her withered hand expectantly and produced a knife from the pocket of her dress. The handle was bone, worn smooth from years of use. The blade curved and tapered to a wicked point. Ceremonial markings etched the sides, four looping symbols that Callie did not recognize. “Your palm,” Gardenia prompted when Callie remained frozen.

The cut barely stung and soon a pool of blood collected in Callie’s hand. Gardenia
chanted, voice as steady as the hands that held Callie’s. Warmth rose under Callie’s skin, seeming to come from all over as though the sun had scorched her. The heat drew to a high point in her upturned palm and the fresh cut sealed, leaving a puddle of crimson which Gardenia wiped away with a towel.

“Hazel’s blood,” Gardenia said, closing Callie’s fingers into a fist. “You’re free.” The old woman squeezed Callie’s hand. “Promise me that you will be careful. Don’t be afraid to follow your heart, it often knows more than your head.”

“Hazel will be mad at you for doing this,” Callie said.

Gardenia laughed. “You leave Hazel to me.” She pulled Callie into a soft, violet scented hug. “Trust yourself.”

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

Rowan glanced up when Ash strolled into the library later that evening. A deep scowl twisted Ash’s face and his eyes widened when he saw Rowan. “What happened to you?”

Rowan grimaced and touched his nose gingerly, feeling the soft give of crushed bone from sparring with Callie. He’d made the mistake of looking in the mirror after his shower. Bruises darkened the skin beneath his eyes and the bridge of his nose had a bumpy ridge that hadn’t been there before. Strangely, the imperfection didn’t bother him.

“It was the same thing that made you so chipper. Or should I say, same
someone,”
he said.

Ash sprawled into the chair opposite Rowan and grinned. “She’s breaking hearts and noses?
Classic.”
Ash slid the book Rowan was reading toward him, eyes narrowing as he read the foreign words. “You’re researching the markings of
Fraeburdh?”

Rowan lifted one shoulder, feeling the amusement drain out of him. He could deny it, tell his friend that he was simply curious about the other city, but Ash wasn’t stupid. Everything about
Fraeburdh
fit Rowan like second skin. The fighting, the knowledge, the anger, the absolute
blackness
of his energy. His
wings.

Ash scanned the pages for a moment, flipping back and forth. He stopped when he came across a drawing of a faerie with sharp wings hovering above its back. The points ended in talons that dripped crimson. A snarl warped the man’s lips, revealing rows and rows of feline teeth, pointed as needles. They, too,
were covered with blood that spilled over his lips and dribbled from his chin. His body was emaciated, ribs visible, collarbone protruding. Ash scrutinized the drawing and then searched Rowan’s face. “I see the resemblance.”

“Ha ha,” Rowan said, snatching the book back.

“You can’t honestly think you belong there.”

“Look at me, Ash, and look at the fae from
Fraeburdh.
They love to fight, they have dark colored energy and animalistic markings.” Ash held up a hand to stop Rowan’s rant, but the words spilled from Rowan like water tumbling over a cliff.
“I
love to fight,
I
have black energy,
I
have wings. It’s like looking in a damn mirror.” He slammed his fist on the open page, making it jump.

“I
have animalistic markings,” Ash said, lifting his hands, where Rowan knew webbing connected the other boy’s fingers.

“Yes, but yours are
benign
, Ash. A frog…
a frog!
I’m a bird of prey! Tell me what’s benign about a crow, or a raven, or, I don’t know, a goddamn vulture.” Rowan was shouting, he couldn’t help it.

“A vulture?”
Ash smirked.

“Vulture, scavenger, carrion, as in,
I want to sustain myself off the flesh of others.”