creepy hollow 03 - faerie war Read online

  I stop and wait for Jamon to pull on some gloves and wrap a scarf around his neck. I guess he can’t magically add warmth to his outfit like I can. “What do we do if Draven or his followers find this entrance?” I ask.

  “The architect faeries who carved out the inside of this mountain are busy creating a tunnel that leads through to the other side of the mountain, goes around a lake, and ends up in a forest. We’ll obviously have guards there too.”

  “And, of course, most of you can vanish from here if the mountain is ever under attack.”

  “Yes.”

  We slide past the boulder into a world whiter than I expected. A thin layer of snow covers the ground beneath my boots. “Snow?” I say to no one in particular. “Seriously? Oh, wait.” I turn to Jamon. “If Draven’s controlling the weather here, doesn’t that mean he must be somewhere nearby?”

  Jamon shakes his head as he looks down at Creepy Hollow forest. From the foot of the mountain, snow-dusted trees extend as far as I can see. “It seems like he can change the weather all across the fae realm.”

  My head snaps up. Is Jamon being serious? “All across the fae realm?” He nods, not looking at me. “The whole realm? That’s not possible. That’s . . . that’s . . .” Freaking mind-boggling.

  “That’s who we’re up against,” Jamon says grimly. He turns and peers up at the mountain looming above us. “Let’s climb. I still feel like I need more space.” We make our way up between the rocks and clumps of scraggly plants the sudden winter hasn’t killed yet. “So,” Jamon says as we climb, “the first thing we found out from our prisoner is that the brainwashing thing is true. He didn’t call it that, though. He kept talking about marked and unmarked people.”

  “Marked?”

  “Yeah. Did you get a look at his right hand?”

  A grunt escapes me as my fingers slip on wet rock. The spell heating my hands keeps melting the snow whenever I reach for a new handhold. I shift my fingers into a better grip and pull myself up. “No, I was too busy saving your life.”

  Jamon ignores my comment and continues. “He has an open circle tattooed on his right palm. It’s actually a snake that’s curled around so that its head almost meets its tail. It comes from a different symbol, one created by—”

  “Tharros,” I say, stopping my ascent as I remember suddenly. “He represented himself with the symbol of a griffin that has a snake instead of a tail, and the snake curls around the whole griffin.” Why does my brain choose to remember this of all things?

  Jamon looks down at me and nods. “Draven’s using the same symbol, I guess because it’s Tharros’ power he’s got inside him. It’s the symbol stitched onto the blue uniforms all his faeries wear. But according to the prisoner, Draven’s only using part of the symbol to mark his followers because he thought it was simpler and clearer.”

  Jamon turns and continues climbing. I follow. “Did someone have to tattoo every single one of his followers?” I ask. I try not to sound breathless when I speak. Damn, I really need to get my fitness level back up to guardian standard.

  “No, he’s using some kind of magic to brainwash everyone into supporting him. As soon as the spell touches someone, no matter what kind of fae they are, the mark shows up on their right palm. Oh, and he’s got these invisible magical sensors all over the place to detect anyone who’s unmarked.”

  “So that’s what that faerie woman was talking about. The one we hid from when you took me above ground.”

  “Yeah. Just as we guessed, Draven wants to catch every single unmarked fae and force us to follow him.”

  “And then what? When he’s got all of us under his control will he turn to the human realm?”

  “The prisoner doesn’t know. He wasn’t one of Draven’s closest advisors. He does know about the special army, though.”

  “Special army?”

  Jamon stops on a wide ledge and stands there. “As well as having all the guardians fighting for him, Draven has an army of faeries with extra abilities. Magic that other faeries don’t have. One of the Unseelie princes put it together.”

  “Zell,” I say. Thanks, memory, for another random piece of information that doesn’t fit with any of the other random pieces of information you’ve left me with.

  “You remember him?” Jamon asks. He steps out of the way as I climb up beside him onto the ledge.

  “I remember his name and who he is. I remember hating him. Other than that it’s all . . . hidden behind a fog.”

  “Okay, well, it was Zell who gathered these special faeries to form an army. It was Zell who found the chest with Tharros’ power locked inside. He figured out how to open the chest, but then Draven killed him and took the power for himself.”

  “Wow. You’ve got to be really sure of yourself to take out Unseelie royalty.” I place my hands on my hips and look out over the white-sprinkled world. I imagine Draven’s influence spreading like the enchanted winter.

  “Yeah, but here’s the real shocker,” Jamon continues. “I’d heard rumors of this, but I didn’t think it was true.”

  “What?”

  “Draven is a Seelie prince.”

  “What?” My hands slip off my hips. “How did he wind up so evil then?”

  “I don’t know. We gather from the prisoner that no one knew much about him before he killed Zell and attacked the rest of the fae realm.”

  With a sigh, I turn my attention to the ledge beneath my feet. I blow a gust of magic from my mouth. The snow vanishes, leaving the ledge dry. I sit down and wrap my arms around my knees. “So what’s happening with the Guilds?”

  Jamon takes a seat beside me. “The ones that were destroyed, like the Creepy Hollow Guild, are being rebuilt. The guardians still use the Guilds as their bases, but now they’re working for Draven. He uses them to go out and find unmarked fae, who are either taken back to be marked or are killed if they put up too much of a fight.”

  I shake my head as I imagine guardians who might be my family and friends attacking the very people they used to protect. It makes hot anger burn deep inside me. I clench my fist and pound it against the cold surface of the ledge. “He can’t be allowed to do these awful things. We have to stop him, Jamon.”

  “That’s what we plan to try and do.”

  I put my head in my hands and moan. “And I’m supposed to help you, but I’m useless the way I am.” I look up. “This prisoner of ours, is he a guardian?”

  “No, he’s from the Unseelie Court. He was one of Zell’s personal guards.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why?”

  I let out a long breath. “I really need to speak to a guardian. I need to know how to do what I’m supposed to be able to do. I mean, look at this.” I point to my wrists. “This says that I’m good at being a guardian. I was the best in my year, and yet I can’t even get the weapons to appear when I want them to.”

  “They appeared when you saved my life.”

  “Yeah, but they didn’t appear when all those faeries invaded your Underground home yesterday. And they didn’t appear earlier when I was practicing.”

  Jamon stands. “I think your self-preservation instincts need a good jolt.” He smiles. “And I’m more than happy to be the one to jolt them.”

  “So you’re going to attack me and scare the weapons into existence?”

  “When you least expect it.”

  “And if it doesn’t work every time?”

  He shrugs. “I’ll just have to keep scaring you until it does.”

  With a sigh, I get to my feet and peer down the side of the mountain. “Hmm. It looks a lot steeper going down than it did coming up.”

  “Good thing we’ve both got our own shortcut ways of getting back inside.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Are you backing down from a challenge, Jamon?”

  He folds his arms to match mine. “Not if you really are challenging me.”

  One side of my mouth pulls up. “Then let’s see who can get to the bottom first.”
r />   “You’re on.” He turns immediately and jumps off the ledge.

  “And it doesn’t count if you fall all the way down!” I shout as I jump after him.

  *

  I reach the boulder at the entrance to the mountain with nothing more than wet hands, a bruised ankle, and a scratch across my left palm. Unfortunately, Jamon reaches the boulder about two seconds before I do. No big deal. At least, that’s what I tell him, because it’s ridiculous how much of a sting I feel at losing this insignificant challenge.

  I change the subject as we walk back through the tunnels, just to get the smirk off his face. “Natesa’s still stuck in bed, isn’t she?” His cocky smile transforms into something entirely different. He nods. “Okay, so let’s go visit her. She’s probably bored by now.”

  “Oh, uh, you go ahead. I’ve got other things to do.”

  Crap. That backfired. Now I’ll have to visit her on my own. I imagine standing next to her bed not knowing what to talk about and making the situation super awkward.

  “Do you know where she’s staying?” Jamon asks as we enter the large central room.

  “Uh, yes, Farah told me this morning in case I wanted to visit her.”

  “Great.” He walks away, patting the pocket I saw him put the piece of paper into earlier. Out of habit, I touch my own pocket where I know the note from the guy I may never see again is hiding. I shake my head as I continue walking. Who cares if I never see him again? It’s not like I remember anything about him.

  Still. His note is the only link I have to my previous life.

  Farah’s directions are reliable, and I wind up at Natesa’s new home without having to ask anyone where it is. After knocking, I hear her voice telling me to come in. I step inside. The carved out home looks just like Farah’s, except there are two bedrooms instead of one.

  “In here,” Natesa calls out.

  I follow the sound of her voice to the bedroom on the right. There are two small beds inside, one of which is empty. I guess Natesa has to share with her little brother. I look across to the other bed and see her sitting up with several blankets pulled up to her chest and a book in her hand.

  “Violet! How sweet of you to visit me.” Aside from messy hair and skin a paler blue-green than usual, she looks fine.

  “Um, yeah.” I walk over to the chair beside her bed and sit down. I ask the obvious question: “So, how are you feeling?”

  “Much better.” She places the closed book on the bed. “I’m not in any pain because of all the potions they gave me, but they still insisted I stay in bed today. I felt so useless this morning with the rest of my family unpacking all of our things, but they would not let me get out of bed.”

  I chuckle. “I guess they really care about you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I know, I know.”

  With no idea what to talk about, I reach for the only subject we have in common. “Has Jamon been to see you?”

  Duh. Of course he has. Someone probably had to pry his body off this chair last night so Natesa could get some sleep.

  “Yes.” Her smile spreads wider as she traces her finger over the patterns of her blanket. “Twice today, actually.”

  Without thinking, I smile and say, “You like him, don’t you?”

  Well done, Violet. Act like you’ve known her for years instead of weeks. That’ll really help the awkwardness in this room.

  But instead of telling me to mind my own business, Natesa closes her eyes and lets her head fall back on her pillow. “Ugh, I know, I can’t ever stop thinking about him. I mean, he’s amazing. So kind and funny, always taking care of people, and gorgeous on top of everything else. Who wouldn’t like him?” She stops suddenly, putting a hand over her mouth and giggling. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I think I’ve startled you with my outburst. It’s just . . . Ugh, I like him so much that even when there are far more important things to talk about, like the fact that we had to leave the home we’ve known for centuries or that we were attacked last night and could have all died, all I want to talk about is Jamon!”

  I can’t help laughing. This girl is so unguarded it’s refreshing. “So why don’t you just tell him? I mean, it’s clear you’re going to go crazy if you don’t.”

  Her laughter mingles with mine but doesn’t take long to disappear. Her sweet smile is sad as she says, “There wouldn’t be any point in telling him. He’s intended for someone else.”

  “Intended? Like . . . an arranged union?”

  “Yes. His father is the Leader Supreme, after all; Jamon could never be with an ordinary girl like me. He’s going to form a union with the daughter of a Leader Supreme from another community. I think it’s supposed to happen about a year after he becomes a leader. Although,” she adds, “who knows what will happen now that the whole world has turned upside down.”

  “Does Jamon know about this arranged union?”

  “Of course. He’s known his whole life.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it’s just that it’s obvious he’d rather be with you.”

  Her cheeks turn pink as she shakes her head. “No, that’s silly. He’s very kind to me, but we’re just friends.”

  “Well, yes, you both act like you’re friends.” I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “But I doubt I’m the only one who knows you both wish you could be more.”

  She shakes her head again but can’t keep the smile from her face. “Anyway,” she says, “what about you?”

  I sit back. “What about me?”

  “Do you remember having anyone who was special to you? You know, before The Destruction?”

  My fingers itch to touch my pocket, but I resist. “No. I only seem to remember people who didn’t mean much to me. Like this guy named Tank. I know he was a guard, but . . . I don’t remember who or what he guarded.” I laugh. “Isn’t that silly?”

  She nods. “Maybe he was your guard. Was he hot?”

  I shrug. “Sort of, I guess. But why would I need a guard?”

  “Maybe you’re, like, a princess. Or maybe your parents are super important and they have enemies, so their daughter needs to be protected.”

  “I’m a guardian. Shouldn’t I be able to protect myself?”

  “Hmm. Good point.” She bites her lip, then starts rattling off another theory. I join in, feeling more relaxed than I have in weeks. By the time I leave—much later than I’d planned—I think I’ve spoken more words in one afternoon than I have in all the days I’ve been with the reptiscillas combined. I’m also feeling more determined than ever to find out who I really am and what happened to my memory during The Destruction. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life making up stories about my past.

  So, once again, I find a quiet corner of a tunnel and slide down onto the floor. I ease the note from my pocket, hoping that this time, this time, I’ll recognize something I didn’t recognize before. The shape of the letters, maybe. Or the tilt of the words. Or the nickname at the end.

  I smooth the small page out over my knees and read the words again:

  V,

  I have to go somewhere. I can’t tell you where or why or who sent me, but it’s important that I leave now. Don’t try to find me. It isn’t safe for you to know where I’m going—someone might try to get the information out of you. I know I’m leaving you at a time of great uncertainty and danger, but I also know that you’re more than capable of kicking any villain’s ass without me. Just do me one favor: don’t get yourself killed, okay? I’ll see you soon, Sexy Pixie.

  Ryn

  PART

  II

  Take the faerie paths to the other side of our realm where the Dragon’s Back mountain range is. Go to the foot of the peak that looks like a dragon’s tooth. Climb straight up for half a day. Look for a grouping of three tall rocks like fingers in a row. The entrance is at the base of the middle rock. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find.

  Yeah. Rig
ht.

  Eight days later and where am I? In the middle of flipping nowhere. At the foot of a mountain range. Disheveled, hungry, and frustrated. All because Kale, Violet’s father, sent me off on this mission. This highly important, highly secret, highly unsuccessful mission.

  I dump my pack at my feet and stare up at the mountain peak I’m starting to hate the sight of. I think it’s the right one. It looks more like a dragon’s tooth than any of the others. Unless . . . dammit, they all look like dragon’s teeth. And I’ve climbed up at least five peaks in this mountain range. There’s no grouping of three tall rocks anywhere.

  I close my eyes and rub my hand across my unshaven jaw. What makes this situation even more infuriating is that I have no communication devices with me. No amber, no mirror, nothing. Because what else did Kale say? It isn’t safe to use your amber. New magical technology allows people to track communication devices when you use them.

  Great.

  The guy is clearly paranoid.

  And I’m starting to think the Order of the Guard doesn’t exist.

  The Order of the Guard. A secret group of faeries guarding an ancient weapon that could destroy Tharros’ enduring power. I’d like to believe this Order really exists, but I have to admit it seems unlikely. It was only the barest of a rumor that led Kale to begin searching for them in the first place. And it took him almost a year to gather enough information on where they might be hiding. Barely anyone knew what he was talking about. It’s been so long since guardians destroyed Tharros all those centuries ago. Anyone who might have known about a secret weapon that could destroy the power he left behind is probably dead by now.

  I sit down on the nearest rock and weave a spell around myself to ward off the chill. It’s worse here than back home in Creepy Hollow. The leaves have only just begun to turn autumn gold there.

  I want to go home.

  Yeah. As much as I hate the thought of failure, home is where I want to be. I want to get back to fighting bad guys, solving crimes, and having Violet try to sneak up on me in my bedroom. I want to sit at the top of the gargan tree whispering secrets in her ear and kissing her.