Chapter Four

“So, you promised answers.” Myra demanded of Illa as soon as they returned to the privacy rooms, Nathan in tow. As much as she wanted to make him leave, she didn't want to fight with him about it just now. There was another more important battle to be fought. Myra just hoped it didn't come to actual fighting. None of them wanted anyone overhearing what was about to be told. Knowledge about Myra that she wasn’t even allowed to have shouldn’t be in other people’s hands.

“If I remember correctly, I did say perhaps,” Illa smiled. “Though answers I will provide as best I can.”

She led the small party to her room and reached into a chest at the foot of her bed. Inside it among many things Myra didn't recognize was a crystal oval glass. Etchings covered the entire outer rim, symbols she couldn't even begin to guess the meanings of. Though the crystal was flawless, Myra could tell it was quite old, ancient even.

And powerful. Nathan had only begun to teach Myra how to open herself up to magic and even she could sense the energy emanating from the object.

Illa held it with reverence, carefully making sure she had a good grasp on it before she moved to face the other two. "This is what Summer and I were speaking into."

Nathan nodded, as if that was what he expected.

Shaking her head, Illa went on. "You know we aren't going to hurt you, Myra. Summer and I are only here to help look after you. There are dangers you don't know about, that you can't possibly know about, because of your mother and the man she laid with."

"What?! What in the world are you talking about? Just tell me who you were talking to and why."

"I don't think she can, Myra." Nathan interjected. "She's under compulsion not to, aren’t you?”

Illa simply nodded, pressing the crystal glass into Myra's hands.

“And this glass....” Nathan began. “It has something to do with Myra?”

Again, she nodded without speech.

As soon as the symbols touched Myra's skin, swirls of color began to spiral through the crystal. Every hue imaginable coiled from the edges towards the center. Myra barely had time to recognize the entire rainbow before it melted in on itself, becoming solely shades of purple.

And then it went blank.

Myra looked up. “What in the world was that?”

Again, it was Nathan who answered her. “That can happen when a calling glass by one of your close family comes into contact with you. Usually it's because your magical signatures are so similar.” At Myra's confusion, he elaborated. “Immediate family: mother, father, sibling. However for such an intense reaction, it must have been created with the intention of letting you know who made it. It was her father, yes?”

Illa merely stared at the two of them, her impassive face immobile.

“He must have commanded you not to speak of it. A human couldn't have managed doing so. You’re tasked to protect her?”

Myra thought she felt betrayed before. Illa hadn’t acknowledged Nathan’s words or even twitched a muscle, but she didn’t deny anything he said. If it wasn’t true, she would be able to tell them. Myra's feet shuffled backwards without her command.

Nathan finally looked over. He seemed to have only just remembered that Myra was there, even as he was dissecting and pulling apart the most important things in her life. Shocked, he tried to mitigate his words.

“No, Myra. It’s not treachery. People can be tasked to protect you and still love you and want to be in your life. Illa is not here just for duty. She is still your friend. She is more than your friend. You have to believe her.”

Illa still hadn’t moved. Tears formed in her immobile eyes.

Something inside Myra broke. She bolted out the door.

“Myra!” Nathan called out.

Myra heard him begin to dash after her.

“No,” Illa denied him. Her first words since her betrayal had come to light. “Let her be. She needs time.”

Like hell, I do, Myra thought furiously, even as the rooms flashed by her, even as hallways zipped away. She passed through the archways leading outside and the pillars of the courtyard. Beyond them lay woods. Her feet bounded for them.

Ancient, lush, wild woods. Able to be what they were without interference. Almost, a quiet voice in the back of her head said. Trees boasted trunks thicker than a man’s wingspan, their tallest branches seeming to tickle the bottoms of clouds. Vines hung from their lengths, leaves and ivy fighting for space among the wood. Only small patches of sunlight reached the ground beneath. Grasses, weeds, and flowers littered the forest floor. Green and brown were utterly inadequate to describe the hues seen in these beings. From the lightest and brightest green, a luminescent white, to the darkest of the dark, almost black. From the pale inner bark of a living oak to the dark, rough brown of its exterior.

New life and death. The tree or the flower may die, but the forest lives forever.

Myra ran among the living and the dead, among those who will always be and those no one remembers.

Anyone else would have smashed themselves against the trees long ago. Vines would have tripped their feet, snatching them from propulsion. Weeds tall as a man would have blocked their path.

Myra's feet skirted around the trunks; vines patted her back to urge her on; weeds leaned away from her feet.

She heard it before she saw it. A gentle chuckling of water, falling over stones that lay in its path. No more than a few feet deep and twice that wide, a stream cut through the woods. This one must have been young, comparatively, to be so small. Clear water flowed through its banks. One could see all the way to the bottom. Fish glided along in a world constantly moving and constantly full of danger. In one dense clump of water weeds, tadpoles swam around each other. Bugs crawled, flew, and scuttled everywhere. But not on her. They seemed to sense their presence would be unwelcome.

A normal, human storm here was on its way. It would pass through soon, but for now the forest was safe.

Myra slipped through a hole in revealed tree roots and down into an alcove. She found this place in her first year here. The earth had eroded away just enough for a small adult or child to curl into. Anything could be seen from here, but only carefully selected viewpoints could see in. It was perfect if one needed to be alone.

Myra needed time? No, she didn’t. Illa and Summer had lied to Myra her whole life. They knew what she had been asking about when weird things would happen. They knew who her father was, how much it ached for Mom to skirt around his memory. They knew who she was and refused to tell her. If it was as easy as finding someone else to explain it, they could have done that years ago. Myra could be safer if she knew that she needed to be careful, if there really was any danger before she went looking. She certainly wouldn’t have gone off with someone who was mostly a stranger to find out what her two best friends should have told her.

Myra knew she was being stupid and childish. As much as she didn’t want that fact to rise to the surface, it scraped away the harsh edges of her anger. Anger only stemmed from hurt. The closest people in her life, albeit one who hadn’t contacted her in seventeen years, lied to her about who she was and kept vital information from her. She had to know if she was in danger. Didn’t Mom realize that keeping people ignorant is what always kills the protagonist in the cautionary tale?

Even as the thought crossed her mind, Myra knew she only acted out of fear and love. And that Illa and Summer had, too. They might have been asked to look out for her and be with her always, but love certainly had grown. Hell, for all Myra knew, her father had asked them because they loved her. Maybe they had been friends first.

But that didn’t make it any better.

Here she was, now thrown into a world she knew nothing about. That it was her fault didn’t escape her. Myra should have asked them, but how could she have known it would go this far or that it had been such a secret in the first place?

And the vow. What were they to protect her from at all costs?

If nothing else, Myra had to go back to find out at least that. She sighed, heaving herself out of the alcove. No, she had to go back because they were her friends. They did the best they could to look out for her. She couldn’t fault them for doing that as well as loving her. That duty had led to friendship or the other way around couldn’t change anything. As much as Myra felt betrayed, she knew enough about faeries to know when one makes a promise, they couldn’t get out of it. Unless, of course, they skirted around the exact wording of the promise. And besides how were they to know there would be another faery who would be able to explain to her what they could not? Maybe faeries contacting humans weren't that common.

The forest seemed to agree with her decision to go back. Wind rushed at her back and soil pressed up against her feet, urging her along. The spirit within the woods always seemed to guide Myra to where she really needed to be. Not exactly where she wanted to be. Her alcove helped her realize the truth within herself when nothing else would.

Rain lashed down just as she stepped under the canopy of the courtyard. Wind slashed the treetops around and lightning marred the sky.

True to form, both Illa and Summer were waiting in her room when she returned. Summer sat at Myra's desk, idly fiddling with her pens and pencils. Illa lounged on her bed, facing the ceiling. Concern warred with anger on their faces. Both looked like their thoughts were very far away, as if they were contemplating and dismissing things.

The second Myra entered the room, their eyes snapped to her.

"Where have you been?!" Summer demanded.

"You know exactly where she was," Illa told her.

"If Nathan was right about everything, I can figure out the 'my dad is alive' stuff later. Just tell me what the vow is and why you think I'm in danger. Other than that faery at the party."

"We can get you out of that agreement. Once we prove you're fae, it'll be fine." Illa assured Myra. "The other part...."

Her gaze flickered to the corner. Myra swiveled to see Nathan standing by her dresser and restrained a sigh. They couldn't tell her this either.

"That's why we let him stay." Summer practically growled.

"OK, we are going to talk about that, too. Anyway," Myra directed to Nathan," what is it they can't tell me?"

"I'm not psychic, actually." Nathan refuted, arms crossed.

All three girls glowered at him.

"But you don't know that, apparently. Not that you'd care,” he muttered. The girls' glower deepened. Nathan sighed and continued. “Something about the vow has changed or intensified. Given that fae are involved, either someone is threatening another or...." His voice trailed off. "How old are you?" Nathan asked Myra.

Myra’s glower sharpened. "That's not something you ask a woman.... Seventeen."

"That's young, but not implausible." He mussed.

Nathan and Myra looked to Summer and Illa. Impassivity colored both of them.

"Young for what?" Myra demanded.

It seemed this they could answer.

"Puberty. It can be dangerous." Summer replied quickly as if forcing the words out.

"What?! Puberty? You have to be kidding. I've already gone through puberty and it is certainly not dangerous. Unless you count stupid boys." And if it was magic instead of hormones, a small voice said. Myra’s eyes met Nathan's. "Really? Some kind of magical, faery puberty?"

"Don't say faery." All three of them snapped.

Myra blanched. "Sorry, but really?"

"Yes, really. Puberty is not the word I would choose, but it's accurate enough. Magic becomes prevalent in fae around their twenties. As children, we can mingle with humans and use small magics to play tricks, but the stronger powers aren't there yet.

"The stronger the species, the longer it can take. Not to say that you're weak." Nathan added quickly, as if suddenly afraid of retaliation.

"It's a dangerous time because your magic is constantly fluctuating. At any moment you could have enough power to start a hurricane or not enough to incite a breeze. When you have the possibility of attack and you can't trust your magic, yes, that's dangerous. Until the period is over, you can't be sure to defend yourself. If someone might be attacked, they are hidden away or under constant guard. After it's over your magic stays at the stronger level."

"Why would someone want to attack me?"

"I don't know." Seeing Myra’s disbelief Nathan added. "Truly, I don't. Every fae is subject to attack. It's not always that obvious. Fae are stealthy about it. Some don't even know they're being attacked. A game of the mind as much as the body."

"Nathan," Illa snapped. "Shut up. All the worry is about something that might happen. It won't. You'll be just fine. I can tell you this. We are just more serious with your father. We have to be." She explained. "It's a formal thing, OK?"

Nathan glowered and continued. "Someone might want to attack you because you're a halfling. There are many who don't want human interaction with fae. You're more vulnerable now because of 'puberty'." Myra could practically hear the quotes.

She paused, staring at the floor. They were talking about this so calmly. Someone, according to them, might want to kill her because, of all cliche things, that she was half of something. That couldn't be all of it, though. There had to be other halflings out there than just her. She couldn't be that rare.

"Halflings aren't that rare, right?"

"No," Summer answered softly. "They're not."

"So, that can't be the only reason you're worried." Myra accused. "There's something else you're not telling me." She looked up and crossed her arms resolutely. She didn't care if they had been compelled. They could find a way to tell her. There was one word she caught on. Formal. Maybe it was just a 'respect your elders' thing, but she just couldn't get past the way Summer said it and the way her eyes grew blank when she did. Kind of like they did when someone wanted to conceal something.

Nathan caught Myra’s eye. An understanding passed between them.

"Age," he began, "itself doesn't demand respect. It's the power that goes with it. You said you were being formal when talking to her father. He's a lord, isn't he?" Nathan turned back to Myra. "That would explain why you are in danger. They don't want you ascending to a position of power. It makes-"

"But how would these people know I exist?! It sounds like someone shouted from the towers that I might threaten them. I just want to finish school and maybe even be in the Olympics for track some day. Unless they're going for gold, I don't threaten anyone."

"That is an excellent question. There is definitely more they aren't saying that I can't guess at." His time, for the first time, grew accusatory. "Compulsions aside, you could have told her something."

"We tried." Illa murmured, guiltily. "We tried to always stay together and keep you safe. We did tell you some things over the years and honestly, I can say 'puberty' is the reason you're in danger. Most other halflings have someone to look out for them.... Well, I say most. It isn't often that all halflings have any fae looking out for them." Her cheeks pinked. "I am sorry to say that some come into their powers, if any, unaware, but those who do have a guardian are usually told of their heritage. I am ashamed that I was disallowed the same courtesy and-” Illa's lips twitched several times. She balled her fists up and tensed her whole body as if straining against something massive. “Not by your father." The words were barely intelligible.

"My mother?" Blank stares again. "Of course. She had an exciting, grand adventure that ended badly, but gave her me and she didn't want me to repeat the same mistakes, so she made you promise to never tell me." Myra said in a sarcastic voice.

The others didn't move.

Myra sank into a chair. Even while her own words made sense and if all of this were true, fantastical as it may have sounded, she couldn't believe her mother would lie to her about something so huge. She knew everything about her life before dad and after. They’d sit up all night and talk about everything that ever happened or could happen. As much as she’d always wanted to know about him, Myra knew her mother still hurt whenever her dad was mentioned and Myra had tried to give her mom time to talk about it. Apparently, there was way more than Myra ever thought. At least her mom hadn't told her he was dead. Maybe somewhere in the talks she had tried to tell Myra the truth, but just couldn't.

Either way, the stab of betrayal was the same. Her mother had kept something vitally important from her. That she couldn't have known it would put Myra in more danger didn't seem to matter. Myra wanted to run for the trees and their stillness again. Everything made sense when they whispered to her. Her legs quivered with tension.

Both Illa and Summer came over to comfort their friend, Illa with a hand on Myra’s shoulder and Summer with her hand in Myra’s. Myra’s tears blurred their faces.

"I know her lie feels like betrayal, but she does love you and wants you safe. She doesn't know all of the details of fae culture and her ignorance makes her afraid. She just protected you the best way she knew how." Ila offered, her voice still soft.

"By leaving me blind?"

"By trying to keep you away from those who might hurt you altogether." Summer answered. "Granted knowledge is a good weapon, but she did her best. Don't hate her for it."

Myra didn't feel it, but she nodded in agreement. Standing, she swiped a hand over her eyes and half smiled. "I'm going to sleep. See you in the morning."

The girls muttered their 'goodnight's', faces still heavy with guilt.

"Shouldn't someone stay with you?" Nathan asked.

"The rooms are warded," Summer told him, "and we have surveillance. No one will get to you here, Myra. "

In her room as she undressed and laid down, Myra imagined the woods around her down to every detail. She named every tree and the use of their bark and leaves. Every fern, grass, vine, moss, rock. The animals who frolicked within them. But even her favorite place couldn’t relax her entirely. She drifted into a fitful sleep, her thoughts muddled and murky.

“Sabine, we have to go.” Ibrihim said, trying to nudge her forward.

“No, not yet, Ibrihim. I have to gather all of my research.” She grabbed another stack of papers and threw them into a backpack.

How out of place it looked surrounded by the fae encampment. Their tents stood close together in the grassy hills, their flaps almost touching. If anything happened to one of them, the others would know immediately. It was happening. A host of vampires had been seen over the next hill. They didn’t know about the encampment yet, but they would soon. Their trackers would be ahead of the main body, searching for any fae or resources they could spot. These days it seemed like there were always more vampires and always less fae. Even the wyldfae had decreased in number and the ones who were left hid in their caves, in the trees, under the water. They had to find a way to fight back otherwise the fae were finished.

“They will be here any minute.”

“You know we have a little bit before they show up.”

“And you know that we need that time to get away. We shouldn’t be here when they are.”

Ibrihim looked over the room. Piles of papers were stacked about the tent with barely enough room for the double bell roll that laid on the floor. Not that it was a large tent, but even so, there was no way that Sabine would be able to take all of the documents with her. She kept shoveling papers in the backpack anyway, but she didn’t just try to take everything. She sorted through the tops of the piles near her carefully, but quickly. All of their most recent research on the vampires.

He had to hand it to her. That was the most extensive. The rest of it was more supposition and chance encounters rather than direct contact and battle analysis. Over time, they had gotten to see more and more of who they were fighting.

“Alright, you have enough.” Ibrihim said. “Let’s go.”

“No, just a little more. I know these are dated, but they help shine some light on what we’ve seen in the past few days.”

Ibrihim grabbed her hand. “Come on. You don’t want to get caught.”

“I don’t want to have to keep doing this either.” Sabine pointedly ignored how the papers brushed against her pregnant stomach.

The movement of the fae around them stopped.

“The others are gone. We have to go.”

“Fine, let’s go.” Sabine said with a sigh of regret.

They pushed out of the tent to see the fae fleeing down the hill. Vampires were coming up behind them, some running in a low crouch. Their clothing was in scraps and tatters, their skin pale from living in the caves. Some of them sported bright red sunburns. Most rushed on past, chasing the fae down the next hill. Ibrihim and Sabine must have gone unnoticed as they stood in the middle of the tents. The two crouched down, hoping that the vampires would pass by and they would be able to sneak away.

Only a few more vampires were rushing past, but they slowed down, looking over the tents.

“Find anything they left,” one of them snarled. “We should take any resources they have. Gather up the tents and sort through the contents. Destroy anything we can’t use. They shouldn’t be able to come back for it.”

Two of them broke away and whirled on the tents while their commander ran ahead. They made for the closest tent.

Ibrihim and Sabine froze, holding their breath. From the vampire's vantage point, they didn't have a clear view of the fae and human hiding among the tents. Ibrihim motioned for Sabine to move closer to him. They were going to have to be quick. They would only get one shot at opening a gate, slip through it, and close it behind them before the vampires noticed what was happening. The gate would have to be small, but just big enough for them.

Ibrihim raised his hand and gathered his will.

Instead of going in the tent, the vampires ripped the canvas off the crude wooden support structure.

Ibrihim could see them clearly now. He thought of the first vampires he had seen. Those had been more like goblins only with a thirst for blood, like the monsters out of their fae tales. These wore lightweight clothing, simple brown shirts and pants, but there was something about their motions that made him wonder if they were vampires at all. His fae senses said yes, they were vampires, but his eyes told him they looked like no vampire he had ever seen. Gone was the feral nature, the ferocious face, the ridges over their foreheads. These vampires were more genteel, almost human, but with a certain elegance. They would have looked at home at a fae gathering were they not an enemy.

Tightly controlling his magic as best he could, Ibrihim let his wrist follow the pattern to open a gate. His eyes never left the vampires as they continued to sift through the abandoned belongings.

One of them looked up. Its eyes still burned with a furious light even though the other outward signs of ferocity were gone. It smiled a terrible smile and nudged its companion. The two vampires surged into a sprint.

Ibrihim and Sabine stepped through the gate. Even as they moved through it, Ibrihim began to close it. His mind was far away, trying to piece together what he had just seen with what he had learned before. His eyes met Sabine’s. She looked likewise thoughtful.

Sabine’s body suddenly tugged away from him. To his horror, Ibrihim saw the vampires coming through the gate. One of them had an arm around Sabine, pulling her to it.

It couldn’t be, Ibrihim thought. He had closed the gate in time.