Chapter 12
twelve
“You were exhausted last night.”
Silas stroked my hair as we lay together in the early hours of the morning. I’d gotten home after midnight, and I’d woken before it was light. My eyes cracked open, every muscle protesting the movement.
“I was dead on my feet,” I groaned. “I had to work with all three elements yesterday. Seer Goddard is convinced I’m a Triune Queen.”
“Are you?”
I rolled over, looked into his eyes. “I barely know what that means. But I trust his judgment, so I think it’s possible?”
“Have you connected to all the elements?”
“A little.”
“I’d say it’s very likely you’re a Triune Queen, Alessia.”
“Have you heard of The Glade?”
“Only rumors. Nothing that can help you, I’m afraid.
” Silas hesitated. “I did learn yesterday that the Rangers are making some progress in determining who genetically altered the crimson lycanthrope and the kraken. They’re not sharing specific names yet, but there’s a short list of people who have the skills to do something so magically complex. ”
“You’re sure they’re here?” I asked. “In our realm? Couldn’t it be someone out of the underworld?”
“It’s very likely someone in our realm, if not on the island already. While the Darkest Lord operates from the underworld, to alter creatures in our realm, he would need physical agents here. If we can locate the person or people who are doing the work, we’re one step closer to reaching him.”
“What about the fisherman’s boat? The Triskelion Sigil?”
“No news yet.”
I wrapped my arms around Silas’s neck. His fingers worked gently at the knots in my back.
“Mmm.” I sighed at his touch. “I miss this. Downtime. It feels like I should be more relaxed, seeing as I’m basically sitting around all day, but I’ve never felt more exhausted. This moment is nice.”
“We have ten minutes till dawn,” he said. “I can think of ways to use that time to help you unwind.”
“I like the sound of that,” I said, curling against him, “but I am not going to forget where we left off with this backrub later tonight.”
Seer Goddard wasn’t outside when I reached the hut, so I sat in the circle of stones and waited for his arrival. I slung my backpack onto the ground next to me and removed the textbook so it sat on top of it.
By the time Seer Goddard arrived, I already had all three elements spinning in a neat sphere in midair. I opened my hand, dropped the rock into my palm, let the water splash over it, and released the air.
“The Glade is accessed in your mind,” Seer Goddard said without preamble. “I don’t know if there’s a physical aspect. No one in our lifetimes has been there. You must unlock it alone, and it begins with the three elements.”
“Can you be more specific? How do I use the elements to access it?”
“By utilizing the manuscript I asked you to bring. There’s a spell that will guide you.”
I pulled the book onto my lap and opened it. “Which page?”
“I can’t read it. You tell me.”
I opened the book, thumbing through the spells. Honestly, I didn’t even know what I was looking for. Which was basically the theme of my training so far.
“When I found the spell during the full moon ceremony, I didn’t know what I was looking for,” I said. “It was revealed to me when the moon shined on it. I didn’t do anything to figure it out.”
“It wasn’t revealed magically,” Seer Goddard countered gently. “It wasn’t a poof of good luck.”
“It sure felt like a poof of good luck,” I said. “If it wasn’t random luck and magic, then what do you think it was that happened?”
“Your ancestors guided you. Do you really think you suddenly understood how to speak and read ancient Fae texts out of the blue?”
I paused, realizing I had indeed thought exactly that. Spells and curses hadn’t been familiar to me several months ago, so suddenly understanding an ancient language out of the blue didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility. Still, I listened as Seer Goddard continued.
“Your ancestors succeeded in revealing the meaning to you. They shared their senses, their sight, their knowledge. There’s a connection between you and your past through these written texts.”
“So, I’ll know it when I see it?”
Seer Goddard pursed his lips. “You tell me.”
I resumed flipping through the pages, once, twice. My stomach began growling with frustration as usual. Eventually, I closed the book and leaned back, letting the sunlight warm my face.
The frustration mounted—I didn’t know what to do. The first time had seemed so effortless, bathed in moonlight. Poof—magic! No matter what Seer Goddard said, magic had definitely played a role in revealing the first spell to me, the spell that had revealed the island’s ley lines.
“Use your connection to your ancestors,” Seer Goddard urged. “You’re the Triune Queen. You deserve your place among the Fae Queens.”
I considered his words. My magic seemed trivial—I could balance a small rock midair and spin a little breeze and water particles around it. It wasn’t the sort of impressive magic that could defeat a kraken or tear apart a crimson lycanthrope.
But maybe I didn’t need to tear apart a crimson lycanthrope. Maybe, in this case, something more subtle was the key. Perhaps I should embrace the magic that came naturally to me and my ancestors and combine it with the manuscript, in the way that moonlight had combined with it the first time.
With newfound resolve, I turned to a page that had persistently drawn my attention but remained unreadable.
Setting the book in my lap, I closed my eyes and drew on yesterday’s success.
Selecting a rock, I lifted it gently. Then I gathered bits of dew into a small orb and wrapped it around the stone.
Carefully, I encircled that combination with air, creating the elemental trifecta unique to the Triune Queens' skills.
I let it hover, holding my breath, afraid to open my eyes and break the spell. But eventually, curiosity and fatigue won. When I looked down, I could finally read the page clearly, just as I had during the full moon ceremony. My intuition had been correct; the page held a spell to enter The Glade.
I whispered the spell, the ancient words on the page, so soft I doubted even the Seer could hear me. As the words coursed over my lips, the spinning orb of elements seemed to falter. Seconds later, I realized it wasn’t falling, but gently lowering toward the manuscript.
As water splashed onto the page, the parchment melted away to reveal an image. A rich image of creeping greenery around the edges of the page, a pool of deep blue water in the center, so real it seemed like I could fall into it head first. My fingers reached toward it, and I knew it was real.
Too late, I knew I had accessed The Glade. The moment my fingers touched the water, a familiar tugging sensation gripped my chest, and in a heartbeat, I was gone. The world around me fell away, and Seer Goddard was but a distant memory.
When I opened my eyes, I stood in a cave.
A light hum sounded around me, a vibration that filled my bones and welcomed me to this new realm.
The longer I stood there in the darkness, the more I realized that it wasn’t a vibration, per se, but a melody.
The melody of a song so familiar it brought me straight back to my childhood.
The song was a gentle lullaby, both soothing and heartbreaking in its sweetness.
I’d never heard it anywhere except inside of my head; it would play on repeat on the loneliest nights of my childhood.
Almost as if someone, somewhere, had wanted to comfort me.
The words that accompanied the notes had been in a different language, one I’d never been able to decipher.
I’d tried to look up the song many, many times, but without knowing the notes or the words or even the original language, it had been an impossible task.
At some point, I’d given up, writing it off as one of those strange childhood memories that might not be anything more than a figment of my imagination, like an invisible friend or a strange dream.
But now I knew the truth. Someone had gifted me that lullaby then, someone who was here in The Glade now, someone who had wanted to comfort me.
To give me a sign that I wasn’t alone. Someone who had wanted to give me the promise of more during the lowest moments when I’d felt completely and utterly unlovable.
This song had been a promise of better things to come.
I shivered with the affirming realization that I hadn’t made this song up.
As I listened harder, however, the tune faded slowly away, leaving behind a silence that wasn’t actually silence.
The stillness of the cave was punctuated by the drip, drip of water sliding rhythmically down the smooth walls.
I took stock of my surroundings, feeling shockingly unafraid to be here.
This wasn’t the sort of cave that was claustrophobic and forbidding.
It was lush, vibrant like a jungle, a thriving ecosystem where vines climbed gracefully along the walls, framing a crystalline pool at the center.
The gentle babbling of a stream echoed softly around me as water flowed in and out of invisible crevices in the cave’s walls.
I noted quickly that I was alone, yet instead of feeling lonely, the cave felt comforting.
The air was pure, untouched—cleaner even than the island’s fresh breezes, far removed from the pollution of New York.
I felt secure, safe. This place didn’t quite feel like home, but it certainly didn’t feel foreign either.
I took in my surroundings, wondering if this cave was part of the earth’s core or located in outer space. I had no idea, except that I’d most likely fallen through a portal into it. I paused, letting my eyes adjust, letting my body sink into its new surroundings.