Emerson’s Story

Chapter 5

Five

Dash runs into his house to fetch the anti-nausea tonic, leaving me alone with his guardian colleague who makes it clear with her long sighs and deep frowns that she’s annoyed by this waste of time. The hole she opened in the ground closes up, and she stands there with her arms folded over her chest, staring past me.

Fortunately, Dash doesn’t take long to return. He hands me a small bottle made of brown glass. It’s suspiciously similar to the bottles Chelsea packages her herbal remedies in. I remove the lid and sniff the contents. “Jeez, Em, it isn’t poisonous,” Dash says. “Just drink it.”

I’m feeling horrible enough that I’m willing to risk the possibility of Dash playing a trick on me, so I tip the little bottle back over my mouth. The liquid doesn’t taste like anything, but I instantly begin to feel better.

“Great,” says the woman who’s been giving her face a good workout by switching between sickly sweet smiles for Dash and irritated frowns directed at me. “Can we get moving?”

“Yes. And let’s open an upright doorway instead of one on the ground,” Dash says. “It’ll be easier for Em to walk into and out the other side, considering she doesn’t have much experience with faerie paths.” He removes a pen and starts writing in the air. “If I could just … get it to …”

“Dash, this is a waste of—”

“Ah, there we go. Easy peasy.” He gives the woman a dazzling smile, but I’m distracted by the growing patch of darkness appearing in mid-air. It spreads rapidly until it’s roughly the size and shape of a door. It must be the same thing as the hole the woman opened in the ground. The same thing that appeared on the balcony earlier when Dash took me back home.

“Is that … some kind of teleportation hole?”

“Faerie paths,” Dash says, holding his hand out to me. “Although they’re not really paths at all. It’s this dark empty space that exists somewhere outside of our world and yours, and it can be accessed by opening magical doorways. All you have to do is think of your destination or say the name of the place you want to go to. So much easier than cars and planes.”

Easier, perhaps, but far more foreboding. Reluctantly, I take Dash’s hand and walk forward. On his other side, the woman happily loops her arm through his. I look over my shoulder as the edges of the doorway spread toward each other, closing the gap, and then we’re in complete and utter darkness. “Can people get stuck inside here?” I whisper as we walk forward, which is an odd thing to do when I can’t feel anything beneath my feet.

“No. I’ve never heard of anyone getting stuck. Although I think, if you know the right magic, you can stay here for longer than usual. I’ve heard of people hiding inside the faerie paths if they’re trying to get away from someone.”

“Stop thinking,” the woman mutters. “I’m trying to direct the paths, and they’re not going anywhere with all our thoughts tugging in different directions.”

I clamp my mouth shut and try to not think, but light appears up ahead before I’ve figured out if I’m doing it correctly. We walk forward into a small room, sparsely furnished with a mirror, a sideboard displaying painted plates, and a rug covering the wooden floorboards. I pull my hand free of Dash’s and step away from him. “This is your Guild?” I was expecting something bigger and more … magical.

“Nope. This an old house in a deserted area beside a tropical beach.”

I turn my withering gaze back to him. “Why is it always so hard to get a straight answer out of you?”

“He’s telling the truth,” the woman says, rushing to Dash’s defense. I notice she hasn’t bothered to introduce herself, so I decide not to bother either.

“The Guild can be a little intimidating,” Dash explains, wandering over to the sideboard. “It’s enormous and busy, with loads of people around at this time of day. Faeries, mainly, but other fae as well. Sometimes criminals are brought in, or stray magic escapes from the training section of the Guild. And the fact that you can’t see any of it from the outside, and then you walk through a grand entrance that transforms itself from a tree, and you’re greeted by all this sudden activity … well, it can be overwhelming at first.” He flips the plate over and examines the back before returning it to its stand. “So we take fae who are new to our world to this halfway house first.”

“Oh. Okay.” My brain catches hold of what is probably the least important piece of information I’ve heard all day. “So … if we really are near a beach, then the ocean must be close by?”

Dash gives me a quizzical look. “Not too far from here.”

The fact that I might get to see the ocean for the first time is far easier to focus on than anything else right now. I walk to the nearest window and look out, but all I see is a forest of palm trees.

“I need to get back,” the woman says as I try to peer between the trees. “No message on the plate?”

“Nothing yet,” Dash says.

“Well, she’ll be here soon, I’m sure. She sounded in a hurry when she sent me to fetch you. Anyway, I hope it doesn’t take too long to hand the girl over. I know your team has far more exciting stuff going on at the moment.”

I look around in time to see her brush her hand from Dash’s shoulder down to his elbow. With a half-smile, she turns away, and I resume my examination of the landscape outside, muttering, “Seriously?” under my breath. She doesn’t look that much older than us, but surely there are plenty of guys in this world who are both more age-appropriate and more mature than Dash.

“Thanks,” he says. Then: “Em, what are you looking for? Actually, never mind. That isn’t important.”

I give up on my search for the ocean and fold my arms as I walk back toward him. “Of course not. Nothing could possibly be as important as whatever it is you’re about to tell me, right?”

“Right,” he says, but the front door opens at that moment, and in walks a short blonde girl with orange stripes in her hair and fiery orange eyes to match.

“Oh, Dash, you’re here.” She gives him a bright smile.

“Uh, yes. I am. Why are you here?”

“Just checking you made it.” Her eyes slide to me. “Is this Emerson?”

Dash lets out a sigh. “Yes. Em, this is Jewel. She’s a member of my team at the Guild.”

Jewel? They have weird hair and eyes and weird names? “Hi,” I say uncertainly.

“Hey.” Jewel gives me a smile that’s way too friendly considering we just met. “Oh, hang on.” She slips her hand into one of her pockets and removes what I first assume to be a phone because of the shape, but turns out to be semi-transparent and orange-gold in color. She looks at the surface, and I do a double take as tiny gold words melt into view.

“Is that a Guild-wide memo?” Dash asks. “I think my amber just pinged as well.”

“Yes.” As Jewel peers more closely at the honey-colored rectangle, I notice dark swirling patterns tattooed on the inside of her wrists. “A Griffin attack on a small village near Twiggled Horn. Five dead.”

“Five dead from a Griffin attack? They don’t normally kill people.”

“Yeah, well, they’re dangerous outlaws, so what do you expect.” Jewel swipes her hand across the amber thing, and the words disappear.

“Griffin?” I ask. “Like the mythical creature?” Nothing would surprise me at this point.

“No,” Dash says. “Although yes, griffins do exist. But in this case we’re talking about people with extra magic. Abilities most normal fae don’t posses. Griffin Abilities. You’ll learn about them soon enough.” His expression darkens. “They’re pretty much a law unto themselves.”

Jewel rolls her eyes before giving me a sweet smile. “Dash doesn’t always explain things particularly well. These dangerous fae used to live out in the open, doing whatever they pleased, without anyone knowing they were different. But it’s hard to hide a Griffin Ability these days. Testing is mandatory. The Guild just wants to keep an eye on them—understandably—but they’re always going on about how they’re discriminated against. So in recent years, those who managed to get away from the Guild without being tagged have banded together. Formed some kind of secret organization. And now they take out their Guild-directed anger on innocent people just to get attention.”

“Unacceptable,” Dash mutters.

“Exactly. So you can understand why the Guild wants to keep a record of all Griffin Gifted, right? They need to be held accountable for their actions.”

She seems to be waiting for me to respond. I consider telling her I don’t give a crap about faerie outlaws and politics, but decide to change the subject instead. “What’s the orange rectangle thing?”

“Oh. This?” Jewel holds up the honey-colored device.

“Amber,” Dash says. “Faerie cell phone.”

Behind him, one of the plates on the sideboard emits an abrupt shriek. I let out an involuntary gasp and take a hurried step backward. “What the fu—”

“Seriously?” Dash says, interrupting me mid-curse. He picks up the plate and turns it over. “The situation really doesn’t warrant that kind of language, Em.”

I gape at him as my pattering heart rate returns slowly to normal. “You’re kidding, right? What’s the big deal with the no-swearing thing? I don’t see any little kids around, unless you’d like to count yourself in that category.”

“Very funny,” he deadpans, looking up from the plate. “And if you’d had your mouth cleaned out with soap spells as many times as I have, you’d understand my automatic response to bad language. Super unpleasant spell, that one. The taste hangs around for hours afterwards.”

I stare at him. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re joking.”

“Nope. My mother’s always been deadly serious about the no-swearing policy in our household. Anyway, the Councilor’s on her way. Message on the plate said she just left the Guild.”

“That was the sound of a message?”

“It isn’t supposed to shriek like that,” Jewel says. “I think the notification spell is faulty.”

The front door swings open, revealing a smartly dressed woman. “Oh, wonderful, you’re here. I didn’t have time to check with surveillance. Shall we go through to the sitting room?” Without waiting for an answer, she strides past us and opens the door beside the sideboard.

“Councilor Waterfield,” Dash whispers as he takes my arm and steers me around toward the door.

I expected her to be older, being a member of this special faerie Council or whatever it is, but she probably hasn’t hit thirty yet. I’m also starting to wonder if this world consists of any men, or if it’s just Dash and all the females that fawn over him. I pull my arm free of his grip, muttering that I’m perfectly capable of walking into the next room without assistance.

The sitting room is pretty, with antique furniture and a large bay window on one side. I think I might be able to see something beige in color through the trees that could be a strip of sand, but Councilor Waterfield invites me to sit before I can take a closer look out the window. I choose one of the single armchairs so I don’t have to sit right next to Dash or the Councilor. She sits with her back to the window, and Dash takes the armchair beside mine. I clasp my hands tightly together in my lap, feeling suddenly nervous.

“Emerson,” the woman says. “I’m Councilor Waterfield. First of all, welcome to the magical realm. I trust Dash has explained the basics to you?”

“I have,” Dash says before I can answer. “Only the very basics, though. She has a lot more to learn.” He flashes a grin in my direction, which I wish I could scratch right off. He’s enjoying this way too much.

“So, Emerson.” The Councilor opens a bag at her feet and pulls out a larger version of the amber thing Jewel was using. Before she tilts it upward to face her, I see gold lettering appear across its surface. “We’ve been tracking you for the last … five years? Is that correct?” She looks up from her magical device.

“Yes,” Dash answers once more. “Em was twelve when we began tracking her.”

“So that makes you seventeen now.”

“If math is the same in this world as it is in mine,” I say, “then yes.”

Her smile tightens somewhat. “Numbers are numbers, Emerson, no matter which side of the veil you happen to be on. And this side is your side. You’ll need to start referring to it as such.”

“Of course,” I say, when all I want to do is scream that I only just found out about the existence of this side, so give me a damn break!

Councilor Waterfield leans back, making herself more comfortable. “In case Dash didn’t tell you, I’m the Guild representative for Chevalier House, which is where you’ll be staying for a while. It’s a school for people like you. People who’ve been brought up with humans and might have had access to their magic but haven’t had anyone to teach them how to use it, or perhaps their magic has only just appeared, and because of some mishap or other, we’ve now become aware of their existence.”

“What makes it suddenly appear?” I ask. “Why was my magic inaccessible before? Or—why did it come and go? Dash said it was kind of … faulty.”

She purses her lips before answering. “To be honest, I don’t know. If you were a halfling, it would make more sense. Their magic is highly unpredictable and can sometimes present itself later in life. But faeries … Well, I don’t know. I suppose it happens every now and then.”

“Wonderful. So I’m a freak even by this world’s standards.”

“You’re not a freak, Emerson. After you’ve spent some time at Chevalier House, you’ll be able to fit in with the rest of our world just fine.”

“So basically you’re sending me to magical etiquette school?”

She breathes out through her nose. I think her patience is beginning to wear thin. “It’s far more than that. They’ll teach you about your magic, about our world. They’ll assist with the logistics of merging your old life with your new one. Whether you should return home or stay here, what story your family will believe while you’re away, what you should tell your family if you decide to return home. Things like that.”

I cross my arms tightly against my chest. “You should probably know that you needn’t bother coming up with a story for my aunt. She’ll assume I’ve run away, she’ll be glad, and that’ll be the end of it.”

Councilor Waterfield looks down at her device, pausing for a moment as she reads something. “It appears that’s the story she was given, actually. A guardian glamoured as a policeman has informed your aunt that you ran away. He told her that a security camera caught you getting onto a bus. Police attempted to find you on the other side, but you somehow slipped away without being noticed. They’re still on the lookout for you. Your friends have been told the same story.”

“But that’s a lie.” I sit forward. “I don’t want my friends thinking I ran away.”

“Well, Emerson, I’m afraid you don’t really have a choice. Once you’ve spent some time at Chevalier House and can safely return to the human world, you can come up with a good excuse for why you ran away. We can have one of our guardians glamoured as a policeman say he or she tracked you down, if that story works for you. I’m sure you can make your friends understand.”

I slump back in my chair. This woman doesn’t understand, and neither will Val. She’ll see right through me if I try to lie.

“Now, as I was saying,” Councilor Waterfield continues, examining her device again. “All footage of last night’s earthquake incident has been located and destroyed so that no one knows you were connected, and memories have been altered. An expensive cover-up—not all magic is free or cheap, you know—but we can’t have humans running around spreading stories about what you did. And if you do decide to return to your old life, you can do so safely without anyone knowing what happened.”

“So … so that’s it? I have to go to this school for a little bit, and then I can return to my world?”

“Yes.” She slides her amber device back into her bag. “Dash will take you there now.”

“Um, who pays for this school?” I ask, angling my body away from Dash as I ask. Pointless, since he can still hear me, but I’d rather not see his expression if I have to admit to Councilor Waterfield that I have absolutely no money.

“It’s funded by the Guild,” she says. “The program is considered part of security. It’s dangerous having fae running around with magic they can’t control. Far better to have you educated so you can safely re-enter society, on this side of the veil or the other side. Now.” She stands and picks up her bag. “Someone will arrive here shortly to run a few tests on you before you leave for Chevalier House.”

“Tests?” I shrink back against the cushions. “What tests?”

“Oh, nothing scary. Just standard procedure. To test for Griffin Abilities, magic levels, that sort of thing.”

“I don’t want any tests. Don’t I have the right to refuse things like—”

“Perhaps,” Dash says as he stands, “we could do the tests in a few days after Em has settled into Chevalier House. She’s been through a lot already. And with her … history. Her mother …” He lowers his voice, as if whispering that one word—mother—instead of speaking it out loud means it won’t bring up all the shock, confusion and hurt I felt earlier. I stamp down the pain as Dash continues. “I assume you remember everything from my previous reports, Councilor, so you’ll understand that the concept of ‘running tests’ has negative connotations to her.” He places his hands respectfully behind his back. As his sleeves pull up slightly, I notice the same tattoo on his wrists that I saw on Jewel’s arms.

Councilor Waterfield clicks her tongue. “Fine. I’ll send someone to Chevalier House at the end of the week to do the tests there.”

That doesn’t sound much better, but hopefully I’ll be out of Chevalier House by then. We leave the sitting room and find Jewel still hanging around near the front door. She looks up from her amber, her eyes wide. “Big news,” she says. “Like, huge. Someone’s made a breakthrough with a spell for the veil. The Guild thinks they’ll finally be able to seal the tear over Velazar Island. There’s a meeting in twenty minutes so they can tell us more about it.”

“Correct,” Councilor Waterfield says, hurrying past Jewel. “That’s why I was late getting here. We received the news just this morning. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back before the meeting begins.” She holds a pen up to the front door, and after a few scribbled words, a dark opening appears. Even though I expected it this time, it’s still horribly unnatural so see a hole of nothingness taking shape and then disappearing after swallowing a person.

“This is so exciting,” Jewel says once the Councilor is gone. “Are you coming?”

Dash shakes his head. “I’m escorting Em to Chevalier House now.”

“Oh, but this is important. Bring her with, and you can take her to Chevalier afterwards.”

“No need,” Dash says with an easy smile. “I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it later. And I doubt Em wants to sit through a Guild meeting after everything she’s been through in the last few hours.”

Jewel’s smile slips for just a second, before stretching wide once again. “You’re always so thoughtful, Dash. Going the extra mile with your assignments.” She leans in and gives him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you later.”

I wait until she’s gone before saying, “I see you don’t mind pissing off your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? Jewel?” He laughs. “We’re just friends. Wait, why did you say she’s angry? She wasn’t angry.”

I slowly shake my head. “You’re such an idiot.”

He grins. “For once, dear Emerson, you are almost right. I was almost an i***t earlier.” His gaze moves past me and up, scanning the ceiling briefly. “Fortunately, I was saved just in time.”

I can’t help glancing up as well, but I see nothing except a few cobwebs and a spider. Apparently those aren’t unique to the human world.

At the sound of the front door opening, I look past Dash. On the doorstep stands a man with pointed ears and spiked black hair. This is normal now, I remind myself as my eyes refuse to move from those abnormally tapered ears. Totally normal.

“Emerson?” he enquires. I nod. “The professor is expecting you.”