Violet's Story

Chapter 7

Seven

“Angelica!” I blurt out.

“What?” Nate’s head snaps up.

“It’s here. Her name. This was her book.” I pass it to him, and a bookmark falls from between the pages. Retrieving it from the box of photos into which it fell, I see that it isn’t a bookmark after all, but a thin metal disc, tarnished with age. A symbol of a griffin with a serpent for a tail is engraved into its surface. Something stirs in my memory.

“What’s that?” Nate asks.

I shake my head, turning the disc over. The reverse of the same pattern is on the other side. “I don’t know, but it’s weird. I feel like I’ve seen this symbol before.”

Nate takes the disc. “Haven’t lots of people? I mean, it’s a griffin, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but griffins don’t usually have serpent tails. They have a lion’s body, which means they also have a lion’s tail. But this one has an actual serpent where the tail should be. And see the way the serpent curls up, making a circle around the griffin?” Nate nods. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this exact one before. On a textbook maybe. Like on the spine.”

“Your textbooks sound far more interesting than mine.”

I take the metal disc from him and turn it over and over in my hands. If this disc belonged to Angelica, then I can use it to find her. Nate is preoccupied, poring over the brittle pages of the book, so I close my eyes without saying anything to him. I run my fingers over the pattern and send my mind out, searching, probing, feeling for the person attached to this item.

Abruptly, I feel a rushing sensation. Something pulling at my mind, tugging irresistibly. I feel trapped. Smothered. Faces and colors swirl and flash, blinding me, dizzying me. I can’t get out.

Vi! Violet!

My eyes spring open. I see clothes hanging above me, and Nate’s anxious expression. “You just suddenly fell over,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“Um, I don’t know. That was weird.” I push myself up into a sitting position. The bottom of a coat brushes my shoulder. “Well, this disc thing definitely doesn’t belong to your mother.”

“Wait, you were trying to find her? And you didn’t tell me?”

I shrug. “You were busy looking at the book.”

“Vi!” He tries to remain angry, but curiosity clearly gets the better of him. “Okay, so who does it belong to?”

“Too many people.”

Nate frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I saw lots and lots of faces, so I’m assuming the disc has belonged to many different people over the years.”

Nate stares at me a moment before saying, “This ability of yours doesn’t work very well, does it? I mean, what if someone else owned this book before my mother?”

“Well, let’s hope she had it long enough to truly make it her own.”

“Is that how your ability works? How long would she have—”

“Shh!” I reach across the boxes and clamp my hand over his mouth. “I heard something,” I whisper.

I lower my hand, listening carefully. From the room below us comes a thump. My first thought is that Drake and Zell have come for Nate, but then I remember that Flint put protective spells around the house. Nate rises and goes to the door of the closet. I’ve just reached into the air and pulled out a knife when a voice calls, “Nate? I got your favorite for dinner.”

Nate dashes back to the pile we’ve left on the floor. “Jeez, what is she doing home already?” He grabs Angelica’s book, tucks it under his arm, and begins piling the boxes on top of each other. I discard my knife into the air and hastily send the boxes and files back to the top of the closet. I stuff the griffin disc in my pocket and run out of the room after Nate.

“Thanks, Mom,” he shouts down the stairs. “Looking forward to it.” Then he pushes me back into his room and shuts the door. “You should probably go,” he says to me.

“What, you don’t want me meeting your mom?” I tease.

“Well, uh, maybe not looking like that.” He drops Angelica’s book onto one of his couches.

I put my hands on my hips. “What’s wrong with the way I look?”

“Come on, Vi,” he says, keeping his voice low. “You just need to add your boots and you’re like the forest version of Lara Croft.”

“Excuse me? Lara who?”

“I mean, it’s really sexy and everything.” He pulls me closer and slips his arms around my waist. “But it’s not exactly the way I’d want you to meet my mom.”

“I can glamour myself in something pretty,” I suggest. I’m only joking though. I’m terrified at the thought of meeting his parents; it would be taking my betrayal of the Guild even further to reveal myself to another two humans.

“How about you glamour yourself in something pretty just for me?” Nate whispers, his lips at my neck. A shiver races up and down my arms. I don’t bother reminding him that he can’t see glamours.

A knock at the door causes him to jump away from me. “Uh, hang on,” he says to the door. “Just getting changed.” He turns back to me. Go, already, he mouths.

I can’t help giggling at how rattled he is. “You know she can’t see or hear me, right?”

“Yeah, but I can,” he whispers.

“Fine,” I say, pretending to pout. I fetch my stylus from Nate’s bed just as my pocket tingles against my skin. I squeeze my hand past the metal disc to reach my amber. It’s a message from Tora.

Hope you’re not sulking. Come over for dinner tonight.

“I have to go anyway,” I tell Nate, holding up the amber message as proof. I turn and scribble across his wall with my stylus. A doorway to the faerie paths materializes, but before I can step through, Nate grabs my arm. He spins me around and presses his mouth to mine. I melt against him, my eyes closing. The world disappears, and it’s just the two of us, my hands rising to caress his face, his fingers sliding down to the small of my back, pressing me closer to him. My head spins, sounds disappear, and I feel weightless.

Nate pulls away from me. “Now you can go,” he says with a wink, pushing me gently backward through the doorway.

Remarkably, I manage to direct the faerie paths back to my kitchen without getting lost in my own giddiness. My legs still feel a little bit like liquid, though, and I have to grab onto the table as I step into the kitchen. Filigree deigns to raise his head and look over before deciding to ignore me. I’m fine with that. I’d like to savor this floaty feeling without someone reminding me to feel guilty. I’m about to go upstairs and flop onto my bed when I remember the griffin disc in my pocket. Curiosity and floatiness battle it out in my head for a few moments before curiosity finally wins.

I cross the sitting room and enter the study that once belonged to my parents. Their books still line many of the shelves, but there’s a small section that belongs to me. In my memory, the griffin symbol is associated with studying, and the only things I’ve ever studied are Guild-prescribed textbooks.

I sit down on the floor in front of the shelf of books that belong to me. I search the spines. Nothing. I pull all the books from the shelf and flick through the pictures. Still nothing. By the time I have to leave for Tora’s house, I’m no closer to locating a griffin with a serpent tail.

With a sigh and a flick of my hand, I send the books back through the air. They slam into the bookshelf, jostling to find a space in line. Oops. Guess I overdid the magic a little.

The faerie paths deposit me directly outside Tora’s tree. I take a step closer, lean forward, and blow gently against the bark. Gold dust rises, revealing a door knocker. I slip my hand around it and knock three times. After only a moment, a portion of the tree ripples and disappears. Flint stands in the doorway.

“Have you been roped in as part of the cheering up committee?” I ask.

Tora’s blonde and green head appears over her brother’s shoulder. “I thought I’d need extra help pulling you from the depths of despair.” She looks me up and down. “But, surprisingly, you seem fine.”

I shrug as I step past them into the house. “I’m dealing with it.” And I am. By sneaking off to visit the human guy who got me suspended in the first place.

Raven, Flint’s wife, crosses the sitting room with a tray of ladyfair blossoms balanced in one hand. “Oh, oops, I forgot your dress,” I say to Raven as she hugs me with one arm. Her hair—magenta strands mingling with dark brown—smells like roses. Over her shoulder I see Tora rush back to the kitchen to deal with something that’s started emitting smoke.

“No problem,” Raven says. She sets the tray of spindly pink flowers down on a low table. “You should keep it. It’ll bring your collection of dresses to a grand total of one.”

“Thanks, Raven, but you know I don’t do dresses. Can you imagine me trying to fight in one?”

“I have complete faith in your abilities, Vi,” Raven says. Flint pulls her down onto the couch beside him, then grabs a fistful of blossoms from the tray. “You could probably wrap yourself in a curtain and still take down a whole horde of goblins.” She takes a blossom from Flint’s hand and adds, “You’re ranked top of your year, aren’t you?”

I sink down into the squishiest chair in the room. “Probably not anymore.” The thought causes something inside me to ache. My lifelong dream has slipped from my grasp. “Tora’s not allowed to tell me the rankings now that we’re so close to graduation. It’s meant to be a surprise at the ceremony.” I remove a blossom from the tray, bite off the end, and suck out the sweet nectar. It’s like honey, but with more of a citrus flavor.

“She should tell you anyway,” Flint says, dropping his empty blossoms back on the tray. “My mentor told me back when I was almost finished training, and you and Tora are practically family. It should be a crime for her to keep information like that from you.”

It’s true. We are like family. I lived with Tora for almost a year after my father died. I had no other relatives in Creepy Hollow, and Tora didn’t want me to be alone. It was strange at first, living with my mentor, but we’re so close in age she ended up feeling more like a bossy older sister.

Suddenly, I remember where I’ve seen the griffin symbol: in Tora’s library. The library I spent hours studying in while I lived here.

“Actually, Flint, it’s a crime for me to share information like that,” Tora says from the kitchen doorway. “Something your sleazy mentor knew.”

Flint looks like he’s about to protest at the word ‘sleazy,’ but I interrupt. “I’m just going to use the bathing room.”

They barely notice as I leave the room. I hurry to the library and close the door behind me. The walls are covered with books from floor to ceiling, but the one I’m looking for should be near the desk. A shelf I could have easily stared at when I should have been studying.

I scan the spines of the books—and there it is! The griffin with the serpent tail that curls up and forms a circle around the legendary creature. I pull it from the shelf, blowing a rainbow-colored cobweb off the top. The A to Z of Halflings Throughout History. It sounds almost like a children’s book. Sitting down at the desk, I flip the book open. The symbol must be mentioned inside if it’s important enough to be on the cover. I turn to the contents page. Yes! I silently thank the genius who laid this book out. The contents page has a list of names, in alphabetical order, and beside each name is a picture. I search for the griffin and find it beside the name Tharros Mizreth.

A chill runs through me. I know that name. Everyone does. But my fumbling fingers turn to the relevant page anyway.

Possibly the most dangerous of all halflings in the history of the fae, Tharros Mizreth possessed power unequaled by anyone both before and since his time. While many halflings are unable to control their magic, Tharros had complete command of his abilities from an early age. His greatest desire was for the fae realm to no longer be hidden, and his attempts to control parts of both the human and fae worlds resulted in the death of many.

He chose for himself the image of a griffin, traditionally a symbol of power and majesty, adding to it a serpent in the place of the griffin’s tail. While expert opinions differ as to the meaning of the serpent, the most popular interpretation involves the snake that Tharros conjured to kill his human father.

Tharros was born and raised in the fae realm in—