The Wand & the Sea Read online

  She stood at the foot of a rocky mountain, which had somehow not been visible before. It rose straight up, but there were plenty of handholds and a clear path. She started to climb.

  The wind stilled. The incline was steep, sometimes obliging her to crawl on all fours. The wind had carved juttings of sparkling granite into the slope and polished them like a rock tumbler. After about ten minutes Holly reached the broad peak. But it was not at all what she’d expected.

  She had arrived on a plateau that stretched for miles. She stepped onto a carpet of deep green grass. Riots of flowers spread at her feet—corn cockles and oxeye daisies and buttercups and red campion. She waded through them until she reached a semicircle of hazel trees clustered around a well.

  Its blocks of roughly hewn limestone formed a low arched wall affixed to a dry basin. A carved dolphin leaped over the top of it. Holly ran her fingers along the wall’s sharp edges and peered into the basin drain. How deep did it go? Feeling around in the dirt for a pebble, she found instead a brass coin. Etched onto its face was a tiny profile of a lady with long hair and a pensive expression. Holly wanted to keep it, but before she could stop herself, she tossed the coin into the basin and listened. Several seconds later, a soft plop echoed from the bottom.

  At once a stream of water gurgled out of the stone dolphin’s mouth. Holly skipped back as it overflowed the well basin. In a moment it had become a brook that cascaded over the mountainside.

  A dragonfly flitted above the well, then settled on its dusty edge. “My, what a nice job you’ve done!” it said brightly, and then with a loud pop, it changed into a hare and hopped off the basin’s rim.

  Holly’s mouth fell open. “I know you,” she said. “The changeling! Do you remember me? Holly—I met you last year.”

  The hare looked up at her and chewed a few blades of grass. “Oh, I remember! Of course I do. The Adept. You nearly got us all killed.” Despite the accusation, the changeling sounded quite cheerful.

  “I’m . . . yeah. Sorry about that.”

  “No worries.” The hare sat up on its considerable haunches and cocked one shiny brown eye at her. “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine. I turned into a beetle and scurried out of the way when things got dodgy.”

  Holly had a sudden vision of the mayhem on that day—the tournament pitch erupting in dust and smoke, Ranulf and the other centaurs besieging the king’s knights, the Dvergar falling . . .

  “But where did you go?” Holly asked. “Almaric has been looking for you. Everyone’s so scattered, the Dvergar, Fleetwing, the Mounted—”

  “Can you blame us?” The hare nibbled on a clump of clover. “It’s all very well for you, to anger the king and send the Sorcerer into a rage, and then nip off to some other world. I went back to my colony, told them it all looked a bit pointless. How were we to know you’d come back?”

  “I didn’t know you had a colony.”

  “Hmph.” The hare sniffed, then morphed into a bobcat, which turned its back to her. “Not that you asked, either.”

  A gnawing guilt rose in Holly’s stomach. “I really am sorry. But I came back to help. We’re sailing to find the Island of the Adepts—Almaric and Ranulf and Jade, and Ben and Everett and me. When we bring them back, we’ll have a real chance of defeating Raethius.”

  The bobcat stalked toward her. Its shoulders rolled under its skin. A flicker of fear passed through Holly’s belly, but the bobcat settled nearby. “What makes you think you can bring them back?”

  “Well, I . . . because I’m one too. I can navigate the ship and all. . . . I saw them here, on this island. I know the king exiled them, but—”

  “But you know nothing.” The bobcat bared its teeth. “They can’t be found. They aren’t lost.”

  Holly’s heart sputtered. “What . . . what do you mean? Sure they are. The king sent them away.”

  “Don’t speak of things you are ignorant of. I was there.” The bobcat shrank before her eyes and sprouted wings, becoming a sparrow. “The night of the massacre, I was in the trees. I saw it all. The knights stole over the cliffs into the initiates’ caves. They rode the silent steeds, rendering themselves invisible, undetectable. Even the guardians couldn’t see them. They took the children first, before their teachers even woke.” The sparrow bowed its head, then with a crackle, it became a skunk. “Sorry. I can’t always control it.”

  Holly reached out a tentative hand and stroked the silky black fur. “And . . . what happened then?”

  “What do you think? A slaughter.”

  “But . . . they weren’t all killed?”

  “No. They had plans ready. Some were left to hold the knights at bay while the rest sailed into the night. No one’s heard of them since. Well, almost no one.”

  The skunk snuffled in the dirt. Holly thought it might be crying. Then it shuddered along its white-striped spine and turned into a red-tailed hawk.

  “Almost no one? Do you know where they went?”

  “I followed them,” said the changeling. “I hid on the boats as a ladybug, then swam alongside as a porpoise. But they discovered me once we reached the island. They could have killed me, but instead they sent me back to spread the king’s tale, that they’d been bested by his knights and exiled by his decree. But they weren’t exiled, Lady. They escaped.” The hawk cocked an eye at her. “Unless they’re ready to return, until they want to be found, you’ll never locate them. They have abandoned this land for good.”

  “That can’t be right,” Holly said. “Don’t they want to see Raethius defeated?”

  “Of course. But they left in the first place because things looked so hopeless. The Good Folk retreated to their Realm; the Mounted battled in the forest; the beasts squabbled among themselves. Without a united force, the Adepts could see which way the tide had turned.”

  “So that’s it, then?” A swell of anger bubbled up in Holly’s chest. Why had she bothered coming to Anglielle at all? Everyone cowered in their corners while Raethius eliminated them one by one. “The Adepts are just fine with Raethius terrorizing the whole kingdom? What kind of heroes are they?”

  “They’re not heroes,” the changeling said. Its feathers smoothed into fur, and it became the hare again. “They never have been. When they lived in Anglielle, they kept to themselves and studied their magic. Why do you think the magicfolk were so happy to see you? You were different—an Adept who rallied them, who wanted to harness magic to defeat the king. Or at least, to rescue your brother.”

  Holly gazed at the bubbling well. “What if things were different? If I was able to rally everyone, bring them together? Do you think the Adepts would come back?”

  “It’s possible.” The hare nibbled a daisy, then gave her a sidelong look. “I can’t say for certain.”

  The wildflowers waved in the breeze. Beyond them, below the plateau, Holly recalled the dead meadow and the girl she had seen. “I did see them—or one of them—on this island. Were they here?”

  “They move constantly. But yes. They were here, only days ago.”

  Holly looked at him very hard for a moment. “You’re in contact with them. You know where they are right now, don’t you?”

  “Don’t be silly. Of course not. They cover their tracks very well, but . . .” The hare hesitated, and scratched a flea.

  “But what?”

  “They do leave traces. Can’t you sense that magic has been done here? Can’t you smell it?”

  It was what she had been sensing ever since their landing, Holly realized. Magic had been done here, and then the place was abandoned. That was the loneliness she felt. If only the Sea Witch had been quicker. They had come so close. . . .

  “This well is a sacred place,” the hare went on. “Do you recognize it, Lady Adept?”

  Of course she didn’t. She didn’t know much of anything about this world.

  “It’s a shrine to Coventina, the water goddess.” The hare sat up on its hind legs, leaped into the basin of water, and transformed into a golden car
p. Its head poked out of the water. “Coventina never comes to land, but she does grant boons. That’s why the Adepts came here—to alter the time stones.”

  “Time stones?”

  The carp leaped from the water, grew legs, and became a golden frog. It splayed its sticky fingers over the stone wall behind the basin. “Raise your wand; you’ll see them.”

  Holly did as the changeling asked, and then she did see them—three small, hazelnut-shaped stones embedded in the wall above the basin. “What are they for?”

  “Oooh, they’re quite powerful. They grant the owner magic to tear the veil of time.”

  Tear the veil of time. “Can I use them, changeling?” Holly asked, breathless.

  The frog bobbed his head. “Only an Adept can extract them from the well. And only for a price.”

  “What is it?”

  “It is steep,” the frog cautioned.

  “Yes, okay, but what is it?” How bad could it be? Holly thought. Anything would be worth mastering time. She could travel to the past, change things if she wanted. . . .

  “As I understand it,” the frog said carefully, “you must give three days of your life as payment—one for each stone.”

  “That’s all?” But that was easy. Three days was nothing.

  “I don’t think you quite understand. You don’t choose the days. The stones choose them. The day taken from your past, for instance, might be a very happy one. Or a day you learnt something important.”

  “Or the day I got the wand,” Holly murmured, gazing down at it.

  “No, you’re lucky there,” said the changeling. “The stone cannot take a day that has direct impact on your coming to this point. But still, you don’t know what it will take—”

  “I don’t care,” Holly broke in. “How do I do it?”

  “Lady Holly, think of what you’re giving up. The days, once given, can never be retrieved,” the frog said anxiously.

  Holly raised her wand. The frog skittered out of the way with a squeaky croak. She touched the wand to the stones and closed her eyes. “I agree,” she said. The wand trembled. “I agree to give three days of my life to retrieve the time stones.”

  The wand jerked in her hand toward the well, and Holly’s eyes flew open. The stones fell into the basin with a plinking sound, and she scooped them into her palm. But the wall looked unchanged.

  “Did it work?” she asked the frog. “They’re still embedded in the stone.”

  “Any Adept may claim a set of time stones,” said the frog. A tear fell from one of his bulbous eyes. “Do you know which day has been lost, Lady?”

  A day from her past. Holly thought back. How would she know if it was gone? At once a wave of panic rushed through her, causing Áedán to sit up in alarm. What if she’d erased the day of Ben’s birth? She scanned her memories. No, she remembered Ben. Her mother and father were both fine too. But . . .

  Something was missing. A small wound, a tear, opened in her heart. Something had been taken. Tears welled behind her eyes; but how could she cry for what she couldn’t miss? What was it? What had she lost?

  “Oh,” she said softly. She turned to the changeling.

  But it had disappeared. She sank onto the grass, lost in thought, heartbroken.

  Wondering.

  Chapter 37

  * * *

  The Time Stones

  Holly was startled to see that it was getting dark by the time she and Áedán made their way back down the mountain. The stream from Coventina’s well had turned the island lush and green. She wasn’t surprised that the others had returned to the beach. She found them gathered around a campfire, conferring with Almaric.

  They all crowded around her in great relief. Ben gave her a big hug, and Everett tried to explain that they never would have left her there, they were just trying to regroup.

  “I’m all right,” Holly said, pulling the stones out of her pocket. “I found these. And I saw the changeling.”

  Holly sat down at the fire with the others and told them what had happened, and what the changeling had said about the Adepts. “We conjured the Sea Witch for nothing. There’s no way we can sail to the Adepts’ island.”

  The circle was quiet for a long moment after she finished. “Maybe it’s a trick,” Everett said finally. “Can we trust this changeling? Maybe it doesn’t want us to find the Adepts for some reason.”

  Ben nodded, but Almaric and Ranulf shook their heads. “There have been similar rumors for years,” said the magician. “And the changelings have always been loyal to the Exiles.” He paused, thinking. “Let me see the stones,” said Almaric. “Jade, are they genuine?”

  The cat stepped forward and sniffed them in Almaric’s palm. “They are. Therein lies the key, to be sure.”

  “The key to what?” Ben asked.

  Almaric held the three stones close to the firelight. “The changeling was correct. Time stones are quite powerful, and rare. The fluorite—that’s the blue one, Lady Holly—represents the past. The obsidian, the black stone, is the future. But look at the crystal. It rules the present. Usually, it is clear, but see how this one is cloudy? I believe that’s what the changeling meant when it said the Adepts altered the stones. They have clouded the crystal to hide themselves. When it clears, the Adepts will be ready to come home.”

  “But, Almaric, how do they work? What can I learn from them?”

  The old man smiled at her, his blue eyes sparkling. “A great deal, Lady Holly.”

  While Morgan’s crew elected to sleep on board the Sea Witch, Holly and the other passengers camped on the beach. The next morning the captain sent Cook and Darcie along the beach to gather crabs and fish, and Quinn and Innes hiked off in another direction to hunt game and fill the water casks. Kailani and Rowan took charge of making repairs to the bowsprit and the sails.

  In the meantime Almaric took Holly over the dunes, out of the way of the others. The dead burned trees had turned into a lush jungle that crowded close to the sand. She sat down in a clearing with Almaric and Jade, and took the three stones from her pocket. Áedán crawled out from under her collar and perched on her shoulder to watch.

  “So what exactly do time stones do, Almaric?” she asked. “Can I actually travel in time?” It was something she had always wanted to do, particularly during her math fundamentals class.

  “Not exactly. The stones are used to call people to you—they become the time travelers.”

  “Oh.” Well, that was still pretty interesting.

  “Each stone calls people from a different time,” Almaric went on. “With the fluorite”—Almaric held up the slate-blue stone—“you will be able to call on those from the past to come to you. But beware: They cannot come to your aid if you are in any danger. If the stone perceives danger, it cannot work, because the traveler might be killed and vanish from his own past, which could alter the caller’s future.”

  “Like if my great-grandfather got killed,” Holly suggested. “Then I wouldn’t even be alive to call him in the first place.”

  “Just so.”

  “But what if I called my great-grandfather just when he was about to meet his wife? I could still change his history, right?”

  “I believe not,” Jade put in. “I have seen these stones work before. The traveler moves outside of his own time. It is as if the events of his time are frozen until he returns.”

  “So no one even knows he’s gone,” said Holly.

  “Correct.”

  Holly’s mind spun with the possibilities. She could talk to anyone—Lewis and Clark, or President Lincoln, or—

  “Or the Adepts. I can call them!”

  Almaric smiled. “Exactly.”

  “But what about the other stones?” Holly asked.

  Almaric picked up the crystal. “The crystal, as I said, represents the present. This stone calls people from your own time across distances. But it affords no protection to the traveler like the fluorite.”

  “So that means I can use the black one
to call people from the future,” Holly guessed.

  “I would presume so,” Almaric said. He held the stone up to his eye, but not even the sunlight reflected off its surface. “I have never seen the obsidian used. You will not need it, in any case.” He laid it next to the others and looked at her kindly. “What did you sacrifice, Lady Holly?”

  She blushed, as if she’d committed a crime. “Three days, Almaric. I hope it wasn’t the wrong thing to do. I don’t know which day in the past I gave up, but I feel like part of me is missing now.” She felt a ridiculous urge to cry again.

  The magician was quiet, and Jade stole up next to her, warming her skin. “A day in your present will disappear as well,” he said. “You will not see it coming, but at some moment it will disappear in front of you.”

  Holly sniffed. “What about the future?”

  “That too has already vanished,” said Almaric. “You will someday realize what has been lost. It is potential. I hope the loss will not be severe.”

  She had been reckless. She’d wanted the time stones so badly, she hadn’t thought of what the price could mean.

  “All novices make mistakes,” said Jade softly.

  “Yes,” said Almaric, and then more brightly, “but we press on. The good news is, you have a way to further your training now. I suggest you make use of it.”

  Holly sat back and crossed her legs. So the Adepts could help her, could teach her magic, if she were able to call them. What would she say to them? What would they think of her, she who couldn’t even fight off a few knights? Her cheeks burned as she remembered the scene with Grandor and the others.

  She took out her wand.

  Áedán tensed on her shoulder.

  “You won’t need the wand, Lady Holly,” said Almaric. “Just as with your work with the captain’s compass. You need only the stones.”

  “But who do I call, Almaric? I don’t know anyone’s name.”

  “Try a general call. Something like, ‘Adepts of the past, I call for your wisdom and teaching.’ Whoever is open to mentoring a novice will be receptive to the call.”