“I said GO!”
“You command me no longer, father,” she said.
“Emerald!” Phinnegan heard a familiar voice cry. He struggled to incline his head and saw Periwinkle struggling against the force that bound him.
“You bastard!” the purple-haired Faë spat at Vermillion. “What did you do to her?”
With an angry snarl, Vermillion back-handed Periwinkle.
“Shut up!”
What happened next appeared to Phinnegan to happen in slow motion. He saw the scarlet-haired tyrant thrust an arm towards Emerald. From his finger-tips, Phinnegan could detect some sort of distortion. The air appeared to thicken and swarm upon itself, a translucent weave of air.
Phinnegan did not know how he knew, but he recognized the disturbance to be magic.
And this magic was moving away from Vermillion’s fingertips and directly towards Emerald, who stood just to the right of Phinnegan.
He tried to scream out a warning, but like everyone else, he seemed to be moving in slow motion. Everyone that is, except for Emerald. Her movement appeared normal as she closed her eyes and brought her hands before her, the palms facing up.
Phinnegan expected her to do something, to perform some sort of counter-magic, not that he knew what she could do. But she only stood, her eyes closed, appearing oblivious to the magical distortion that had now covered half the distance between the two.
Again Phinnegan struggled to warn her, but though his mind raced, his body would not respond. He watched as the distortion moved closer and closer to her. Yet still, she did not move.
The distortion passed between her hands, moving directly towards her chest. As if awakened, her eyes opened. When she spoke, her lips parted in a slight smile.
“Éalaigh,” she breathed, her eyes fixated on her father.
The air around them quivered and shook, and a familiar tug pulled at Phinnegan’s navel. He felt himself falling…falling…falling…
And then it ended. There was no impact, no painful collision with the ground. Instead, the ground was soft and lush; the air filled with a sweet aroma.
Weariness descended upon him like a storm cloud. He was so very tired. His mind slowed as he inhaled the sugary smell around him.
So tired.
Another deep breath.
So weak.
A third deep breath.
Sleep…
He heard them calling his name, but his mind had already begun to slip into itself. The voices were so far away, and he, so very tired.
So very, very tired.
Phinnegan’s eyes opened slowly, but then took only a few moments to adjust to the light around him, dim as it was. The only sound that reached his ears was the methodic ticking of a clock on the table beside the bed.
“You’re awake,” a voice said softly to his left. Turning, he saw Emerald sitting in a small chair, her legs crossed and an open book in her lap. She smiled warmly at him as she unfurled herself from the chair and moved to his bedside.
“How do you feel?”
“Tired,” he answered truthfully. “What happened?”
“You saved us all,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she placed a hand upon his brow. Leaning over, she kissed him delicately upon the cheek as she came to her knees beside his bed, her face now even with his.
“You saved me.”
Phinnegan grinned.
“Then…it worked? The spell worked?”
“Yes,” Emerald said. “I am not…normal. But whatever…“ she paused her smile faltering. “Whatever he did to me…it’s quiet. It’s still there, looking out at me. But it’s quiet.”
“You’ll be all right then?” Phinnegan asked.
“Yes, I will,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it firmly. “I will.”
“But…what happened?”
“We escaped. I brought us to a place where neither my father nor any of his people could follow. You’ve been here before, if I recall.”
Phinnegan’s mind traced back to some of the earliest hours after his arrival in this world. He recalled the escape from Féradoon and their flight through Darkwater Forest, and from the Faolchú.
“Then we are in Crimson’s house. Where is he?”
“Yes,” she said, her face growing dark. “I didn’t want to bring you here, not after what they did to you. But you were weak, and the flowers had put you to sleep very quickly. In the end, I decided I had little choice.”
“They’re all right then, too? Crimson and Periwinkle?
“Yes, they’re fine, though they don’t deserve it. Not after everything that they have done.”
”What about the stone?” Phinnegan asked, ignoring the comment about the two Faë.
“Unfortunately,” she said quietly, “my father has it.”
Phinnegan’s eyes began to fill with tears.
“Don’t cry,” she said soothingly. “It will take time for him to grasp the stone’s powers completely.”
“No, it’s not that,” Phinnegan said, wiping his eyes. “I mean, it’s terrible, but…”
“But what?”
“But now I shall never get home. The stone was my only way home…I knew at least one of the visions would come true.”
“What visions?” Emerald asked softly, but Phinnegan only shook his head as he fought back the tears.
“Phinnegan,” she said, pulling his head so that he faced her. “I can send you home.”
“You can?” Phinnegan exclaimed, bolting upright so quickly that his head swam with dizziness.
“Yes, I can,” she said as she guided him back onto the bed. “But tomorrow. You need to rest.”
“But I want to go now.”
“I understand that, but you are already weak. This journey will tire you further. Tomorrow morning, I promise.” Her warm smile and gentle demeanor quieted Phinnegan’s insistence.
“All right…”
“Here,” she said, passing him a glass of milky liquid that smelled faintly of ginger. “Drink this. It will help you sleep and regain your strength.”
Phinnegan took the glass and drank its contents without complaint, though the taste was bitter and not at all sweet like he had imagined.
“Very good. Sleep now and tomorrow we will send you home.”
“Promise?” Phinnegan said sleepily, the draught’s effects already taking hold.
“Promise.”
Home
When he stepped outside the following morning, Phinnegan found the three Faë, their green, red and purple hair dancing in a warm breeze. He had slept soundly, Emerald’s draught helping to clear his mind and ensure a deep sleep. He had awakened refreshed, and now the breeze and the warmth of the sun further energized him.
Today was a big day. Today he was going home.
But all did not appear to sit well with the three Faë. Phinnegan could see from Emerald’s body language that she was still angry with Periwinkle and Crimson for their abandonment of him - their use of him. As he thought about it, his face warmed at the memory of the disinterested shrug Periwinkle had shown him before disappearing with the Great Stone.
And now, Vermillion had the stone.
Phinnegan shook his head to push the thoughts from his mind.
He took a moment to take in the world around him, the last time he thought he would ever see it. The trees were tall and strong, not unlike any tree he would see at home. Nor was the sky or ground truly different from what he had seen his entire life. And yet, everything here possessed some air of surrealism - a color here was not quite right, or this one seemed too vibrant. The air, Phinnegan felt, had an energy to it that he did not remember from his own world.
“Feeling better?” Emerald questioned, pulling Phinnegan from his musings. Though she was now clearly different than when she was fading into a gholem, Phinnegan still detected a grayness to her eyes, and her hair, while still a bright green, had a less vibrant quality than the first time he had seen her.
“Yes, much,” Phinnegan said as he stood to greet her. “I never said thank you, for saving me.” Emerald waved a hand dismissively.
“Thank me? You did more for me than I could ever hope to repay. But I shall try,” she said, presenting a sly wink as she took his hand. “Are you ready?”
“You mean to go home?” Phinnegan asked, a tinge of excitement creeping into his voice.
“Yes. But first,” she paused, her smile fading, “they want to speak to you.” She jerked her head in the direction of Periwinkle and Crimson, who stood some several yards away.
“Why?”
“To apologize, I believe. You don’t have to listen, of course. If I had my way, they wouldn’t even be here.”
Phinnegan’s face hardened momentarily as he flicked his gaze to the two Faë.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll talk to them.”
The pair walked the several yards separating them from Periwinkle and Crimson. The two Faë could be seen to end their conversation as he and Emerald approached.
“Hallo, mate,” Periwinkle said with a short bow. Crimson cleared his throat, directing a sharp look at the purple-haired Faë.
“Well, I mean, I am sorry, you know. Hated leaving you like that, I did. Terrible thing. But, well, the giants were roaming and,” the Faë trailed off, his voice withering under a menacing glare from Emerald.
“Look, no excuses,” Periwinkle began, pulling Phinnegan aside and speaking quietly. “What I did…I understand if you can’t forgive me. Terrible friend, I was, but –“
“But what?” Phinnegan whispered sharply, the memory of Heronhawk blazing in his mind.
Periwinkle glanced quickly in Emerald’s direction before leaning even closer to Phinnegan.”
“I did it for her.”
“What?” Phinnegan blurted, confused by this confession.
“The Great Stone. I thought with its power I could find her, that I could save her.”
Phinnegan’s face softened as he heard the sincerity in Periwinkle’s voice. He remembered their conversation in the dark, the love that Periwinkle had confessed.
“Did you ever plan to send me home? Was it all a ruse?”
Periwinkle shrugged apologetically.
“I admit I wanted the stone first for her…but I always planned to send you home, mate. Honest, I did. But when you couldn’t pass through the doorway and I already had the stone, I….” The Faë’s eyes fell and he was silent for several moments, his eyes searching the ground for words his mind could not find.
“Here,” he said, handing Phinnegan a small purple gem he took from his vest pocket.
“What is it?” Phinnegan asked, accepting the gem.
“A symbol of the debt I owe you. You saved her when I could not…” Periwinkle’s eyes met Phinnegan’s, fierce and gleaming.
“One day, mate,” he said, nodding to the gem in Phinnegan’s hand. Without another word, Periwinkle turned and walked back to the other two Faë. Phinnegan stood alone with his thoughts, rolling the gem between his fingers.