Emerald City Dreamer (47 page)

Jina got goose bumps as she realized the blanket wasn't really helping to keep her warm.

"
Are you alright, fair dreamer?"

Jina nodded. "I'll be fine." Jett would be back soon. If there was any faerie magic going on here, she would know what to do.

Fiz did not believe her, but began by proudly showing her the kitchen. He explained everything to her as if she were moving in. She learned where the cups, plates, and silverware went. She learned the chore rotation, and how to deal with the nykks who lived here like cats. And how to deal with transient nykks who dropped in for unannounced visits. Shoes off in the house, coats on the rack, always clean up after yourself, don't touch other people's stuff without permission or eat labeled food.

The vine in the living room was actually a lesser dryad named Bart. The tree in the kitchen wasn't quite substantial enough to have a name or be a dryad. Not yet.

As she went through each room, she felt a little colder. She found that if she fidgeted, she could generate a little more body heat. She found herself wishing Jett would be home soon.

The upstairs hallway looked more like a forest path in a Disney film, full of floating fireflies. The air felt misty and the floor was pleasantly damp. It felt a little warmer here. Perhaps it was the humidity.

The hallway seemed a lot longer than it should have been, and there seemed to be two or three more rooms than ought to fit into this kind of house. This house definitely seemed bigger on the inside.

The statue in the middle of the hall winked at her. Jina halted.

"
Pay it no mind," Fiz said, laying a comforting hand on Jina's shoulder. "It does that, but it is harmless enough. We bought it from Gargoyles."

Jina reached out and touched its cold stone. "None of their statues ever winked at me before."

"
Ah," Fiz said. "They don't just sell plaster things to mortals. Sometimes they get merchandise that isn't exactly... dead."

Jina raised her eyebrows in surprise.

Fiz smiled. "There are so many places in the city that are not what they seem."

All the doors on this level were closed, and Fiz didn't show her into anyone's personal rooms, but one door was ajar, and the walls inside were covered with lit candles.

At the end of the hall, Fiz opened a door to a small room looking not much different than the hall forest. Tree branches curved up one wall and curled around the ceiling in a canopy. There might have once been a window, in a spot where there was an indentation covered in leaves. The bed, probably an old twin mattress in reality, was carved into the side of the tree, and cushioned in moss. An open flower provided light like a reading lamp.

"
We were saving this room for Ezra," Fiz said. "But he never called. You may have it, if you wish."

At the mention of his name, the magic left the room. Now it only seemed gloomy and sad. It could have been his, if he were still alive. "I'd rather sleep on the floor someplace," Jina said. "This place is... It wouldn't be right." She turned and headed down the stairs. She wasn't planning on sleeping any time soon, anyway. "Can I get some hot chocolate? Coffee maybe?"

"
But of course."

In the kitchen, Fiz started to fumble with the coffee grinder, but Jina swept in. If she kept moving, maybe she could keep warm. She drank it black as soon as it came dripping out of the machine, letting the hot soak into her muscles and fight off her fatigue. She poured another cup.

Through it all, Fiz tried joking with her, chatting with her, and eventually she shook the ghost of Ezra and he succeeded in distracting her from worrying about her chill. He suggested she was merely coming down with the flu. She knew better.

Jina wandered out onto the porch to smoke, with Fiz close at her side. She gazed at the sidewalk, knowing it wasn't freedom.

After a while, she tried to call Sandy. Fiz frowned, but Jina wasn't able to reach her anyway. She hoped Sandy was comfortably asleep in her huge warm bed. Somehow she doubted it.

When she'd had too much coffee, she switched to hot chocolate and turned on the TV in the living room, hoping to find the sun there. She found it, on the morning news, but only in recorded footage. When a live broadcast came on about a shooting at a convenience store, she saw only night, even though the timestamp read 7:38am.

Jett came in a few moments later. Jina muted the TV. She wasn't sure what to expect, but Jett flowed in and wrapped her arms warmly around Jina, as if nothing had happened.

"
Mo blath beag
," she said sweetly.

"
What have you done to Sandy?" Jina asked, unable to keep the accusation out of her tone.

Jett stood back up and said almost cheerfully, "Her riches shall diminish, as shall her larder, and all the fae in the land will hunger for her. I have left my curse at her doorstep, and I, myself, will trouble her no more."

"
You're making a mistake," Jina said.

Jett forced a short laugh, almost a bark. "Surely the ferocious archer can defend herself against a mere doe," she said, tilting her head. "For as long as it takes."

"
Sandy is not as strong as you think she is," Jina whispered. "She's not some medieval
Frumentarii
with the power of Church and State to back her."

Jett's stance took on an air of finality. "I have done what I have done, and I wash my hands of it."

Jina shivered and drew the blanket closer around her neck. "What I went through, she got it worse..."

"
No more."

"
There's something else. Not to do with Sandy."

Jett sat back down. "Whatever is troubling my little flower? Name it, and I will do what is in my power to bring you a sliver of cheer."

"
The sun never came up today."

Jett laughed, her voice like innocent silver bells. "Of course it did."

"
Not for me."

Jett looked at Jina and her face grew serious. "The korrigan?" Her voice trailed off.

"
He said night would be as day. But it's worse than that. I can't seem to get warm."

"
Impossible." Jett pursed her lips. "I protected you Jina, from the day I fell in love with you. I claimed you with an elf-shot, marking you as mine and protecting you from all others."

Jina rubbed her eyes, emotionally drained, yet full of dread. "I had an amulet in the Order. You saw it, once. It protected me from all glamouring: his... and yours."

A light of recognition came to Jett's face as she reviewed past events. "Then... how could he...?"

"
Last night, I... I gave the amulet back to Sandy. Threw it at her actually, right before I left. He was waiting outside."

Jett came to her feet, eyes narrowed, fists clenched. "His blood will run beneath my fingers! I..." The energy left her and she sat back down. "My little flower, he could have had you last night, when I thought you were protected. It was right of you to come here. I must protect you now." Jett took Jina's hand and kissed it. Her lips felt hot. "You are faestricken, and his curse is killing you."

Jina remembered Trey's chilblains. "He did something like this before, to Trey. Once we'd gotten away from Pogswoth, Trey started warming up. But... obviously that's not working this time."

Jett nodded. "This spell is more powerful."

"
I was hoping you would know how to reverse it." Jina sipped at her third cup of hot chocolate.

"
The curse is set. Only Pogswoth can break it."

"
The same way only you can break whatever curse you've laid on Sandy?"

"
Yes."

"
So let's go get him. Pogswoth. You've got magic. We can find out where he lives, and make him lift this thing."

Jett looked almost ashamed. "Pogswoth is not entirely under my control. Were he someone else, I could order him to cease, but you've seen him scoff at what was once my power. Many of the trooping faeries, and the solitary, have been infected by this rugged individualism you people are so proud of."

Jina sat forward. "It weakens your magic?"

"
I draw my glamour from bloodline and status. Pogswoth truly thinks he is my equal, so my power over him is diluted. It would be easier if he were a nykk, but his human blaosc gives him some of the same powers of belief and disbelief that you have. Culture creates the riverbed. The dream follows, and as faeborn, he can choose to ride that current, to flow away from the old ways."

Jina gripped the mug in her hands. "So the only thing that can save me is for Pogswoth to suddenly change his mind?"

"
There is one magic which is stronger," Jett said tentatively, sitting next to her and caressing Jina's hand.

"
A geas?"

Jett nodded.

"
No," Jina said. "There must be some other way."

"
You have nothing to fear," Jett said. "It is the way it has always been done. Many of the great artists in time have had a muse."

"
Or the muse has had them?"

Jett frowned. "They have lived full lives, all of them, more free than most men on earth who slave for human feudal lords or corporate management."

"
And I have slaved for none of them."

"
You did not slave for Sandy?"

Jett was more right than Jina wanted to let on. "I know why you came down those stairs last night," she said, changing the subject. "It was my song, wasn't it?"

Jett did not answer.

"
I'm a dreamer, right? I can sway him. I'll just write a song and make him release me."

Jett held her silence for a long time, until Jina waved her hand in front of Jett's eyes.

"
It will not work on him," she finally said.

"
Why not? I'm right, aren't I? That's what finally softened you."

"
I will only say... that some fae are more susceptible to the tug of a dreamer than others."

So that was it. That was what Jina had seen when Jett had plumbed the depths of her mind. Jina had a power over the elf. No wonder she wanted to bind Jina to her command as soon as possible.

Jina spoke slowly, hesitantly. "Sandy would know how to remove a faerie curse."

"
Would she? She cannot lift the curse I placed on her, nor unstrike the faestroke against you."

"
But she--"

"
You may not cross her threshold, Jina." Jett's voice held a finality that reverberated through Jina's soul, and Jina knew if she had sworn a geas earlier that night, she would be bound by Jett's command. Not that it mattered. She couldn't leave the brugh anyway. Jett had seen to that.

"
Did you break her phone, too?" Jina asked.

"
No. But I would ask you not to call."

In defiance, Jina dialed Sandy's number right then. Her fingers were numb as she held the phone to her ear.

"
Pick up, pick up," she said.

She heard Sandy's voice on the other end of the line, telling her to leave a message.

THE SUN WAS SETTING. Sandy didn't know the meaning of tired.

She sat on the back porch, Scotch in hand, shotgun across her lap. Now and then, a new faerie would creep into the backyard, and she'd play whack-a-mole. Right now, she had the all-time high score.

The nykk bodies had all dissolved into a pale blue mist that pooled between the brick walls and the garage, all that remained of the hundreds she must have killed since sunrise. It leak out around the side yard to the front, where it dissipated on the street like an old fog.

Sandy looked at the golden liquor in her glass and mused. The alcohol hadn't impaired her. If anything, it made her stronger. Hollis and Gretel had worn out hours before, and were fast asleep in their individual beds, but she was still kicking.

They had killed every faerie who dared come to her door, except those who had hidden out of sight on her roof. When the other two woke up, they would storm the gates at Jett's house, wherever she lived, and rescue Jina.

Her stomach growled and she realized she hadn't eaten all day. She rose, stretching her sore muscles, and limped into the kitchen for a bowl of cereal.

They were out of milk.