Page 43 of The Guardians of Dreamdark (Windwitch #1)

“Ach. Bossy bird,” she grumbled, lying down and nestling herself into the silk. “Good night, Talon,” she said, adding, “and once we get back to the castle, you have to teach me the sixth glyph for phantom.”

“Sure,” he said softly. He closed his eyes.

The castle , he thought, and a strange reluctance overcame him at the reminder of his real life.

Not that the day had been all magic—nay, he felt sick just remembering the dead things floating in jars—but the thought of returning to the castle ramparts to stand watch, after all he’d seen today, all he’d done, made him feel dull and weary.

“It was a lot to take in all at once today, neh?” Magpie whispered, as if reading his mind.

“Aye,” he whispered back. “This what it’s like for you every day?”

“Neh, we keep clear of mannies as much as we can. But there’s a wide lot to see in the world, sure, and a lot to do. And not just catching devils either. There’s spells to save, and things to steal back from plunder monkeys, and temples to find, and the Djinns’ old libraries to explore.”

“So that’s what you do?” he asked. “You go around hunting down spells and things?”

“Aye. My parents figured out a long time ago that magic is slipping out of the world, but it turns out it’s worse than they know,” she said, thinking of the Tapestry, the unweaving, the Astaroth. “Far worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“I been finding out some things lately,” she said. “Some real dire things. But the one to worry on first is the Blackbringer.”

“What was all that you were saying back at the castle? About it being the...what was it? Asterisk?”

“Astaroth,” she corrected. “He was a wind elemental, as ancient as the Djinn, who helped them make the world.”

“Eh? I never heard of that.”

“Neh, no one did. Things went bad betwixt ’em. The Astaroth made the devils, so the Djinn did away with him. I thought Fade meant they killed him, but now I think maybe they just changed him somehow, into the Blackbringer.”

“What’s this about Fade?” Talon asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Er...” Magpie said, and nimble lies filled her mouth, ready to tumble out. But she bit them back. “Well,” she said slowly, her eyes holding his gaze steady. “When Snoshti took me away before...I met him.”

“What?” he asked with a laugh, thinking she was joking. “Where?”

“In the canyon where he lives.”

He stopped laughing. “I thought he was dead.”

“He is.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been to the Moonlit Gardens.”

She just looked at him.

“Impossible!” he exclaimed, remembering only as he said it: What do I know of impossible? Less and less every minute, sure , he thought, and paused before asking, “Okay, but... how ?”

“That blessing ceremony I told you about...” she said, and took a deep breath, blushing. “Talon, listen, this is all going to sound mad, but here it is.”

She told him everything in one swift rush. By the end of it, he was just staring at her, and she said peevishly, “You wanted to know, now you know. Say something.”

“So it’s...the Tapestry? The...energy...that’s all around us? Like a river?”

Magpie cocked her head and looked at him keenly. “You feel it, too?”

He nodded. “When I’m knitting, it’s like my mind falls into a river full of glyphs that just takes me...”

Magpie was nodding, too, and that wondering smile was playing at the corners of her lips. “Flummox me,” she said. “And Poppy felt it, too. I guess I’m not alone like I always thought.”

“Do you think all faeries feel it?” Talon asked.

“I know they used to, before the Djinn forsook us.”

“Maybe when the Magruwen dreamed you his dreams sort of spilled over and touched other sprouts who were being born, too.”

“We are all the same age,” she mused. “And we were all born in Dreamdark. I wonder if it’s just us or if there are others, too.”

“I wonder.”

“So you...believe me?” Magpie asked timidly.

He shrugged. “Sure I never knew anyone like you before,” he said easily. “But Magpie...if you were in the Gardens, did you happen to see...my folk?”

“Neh. The Blackbringer’s victims aren’t there.”

“What? Then where are they?”

“I don’t know,” she said in a bleak voice.

Batch rolled over then and farted in his sleep, and Magpie and Talon both had to suppress snorts of laughter. “It’s good to know,” said Talon, “that nothing’s ever so serious that a squelch can’t make you laugh.”

“Words to live by,” Magpie agreed.

Calypso said in an exasperated voice, “Jacksmoke, faeries! Do I have to knock ye on the heads to make ye rest?”

They tried to stifle their laughter. As she rolled over onto her side, Magpie felt something dig into her hip, and she sat up suddenly. “Oh!”

“What is it?” Talon asked.

Magpie was holding a little metal flask that was hooked onto her belt.

“I forgot about this,” she said sadly. “Poppy gave it to me the day she...” Her mind rejected the word died , and she just trailed off.

“It’s a potion she made. It’s supposed to help you remember your dreams.” She unscrewed the little cap and took a deep breath before drinking a swig of it.

“Hmm,” she said. “It tastes nice. Want some? Dreams, you know, Bellatrix said that dreams are everything.”

Talon shook his head and murmured, “Bellatrix,” with wonder as he reached for the flask. He took a sip and handed it back.

They flopped down back-to-back and nestled snug in the deep silks. “Good night, Talon,” said Magpie.

“Good night, Magpie.”

They were fast asleep within a minute. On the edge of the trunk Calypso muttered, “About time!”