Page 8 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)
Explosive cheering from the crowd made us swivel our heads back towards the stage.
The corpulent figure toddled across the platform, one hand held up and outwards as he waved to the welcoming crowd.
That must be Lord Leviathus. His dark gray skin looked waxy, and his large, blocky teeth could be seen from where I stood.
Trying to remember the type of fey he was proved difficult.
He tapped his cane on the floor of the stage twice, the sound far louder than it should have been.
His booming voice, no doubt magically enhanced like the melody of our accompaniment, rang through the amphitheater, “Ladies, gents, fey of all kinds! We hope you enjoyed the performances here this evening. It is my distinct pleasure to announce the winner, or shall I say, winners of the Fey Carnival’s Singing Contest! ”
Winners? My hope soared.
Whoops, hollers, and claps echoed across. Lord Leviathus laughed, holding his hands out at the crowd to calm them. When the noise died down, Lord Leviathus continued, “And this year’s winners are… THE ZACKMAN brOTHERS!”
The crowd rose to its feet, cheering. My jaw went slack, but I began to clap. The four-man group was talented, and it was well won. Still, defeat stung.
“Aw, come on!” Raewyn yelled, throwing up her hands, but she was drowned out by the jubilant audience. “Rigged, like your stupid games!” .
After handing the bouquet of singing wildflowers to the winners, who held it up high in victory, Lord Leviathus began to come our way.
It’s now or never.
As he descended the stairs, two-footing each step, he spoke, his voice now a normal volume, “I wanted to congratulate all of you on a job well done, contestants. Especially you, the, I believe, Swordhand sisters? It was a tough call for the judges, I hear.” He walked over to us, shaking our hands like a politician begging for support and patting our arms.
Now.
”We have a conundrum. The mischief hag is in the carnival and stealing from others again. This gnome just had her tools stolen. I-” His loud laugh interrupted me.
Lord Leviathus rapped his cane on the ground twice with dull thuds. “An excellent singer, and funny as well!”
“Pardon?” I stepped back, shaking my head in confusion. “This is not a joke, sir. She’s here. Now.”
He gave me an indulgent smile, his speech dismissive and more than a little condescending, “There’s no such thing as mischief hags, miss. Bedtime stories for naughty children who don’t clean their rooms.”
My shock at his brush-off made me sputter. “But sir! I’m not lying. She’s here at your carnival!”
Lord Leviathus’ smile disappeared, replaced by a deep scowl. “Now, that’s quite enough, miss.” He tried to waddle away, but my hard hand on his arm stopped him.
“They’re a menace, sir!”
“People are starting to stare, Nat. And I think they’re security.”
Lord Leviathus removed my hand with a glare. “Keep your hands to yourself, or I will have you removed.” He waved off the two burly, tusked fey and shuffled back up the stairs as quickly as he could manage. Jaw dropped and at a loss for words, I watched him depart.
Why is he so ignorant of this? I cannot have been the first person to tell him about the hags.
As Lord Leviathus disappeared from view, a bitter taste filled my mouth.
I failed… again. So much for luck.
“I can help you.”
The soft murmur made me spin around to see the woman who had sung about cupcakes.
Motifs of vines and brightly colored flowers decorated her robes in fine embroidery.
Delicate gold jewelry graced her pointed ears.
She held a twisted, gnarled staff in her graceful hands.
With her russet coloring and sharp, angular features, she might’ve been one of the foxlike vulpe fey.
Raewyn replied, “You can? How?” My sister narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”
The fey woman didn’t appear to be offended at Raewyn’s accusing tone.
She put her hand to her breast. “I am Leraska, and I’ve encountered them before.
I know where the mischief hags reside. In the Feylands.
There are three of them. Always three. You could, perhaps, go after them yourselves? Reclaim what they took? ”
“And what will we owe you for this information?” Ramiren asked, moving closer to eye the woman.
She lifted her chin. “They are a menace, as she said.” She pointed at me and shrugged.
“They steal and lie and torment, causing nothing but grief in their wake. They’ve ruined people, but no one dares to stand against them.
Too many are too afraid of what the hag might steal.
Their memories. Their abilities. Their most precious possessions.
They usually take from children. Less hassle, and they enjoy the fear.
But they will not hesitate to take from adults too, if the opportunity presents itself. ”
“Was something taken from you too, then?”
Leraska’s eyes hardened, and her mouth thinned as though trying to keep her emotions in check. “Yes, something was taken from me. Long ago.”
My suspicions disappeared as the pain and longing in her words made empathy bloom in my heart. I can help her, too.
Leraska exhaled through pursed lips as she sized me up, perhaps wondering if I could handle them.
Then, as though my presentation met her expectations, she smiled.
“One is in a dilapidated house in the Jorin Swamp, south of Puldoni. It is your Irenian Swamp, south of Evraka. You see, the Feylands are a mirror of this world, merely with different names.”
Hearing that about the Feylands and seeing it were two different things, and my lack of desire to travel there meant I’d rarely given it much thought. My eyes panned around at everyone’s faces for a beat before settling back on Leraska’s. “And the other two?”
“The second is in a cave east of the Tanta Desert, your Pouroe Desert, just north of the mountain pass there. The third is in a castle built high, in the middle of Carpatha, the capital city of Wistran, in what you know as Camlynn.”
My head spun. Keeping these names and places, and their copy in our world, straight would be difficult.
“Do you perhaps have a map, by chance?” I asked, hopeful and nervous. We were not going to get anywhere without a map.
That was when Ramiren interjected with a smile.
He looked down at the glowing roll of parchment in front of him I’d been too distracted to notice.
Writing materialized on the parchment as he spoke, “Dilapidated house, in the Jorin Swamp, south of Puldoni. Our Irenian Swamp, south of Evraka. That’s number one.
Number two, is in a cave east of the Tanta Desert, our Pouroe, north of the mountain pass.
Third is in Wistran, our Camlynn, in the castle in the capital city of Carpatha. ”
Leraska replied, eyebrows raised as though impressed, “Yes, all of that is correct.”
Holy shit. “You have a gift for memory.”
“You have to, in my line of work.” The glowing scroll rolled up and disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.
Georgina yawned and scratched her tiny belly. “If nothing else, I can help a little. I’ve been to the Feylands a few times. Not many places are better than Elancia or Kopi for metalwork and blacksmithing, outside of Tirvinir.”
I peered down at the gnome and recalled the large elf I’d seen earlier, wondering how such big beings could work so well alongside such small ones.
How many had accidentally been stepped on?
“Are you coming with us, then, Ramiren? They haven’t stolen anything from you. This isn’t necessarily your fight.” We could use someone of his skills, not to mention my idea…
My sharp inhale sounded deafening, so I held the breath.
You want his help. That’s all.
He graced me with a one-sided smile, and my stomach knotted. “I am here to assist. I’ve been to the Feylands before, though perhaps not as often as our tinkerer here, and I believe my presence might be beneficial to you. Besides, I have business there. It should not interfere with this.”
The deep breath I’d been holding puffed out in relief. “Thank you.” He nodded once at my gratitude .
Leraska went on, “They keep vials of their treasures, those stolen from people, in cupboards. Search there for your name and break the glass. It should give you back what was taken.”
“How would my tools fit in a vial?” Georgina questioned, looking skeptical.
Leraska replied, tilting her head down to smile at the gnome, “Those things stolen are often abstract, and rarely physical items. Likely, your ability to use those tools was also stolen. Regardless, your actual tools should be near the cupboard.”
Georgina scrunched up her face. “But that’s utter nonsense! I know how to use tools.” She put her hand to her chin. “Though at the moment I cannot seem to recall what a wrench is for…”
“How do you know so much about them?” A warning in the pit of my stomach flourished and would not relent. It seemed too convenient. What does she gain from this?
She chuckled and shrugged as though the answer was obvious. “I live in the Feylands. They are well known.”
At my side, Raewyn met my eyes and gave a shrug of her own. “I guess,” she murmured.
She lowered her staff point-down into the ground and stood straighter. “I am the head caretaker of the Ivory Grove. Go there when you have completed your task, on the eastern Wistran border, and I will be waiting to send you home. Are you ready to depart?”
“This is a lot to memorize,” I grumbled. Perhaps she does gain something from their demise, but there was no indication of how. Or she merely wants to rid the Feylands of evil creatures and cannot do it alone. “Yes, I am ready. I’ll be sure to search for your name in the cupboards.”
When everyone else affirmed their own readiness, Leraska smiled. “Then let us begin.” A gentle light emanated from the staff she held in her hands, which got brighter and brighter until it exploded .