Bones of Faerie

the memory of how he'd invaded my thoughts made me want to crawl out of my skin.

“Time and space are fluid in visions,” Karin said, but for a moment she looked very troubled indeed.

I spoke on, telling how I'd reached through Caleb's mirror and felt the wind of a dead land against my skin.

The only thing I didn't share were my visions of Father. That shame belonged to—ought to have belonged to— no one but me.

At last I fell silent. A weed curled around the toe of Karin's boot, and she absently nudged it away.

“Are my visions true?” I asked again. I felt strange and calm, not how I expected to feel after speaking those visions aloud.

“I don't know.”

“Might they be true?”

“They might.”

And my mother might be alive. My hands clenched. “I have to find her.” I couldn't do anything else, not while there might still be a chance.

Karin slowly unlaced her fingers and set her hands in her lap. “If your visions speak true, it sounds as if your mother is beyond the Arch.”

How could anything exist beyond the surface of a mirror? I remembered how my hand had moved through Caleb's smaller mirror, though. “Beyond the Arch—you mean in the land of dead trees?”

Karin's gaze drew inward, as if she saw something I couldn't. “That would be Faerie,” she said.

A few cold raindrops slid beneath my sweater. Why would even faerie folk live in such a place? It was living trees they'd called against us, after all. “I have to go there,” I said, even as I wondered what chance I could possibly stand against faerie folk. Yet the land had been empty in my visions. Perhaps the faerie folk didn't live there anymore, either.

“I'll train you first,” Karin said. “You'll need all the magic you have to survive beyond the Wall—and in Faerie.”

I shook my head as I remembered the dogs and the mulberry trees and a night Matthew and I almost hadn't survived. So much time, Mom had said, but I had a feeling there was hardly any time at all. Something was wrong—I knew that now as surely as I had known it in my vision. Something was wrong, and it already might be too late to set things right. “I need to go now.”

Karin frowned and reached for the Wall, as if touching wild things helped her think better. Ivy curled like a bracelet around her wrist, and a few stray shoots wove themselves into her sleeve. “I would go with you, but I must stay here to maintain the Wall. Caleb will go, if you ask.”

“No!” The thought of traveling with Caleb after all he'd seen, after all he'd forced me to see…“No.”

“Wait until Matthew is healed, then.”

I hesitated. Matthew and I had gotten this far together, and the thought of his company was more comforting than I expected. But I remembered his ragged breathing and his pale, bruised skin. I couldn't put him in danger again. I shook my head once more. “He'll be safe here.” Karin could train him if she wanted, once he was well.

“You don't want to take this journey alone, Liza.”

I said nothing. Drizzle started up again. The ivy drew back from Karin's skin and stretched toward the rain. Other vines and briars did the same, until the whole Wall reached for the sky.

Karin frowned. “It is possible,” she said slowly, “that the way through the Arch was left open after the War. In that case once you reach it you need only to step through. But otherwise, if the way isn't open—then, Liza, you'll have to rely on your own magic. Your visions have power enough to let you through the Arch, just as they let your hand through Caleb's mirror. But if you fail, you could wander in visions forever. I'd rather you let me teach you.”

I drew my arms around myself. “How far away is the Arch? Do you know how to get there?”

Wind blew a few clear strands from Karin's braid. She was silent so long I thought perhaps she'd decided not to tell me, but then she sighed, a sound like trees in the rain. “It has been many years since I made that journey, but Samuel can show you the way on his map. I'm not sure how long it will take you—a week, perhaps. You will at least wait until sunrise to go, yes?”

“I'll leave at dawn,” I agreed.

Karin nodded slowly. “Come, then. You need rest before you go.”

I let her lead me back to Samuel's house. As we walked I asked, “What about the shadow? Caleb said —”

“Do not trouble yourself with what Caleb said. You have other things to think about now. I will do what I can to see that the shadow follows you no further.”

Allie ran to us as Karin opened Samuel's door. The girl's wool nightgown trailed behind her. In places her loose red hair stood on end, as if she'd been running her hands through it. “What's going on?” she demanded. “Caleb said you might be leaving, but he wouldn't say why.”

My chest tightened, remembering all that Caleb had seen. Only Karin's steady hand on my shoulder kept me from running away.

“He wouldn't tell me anything,” Allie complained. “He just went up to Matthew and shut the door, wouldn't even let me in.”

My stomach clenched. I shoved past Allie and ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Caleb had said he couldn't be certain Matthew would heal fully, even now. I threw open the bedroom door and ran to Matthew's side.

Matthew slept, quiet as a child. The tension had left his face. He breathed softly and without pain. I reached for his hand, then drew awkwardly back. He was fine.

“He'll be well enough to travel come morning.” It was Caleb's voice, low and weak. I looked up and saw Caleb slumped in the chair. His face was gray, his eyes shadowed. He met my gaze, and we both flinched away.

Allie ran to Caleb's side and placed her hands over his. “You pushed too hard!” she said, as if scolding a child. “You always tell me not to push too hard!”

Caleb didn't seem to hear. His hands beneath hers were clenched into fists. He looked at me again, and I looked to the floor.

“You can't go after her alone, and I know better than to expect you'd let me go with you. But the boy will go.

I don't know what you are to each other, but he has followed you this far. He'll not abandon you now.”

I took a step back. “How do you know I'm going?” I hadn't told anyone but Karin yet.

“It was a guess, nothing more, given what I saw. Did I guess wrong?”

He had no right to see all he did. He had no right to guess at what I'd do before I'd even decided for myself.

I heard quiet conversation and footsteps on the stairs. Samuel and Karin stepped into the room as Caleb stood, shaking, and walked toward me. My chest pounded with the fear that he might enter my thoughts once more, but he only opened his fist and dropped something into my palm—a metal disk not much wider than my thumb, hanging from a chain. “Find your mother, Liza.” Caleb's voice trembled like water beneath wind. “And when you do, tell her I am sorry. Tell her she was right.”

He fell to his knees. Allie cried out. Samuel and Karin ran to help him to his feet. “You need rest,” Allie said severely.

Caleb stumbled toward the door. Allie started after him, but Karin laid a hand on her shoulder. “I'll see him safely home,” Karin said. “He'll be fine, I promise. You stay here and help Liza pack, all right?” Allie swallowed and nodded. Karin helped Caleb from the room. “You're a fool,” she said to him again, not with anger this time.

Allie whispered, “Caleb could have killed himself, pushing so far without a watcher. Why didn't he call me? I would have helped him. He knows that.”

Samuel drew her close. If he was still angry at her for going beyond the Wall, he gave no sign. “Caleb knew you would have stopped him. And he knew he needed to do it anyway.”

“I don't understand,” Allie complained.

I looked down at the disk in my hand. The surface was worn and tarnished, but I could tell the metalwork came from Before. The picture etched on its surface was more intricate than anything we had craft for now: on one