The Search for the Shadowsoul, page 8
Percy leapt onto the path. “Forest, stop! He’s not a brigand, he needs help!”
Forest hung from the elf’s ear by his tiny claws and looked at Percy. “Not a brigand?”
The elf tried to backhand Forest, who dodged nimbly and leapt onto the broken cart, giving Percy a look that meant, See? I told you he was a ne’er-do-well!
The wizard rolled his eyes. “Look at him. His cart is broken.”
Forest glared at the elf. “Or he’s acting like bait so his fellow brigands can rob us!”
“I’m really sorry about that,” Percy said to the elf. “Forest is, um, my familiar.”
Forest puffed up at this. “I’ve just come from the In-Between!”
“He’s new to… well, everything,” Percy added.
The elf glanced between the strange creature and the boy. “A familiar? You’re a magic user?”
“A wizard.”
A Hollower.
To Percy’s surprise the elf’s face split into a huge grin. “You can help me fix my wheel!”
After so much time at de-Hollowings and countless dirty looks in Avonshire, it was a relief that someone wanted his help. “Are you sure? My familiar just attacked you.”
The elf waved it away. “He’ll get the hang of things, yes? Mine hasn’t come yet, but my grandmother says there’s a learning curve. I’m Rafael.” He shook Percy’s hand. The Aether pulsed within the elf. Different from Merlynda, or Zahilda, but very much there.
“I’m Percy. You’re a magical being too?”
“A warlock.” Rafael jutted his chin toward the fuchsia bird. “This is Leona. She’s grumpy at the moment. Actually, she’s grumpy most moments, because she doesn’t like the Howlwyn.”
So they were in the Howlwyn. That was something, at least.
Forest leapt onto Leona’s back, then dashed up her long neck and flattened himself on her beak. He gazed into the bird’s green eyes. “HiLeonadoyouwanttobemyfriend?”
Leona’s feathers changed from fuchsia to a brilliant lemon yellow. She jerked her head and sent Forest flying. He tumbled through the air and landed on a tree trunk, gripping tightly with his claws. “Is that a yes? Does that mean she likes me?”
Rafael rushed to Leona, limping slightly as he moved. He sang a soft melody, stroking the bird’s neck, and Leona’s feathers shifted from yellow to a cloudy blue.
He sighed. “Well, that’s better than the yellow, yes?” He shrugged at Percy. “Leona’s a plumara. Her feathers tell you how she feels. This blue means she’s calming down.”
Percy didn’t need magical feathers to tell him how he felt. He was exhausted, and frightened, and—if he was being honest—completely overwhelmed at the thought of tracking down a Shadowsoul while avoiding the Round Table. But Rafael didn’t seem to recognize Percy, and that was, surprisingly, refreshing.
Forest leapt onto Percy’s shoulder. “Is yellow a friendship color?” he asked Rafael.
The elf grimaced. “Yellow means she’s startled. You scared her.”
Forest drooped. “Iggy made friends with all sorts of magical animals,” he muttered.
“I don’t think Ignus was as, um, eager as you are,” Percy offered. “And if you ever call him ‘Iggy’ without his permission, you’ll get an earful.”
Forest sat up. “You’re right. Friendship is earned. I’ll be the best friend Leona’s ever wanted!”
The wizard sighed, then looked back to Rafael. “How about we fix your wheel?”
* * *
There’d been a time when Percy could have repaired Rafael’s wheel with a thought, but that was before he had an evil sorceress living in his head. But Rafael needed his help, and Percy was determined to give it.
The wizard and his not-familiar picked up the splintered pieces of the wheel and arranged them on the ground. Rafael reached down and pulled up his left trouser leg, and for the first time Percy noticed that the leg was made of metal. Starting a few inches below the knee, thin sheets of metal were intricately layered over one another and crafted into a calf, an ankle, a foot shaped like a boot. Percy had never seen anything like it.
Rafael pressed on part of the calf, and a compartment popped open. He pulled out a crowbar and some strips of dried meat.
He handed the meat to Percy. “You’re hungry, yes? I could hear your stomach growling while you were in the bushes.”
“Thank you.” Percy tore off a huge bite, and ripped some smaller pieces off for Forest.
Forest swallowed a piece of the meat, and decided he preferred ants, but after the incident with Leona he didn’t want to be rude, and took another nibble. “That’s a nifty leg you’ve got there.”
“Forest,” Percy said sharply.
“What?” Forest asked, bewildered. He’d kept his distance and everything! “It is nifty! It holds tools and snacks and probably other neat stuff!”
“You oughtn’t go around pointing out the things that seem different about people. It’s rude.” Percy grimaced at Rafael. “I’m sorry. Like I said, he’s… new.”
“He’s not wrong, though.” Rafael rapped his knuckles on his metal leg. It was intricate, well crafted. “It is nifty. I made it myself.” Rafael lit up. “I’ll have to add on to it when I grow more, and it often needs tweaking, but I’ve already drawn up the designs. Also, look at this.”
Rafael popped open another compartment and pulled out a wool coat, an iron skillet, and a stack of Ye Knoble Knights Defend the Civilized World trading parchments.
He grinned. “I enchanted it so it’s bigger on the inside! Each compartment is its own little storage closet.”
Percy was impressed. “Why do you need help fixing your wheel when you can create something like this?”
“I’m an apprentice blacksmith.” Rafael packed everything back into his metal leg except the crowbar, which he jammed under the cart’s axle. The rest of the wheel tumbled off. “I’m used to working with metals. They’re tougher, yes? Wood breaks too easily. I tried already and made it worse.”
That must’ve been the crack Percy and Forest had heard. They finished laying out the wheel pieces, and Percy took a breath. He could do this. He started to focus on them, then heard a tiny cough.
“Oh, right. Um, ready, Forest?”
Forest rubbed his little paws together. “Ready!” And then he squeezed his eyes shut and thought really hard about mending the wheel.
Percy looked at the sugar glider’s tiny scrunched-up face, then turned back to the wheel.
Merlynda described the Aether as strong but warm. It wasn’t something you controlled, as much as something (or perhaps someone) that offered its power. Percy never felt any of that, only magic. He focused on the Air around him, and the Earth beneath him for good measure, and pushed past the elements to the Aether—
This task is beneath you, Percival.
Sparks sputtered into the air, burning holes in the leaves on the forest floor. Percy yelped, stamping out a smoldering pile.
Forest had darted into Percy’s collar again. “Oops. I guess we’ve gotta practice more, huh?”
Panic squeezed through the tangle in Percy’s chest. His magic had almost started a fire. “Are you all right?” he asked the others.
Rafael patted himself down. “Yes. Are you?”
The haze fell across his vision. The wizard tried to keep his voice even. “Of course.”
Another memory of Morgan’s materialized. A party of some kind, outdoors in a meadow, festive but simple. As Percy—Morgan—approached, the cheerfulness stopped.
There was no Victoria. Strange, but Percy knew that this was many, many years after the familiar had arrived.
Morgan hadn’t intended to stumble upon a party, but it didn’t stop her from feeling a gleeful malice as she set the scene ablaze.
What was that for? Percy demanded. He shook his head, trying to clear the image of partygoers running from the flames.
What’s the use of power, if not to wield it? You need to embrace this part of you, Percival.
I’m not you!
“You’re distracted.” It felt like Rafael was offering an invitation, not demanding information. “I’m right, yes? We just met, but this whole time it’s like you’ve been somewhere else.”
Forest leaned out from his perch on Percy’s shoulder. “Anything your familiar can help with?” he asked his wizard.
“Grandmother always says it’s good to take a moment to sit with things,” Rafael encouraged.
Percy glanced between the sugar glider and the elf. He hadn’t been able to tell Merlynda about Morgan’s voice, but these two, who he’d just met? Forest probably knew that Percy had been the Hollower, given that he seemed to know everything about Merlynda’s quest. But Rafael, who apparently didn’t know who Percy was and what he’d done? Maybe telling them would be easier.
“It’s…” Percy searched for the right words as the memory haze faded. Full honesty might be a tad much, what with Morgan le Fey being the most dreaded villain in history.
He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. “Sometimes it feels like… like there’s someone else talking to me. In my head. Telling me I’m not a good person, or reminding me of my mistakes.”
“Ah.” Rafael understood what Percy meant (or at least, in a way he did). He pulled a lump of copper from his pocket and absently played with it, reshaping it with his magic to form a wagon, a cottage, a fox. “The Whispers Aggrievious. My grandmother says they speak our deep fears. They tell us, ‘Nobody likes me,’ or ‘I sounded so stupid just now,’ or ‘Everyone probably remembers that mistake I made months ago,’ or ‘What if the Northern Chapter can’t help me fix things?’ ”
“I know those whispers,” Forest said in a hushed voice. “I don’t like them.”
Percy didn’t understand the bit about the Northern Chapter, and wondered what voices Forest was hearing, but if Rafael had a way to stop Morgan’s whispers, he needed to know. “What do you do if… if it really feels like someone else is saying them? And you know it’s not you?”
Rafael chewed his bottom lip, thinking. He’d only talked with Grandmother about this before. “I put them into a Whisper Snare. In my mind.”
“Oh.” Percy deflated. “I was hoping to get them out of my mind.”
Rafael shaped the copper into a dragon. “I don’t think they ever go away completely. But my grandmother taught me how to tame them. Do you want to learn?”
“Absolutely,” Percy said.
Rafael pocketed his copper and sat next to the broken wheel. He gestured for Percy to do the same.
“First,” Rafael said, “I picture the Whisperer. Imagine their clothes, their hair, every detail. You can make them up. The point is to give the whispers an image.”
Percy didn’t have to make anything up. Morgan haunted him. It was more than her vicious eyes, her pale skin, and curly blond hair. It was how she’d carried herself when she’d used him to tear her way back from beyond the In-Between and into the Omnivia. Her casual cruelty. Her tinkling laughter that carried across spaces it shouldn’t have been able to fill, and how it echoed inside him. How she delighted in the pain of others.
He shuddered.
“Are you picturing the Whisperer?” Rafael asked.
Percy nodded.
“Excellent. Next imagine a crate or chamber or something next to them—that’s the snare. Make sure it can lock. It’s best if it’s made from something the Whisperer hates.”
“Mushrooms,” Percy heard Forest mutter, and the wizard’s heart softened. Forest might not have been sent from the Aether, but he’d left behind something. Or someone.
You actually think this elf might consider you, the Hollower, a friend?
But Morgan’s voice didn’t echo everywhere anymore. It came only from the Morgan le Fey he’d visualized. She was so much smaller now that he could see her.
You’re adorable, Percival, but this isn’t going to—
He ignored her. What was something she hated?
Everything. She hated him, and his sister, and all of their family members. She hated friendship, and kindness, and joyful parties in meadows.
She also hated defeat, and had been defeated twice at the Omnivia. An enormous stone pillar popped into his mind. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the stone, its shape, its weight.
This is useless, the whisper hissed. But Morgan seemed even smaller next to the towering Omnivia stone. He imagined another stone, and another. As many as he needed to form a room. He laid more stones on top, leaving a gap in the side for a door.
Percival!
The whisper was faint, but the rage was unmistakable.
“Got it,” Percy said, his eyes still shut. “I’m imagining it.”
“You’ve got the image of the Whisperer? And the Snare?”
“Yep.”
“Fantastic. Now shove the Whisperer inside the Snare and lock it.”
This nonsense is—
Percy didn’t wait to hear what this nonsense was. He imagined the purple light that formed the Concursus springing up across the doorway, then shoved Morgan inside and slammed another Omnivia stone down to block her way out. He thought about how grateful he was that Merlynda had come for him, and how much he loved her, and he used those feelings to cement the stones together.
He paused, listening. Waiting.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
He’d been holding his breath without knowing it. He exhaled, slowly.
Rafael raised an eyebrow. “The whispers are trapped, yes?”
Percy waited to hear the tinkling laughter, a voice telling him he’d failed—but there was nothing. He opened his eyes. “I think so?”
“Grandmother always knows.” Rafael grinned.
“Thank you.” Percy felt unburdened for the first time since the Omnivia. He could finally shut Morgan out, and maybe this would also stop the onslaught of her memories. He felt hope creeping into the tangle of fear and panic and dread he’d carried since Merlyn’s Grotto, loosening it.
Percy gave the still-concentrating Forest a little pat on the head. “Got your Whisper Snare all sorted as well? We’ve got a wheel to fix.”
Forest perked up. “Yeah! Magical wheel fixing! Normal wizard-and-familiar stuff!”
With a confidence he hadn’t felt in months, the wizard reached into the Air around him, sensing how it connected to the Aether and thrummed through the wheel, and Forest, and Rafael, and everything around them. He luxuriated in the feeling of it, the wholeness of it, the rightness of it.
He reached his hand out and pulled at the Aether. The wheel snapped back together, perfect. There weren’t even any seams or cracks.
Percy smiled. No sparks. No haze.
No whispers.
The sugar glider scampered over to the wheel. “That’s a fixed wheel all right!” He grinned at Percy.
In short order they had the wheel back on the cart, ready to go.
“Where are you headed?” Rafael asked.
“North,” Percy answered. “You?”
The elf grinned. “Leona and I are going north too! Come with us. It’ll make the road less lonely, yes?”
Percy considered. “What do you say, Forest?”
The not-familiar stood on his back legs. “I say, yes please, thank you very much!” They would get to ride! On a cart! Leona might still be his friend!
Leona, for her part, turned back to fuchsia.
Rafael clicked his tongue. “You don’t need to be so grumpy. You’ll have more people to feed you breadcrumbs and berries.” Not to mention, there was strength in numbers, and they might need some strength of the magical variety, given how much of a delay the broken wheel had caused.
A few minutes later Percy sat next to Rafael while Leona pulled them along. Forest perched on Percy’s head, which had quickly become his favorite spot. (“It provides the best view in case of ne’er-do-wells or other events requiring our magic.”) After Rafael had given Leona an extra apple, the plumara’s feathers had turned a deep navy, and they were off.
Rafael tsked and shook his head. “She’ll do anything for extra snacks.”
Leona honked in agreement.
Percy wondered if he should tell Rafael who he really was—the Hollower, though reformed. But it was nice to be treated like a regular person, to be appreciated for helping. He wondered what Merlynda would think.
Percy swallowed his guilt. He’d had no choice, but he’d disappeared again, vanished, been ripped away. He’d make it up to her. He’d stop the Shadowsoul and tell her about Morgan’s whispers and make sure she knew he’d do anything for her, just like she’d done for him.
They wound their way through the Howlwyn. Forest tried to endear himself to Leona by carrying tiny nuts and leaves up to the plumara, but whenever he approached, Leona’s feathers settled into fuchsia. The sugar glider sat on Percy’s head, gnawing unhappily on a twig while he plotted more friendship schemes.
Percy and Rafael settled into a game of magicking falling leaves (from the nonmagical trees) before they hit the forest floor. Percy reveled in feeling like his old self, before Morgan le Fey’s amulet had ever arrived, before he’d been snatched away into her clutches beyond the In-Between, and had given the darkness inside him free rein.
The wizard’s eye caught another fluttering leaf, and he magicked it into a small brass statue of Harriet, catching it as it fell. He laughed, delighted, then handed it to Rafael.
Rafael’s eyes went wide. “Is that a pony with a scorpion tail?”
Percy grinned. “That’s Harriet. She’s my pony back home.”
“Look at that detail! Are you sure your magic only just came of age?”
Before Percy could come up with an answer, an unnatural rattling swept across the forest, as though the trees were wind chimes. Leona disappeared.
Rafael said something that Percy was pretty sure was a curse in the elf’s other language, and gripped the reins tighter. “Hold on!”
He let out a shrill whistle, and the cart jolted forward. Percy jerked back in his seat. Forest tumbled into the air, but Percy snatched him just in time.
Forest’s big eyes went wider. “Wowie, Percy! You must’ve caught me so well because you’re my wizard!”
