before she sidled up beside me. “You’re shivering, Liza.”
It was cold underground. I hadn’t noticed. I sat up to put an arm around Allie, and this time she didn’t stop me. “You’re shivering, too,” I said.
“I know. I—” Allie’s voice caught, steadied. “What Nys did to me. That was glamour?”
“Yes.” My eyes searched the dark. I knew I wouldn’t hear Nys, or Elin, or any of the faerie folk coming, but I could see them as I saw Allie.
“When he called me. The things I felt—the things I wanted …” Allie hunched over.
“I know.” I smoothed her tangled hair.
“No one should have magic like that,” Allie said fiercely. “Or if they have it, they shouldn’t use it. I can’tbelieve Caleb and Karin ever used glamour, not even during the War, no matter what they say. Karin.” Allie drew a troubled breath. “Do you think she’s all right?”
“I don’t know.” The look in Karin’s eyes, the sounds she’d made …
It is worse, so much worse than before
, she’d said.
Roots crumble, branches fall
. I thought of clouds of ash and dust, of the stale scent in the air, of Karin saying she’d met that scent before, after the War.
It meant the land was gravely wounded
. What if the War and Faerie were where the crumbling began? What if humans did worse than burn people and trees when they sent their fire? I drew the mirror from my pocket. The glass within the broken case felt cracked as well. In the dark, it offered up no visions. I pried loose the largest shard I could find. A weak weapon, but I had none better.
“I
can
feel it,” Allie said abruptly.
“Feel what?”
“The seed. It’s only a whisper, but there’s something in there. Something that has to do with my magic. That makes no sense. My magic isn’t for plants, only people and animals. But there’s a whisper of something human here. Like a memory.”
“That’s good.” Maybe the seed would protect her after all. “Keep it safe.”
“I will,” Allie said soberly. “I can feel other things, too. You need to know that. Remember the sickness in the air? The last time we were in Faerie?”
“Radiation poisoning.” Even if they weren’t responsible for the crumbling, the fires my people sent did harm enough. Their poison remained in Faerie’s air long after the War was through, just as blood-seeking trees and raptors with poison in their claws remained in my world.
“It’s better belowground than above, but it’s down here, too. The air is all wrong—I don’t know how the faerie folk have survived so long. They really are harder to hurt than we are. We won’t survive anywhere near that long, not unless—” Allie sighed. “We’re in an awful lot of trouble, aren’t we, Liza?”
My eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the dark. I’d never met darkness this deep. “I’ll do all I can to protect you.”
“I’ll protect you, too,” Allie said. “I’m still your healer, and I’m not a little kid anymore. I’ll do everything I can.”
Radiation poisoning was much more dangerous to heal than a broken leg. “Don’t do anything that puts you in danger. Promise?”
“I’ll promise if you will.” Allie laughed a little, but then she sighed again. “Everything’s dangerous here, isn’t it?”
Very close, Nys’s voice answered, “Indeed.”
I scrambled to my feet, putting myself between Allie and that voice, ignoring the dull ache that returned to my hip. I saw no shadow to tell where Nys stood. “Show yourself.” I reached toward the voice, and my knuckles brushed smooth stone that hadn’t been there before.
Rough laughter then. The stone melted away, and a shadow appeared before me. I lunged at it, mirror shard in my hand, aiming for what I hoped were Nys’s eyes. I missed, and the glass grazed skin before breaking in my hold.
Nys’s fingers closed around my other hand, my stone hand. Fingers that hadn’t moved for five months wrapped obediently around his, and warmth tingled