Chapter 10
"God." Was all Sky could bring himself to stammer, a thousand thoughts and more whizzing through his mind. Doubled over, fighting to regain her breath, Darcy wheezed an explanation. As she talked, Griffin bound Valtor with a spell, rejoicing in his irate mumblings.
"I went…to see Riven," she gasped, straightening up a little. "in town. I thought…it was him who texted me. It was Allie, uh, Mandragora. When Riven left, he went to see you, Sky. He said you texted him?"
"No, I didn't," Sky murmured, guiltily racking his brain, searching for where Riven might be now.
"Carry on, Darcy," Griffin said, her voice uncharacteristically soft, careful, even.
"When he left, I went outside and she cornered me. I don't know what happened after that, when I woke up she was gone. Riven never came back, so I came straight here." Darcy's voice was flat, her face white.
"God," Sky repeated, playing distractedly with the tassel on his cloak.
"What do we do?" Stella exclaimed, leaping from her seat into a vivacious stance. Wave upon wave of muttering echoed around the room, finally resting between Faragonda and Sky. They shared a look, deciding in a few fleeting seconds, but it was Icy who voiced the plan first.
"We go after them," she announced, her voice as hard and cold as it ever was, eyes set in stone. The remaining fairies chorused their agreement emphatically, and Saladin nodded sagely.
"We'll have to go now," Dorothy said, the concern in her eyes giving away her total lack of confidence in Bloom's safety.
"Agreed. I'll get the ship, B, did you leave it outside?" Sky asked Brandon, who nodded silently. Sky bustled out.
"Will everyone please return to their dormitories immediately," Faragonda called calmly across the room. The fairies complied immediately, clearing the room of all except the three professors, a bound and wriggling wizard, Brandon, the Whisperian Queen and her three daughters. Silently, too stunned and confused for words, the company filed outside, where Sky waited for them, ship bay doors open wide. Faragonda had taken over Valtor duty, and gestured a hand that led him, in his binds, into a small corner of the ship, a circular cell with a sliding glass door. She shut it on him with a great deal of satisfaction.
Everyone on board, with Griselda left in charge of Alfea, the ship departed. The nearest entrance point to Obsidian sat, dormant, in Sparx' frozen wastelands, so they sailed smoothly over hills and plains and forests and cities, letting the cool breeze carry them swiftly forward, towards a great unknown looming tall above them all. Hours passed in what felt like days, nerves shivered on edge throughout.
The landscape was beautiful, pristine and lovely, as if unaware of the bitter fighting about to take place on its very surface. As they soared, however, most of the natural wonder went unnoticed, replaced instead by fever-pitched anxiety in the hearts of every single person aboard that ship. Icy shifted, eventually, when the fairies and Company were occupied with a plan of action, to the space besides Darcy, dabbing at the drying blood staining her face.
"You okay?" Icy asked gently.
"Yeah," Darcy choked. "Also, hearing you say that is like a historic event, y'know." Icy sneered, chuckling and grinning.
"I know. It doesn't suit me," Icy mused, "so, when we get there…"
"What do we do?" offered Darcy, nodding as if she had been thinking the same thing.
"Exactly." Icy confirmed.
"We fight them. We're witches, it's what we do. And, apparently, we're also princesses, and they don't back down." Darcy said, almost as if she were amused by the prospect. Icy smiled, a storm brewing inside her.
They remained quiet for the rest of the journey, only stirring when the ship shook, bouncing as it touched onto the crisp blanket of snow. The doors whooshed open, releasing the group onto the dusty snow beneath. The archway, dancing with blacks and blues, stood ten feet away, screaming out them to stay away.
"You ready?" Griffin whispered to the witches, who hardened their faces and nodded firmly. Without giving them a chance to change their minds, Griffin and Faragonda led the rest of Company, and the Winx, through the portal.
The Trix stayed behind for a moment. The last time they had been inside Obsidian, they had been prisoners, prisoners in their own home. It was the only home they could ever remember having, and now they returned to fight alongside their sworn enemies, exacting vengeance upon the only semblance of a mother they had, until recently, ever had.
Collectively, they took a deep breath, resisting the urge to take each other's' hands, as they full well knew the Winx club would.
Once more, unto the breach.