Chapter Four
There was a soft rustling from the hallway before Alex, and soon Candock appeared, followed by the elderly man.
Alex smiled hopefully, almost laughing at Rigamaron, for she had left just in time not to see Alex's waiting pay off.
"Alowan," Candock said, bowing a little, and then starting as she noticed the glowing form at Alex's shoulder.
"You have a Fae," she said softly.
"Yes—Rigamaron gave it to me," Alex said, emphasizing the strange girl's name. Her heart jumped a little then, as she remembered that, because the girl had left, she had no way to get the Fae for Nihl.
"Hhn," Candock said. There was a slight pause, and then the fair haired girl continued to speak
"Your friend is sleeping now."
"Is he alright?" Alexandra asked anxiously.
Candock looked back at the elderly man with a worrisome glance.
"He is very ill," the man admitted gently.
Alex bit her lip so quickly that she was unconscious of any pain. She was remembering that Nihl had said that he was searching for something—and she suddenly wanted to know what it was.
"Will you tell me when I can talk to him?" she asked.
"Hhn hhn," Candock said, shuffling forward. "For now, you must come with me. I will show you to your guest room—ah… Pardon—may I ask your name?"
"Alexandra," Alex replied, feeling a little tired at the mention of "room", which made her think of "bed" and "sleep".
"Hhn, Alexandra," Candock said, and, with a gentle nod, started down the hallway which Rigamaron had come from.
"But… you can call me Alex," she said, walking after the other girl, for the first time revealing her nickname in that foreign place.
"Ah… Alex, then? Hhn hhn," Candock said, with a pleasant smile.
Tired as she was, this smile warmed Alex very well.
Perhaps world hopping isn't such a bad thing once one gets used to it.
The faint jingling of tiny bells seemed to echo through her mind as Alex opened her eyes.
She looked around her, groggy, but aware… aware of the dark grey, stone built room, aware of the thin mat beneath her, aware of the bright blue, "doorless" doorway beside her…
Finally her memories came fully to her, her old life rehashed itself, her thoughts collected, and she remembered altogether who she was, what she was doing, and where she wanted to be at.
She sat up and felt the breast pockets of her coat—which still held the magic rings. Green right, yellow left. Or was it the other way around? Green left, yellow—
"Hello, Alexandra!"
The cheerful, high-pitched voice of Rigamaron assaulted Alex's thoughtful isolation with obvious delight at the pronunciation of her own name.
"Hi," Alex replied, a bit dazed, looking up to see Rigamaron in the open doorway.
Her Fae were fluttering around her, not hidden behind the fan like before. As Alexandra sat there on the mat (her new, temporary bed), she realized that the faint jingling noise was the Fae. It was not really bells—nor "jingling" per say—it was like speech, like the little natural things of creation all put together—trickling brooks, the dripping of melting icicles, flowers or fields swaying in the breeze, whistling wind in trees… The little sprites were speaking!
Alex, a bit pensive about the wonderful creatures, also remembered hers, and turned to look at it.
It was the most wonderful thing to her—to see that it had turned a faint shade of maroon purple—resembling the color of her jacket!
For a moment she was quite elated, as this was one of her favorite colors, and it seemed to be so perfectly silly and yet nice that it had turned that exact color. But obviously the other girl didn't share in her ecstasy. Alexandra shook away the surprise and stood.
"What is it?" she asked (restraining from her usual "What's up?").
"The Fae! We are going to give it to your friend, remember?" Rigamaron laughed.
"Oh—" Alex said, very pleased that the other girl, had, after all, remembered her wish.
"Do you know about him… if he's awake?" she asked, following Rigamaron out of her bedroom.
"Yes, I think so," she laughed. "Or he ought to be, at least. I heard that you both slept for most of the day!"
"Huh?" Alex grunted.
"It wasn't even noon when I met you, and now it is evening. Lovely evening…" Rigamaron said, as though she were more talking to herself than anyone else (or perhaps to her hovering Fae?).
"Oh," Alex said, feeling more refreshed—but not ready to go back to bed yet, as that seemed to be what was coming after "evening". This time changing… it was sort of like Jetlag. She smirked a bit to herself. First from the United States, then to Britain, then to… wherever and whatever this new world was.
As they walked through the hallway, Alex couldn't help worrying about Nihl again. Wasn't it strange, that, though he could have come from a whole different time and place than her, that they had both happened to be in the strange wood at the same time? And it was all her idea to travel through the pools, and now… suppose that he— But she couldn't think of that.
They were soon approaching the place at which she had stood waiting for Candock and the elderly man, all to be whisked away to her new bedroom, where she had promptly fallen asleep. Not much seemed to have been accomplished on her part lately, so she was getting rather desperate to show up and present a Fae to Nihl. Perhaps it would help him heal? She earnestly wished so.
She was back to the round of forcing he blame on her bringing him there when she found herself nearly crashing into Rigamaron in front of the three hallways.
She stuck out her heel to avoid a large collision and swiveled sot of military-style toward the hallway where Nihl ought to be, or somewhere down it…
Rigamaron laughed as she saw Alex's lack of concentration on where she had been going.
"Are you going in yourself?" she asked, using an olive-colored hand to gently push her only tiny, glowing Fae toward Alex.
"Well…" Alex started.
"Go on. Follow her, sprite," Rigamaron said, gently waving at the air, so that the Fae, which had been hovering hesitantly, fluttered after Alex.
"You can come with me if you want," Alex said, secretly wishing that the other girl would.
"Oh no. Go on yourself," Rigamaron said with a laugh, petting the large purple and red Fae she had called "Chuwachun".
Alex walked slowly toward the dark hallway, ever so carefully turned the corner, and… found herself in another hallway. She began walking down this hallway (which was rather short), which had about two doorways in it. Both were open—which reminded Alexandra of the strange lack of doors in the place. The only doors were on the outside of the building, or at least, those were the only ones she had seen yet.
She carefully peered into both doorways, and at first saw nothing to rave of. The first room contained a mat, a blue stool (like the ones in the dining room) and a strange, long, thin bag that was so ragged glimpses of something shiny showed through the sides. It was very shadowy, so she didn't catch what was in the corners.
The next room, at first glance, was also fairly empty. It was wider to the right, so she started looking in at the convenient left side, which contained not much more than a table cluttered with a few bottle and vials, and a stack of blankets. She was about to pass by when her heart suddenly scrambled awkwardly as though it had missed a beat.
A voice had called her name—a soft, breathy voice.
She stepped into the room.
Laying on a mat in one of the dark corners at the right was Nihl.
She couldn't see him very well as she walked forward, almost afraid to come too close. But she was on a mission—of a sort—and she knew that she ought to be able to overcome her fear.
She bit her lip as he turned on his side from where he was lying and faced her. He looked as though he were shivering—yet he was covered with many thick blankets.
She felt as though she had a rather large presence beside him, but she couldn't think of what it was, until she realized that the two Fae at her shoulders were glowing.
She felt she ought to kneel close to him—as though his quiet voice signified that she also should be silent, and close to him so that he could hear her.
"Have you ever seen one of these before?" she asked, gently nudging the unclaimed Fae toward him with her open palm.
It fluttered slowly forward until it was just close to his face, lighting his pale features.
His breathing seemed to come in a gasp as his light eyes watched it with fascination. He did not speak, but reached out his hands to pull it to him. This time it came willingly, as if knowing that it was meant for him, and settled close to his shoulder.
His breathing became more calm.
"Thank you."
She realized he had spoken.
"Yes—" she started, and somehow felt like she was losing his attention. She quickly, almost randomly added; "Is there anything you need?"
She wanted to say more, but the words wouldn't quite come off her tongue.
He closed his eyes.
"No."
She found herself speaking again, and couldn't seem to hold back.
"But you said you were looking for something…"
His eyes opened again, as if she had reminded him of something significant that he had forgotten.
"Yes—" he said, but then shivered, and pulled the blanket over him closer.
For a moment there was nothing at all to be heard but the soft fluttering of the Fae wings.
Alex felt glued to the ground, and stiffly stood, her knees feeling sore. It hadn't seemed like a long time she had been there, but now she wanted out of that, dark, foreboding place.
She walked backward, watching Nihl lie there with his glowing Fae resting between his neck and shoulder, shuddering a little, like him.
Had she done the right thing?
She turned, hoping that she might find one of her kind hosts to help Nihl, and then—
She almost screamed, but any noise she might have made seemed hopelessly caught in her throat. Her grey-blue eyes grew wide as she recognized the dark haired youth that had sat at the table that morning.
His dark brown eyes, almost black, seemed hardly to waver from meeting her gaze beneath his stringy hair. But then he cast his gaze down.
Horribly unexpectedly, she felt a rough hand grasp hers and press something thin and stiff into her palm.
She stood frozen, as she watched him dart away.
Moments later she wondered if he had been there at all—though her heart was beating so fast, and her eyes were so wide, that if it was not real, then it was a ghastly nightmare.
But looking down at her hand, she realized that, crushed in her fist, was a small piece of parchment.
She unraveled it and straightened it into reading order.
The writing was almost illegible it was so crudely done. The ink was still wet, and had smeared.
It read: Meet on moon hill, deep night. Tell no one. I know cure for boy.