Page 126 of Down from the Tower

Pool of Truth

Lake Wonderland

The list goes on, making even less sense. Swanling is the unofficial name of the lake in Swan Lake. I’ve seen it countless times, usually when the princess of the kingdom is busy trying to shoo me away.

She’s a curious creature. Once upon a time we were friends, but we grew up and she stopped speaking to me. Then I died, and she had to keep living her life.

Now we rarely speak, the princess hiding her life behind a tangled web of lies.

“Doing some light reading?”

I snap the book closed as Zarev approaches. His hands are tucked in his pockets, his blade across his back. He looks tired, and I’m sure I do, too. There might be less spirits in the kingdom than expected, but that doesn’t mean the numbers are small. We’ve seen a great many dead today, all of whom came from distant lands. None of the spirits were ever occupants in Tressa.

Tucking it into my cloak, I shrug. “I found it.”

Zarev stares for a moment, his haunting red-orange eyes seeming to try and burn a hole through my cloak like he wants the book back. But he shakes his head, pacing past me. “One more check around the fountain and we can head back.”

“No one’s coming through,” I tell him, thinking of the mostly dry pool. It was leaking out, and Zarev advised against touching the water. If it’s cursed with gold, I have no interest in getting touched by it.

“Can’t hurt to check.”

I scoff, shaking my head before he jogs and jumps, slipping into the shadows. We can shift in this form but it’s faster to jump from one shadow to the next if you want to get someplace quickly. I sigh and follow him, ready to get on my way back to the tavern.

Ma will worry like she always does if I’m late, and I know my siblings stress if I’m away for a long time. It’s simply one of the burdens of being the oldest.

Zarev does a quick sweep of the clearing when we reach it. The guard who had been a rabbit is still lying there, the air heavy with death. And despite his searching, the so-called Cheshire cat is missing too.

Tressa belongs to the dead now and her secrets seem to have died with the royals.

I blow out a breath, watching Zarev’s eyes sweep the space once more. “We won’t find anything else here today. Let’s head back. Maybe Lucius will finally respond.”

Every day, Rapunzel calls our friend. He’s yet to answer the call of the seeing stone, which isn’t altogether unusual given Lucius’ disgust with most of the world. He can’t see anyway, so he wouldn’t be able to tell us for certain if someone who looks like Rapunzel ever visited his palace prison.

We’re just turning to jump back into the shadows when a great screech echoes across the land. In a single breath I have my bow and arrow, and Zarev is gripping his scythe. The cry is high and pained, like whatever creature is screaming is in great pain.

Our eyes meet, a silent agreement that we’ll observe the creature before reacting and going for a kill. There are a great many oddities in Mystica.

Across the sky, a swarm of birds passes overhead. It takes a moment to realize it’s a flock of swans, heading down the coast and across the sea towards hotter climates. I usually miss the migration because of all the work we do.

But something is wrong. These birds fly in no specific formation, their wings beating in panic. As I watch another creature crests over the distant treetops, climbing high into the sky as my eyes widen.

It’s a bird with a bright white chest surrounded by deep black feathers that look like knives. They gleam unnaturally in the light, and the creature’s neck twists unnaturally, letting out an explosive cry. The birds around it start to panic and fly in all directions. My eyes narrow, watching as the bird flaps about and ruins formation but doesn’t move to attack any of the birds that stray too close.

“What the hell is that,” I ask, notching an arrow. This thing is vicious, mad, and far too large to be a normal bird. I can’t make out much else at this distance, but the thing is uncontrolled in its movements. It lists left and right like it’s off balance.

“It looks mad,” Zarev supplies, scythe in hand. His weapon is going to do little from this distance, however we may be able to launch our shadow magic if need be.

I close one eye, tracking the beast across the sky. Finally its giant maw gets too close to one of the other birds, and its wide head snaps out to clamp over the body. It slices straight through the smaller bird, like biting off a chunk of an apple.

The bird it bites comes away missing its side and one wing. The poor thing plummets from the sky, disappearing into the trees in the distance.

The other creature spits out the wing, the missing limb shooting off in the opposite direction. I keep my eye on it.

“Don’t shoot unless it attacks us,” Zarev mutters.

“Do you think it’s from Wonderland?”

“Maybe. Or from Swan Lake. You know the rumors.”

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