Page 30 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
“The Wizard’s mercy is our only hope,” I finish. “Tell me more about the god-stars and their priests. I want to know everything.”
“I have conducted extensive research into the topic,” Riordan begins, and the quiet eagerness in his tone makes me smile.
We continue on together, while Riordan explains the lore of the god-stars, creators of the Fae and of all living things. He walks straighter and faster as he talks, and I draw closer to him, lured by my own curiosity, seduced by the inexhaustible fountain of his knowledge.
This is something no curse can change—this passion we share for investigation, for understanding. No wizard, god-star, or priest can ever sever that link between us—a connection beyond anything physical. A true marriage of minds.
11
The West Witch didn’t appear to me when I was alone, searching for the yellow brick road. I’d half hoped he would make good on his promise to come back and claim me. But I suppose someone like him has other business to deal with. He can’t always be lurking in the woods, trailing after me like a ravenous hound.
Why am I so much more interested in him than in my own blood-relative? Maybe once we get the cursed suit of armor off Riordan, I’ll be more inclined to speak to him and connect with him. To be fair, he doesn’t seem too interested in me, either. We’ve been traveling the yellow road for hours, judging by the angle of the sunlight through the trees—and he’s been absorbed in conversation with Alice the whole time.
The golden-haired, pretty-boy Scarecrow tried walking next to me for a while, but I glared at him until he understood the message and fell back to walk behind me. He and Fiero seem quite taken with each other. There’s a puppyish quality to the Scarecrow, a “please-let-me-follow-you-and-be-your-friend” look in his eyes whenever one of us glances at him. Obviously he can’t go back to the village that sacrificed him, and Alice invited him to come along, so we’re stuck with him for a while. Maybe he’ll be useful to distract the monster in this forest—provide it with a tender snack while the rest of us get away. Though I doubt Alice would agree to making use of her precious rescued puppy like that.
I suppose my emotions on the matter are rather Unseelie, but physically, I don’t feel Fae in the least. I feel human, and my feet hurt, and my magic still hasn’t quite replenished itself. Alice is still carrying the basket with the food, but I doubt she’ll let me eat any of it, since it’s contaminated by foul magic. So I’m starving as well.
“How far is it to the Emerald City?” I ask.
“That’s the trick of it,” says Riordan. “It takes as long to get there as the Green Wizard pleases. The length of the journey is different for everyone who follows his yellow roads.”
I dislike the sound of that. “And what if we walkbesidethe road? What then?”
“Only by following the road can you find the Emerald City,” he replies. “Otherwise the Wizard’s location will remain hidden from you.”
“That sounds like some very powerful magic.”
“It is.”
“Can we stop for a bit and rest?”
The Scarecrow, Jasper, speaks from behind me, his voice threaded with apprehension. “It’s nearly sunset. The beast will be roaming soon.”
“He prefers the night, yes. But now and then he roams in the daylight,” Riordan says. “His patterns are unpredictable. I should know—I spent weeks attempting to chart them. His form changes, too, depending on how great a threat he judges you to be. The best we can hope for is to make it through these woods without attracting his attention. If I had supplies, and if this armor didn’t block magic, I could craft something to disguise Alice’s fragrance—but as it is, I’m afraid he will scent her from miles away.”
“I could try a little magic,” Jasper offers. When I glance back, he’s holding Fiero in his arms, scratching behind his ears so gently that the little dog is melting, eyelids drooping and drowsy. “My illusions are weak, but I could disguise her scent a bit.”
“Do it then.” Riordan stops on the road so abruptly I nearly crash into him.
“No,” Alice protests. “IwantCaer to find me. I told you, I want to try to speak with him.”
“Speak with him?” Riordan scoffs. “You’ll be lucky if you get in a scream before he takes a mouthful of you.”
Alice glares at him, so potently that if she were Fae, the sheer power of her eyes might melt through his armor.
“Look at it this way,” Riordan says. “Shielding your scent, at least partly, might give you a chance—however unlikely—a veryslimchance of speaking with him before he kills us all.”
Alice shakes her head at him. “You’ve gotten so much worse. You used to have a little hope, and now—nothing.”
His voice from inside the helmet is cold and sharp. “It’s not as if I’ve had much to hope for, lately.”
“I suppose not.” She puckers her lips. “All right, I’ll do it. Jasper can disguise my scent, just for tonight.”
“Come here, then, lovely.” Jasper sets down Fiero and extends a hand to Alice, his smile warm as sunshine.
She goes to him with an answering smile. He cups her face between his hands and closes his eyes in concentration. There’s a warmth, an intimacy between them that wasn’t there before I left to look for the road. What were they doing while I was gone?
I scoop up Fiero and hold him to my chest while Riordan stands stiffly beside me.
