Page 43 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
“He’s dangerous,” Riordan warns. “I don’t remember everything about the city, or the palace, or how he looked, or what he said to me before I made my wish. The encounter is blurred, which is no doubt what he intended. As I said—if he isn’t a god-star himself, he’s the devoted servant of one. And we will be entirely at his mercy. Once you are in his presence, you may not even remember the exact wording of the request you wished to make.”
I throw out my hands, an exasperated gesture. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Why visit this terrible person?”
“Because he’s their only hope,” Alice replies, her gaze on the man of metal and the hulking beast.
With a quick intake of breath, she forges ahead, moving past all of us, out of the gloom of the woods into the brilliant sunshine. Fiero scurries after her, and so do Jasper and the monster. Obedient dogs, the lot of them, trotting after their mistress.
Sighing, I move to follow them, but Riordan puts out his hand to stop me. “Don’t feel beholden to us, or obliged to wish for something,” he says. “We can find our own way. I’d rather not risk you making a wish that can be used to harm you. In fact it might be best for you to wait outside the palace with your little pet.”
His concern pierces the blankness of my emotional wall—stabs right through it, into the flesh of my heart—reminds me that I have one.
Riordan wakes me in a different way than the Witch does—stirs in me feelings of blood-loyalty, of family commitment, of security that I never felt with my parents.
I can’t be sure he has formed a familial attachment to me. But the tone of his voice seems to hint as much. And strangely, it makes me eager to return that bond, that loyalty, that concern.
“I should have acted more quickly last night,” I burst out. “I should have saved you from those awful visions faster.”
“The fact that you saved me at all is enough. I will repay it.”
He doesn’t thank me as a human would. He promises a fair exchange, and somehow I like that better.
“I’ll go with you into the Emerald City,” I tell him. “Whatever your fate may be, I want to witness it, and to help if I can.”
He makes a brief hum in his throat, a sound of assent and approval. “So be it.”
We walk together into the sun, and it feels right that I’m here, on this golden road, stepping into the flood of dazzling light with him, with my own blood, with someone who knows what I am, what I can do, and doesn’t fear me, because we are the same.
I blink against the brightness, and then I stop short.
The brick road twines between meadows, just as Riordan said—but they aren’t grassy—they’re blanketed with red flowers—poppies, I think, or the closest Fae equivalent. The sun glances through the petals, turning each one a vivid, translucent scarlet, like a pane of ruby glass. So thickly do the flowers grow that they nearly cover our path. Their stems arch over the yellow bricks, narrowing the way, lining it with banks of nodding crimson blooms.
Far in the distance, beyond the fields of poppies, rises the Emerald City—columnar towers of rich green against the blue sky.
My heart leaps at the brilliance of it all, at the sheer glorious color, so much brighter than anything in the human realm. This is the kind of beauty I’ve been craving all my life, though I didn’t realize it until the tornado of magic dropped me here.
A laugh bubbles up inside me, and I feel as incandescently joyful as when I first heard faerie music back in the Village of Crows. The buttery yellow of the road, the blood-red of the flowers, the bright green of the palace, and the impossible blue of the sky—I’m so happy I could scream.
Laughing breathlessly, I dance forward and drop to my knees amid the blossoms, inhaling their heavy, spicy fragrance. It’s so rich and sweet—I could breathe it in forever.
“It wasn’t like this before,” says Riordan, and I swear I canhearthe frown in his voice, though I’ve never seen his face.
“They’re flowers.” I pluck one of them, admiring the delicacy of the petals. “What harm could they do?”
“This is Faerie. The loveliest things are usually the most dangerous.”
“You worry too much.” I glance ahead to where Alice, the monster, and the Scarecrow have paused to wait for us. As I watch, Jasper bends and lifts Fiero, who looks strangely limp.
Fear clutches my heart, stealing the joy as swiftly as it came. Jumping to my feet, I hurry forward and take my dog from Jasper’s arms. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. He simply… fell over.” Jasper looks up at me, my own concern mirrored in his lovely blue gaze.
For some reason his anxiety infuriates me.
“He’s not yours to worry about,” I snap. “He’s mine.”
Jasper withdraws a step, hurt pooling in his eyes—but then sympathy replaces it, and he smiles at me with soft understanding. “You’re right. I’ve been taking him from you too often. He’s adorable, and I let myself become enamored, I’m afraid. It’s a bad habit of mine.”
His gentle comprehension makes me angrier still. The rage is a poisoned lash inside me, rising too fast for me to plan a reaction or summon my usual mask. Words spill from my lips in a venomous tide. “I don’t need your understanding or your empathy. I just need you to leave my dog the fuck alone. Why do you have to be sogoodandgentleall the time? Why are you even with us? You serve no purpose and you want nothing from the Wizard. Go on your way! No one’s keeping you here.”
