Fragile Destiny (The Aether Chronicles) Read online

  Cake? Perhaps. Actually, Noli liked that idea.

  Also, she still felt odd, like she hadn’t fully recovered from the illness Brogan had given her back on her brother’s airship, the Vixen’s Revenge, when she’d refused to hand over the piece of artifact that she’d kept. Her brother Jeff’s crew, hired by Brogan, had stolen fragments of the artifact from museums across the country. But instead of letting Jeff deliver the pieces to Brogan—since Noli knew Brogan was up to no good—she’d given them to Kevighn Silver, who’d promised to hide them once again.

  Yet, on an impulse, she’d kept a piece of the artifact for herself. As insurance.

  This she hadn’t mentioned to V, since he had other things to deal with—like Brogan, his father’s death, and the fact that Quinn, their tutor, and Elise, their little sister, had gone missing and had yet to be found.

  The artifact. All the pieces made up one single, powerful artifact so dangerous it had been expelled to the mortal realm long ago. However, she had a feeling there was something else she was supposed to remember about it. But every time she almost did, it slipped away like a will-o’-the-wisp.

  V’s voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. “You don’t wish to stay and help us look through journals?” His green eyes went wide with disappointment.

  No. Not particularly. Really she should assist him, since he was trying to figure out what the artifact was. If only she could remember.

  You think too much, the sprite chided.

  “I don’t blame you. The house is creepy now.” James’ face screwed up in distaste. “We need to eat. Besides, while Noli’s out she can check and see if we’ve received any aethergraphs. Perhaps Quinn’s trying to get in touch with us.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’m very worried about them since we haven’t gotten word.” V looked from his brother to his house and back again, his lips pressing tight, then releasing. His blond hair didn’t quite lie flat, a lock hanging in eyes, which were green like oak leaves. “You know where to find us. James and I should get started.”

  James made a barf-face. “Could you get us something good for supper? Please?”

  Noli laughed. “Like what, cake?”

  His green eyes lit up like a basket of wood faeries. “Yes, chocolate cake.”

  “We can’t—” Wait. Why couldn’t they have cake for supper? There were no parents here. Not anymore. It would also make the sprite happy.

  Cake, cake, cake, cake, the sprite chanted.

  Fine, we’ll have cake for supper, she laughed. “We can’t have cake without tea, so if I’m to make it to the shops before they close, I should be going.” Not that she wanted to go back into town, to have to explain her reappearance, but James was right, they needed to eat.

  Crossing the space between them, V straightened her hat. “Could you please get us more than cake and tea, please? I’ll give you money. Will you be all right shopping by yourself?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve spent my entire life running around this town alone.” Well, not quite, but she was used to being independent and his lack of confidence in her made her bristle.

  “I know.” He gave her a lopsided grin in apology. “See you soon.”

  Before she could answer, his lips met hers. His arm snaked around her waist, bringing her chest to his. She deepened their kiss, holding on to him as if any moment he might float away.

  “I’ll be inside,” James muttered behind them.

  V touched his forehead to hers as he broke off their kiss. “Hurry back.”

  “I’ll probably be at my house, cleaning up so we have places to sleep.” Her finger traced his cheekbone. She let go of him and watched as V entered his house, then climbed up the familiar front stairs of her own home and turned the doorknob. Locked.

  Walking around the house, she tried the back door, which was never locked. But the door didn’t open. Hmm. Grandfather Montgomery must have locked it when he’d helped her mother move to Boston. Noli hoped her mother was finding happiness there, since she hadn’t found much in Los Angeles after her husband vanished.

  Seven years ago, Noli’s father had disappeared while in San Francisco, helping to rebuild the city after a devastating earthquake. Even though there’d been no word all these years, Noli still clung to the idea that her father was alive and would someday return to them.

  She gazed up at her bedroom window, which was on the second floor. She’d scaled it before.

  Why don’t we use magic? the sprite supplied.

  Oh, I could do that, couldn’t I? I just put my hand on it and ask it to open? That’s what V always did. The idea of using magic was still so strange to her.

  I think so, the sprite replied.

  Noli put her hand on the metal knob. She envisioned an invisible key turning inside the mechanism. Open. The lock clicked. When she turned the knob, the door opened without resistance.

  She entered the dark kitchen and put her valise on the table. On a scrap of paper she jotted down what they needed: Food. Tea. Cake. Milk. Sugar. Candles.

  Then she gazed around the sparkling clean kitchen. It hadn’t been this way when she’d left. She opened the

  cupboards—the everyday dishes were there, but the china and silver were gone. Startled, she ran into her mother’s sewing room. The only thing that remained was a box half-filled with odds and ends and the steam-powered sewing machine she’d built. The sitting room, also clean, lacked the portraits on the walls and Mama’s special keepsakes—and the piano.

  Noli plopped down in a worn floral chair, the familiar musty scent wafting around her. Oh. Grandfather probably had someone pack up Mama’s things and take them to Boston. The clock struck and she stood. She should get the market basket and be off. There’d be time to explore the house later.

  Pulling her green cloak closer, Noli hurried down the street, basket on her arm. She wished she could hoverboard, since it would be much faster. It was probably early December by now … she’d lost track of time. V and James had put her in a tree for a while, to heal her from the illness Brogan had given her, and time between the mortal realm and the faerie realm ran a little differently in general—and not in a way that made sense. At least to her.

  A display of gloves caught her eye as she walked past the milliner’s shop.

  Can we go inside? Please? the sprite pleaded. She liked pretty gloves.

  We can—but only for a few moments. Perhaps they had net gloves, like the ones she’d gotten on the Vixen’s Revenge. She’d like to get some in colors other than black to match her different dresses.

  A bell tinkled when she entered. The store wasn’t empty and the shop girl seemed busy. Noli looked at the gloves on display—silk, kidskin, lace, ones covered in pearls or embroidery. None were net. Pity.

  “Noli, is that you? Noli Braddock?” a voice screeched from behind her.

  Noli winced. Of course she’d be here. Turning around, Noli plastered on a fake smile, greeting the two women she least wanted to see. “Why hello, Missy, Mrs. Sassafras.”

  Missy Sassafras’ dull brown eyes widened and a smirk twitched on her lips. “My, what an unusual dress you have on.”

  “I think it’s rather lovely. Your mother’s work? It looks quite comfortable. Green looks so nice on you.” Mrs. Sassafras smiled kindly at Noli. She always reminded Noli of an apple dumpling—round and ordinary. The fact that Mrs. Sassafras preferred to dress in mousy brown to match her hair and eyes never helped. Missy, on the other hand, always reminded Noli of a peacock. Loud, proud, and full of bright colors. Also, some girls weren’t meant to wear bustles. Missy was one of them.

  “I think it looks like a peasant’s dress,” Missy continued. “But isn’t that what you are, really? Is that a corset on the outside of your dress?” Her thin lips curved into a sneer.

  Peasant? What century was Missy living in? Noli looked at Mrs. S
assafras, who turned pink but didn’t scold her daughter. She never did.

  Bristling, Noli placed her hands on the corset. “It’s a popular fashion in court.”

  “Court where?” Missy tossed her head as if she were a horse.

  Noli stopped mid-breath. It wasn’t as if she could tell Missy it was all the rage in the Otherworld, since most mortals had no idea that faeries—and the realm of Faerie—existed. Or that what they called aether was actually magic leaking into their realm from the Otherworld.

  “France,” Noli replied instead. That’s what her mother always said when trying to coerce a customer at her dress shop into trying something new. She itched to get away from Missy.

  Missy rolled her eyes. “I haven’t seen it in any magazines.”

  “It’s too new,” Noli returned, feeling as if she were playing verbal Mintonette. “V’s aunt was telling me all about it when we had tea with her earlier today.” Lies. Aunt Dinessa had been telling them about gardening. Even though Brogan hadn’t been home when they’d gone to the earth palace, his sister had insisted they stay for tea.

  “Oh, Steven Darrow is back in town?” Missy took out her fan and fluttered it. The sparkle in her eyes turned accusing as her fan snapped shut. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Boston with your mother?”

  Mrs. Sassafras waved her gloved hand. “Oh, are you in town for the ball? Do you think your mother would have time to make some alterations to Missy’s dress? Perhaps you should come to call; Missy has developed a new recipe for scones.”

  Missy and her blasted perfect scones. Did she have no other hobbies?

  “The Christmas ball?” Noli blinked. Surely that much time hadn’t passed.

  Ball? I want to go. We’re supposed to go, right? The sprite bounced around the inside of her head.

  “I don’t think Noli would be invited to the museum’s ball,” Missy simpered before she had a chance to silently answer the sprite.

  I don’t like her, she’s mean, the sprite replied.

  That Missy was. The Sassafrases weren’t that rich and the money they had was recent. In Boston they’d be looked down upon as nouveau riche.

  Missy, however, enjoyed putting on airs. Yes, Boston society would eat her alive. If Noli were a lesser person, she’d get Missy sponsored for the season there, just so she could watch her squirm. However, that would mean enduring it herself. She’d rather eat gears.

  “I’m sure your Steven has an invitation.” Mrs. Sassafras patted her arm. “Besides, you look as if you’re doing well.”

  “Mama’s fine. She’s remaining in Boston; I’m still here to take care of some … unfinished business.” Yes, that sounded acceptable. Noli tried to capture the shop girl’s attention so she could leave.

  Missy touched the tip of Noli’s ear and giggled. “You really should visit that doctor in Europe.”

  Noli flinched as if burned. Being a sprite had given her ears a slight point. Usually she was able to cover them with her hair.

  “May I help you?” The shop girl finally hustled over.

  Thank goodness. One more moment and she’d smack Missy with her market basket. “Yes, do you have any net gloves?”

  “Do you mean lace, miss?” The shop girl’s face contorted in confusion.

  “No, I mean net, like, well … a net, only it’s finer and softer.” She should have brought a pair so she could show the shop girl what she meant.

  The shop girl shook her head, lips puckering. “No, miss. We have nothing like that here. I’m not even sure where you’d look … ”

  Missy tittered in the background as she tried on a hat with a birdhouse on it. “Net gloves, truly?”

  “Well, I do appreciate your help.” Noli smiled at the girl. She gave the other ladies a curt nod. “Mrs. Sassafras, Missy,” and left the shop and hustled down the street, waving at a car flying overhead, simply because.

  Ugh. Missy was such a social-climbing dollymop.

  Noli strode into the bakery. “I need a really large chocolate cake.”

  Mr. Benson, the baker, smiled at her from behind the glass counter as he wiped his hands on his white apron. “Did you have that bad of a day, Noli?”

  “I just ran into Missy Sassafras.” She eyed the trays of colorful confections. “I’d like the big chocolate cake in the front, the one with the candied cherries on top.”

  Yes, that one, the sprite agreed.

  Noli’s favorite cake wasn’t found here in the mortal realm, but chocolate was just fine with her—and the sprite.

  Her eyes traveled from the cakes and pastries to the cookies. “I’d also like a dozen—”

  “Cookies with chocolate on top, of course.” He laughed. “For your mother?”

  Mama had always kept them in her dress shop for her customers. The shop wasn’t far. Noli should check on it—if it was even still there.

  “Mama’s in Boston, I’m going to eat these all by myself.” Noli’s mouth watered at the thought as he packaged up the cookies and cake.

  Cake, cake, cake, the sprite got excited.

  Yes, cake. Noli did like cake, but those cookies were her favorites and had been such a rare indulgence. She couldn’t wait to eat every single one herself. Perhaps she’d share with the boys. Maybe.

  “I’d heard you’d moved back east,” the baker replied as he packed up the pastries. “Are you here getting the last few things out of your house before the new owners take over?”

  Noli nearly dropped her basket in shock. “Yes, of course,” she lied.

  Her heart thumped in her chest. Grandfather had sold their house?

  The bag of cookies went in the basket, but the cake box didn’t quite fit. Perhaps she should have gone there last. A hoverboard would be useful—or asking James to drive her, since Mr. Darrow owned an auto. Oh well. She’d just have to balance carefully.

  As she bought tea, tinned milk, sugar, crackers, and tins of food at the greengrocer, all she could think of was that soon some other family would move into her house. Other children would play in her tree house. Sleep in her room.

  When Papa finally came home, he’d find some other family living there.

  She walked past her mother’s dress shop, which was closed and dusty, as if no one had been inside in ages. A faded note said closed until further notice.

  Sniffing, Noli made her final stop at Mr. Thompson’s General Store.

  “Are there any aethergraphs for Magnolia Braddock, or Steven or James Darrow?” she asked Mr. Thompson as she bought some candles.

  He shook his head and handed her the parcel. “No, I’m sorry, Noli.”

  “Oh.” She stuffed it in the basket and shuffled back to the house, shoulders rounded in defeat.

  Are we going to the ball? the sprite asked. We should go and be prettier than Missy. We’re always prettier than Missy, but now we can be especially prettier.

  Part of her wanted to, even though she’d normally rather do homework than attend a ball. I don’t think we’ll have time she answered. The sprite pouted, but didn’t reply.

  Noli walked through the back door into the kitchen, set the cake on the counter, and unpacked her basket. Through the window over the sink she could see pinks and oranges streaking the sky as darkness fell.

  Sold. The house had been sold. Had her mother packed up her room? Noli put the kettle on to boil, took down the old teapot since the nice one was gone, grabbed her valise, and trudged upstairs to see what state the rest of the house was in.

  Her room looked exactly the same as when she’d left, complete with the discarded pile of clothes on the bed. She set her valise on the desk and fingered the half-finished ball gown her mother had been making for her to wear to the Christmas Ball.

  We could wear that, the sprite said. I think we can finish it.

  Perhaps, if we were going, but I don’t think we are. Right n
ow we have work to do. She needed to tidy up so everyone had a place to sleep. Noli put away the dresses and everything else she’d left behind the night she’d fled with Jeff. She had joined the crew of the Vixen’s Revenge instead of going to Boston with her mother and grandfather like a good little society girl. Really, she had everything she needed from here. Perhaps. At least her valise was magic and she could tuck plenty inside if necessary.

  She changed the linens on her bed, then went into Jeff’s room to freshen those. James could stay in there. The room was barren of personality, more a guest room than her brother’s, though they had a guest room too. One day after Jeff had left to become an aeronaut—well, an air pirate—their mother had stormed in and thrown out most of his things, leaving only the furniture and a few books.

  Had her mother’s things all been packed up? Noli peeked into her mother’s room. That, too, seemed empty of everything personal. Her forehead furrowed as she spied an open suitcase lying on the inexpertly made bed. A suitcase

  filled with clothes that didn’t look like her mother’s. A cup sat on the nightstand. Was someone here?

  A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped.

  “Noli, I’m so glad you haven’t left yet. When we arrived this morning, we thought we’d missed you and you’d already returned to fairyland.” Jeff stood behind her, a large grin on his face, chin scraggly with whiskers as usual. Her older brother looked even more like her father than he did just a few days—or was that weeks—ago, right down to the cleft in his chin.

  “Vix needs to make you shave. Air pirates don’t need to be unkempt.” Standing on tiptoe, she gave her brother a kiss on the cheek, wrapping her arms around him. Vix was Jeff’s fiancée. She was also a fearsome air pirate and captain of the Vixen’s Revenge. Jeff was her pilot.

  “What fun is that?” Jeff teased.

  “You must have received my aethergraph,” Noli said. The last time they’d come to the mortal realm—when they’d found Mr. Darrow’s body—she’d aethergraphed her mother and brother to let them know she was all right.