Chapter 31

There the daggers rested, the light hitting them like starlight hits ice. Tucked beneath them was a note, the edges browned by age or fire. I giggled as I imagined Planeto trying to tuck the note into the small parcel, and singing the small sheet with a tiny jet of fire. The thought sent a snort of restrained glee through me, earning a disapproving glare from Felicity. I shrugged at her, then returned my attention to the Planeto’s parcel.

      The note simply read ‘I was mistaken.

Use them well, and serve with honor. ~ The Wandering Star.’

      “Mistaken?” I murmured to myself. As far as I knew, Planeto didn't make mistakes. We were all mortal, though… I looked up suddenly.  “Was there anything else?  Anything at all?”

       Felicity hesitated.

       “What is it?” I asked urgently,  practically pouncing on her. “What did he say?”

        She exhaled slowly. “He told me that something felt wrong, and to help in any way I could.”

       My eyebrows lifted in incredulity. “Help me? You hate me.”

       She laughed sarcastically. “I know you're new to Fableland, so I'll help you out; when a dragon tells you to do something or when they give you advice, you listen.  No ifs, ands, or buts. Dragons know better than most, and it's extremely rare to have a dragon give someone advice, much less give you a package to deliver to a Trialee.”

       “Okay, but what now? He didn't tell you what he thought was wrong?”

        Felicity shook her head vehemently.

        I sighted. Planeto obviously thought that the daggers shouldn't be returned to the family, otherwise they wouldn't be sitting in my hands. But why would he return them to me? I shook my head, then sighed. “What’re you doing, Planeto…”

I sensed Felicity peering over my shoulder. “What are they?” she asked.

          “Lethal weapons that could easily get me killed by the relatives of their…” I paused, trying to find a way to explain without actually explaining what was happening. “They’re a s**t load of trouble,” I said hastily. “Though they could be useful, provided my head doesn't get ripped off by another dragon…” I murmured.

            Her jaw dropped a bit. “Provided your head doesn't get ripped off by another dragon.” She shook her head. “Those aren’t what I think they are, are they?”

             I shrugged casually, as if the prospect of my head being chomped by the relatives of the first owners of the wicked, gleaming blades I was stuck with for now was entirely normal. “I should get these to Or…” I cut myself off before I said something incredibly stupid. “A trusted friend that knows what they're doing.”   

She glared at me. “I’m not stupid,” she seethed.

“Exactly,” I retorted. Before she could say another word, I walked away. “I don’t need your help, by the way,” I said over my shoulder. “If I do…” I shrugged. “I’ll let you know.” Her stony eyes burrowed themselves into my back like a rusty knife as I shut the grand doors to her distastefully lavish chambers.

*****

I hustled into the magic conservatory before the main doors swung shut. The stranger hadn’t bothered to hold it open for me, busy with their own life. This had been where Orenda had brought me to continue my magical education without the prying eyes of the stadium’s occupants. “Orenda!” I shouted into the crowded hall.

I saw an ebony head perk from across the cavernous atrium. I frantically motioned for her to come over, yet was somewhat waylaid by the daggers, wrapped in their original parcel. She simply shook her head, then mirrored my own gestured. I sighed through my nose and headed over as quickly as one could when trying to not get accidentally stabbed.

She looked at the parcel questioningly. “What is that?”

“Do you have somewhere we could talk privately?” I asked.

“Is that from?...”

I let loose a gust of air, slightly exasperated. “Do you have anywhere we could-”

She cut me off. “Yes, yes. Don’t be so impatient- it is not flattering.”

I rolled my eyes. “I could care less right now, no offense. We have bigger fish to fry.”

Orenda raised her eyebrows. “We had better, otherwise you’ll regret being so cheeky. Follow me,” she replied, walking away swiftly.

I marched behind her, trying to not be overly suspicious.

No one gave us any odd looks as we advanced through the bustling corridors, save for a few murmurs of respect directed towards Orenda. A few of the hallways were familiar because of the lessons Orenda had given me in various locations of the Magics Complex. However, within five minutes, I was completely lost. It was like waking up from an uncannily realistic dream, from familiar waters to uncharted territory. The halls steadily grew quieter and dustier, until Orenda and I were left to walk alone.

“Where are we?” I whispered, despite the empty halls. Or because of how profoundly empty these corridors were; I couldn’t tell.

“You wanted private, so I gave you private,” she said.

“Are we there yet?” I asked. “How long have we even been down here?” These abandoned passages had an unsettlingly timeless quality, as if someone could be trapped here, wandering forever… The thought sent a shiver of dread through my bones.

“I can keep track of time,” she replied, completely confident, at ease. “Others can not. We’ll be there soon.” she stopped in front of a section of blank, dreamy-blue wall. “We’re here, actually.”

“Are you sure?” I asked dubiously.

“Positive.” She tapped the wall three times, and an outline began to grow from where her knuckles had touched the wall. The traveled slowly, crawling their way across the oh-so-dreamy blue, making a door from nothing. After a moment, the black vines made their way to a spot by Orenda’s belly button, and sprang outwards, twining together to make a door knob. She turned to me, her familiar cheshire smile fixed on her face. “Shall we go in?”