Page 11 of Wake the Dream

Her fist raised to knock, the door swung open on its own. Now Illaria knew how the detective must have felt the night before.

It didn’t sit well with her.

“Stop sulking and come in.” The voice, like someone twisting the lid off a rusted can, hit Illaria along with a camphoric, oily smell seconds later. “No sense standing around like a baboon. I know why you’re here.”

“You’rethe baboon,” Illaria muttered but stepped inside anyway, heading up the stairs to an open area at the top.

Bowls of moldy moss and overripe oranges filled the room with a hazy cloud of brown, and garlic cloves hung from the ceiling in braids. Illaria coughed, moving her hand in front of her mouth as though to clear the air.

“How much is the owner still charging you for rent on this dump?” she asked, glancing around.

A small fire smoldered away in a wood-burning stove in the corner of the room, a mirror covered by a shroud hanging above. Illaria didn’t like how she couldn’t see her reflection.

Caryss laughed, soft and lethal, her left eye twitching as she stepped around the side of the mahogany armoire housing whatever strange vials held her concoctions.Old magic, she had said once when cornered in town. Illaria wondered what kind of ancient Fae needed implements to channel their power, then realized she was being judgmental. She had little to offer in those terms beyond her wings and affinity for air.

“You aren’t going to find her, you know.”

Illaria jerked at the statement, turning around to see Caryss now standing close behind her. Metal teeth flashed in the dim light coming in through a crescent-shaped window in the front wall.

She cracked her knuckles, clenching her fist. A show of force and nothing more. “You better start talking, lady. How do you know about my sister?”

“I know what happened to her. I know some of the details of last night. Ah.” Caryss held up her hand to stop Illaria when she stepped forward. “Not so fast.”

“Tell me what you know,” Illaria demanded. “I need to know where to find her. Right now.”

Caryss shook her head, salt and pepper curls falling in front of her wrinkled face. She must be ancient, truly, for her physical form to reflect her age in this manner. “Sorry, little girl. It’s impossible.”

“You have to be kidding me.”

“Why? Because I won’t give what you ask so easily?”

“Because you know where she is and you refuse to help me! You’d rather stand around with your trinkets and do nothing.”

Twitch, twitch. “I know what you think of me. What all of you think about me.”

“That you’re a joke, content with doing parlor tricks for humans? Yes, absolutely.”

“Good things do not come to those who insult,” Caryss snapped, accentuating the statement with a flash of iron teeth. “I want you to listen to me. Are you listening? I can’t help you. It isn’t my place.”

Illaria gritted her teeth together until something cracked. Maybe coming here hadn’t been the best idea. She wanted to find her sister. Not engage in a pissing match and lose. “Look, if you know something about Yelena, then tell me. We’re wasting time! Something could have happened to her.”

Caryss continued to shake her head, and the motion sent shivers down Illaria’s spine.

“Didsomething happen?” she whispered.

“I may do parlor tricks, it’s true. But I also have powers. I will tell you this, girl. You are not searching for a human in this matter.”

“Yes, I know that.” Illaria let her wings extend, feeling their familiar weight tugging at her shoulder blades. “I’m Fae, just like you are. Tell me you aren’t going senile and you don’t recognize your own kind.”

Caryss spat into the fire in the wood-burning stove and the moisture caused the flames to spark. “Obviously I know what you are. If you are going to insult me again, then you can leave. I have no time to waste on your foolishness. I knew this wasn’t a social call the second I felt your assaulting energy on my doorstep.”

Illaria held up her hands in a classic gesture for peace. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m worried. You have to understand how I feel.” At the admission, a thin sliver of ice pierced her heart. With Yelena gone, she was alone. Truly alone.

“Good to know the little ice queen has a heart,” Caryss clucked. She drew her dirt-colored robes around her closer until she became one giant blob with a head.

“Please tell me what happened,” Illaria begged. “You said not human.” Her mind seized on the statement. “You said I’m not searching for a human?”

“And you said that you already knew. It’s not my place to tell you any more than I have. This is something you must do on your own, a journey in front of you. And no, you are not searching for a human. You’re searching for someone who can hide in plain sight where monsters and myths are alive.” Caryss’s chuckle, dry and dusty, split the silence in a worse way than her voice. “Go back and trace your sister’s steps. That is the only piece of advice I can offer you.”

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