Natalie half expected Sam to tell her she was crazy, or at least give her a sidelong look. Instead he nodded slowly. "I'm not surprised. Brookland has a way of slipping into other places. Into dreams."
"Or lately, into nightmares." Gwen was already heading for the field of lavender as she said this, and she didn't look back to see if Sam and Natalie were following her.
A narrow path cut through the field, one that looked as though it had been well used, and after a moment of hesitation, Sam followed his companion. Natalie hurried after them, still staring around in awe. She had stood here in that dream, in this very field. She was sure of it. Then it had been imbibed with the strange, blurry quality that all of her dreams had—so obviously that she had known immediately she was asleep—and here it was in the daylight. She tilted her head back slightly, noting that the sun was still partially blocked out by a gray sky. It wasn't quite so bad as the sky back at the shanty town had been, but it still wasn't the blue, cloudless sky she'd expected of a place like this.
If this place was real, did it mean the haunting voice she'd heard was real as well? That it really had been calling to her? The idea made unease roil in her stomach, and she sucked in a breath and hurried to catch up with Sam. She wouldn't mention anything to him. Hearing disembodied voices was never a good sign. Besides, it had probably just been a part of the dream.
"What do you mean, it gets into your dreams?" She hurried after Sam. "Like, people who have never been here dream about it? Is that why—" she almost said 'why the necklace took me here' and then stumbled, choking on her own words. Sam glanced back at her, his brows raised, and she could feel her face flush. She felt like an idiot.
No. She couldn't tell him about the necklace yet. She couldn't tell anyone, it was too dangerous. There was the same nagging thought at the back of her mind, it had been for the last few hours: If the necklace had got her here, it could very well be her only way back home. If she lost it...if someone took it from her, she could be stuck here forever.
Just the thought of it sent a pang of homesickness through her. She missed her dad, and the creaky house, and Sera.
Sam sighed, a gusty, resigned noise, and turned away. For second it seemed as though he would ignore her question. Then, "Some people are meant to come here," he said heavily, "Humans, usually. It's like the land calls to them."
Up ahead Gwen snorted. "Yeah, and then the problem is it keeps calling."
This time when Sam glanced back his expression was unreadable. "Right. Once you've been here, it's like...it's in your blood. Some humans, they never get over it. It's like nothing else is good enough anymore, and if they can't get back..."
"They go crazy," she said shortly.
"And that's why the king set out wards years ago," Sam said. "No one gets in anymore." He glanced sideways at Natalie. "Even if they try. Not without strong enough magic to get past."
Natalie's stomach had begun churning and she looked away, avoiding his questioning gaze. He didn't think she was magic, did he? Or worse, had he guessed about the necklace?
The necklace. Her mother's disappearance...could it be that her mother had been one of these people? The ones obsessed with the idea of returning? And if she hadn't been able to get back over...if the necklace had stopped working momentarily...had she gone insane? Maybe that's why she had disappeared.
She couldn't help remembering the woman in the picture she'd discovered, how happy she had looked, her gaze dreamy and far away. And then the portrait in the hallway. The military short haircut, the steely look on her face. Had that been after she'd realized she couldn't get back?
But...that still didn't explain why her mother had disappeared, or where she'd gone.
"What happened here?" she asked, mainly so Sam would stop staring at her like that. "How did it get like this?"
There was silence for a moment. They had come over a gentle slope in the hill, and Natalie gasped at the sight unfolding below them. The village was nothing like the shanty town they had just been in. This one was set right in the center of the forest, a village set in the midst of green pine trees. It was full of life and activity, wisps of white smoke curling up from chimneys, people moving back and forth between the houses, horses pulling carriages through the narrow cobblestone roads. The houses were old fashioned. Thatch-roofed cottages, some draped with colorful awning to signify shop fronts. There was a stone fountain in the center of everything, where horses were hitched, and women clustered to wash baskets of clothing.
"Oh my gosh, it's beautiful."
Sam looked grim at this. "It's still the king's town, that's why. It's one of the only places left she hasn't got her hooks in."
They were descending the gentle slope now, heading for the beginnings of a dirt road that led to the gates at the front.
"Who is she? And what does she have to do with that horrible place in the mountains?"
Sam didn't look back this time, just shook his head. "We'll tell you later. For now, don't ask questions about it. Not even in this town. Not until we get inside."
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Did that mean someone could be watching them? Evesdropping? Natalie glanced around, feeling a bit foolish. They were still surrounded completely by the field. Was someone supposed to be crouched in the lavender?
As soon as their feet hit the dirt road, Sam turned, yanking the dusty cloak off his shoulders. "Put this on," he said. "And put the hood up. You're too short but there's nothing we can do about that. Hopefully you'll pass."
Natalie frowned, about to protest the heavy cloak—it was slightly muggy and she would die of heat—but the look Sam gave her was serious enough that she simply shrugged and threw it about her shoulders, fumbling with the clasp at the front until Sam reached out, ignoring her glare, and did it for her.
"There," he said. "Now the hood."
"Why?" She dragged the hood up over her hair, and blinked when Sam tugged it down still further, so that she could no longer see anything but her feet.
"You're too obviously human. We don't need to attract attention. Even if this is the King's city, there are others here that would report you."
"So, no humans allowed?" Natalie's mouth tasted sour, the fear suddenly sharp again. The village had looked so peaceful. She'd been hoping it was nothing like the shanty town in the mountains, but she had to hide here too?
"She's looking for them," Sam said shortly, and turned. "Follow me, keep your head down."
She wanted to ask him why, but he was already turning away, heading for the gates, which were propped open wide enough to let in a stream of carts and horses, and a few brightly colored caravans.
The closer they got, the more she could hear the sounds from the village, the hammering of metal on metal and bustle of the market, children laughing and adults calling to one another as they hurried by. Sam lead them through the narrow streets, past the thatched-roofed houses with boxes of lavender beneath the windows, and women hanging out washing along lines woven with colorful flags flapping in the breeze, past families sitting on the porch, sunning themselves, and groups of sheep being herded with noisy protest across the street. Natalie noted with a vague kind of unease, that none of the people here were human. They were all just slightly too tall, with the same narrow bone structure as Sam and Gwendolin, and the same tawny golden eyes. Though it was in the middle of the day their eyes still reflected the light just the slightest bit, making them glow.
Thankfully it was busy enough that no one really seemed to notice the three of them walking through. Regardless of the fact that Gwendonlin was covered in coal dirt and slightly wild looking, hardly anyone glanced their way.
In the center of town they walked through some kind of market, which was so crowded that Sam had to reach back and grab hold of Natalie's arm, practically dragging her through the crush of people. Vendors hedged the town square in with carts full of fish and fruit on one side, their wares shaded with colorful striped awnings, and when they passed through the other side, Natalie could see that these carts were filled with silk scarves and jewelry, pots made of clay, and leather-bound books. She turned away from the book stand with a shiver, thinking about the librarian's leather book, and an unwelcome picture of his face—twisted with rage when she had refused to give him the necklace—floated to the surface of her thoughts.
The jewelry stands were what drew her attention. As they passed one of the stands she stopped, gaze drawn by the glittering silver necklace pendants, the long, delicate chains, and most of all, the glimmering rubies and emeralds. The center piece of the display was a delicate silver hoop on a chain that hung from a hook in the awning. Somehow, someone had set a shimmering blue diamond along the inside of the circle, thin enough to see through, and as fine and smooth as the ocean on a summer day.
She staggered forward, a wave of longing crashing through her. Somewhere far away, in the back of her mind, she was surprised by the intensity of the emotion. Some small part of her questioned what she was doing, why she had stopped. The larger part of her just wanted the jewel. Or just to touch it. Even just brush a finger over the smooth surface.
Upon seeing her interest, the owner of the stand waved a hand, beckoning her over. The woman behind the display was slightly taller than Gwen, and her dark hair was caught up in an intricately braided updo. Her eyes were a pale green color, and they danced with light as she smiled. "Come see," she said. "Come see."
She was the most beautiful woman Natalie had ever seen.
Natalie stopped, reaching out one shaking hand—she just wanted to touch the jewel, that was all. To smooth her fingers over the blue diamond and see what it felt like. Her fingertip was inches away, when someone grabbed her cloak and hauled her backwards.
Disoriented, she blinked up at Sam from under her hood. He looked torn between amusement and horror. "Trust me, you don't want to touch that."
Natalie shook her head, feeling a little like she was coming out of a daze, or some kind of strange dream. "What...?" she turned back to the jewelry stand. The woman behind it looked...different. Sullen, for starters, she seemed to be pouting, as if Sam had put an end to something she'd found tremendously fun. Her eyes were also a different shade of green than Natalie had first thought, paler, almost absent of color. And the light in them was not so much playful as treacherous.
And the necklace. Her throat grew tight as she looked at it more closely. The blue diamond in the middle looked for a moment as if it were reflecting Natalie's eye. Only...her eyes were not blue, nor was her gaze darting frantically around like that, left and right and up and down, as if the eye in the diamond was searching for a way out.
Her stomach clenched. "Is that...?"
"The last person who touched the necklace, yes." Once again Sam took her wrist, perhaps a little more firmly than he needed to. He gave the woman a scathing glare, and she merely smiled back, apparently unbothered. "Come on, let's go."
Natalie didn't protest as he towed her through the crowd, away from the jewelry stand.
She thought she might be sick.
!+_#c