“Yes,” Oliver agreed. “And now we’ve obviously proven that isn’t true.”
“Have we?”
The words sounded far away and a chill raced through Oliver as he began to unravel precisely what Kitsune was asking.
The mist cleared and they were face-to-face again.
“Kit, I-”
“Oliver, just…listen,” she said. “When I heard the phrase Legend-Born, I recognized it from bits of folklore I have heard the Lost Ones discuss in the past. And not only Lost Ones, but legends as well. A legend amongst legends. What is most unique about this is that the stories I have heard…they’re from everywhere. Snatches of conversation in a jungle village in Yucatazca, curses in a pub in Perinthia, prayers in Shangri-La-”
He grinned. “There’s a Shangri-La?”
“Of course there is. Have you forgotten where you are? Please, just listen. I do not know the whole story because it is not in my nature to pay attention to such things. I am normally skittish around too many people and prefer my own company. But I have heard enough to understand the gist of the story.”
“Which is?”
“In all of the ages since the creation of the Veil, the Borderkind have moved back and forth between worlds, sometimes living amongst humans for long periods. Many of our kind have a fascination for the mundane world, and for humanity. Some even prefer that side to this one. A great many Borderkind chose to keep their tether to your world because they love humans. They watch from the shadows and the forests and from beneath the water. Or they walk amongst you. Borderkind have been known to take human lovers, Oliver. But this is strictly forbidden.”
Oliver shook his head. “Why?”
Kitsune frowned. “I’d always thought it superstition. Now I am not sure. There are stories, you see, from centuries past, about children being born from the union between human and Borderkind, and those children being hunted, and captured, and destroyed.”
He stared at her. “I don’t understand what this-”
“Of all of these stories, there’s only one that is recent. It concerns a Borderkind called Melisande, a French legend, a beautiful woman who loved fine dresses and pretty things. She was not simply a woman. She had the wings of a terrible dragon and from the waist down her body was that of a serpent.”
Frustrated, Oliver shook his head. “Look, Kit, we’re so close now. Collette is so close. We’ve got to…I mean, what does this have to do with anything?”
Her jade eyes flashed with impatience. “Everything! It has everything to do with you and Collette, if I’m right.”
Oliver nodded. “All right. Go on.”
Kitsune softened. She gnawed her lower lip for a moment and took a breath. “The legend amongst the Lost Ones says that Melisande-a Borderkind, remember-fell in love with an ordinary man and had children by him, and that they still live on the other side of the Veil. Happily ever after.”
These last words were laden with spite and irony, but Oliver paid little attention. Thoughts and images clicked through his mind, words overheard and words never understood.
He ran his hands through his hair, clutched the back of his head as if to keep it from breaking open from the pressure within.
“So, you’re saying-”
“The conversation I overheard between Frost and Wayland Smith,” Kitsune went on. “Frost lied to you, we know that. The Falconer wasn’t there hunting him, or not just hunting him. The Falconer was there for you, and Collette as well. I have been so confused by Frost’s words, my loyalties torn, but if this is…He really was there to protect you, Oliver.”
Oliver frowned deeply. “I don’t…”
But the words trailed off. He thought of the Hunter calling him Legend-Born, and of the way that the Sandman had murdered his father but abducted Collette in order to lure him in. Why? Why was he so important? And then he remembered-
“The Nagas,” Oliver said.
“In Twillig’s Gorge? What of them?”
“Don’t you remember?” he asked, a sick feeling churning in his stomach. “They called…they called me ‘brother.’ ”
Kitsune stared at him, mouth open in astonishment. She gazed around as though the mist would serve up the rest of the answers they sought. “Melisande was half-serpent, like them.”
Oliver sat down hard on the smooth black glass of the road. The mist swirled more tightly around him as though to get a better look, and he was sure he heard soft laughter in the distance. If there were ghosts here, they were amused by his horror.
Revulsion twisted in his gut and he shook his head. “It can’t…my mother…she was just my mom, Kit. And she died a long time ago, when I was really young. She was beautiful and kind but just ordinary. Just a woman. And my father…this Melisande could never have fallen in love with him.”
Kitsune stared at him. “But she did.”
Oliver flinched and stared up at her.
“All of the pieces fit.”
“But…” He breathed steadily, trying to catch his breath. “Why didn’t Frost tell me?”
“I don’t know. He might have thought you would be in more danger if you knew the truth. Oliver, I have told you everything I know of the Legend-Born, but obviously there is more to the story. If the Hunters want to destroy you and Collette, there must be a reason. We need to know the rest of that legend, to find out what it is about you two that they fear.”
The words echoed in his mind. Could it be that the Hunters feared him? No, not the Hunters. Their masters. Whoever had set the Hunters after the Borderkind, and after him and Collette, was the real enemy. If it was all true, it also meant that the quest that Frost and the others had embarked on, the war they were fighting, were Oliver’s causes, too. He had planned to stay here as long as it took, help in whatever way he could. But now, if all of this was real, he had little choice.
Kitsune reached down and helped him to his feet. Oliver held on to her hand a moment longer than necessary and a sliver of hurt flashed in her eyes before she pulled away.
They fell into step together, side by side along the twisting black glass road, moving through the mist.
“I’ve…I’ve never been more than ordinary,” he said without looking at her. “I always believed in magic. My father tried to grind that out of me, make me more practical, more realistic. But I always believed in my heart that there were magical things in the world. Not in me, though. I never thought there was anything special about me.”
“Perhaps your father was simply afraid of what you might become,” Kitsune said, as they came around that final curve and saw nothing but mist ahead, thick and impenetrable. “He stifled your imagination, hoping to keep your life from becoming more complicated.”
Oliver frowned. “If all of this is true, then what he did was keep secrets. He hid the truth, and he was a callous, hard bastard along the way. Don’t make him out to be a hero.”
Kitsune did not reply at first. When she did, her voice rasped and the mist muffled it so that it was even less than a whisper.
“For my part, if you and your sister are Legend-Born, I will be relieved.”
“What?” Oliver shot her a hard look. “Why?”
She kept walking, and when she answered, she did not look at him.
“I found it…disconcerting…to feel what I feel for an ordinary man. If you are half-legend, that would explain a great deal.”
Oliver could think of nothing to say to that, and so kept silent as they strode the last few yards into the thickening mist. In moments it grew so dense that Kitsune ceased even to be a shape in the swirling shroud and he reached out to grab a handful of her fur cloak, just to keep her close.
Then he stepped out of the mist and found himself standing beneath a starry night sky, a sliver moon hanging above in a crisp, cool night. He shivered and the clammy film that had built up on his skin during the journey dried in the cold mountain air. For they were, indeed, in the mountains. Oxen grazed nearby on rough grassy land and, around them, Oliver counted three separate mountain peaks. The mountains themselves were steep and the terrain varied from craggy stone to ugly, twisted little trees to a frozen cascade of ice. High up, all three peaks were capped with snow.