Voyage from Foraglenn: Faerie Tales from the White Forest, #5

By Danika Dinsmore

Picking up where Book Three (Ondelle of Grioth) left off, Voyage from Foraglenn tells the story of Brigitta's most dangerous journey yet: sailing across the seas in search of the final Purviews. As the world descends deeper into elemental chaos, and the Eternal Dragon's energy weakens, Brigitta feels the pressure of time running out. Her traveling companions are in for the long haul, but Brigitta is having trouble letting them in. Croilus is up to his old tricks, invading her thoughts and dreams, and she can't decide which course of action to take to keep everyone safe. She knows she must open the Purviews and reunite the old civilizations in order to rebalance Faweh, but in doing so, she may be putting the world in another kind of danger. Could she possibly be leading Croilus to a way to kill the Eternal Dragon and take control of the most powerful magic the world has even known? Brigitta's exciting adventures continue in this penultimate book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hydra House
• Release date: Apr 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9780997951011

Book preview

What others are saying about Faerie Tales from the White Forest:

A radiant novel!

~Lori Calabrese, author, and former book reviewer for National Children’s Book Examiner

A wild and wonderful ride . . . There are talking plants and floating eyeballs and powerful potions, but the heart of the magic is in the story of an ordinary girl who must take extraordinary risks to save her people.

~Sara Nickerson, author, How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found and The Secrets of Blueberries, Brothers, Moose, and Me

. . . whimsical and imaginative . . . I had to keep reading and reading because my own world disappeared . . . If only I could grow my own set of wings.

~Jennette McCurdy, actor/singer

A fabulous—can’t put it down—lost in a fantasy world—read.

~David Ford, former publisher Little, Brown Books

. . . magical and engaging . . .

~Clockwork Reviews

Dinsmore weaves a coming of age story through a world that is both fantastic and believable.

~Rise Reviews

Brigitta is an engaging heroine, resourceful and just arrogant enough to get herself into interesting trouble.

~Young Adult Books Central

I couldn’t stop reading… I highly recommend [Ruins of Noe] to anyone who loves adventure . . . very entertaining.

~Peyton List, actor, Diary of a Wimpy Kid

A charming, magical journey...

Cassandra Rose Clarke, Author, The Assassin’s Curse series

title-page

Voyage from Foraglenn

Copyright © 2018 by Danika Dinsmore.

All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in a newspaper, magazine, radio, or television review, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Author or the Publisher.

ISBN: 978-0-9979510-1-1

First printing.

Cover art by Julie Fain

www.juliefain.com

Map and illustrations by Alison Woodward

www.alisonannwoodward.com/

Interior design by Tod McCoy

www.todmccoy.com

Copyediting by Jennifer D. Munro

JenniferDMunro.com

Published by:

Hydra House

2850 SW Yancy St. #106

Seattle, WA 98126www.hydrahousebooks.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, situations, Faeries, Nhords, Chakau’un, Qeals, Saari, Ancients, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Another world is not only possible, she is on her way.

On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.

~Arundhati Roy

world_left.tifworld_right.tifforaglenn_left.tifforaglenn_right.tif

To remember what has gone before in the

Faerie Tales from the White Forest series, please visit:

danikadinsmore.com/white-forest-summaries

Chapter One

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Brigitta and Glennis crouched behind a boulder, each grasping a thick, paddle-shaped stick. Glennis coughed and Brigitta shushed her with a glare and a wing twitch. Glennis covered her mouth to prevent another cough as Brigitta lifted her stick with both hands and sunk her feet into the dirt. Even with a chill in the air, beads of sweat dripped from Brigitta’s hairline, but she dared not move to wipe them away.

A pop, then a whirring hum echoed around them, and the two faerie girls leapt from their hiding spot just as a ball of hardened mud arced through the air toward the right side of the natural rocky arena. Brigitta sped for the ball of clay as Glennis flew in the other direction.

Over here! Glennis cried, fluttering backward on her dark yellow wings.

Brigitta whacked the ball with her stick and sent it sailing toward Glennis. As Glennis pulled back her arm to thwack it, Jarlath buzzed down from the tree branches above them and descended on her. The younger faerie shrieked as Jarlath batted the ball with his own stick, knocking it away. Lalam appeared over a boulder to Brigitta’s right and smacked the ball into a small hole in the side of the arena.

They all dropped to the ground, heaving to catch their breaths.

Glennis pointed her finger at Jarlath with her hand over her chest. You . . . you . . . she breathed, unable to say any more.

Cheated? accused Brigitta as she fluttered back up, wiping the fine layer of dirt from her tunic. The tiny particles stuck to her hands. She shook them as she swore, Hagspit.

You’re the ones who said all directions are fair in muddleball, Jarlath teased, starry blue eyes full of mischief. Let’s see . . . I believe that makes it game at five to three.

Brigitta swatted the side of her leg with her stick a few times in annoyance. Jarlath could be so smug sometimes. She looked over to Lalam. I suppose using transformation magic is fair as well, Wising Lalam? She pointed to the hole he had sent the ball of clay into. That hole’s suspiciously larger than it was when we started.

You are cheaters! exclaimed Glennis from where she still sat in the dirt.

Who, me? Lalam mocked being insulted. He held his hand out and helped her up.

A bird cawed in the distance and another answered. They all paused to listen. Jarlath’s face turned serious, a curtain closing on his smile. His nervous eyes darted to the others, even though Brigitta and Lalam had sworn to him numerous times that most birds were not toothy and vicious like the ones in Noe.

It’s getting dark, Brigitta broke their silence and dropped her stick. We should get back to camp.

Before the others could respond, she took off over the surrounding brush. Lalam caught up with her, fluttering beside her as they maneuvered through the spindly trees. His shaggy brown hair stuck to his sweaty cheeks and forehead.

The game was meant to be fun, he said. I thought a little distraction would be healthy and good for morale.

Brigitta pulled around to hover in front of him, startling him to a stop. A good dozen season cycles older than she, Lalam still had a boyish face, his eyes shining with sincerity.

We have been separated from Minq and Narru for ten suns and have no idea if they are even alive, she said. We are spellcast outside our home, where our kin wait in fear that we will never return. Croilus has the undispersed Ancients under his control and may have already figured out how to create Blue Spell.

Jarlath and Glennis caught up with them and hovered behind Lalam.

She buzzed away. We don’t have time for fun.

Brigitta, Lalam said as he followed, all of that would still be true whether we took a break or not.

Did I mention the balance of the entire world rests in our hands? she called over her shoulder.

What about your own balance? You need to quiet your busy mind once in a while, otherwise you will be no good to anyone, including yourself.

He was right. She knew he was right. And as annoyed as she often felt by his constant advice, he was only performing his duty as a Wising, trained under High Priestess Ondelle herself. But any time she and the others wasted by not hiking a bit farther before sunset, or by dallying too long after breakfast, was more time Minq and Narru could get themselves into trouble. Brigitta already lay awake at night, adding up the wasted moonbeats and wondering what terrible fates her friends might meet. Fretful voices tracked circles in her mind, little monsters that greeted her each sleep-deprived morning.

Dinner and then story time? called Glennis from behind. Maybe the one about how we crossed the Despicable Sand Hills? Or Jarlath can tell the one where Narine defends her father at Lake Indago?

If Brigitta will allow it, said Jarlath.

We need to get to bed early if we’re going to reach the Lodge of Eastern Months tomorrow, said Brigitta.

The words formed a lumpy ache in her heart. They would soon find out if Minq and Narru had made it to their designated meeting place. She was anxious to get there, but afraid of what they might find. Or not find . . .

Twigs snapped sharply out of her way as she flew through the cold, hard trees. She wished there were something in this dismal place in which she could find solace. Or inspiration. It had been such a long journey already. She couldn’t even remember when it had all started. She couldn’t remember what normal felt like. Had there ever been such a thing?

She couldn’t lose Minq and Narru; she had lost too many friends already. She reached for the moonstone necklace Gola the Drutan had left for her before wandering off into the White Forest to root herself. The first stone on the right now marked the suns since they had parted ways with Minq and Narru. Each night as she attempted sleep, she would stroke the stone’s cool, smooth surface, practicing her transformation skills by turning bits of stone into air then back to stone to form the lines.

With her thumb, she traced the tick marks, ten thin grooves. When they had separated from Minq and Narru, she had told them to wait at the Lodge of Eastern Months no more than six suns before returning to Narru’s home off the shore of Pariglenn . . . if that were even possible. What if they had left as she instructed them and found even greater dangers? What if they were in danger right now?

How could Wising Lalam even suggest they take a break to play a game? To wind themselves up, tire themselves out, and leave them dragging their wings in the morning? She scolded herself for even agreeing to such a thing.

As they wound their way back to their camp, her overactive thoughts kept circling back to Minq and Narru. Those ten suns since they parted ways on the edge of the Dark Forest, Minq with his tiny wings towing Narru in the wind-winder, felt more like one hundred.

Memory image! called Glennis.

Brigitta stopped and groaned. She glanced back at Jarlath as he dropped to the ground. He sat there, legs sprawled, rubbing the star-shaped scar on his neck.

Lalam and Glennis landed and crouched a good distance from him. Jarlath didn’t like to be touched during one of his so-called memory images for fear of losing the image or hitting someone if he should fling himself about. He had already done so to Glennis’s jaw. Twice.

Brigitta mustered all the patience she could, inhaling slowly as she descended. She concentrated on each individual bit of water in her breath, sending cooling energy to her mind, telling herself it wasn’t fair for her to blame Jarlath for their delay. In truth, it was mostly her fault.

His injury, from the energy-infused icicle Brigitta had buried in his neck in order to break Croilus’s spell over him, had slowed them down. She understood that he was still physically healing. But being newly bound to Narine’s Earth energy had filled him with never-ending questions for Lalam, an Earth Faerie himself, which took up more valuable time.

He also had a tendency to stop every time a piece of Narine’s Knowing triggered him.

Initially, when Jarlath had woken from Croilus’s spell and started experiencing these Knowings—memory images as he called them—everyone had assumed they would be helpful. But the memories were never sequential and never more than snippets of time, scattered moments he’d been puzzling together ever since. Whatever final Knowing Narine had meant to deliver had been ripped into pieces at Sage Peak.

Jarlath grunted and screwed up his face in either frustration or pain. Brigitta’s heart softened a little. She understood how disconcerting it could be to experience someone else’s memories. She had experienced Ondelle’s memories enough times, although less frequently now. But Ondelle’s memories were always complete and helpful in some manner. Each memory served her when she was stuck. She couldn’t help thinking that with all her experience and training, her mind might have made a better home for Narine’s Knowing, whether in scattered pieces or not.

Jarlath picked himself up off the ground, and Glennis stood up with him.

Well? she asked, patting her hands together in excitement. What did you see?

Jarlath steadied himself. His eyes turned dark and sad.

What is it? asked Lalam.

It’s— Jarlath shook his head. It’s nothing.

Brigitta fluttered to Glennis’s side to get a better look at him, but he dropped his gaze.

What kind of nothing? chirped Glennis, counting along on her fingers. A loud nothing? A soft nothing? A bright nothing? A dark nothing? A crunchy—

Enough, Glennis, said Brigitta as a drop of wetness from Jarlath’s face fell to the dirt. She looked back up and caught Lalam’s russet eyes.

Lalam nodded for Brigitta to continue through the trees. They flew in silence for several wingbeats until Jarlath spoke again, his voice shaky.

If only Narine’s memories were more than quick images, he said. It’s frustrating.

At least we can assume Croilus doesn’t have a full Knowing either, said Lalam.

Brigitta held her tongue. She wasn’t going to assume anything.

Doesn’t make it any less irritating, said Jarlath.

Accepting that a full Knowing might never be managed, advised Lalam, may be the key to piecing it all together.

Brigitta sped up. She didn’t want to get into it; she just wanted to get back to camp.

She rubbed at the moonstone so it, rather than her traveling companions, could receive her tension. All she could do was hope Minq and Narru had waited. Hope that the wispy mind-mist messages, invisible darts of thought, she had been sending for the past few suns toward the Lodge of Eastern Months had at least glanced Narru’s mind.

She and Narru had been able to communicate in each other’s minds since the day they met at the Standing Stones. Anyone with developed mind skills could do so, but theirs was a special connection, and he was the only one she felt safe opening her mind to any longer. Narru could only hear her messages if they actually reached him, though.

She sniffed away her sadness and worry and concentrated on the quickest route back to camp. Why in Faweh had she ever agreed to letting Minq and Narru strike out on their own?

Chapter Two

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At camp, Brigitta dropped to the ground as Lalam transformed a large rock back into pebbles, which scattered to reveal their food and gear that had been hidden inside.

Jarlath nudged her arm with his elbow, and she jumped from the shock of energy. You’re doing that scrunchy thing again with your forehead. He pointed to her head.

She rubbed her arm. And you find it far too amusing to startle me with Narine’s energy.

Hey, he said, it jolts me, too. He shot her a concerned look and then spoke into her mind. They’re both fine, he assured her. We’d know it somehow if they weren’t.

How can you be so sure? asked Brigitta out loud as Lalam held out her pack. She took it from him and fluttered away, calling over her shoulder to Jarlath, And I’d appreciate it if you would please stay out of my mind without my permission.

She didn’t wait to see his reaction, instead picking out a spot to sleep and busying herself setting a protective spell around it, not wanting Jarlath to catch the tears welling up in her eyes. She glanced back at Jarlath as he prepared a campfire and laughed with Lalam about the muddleball game. Boasting about their slick moves.

She pulled out the dustmist and firepepper and spread a barrier around the camp. After so many moons of practice, she didn’t even have to think about it any longer, even within the unbalanced elements of Faweh. She liked that her body had learned the spell. Her fingers executed a subtle flick and swish. It reminded her of when she had spied on Ondelle and the Elders in the Hive before everything changed. How Ondelle’s fingers and the air around them worked in perfect sync.

She spread out her bedding and curled up on her side, grateful it was not her night to cook. Cooking meant interaction, and she needed to be alone with her thoughts, to sort through them and examine them like jarred specimens in Gola’s laboratory. She wanted to preserve her own thoughts, keep them from getting too mixed up with Ondelle’s. Or anyone else’s for that matter.

She hadn’t told any of her friends that she still had thoughts from when she had been connected to Croilus before she and Lalam had stolen Narine’s Earth energy back. Lingering tendrils of maliciousness, like pesky slivers, she knew could only belong to him.

She didn’t want her anxious, mixed-up thoughts to cause any dissent or over-concern, nothing that could slow them down. That’s why she had agreed to the game of muddleball, to get her out of her own head for a little while and come back to her mind with a fresh view.

But a game of muddleball wasn’t going to change anything.

At least around camp each night Glennis talked incessantly, recounting the day so that, as official Chronicler of the Journey, she would remember it all. Lalam listened with patience and taught her about the Wising’s Way, and Jarlath . . .

She rolled onto her back. The sky was already dark, no stars.

Ever since Jarlath had acquired Narine’s Earth energy, Brigitta had been struggling with too many confusing sensations. She didn’t like it when he spoke into her mind, because the voice sounded too familiar, as if she were talking to herself. Those bits of him Narine occupied got mixed up with Ondelle’s memories, whose voice had grown familiar in her head as well. Brigitta wanted to hold onto the part of herself that was hers alone, before she’d met Jarlath, before the curse that had led her from the White Forest the very first time, before she knew her Water energy had originally belonged to Narine, before she had been gifted Ondelle’s Air.

The pull of Narine’s elements, even Narine’s Fire,