“Will you hurry?” The high, piping voice was coming from outside the tree. “We cannot delay any longer—we must get to Court!” It was Chrisanther and the little Nixies sounded extremely impatient.
“I guess we’d better get going to the Summer Court—we can’t put it off forever,” Bran murmured.
“What do you think is going to happen to me there?” My stomach was suddenly one massive knot of apprehension.
“Nothing that doesn’t happen to us as well,” Bran said firmly. “We are sworn to your service now, Emma. To punish you, they have to get through Lachlan and me first.”
“Bran is right—they’ll have to kill us if they want to hurt you.” Lachlan’s emerald eyes blazed fiercely. “But we must go.”
We all trooped out of the tree house—(or was it more of a tree studio apartment?)—and Lachlan murmured some words of Gaelic or Celtic and waved his staff at the door as he shut it. Then he nodded at Chrisanther, who was buzzing around our heads.
“All right—lead the way.”
“We will go by portal,” the Nixie proclaimed.
“What—another portal?” I frowned.
“They’re a common way to travel in the Realm,” Lachlan told me. “It saves time. But before we go, I think we’d better change clothes.”
I had to admit, the three of us looked out of place, wearing our Nocturne Academy uniforms but what else could we wear?
“I didn’t bring a change with me,” I protested. “Did you guys?” I thought maybe they had some extra clothes in their tree house that we would have to go back and get.
“No, but Lachlan can work a transformation spell on our clothing,” Bran told me. He nodded at Lachlan. “Go on—do it.”
“Just hold still—this will only take a moment.” Lachlan closed his eyes and the clear crystal on his staff began to glow a soft gold. I stared at it, wondering when something was going to happen? Would a bolt of light shoot out from it and zap my uniform to make it change into something else?
I didn’t feel anything but when the crystal stopped glowing, I looked at Bran and saw that he was wearing a kind of long, white tunic which fell to mid thigh and loose white linen trousers. A white cloak, a wide leather belt, and tall black boots completed the outfit.
The new clothing appeared deceptively simple. But when I looked closer, I saw that it was embroidered all over with silver thread in intricate patterns that shimmered when Bran moved.
Looking at Lachlan, I saw that he was dressed in a similar fashion except his clothing was black, with a pattern of ruby threads that winked like fire when he turned to face me.
“Oh—you two look amazing!” I exclaimed. I stepped towards them and was surprised to hear a rustling sound.
Looking down, I saw that my pleated school uniform skirt had been transformed into a long, flowing gown of deep purple. Like the guys’ clothing, my new dress was also embroidered with threads that caught the light—golden thread that glimmered richly with my every movement.
“You dressed her in the royal purple?” Bran sounded wary. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“She’s royalty—the Obsidian Portal wouldn’t have lit up for her the way it did otherwise,” Lachlan said. “She deserves to wear the royal purple.”
“Well—” Bran began but Chrisanther’s high voice interrupted him.
“Enough lollygagging!” he piped sternly. “I am opening the portal to the Summer Court now!”
As he spoke, he whizzed in a circle—or actually, it was more of a large oval—in front of us. A line of light seemed to follow his path and an opening in the air was outlined in silver.
“Take hands again,” Bran advised, reaching for me. I took his right hand and Lachlan’s left. “We must enter the Summer Court together and let everyone know that Emma is protected.”
I squeezed their hands tightly as apprehension filled me like murky water. What was I going to see in the Summer Court? What would happen to me there?
Nothing, if Bran and Lachlan can prevent it, a little voice whispered in my head. I felt very slightly better as I drew comfort from the fact that both of them had promised to stand by me. They wouldn’t leave me, no matter what happened. And I promised myself I wouldn’t leave them either.
We were going to stick together, no matter what.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the silver portal and into the Summer Court.
76
We came out in front of a tree that made the one that housed Bran and Lachlan’s tree house look like a sapling. It was enormous—as big as one of those giant skyscrapers that takes up an entire city block—and its bark was snow-white.
There was an entrance in the front of it—an elaborately curled golden gate that looked big enough for several big SUVs to drive through, side by side. And inside, past the gates, I caught glimpses of a vast interior.