Chapter 6
I RUBBED MY eyes and looked again. Was this some fae magic, like invisibility? Or would they reappear behind me?
Unsure what to do, I crept closer.
The base of the tree had a big gaping hole in the ground.
I ducked back.
So, that was where they’d gone.
Carefully, I circled the tree to make sure. No other tracks. They’d clearly stopped at that hole.
Once behind the tree where they couldn’t see, I snuck closer. My jacket swished softly despite my best efforts, so I moved even slower.
The hole was huge.
Multiple people could—and obviously had—fit inside.
Maybe they were tying up my family for ransom. Poor planning since we didn’t have any money, but my tired brain couldn’t think of any other rational explanation for sitting in a hole.
Quietly, I knelt by the base of the huge tree trunk, hoe held high, ready to whack whichever kidnapper reappeared first.
I held my breath and listened.
No one spoke.
I couldn’t even hear them breathing.
It must be a deep hole.
I waited.
Blowing out a shaky breath as quietly as possible, I tried to ignore the tingling in my toes as my foot fell asleep.
The sun dipped below the tree line, casting everything around me in a golden light.
I should at least hear shuffling down there, shouldn’t I?
Had the fae snuck back out already and I’d somehow missed them? Anxiety made it hard to breathe.
My other foot fell asleep too.
Dusk began to turn everything gray. In the gloom, I spotted the first star.
If I waited any longer, I’d have to fight them in the dark, which was the epitome of stupid.
Standing, I quietly shook my legs to get the feeling back into my toes.
Without any better options, I hoisted the hoe, preparing to swing. I could at least make them think I wasn’t alone. “Police! You’re surrounded!” I yelled in a deep voice. “Come out with your hands up or you’ll be shot!”
No response.
I’d probably pushed it with that last bit about shooting them. What kind of police officer would shoot into a group of hostages? I usually thought things through more.
Wincing, I tried again. “This is your last warning. Come out now and you might not go to jail.”
Silence.
Not the slightest scuffle inside of a boot or a puffy jacket. Leaning forward, I listened harder.
Complete stillness.
Okay, they’d seen through me.
If they weren’t coming out, I had to go in.
And if I was going in, I was taking at least one of them out on the way.
With a wild yell that echoed in the quiet woods, I launched myself around the tree, ready to swing.
Hoe overhead, I waited.
The dark empty hole stared back at me.
Panting, I dropped to my knees and peered into the depths.
Nothing happened.
The last bit of fading light trickled into the hole, revealing it was much deeper than I’d thought. I couldn’t see the bottom.
Tentatively, I leaned in.
If they’d tied up my family and left them here, I should be able to see a fuzzy outline of their bodies, right?
The hole couldn’t be that much bigger.
Gathering my nerves, I scooted forward to poke my head in farther.
Some loose dirt underneath my hand made the hoe slip.
Crap!
I lost my balance.
Swinging my arms wildly, the hoe went flying as I tried desperately to tip my body away from the hole, but it was too late.
Crap, crap, crap!
I was about to get a face full of dirt.
A squeak escaped as I fell. I hit the ground a couple seconds later.
Oof.
And then I was rolling.
Unable to stop myself on the steep incline, I tumbled head over heels into the inky darkness. My coat snagged on something. A loud rip rended the air. As I rolled, my wrist got caught beneath me and twisted, making me yelp, before the ground leveled out.
The momentum threw me without warning into a solid dirt wall that thumped the last gasp of air from my body.
Ow.
Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. . .
I couldn’t breathe.
Gasping like a fish out of water, I managed to suck air into my burning lungs.
It was all I could do to keep taking short quick breaths.
My ribs burned. Actually, everything hurt.
If I hadn’t dropped the hoe before I fell, I’d probably have landed on it and broken my ribs.
The small tools in my coat pockets had definitely left bruises.
Lying there in the dark, wheezing, I stared up at the bright hole in the sky, knowing the kidnappers would grab me before I could move. No way they’d missed that entrance.
For the thousandth time that day, though, things didn’t go the way I’d expected.
Instead of getting nabbed by a big blue dude, I heard footsteps coming from at least a half dozen feet away, muffled by all the dirt.
There was a tunnel down here?
That explained a lot.
“What in the name of Samhain is going on?” A feminine voice came from the same direction as the footsteps.
A soft light flickered on.
Panic forced me up off the dirt floor, still wheezing, heart racing. I scuttled backward but immediately hit the dirt wall again.
I yanked the garden tools out and held them up like weapons.
The owner of the voice tilted her head slightly, blinking at me and then at my tools with slanted dark eyes as she lifted an old-fashioned lantern higher. “What an odd entrance.” She didn’t seem bothered by the metal at all. Great.
“Excuse me?” My voice rose about two octaves higher than normal and a little breathless. “Who are you?”
“I’m Lore.” Her quick cheerful answer surprised me. She tilted her head to study me and my tools, which were still outstretched. Her long hair was nearly as white as her dress. Pointed fae ears caught my attention, raising all kinds of flags that screamed, Don’t trust her!
Hers weren’t like the others though. They were covered in a soft white fur and shaped a bit wider, like fox ears.
“Maybe next time you should use the stairs,” she suggested with raised brows and a smile.
“Stairs?” I scoffed, flinging an arm at the giant hole high above us as I glared at her. “You’re joking, right? There’s no sta—”
I cut off abruptly.
Well, would you look at that. There really were stairs curving along one side of the dirt wall, right next to the hill I’d just rolled down, ending just a few feet from where I stood.
“Oh,” I said, finishing what would’ve been a really good rant on a bit of a flat note. Slowly, I straightened out of my protective stance and lowered the tools to my sides. Though I half expected my head to brush against the ceiling, it was much taller than I’d thought.
A long awkward silence fell over us.
I glanced left and right, finding dark tunnels in both directions. All this time I’d wasted by assuming the hole in the ground was a dead end. My eyes stung. Why hadn’t it occurred to me that it might lead somewhere?
Both tunnels looked the same.
Choosing risked going in the wrong direction.
But the longer I waited, the farther they’d be.
This was a lose-lose scenario. I didn’t know what to do.
My attention latched on to the fox girl. “Did you see which way the group of people went?”
“How long ago?” she asked noncommittally.
“Um. . .” I waved my arms. “Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t been in the tunnels today until you arrived.”
“Why’d you ask, then?” I snapped, pacing toward one tunnel, then backtracking to the other, looking for clues. Maybe Rissa or Olive had dropped something.
Turning on the flashlight on my phone, I tried to pierce the darkness ahead, but it barely made a dent.
She shrugged. “You could’ve been referring to yesterday.”
I turned away, groaning under my breath.
Could I yell their names? If I dared, would they even answer?
As I swept my eyes across the dirt floor where the light reached, the lack of sticks or leaves or typical foresty things caught my attention.
In fact, when I swung back around—yep, Ms. Lives Under a Tree but Doesn’t Notice Visitors stood on an actual rug.
It was like one of those Persian designs, with blue-and-red patterns.
She’d hung the lantern on a hook in the wall, casting warm light onto a soft mossy shelf beside it with.
. . I squinted. Books? Either I’d hit my head harder than I’d realized, or these fae weren’t quite what I’d pictured.
“Please, miss, you have to help me,” a trembling voice said from the closest tunnel.
Fear coated the voice, returning me to myself. I searched for the owner.
It was a little boy.
I gasped in recognition—I’d babysat him a couple years ago, right before his family had moved out of town. Had the fae taken him too?
“Shoo,” the fox girl, Lore, said to the kid, unimpressed, waving a hand at him like he was a fly on the wall.
Okay, she was obviously in on the kidnapping scheme.
“Leave him alone,” I yelled, moving to stand between her and the kid. “Where’d you put the others?”
“Others?” Her brow furrowed as she glanced between me and the kid. “They tend to hunt solo.” Though her body language remained relaxed, I got the sense she was a little unhinged.
She reached into her pocket.
I tensed. Raising the metal weeder and shovel again, I braced myself for whatever she might do.
Lore pulled out something small and round. It looked like. . . a mirror?
Holding it up in our direction, she said, “Let’s see who you really are.”
“Me?” I squeaked, then realized she’d spoken to the boy. I glanced behind me, wondering what she expected him to do with a mirror, only to find him scuttling back with a hand over his face, making strange almost-growling noises.
“What the. . .” I muttered, turning back.
Catching a glimpse of the reflection, I gasped.
Whirling around, I expected to see the thing from the mirror with horns, hooves, and those beady red eyes, but it was still the little boy. He disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel.
“What was that?” I whispered, heart racing, jaw hanging open. I stared after the creepy thing. That was the second fae that I’d mistaken for a child.
“Just a boggart.” Lore shrugged again.
“A. . . what?”