Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
CLAYTON
Going through Mal’s portal had been a terrible idea, and if he could have, Clayton would have turned around and gone right back the way he came.
It was similar to the time during the fight with the kidnappers when Clayton had hallucinated that he’d left his body. It had held a nagging sense of otherness that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Currently, the nagging sense of otherness was hitting him like a load of potatoes flying from the back of a truck. It didn’t come all at once, but in burst after burst, until Clayton was buried in the sensation.
It was far worse than it had been the last time. Clayton’s body felt completely alien to him, small and ill-fitting. As the portal carried him away to their destination, the sensation grew worse and worse until finally, he thought he would explode like a grape from its skin.
Just when Clayton thought he’d go mad, there was a pop, and he was free. His entire body tingled, and he felt lighter, like he’d shed something he never needed but had been stuck with his whole life. Now it was like his entire being was shimmering moonlight.
It was beautiful.
:Oh no, you fucking do not. Get out of my playground: A familiar voice rang out, and suddenly Clayton found himself in the dark space again, like before.
Only this time, he had a body and the space was much smaller.
That probably had something to do with the people jammed in there with him.
There was much muffled cursing and such going on, but Clayton ignored it in favor of pondering the mystery of the voice.
It was feminine and had a motherly energy to it.
Clayton couldn’t help but feel like whoever she was, she was there to help him.
:Don’t worry, dear, that wasn’t about you.:
Clayton felt a ghostly touch on his cheek. “Thanks?” He had no idea what was going on, but it never hurt to be polite.
:You’re always welcome here, little traveler, but you have questionable taste in friends. I let some of them through, but one of them simply had to go. He’s not allowed here, and he knows it. Honestly, I don’t know why he bothered trying to come at all.:
Clayton knew exactly who the voice was referring to, and was surprised to discover the alarm in his chest. “You didn’t hurt him, did you? Mal is kind of an asshole, but he’s almost tolerable when you get to know him.”
“Wow. I love you too, Red,” Mal’s irritated voice came from somewhere below Clayton’s elbow. “It’s always nice to be appreciated.”
“You’re still here? Who did you get rid of then?” The first was said to Mal, and the second part was to the voice in Clayton’s head. “There’s someone with me worse than Mal?”
Clayton’s arm stung where Mal’s voice had come from. “Ow! Did you just bite me?”
“You were being mean for no reason.”
:Mal is absolutely delightful, Clayton. I’m happy you brought him.:
“Delightful? Mal?? Ow! Stop that!” Clayton wanted to rub his arm, but he was trapped in place. Being in a small, dark area wasn’t his idea of a good time.
“Stop randomly insulting me, then.” There was a touch of hurt to Mal’s voice.
“Are the two of you always like this?” Marshall’s voice came from somewhere near Clayton’s feet, which likely explained the foot in Clayton’s face.
“Are you always useless?” Mal retorted. “Why don’t you magic us out of here, pretty boy?”
There was a suspiciously long pause before Marshall said, “I, um… I seem to have lost access to my power. Jack? What about you?”
There was no answer.
:You’ll be fine without that one, dear. Oh my, he’s very angry at me right now. How amusing.:
“Are you talking about Jack?” Clayton asked the voice. “Why would he be angry?”
“I was clearly talking about Jack. Clayton, are you doing okay? Did you get hit in the head again?” Marshall’s voice radiated concern.
“I’m great,” Clayton responded absently. “I’m trying to get answers from our new friend.”
Dead silence met his statement.
“Can… can you not hear her?” Clayton hadn’t even considered the possibility that he was the only one who could. Marshall was a dreamwalker for Vis’s sake. Mental communication was one of the main tools in their bag of tricks.
:Neither of them belongs to me, so why would I talk to them? Your mate is pretty cute, though. I might consider talking to him if he asks nicely.:
“He’s not my mate!” Clayton said much louder than any three people might want while trapped in such a small space.
“At some point, I’m going to start taking all of this personally, Red,” Mal said with a hmph in his voice.
“Seriously though, where’s Jack?” Marshall began to thrash around, and Clayton was certain he was about to get kicked in the face, but apparently, that honor belonged to Mal.
“Ow! What the fuck, dreamwalker? Do you treat all of your subjects this way, or am I just special?” Mal spat out the word dreamwalker like it was a swear.
“Oh, shut up. I don’t treat people like subjects. Now get out of my way, if you’re not going to be useful.” Marshall twisted and shoved, and once again, Clayton wasn’t the one who got struck by a flailing limb.
“I don’t give a shit who you are, asshole. If you do that again, I will fucking kill you,” Mal snarled.
“Try it and see what happens,” Marshall replied with all the confidence of someone used to being the biggest power in the room.
If Clayton didn’t get them all out of there, he was going to be crushed to death, because there wasn’t enough room for the impromptu dick swinging contest he was being subjected to.
“Excuse me, my dear lady, but could I trouble you to help us get out of here?” Clayton asked the voice.
“Did you know you get extra proper when you’re stressed out?” Mal asked.
“Are you talking to the voice you were hearing?” Marshall asked at the same time, talking over Mal.
:Of course, dear. Anything for you. I apologize for the lack of hospitality, but I thought you’d want to be brought here.:
Clayton was about to ask where here was, when the space in front of him opened up to reveal a great big massive bit of eyeblinding brightness. Clayton couldn’t see a thing, but it didn’t matter because all three of them were tumbling out of the tiny space to spill out onto the ground.
Clayton had rolled clear and avoided the expected flailing around that usually occurred under such circumstances, but Mal and Marshall were snarling and snapping like wrestling schoolboys.
Clayton blinked away the spots in his vision and sat up.
When his vision cleared, he was flummoxed.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, maybe a dank cave, or an old abandoned warehouse—that was where he assumed kidnappers generally hung out—but the beautiful, flower-covered glade surrounding them was certainly not it.
He turned back to his companions, who had finally managed to extricate themselves from each other only to see…
“A tree,” Clayton stated. “We were inside a tree.”
:That’s my tree, so be polite.:
“It’s absolutely lovely.” Clayton didn’t need to lie. It was a stunning specimen. It was so massive that it dwarfed the glade with its majestic presence. Its branches stretched out wider than the palatial Boston chapter house, and its crown soared higher than Clayton could see.
It was so big, in fact, that Clayton wasn’t sure why they’d been so cramped inside. Surely the tree had room enough for an entire convention of people if she had wanted to host one.
He decided not to vocalize the thought since the tree had been so polite to him.
Mal pushed himself to his feet, aiming a kick at Marshall and knocking him over before he managed to get to his feet. “Is this your friend?” He motioned to the tree.
“I think it is.”
“Did it tell you where we are?”
“Not yet. Excuse me, madam, could you tell me where we are?”
:I certainly could.:
Clayton waited, but the tree said nothing else. “Will you?”
:I think I’ve helped you enough for now. It’s unwise to give children too much help; otherwise, they’ll never learn to survive on their own.:
“Okay… I think the tree is done helping us,” Clayton said, mostly concealing the urge to pout.
:For now:
“Right.” He wasn’t certain why, but he felt comforted knowing the tree wasn’t going to ditch him entirely.
“Have either of you seen Jack?” Marshall was up and shooting Mal a dirty look. “I can’t contact him with my magic.”
Mal sneered at him and didn’t reply.
:Tell him his friend is fine. Just throwing a tantrum. He’s very upset with me right now.: The tree sounded rather proud of herself.
“Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name, madam?”
:What a polite boy. You may call me Astraea.:
“My friend Astraea told me to tell you that Jack is ok. I don’t think he’s allowed to be here for some reason.”
Astraea sniffed haughtily. :He certainly is not. But you’ll see him again once you leave here.:
“She said we’ll see him again once we leave.”
Marshall’s expression was complex, but Clayton could tell he was relieved. “Thank you, Clayton. Can you ask Astraea why I can’t use magic here?”
:You can tell him that I’m not a tour guide.:
“I don’t think she wants to answer any more questions.”
Marshall frowned but accepted Clayton’s words. “I won’t be much help finding your kids without my magic.”
“Are you missing children too?” A feminine voice cut in as a woman popped into view.
Marshall startled badly and whirled on the newcomer. “Where did you come from? Why didn’t I sense you?”
Marshall’s face paled as understanding sank in, and Clayton felt sorry for the man. He’d been relying on magic his entire life to help sense the world around him. Losing access to it must have been like losing his eyesight or hearing.
“Easy, stranger. We mean you no harm.” This was from a man who had, like the woman, seemingly stepped out of thin air.