Chapter 17 Hard Knocks
Hard Knocks
Eloise
“No matter how many times you tell me that shades don’t have to sleep every night, it won’t help me stay on this beast. I can barely keep my eyes open.
” We’ve been riding for hours. Damien seems obsessed with putting the caravan as far behind us as possible.
I’ve watched Warbill’s head bob several times on the back of Borus, and I’m convinced he’s sleeping while sitting up at this point.
“Had I known you would deprive me of sleep, I might have stayed with Jaqual.”
Damien forms from the shadows beside me and scowls. It was a low blow, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. “Fine. If I remember correctly, there’s a safe house about a mile from here…if it’s still there. Warbill. Warbill!”
Warbill startles awake. He was asleep, the lucky bastard. “Yeah?”
“Does the safe house at Barrel Pines still exist?”
He nods, slowly looking around. “I think so, although it’s been years, you understand. Not too far from here.”
Damien snorts. “Lead the way.”
We’ve been following two ruts in the underbrush that could be called a road if one were feeling generous, but Warbill takes a hard left into a trackless wood.
Romulus snorts at the seemingly impenetrable thicket, the branches of the trees too low and tangled to move through, but Warbill and Damien use the shadows to bend branches to allow us passage.
The rabble beasts’ paws tangle in the dense foliage, requiring we pause to free them.
Above us, old growth chokes off the moonlight.
Our progress is slow. Tedious. The air is suffocatingly close.
When the forest finally opens again, I inhale deeply in relief, thankful for the room, the air, the light. A shack comes into view, surrounded by a deep layer of dead, undisturbed leaves. It’s clear this safe house hasn’t welcomed any recent visitors.
Damien opens the front door, and a blast of stale air invades my nostrils even before I dismount. Romulus sneezes and shakes his head. “It’s safe,” he says.
I’m so tired, it could be a rat-infested cave, and I’d happily sleep on the stone floor.
I dismount and remove Romulus’s tack, setting him free to hunt in the surrounding woods, and then I enter the tiny cottage.
I’m relieved to find there are two beds with bedding folded and stacked at the end of each, although everything is covered in a thick layer of dust. A fireplace and a stack of old wood await us on one wall with a cauldron on an arm that can swing over the fire.
Out the back window, I see the outline of a small outhouse beside a hand pump for water.
Warbill sidles up to me and rests his hands on his hips, scowling at the accommodations, as Damien begins stacking wood for a fire. “I think the back of Borus might have been the better option.”
“Ye of little faith,” I mutter, drawing on my bond with Phantom.
I mumble the spell they feed me and snap my fingers.
A breeze starts near our feet, sparking with magic as it slithers around our ankles, kicks up dust, and spirals, corralling the dirt in a cyclone of power.
The mattresses and pillows give up years’ worth of grit that joins the cloud of filth.
Both mattresses fold in half, cover themselves in sheets and blankets, and return to their frames, dressed in perfect corners with blankets layered cozily on top.
The tornado of magic sweeps all the dirt and grime and insect husks up the chimney, blowing out whatever obstructions have built up there over time. A storm of leaves and sticks, along with flapping, bat-like things, falls toward the backyard beyond the window.
Finally, with a flick of my fingers, the logs Damien has stacked ignite.
Damien steps back from the growing blaze and slants a smug grin in Warbill’s direction. “In case you were wondering why I almost ran Jaqual through for daring to touch my woman.” He takes me into his arms and spins me around.
“She is easy to have around, I will admit,” Warbill says, drifting to his side of the room.
Moments later, I’m under the covers, tucked into Damien’s side. It takes me precious little time to fall asleep.
The grandfather clock in the corner of the parlor of Harcourt Manor chimes one time as I bring the cup of tea to my lips.
I breathe deeply of Grams’s rosewater perfume mixed with the scent of the fire and the soft feel of the green velvet sofa beneath me.
And then a pale face fringed in black bangs leans into my field of vision, her eyes blinking from behind black-rimmed glasses.
“Fuck yeah!” Maeve says. “I thought I’d never catch you sleeping. ”
I set down the cup in my hand and pull my best friend into a hug as a laugh bubbles up my throat. “Oh, I missed you so much!”
“Then why haven’t you come to see us? Do you have any idea how bad your parents’ Hitch and Cast spell tastes? I’ve been drinking that shit night after night, trying to reach you. I finally tried it during the day, and here you are. Are our timelines out of sync?”
“No, I’m sleeping during the day today. And honestly, things have been so busy, I haven’t been sleeping much at all.” I give her a rundown of what’s happened in the month since I saw her last and watch her face grow more and more concerned.
“If you’re heavily outnumbered and things aren’t safe for you on Tenebris anymore, why not come back home?
Harcourt Manor is big enough for all of us, Eloise, and the heat is officially off you from everything that went down with Tony and his goons.
As far as the police are concerned, you’d put the house up for sale and were living in New York for months before the shootout on your lawn happened. ”
“You managed that?”
“Easy enough with a little magic. Anyway, there’s no reason you can’t move back, especially now that you’re a shade.”
I sit back down on my grandmother’s old sofa and fold my hands. “Despite everything, I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Damien is the rightful king of Stygarde, and I am the rightful queen. Our people need us.”
“His people.”
“Our people. I’m not from there, but I see how they’re being treated.
An entire world at the mercy of a spoiled brat and his evil wife.
And if I’m being honest, I have a vendetta to settle with her father as well.
I will not give up, and I will not allow Damien to either, not to those evil bastards. ”
She sighs and folds her tattooed arms. She’s wearing a sleeveless purple mock turtleneck with a full skirt sporting a pattern of purple Scottie dogs. So Maeve. “What will you do if you don’t have the soldiers necessary to win this war?”
I study my fingers. Damn, I need a manicure. “I have to find more support. There’s no other way.” I lift an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose the Gowdie family would help us?”
“Will the Gowdie witches help a family of shades? That would be the day.” She snorts.
“But you know I’ll help you when the time comes.
As long as you can open a portal for me to get there, my magic is yours.
” She drums her fingers on her biceps. “I’m more powerful than I look, but unfortunately, I can’t replace thousands of men. ”
I squeeze her hand, so thankful for her friendship, it brings me to tears. “Why were you trying to reach me anyway?”
She blows out a breath, her red lips spreading into an uncharacteristically wide smile. “I asked Ren to marry me, and she said yes.”
“What?”
“We’re getting married!”
“You are?” I squeal, remembering all that Ren did for me when I was in Night Haven. If there were ever a person who was as close to a best friend as Maeve is to me, it is Ren. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have both of you together!”
“I wish she could be here. Hard to cast two people into a dream. She has to wake me up if I stay in too long.”
“Right, of course.”
“Anyway, the wedding is in a week. We both want you there. Do you think you can make it? We’re going to tie the knot at the old sawmill.”
I glance down at my teacup and notice it’s almost empty. We’re running out of time. “If I’m still breathing and we’re not actively at war, I’ll be there.”
Maeve frowns. “My goddess, you’re serious.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
A hint of anger bleeds into her expression. “You know who you should ask to help you? Cassius and Morpheus. It’s their fucking world.”
I narrow my eyes. “That’s actually a great idea. I’m the key. I can bring them to Tenebris if they’re willing to fight.”
“Sounds like a nice side trip for you…after you come for the wedding.” She laughs.
I glance down at the ring of tea at the bottom of my cup. “I love you, Maeve. Congratulations.”
“I love you t—”
I wake in the tiny cottage, tucked into Damien’s side, and blink as my brain processes that I did, in fact, see my friend tonight. That was no ordinary dream.
And Maeve’s suggestion is the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.