22 - Iona #2
“No,” Sebastian says firmly. “You cannot be diverted by lesser threats. Let the others handle it.”
“Your only concern is the Crone,” Zephyra agrees.
“Iona?” Phoebe calls. “Ariadne?”
Renewed hope fills Iona when Phoebe emerges from the forest, surrounded by flickering fireflies that dance over the grass.
“She will not see us,” Sebastian says.
Iona goes to ask why but Zephyra silences her with a firm shake of her head.
“No one can know,” Zephyra reminds her. “We must conceal ourselves or we may lose the element of surprise. I recommend you do the same, but the choice is yours.”
When Phoebe approaches, Sebastian and Zephyra step away in the direction of the carriage and converse amongst themselves in quiet whispers.
“You may warn her if you wish,” Sebastian calls over his shoulder. “Make it quick, and do not trust your eyes.”
As they walk away, Iona swears she can hear Sebastian murmuring to his mother. “Is she ready for this sort of confrontation? We’ll need to keep an eye-”
“What a lovely surprise!” Phoebe pushes a strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear when she reaches them.
Forcing her insecurities down, Iona goes to curtsy, until she notices dark red stains on Phoebe’s white apron, and her fingertips.
“Are you hurt?” Iona asks, reaching for her hands.
Phoebe looks down at them, momentarily alarmed, until she laughs. “Oh! No, I was only picking blackberries. I hardly made it back before nightfall. Would you like one?”
She lifts her small wicker basket, but her welcoming smile turns to a frown when she marks their grim expressions.
“Is anything the matter?” she asks.
“I regret not having seen you at the party,” Iona says. “Did she tell you why it was cancelled?”
Phoebe gives her an odd look, than says, “Crescentia? Of course, she told me everything. Erik is a cad, but that’s a surprise to no one but her.”
Iona lets out a sigh of relief, then gestures to the house. “We must speak in private immediately. You may be in grave danger.”
They convene in the drawing room and Iona takes it upon herself to explain everything, because Ariadne is nearly bursting at the seams with impatient agitation. The letter they’d sent still sits on a table in the foyer, unopened.
“Samaira’s vision warned of an attack tonight. You must stay inside,” Iona says. “Where is the rest of your family?”
“My mother and grandmother left for London today to attend the council meeting.” Phoebe’s face pales when she glances at a clock on the mantelpiece. “But Father went into town this morning. Come to think of it, he should have returned by now.”
Before they can stop her, Phoebe runs to the foyer, takes her broom from its hook, and does not even close the front door behind her when she hurtles into the night sky in the direction of town.
“Phoebe, wait!” Iona conjures wings and takes to the sky after her.
Ariadne does the same, while Sebastian and Zephyra opt to take their carriage. Aster and Wisp jump in with them.
Don’t stop her. Ariadne takes Iona’s hand. She will lead us to the malefician.
We cannot use her as bait! Iona protests. “Phoebe, please! We must be cautious!”
“I cannot see him, I…” Phoebe’s grip on her broom slackens, her torso slumping forward until she falls right off and plummets towards the ground.
Iona yelps, diving down to catch Phoebe before she falls, but a sudden comber of fatigue hits her, impossible to withstand.
“Iona?” Ariadne shakes her shoulder with one hand.
Jerking awake, she sits upright and looks around in a panic. “Phoebe-”
“I’m here,” she says and though she looks frightened out of her wits, she is otherwise unharmed.
Ariadne’s protective shield encapsulates them where they lay in the grass.
“Please, we must go,” Phoebe begs. “I must find my father.”
“Give her a moment,” Ariadne snaps. In a softer voice, she asks, “Are you alright?”
“Yes… Yes, I’m fine.” Iona rubs her forehead.
Ariadne helps her stand, keeping an arm around her waist to steady her.
“Keep close to me,” Ariadne says, “or you’ll fall asleep again.”
Phoebe reluctantly obeys as they press on, but it’s clear she wishes she could run at full speed into town. As they approach, the quiet is unsettling. All around them is deathly still. There are squirrels and birds littering the ground, but not dead. They are all fast asleep.
“Oh dear,” Phoebe points ahead of them.
A girl and her mother lie side by side in the grass on what must have been a morning stroll before they’d collapsed in a heap.
“How long have they been there?” Ariadne murmurs.
They are soon given an indication when they reach Main Street and are accosted by a rancid smell that has them fighting not to gag.
The dark street is littered with sleeping humans, all lying in their own waste.
By the looks of them, they’d been like this for at least a day, more likely two or three.
“They will die of thirst,” Iona whispers. “We must help them.”
“We will,” Ariadne says. “Phoebe, do you see your father among them?”
“No,” Phoebe whispers, her apron pressed against her mouth and nose. “Have you ever heard of anything like this?”
“My grandmother told me powerful maleficians could do this sort of thing but… this is dreadful,” Ariadne says. Do you see Sebastian or Aunt Zephyra? They may be unable to enter town without my help.
Iona shakes her head, then conjures globules of water and sends them floating through the air to the humans’ mouths to keep them alive for a little while longer.
She’s leeching their life force. Iona looks to Ariadne for confirmation, and she nods solemnly.
“Father!” Phoebe calls.
The ground quakes and Ariadne grabs Iona’s arm to pull her closer. A few seconds later, the rumble fades until it is silent again.
“Be quiet!” Ariadne hisses. “Your father won’t hear you if he’s asleep.”
“But how are we meant to find him?” Phoebe asks.
“If he only went into town this morning, it’s possible he might be on the outskirts,” Iona realizes. “He’d have fainted before he could get very close.”
“Right,” Phoebe says, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “Let’s go.”
They run as fast as they can to the edge of town with Phoebe leading the way.
The carriage. Ariadne nearly points but catches herself.
In the distance, the Zerynthos’ carriage sits idle, the horses’ heads hanging low in sleep. As they approach, it becomes clear that Phoebe still cannot see it despite walking right by the carriage, nearly running straight into it.
“Wait,” Ariadne says. “I need to catch my breath.”
While in proximity of Ariadne’s protective magic, Sebastian and Zephyra slowly awaken where they sit slumped on the bench.
“Oh, hang it all,” Zephyra grumbles. “How long were we asleep?”
When Ariadne goes to answer, Sebastian puts up a hand.
“Don’t speak,” he says. “She still cannot see us, can she?”
“We mustn’t linger,” Phoebe says. “Please, we must keep going.”
“Good,” he says. “We will follow.”
“He must be close.” Iona takes Ariadne’s hand again.
They run, with Zephyra and Sebastian following silently, until Iona gets a stitch in her side and starts to fall behind.
“Where is he?” Phoebe’s lip trembles.
The ground quakes again, more violently this time, and they nearly fall to their knees.
“Ugh!” Ariadne cries out.
Iona looks about frantically, then cringes when thousands of worms, springtails, woodlice, centipedes, and all manner of burrowing insects burst up from the soil. They’re everywhere, writhing and swarming until the grass has disappeared beneath them.
“Oh god,” Phoebe wretches.
“Underground,” Ariadne says, just as Iona considers the same possibility.
“Do you know of any tunnels beneath the city? Or perhaps caves?” Iona asks, then screeches and shakes her foot to dislodge a centipede trying to crawl up her leg.
“…Yes. Yes!” Phoebe says with sudden enthusiasm. “When they escaped Salem, my ancestors took shelter within caves in the woods until it was safe.”
“Take us there,” Ariadne says, then uses the staff to repel the insects with a gust of wind and creates a walkway bordered by thin lines of fire in the direction of the forest.
They sprint through the trees, the earth gently quaking all the while, until they reach the caves, which at first appear to be a meager pile of gray rocks. Upon further inspection, they find a newly made tunnel going deep within the earth. Ariadne hesitates.
“Come!” Phoebe yells, taking Ariadne’s wrist and pulling her forward.
“Hey!” Iona yells.
Phoebe lets her go, her eyes widening at Iona’s shout.
“Do not haul her about like that,” Iona says, taking Ariadne’s hand. “Are you-”
“We must press on.” Ariadne’s voice breaks at the sight of the cramped, dark tunnel.
“Keep hold of my hand,” Iona whispers.
“You should leave Phoebe behind,” Sebastian whispers.
Iona looks over her shoulder at him.
“She is too emotionally involved,” he says. “She will only hinder us or give in to recklessness.”
Iona slowly shakes her head no. Phoebe would never forgive them, especially if something awful happens to her father. They have no right to force her to stay behind. Sebastian frowns with disapproval but does not protest further.
Phoebe walks ahead as far as she dares without leaving the protective barrier of Ariadne’s magic. The labradorite stone lights their way through the humid darkness that grows colder with every step.
“Phoebe!” a male voice calls.
Phoebe gasps as they all stop short and listen.
“Phoebe!” the voice screams.
“Father!” She bolts down the tunnel, no longer caring if she stays within the protective shield.
“Wait!” Iona calls.
They sprint after her, and Iona even tries to cast rope around her waist to pull her back, but she disappears into the darkness.
“It may be a trick!” Iona yells after her.
They reach a fork in the tunnel and strain their ears to listen for any footsteps splashing in the wet dirt, but there is naught but eerie silence. Iona conjures another ball of light, holding it up to further illuminate their path.