Chapter Twenty-Two #2
We’re about halfway across the field when Grant freezes. The movement brings me and Ophelia up short, too, and his magic washes over me, not nearly as controlled as it usually is.
His eyes go wide. “Back to the trees! Run!”
We don’t argue. We don’t even hesitate. Ophelia is off first, faster than I am, but I’m quick on her heels. Grant stays put.
“Grant!”
“I’ll catch up.”
He can, I suppose. Then I feel it. See them. Dark shapes burst out of the shadows, and the flowers around us become sudden hazards, trying to trip us and pull us down to the earth.
Ophelia cries out and nearly falls, but I grab her arm, yanking her to her feet. We’ve not run that far, and my heart is pounding already. I don’t know that the trees will protect us. Maybe we should have run to the town instead?
Magic bursts behind us and I fall this time, rolling and pushing at the flowers trying to keep me there. Ophelia swears and grabs at me. I glance back. Grant is surrounded, fighting off fae whose faces I can’t see.
“Come on!” Ophelia says. She pulls my arm.
“We can’t leave him.”
“He’ll catch up. Come on.”
She’s terrified, I realise, voice wavering. Grant tackles one of the fae, and I follow her away from him. They’re still shouting behind us. Will anyone in the town notice, or are they too caught up in their celebrations?
We’re almost at the treeline when three more fae loom out of the dark. Ophelia must recognise the one on the left; she screams and falls back behind me. I throw my arms out. She can get away, surely.
Except… the fae standing before me is one I recognise. And it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t. Aodhan’s power far outstrips mine and Ophelia’s and maybe even Grant’s.
He doesn’t smirk or bluster. I reach back and grab Ophelia. “You need to go.”
“I—”
“Go!”
She runs, but I already know she’s not going to make it. Aodhan signals and the two fae with him break off, chasing after her. The flowers are whipping around my ankles, trying to keep me in place.
“You are not a mere pet at all, are you?” Aodhan muses. I want to look back and check on Grant, though the powerful pulse of his magic has dimmed now. I want to see if Ophelia has made it. Surely, the witch will protect her if she runs into the forest?
“Does it matter?” I reply. I don’t have a cutting or clever remark. Just… does it? Really? The pieces are beginning to slot into place, kind of. As long as Aodhan has the upper hand, it doesn’t matter whether I’m Lark’s plaything or not. He knows he has the advantage.
“I suppose it does not.”
Ophelia screams again. Grant shouts something behind me, and his magic spikes, but as I whirl around, Aodhan’s magic wraps around me and drags me to my knees.
I don’t see either of them before the world goes dark.
I’m rocking when I wake. My cheek presses uncomfortably against smooth wood, and my stomach rolls, skin tingling from too much magic. Not my magic, and not the ambient magic that has never really bothered me about the Otherworld.
I lift my head and groan. Someone lets out an exclamation of surprise, and then there are hands on my shoulders, helping me to sit up.
Ophelia. She looks worriedly at my face. “Are you okay?”
“I… Yeah?” I’ve still got a headache, but nothing feels broken and I’m not missing any limbs. Magic presses down on me, but a spark of my own is inside my chest.
“Thank fuck. Grant still isn’t awake. I’m not sure…”
I look past her. It’s hard to see anything, but moonlight streams through wooden slats above our heads, and I make out Grant slumped on the bench opposite. His eyes are closed, his breathing shallow.
“His magic?”
“He still has it,” Ophelia says. I think she has more reserves left than I do. “I just don’t know if they’re keeping him asleep or not.”
“These are the fae who took you.”
She nods and moves to sit on the bench next to me. Looks like we’re in some kind of wagon, though fuck knows what’s pulling it, since I’ve not seen an animal that wasn’t a fae so far. Maybe it runs on its own. “I couldn’t get away. They grabbed me just before Aodhan knocked you out.”
“He was behind it then?”
“I guess so.” She shrugs. “It would explain why Oisin really was meeting the fae, I suppose.”
“Because they’re all working together?” I frown. It doesn’t really make sense to me. Oisin seemed scared of Aodhan, and he said he’d rather work with Lark than his uncle. He can’t lie.
We sit in silence the rest of the journey.
I don’t know where we’re going, and I stumble over and try the door to the wagon once, but even if we get out of here, I don’t know what we’ll do.
I’ve got a mirror that doesn’t work to scry through, a phone that even if it weren’t dead wouldn’t work, and a bag full of stones without the magic, really, to use them.
Ophelia’s bag has been taken. And Grant is still out of it, though he seems more like he’s sleeping than anything else.
The wagon comes to a jerky stop. Ophelia falls into me, and I reach out for Grant, who slides some way down the bench he’s on but doesn’t fall. It’s a spell on him, for sure. No way he’d have slept through that.
The doors swing open, revealing a faintly lit courtyard and three wary fae. Aodhan isn’t with them. Is he nearby at all, or has he returned to the castle?
“Out,” one of the fae demands. I stand on shaky legs and almost fall when I jump to the ground. Ophelia, coming after me, is much more graceful. The fae hardly look at us at all. They’re focused on Grant, still unmoving, and once we’re out, two of them clamber up into the wagon and carry him out.