Chapter 34
I swallowed hard, staring into the forest ahead. Bethesda had her henchman patrolling the property, no doubt, and if the cloak on me fell, if I became visible—I pinched my eyes shut. Heat wrapped itself around my neck, taking sharp hold in my stomach.
In, out. In, out.
I started into the woods, hoping my intuition or mysterious helper would intervene the farther away from the manor I grew.
A sudden crunch echoed ahead, heavy and dense.
Then another. A nightmare emerged from behind a tree to my right, putting both the Wendigo and Misery to shame. This was the thing monsters feared, and I was standing directly in its path. I pulled back and tucked myself down in the thorn bushes at my side, a feisty one snarling at my thigh.
The creature drew nearer, its head dragging through the low-hanging limbs.
Eyes—pink and wandering—protruded from the sides of its head, while a vertical mouth like that of a Venus flytrap sliced through its face.
Twisted, yellow teeth sunk into its lips, drawing blood without any visible concern from the beast. Each arm ended in not one hand, but two, and the smell …
like garbage baking in the midsummer sun.
“What is it?” I asked my helper, quietly as possible.
A Fright, she responded, her voice noticeably shaky.
If she was afraid … then this was bad. I shuddered and shuffled farther into the bush’s recesses.
They stalk about in the Odious Forest, set on a mission to kill and devour anything that steps foot in the queen’s lands. Even the Lores evade them, given the Frights’ vicious and erratic natures.
Awesome. The Fright drew closer, the talons on its four paws tapping together as it searched above and below the canopy by merely straightening and hunching its back.
With every step, my stomach knotted tighter.
Behind loomed the entrance back into Malignant Manor, but I saw no clear path to forge ahead.
I was a sitting duck just waiting to be discovered. If I could just wake up—
My feet left the ground along with the air in my lungs.
The Fright’s jaws—while terrifying from afar—were nothing short of a come-to-Jesus moment as I stared down inside them.
A savage growl rumbled through it. For a moment, I considered begging.
Pleading it to put me down and set me free.
But I knew it’d be a waste of precious breath.
If the Lores who possessed human consciousness wouldn’t hear me out, I hardly believed the animalistic Fright would.
Instead, I did what I had to, summoned the will to live, and readied my magic for the fight of my life.
Hands pressed together behind my back, I drew the image of solid stone in my mind, an earthy perfume filling my nose.
I imagined the rough texture beneath my fingers.
Willed the boulder I’d mindlessly wielded on the river’s edge back home to return to me.
But … nothing came. Not even a pebble returned my call, much less the boulder I’d hoped to summon.
A long, thin tongue covered in finger-length bristles emerged from between the Fright’s yellow teeth. I heaved and flailed my arms—anything to keep that disgusting thing from touching me—when the fire in me finally responded, a low molten gurgle rising in my chest.
In the black, the light beneath my shirt may as well have been a lantern on a hilltop.
A beacon, calling every creature in the vicinity to our exact location.
The Fright recoiled its tongue, searching the woods around us, now riddled with incoming cries, growls, and footsteps.
I seized my opportunity and clapped my now iron-hot hands around the creature’s wrist. The scent of burnt hair and flesh tangled in my nose, but the Fright held tight.
“Are you kidding me?” I screamed.
The forest noises intensified as my words echoed farther and farther into the pitch black.
At first, I thought I’d screwed up; screaming would only attract more unwanted attention.
But upon seeing the strange pack of monstrosities which emerged, I considered it a stroke of genius.
Humanoid in shape, they stalked about at the Fright’s feet, one lunging to bite off a chunk at the ankle.
Again, the savage beast that had me in its grasp hardly flinched, simply kicking it away.
When the small herd attacked as one, however, it became clear they were a threat.
The Fright howled. The trees shook.
Bethesda! She’s coming, my helper yelled. You have to go! You will lose your advantage in this fight if she finds out you discovered her hideout. Run!
I studied the monsters gathered below, their faces bloodied and rabid as they bit off chunk after chunk of the Fright’s flesh, bone now exposed. If I dropped into that mess, it’d be a quick and easy meal. But if I stayed …
“What’s going on up there?” Bethesda shrieked from down the embankment.
Shit, shit, shit. She hadn’t seen me yet.
I still had a chance. Summoning my fire once again, I projected it straight into the Fright’s beady eye and fell ten feet to the ground, hitting the hard dirt.
A crack popped in my ankle, sending a wave of pain up my right knee.
Despite it, I managed to dig my knuckles in the dirt and drag myself into the same bushes I’d hidden in moments before.
Stay there. Help is on the way.
I watched Bethesda and her faithful beasts curve over the hill, my hands balling into fists.
This was it. My fate was sealed. There was no way they wouldn’t find me.
A sudden buzz reverberated off the nearby trees.
When I noticed what was happening, he’d already fully formed at my side, finger placed over his lips: Cillian.
Candlelight reflected in the solarium windows greeted me, not my bedroom.
Rearing back on hands and feet, I dug my nails into the moist dirt beneath one of Fhírinne’s willow trees and found Cillian perched at my feet.
The vein in his neck bulged, stretching the feather tattoo around his throat out of shape, and the green in his eyes was somehow deeper than normal.
Be it the early morning light or the obvious concern behind his stare, I wasn’t sure.
“How’d I get down here?” I asked.
“Celine,” he said. “She went to check on you and saw you thrashing. When she couldn’t wake you, she brought you here to soothe your spirit and call you back to your body. It didn’t work, so she grabbed me. Said she had a bad feeling, and I went in after you. Are you alright?”
I nodded, the Fright’s mighty jaws glaring back in my memory.
If it hadn’t been for Cillian, I doubt I’d have made it out.
What would have happened if I’d gotten lost in the Odious Forest?
Would I have been hunted and devoured by the humanoid pack?
Or would my fate have been worse? Doomed to an eternity alongside the human faces branded into the tree trunks themselves or plastered to Malignant Manor’s floor?
Something told me Bethesda would see to a much worse fate than that.
I shivered as I pushed to sit. Thank God I didn’t have to find out.
At least … not yet. I cleared my throat, Cillian’s patient stare lingering on me.
“I—I’m all right,” I murmured.
“You sure? You took a pretty hefty fall there …”
I nodded. “My ankle hurts a little, but really, I’m fine.”
He took my ankle in his hand, massaging the tension away. “The Fright, huh? You on some crazy mission to get yourself killed or what?”
“Trust me, I didn’t plan to run into that thing.”
“Nobody ever does. But, all things considered, you handled yourself well out there.”
A coy laugh slipped past my lips. I’d nearly gotten caught by Leeran, Envy, and Bethesda.
Not to mention I managed to actually get caught by the Fright.
Handled myself … right. More like I handed myself over.
Lips pursed, I shook my head. “If it weren’t for my friend on the other side, I’d have been a goner for sure. ”
He raised an eyebrow. “Friend?”
“Yeah. There’s this … voice. She comes to me when I need her, helps me wiggle my way out when I get myself into tight spots.
Which is apparently all the damn time in the Shroud.
Does everything on the other side want to eat me or what?
” I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face.
“Thank you, by the way. For leading me out, I mean.”
“You’re very welcome.” He smirked, setting my foot down to sit at my side. “This friend, does she have a name?”
“I haven’t asked, actually. This last visit was the first time I spoke back to her.
She’s smart, knows a lot about the creatures.
She’s like … my guardian angel or something.
” Guardian, the word rattled through my mind, replayed in Bethesda’s voice.
I shuffled to meet Cillian’s gaze. “What is a Guardian, anyway?”
He wound his arms around his knees, perching his chin. “Where’d you hear that term?”
“Bethesda, she mentioned Guardians?”
“She did, huh …”
“Yeah.” I looked him over. “Any idea what she was talking about?”
His lips thinned. “I think Celine is better suited to explain. It’s not my story to share, really.”
Of course it wasn’t. “How about the white wisp? Is that your story to share?”
His grin spread, and my stomach fluttered like it had when he’d set the constellations aflame that night, bringing the sky to life for us both.
He scooted closer. “Pretty cool trick, eh?”
“Trick? I thought you said your magic was art, lionheart,” I teased.
His shoulder bumped against mine. “Come now, don’t be sassy.”
“Hey! I’m allowed to be sassy, considering nobody tells me anything around here. I don’t get it. It’s like any time I want an answer, you two—”
“All right, all right. Simmer down, little shadow.” He sighed and squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll tell you, but it’s a bit complicated. The simple answer is magic.”
I spun to face him head-on. “I’ll take the complicated answer, thank you very much.”
“Ever the interested one, aren’t we?” He smiled, disheveled hair falling over his eye.
“Okay, so, it all hinges on my talisman. Tourmaline is considered a bridge to the spiritual realm. The Shroud is of that realm, though it lies off the main grid: one hand in our world, one hand in another, and yet entirely its own somehow. If I use the talisman, channel it as you find your way through space and time—or connect with your energy when you’re already there—I can hitch a ride on your spiritual energy and use it to pry the gates between worlds open, entering physically.
Much the same way you do. But the Shroud …
it knows I don’t belong there. So, in order to keep from being cast out, I transform myself into something not as easily detectable.
” He lifted his hands and swirled them around, sending a breeze across my cheek. “Air.”
Smart. Very smart. “How do you know? When I enter the Shroud, I mean.”
“I may have only known Feyanna Masterson for a few months, but I’ve known your soul far longer.”
That look in his eyes almost begged me to draw near. To reach out and wrap my hands around his jaw. To pull him close and—
“Okay, it’s my turn to ask you a question,” he interrupted, pulling my stare from his lips back to his eyes.
“Oh yeah? And what might that be?”
He pursed his lips. “When are you finally going to let me take you out?”
The question was so far removed from anything I expected, my tongue caught in my cheek. “I … I don’t think now is the best time. You know, considering, well, everything?”
“I’d argue now is the perfect time for that exact reason.”
“How do you figure?” I smirked.
“Because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, and I want to spend at least one day with you that isn’t overshadowed by fear and darkness. You deserve that, Fey.” He leaned closer, eyes locked on me. “We deserve that after everything we’ve been through.”
His words settled in my stomach like warm honey.
He wasn’t wrong, and I really wanted to, but …
it felt so selfish. I should be focused on doing everything in my power to stop Bethesda from whatever the hell she had planned.
To ensure that she and the Lores were taken down.
To protect the woken world from the sting of her magic.
Cillian’s face fell. “If you don’t want to—”
“No,” I cut him off, wrapping a hand around his knee. “I … I’d love to go out with you.”
His face lit up. “Meet me at the grand staircase tonight around, say, six?”
“Sounds perfect.” My heart beat harder than it had as I faced death in those shaded woods. Who knew the only thing scarier than death was truly living?