Chapter 36
Chapter
Thirty-Six
Almost done. We were almost done.
I slumped, exhausted. Then, I crawled away a little, wanting to put distance between myself and the sounds of a sea monster cracking bones and slurping entrails right behind me.
“Cecil,” I mumbled. “Come back.”
Nothing happened.
A wave of panic smacked me like a wet fish—all the dread with none of the adrenaline. Cecil should be back by now. He promised me he wouldn’t mess around. We’d practiced, and his spoil magic let him pop back even when I didn’t ask him to.
“Cecil…”
Donovan scooped me up and held me. His heart was thumping, too. “We must go. Connor has taken a swarm of banwyn into my Kingdom?—”
I pressed my fingers to his lips. “They’re not in Faerie, Donovan.”
His brow furrowed. “Then where…”
I tried again, using the last of my strength. “Cecil! Come here, damnit!”
Nate slumped beside me. “We made a pocket dimension, Your Majesty. Cecil gave us one of Violet’s spare bones, and we made a little pocket room, and anchored it to the bone.
” He waved a length of ivory in the air; it looked like a rib-bone of a mighty beast. “We didn’t open a gateway.
We just opened a worm-door and made a big show of it.
Cecil styled the pocket to look exactly like the throne room of the Kingdom of the Crystal Castle. ”
Fionn’s mouth dropped open. “Do you mean to tell me that Connor is stuck in a small, finite universe, attached to that bone?”
Nate nodded.
“With a swarm of banwyn?”
“And Cecil.” My voice came out as a soft mournful howl. “He promised me he’d come right back.”
Bronwyn put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s only been a few minutes.”
“Time moves faster in smaller universes,” I mumbled. “There’s no way to compare, so we tested it out. It’s roughly four minutes here to one hour in there.” I checked my watch. “He’s been in there for almost five hours.”
“No,” Cress whispered.
Donovan held me tighter.
Five hours. Oh, God.
Cecil knew the risks; he promised to come home as soon as he could at the first sign of danger.
I swallowed. A lump in my throat almost choked me. “Cecil…”
Connor probably killed him the second he realized he was trapped. Connor could have snapped his neck as soon as he realized Cecil wasn’t me. The banwyn might have sensed his fear and swarmed him.
Cress started to cry. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see their distraught faces. Even if we won… if Cecil was hurt, or dead, then we still lost.
We sat in silence for a minute or two. Nate began to sing a hymn. Tears ran down my cheeks, but I had no energy to wipe them away. “Goddamn, Cecil,” I sobbed. “Goddamn.”
A loud pop cracked through the air. “Christ on a bike. What’s the problem now, girlfriend?”
My eyes flew open. Despite my exhaustion, I scrambled to my feet. “Cecil!”
He was back in full duocorn mode—golden hide, icy-white bouncy mane, shining golden horns. He lay on a red velvet chaise-lounge, resting one hoof behind his head. His shining blue eyes were hooded and a little glazed. A cigarette dangled from between his lips.
Moving languidly, as if he were exhausted, too, he plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled a long puff of smoke. “Ahhh.”
I gaped. “What the fuck have you been doing, you bastard?”
“Language, Chosen.” He winked at me. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“I don’t know what you’ve been doing. That’s why I asked! I’ve been so worried, you asshole! You’ve been gone for hours.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think you’d notice, what with you being busy destroying a whole army and whatnot.” He giggled. “The prophecy has been fulfilled. The Devourer has become the devoured.”
There was a long, long moment of silence. Everyone blinked and stared at him.
I found my tongue first. “But— You— Connor—” I swallowed and tried again. “You meant to tell me that you were…”
He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Blowing him?” He took another puff on his cigarette. “Oh, yeah. Banging him, too.”
“Uhhh—”
Cecil nodded at Donovan. “Your brother talks a big game, but honestly, he’s a soft dom, Your Majesty.
He really thought he was ‘breaking’ the Chosen One.
” He let out a snort. “Seriously, he could have put more effort in. I’ve been choked harder by a bow tie on prom night.
I’ve been spanked more vigorously by my mom.
You know, when someone spits in your mouth, you kinda want it to taste like whiskey and cigarettes, not antacids and fancy breath mints. ”
“Cecil—”
“We did a little rough stuff, but no rougher than what goes down on a Thursday night at Damn Nation.” He saw my face. “That’s BDSM night,” he explained. “Anyway, I was disappointed. I knew I wasn’t going to get any aftercare, but I was hoping to at least be given some reasons to need aftercare.”
I shook my head, bewildered. And embarrassed. “Connor didn’t notice?”
“I thought he’d get suspicious when he saw that I’d stocked the throne room with whips and chains and cuffs, but apparently, the Devourer is not a details-oriented type of guy.”
Donovan finally opened his mouth. “The throne room always has whips and chains.”
“But not fluffy leopard-print cuffs. Or the assortment of bedazzled butt plugs. Connor didn’t notice anything until I got carried away and shoved a ball-gag in his mouth and whipped out my strap-on.”
Donovan nodded. “He realized you were not scared. He guessed you were not the Chosen.”
“Oh, no. I got too enthusiastic and partially popped back into my usual form. Connor copped an eyeful of my massive hard dong.” He sighed. “I guess my giant erection was hard to miss.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Cecil was safe. That was all that mattered.
Cecil got up off the chaise lounge and stretched. “I figured it was a good time to pop back here.”
“So that’s it.” Cress blinked around at all of us. “Isn’t it? It’s over. His assassins are gone.” She looked at me. “Right?”
I nodded. “You really did kill them outside Juliette’s. Although, you might want to check the death rolls, or whatever you guys do, just to be on the safe side.”
“It is over.” Fionn hugged his daughter. “His Middle World army has gone, and his Upper World army is loyal to us. In his absence, they wait for news of the true King’s return.”
The hard lines of Donovan’s face were rapidly softening. He blew out a breath, brushing his lips against my temple. “It is really over.”
I sagged against him. “Connor’s trapped in a pocket dimension. Alone. With no way out.”
“None,” Nate confirmed, waving the bone. “It can only be opened by the makers, and only from the outside.”
“Not alone,” I said. “With a swarm of banwyn. When he realizes he is trapped?—”
“The fear and panic will set in,” Donovan muttered.
“And the Devourer will become… Hmm.” Cecil tapped his chin. “That might be what the prophecy meant.”
A giddy sensation rushed through me, and relief made me lightheaded. Donovan held me upright. I turned and pressed my lips to his. “Take me home, my King.”
His eyes twinkled. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”