My heart began to beat so hard it nearly pounded its way out of my chest.
I glanced at the others and saw they were still fast asleep.
How on earth can they sleep through this?
“Liesl! Renée!” I whispered. “WAKE UP!” I reached out and shook Liesl’s shoulder hard.
She did not react.
No one could sleep through that.
I sat up, now more alarmed with my unmoving companions than the mysterious threat in the dark woods.
I could barely see their faces.
It’s as if the darkness is a physical thing.
Tundra and Aspen shifted as I moved, momentarily distracted by what was happening in camp.
I reached for the half-empty water sack, and splashed water onto Liesl’s face.
No reaction.
It’s like she’s drugged.
I splashed some onto Renée’s face, and got the same result. After a moment’s thought I flicked water onto Chance’s face.
No response.
Well this is weird.
I had no idea what had drugged my companions, but I realized that, since there was an obvious close danger, I was thankful I was awake.
And I was grateful for my two wolf familiars.
Aspen and Tundra shifted against me, unwilling to move from my side. They licked my hand and glanced at Renée, Liesl, and Chance, but then their attention returned to whatever was out there in the dark.
They no longer growled, but stared into the darkness, their ears pricked forward, their hackles half raised.
They didn’t even blink.
I held my breath, staring into the darkness, trying to pierce it to see what was there.
Chance had shown me the fireflies on the school lawn by the previous night’s full moon, so I knew the moon should be nearly full again tonight. There should have been enough light to see by, even with the thick forest canopy.
Yet my eyes couldn’t penetrate the darkness beyond camp.
I glanced at the fire, which had been reduced to glowing coals. I threw on a new branch, then another, and soon the flames returned.
I pulled on my shoes. The academy uniform footwear was a cross between a shoe and a low boot, the leather rising past my ankle, with the latch on the outside of each foot.
I needed to be ready.
My heartbeat thundered in my chest so loud I was sure it was audible to what lurked beyond the camp.
Whatever was out there, I hoped it was afraid of fire.
Or at least wary.
Firelight flickered and jumped, illuminating the trees around us momentarily.
I kept trying to peer out and see what had Aspen and Tundra’s attention.
What is that?
Suddenly, the wind kicked up, tossing the tree branches overhead to and fro in an unexpected gale.
The bushes just beyond the firelight suddenly moved.
Aspen and Tundra began growling again.
I felt so alarmed that I hastily got to my feet, nearly teetering over in my haste.
I heard a sudden, loud HUFF behind the bush to my left. The thing had moved.
The wolves growled even louder, shifting their gaze several feet toward the new location.
I’d had enough.
I kicked at Liesl and Renée hard, the leather toe of my shoe hitting their bodies midsection. I felt my shoe hit Renée’s hipbone.
The blows probably made a bruise. They should have awakened.
But they remained asleep.
What the hell is going on?
Suddenly, there was a crashing sound, and the bushes seemed to part.
At the same time, a dark shadow descended on the camp, foot by foot, and I could see the line of dark, of blackness, of the absence of light, moving swiftly, inch by inch, creeping toward us.
It was the weirdest, the most frightening thing I’d ever seen.
I looked wildly around but could see nothing moving above that would have cast such a deep shadow.
I looked back at the large bush.
Something was coming. Something big.
The wolves were going crazy, growling and spitting, their coats standing straight up on their backs, so high the hair wavered with their movement.
No longer worried about the source of the shadow, or even if it was a shadow, I fixed my eyes on the dark form emerging from the bush not a dozen feet from me.
The line of darkness advanced until it was right next to me. Then it crept closer and touched me. Then it inched its way past me.
And I was in shadow.
I could see out, to the fire and my companions, but when I looked down at my hands and feet, a dark, filmy shroud seemed to cover my eyes.
“WAKE UP!” I shrieked at my companions, who seemed a million miles away beyond the shroud of shadow.
The wolves snarled and barked and raged at the thing as it advanced.
It was nearly as tall as I was, and as wide as I was tall.
It HUFFED as it came, step by step, slowly, almost hesitatingly, only I did not get the sense it was hesitating at all.
I got the sense that this was how it hunted. The shadow, then the creature.
Maybe it has to wait for the darkness to cover its prey before it can come closer.
It was so close now that I could smell the stink of its breath.
Waitaminute.
If its breath was hot and this smelly, then it stood to reason it was not a specter, like the banshee, but an animal, like the other animals in the fae forest.
And if it was an animal then it had vulnerabilities.
I took a step back and grabbed a branch out of the fire, and brought it to the forefront, brandishing it like a sword.
The thing stopped advancing.
It HUFFED in seeming frustration.
I held my breath for a heartbeat. Then a second heartbeat.
It took another step.
Aspen let out a deafening snarl and leaped at it, her sister less than a second behind her.
The wolves were on it, whatever it was, and my heart skipped a beat as they snarled and growled and bit at it.
I could hear their jaws snapping.
I took a step forward, thrusting my branch forward, the flames flickering out into the almost palpable darkness that surrounded the thing.
I was rewarded by a YELP! that I knew did not come from either Aspen or Tundra.
The darkness faded about ten percent. Just enough for me to realize it was manifested by the animal we fought.
I jumped forward, pushing my flame farther out.
I could see the faint image of a large brown expanse of fur.
Suddenly, the thing roared loudly, and its hot, rank breath blew forward into my face.
Then it grew larger in front of my eyes, and it was no longer shorter than me, it towered above me.
It was huge.
Aspen and Tundra still fought it, jaws snapping as they lunged and pulled back, again and again and again.
I quickly darted back to the fire and grabbed a second flaming branch from the edge, and pulled it back to the fray.
I noticed the thick darkness had blanketed almost the entire camp.
I pushed both the flaming branches out and nearly touched the beast, and it screamed again.
I lunged forward again, daring to tap the thing with my blazing boughs.
The light of the fire I wielded only reached out a few inches before being enveloped by what I now guessed was a spell of darkness.
As they touched the beast that towered above me, behind the shadow, I saw brown fur again.
Coarse, brown fur.
Holy crap, this looks like a bear.
I was no longer afraid.
The second I felt my fear dissolve, the second I felt I understood the situation better, Aspen and Tundra became ten times as furious.
They leaped and lunged at the bear, throwing themselves against it, biting at it, ferocious in their intent.
I rushed forward again and
held my makeshift torches to the beast’s fur long enough for them to light the thing on fire.
The flames caught and began to spread upward.
They illuminated a massive bear face; a wide, snarling snout, small, glowing red eyes, and a fat, furry face.
The flames licked up its chest, spreading slowly to encompass its head.
It cried out and dropped to all fours.
Aspen and Tundra followed it down, biting it viciously, their mouths rimmed with the bear’s blood.
As soon as it began to crumple, the darkness fell away as if washed off by rain, and my companions woke up.
“OH MY GOD!” Liesl yelled, struggling to stand in all the commotion.
“HOLLY! THAT’S A BUGBEAR!” Renée called out.
“Yeah, I figured that out, thanks,” I cried.
It would have been comical if not for what happened next.
The bear was on the ground, but seemed to rally, and lunged at the nearest wolf.
It grabbed Tundra in its jaws and bit down.
My wolf familiar yelped loudly.
“TUNDRA!” I cried out, rushing forward. I slammed one of the flaming branches down on the bear’s head.
It let go of my wolf, who limped back to my side.
“HEY!” I heard Chance cry out.
“Here, let me,” Renée was there, lifting her arms, muttering an intricate sentence that was forgotten as soon as my ears heard it.
The bear cried out as a bolt of lightning lashed out from the third-year and arced across at it, scorching it across its length.
More spell casting and Renée unleashed a second bolt of lightning at the bear.
The lightning opened up a slash of bloody red surrounded by scorched fur across its back, and had left one of its ears on fire.
It dropped and lay unmoving.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Confusion
We sat around the campfire, which we’d built up to flame several feet high, and discussed what had just happened.
Tundra in my lap. Her legs had been crushed by the bugbear’s jaws.
“You’ve got to send her back, Holly,” said Renée. “She will heal almost instantly in the fae realm forest.”
I nodded through my tears. I needed to get a hold of my emotions if I was going to perform the spell correctly.
“Here,” Chance handed me a handkerchief from his pocket.
I smiled gratefully and blew my nose.
It was amazing how much one nose could run when one was trying to hold back one’s tears.
I blew it a second time, then tried to perform the spell.
It worked on the second try. Both wolves disappeared.
I hoped I would need them for a while.
“They can come back anytime, she’s already healed,” Renée assured me.
“What happened while I was out?” Chance asked. He hadn’t been too happy when we told him he’d been unconscious for half the day and night.
We filled him in. He glowered.
“Not how the picnic was supposed to go,” Chance murmured.
“I’m surprised the school hasn’t sent out a search party,” said Liesl. “What about your rabbit familiar, and my ermine familiar?”
“We aren’t even sure they ever reached the school,” said Renée. “It’s clear from the bugbear attack that we somehow traveled past the school grounds and boundaries.”
“Isn’t there some kind of barrier?” I asked. “Wouldn’t we have seen it when we passed through it?”
“Not if it had been tampered with,” Renée grimaced. “Something foul is going on here, and I’d like to know what it is.”
“How are you feeling, Chance?” Liesl asked.
“I’m still feeling dizzy and hot, but no longer enchanted,” Chance grimaced.
“Something is definitely going on here,” said Renée. “And the first thing we need to do is get back to the school.
“I think we should all call our familiars back,” said Chance. “They obviously got waylaid on their tasks to find the school.”
“It took Aspen a ridiculous amount of time to return from the stream with the water,” Renée said.
Chance sat up. “This is more than just some prank or mischievous enchantment. It smacks of an attack on the school.”
“The school ... and possibly us, specifically,” Renée said grimly.
“Well, I don’t think anyone is going to get much more sleep,” Chance said. “Plus, the sun will be up in less than an hour. I think we should pack up and get going.”
“But how?” Liesl asked. “We seemed to be lost yesterday; that’s why we stopped and camped. Well, that plus you basically passed out.”
Chance grimaced. “I’m not sure why. I’m guessing whatever has worked magic on the school grounds, did this to me.”
“Or you just might be really ill,” I said. “You said you were still dizzy and pretty warm with fever, Chance.”
“Well, let’s hope he’s not too ill to travel,” said Renée. “We really need to get back today. Now, everyone: let’s eat breakfast. At dawn, we ride!”
Huh?
Renée grinned at us and bit into the last sandwich in her bag.
We all tried to remain calm and eat our last food.
“You sure it’s okay to eat everything?”
“Shouldn’t we make it last? What if we’re here another day?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure about this.”
Renée just smiled mysteriously and winked.
We all performed the spell to bring our familiars back. Aspen and Tundra returned to me whole, happy, and well.
Liesl’s snowy ermine Snowbear returned, happy to see her.
Chance’s hawk returned, too, and so did Renée’s rabbit Jade.
As dawn pinked the forest, bestowing a rosy glow on the forest, we all stood up with our familiars.
Renée glanced at everyone, nodding. “Ready?”
We were ready.
“This way,” Renée said, turning and walking off in a seemingly random direction.
We spent the next twenty minutes hiking up a slope, until we were on a small ridge, looking down on the deep forest.
“Okay,” Renée said, pointing. “See the sky? We don’t want to go that high. We just want to clear the treetops. Now, everyone hold hands. Grip your neighbor’s hand tightly. Do not let go, no matter what happens. Don’t worry about the familiars; they will follow.”
I glanced at Liesl with a questioning look, but she just shrugged and took my hand, clutching it tightly.
I took Renée’s hand, and she took Chance’s; he held Liesl on his other side, as we formed a small circle.
Renée nodded at each of us, then closed her eyes and began uttering an intricate spell.
“Ohhh,” whispered Chance. “I’ve heard of this: It’s a third-year spell that ...”
“Shhhhh,” Renée said, smiling, her eyes still closed.
“Sorry,” Chance whispered.
Renée began uttering the spell again.
She spoke quietly but fervently in Welsh, her eyes tightly closed, her chin dipped almost to her chest.
“Bwrw ni i fyny, O frenin celyn. Dewch â ni i gopaon y coed, helpwch ni, cadwch ni’n ddiogel, nes i ni gyrraedd adref.”
which translated to:
~
“Cast us up, O Holly King. Bring us to the tops of the trees, help us, keep us safe, until we get home.”
~
Renée chanted the spell over and over, in a long rhythm that ran together, her voice gathering strength and becoming stronger each time.
And we began to rise in the air.
Our feet left the ground, and we rose slowly, foot by foot, until we were at least a hundred feet up. And we rose more, we kept slowly levitating skyward, Renée chanting the whole time.
We finally slowed our ascent when we reached the top of the trees.
We must’ve been at least two hundred feet off the ground.
As we came to a
stop and hovered there, Renée opened her eyes. She turned her head until she saw a white column of light rising from the ground. It looked nearly fifteen miles away.
A dark fog shrouded the forest around us, and came to a stop about two-thirds of the way to the column of white light.
Renée fixed her eyes on that column, and our small circle slowly swung around and then we began drifting toward the column. Slowly at first, then faster after a few minutes.
I looked back and saw Aspen and Tundra were floating in the air, following my path, as was Snowbear the snowy ermine, Jade the rabbit, and Chance’s hawk.
I must ask him what he named the hawk, sometime soon.
We drifted across the treetops, our dangling feet barely clearing the leaves, carried by the magic of Renée’s spell.
I felt stress and worry drop away as the source of the light came into view.
It was the Academy. The column of white light rose from the spire atop the astronomy tower, disappearing into the blue sky.
Renée uttered a few more words and we descended onto the front lawn of the school, where the Headmistress stood, among many others, to meet us.
As our feet touched down, she walked up to greet us.
“Well done, Miss Page! Very well done.”
Renée finally nodded, and we released our hands; then she turned to the headmistress. “Professor Ó Baoghill, Chance is ill,” Renée said, a worried look on her face.
As I watched, the headmistress waved her hand and uttered a spell, at which the column of light winked out.
She saw me staring and smiled. “The column is lit whenever a student goes missing, to help them find their way back,” she said. “It is especially useful when the missing student is a third-year or above, who has already learned the levitation spell.”
Liesl and I were astonished.
Renée was helping Chance up to the school doors, while he protested.
“I’m fine, I’m fine! I swear, Renée stop being such a mother hen ...” said Chance.
“You’re burning up with a fever; you need to go to the hospital wing,” Renée replied, ignoring his protestations.
The rest of the day was lost in chaos.
Apparently, the whole school had been in an uproar when we hadn’t returned from the forest. Upperclassmen had been searching for us the whole night.
Faerie Misborn Page 18
