A Faerie's Secret (Creepy Hollow Book 4)

by Rachel Morgan

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Marlin says. “This is not your moment to be a hero. Do you really want to watch your own life—your family’s life—go up in flames because you tried to save someone you don’t even know? Do you really think that’s worth it?”

  The man looks tortured, but in the end, with a cry of anger, he crosses the room and removes Gaius’s ring. Then, before I can think to fight back with magic, he grabs my hand and pushes the ring onto it.

  “No!” I shriek. I run for the door, but Saber and Marlin catch me before I’m halfway there. I kick and scratch and hit, but they pin me to the floor. Gaius advances on me, guilt and fear written across his face.

  “Please forgive me,” he says. “I’m only trying to save you.” He catches my flailing hand and hangs onto it. He closes his eyes, and I make one last desperate attempt to get away. I scream and kick and thrash, but Gaius never lets go of my hand.

  I don’t know the moment when I finally lose my Griffin Ability, but I feel it when he begins to draw my core magic out of me. It’s my essence, my energy, the thing that distinguishes me from other magical beings and beings with no magic at all. I slowly grow weaker. Weaker and colder. My vision dims, and I wonder if this will kill me anyway. Is magic what keeps me alive, or can I survive without it?

  Weaker … colder … darker …

  Blackness clouds the edges of my vision as the last of my magic is sucked from me.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  I have nothing. No illusions, no guardian weapons, no magic at all. But I’m not dead. I lie on the cold stone floor feeling weak and sick and … different. As if a hum I was never aware of is gone. Like a background noise you don’t notice until it’s no longer there.

  You have no magic.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here, the tears drying on my face and the chill creeping through my clothes. I’m vaguely aware of the others in the room: the guard pacing in the corner, dealing with his own personal demons; Saber and Marlin conversing with Amon; Gaius hovering near me, almost protectively.

  You have no magic.

  I blink a few times and see the ring back on Gaius’s hand. Is he extra powerful now that he has both his magic and mine? What would he be capable of if he wasn’t constrained by that ring? I want to hate him for taking what should always have been mine, but I can’t muster the strength. Besides, I know none of this was his fault. He was only trying to save me. If only he knew that life as an empty shell isn’t a life worth saving.

  You have no magic.

  The realization hits me again, reminding me of all the things I’ll never do or have. I want to crumple in on myself and cry until there are no tears left inside me. What am I supposed to do now? Who am I without magic? Where can I go? Where will I ever belong?

  I’ve never felt such despair before. I expect it to consume me, to finish me off, but I’m still lying here, very much alive. If anything, I feel more awake than I did just now. Perhaps I’m slowly recovering from the shock of losing everything. At first that makes no sense to me, but then I remember that beings without magic are also capable of healing. Humans get sick and wounded, and their bodies manage to fix themselves.

  “Keep him somewhere secure,” Amon says, nodding toward Gaius. “Somewhere he can’t harm himself or hope to escape. Collecting Griffin Abilities certainly isn’t our focus, but since the opportunity has presented itself, we can make use of it.”

  “Yes, sir,” Marlin says. “We’ve got the Seers at the mulberry house. It’s never been compromised, so—”

  “No. Not there. Keep him at one of the other locations. I don’t want all my assets in one place.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Take the first two Seers somewhere else as well. They don’t all need to be together.”

  I’m distracted from my own misery as I listen to Amon’s instructions. He’s going to use Gaius to steal Griffin Abilities. No more army of special soldiers, like Draven used. He won’t have to keep hundreds of Gifted people under control. Now he can store the abilities in jewelry or other objects until he decides to make use of them. And it doesn’t matter that he’s locked behind bars. Not when he has followers so clearly willing to do his bidding.

  For a moment, I’m reminded of why I’ve always wanted so badly to be a guardian: to protect others. To stop the kind of evil that locked me and hundreds of others in cages and then proceeded to lay waste to our world. The kind of evil that sees the unique magic in others and wants to steal it away. I want to stop that. And now I never can.

  You know you can do all that without being a guardian, right? The memory of Chase’s voice brings color to the dismal grey painted across my mind. You don’t need guardian weapons. You don’t even need magic.

  Don’t need magic? What an unimaginable concept.

  “That will be all for now,” Amon says. “Let me know when the Seer wakes up. It could be a long time still, but I’m a patient man.”

  Through my half-open eyelids, I see Marlin nod and take hold of Gaius. “Get ready to start using your new ability. You’ll be getting us out of here with an illusion.”

  “But … I’ve never used it before. I don’t know how to make illusions.” As Gaius says this, images of guards dragging us away flicker across the walls. “What? How did I …”

  What Gaius doesn’t know is that creating illusions won’t be his problem. Figuring out how to keep them to himself will be.

  “You’ve got about half a minute,” Marlin says, “so you’d better figure it out. And don’t even think about revealing us all so the guards can catch us. We know about your grandmother.”

  Gaius’s fear-filled eyes grow even wider.

  “What must we do with the girl?” Saber asks, walking to my side and nudging my arm with his shoe. Anger burns inside me, sparking life in my limbs. I almost feel strong enough to kick him.

  “Throw her into the ocean,” Amon says.

  My anger freezes as fear takes its place.

  “You can’t do that,” Gaius protests. “You said you wouldn’t kill her if I took her magic.”

  “I know, but I was lying,” Amon explains. “Come now, be reasonable. She knows too much. I can’t let her go back home and tell everyone what happened. Besides, what kind of life can she have without magic? It will be kinder to throw her into the ocean.”

  Kinder? Kinder, my ass! A few minutes ago, sinking into hopelessness, I would have agreed with Amon. And I still can’t begin to fathom how I might live without magic, but the only thing I know now is that I don’t want to die.

  “I look forward to pushing her out the boat,” Saber says, grasping my arm and pulling me up. “Preferably from a great height.”

  I waver on my feet as dizziness spins my head, but I manage to stay upright. I’m still far weaker than normal, and I have no idea how I’m going to fight my way out of this, only that I must. First, we need to get past as many guards as possible. “Gaius.” I wave my hand feebly toward him. Even my voice is unsteady. I hate the sound of it, but the weaker everyone thinks I am, the better. “Picture what you want them to see,” I say, keeping my voice at a croaky whisper. “Hold that image in your mind. Focus. That’s all it takes.”

  The guard and Saber head out, Gaius follows them, and Marlin pulls me along at the back of the procession. “All this trickery getting in and out of here just so he could see two Gifted,” Saber mutters. “They’re not even part of the main plan. If we get caught doing this—”

  “Then we’ll face the consequences,” Marlin says. “Or doesn’t your loyalty extend that far?”

  “Of course it does,” Saber grumbles.

  None of the guards stop us, so I assume Gaius is managing to maintain the illusion. Nevertheless, I tell myself to be prepared to run at any stage. I don’t know how fast I can go in my current state, but the element of surprise could help me. I wiggle my right leg around a bit to see if I can feel Dad’s knife in the sheath inside my boot, but I can’t tell if
it’s there. Would Saber and Marlin have thought to check there for a weapon?

  We eventually arrive back at the first corridor. We pass the waiting room, and I see another guard sitting at the desk there. He must have come in after we left to take the first guard’s place. With the waiting room behind us, Gaius sighs in relief, and I know he’s let go of the illusion. We don’t need it anymore. Only one more gate to get through, and the guard there knows that four of us came in together. On the other side of the gate, the blackmailed guard escorts us back to our boat.

  My move is coming soon.

  Adrenaline pumps through my system, readying me for what’s to come. The stairs appear, Saber goes down first, and I’m pushed after him. I make sure to wobble more than necessary as I step into the boat. I collapse onto a pile of blankets and let my eyelids flutter half-closed. I hate the pathetic act, but it’s necessary if I don’t want them watching my every move.

  The men remove their rings. The stairs vanish, and the boat starts moving with the current. The guard watches us with folded arms and a grim expression. We’re heading toward a kind of whirlpool, which I assume will pull us down and drop us out the underside of the floating island. The boat moves faster. My breath quickens. My fingers wrap around the edge of the boat and tighten.

  We hit the whirlpool. The water draws away from us, and the boat drops down. With spray spinning around us, the underside of the island comes into view.

  And this is where my brilliant plan kicks into action.

  I leap up and launch myself out of the boat, aiming for one of the many hanging vines. I snatch hold of it as I begin to fall. It tears into my palms, burning my skin as I slip down it. The vine swings forward with my momentum, and I let go and grab hold of another one. My stinging palms scream out at me, but I will not let go. I’m only one more vine away from my target: a rope ladder. I leap again—and this is the vine that breaks.

  I fall, scrabbling at the air, my momentum carrying me just close enough to grab onto one side of the ladder. The rope burns more skin from my hands, but I hang onto it tighter than I’ve ever held onto anything. I hear an angry shout somewhere behind me, but I don’t look back. As the swinging of the rope ladder slows, I find a foothold on a lower rung and begin climbing. “Ignore the pain,” I tell myself through gritted teeth. “Ignore the pain, ignore the pain.”

  I’m climbing toward a narrow, vertical hole in the ground. Through it, I see dull, grey light. I’m almost at the base of the hole when the rope ladder jerks abruptly below me. I look down and see Saber at the bottom. A trail of swinging vines tells me he took the same route I did. “Dammit. Climb faster,” I instruct myself. “Climb faster, climb faster.”

  I reach the bottom of the hole—and it’s narrower than anything I’ve ever climbed through. Panic chokes me. Saber is below, catching up quickly, and ahead is the one thing I never want to face.

  I freeze.

  Saber will kill you! I scream at myself. MOVE! I take a great gulp of air and continue climbing. The earthy walls of the vertical tunnel are so close to me, I can almost feel the sand brushing against my back. I shrink away from it, a scream building in my throat. I climb faster. “Keep going, keep going, keep going,” I chant through my sobs. I can see the clouds above me, and I can feel the tunnel pressing closer, feel the phantom grasp of Saber’s hand around my ankle, and I climb and climb and climb—and then I’m through! I dig my fingers into the grass, pull myself out of the hole, and climb onto shaking legs. The prison rises up on my left, a dark, imposing fortress of stone. On my right, a wall encircles the edge of the floating island.

  I run.

  I don’t know where I’m going or how this is supposed to help me get home, but I know I can’t let Saber catch me. I leap over a stream of water that flows out from the base of the prison. Sparks shoot over my shoulder, and I duck to the side in fright. I stumble as I avoid a hole like the one I climbed up, but manage to steady myself before I fall. Another spark shoots past me. It morphs into a leafy vine and snakes back toward me. It wraps around my ankle and tugs me to the ground.

  With no chance to land properly, I feel the left side of my body slamming into the ground. I cry out in pain, but there’s no time to wait for it to subside. I slide my hand into my right boot and feel for the sheath—and Dad’s knife is there! I pull it out, slash at the vine, and roll away from it. I push myself up and see Saber jumping across the stream.

  I turn and run. I run and run and run, and I’m so tired, but I have to keep going. I can see the end of this side of the prison, and I know I’ll turn the corner soon. Maybe there’ll be somewhere I can hide. Some place I can duck into before Saber sees where I’ve gone. Another hole, or a ladder, or stairs. Something.

  I turn the corner—and see a solid stone wall ahead of me. Dammit! I keep running, but I veer to the right. The wall encircling the edge of the island is lower than the one ahead of me, and the crumbling stones would provide footholds here and there. If I can get onto that wall, then I can walk along it and—

  A laugh behind me tells me it’s too late. I swing around, holding up my knife. It’s the only protection I’ve got. I’m not even wearing my protective vest under my clothing. Right now, the one time I really need that vest, it’s sitting inside my training bag at the Guild. But it’s useless to think of it now when all I have to rely on is the knife. You can do this, I tell myself as I tighten my shaking grip on the carved handle. You don’t need guardian weapons. You don’t need magic. You can do this.

  “One knife,” Saber says, “and nothing else.” He laughs again. “This should be easy.”

  We’ll see about that.

  I swap the knife to my left hand. I lower myself to a crouch, grab a flat stone with sharp, broken edges, and throw it at him the way I would a throwing star. It catches the edge of his shoulder as he jerks away. I reach for a small, round one and hurl it at his head. It strikes the left side of his brow, leaving a gash. With a cry of anger, he flings magic at me. His sparks shoot through the air and form flames by the time they’ve reached me. I dive out of the way, fall into a shoulder roll, and let the momentum carry me back onto my feet.

  Then, since I can’t run away from him, I hurtle straight toward him. I see him tense and bend his knees slightly, getting ready to flip me over his shoulder. Not gonna happen. At the last second, I force all my energy into a jump, bring both knees up to my chest as I sail toward him, and kick as hard as I can. He hits the ground, and I land on the other side of him. He groans and coughs and climbs to his feet, but I’m ready with a side kick that sends him stumbling backward. I advance on him, slashing with my knife when he tries to jump at me.

  With a grunt of anger, he pushes hard at the air between us. A pulse of magic slams into me, sending me flying backward through the air. All breath is knocked from my lungs as I hit the ground. Struggling to suck in air, I push myself up onto shaky legs. My spurt of adrenaline-infused energy is fading fast.

  “Come on, I can do this all day,” Saber calls, taunting me.

  I can’t, and he knows that. But I have a knife. A knife I know exactly how to throw thanks to the hours of torturous practice Olive put me through yesterday. Even my dreams were filled with knife-throwing last night.

  Another spark shoots toward me, and I duck down to avoid it. “Do you want to keep dancing for a while longer?” Saber shouts. “Or shall we end this now?”

  Let’s end this now. I pinch the knife handle between my thumb and forefinger. I raise my hand, then bring it down fast. The knife spins—and hits its target. Deep in Saber’s chest, right where his heart is. He lets out a gasp of shock. He clutches at his chest, then falls onto his knees. He wraps his hand around the knife and tugs it from his body before slumping onto the ground.

  He isn’t dead. I know that much. Stab wounds don’t kill faeries unless they’re so bad the body’s magic can’t heal them before the magic runs out. If I leave Saber, he’ll recover. What I should probably do—what Olive would tell me to do—is run
over there and finish the job while he’s down. A few well-aimed stabs to the head. That would certainly kill him.

  The thought makes me sick.

  I don’t ever want to end another life again.

  All I want is to get away from here, and now that Saber’s down, I can do just that. I turn and run back the way I came as fast as my exhausted limbs will carry me. My magic-free body is fading fast, but I’m not ready to give up yet. I need to find a way back into this prison so I can get help. The guards will help me, won’t they? I’m not a criminal. Even if they decide to lock me up while they contact the Guild, at least I’ll be far from Saber. Unless he recovers quickly and comes into the prison looking for me.

  “Hey!”

  The shout comes from behind me. I spin around. Saber is running toward me with difficulty, as if every step is a great effort. He slows to a halt. He raises my knife. And he throws it at me.

  A cry escapes my lips as the knife pierces my abdomen. I stumble backward a step or two. I look down in horror, barely able to believe that this weapon—my weapon—is protruding from my body. I watch a dark wetness seep into my clothing around the knife hilt.

  I am going to die.

  I raise my eyes and see Saber lurching toward me. He lifts his hand. Fiery sparks shoot from his fingers, and this time I have no hope of dodging them. They strike my chest, just below my right shoulder, and knock me backward onto the ground. My head hits something hard, and the sharp throbbing pain mixes with the searing ache from my chest until everything is just pain and dizziness and nausea.

  A shadow passes over me, blocking out the spinning grey sky for a moment. But then Saber steps into my line of vision and I realize the shadow must have been him. He looks down at me. “You should have finished me off when you had the chance,” he says. Then he bends and picks me up. He walks toward the wall—

  “No,” I whisper.

  —and he throws me over.

  I let out a wordless cry as I fall. The air sizzles and flashes around me as I pass through a layer of something invisible. I tumble and spin, grasping at the air as if I could catch onto it. Clawing, snatching, clutching—and then I see a spark leaving my fingertips.