by Sam Cheever
I spotted Lea hunkered down in the center aisle of the bookshelves. She was covered in a shimmery aura of magic, and there was a pile of arrows on the floor around her and sticking from the wooden shelves and books. Her cat Hex, Wicked’s littermate, was perched on top of the bookshelf nearest Lea, slashing at cherubs like her brother.
The air behind me sighed and I threw up my hand, catching Blackbeard’s sword as it barreled toward me. The hilt of the magical sword softened and warmed beneath my palm, fitting itself to my hand as the magic it carried worked its way through my system.
Three cherubs with hate-filled eyes descended from the ceiling and they were on me, almost too fast for me to respond. But the sword knew its work. It rose to meet the attack, my body settling into a familiar fighting stance. The blade flashed─slash, slash, slash─quicker than the eye could follow.
Three cherubs burst into dust and I spun to meet three more.
The room was cloudy with the leavings of spent energy and cherub dust. It clogged my nose and stung my eyes. But I barely noticed. I was lost in the dance of the blade.
Slash, slice, lunge, sweep, sweep, sweep. Two arrows clanged against the blade and dropped to the carpet.
A ragged form barreled into the room, dropping red and green feathers on my head and along the floor as he burst clumsily into the battle.
“Argh! Rough seas and demon’d skies. The diapered curs have swords that fly.” SB flapped his wings and squawked as arrows flashed in his direction. Quick as a wink, he shot forward and stabbed the nearest cherub with his beak, snagging another one out of the air as the first one turned to dust. He swung the screaming cherub in his steely claws and flung it onto my blade.
Poof! Dust filtered to the ground.
SB fluffed his feathers and danced proudly on the air. “Bwawk! Ye bilge-sucking dog of a wicked mum, whose pride for ye be small, ye’ll succumb to Blackbeard’s mighty bird, ’fore yer mum’s tears of shame can fall.”
Energy flared and burst all around me. The floor was littered with dust, my shoes kicking it up all around me as I fought.
Finally, the bookstore was free of cherubs. We collapsed into exhausted, boneless piles on the dust-covered carpet, panting.
Lea dropped her shield and staggered toward me. “I thought you’d never get here.”
“Sorry. We ran into some trouble.” How was that for an understatement?
“Did you get the serum?” Lea asked, her expression grim.
Sebille lifted the chain with the vial off her neck, handing it to Lea.
Lea frowned. “Is this all of it?”
“No,” I admitted. “But hopefully it will be enough?”
Lea sighed. “Yeah, hopefully. Come on.” She motioned toward the dividing door. “We need to call Whom right away. Hobs is in really bad shape.”
22
It’s Bad, Naida
Sebille and I sat on the couch, perched on the edge in tense silence as we watched Doctor Whom bending over Hobs on my bed. The sprite had healed all my weird rose-growing cuts. We’d sent Lea downstairs with Florence Nightingale’s first aid kit to help the rest of our group with their battle wounds.
Narina and Eddie had poked their heads into the apartment several minutes later, and I’d gone out to tell them what was going on.
Narina had hugged me. In my exhausted, emotional state, the action brought tears to my eyes. She’d tucked a strand of my dusty hair behind one ear and told me they’d be in touch.
Eddie hugged me too. “I’ll see you soon, sis.”
“Thanks for your help today,” I told them, wiping at tears. If I wasn’t so scared and miserable about Hobs, I’d have been grinning like an idiot to have my family back.
I watched them leave and went back inside, dropping back down on the couch again. There was nothing left to do but wait and watch.
I chewed the inside of my lips at the sight of my hobgoblin. He was so pale that even the light blue of his eyes looked dark by contrast.
Mr. Wicked and Slimy were on the pillow next to Hobs. Slimy’s dark eyes were fixed on the little hobgoblin, his throat rhythmically working. There’s a dirty red aura over him, the frog said. It’s bad, Naida.
Sebille and I shared a look. Her lips were pinched, and the freckles on her face stood out against the chalky pallor of her skin.
Wicked’s gaze was fixed on Whom. He watched the doctor as if he didn’t completely trust him with his friend.
Hobs’ skinny chest barely rose and fell under the sheets. He shuddered violently every few seconds. He was literally dying from a broken heart. And I hadn’t even known he was in love.
I frowned, wanting to kick myself for neglecting the little guy. I should have paid more attention. I should have known he was in trouble before it got so far.
Sebille glowered at me as if hearing my thoughts. “This happened fast, Naida. We were busy with the signing. It’s not our fault.”
“Our” fault, she’d said. As if she was wading along the same treacherous thought process as I was. I supposed she probably was. Sebille and I were like co-parents for Hobs. We were responsible for him. We’d somehow failed.
But she was wrong. We should have known. Hobs was more important than some stupid book signing.
Whom had taken the vial of serum from Sebille when he arrived and had disappeared to do his thing. He’d only just emerged from his little travel house with a new gob of owl puke in his hand, which he’d proclaimed was the antidote to the love serum. He’d pressed the mess onto Hob’s chalky chest, right over his heart. While he waited for it to work, Whom had used the stethoscope nestled in the feathers of his cloak to check Hobs’ vitals. He’d then pinched a tiny yellow bead in front of Hobs’ nose. The bead had burst, sending a flare of golden energy into the little guy’s nostrils. Then he’d pulled a second bead from another pocket. The second bead had been bigger, colored a pale cream, and he’d pinched it into Hobs’ mouth.
Finally, Whom had pinched two pink beads into Hobs’ oversized ears. He’d glanced at us. “Healing supplements.”
We nodded.
Then the good doctor sat back on his haunches, looking for all the world as if he was perching on a tree branch, and jotted notes into a journal while we waited for the medicine to work.
The minutes ticked past. I shifted nervously on the couch. Sebille got up and paced. But the minutes didn’t bring Hobs back to us. In fact, he seemed to get worse. The hobgoblin’s color changed from chalky white to gray, and a film seemed to cover his fixed, pale blue gaze.
He looked as if he were already dead.
My heart slowed and my breathing turned shallow as I clung desperately to hope. Even as despair tried to rip all hope away.
“Doctor Whom?”
The owlish physician looked over at me, blinking his oversized eyes.
I opened my mouth to ask him what else we could try.
Something crashed heavily to the floor downstairs. The distinctive sound of shattering glass followed the crash.
Doctor Whom’s beakish mouth opened. “Whooo?”
Sebille and I jumped to our feet and ran to the landing outside my apartment door. Confused by what I was seeing, I looked down at the communicating mirror we’d used to travel back from the black castle in The Enchanted Forest.
A woman stood at the bottom of the steps, her back to us as she perused the shattered mirror. She was dressed in a red cape, a hood covering her hair and much of her face. Only her delicate nose and a slash of one pale cheek showed, telling me it wasn’t a man.
I grabbed Sebille’s wrist, squeezing as I leaned in and whispered. “You never told me what happened to Dacara.”
Sebille frowned. “She was in a state of suspended animation on a bed of thorny roses.” She shook her head. “Even Dacara couldn’t have gotten out of that without help.”
I winced, narrowing my gaze on the woman below. “Would she have woken up when we banished Desiree?”
The first signs of panic slashed through Sebill
e’s gaze. That was all the answer I needed.
As if she heard our urgent whispering, the woman down below turned her beautiful face up to us, a pleased smile curving her lush lips.
It wasn’t Dacara.
“It was very helpful of you to leave the portal open and your mirror unveiled,” she told us. “It’s such a shame I broke it.” She shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t need a portal to return home.” She tugged her cape closer to her side and I realized the voluminous cloak had been hiding something on the ground.
My eyes went wide.
A delicate creature lay on the ground behind her. She was dressed in a brown tunic and cream-colored tights, with brown shoes on her tiny feet. A pretty crown of flowers rested in her shiny brown hair and a plain, brown leather tool belt encircled her waist, the handles of a variety of household tools sticking up from the pockets. Twin arcs of thick mahogany lashes lay on her pink cheeks and her lips were slightly open as if something had startled her before she’d fallen.
A memory of a playful, dancing gaze and gleeful laughter assailed me. I realized I was looking at my intruder from downstairs.
Suddenly all the unexplained repairs made sense.
“She is lovely, isn’t she?” Desiree said in a cold voice. “It’s no wonder your little hobgoblin is dying from a broken heart over her.” The demon’s smile widened, showing perfect white teeth. “It’ll be a shame when she’s gone. He’ll be beyond saving then.”
“What are you talking about, demon?” Sebille barked out. Her bony frame was rigid with anger. But that wasn’t all. I knew the sprite well enough to recognize stark terror when I saw it. Terror for Hobs. “He’s already sick. Why would this brownie’s fate affect him at all?”
Desiree looked smug. She patted the place on her chest where the tiny vial had been. “It’s really too bad about that serum you stole from me. The poison is called Obsession.” She gave a short laugh. “It works very well. So well, in fact that I carry that antidote with me when I’m working with it.” She shook her head.
All the color fled from my face and I had to grab the railing to keep from falling.
Her smile widened. “What? You thought you were creating an antidote? What you did was create an antidote for the antidote.” Her laughter trilled through the room, cold and malevolent. “Such a shame. You might have saved him. Now, the poor thing doesn’t have a chance. I’m afraid he’ll die of a broken heart without the object of his love.” She glanced down at the sleeping brownie. Despite her words, her expression was filled with delight at the prospect of Hobs’ despair and death.
Sebille growled, wild energy spitting around her and her eyes glowing feral green.
I grabbed her wrist to keep her from attacking. Desiree could be gone in a blip and we’d have no way to save Hobs. “What do you want?” I asked the demon princess, my tone throbbing with anger.
She widened her eyes. “Want? Why, what everyone wants, my dear Keeper. Love.”
Her features pinching into an evil glower, she reached down and slid a deceptively delicate arm around the brownie’s waist, pulling her off the floor. “I would have taken the serum. But since you’ve proven yourself unfit to the task of finding it, you have until Midnight to bring me the shifter’s child. If you fail, the brownie and the hobgoblin will both die.”
“Yowl, hsssss!” Wicked flew past me, claws extended.
Desiree smiled wickedly and popped away, brownie and all.
My cat landed in the empty spot where she’d been, every hair on his body sticking straight up and his tail whipping the air. He hissed again, clawing the air as if he thought he could still reach her. “She’s gone, buddy. But hold that thought in case she comes back.”
Wicked ran back up the stairs ahead and dove back through the apartment door. I followed, my footsteps heavy. If Desiree had been telling us the truth, I’d as good as killed Hobs myself. Tears burned my eyes. “I thought it was love serum,” I mumbled, my heart breaking.
Sebille didn’t speak. She was stiff with rage. But she reached out and touched my arm. “We’ll fix this, Naida.”
I nodded because I had to believe it was true. Unfortunately, I was terrified it wasn’t.
Whom stood in the doorway blinking slowly. “Whooo?” he asked.
I sniffed, scrubbing my wet face with my sleeve. “A very evil princess.” My gaze lifted to his. “Is she right? Is Hobs going to die?”
The doctor’s beakish face pinched until it looked even more pointed. “I’m afraid she was. Your little friend is in real danger of dying.” He returned to the bed and peered down at Hobs, a ripple running through the feathery cloak.
“How do we stop it?” Sebille asked, moving to stand protectively over the little hobgoblin.
“We need an antidote,” Whom said as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
A thought occurred and I grabbed his arm. “We gave you the serum. Can’t you use what’s left of that?”
He shrugged narrow, sloped shoulders, making the cloak he wore shift like ruffling feathers. “I performed the ritual to create an antidote for love serum, believing that was what you gave me. Unfortunately, the contents of the vial have been compromised by that ritual.” He frowned, dense feathery brows lowering over his enormous eyes. “Obsession is a highly invasive poison. The sooner you get a sample of the poison to me, the sooner I can make the antidote, and the better it will be for him.”
We all looked down at the pale, shuddering creature that used to be my fun-loving hobgoblin. Tears burned my eyes. “What are his chances, doc?” I hadn’t meant to ask the question because I really didn’t want the answer. But it spilled out before I could stop it.
Whom sighed. “If you can get me the serum within a few hours, he’ll have a sixty percent chance of surviving.”
My heart tightened painfully. Only sixty percent. I swallowed a lump in my throat, struck mute and immobile with guilt and grief.
“What are we looking for?” Sebille asked Whom.
“Obsession is a byproduct of love. But unlike true love, it’s a twisted strand, providing more harm than good. You must look to where love begins and follow the strands as they twist into something ugly.” He shook his head. “I wish I could be more specific. But this poison is of the demonic realm.” He sniffed. “I don’t care for demons.”
Join the club, I thought.
Sebille grabbed my arm, giving me a tug. “Come on. We need to move.”
I fought her grip, not willing to leave Hobs alone.
Whom caught my gaze, his huge eyes warm with compassion. “I’ll stay with him, child.” He reached down and tugged a feather from his cloak, handing it to me. “Dip the quill into the substance when you find it and release the feather. It will make its way back to me.”
I took the feather, scraping tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. “Thanks.”
He inclined his head and sat in a chair, where he proceeded to close his owlish eyes and fall immediately into sleep.
Sebille tugged my arm again. I let her lead me from the apartment, closing the door softly behind us.
“I have no idea where to start,” I told the sprite, my voice filled with hopelessness.
“That’s easy,” she told me, jogging down the stairs.
I plodded after her, too depressed to jog.
By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, she’d already called up a book on Obsession. The magical aura had barely faded when she opened it.
Amazing myself, I was disappointed when Osvald’s head didn’t rise from the pages.
The sprite flipped quickly through the pages, frowning as she skimmed the chapter heads looking for something that would help.
She stopped, her finger running over a picture on the page. “Loveland,” she muttered, frowning.
The name startled me out of my funk. “What?”
Sebille showed me the picture. “This says Obsession grows on a small island where life still thrives in the famed cupid ci
ty. It’s called Loveland.”
I grabbed the book, recognizing the broken lines of the city that Lovelace had taken me to. “I’ve been here!” But it hadn’t been an island and nothing was thriving there. What if we were too late?
Sebille grabbed it back. “When?”
“Lovelace took me there when he kidnapped me.”
“We need to go there,” Sebille said, eyeing the picture as if it would give her a clue how to get to it. Her head snapped up. “Call Lovelace.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” I argued.
“Think, Naida!” her gruff command told me how worried she was about Hobs, better than any of her other words or actions had. Sebille usually took refuge in action when faced with a challenge. I tended to sink into self-pity and despair for a bit before clawing my way out and determining to fight.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know. He didn’t give me any way to get in touch.”
Sebille’s expression was beyond angry. I spun away, heading into the bookstore. I couldn’t do anything about her being mad. It was how she coped. But I had an idea. I found my phone and quickly dialed Grym. He answered on the fourth ring, when I was about to hang up. “Naida? I’m kind of busy.”
“You’re still fighting cherubs?”
“Dealing with the aftermath. What do you need?”
“Hobs is dying.”
Silence met my statement, and I thought I heard a muttered curse on the other end. He sighed. “What can I do?”
“I need to reach Lovelace. We need to go to the cupid city to find the poison so Doctor Whom can make an antidote.”
“Okay.”
“Have you, by any chance, captured any of the cherubs that you can question? Or did they all poof away?”
“Hold on a sec,” he said. “Sampson! Is that one still alive?”
I couldn’t hear the response, but Grym came back online a minute later. “We have one. What do you want me to do with it?”
Sebille showed up with the book of pages, handing it to me. “Where are you,” I asked him, taking the book.
“Enchanted General Hospital. Neonatal wing. Why?”
