A Faerie's Curse (Creepy Hollow #6)

by Rachel Morgan

  I remind myself to remain concealed as I pay careful attention to my surroundings. The slim, elegant trees, and those bushes of luminous purple flowers and blue leaves. I’ll think of that when we need to return here on Thursday. I return my attention to the river as a white boat with a seahorse’s head rising from the bow slips silently toward the bank. It must have magically appeared while I wasn’t watching, and since no one is inside, I assume magic is what steers it. It stops moving when it reaches the bank and bobs gently in the water. I watch Olive carefully and make sure to climb inside the boat at the same time she does. She chooses one of the parallel benches, and I pick the bench furthest away from her.

  As the rocking of the boat subsides, it begins to glide away from the bank. With her usual expression of boredom, Olive examines messages on her amber. I, however, keep my eyes peeled, taking note of the overhanging branches, the lush vegetation on both banks, the pattern of stars sprinkled above us. I need to remember everything, just in case.

  Before long, the boat comes to a stop against the other bank. I move at the same time Olive moves, being careful not to make any noise on the bank as I step onto it. My boots form indentations in the grass. I could extend my illusion to hide the footprints as well, but Olive’s attention is pointed the other way. I follow her gaze and see a closed carriage pulled by four white pegasi.

  “Hey,” she says to the guard who steps out of the carriage. They exchange greetings in a familiar way that suggests they know each other. They both climb into the carriage as I consider how best to follow them. The carriage door shuts.

  Shoot. Well, sitting inside the carriage with them for a journey that could last hours probably wouldn’t have been a good idea anyway. I hurry over to the carriage and hoist myself onto the back. I probably shouldn’t try to cling here the entire way, so that leaves … the top? If I were brave enough, I’d consider sitting on one of the pegasi, but I don’t want to upset any of them, and I don’t want to have to remain invisible for the rest of the journey. I’m already feeling the ache of weariness at the edge of my mind.

  Keeping as quiet as possible, I climb onto the top of the carriage. As it rolls forward with a jerk, I remove my belt and quickly lengthen it. I tie one end of the belt to the decorative wooden carvings on the left side of the carriage top, loop it around my waist, then tie the other end to the right side. I lie down on my stomach and direct a stream of magic toward one end of the belt to tighten it further. Then, as the rumbling beneath the wheels vanishes and the carriage begins to tilt backward, I hang on for dear life and try to convince myself that this isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever had.

  CHAPTER

  SIXTEEN

  I’m flying. The wind tears at my wig and the trees shrink as we speed across the sky toward the stars. Good thing my phobia has nothing to do with heights. As my eyes water and air is dashed away before I can even attempt to breathe it, I raise my hands and fashion a shield in front of my face. An invisible layer starting at the edge of the carriage roof in front of me, rising up over my head, and ending at the back of my neck. It’s flexible, moving as I move, so I push myself up onto my elbows and take a good look below me. I memorize every landmark I can make out. A winding river; a hill over there and another one on this side; a lake flowing into a smaller lake, which flows into an even smaller lake, all three surfaces as smooth as glass.

  As the moon climbs higher and time passes, I become aware of a slow pounding at my temples. I’m too tired to hold myself up now, so I lower my head onto my crossed arms as I stare ahead. My headache worsens. I assume it’s because of the curse and the fact that I projected more illusions today than I normally would, even if most of them were brief. A tight knot of fear takes form inside me, but I try not to focus on it. Now that I’ve solved the Seelie Court location problem, there’s little else left to do before Thursday. I can rest all of tomorrow if I need to. And even if I can’t regain any strength—you’ll grow weaker and weaker, the witch said—I won’t get any worse as long as I don’t project anything. At least, I hope that’s how it works.

  The journey goes on and on. Hours pass, though I’m not sure how many. I’m tired and achy and cold when finally the carriage begins descending. I blink and look around for the palace. It must be somewhere below, but I see nothing. A glamour, probably, preventing it from being seen. As the carriage wheels hit the ground, I release my shield. A spark of magic from each hand severs both ends of my belt. I sit up slowly, leaving the belt tied around my waist, but shortening the ends so they’re—

  What the—

  I gasp as the carriage roof vanishes from beneath me. I force a projection out instantly as I crash onto the carriage floor between the two seats. The guard, who was laughing a moment before, tenses and frowns at the floor.

  “What was that?” Olive asks, leaning forward and squinting at the spot where I’m lying.

  Shoot, shoot, shoot. Aware that I’m making a noise, I scramble backwards on hands and heels until I hit the carriage door. I push myself up and jump. The guard leaps to his feet with magic crackling at his fingertips, but I’m already out of the carriage. My feet hit the ground and I stumble forward, managing to remain both upright and invisible.

  “Stop!” the guard yells, and the pegasi come to an immediate halt.

  I swing around to face him and freeze. Dammit, dammit! I can’t get caught now. Not when we’re so close to fixing this mess with Chase. I don’t run because I know the guard will hear me. Despite the pounding in my head, I focus intently on making him see nothing except air. Stillness surrounds us as we stand beneath the stars on a tree-lined avenue. The only movement comes from the blossoms that float occasionally to the ground. Hands raised in front of him, the guard moves slowly in my general direction. Olive stands, and as a last resort, I imagine a cracking sound coming from the carriage floor. She startles and looks down. “How old is this thing?” she asks.

  The guard lowers his arms and looks over his shoulder. “You think it was the carriage making that noise?”

  Olive jumps up and down, and I close my eyes so I can properly imagine the sound of creaking, groaning wood. “Sounds like it. You should probably have this thing replaced at some point.”

  “Probably. I guess we won’t be using this one on Thursday night. Wouldn’t want guests falling out of the sky, would we.” The guard swings himself back into the carriage—I add another cracking sound as he lands—and snaps his fingers. “Fortunately,” he adds as the pegasi begin trotting forward, “we have plenty more.”

  I don’t release my illusion. I don’t move. I barely even breathe as I watch them driving toward an archway with a sheet of water running down it. Olive raises a small dark shape above her head and shakes it. Something sparkles in the air before floating downward and disappearing. Moments later, the carriage and its two occupants drive beneath the archway, the water parting like a curtain to let them through.

  I breathe more easily once they’ve disappeared, but despite my growing exhaustion and the throbbing ache in my head, I don’t let go of my illusion. I’m standing in a driveway that leads directly to the Seelie Palace, so I won’t fool myself into thinking there are no guards in these trees. There are probably dozens of them, hiding just out of sight. No way am I revealing myself to them.

  Knowing how close I am to Chase, it’s almost impossible to turn away from the palace. Only the knowledge that I wouldn’t be able to get him out on my own makes me walk away. I move as carefully and quietly as I can, pushing my cold hands into the pockets of Lumethon’s jacket to warm my fingers. At the touch of something warm and furry in the left pocket, I jerk my hand away in fright. But it’s only Filigree, of course. He was so still the entire way here that I completely forgot about him. As I remove him from my pocket, he shifts into something larger. An ermine? I hug him to my chest as I continue walking away from the palace, my eyelids drooping and my legs feeling as though my boots have been filled with sand.

  When I’m far enough away from the
avenue of trees, I stop shuffling forward and allow myself to sit. I try to open a doorway to the faerie paths, but, as I suspected, the paths are inaccessible here. If it were possible to open a doorway, there would be no need for that long journey through the air. I lower my stylus and look out across my starlit surroundings. How long will I have to travel before reaching a place where the paths are accessible? All the way back to that river? Probably. The thought makes me want to cry, but I don’t have to because fortunately I have something better to travel on than my feet.

  “Filigree? What’s the largest winged creature you can shift into?”

  * * *

  I stagger through the faerie door in the early hours of the morning and take a seat on the floor of the mountain’s entrance hall. Did I really use my Griffin Ability that much during the past day? If I’m this weak after a few hours of simply concealing myself, how weak will I be after hours of complex illusions? I push the thought aside, too scared to consider it properly. I remain on the floor for a while, waiting to feel a little stronger before attempting the stairs, but my strength never seems to return and my head continues to ache. Eventually, when I feel I can manage it, I walk on shaky legs up the stairs, clutching the banister the whole way up.

  I expect Gaius to be fast asleep, but I hear raised voices coming from the direction of his study as I reach the top of the stairs. He’s either up exceptionally early or he hasn’t been to bed yet.

  “… everything about the layout of that dungeon, but we don’t even know if he’s there anymore.”

  “What else can we do, Elizabeth?” Gaius replies, sounding unusually frustrated. “We cannot contact him. We simply have to go ahead with the plan.”

  I arrive in the doorway in time to see her throw her hands up. “Right, this elaborate plan that relies on us getting to a place that none of us has ever—”

  “I know how to get there,” I announce, propping myself up against the door frame.

  Gaius pauses with his hands halfway through tugging his hair. “You—you do?”

  “I do. My former mentor has been in contact with the Seelie Queen for reasons I don’t know. She was summoned there yesterday afternoon, so I followed her. The palace is inaccessible from the faerie paths for miles in every direction, so we had to travel out in the open to get there. It’s … a long journey. I probably didn’t need to go all the way to the end because …” I blink and force myself to remain upright. “Because, um, I think we just need to get ourselves to the beginning—to the river—and boats will appear. And after the river, there will be carriages with guards and pegasi to take us the rest of the way. But I … I know what most of the journey looks like, just in case.”

  “That’s brilliant,” Gaius says with a wide grin. “That’s wonderful. You see, my dear Elizabeth? All is not lost. Now, Calla, you look like you could do with some sleep. Why don’t you go and rest for a few hours, and I’ll organize a final meeting for this evening. We need to make sure we have everything planned down to the most minute detail.”

  “Mm hmm. Night.” I push myself away from the doorframe. I manage to make it to my bedroom without having to lean against the wall. I shut my door and shuffle toward the bed.

  Without warning, the door opens. I turn—which takes far more effort than it should—and find Elizabeth in the doorway. “What’s wrong with you?” she demands.

  “What? I’m just … just tired.” I reach for the bed post as my legs finally give way beneath me. I sag against the edge of the bed.

  “Just tired?” she repeats as she shuts the door. “Gaius may be completely oblivious, but I’m not. Tell me the truth.”

  “Go … away,” I mutter as I let go of the bedpost and drape the upper half of my body over the bed. It feels like far too much effort to get my legs up as well.

  “Tell me,” Elizabeth commands. “Are you sick? Is it something else? You’re the one who has to get us in and out of the Seelie Palace, so if something’s wrong with you, we need to know.”

  With a great effort, I manage to heave the rest of my body onto the bed. I crawl toward the pillows and collapse against them. Being horizontal, which my body has been craving for hours now, gives me the energy to open my eyes and focus on Elizabeth. Standing at the end of my bed with her arms crossed, she looks anything but concerned for my health. Which is what makes me decide to tell her the truth. “How … how do you break a witch’s curse?”

  She frowns, then comes around to the side of the bed and sits. “A witch cursed you?”

  I nod. “The same witch who’s been working with Amon and Angelica. The one you helped me contact. She knows of my Griffin Ability and wants it for herself. This curse … apparently I will weaken every time I use my ability. My core magic will slowly be depleted until there isn’t enough left to keep me alive. When I die, the only magic left will be my Griffin Ability, and it will flow from my body into the witch’s.”

  Elizabeth’s frown deepens. “Well. That could potentially put a wrench in our plans to rescue Chase.”

  “Exactly. So how do I get rid of this curse?”

  “Either the witch must lift it, or …” She hesitates, then sighs. “Or the witch must be killed.”

  “As if I need another reason to want to kill this woman,” I mutter.

  “Why haven’t you told anyone about this?”

  “You know why. Our plan hinges on me being able to create a strong enough illusion to get us in and out of the Seelie Palace without being caught. If Gaius knows about the curse and that it could weaken me to the point of … well, death … then he might want to come up with a different plan, and we don’t have time for that.”

  “And you don’t think I might want to come up with a different plan now that I know the current one might kill you?”

  “No. I know you care about Chase far more than you care about me. You know this is the only way to get him back, so you’re not about to change all our plans.”

  “True. But I know Chase might never forgive me if I let you die in the process of rescuing him. He’d never forgive himself either.”

  “He’d get over it eventually,” I tell her. The thought hurts, but hopefully it’s true.

  “And what if you die in the middle of the mission? That will ruin everything.”

  I ignore her callous words and say, “I’m not going to die in the middle of the mission. I’m weak, but I’m not at death’s doorstep—yet. So I just have to make sure I don’t use my Griffin Ability at all between now and tomorrow night, and I should be strong enough to get through the whole event.”

  “Should be?”

  “Will be. I will be strong enough.”

  Elizabeth shakes her head and sighs through her nose. She stands. “Give me ten minutes.”

  I fall asleep while she’s gone, so I don’t know how much time has passed when she returns with a collection of ingredients, a bowl, a flask, and an old book. “I can’t lift the curse, but I know enough about witch magic to be able to alleviate the effects for a limited time.” She places everything on the table. At my questioning look, she adds, “I couldn’t very well mix up a tonic right there in Gaius’s laboratory if you don’t want anyone knowing what it’s for. It may be the middle of the night, but he’s still puttering around doing who knows what.” She reaches for the book, which looks like it may be the same one she used when contacting the witches. Faded foreign lettering runs down the battered spine, reminding me of the large leather-bound book that was on display in the witches’ Underground store.

  “Is that a witch’s spell book?” I ask.

  “Yes.” Elizabeth opens the book and scans through the contents, keeping her back to me.

  “What kind of spells are in it?”

  “A lot of elemental-based magic. A few witch classics—summoning and changeling magic—plus some darker spells. Chimaera creation, energy rituals, ancient curses. That sort of thing.”

  “How did you get it?”

  Her piercing gaze lands on me as she looks over h
er shoulder. “Do you want me to answer questions all night or make this tonic?”

  “Sorry,” I murmur. My eyelids slide shut. I think I fall asleep again because the next thing I’m aware of is Elizabeth sitting on the edge of my bed with a spoon, a bottle of brownish liquid, and a glass of what appears to be water. She sets everything on the bedside table as I push myself into a sitting position. “Dilute a spoon of this in a glass of water whenever you’ve used your ability and are feeling depleted,” she tells me, following her own instructions and adding a spoonful of brown liquid to the glass. “It will replenish some of your strength.”

  I take the glass from her and sip the contents, preparing myself for a horrible taste. It isn’t that bad, though: sweet with a herbal scent. I gulp down the rest of the drink and, to my surprise, start to feel better within seconds. I stare at the empty glass in my hands. “I assume this won’t work indefinitely.”

  “No. I don’t know how long it will keep the curse’s effects at bay. Days, weeks, I’m not sure. Just keep using it until it stops working.”

  Not the best plan, but I suppose I can’t ask for much more at this point. “Thanks, Elizabeth.”

  “You’re welcome.” Then, as my eyes slide shut, she adds, “Now don’t you dare screw up tomorrow night’s mission.”

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  I wake up some time in the afternoon feeling almost normal, which is a great relief. I know I’m only postponing the inevitable effects of the curse, but I don’t care at this point. I simply need to make it through tomorrow night without collapsing. If I survive, I’ll worry about getting rid of the curse afterwards—hopefully by getting rid of that witch at the same time.