by K. J. Sutton
Without warning, her eyes snapped open and stared into mine. They were black as a starless sky. I would’ve reared back and screamed, but I had no control over my body.
“Wake up,” she whispered. Then, as I watched, her face began to rot.
This time I was able to scream. I was still screaming when I lurched upright in bed.
It took a few seconds to realize that my surroundings had changed again. The tomb was gone, replaced by Cyrus’s house. I wasn’t standing next to a stone slab, but sitting on a mattress. My eyes darted around, prepared to see more horrors hiding in the shadows. That’s when I spotted a paycheck stub resting on the nightstand and realized I could read the words.
This was reality, which meant the cave and the rotting woman hadn’t been. Just a dream. It was just a dream. It made sense I was having nightmares now—Oliver was gone, and without him standing guard, everything from the past had emerged, like monsters out of a dark closet.
As my mind struggled to adapt, I finally realized there was another person in the room. I gasped and pressed my spine into the corner. Laurie sat in a chair near the door, his legs elegantly crossed, his tapered fingers holding a book upright. His gaze met mine, and I realized that he must’ve carried me to bed—I’d fallen asleep in the couch, with one of the journals on my chest.
Laurie waited for me to say something, holding the edge of a page between his fingers. His expression was fathomless. I stared at him again, but this time, my mind was elsewhere. I thought about the dream. I saw the sign I hadn’t been able to read. I heard that woman’s voice slithering over my skin.
In a rush of certainty, I met Laurie’s gaze.
“I know where Creiddylad is,” I said.
Chapter Seventeen
We sat at the kitchen table while we waited.
It was that time of morning no one liked to be awake, unless they were an insomniac or ninety years old. Or a kitten, because mine—still unnamed—had been darting around the room like a pingpong ball. Beyond the window over the sink, there was no hint of sunrise. Only deep, endless dark. Summer’s soothing song of crickets and cicadas had been replaced by the austere silence of winter. Collith’s absence still felt like a soundless scream.
Every time I heard it, I reminded myself that it was going to be all right… because it would. I had a plan.
The idea had come to me as I told Laurie about my dream. I’d described the tomb, the magic I’d felt, Creiddylad’s body on that stone slab. And then, as if I had been weaving a string with every scene I talked about, I finished and saw the pattern. It was so simple.
Now Laurie, Finn, and I sat in a small kitchen and waited for Lyari to arrive. I’d tried summoning her without results. I knew she would come as soon as she read my text, but that could be hours. I was on the verge of suggesting we reconvene in the morning when Laurie raised his gaze and looked at Finn.
“You know, I’ve always been curious about something,” he said. “When it comes to doggy style—”
A figure appeared in the doorway, and each of us turned to see who it was. “Lyari, thank God,” I blurted, rising from my seat.
She assessed the room in a single glance. She was in full armor, of course, always ready for a fight or a challenge. “What is this?”
I sank back down and took a breath. It mattered to me, what Lyari thought, and that was more unnerving than what I was about to say. “I think I know a way to save my life and get rid of Gwyn for good. Without spilling a single drop of blood,” I added.
Her eyes widened. “No. Anything you do will just aggravate her, Your Majesty.”
“If we don’t do anything, I’m dead,” I reminded her. “Please sit down and hear me out.”
But the beautiful faerie took a step back. Her nostrils were flared and the scent of her fear bloomed in the air. Lilacs, I thought. “I will not play a part in this. You already know how to survive,” she snarled.
I could feel Laurie and Finn looking at me now. Finn didn’t pry, of course, but Laurie had no such qualms. “What does she mean?” he asked.
My jaw worked. Thanks, Lyari. She just stared back at me, unrepentant. I looked across the table at Laurie, and his eyes were bright with curiosity. I resisted the urge to groan. If I avoided the question now, he would pester or manipulate me until I wanted to scream. “Lyari thinks that if I channel the power of the Unseelie Court, I may have enough to kill Gwyn… as a Nightmare,” I told him. “She already knows that isn’t an option, though.”
“Part of the spell upon Gwyn translates to ‘no weapon of man can harm her’. It says nothing about the power of the Fallen,” Lyari put in. “Our kind has always been too afraid of her to try.”
There was a pause. I steeled myself for the question I knew was coming—it was inevitable. Why isn’t Lyari’s idea an option? But Laurie didn’t ask me why. He leaned back in his chair and refocused on Lyari. “It’s an intriguing theory,” was all he said.
Finn, looking weary from his recent shift, kicked an empty chair toward her. Lyari didn’t move. The werewolf’s eyes changed color, and in response, Lyari casually rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. The air seemed to thicken.
“I know the truth about Ariel,” I growled at her. “Which means I know you kept it secret from me. If you sit down and listen, I’ll consider us even.”
Her chin rose. “I was following the orders of my king.”
“You swore fealty to me, too,” I said. My voice emerged softer than I intended, and something in Lyari’s eyes flickered when she heard it. The faerie sat down, but she made sure we knew how unhappy she was about it—her spine was stiff and her eyes spat dark fire.
“We’ve already ruled out killing Gwyn. But are there any legends or lore that say she can’t be caught?” I asked. Silence met my words. Laurie’s expression became speculative. I leaned forward, feeling more confident now. “Here’s the plan. I tell Gwyn the spell can be undone with the blood of the Unseelie Queen—that’s how we’ll guarantee our presence at the tomb. While it’s being opened, Gwyn will be distracted. Using the same spell that trapped her lover, I think we could seal her inside. Forever.”
“When do we want to do this?” Laurie asked.
That’s when I knew he was going to help me. “Tomorrow night,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I want Collith out of her clutches as soon as possible.”
“Your plan has one flaw,” Lyari muttered. We all looked at her. “There isn’t a single witch alive who will risk pissing off Gwyn. Not to mention one who’s powerful enough to work such an enormous spell.”
I entertained the idea of asking the Tongue to do it, but even now, I didn’t fully trust him. What if he went to the council after I revealed our plan?
Who else did I know that was capable of working complex spells? In a flash of memory, I saw that arrogant, blue-haired faerie from the revel twisting into a tree. My mind drifted down the hall, toward my room, and into the nightstand drawer where a small slip of paper lay tucked in shadow. I don’t like bullies. “I might know one, actually,” I said slowly.
“Do you know how to contact her?” Lyari asked. Apparently she’d thought of Mercy, too. I nodded. The faerie sighed and leaned forward, her perfect mouth tight with resignation. “If we’re really going to do this, then we need to cover our tracks.”
“I’ve already considered that, actually,” Laurie said, startling me. Lyari gestured for him to continue, as if they were equals instead of a king and a guard.
Laurie elaborated on his idea, and for a few minutes, I watched my friends work together to perfect the plan that would save my life and free Collith. If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I’d be calling these people my friends, and that they would show me more friendship and devotion in one month than I had experienced in one lifetime, I would’ve laughed in their face.
I focused on Laurie again, knowing that every word was vital and I couldn’t miss a single detail. This would work, I told myself when the fear crept in, hoping no one at the tab
le could see it on my face.
It had to.
Laurie and I used the doorway at the Unseelie Court.
He hid us from view as we entered, walked partway down the tunnel, then turned around again. We didn’t hesitate or attempt conversation. The tension in my veins felt like a drug, a ride that I wasn’t capable of stopping. I was jittery with worry. As we passed through the opening a second time, exiting the Court now, I closed my eyes and pictured that vibrant wood. It wasn’t difficult—my dream was all I’d been able to think about.
Last night, after an internet search, we’d learned the Hallerbos was in Belgium. It was called The Blue Forest because of the bluebells that appeared every spring, just as they had in my dream. Millions of them, spreading over the forest floor like carpet.
But when I opened my eyes, reality was nothing like the place I’d seen or the pictures we found online.
The cold had driven away every flower and color, leaving Hallerbos ordinary and tired-looking. It was also dark. This was how it should’ve appeared in my nightmare, I thought. Nothing about this forest felt like a fairy tale.
“How do we know we’re in the right place?” I asked, instinctively keeping my voice low. We started walking, but I had no idea which direction would take us to the cave I’d seen. Would Gwyn already be waiting there? Had the text I sent this morning given her sufficient time to cross an ocean? She hadn’t responded, so I had no way of knowing if she’d even gotten it.
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw Laurie shrug. “If we don’t, I suppose we’ll wander around for a while and eventually be hunted down by a very pissed off Gwyn,” he said, sounding entirely unconcerned. “She knows she can’t enter the tomb without you, correct?”
“If she got my text, then yes.”
The Seelie King walked ahead of me, making our dark hike look effortless, despite the illogical clothing he’d chosen for tonight. He wore knee-high boots, pants so tight they left little to the imagination, and a long coat trimmed in fur. An ornate sword dangled at his narrow hip and rings gleamed on his fingers. His angelic hair had that freshly-washed bounce to it. He looked more prepared to strut down a runway than ensnare an ancient faerie.
“Do I meet with my queen’s approval?” Laurie asked with a knowing glint in his eye. He’d paused and looked back at me.
“Your presentation is fine, but we’ll have to put a bag over that personality,” I said as I brushed past him. My cheeks felt hot.
The farther we ventured, the more hostile the night seemed. The moonlight was stark and harsh, every sound muffled and wary. Plumes of air left my mouth with every exhale. Thankfully, the steep terrain held most of my focus—Nightmares healed more quickly than humans, but we could still die from a broken neck. In the meantime, Laurie had fallen silent. It was so uncharacteristic of the Seelie King that I almost wished he would resort to his usual teasing and taunting.
It felt strange, walking through night-darkened woods without Finn or Lyari. My werewolf had remained at the house—in the extremely possible event that the spell didn’t go as planned, and Gwyn did go after my family in retaliation, he’d be there to defend them until his dying breath. He hadn’t been entirely happy about it, but he didn’t argue when I made my request.
“Protect them, Finn. They’re our pack,” I’d said to him. Those were the magic words, and my werewolf’s eyes darkened with resignation.
Lyari and Ariel were elsewhere—that part was Laurie’s idea. They’d make sure to be spotted in the Unseelie Court while Ariel wore a gown and cloak from my wardrobe, the hood drawn over her dark hair. She was shorter than me, but heels easily fixed that. Rumors would circulate, as they always did, for every spy and council member to hear. No one would interfere with our plan tonight, and I wouldn’t be dethroned for eternally imprisoning Gwyn. In the Court’s eyes, it would probably be equivalent to killing her. If anyone ever found her, that was.
My thoughts cut short when something moved nearby. I nearly shrieked, only to see that it was just an owl. It flapped away into the night sky. Behind me, I heard Laurie snicker. “Shut up,” I mumbled, hunching my shoulders.
We continued on through the unfamiliar forest, and with every step my anxiety increased. Where is Mercy? I didn’t voice the question aloud, for fear of someone overhearing, but my gaze darted toward every movement. A branch swaying in the wind, a dead leaf flitting over the snow.
Without a witch, the entire plan fell apart.
Last night, she’d responded to my text within minutes. When and where? was all she said. As if the thought of pissing off an ancient, all-powerful faerie didn’t daunt her in the least.
When I’d told her the cave was in Belgium, an entire ocean away, she still didn’t hesitate. Apparently witches had more tricks up their sleeves than I ever realized.
I’ll find you, she said. These are the ingredients I will need for a sealing spell of that magnitude. Make sure to arrive shortly before the Witching Hour.
Most of the ingredients had been painless to obtain. Mint, sage, and ginger, for instance. Others had been more challenging and required a drive to Denver, like the mercury and the moss. All of it was in a backpack resting against my spine. I tried to comfort myself with the reminder that it wasn’t time yet. But there was a reason a Nightmare’s power was so potent—fear had a way of sneaking in. Creeping past any defenses. I walked through the dark and found myself worrying again. If our witch didn’t show, Gwyn would collect her lover and continue to terrorize the world, which included killing me at some point. Probably sooner rather than later.
Finally succumbing to the agitation racing through my veins, I took my phone out. The screen brightened. No texts or missed calls. It was 2:52 a.m.
“I think we’ve arrived,” Laurie murmured. I raised my gaze and immediately saw the torches, two burnt lights shining weakly through the sleeping trees. I could feel Laurie looking at me—no doubt he could hear my traitorous heart, accelerating at the thought of seeing Collith—and I hurried forward. But with every step closer to the cave, my throat crowded with fear. What if Mercy had gone to the cave instead of finding us? What if Gwyn found her? There were so many ways this plan could go wrong.
Just as I was about to step through the trees, Laurie caught hold of my hand. I stopped and looked back at him, heart in my throat. “What is it? Do you hear something?”
“When this is all over, remember that it was me. It was me who saved you, and not him,” the faerie said quietly, firelight moving on his cheek.
There was something in his eyes I couldn’t name. Not obsession or desperation, like so many under a Nightmare’s influence. It almost looked like… pain. But I was too impatient to ask what Laurie meant. I shot him a bewildered frown and turned around, rushing into the open.
Gwyn and Collith stood between the torches.
The sight of him stole the breath from my lungs. At a single glance, he looked whole and unharmed, but a glance was all I had time for—completely ignoring Gwyn, I broke into a run and flung my arms around Collith’s neck. He responded instantly, holding me against his hard chest. He ran a hand over my hair, as if attempting to soothe me, and it made the thunder inside me rumble louder. Even though he’d been gone for days, he still smelled like himself.
“What are you doing here?” Collith growled. I pulled back and saw his eyes glinting with that new cruelty he’d brought back from Hell. He was looking at something behind me, and I didn’t need to turn my head to know what. I took the opportunity to scan Collith’s body more critically, searching for signs of torture, but he truly did seem uninjured. Slightly reassured, I peeled my attention away from him and looked back at Laurie.
The Seelie King stood there, grinning, and had his hands shoved in his pockets. He rocked on his heels and remarked, “Well, anything involving Fortuna is bound to be entertaining.”
I gave him a look to show that I was unimpressed. Really? You’re not going to tell Collith that you’ve been helping me?
Laur
ie opened his mouth to say something else—probably a witty comment that would infuriate everyone and only add to the tension in the air—but Collith beat him to it. “Laurelis shouldn’t be here when the door is opened, huntress,” he told Gwyn, his voice full of warning. “He’s a liar and a thief who would con his own mother.”
She chuckled. “Are those supposed to be flaws?”
“Actually, those are his virtues,” Collith countered, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
Gwyn threw back her head and laughed. I flinched at the sound, wary of alerting other creatures to our presence. After a moment, I realized that Gwyn didn’t care whether something heard her, even out here. She couldn’t be killed and she didn’t care about anyone besides Creiddylad, who had been safely tucked inside a tomb for the past century or two. How freeing it must be to be utterly invincible. To have no weaknesses.
Envy curled around my heart like a vine.
We had to stall for time. If we opened the tomb now, and Gwyn took Creiddylad, there was nothing stopping her from walking out and disappearing into the night forever. Or until she decided to come back and kill me. I glanced at Laurie, hoping he would understand the message I conveyed with my eyes.
The Seelie King refocused on Collith and raised his silver brows. “Truth be told, I’m not entirely certain I want to free you from dear Gwyn’s clutches. Fortuna and I spent the night together and I’d like to repeat the experience.”
I glared at him now. That definitely wasn’t the distraction I’d been hoping for.
Collith reacted just as Laurie knew he would—his lips curled into a snarl. As swiftly as it had come, the mirth in Gwyn’s countenance vanished. She put her arm across Collith’s chest, preventing him from surging forward. “While I find you both entertaining, I’ve never cared for dick measuring contests. They’re tiresome. I’ll tell you right now, it doesn’t matter whether yours is an inch longer if you don’t know how to properly use it. As the humans say, shall we get this party started?”
