creepy hollow 02 - faerie prince

by Rachel Morgan

  “Because that wasn’t the point! The point is that my life is being threatened. My family members are being threatened.”

  “By fictional characters,” David mutters.

  Mr. Hart ignores his son’s comment and collapses into an armchair in the corner. “All these years of throwing the best parties,” he says wistfully. “The magnificent food and drinks, the out-of-this-world entertainment.” He shakes his head. “It’s finally come back to bite me in the ass.”

  “What are you talking about?” David starts to look concerned as his father leans forward and rests his head in his hands.

  “Shortly after we moved here, a faerie showed up in this very room one night and explained that the house was actually his. He claimed to have many homes, some in the fae realm and some here. He didn’t want any of his own kind knowing this house belonged to him—he liked to hide things here, he said—so he allowed us to continue living here as a cover-up. Then he showed me the underground part of our home.”

  “The underground part?” David looks even more confused now.

  “He forbade me from telling anyone about it, of course. But I need your help, and it seems this is the only way you’ll believe me.” He stands up, walks behind his desk, and removes a bottle of whiskey from a low drawer. He carries the bottle to the potted plant in the corner behind the door, unscrewing the top as he goes.

  “Okay, I think you’re taking this too far now, Dad.”

  “I took this too far the day I agreed to continue living here.” And with that, Mr. Hart turns the bottle upside down and pours it over the plant. Instead of liquid, a black dust comes pouring out. The plant shimmers for a moment, then disintegrates into multi-colored wisps of cloud before disappearing. In its place is a perfectly round hole in the wooden floor. Steps lead downward.

  “Oh. Holy. Cow,” whispers David.

  “Indeed.” Mr. Hart locks his office door before heading down the stairs. “I’ll assume you’re following me, David.”

  Ryn waits for David to follow his father, then widens the opening out of the faerie paths. “We need to be careful,” he says. “It would be better if they don’t know we’re following them.”

  “Yeah, I got it, come on.” I slip my heels off and carry them in one hand as I lead the way down the stairs. I reach a passageway with white walls and a wooden floor, just like the rest of the house. Soft light filters down from small round circles in the ceiling. The end of the passage isn’t too far ahead, and Mr. Hart’s voice carries easily back to us.

  “I suppose I’ve always known I was nothing more than a toy to him. He made our parties spectacular with his enchanted food, drinks and entertainment. But it was all for his own enjoyment, I’m sure. He was just playing with us like dolls in a doll house.”

  I get to the end of the passage and peek around the corner. Ryn puts his hand on my arm, as if to hold me back. Right, like I’d really be stupid enough to go marching in there. I stretch my neck a little further and see a room with a lounge suite in the middle and shelves with hundreds of objects lining the walls. Different colored stones, a chipped jug, a kettle with red smoke wafting from its spout—this room is a treasure trove of . . . stuff.

  “Is this he the same one who threatened your life?” David is walking slowly around the room, examining various objects, while is father sits on one of the couches.

  “Yes. I told you what he gave me, didn’t I?” David nods and pokes curiously at a plant with wiggling gel-like leaves. “He was in a rush that night. He forced the box into my hands and told me to bring it down here immediately. He’d stolen it from someone, and this someone was after him. He said that if I told anyone about it he would make me watch the torturous death of every member of my family. And then he’d kill me.”

  David looks up. “But you told me about it.”

  “Because I’m desperate.” Mr. Hart rises from the couch. “I need your help getting away from here. I don’t want to be part of this anymore.”

  “And you think I can help you?”

  “I know you have friends who can help your mother and me . . . disappear.”

  David stares at his father, his expression revealing nothing. “You think I have friends like that?”

  “I know you do. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about the fake driver’s license.”

  David looks down, then around the room once more. “So where is this precious box that’s caused you so much stress?”

  Mr. Hart walks over to the chipped jug I noticed and picks it up. He turns it upside down and out tumbles a small black box. “That’s the only way to get anything out of this jug,” he tells David. “If you put your hand inside, the jug just bites you and forces your hand back out.”

  “Bites you?”

  “Yes. I found that out the painful way.”

  With eyes full of wonder—and a little fear—David takes the box. He opens it carefully and pulls something out. A silver chain with a pendant. I can’t see much except that it’s small and simple. David holds it up in front of his face where it swings slowly back and forth. “What’s so important about this piece of jewelry that an entire family could die if anyone found out about it?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just the keeper of these items. I have no idea what they do unless I find out for myself, and I lost my curiosity after I almost lost my hand.”

  Ryn tugs me back around the corner and whispers, “We just need to get that necklace and we can leave, assignment complete.”

  “I know. I’ll see if I can get it.” I open a doorway on the wall, then hesitate, biting my lip.

  “What’s wrong?” Ryn asks. “You want me to do it?”

  “No, it’s just . . . if we take the necklace and that Unseelie Faerie returns before the Harts manage to leave, he’ll kill them all.”

  Ryn nods slowly. “Probably. But protecting Mr. Hart and his family isn’t part of our assignment.”

  “I know. But isn’t that the point of who we are? We’re supposed to protect people, Ryn, not put them in even more danger.”

  He closes his eyes with a sigh. “Dammit. I know you’re right. I just really wanted to finish this assignment now.”

  “Yeah, so did I.” I really, really want to finish it. We’d be back at the Guild three days early, a feat that could earn us loads of bonus points. But how could I live with myself if my actions caused a whole lot of innocent people to die? “Okay, I’ll go get the necklace, and you think about how we’re going to help Mr. Hart and his wife safely disappear.”

  I walk into the paths and focus all my attention on the couch Mr. Hart was sitting on earlier. I catch the doorway the moment it begins opening, keeping it the size of a coin. I look out and see nothing but dark fabric right in front of me. It moves slightly as I hear David’s voice close by. Great, so David must be sitting on the couch now, blocking my view of everything. I close the tiny hole and imagine myself next to the arm of the couch instead—and that’s pretty much where I seem to be when I look out a second time. I can see over the rounded edge of the couch’s arm, over David’s knee, and straight toward a low rectangular table. Sitting on the table is the box.

  I remove my amber and stylus from the strap around my thigh and quickly write a message to Ryn. Create a distraction so they both look away from the table. I return the amber and stylus and wait. Several moments later, I notice a blue spark hit the pot holding the wiggling-leaf plant. The pot explodes, sending soil in all directions. Mr. Hart and David jump to their feet immediately. I widen the opening, reach over the edge of the couch, and grab the box. I open it and slip the necklace out, then replace the box and just about fall backward into the safety of the paths.

  I create another opening near one of the walls and peek out. Mr. Hart is examining the remains of the plant, while David stands nearby, circling on the spot as he examines the room with his eyes. “Why did that happen?” he asks. “Does it mean someone’s here?”

  “I don’t think so. But we should leave anyway. Now that
I’ve proved to you I’m not insane, I think it’s time you helped me disappear. I just need to find—”

  “No one’s leaving until I know exactly what’s going on here,” a new voice says. Cold, lazy, condescending. “And once my curiosity is satisfied, I’d be happy to make you disappear.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tall and slim and dressed entirely in black, the faerie stalks slowly across the room toward Mr. Hart. His hair is white-blonde with black streaks, and his eyes are cold black holes. Rings with multi-colored gems glitter on his fingers, and silver spikes protrude from the back of his boots.

  Oh crap, crap, crap. Who is this guy? I’m not easily scared, but there’s something about him that freaks me out. I hurriedly shrink the necklace and pop it into one of the hollow balls around my neck. Should I go back to the passage to find Ryn? Should I stay here?

  “Start explaining,” the faerie says. “Now. What is all this magical rubbish doing in a human home? Who gave it to you?”

  My amber vibrates against my thigh, and I quickly remove it. Not in passage anymore. Antique wardrobe next to shelf with glowing orb. Come here. I look out the peephole. My eyes dart to the various cupboards and wardrobes around the room until I see the antique one beside an orb. I close up the hole in front of me and concentrate hard on being inside the wardrobe. It certainly wouldn’t do to show up in front of it.

  The darkness of the faerie paths is suffocating. It seems to take forever, but eventually I notice a sliver of light in front of me and feel a hard surface beneath my feet. I can also feel a presence invading my personal space.

  “That you, V?” Ryn’s voice is right beside me.

  “Did you invite someone else into a small, dark wardrobe with you?” I whisper back.

  He chuckles quietly. “Not recently.”

  “So what can you see from here?”

  “Just about everything. The wardrobe doors don’t meet properly, so there’s a good view of the room.” I can see his outline as he puts his eye to the sliver of light. “Mr. Hart’s been stammering out some explanation I can’t really hear, and David’s looking edgy.”

  “Well, I’m ready to jump out there and fight this faerie the moment he shows any signs of hurting them.”

  “You think you can take on this guy in high-heeled shoes and a cocktail dress?”

  “My shoes are in the passage, but yes. I could.” In all honesty, I’d probably fall flat on my butt if I tried to fight in heels, but I’m not about to tell Ryn that.

  “This faerie obviously isn’t the one Mr. Hart was talking about,” Ryn murmurs, his eye still glued to the crack between the doors. “I wonder what interest he has in this situation.”

  I press my ear to the door and try to hear what’s going on. With nothing else to look at, my eyes absently trace the profile of Ryn’s face. His perfect nose, his full lips, his strong jawline. His eyes are so blue I can make out their color even in the almost darkness. And those lips. Definitely kissable.

  Okay, what? I push the startling thought aside immediately. Focus, Violet. I kneel down on the floor of the wardrobe and peer through the crack into the room.

  “Things are about to get very bad for you,” the faerie says as he circles Mr. Hart and David like a predator stalking its prey. “Do you know why? Because you silly humans have been conspiring against the Queen.”

  “W-what?” Mr. Hart stammers.

  “Which one?” I whisper.

  “That’s quite an accusation for two humans who probably have no idea of the existence of either queen,” Ryn says.

  “B-but how?” Mr. Hart asks. He’s visibly shaking now. “What have I done?”

  “You’re about to find out.”

  The wall behind Mr. Hart ripples and melts away to reveal a woman in a long, flowing gown of black and silver. The two colors shimmer like coals in a fire. Black lace covers her arms and a choker of glowing pearls encircles her neck. Tiny crystals sparkle in her hair, which is black and blonde and caught up in an elaborate twisting style on top of her head. She surveys the room with a look of disdain.

  “Holy freaking goblin babies,” Ryn whispers. “Do you know who that is?”

  My mouth is dry as I whisper, “I think I can guess.”

  There’s only one person it can be: The Unseelie Queen.

  “Savyon,” she says in a commanding voice as she sweeps out of the faerie paths. “Have you found it yet?”

  “No, but we’re in the right place,” the first faerie says. “This human has confirmed it.”

  “Human?” The Queen walks slowly toward Mr. Hart. Without warning, her hand darts forward and wraps around his neck. She squeezes. “What do you know of my necklace?” she demands.

  Mr. Hart moves his mouth, but no words come out.

  “Stop it!” David shouts. He has a gun gripped tightly in his hands—where was he hiding that?—which he’s pointing straight at the Queen.

  “A gun?” She laughs at him. “Don’t be absurd, human.” The hand that isn’t around Mr. Hart’s neck flashes out. Blood spurts suddenly and horribly from David’s chest, and he falls to the ground with a cry of agony.

  I gasp, then slap a hand over my mouth at the same time as Ryn moves to do the same thing. The queen’s head whips around, her hard black eyes pointed in our direction. We freeze. My hand covering my mouth, Ryn’s hand covering mine, his lips right beside my ear whispering, “Don’t. Move.”

  “How DARE YOU come into my home?” a new voice yells, one that I recognize instantly. If I weren’t so scared of the Queen right now, I’d probably roll my eyes in disbelief. Seriously? Why does everything these days seem to involve Zell?

  The first faerie, Savyon, turns toward the other side of the room where Zell is standing. “I don’t think it is your home, little brother, or we would’ve needed your permission to enter through the paths.”

  Little brother? So that would make Savyon a prince too. Another one of the Unseelie Queen’s sons.

  Zell’s crimson eyes glitter with fury as he strides across the room, his finger pointed at his brother. “It isn’t a faerie home, but it is still mine, and I swear I will tear you apart if you do not leave RIGHT NOW.”

  Ryn finally pulls his hand away from mine and presses it to his chest as though he’s in pain. “You okay?” I whisper.

  He nods.

  “Stop behaving like a child, Marzell,” the Queen snaps.

  “GET OUT, MOTHER!” he yells. Bright red sparks dance across his skin, and two of the small round lights in the ceiling explode.

  “You stole my eternity necklace!” the Queen shrieks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come after you?”

  Zell’s eyes move to Mr. Hart, still dangling from the Queen’s powerful grip. Zell lunges forward, throwing his hands out. Glass shards fly through the air and embed themselves in Mr. Hart’s chest. The old man gasps and gurgles, and the Queen drops him to the floor in disgust. He struggles for a while, like David did, then goes still.

  I feel sick.

  “He didn’t tell me where the necklace is,” the Queen says. She clearly hasn’t noticed the little box on the table. “But you will, Marzell. I don’t care that you are my son. You have been against me for a long time now, and I will torture you until you tell me everything you’ve been doing behind my back.”

  Ryn moves beside me and whispers, “I’m opening a doorway back to the Guild. This is more than we can handle on our own.”

  The Queen spins around once more, the skirts of her gown sweeping the floor. “Who dares to spy on us?” she shouts. I feel myself yanked forward. I crash through the wardrobe doors, fly through the air, and sprawl across the floor at the Queen’s feet. Ryn groans beside me.

  I mentally call to one of my guardian weapons—a dagger. It appears in my hand with a rush of golden sparkles, but sizzles and vanishes the moment the Queen wraps her cold fingers around my wrist.

  “A guardian?” she says in surprise as she bends over me. “Well, it will be a pleasure to kill you,
my dear.” She raises her other hand and—

  “No!” Zell shouts.

  The Queen hesitates, a cruel smile curling her lips. She looks up. “Did you say something, Marzell?”

  Zell’s eyes seem to glow with fury, and magic crackles at his fingertips. He clenches both hands into fists and slowly says, “I will return the eternity necklace if you give me the girl.”

  The Queen grabs Ryn’s wrist with her other hand—causing the glittering arrow he was about to stab her with to disappear—and hauls us both to our feet. “So the girl means something to you, does she? Well, in that case, you most certainly may not have her. I’ll lock them both up while I take care of you, my dear son.” And with that she pushes us away from her. We tumble onto the floor, black smoke swirling around us. It twists and curls, thickening by the moment until the air is as black as the faerie paths.

  “Ryn?” I call.

  “Here,” he answers. I wave my hand in the direction of his voice and manage to catch onto his arm. The smoke spins us wildly around. I feel sick and dizzy and unable to focus on anything except the hand I’m holding tightly onto, and then—wham! We hit the floor again. Except it doesn’t feel like the floor anymore. And it no longer smells like an enclosed room.

  The black smoke lifts quickly, revealing a forest lit dimly by twilight. A group of sprites dances about on a tree branch above us; they laugh as they tease the evening glow-bugs that are beginning to come out.

  “Are we in Creepy Hollow?” I ask.

  “It feels like it.”

  “Yeah, it does.” I climb to my feet, smoothing my hands down my dress. “But why would she send us back here? I thought she said something about locking us up.”

  Ryn shakes his head as he stands up. “I don’t know.”

  I look around. “Hey, isn’t that our gargan tree? The one we always used to climb?”

  “Yes.”

  I walk slowly toward it, feeling a small tug at my heart. The last time I was up there, Nate was with me. We lay in the hollow created by the arms right at the top of the ancient tree. Nate asked me out on a date. A date where he then betrayed me. It makes me sad to think about it, but not as sad as it used to. I think I’m getting over it.