by Natalie Grey
But no matter how many times I walked myself through that logic, I didn’t actually want to do it.
How long I stood there, frozen, I wasn’t sure. But then he shifted and turned onto his side and the moonlight caught on the pulse at his throat.
The rock dropped out of my hands to land with a soft thunk on the moss. This was too much. I couldn’t do it. I caught my breath, desperate not to make a sound, willing him not to wake up and see me next to the murder weapon.
Pick it back up, and kill him, I told myself.
But I couldn’t do it. I backed away, heart in my throat, and then I turned and ran.
4
I tried to run lightly while I was close to the clearing, but panic kicked into high gear soon enough and I was in a flat out sprint. I had told myself to be patient, to pick my time, but the truth was that someone had kidnapped me and was trying to bring me to a prison I would likely never escape—and I was terrified. I couldn’t have stopped running for anything.
The flickers at the corners of my vision only spurred me on, and it wasn’t long before everything was flickering madly. The trees appeared and disappeared, the ground turned from leaves to cobblestones and back, and I heard the honking of cars.
I made for what looked like a sidewalk, and stumbled out onto it a few moments later. I half ran, turning as I went. Clean, pale buildings with gorgeous balconies and terracotta roofs rose up on either side of me, and tiny cars were parked along the sides of the cobblestone street. Haštalská, a nearby sign read.
I didn’t have the first idea where I was, but it wasn’t the forest, and that was a good start. I took a moment to catch my breath, then shook myself and kept running.
I dodged around couples in bright summer clothes, some pushing strollers, and old women wearing scarves over their white hair. What was I looking for? Where was I going?
Anywhere I could hide. We’d deal with the rest later.
A breath of air caught me with the rustle of trees, and my heart leapt into my throat. He knew I was gone, and he was following me.
Why the hell hadn’t I killed him when I had the chance? I practically shoved a man in a business suit out of my way and he yelled something after me in a language I didn’t understand. I considered yelling Watch out for hawks over my shoulder, but couldn’t spare the breath.
I jagged left onto another street and stopped sharply when trees flickered into being. Back the way I had come, and out onto the sidewalk again. I was running as fast as I could, desperate to stay ahead of him. I had no idea how fast I was, but Daiman was practically all muscle. He wasn’t going to be slow. I needed to give this everything I had.
I hopped a railing and heard more angry yells, and had the sudden thought that at least if someone called the police, there would be witnesses to Daiman trying to abduct me. That made me wonder if I should ask people to call the police.
Something in me gave an emphatic no to that suggestion, and all I had to go on was instinct, so I decided to trust it.
“Nicky.” His voice was in my ear and I gave a little scream, looking over my shoulder for his shape at my side. My heart was pounding as much from sheer terror as from running. He was going to catch me, and he was going to take me to that place, and I was never going to get out. I scanned the street as I pushed myself to go faster. He was nowhere, but I could hear him. “It’s not safe here. The ley lines will kill you. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Ley lines? I frowned and slowed for a beat, then charged ahead again, shaking my head. I wasn’t going to let him lie to me. I wasn’t going to be taken in. Of course he was going to seem nice, like he was worried for my safety. A slave who was dead wasn’t much use to him.
My feet ached and slid in the boots, and it felt like my head was going to explode. I didn’t know how long I was going to be able to keep going like this, but I told myself that the only thing that mattered was this moment, and then the next, and the next after that. I just had to keep going for now.
I wished Sarah was here, and felt tears come to my eyes. Sarah hadn’t been able to protect me, but it would be nice not to be alone.
I couldn’t fall into the trap of feeling sorry for myself. I pushed my way through increasingly heavy crowds, half-sobbing for people to get out of my way. There was the pounding of heavy music nearby—some sort of festival, maybe. A few women tried to grab at my shirt, asking a question that I understood no matter the language: who’s chasing you? Did he hurt you?
But if I stopped, who knew who else he might kill? He wouldn’t want witnesses, and I didn’t think I could live with another person trying to save me. Some part of me whispered that he wasn’t like that, he wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer, but what if I’d misjudged him? He hadn’t let me go, after all.
“Nicky, please come back. Please listen to me. You’re running into danger.”
“Maybe,” I muttered back. I didn’t know if he could hear me, but I said it out loud just in case. “But I’m also running away from it.”
“I am not going to hurt you!” There was the shriek of a hawk above, chilling me to the bone, and I saw him circling in the sky above.
“Get away from me!” I yelled. I didn’t care how stupid I looked, screaming at a bird. “I don’t want to go with you, get away from me!”
The trees were appearing again and I turned to plow into the crowd once more. The music was getting so loud that it might well be deafening, and I could see the lights from the stage now. People were jumping and swaying ahead of me, and I surrendered myself to the crush gratefully. Too many people for Daiman to brainwash, too many for him to kill.
I was carried along by the crowd, almost too tired even to keep my feet under me. I allowed myself to be jostled along and tried to catch my breath. My silky shirt clung to me with sweat and more than a couple of times, I had to slap people’s hands away from my body. I might have bigger problems right now, but that didn’t mean I’d let the rest slide. It turned out, from the way men recoiled, that I had a pretty mean death glare.
I was learning more about myself all the time. I was almost amused by that…
Until a hand closed around my wrist. My head jerked around and he was there, brown eyes and a sheen of sweat on his skin. The crowd pushed us towards one another and I crashed up against his chest, staring up at him in pure hatred.
He tried to wrap an arm around me, yelling something that was lost in the beat of the music.
Like hell I was planning to listen, anyway. I shoved him as hard as I could, yanking my hand out of his grip. I felt his hands slide over my sweat-slick skin as I turned and ran again.
This time, I didn’t bother slapping guys’ hands away—I threw up my elbows and knocked them down. All that existed was the few feet ahead of me, and Daiman behind me. I wasn’t going to let anyone get in my way or slow me down.
I didn’t waste my time looking back. He was following me, and I knew it. All there was, was to run.
Waves of light from the stage washed over me with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. The music was loud enough to make me wish I’d been born without ears, but even without it, I’d never have been able to pick out the sounds of Daiman’s pursuit amongst so many people. The crowd threw me off my feet more than once and helpful hands picked me up.
I couldn’t spare the breath for thank yous. I ran until I emerged into open air with a gasp of relief. I felt sick, suddenly, but I told myself that must be from exertion, or maybe it was from the crowd. It was hard to breathe in the crush and the heat of so many bodies, and for a moment I was running with fresh air in my lungs and burst of energy in my legs.
Just a moment, though, before Daiman slammed me sideways into an alleyway.
5
We came down hard on the pavement, his hand wrapped around my head to cushion it, him twisting so that he fell beneath me, but that only gave me a stab of pure fury. He just didn’t want to bruise the merchandise. Was he going to get a reward for bringing me back?
I pushed
myself up and ran, yanking myself free when he reached out to grab my leg. The sick feeling was getting stronger, and I considered turning around and puking all over him, but decided against it. Running was probably a better call than a few moments of amusement.
He was better at this than I was, though. When blue-white lines sprang into existence in front of me, waving in the air and leading to a knot of brilliant light, I turned with a snarl on my lips.
“I. Am. Not. Going. With. You.” I got each word out between gritted teeth.
If he was going to trap me here, I was going to throw up on him.
“Nicky.” His hands were up, palms out, and he looked genuinely terrified. “Nicky, please, don’t touch those lines.”
“I—” I broke off and looked round at them. That fear was real. And if he was afraid of them…. “Aren’t these yours?”
“Those are the ley lines!” His breath was heaving into his lungs. His shirt had ripped and his arm was bleeding where we’d come down on the pavement together. “They’ll kill you. Sorcerers can’t see them, but druids can.” He hesitated. “You shouldn’t feel very well, though.”
I froze, eyes narrowing. I couldn’t tell if he was bluffing. Was any of this real, or was he messing with me? Were the ley lines why I wanted to throw up? I realized now that it really did seem like I’d kept getting sicker, the closer I got to them.
It didn’t matter, I realized. Whatever the case, I’d foolishly run into the alley and now I didn’t have a good way out. My hand clenched into a fist and I tried to steel myself to do what I had to. I took a step back, towards the lines. Nausea threatened to overwhelm me, but this was literally the only thing I had.
“Let me go,” I said quietly, “or I’ll do it.”
“No!” The word was ripped out of him. He went to take a step forward, I leaned, and he froze. He closed his eyes briefly, let out his breath, and took a step back, instead. “Please,” he said quietly. “Please. I am not lying to you. I am not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you.”
He almost seemed to mean it, and I frowned in confusion … until my brain caught up with me. The truth wasn’t in those melting brown eyes, I told myself, it was in what Sarah had said. He was leading me into a prison. He would make me a slave.
I looked away from his earnest face for a moment to remind myself of the truth. “If no one wants to hurt me, then I should be able to walk away from all of this, huh?” I looked back and locked my gaze on his. He’s a liar, he’s a liar, he’s a liar. I repeated the mantra in my head. “Right? If this isn’t a prison, if no one wants me hurt, I should be free, shouldn’t I?”
He looked down at the ground and my shoulders slumped.
“Can you promise that they’ll let me go free? After my training?” I was really grasping at straws here. I didn’t want to be locked up, but I didn’t exactly want to die, either. Right now, I’d give anything for a third option.
He looked up at me. “You won’t want to,” he said quietly. His face changed as he realized what he’d said and he shook his head emphatically. “I didn’t mean it that way, I didn’t mean they’d brainwash you! I just mean, once you know the truth, you wouldn’t want…. Please, the ley lines will kill you.” He stepped back again to beckon me out. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised me. “I won’t touch you, I won’t do any spells. You’re safe.”
Every moment I spent with him, I found myself wanting to believe the words he spoke. But he would lead me right to the place Sarah had so feared. He kept saying he wouldn’t hurt me, but he never said he wouldn’t bring me to the Acadamh. I looked away and tried not to let my eyes tear up as his voice trailed off. Why the hell was I disappointed? I’d always known what he was. He was my captor.
And I couldn’t be locked up. The thought made my heart constrict with panic. I couldn’t be locked up.
“You see why I can’t go with you,” I said quietly. “You have to understand, don’t you? All you can give me is half-promises. And I can’t live my whole life as a prisoner, Daiman.”
“You won’t be,” he said passionately. “However you grew up, we need you, Nicky. We need all the help we can get. Our world is at war.”
But even as he looked up and his voice broke off in horror, I stepped back into the knot of power. I doubled over and had to drag myself back up. It wasn’t nausea anymore, it was pain, dancing through my bones.
I looked at him out of the dancing white light. “Sarah knew something,” I told him. I felt exhaustion dragging at me as I walked backwards slowly, and the pain still ricocheting through my body. “She knew something about what your people were going to do to me. Maybe you don’t, but she did, and I’m not just going to let them do it. I’m not going to be their pawn.”
We stared at one another in silence, and then he tilted his head to the side, frowning in consternation.
I sighed. “What? What is it?” This wasn’t exactly the nice, dramatic moment I’d anticipated. I had intended to have the last word with that speech, but nothing seemed to be happening, and, fair or not, I was going to blame the awkwardness of this particular moment on Daiman.
“How do you feel?” he asked me slowly.
“Tired. My legs are shaky. I have a headache. I’ve just been chased through a city by a shape-shifting kidnapper and now I’m about to die. Otherwise great.” When he said nothing more, I snapped, “Why?”
“Um, because … well, not to put too fine a point on it, but you should definitely be mostly dead by now.” He reached out to touch one of the ley lines and yanked his hand back. “They’re real,” he said, almost to himself. “So why….” His face cleared a moment later. “Oh.”
I gestured impatiently for him to give an explanation.
“Your magic is blocked. Probably in a way that the ley lines can’t feed on it as easily. That’s what they do. Well, no one really knows what they do—how they work. They seem to radiate magic, but they also take it in if there’s a strong source nearby … like a magic user. And yet, somehow you’re fine.”
“Oh. Well, then.” I folded my arms over my chest in satisfaction. “I guess I’ve found somewhere safe from you, after all.”
Unfortunately, my body chose that exact moment to betray me. I stumbled and sprawled onto the ground, too tired even to properly enunciate my very unladylike response to the sudden pain. I was cold, and I was having trouble breathing, and I realized all of a sudden that the shaking in my legs wasn’t just from running. The pain seemed to be increasing.
“Nicky? Nicky!” His voice sounded like it was underwater.
I tried to pick my head up and couldn’t. “What?” I croaked out.
“You have to get out of there. It’s not feeding on you as fast, but it’s still feeding on you. Can you walk? Can you crawl?” His voice was panicked.
“I don’t want … to be … a slave.” I tried to push myself up to stand. I didn’t want to die sprawled on the ground of an alleyway. It sounded undignified.
“You won’t be a slave. I’m taking you to learn magic so you can fight against people who want humans to be slaves, people who want humans to die out so they can just have the whole world to live in. You have to be trained, Nicky, but that’s not a death sentence, it’s not brainwashing.” His voice was desperate. “Please, can you believe me just long enough to get out of there?”
And I wanted to. Heaven knew I wanted to. Right about now I was realizing that maybe I didn’t want to die after all. But I could only slump to my knees and onto the ground. I couldn’t get up. I met his eyes through the haze of white. I was sucking down air desperately but it didn’t seem to be helping. Spots were dancing in my vision. I tried to hold out my hand to him, but my other arm wasn’t strong enough to hold me up and I fell, hard.
I heard an oath, a word I didn’t know but spoken with equal parts conviction and prayer, and then there was an agonized yell. A hand closed around mine and yanked me up and forward, and Daiman and I stumbled out into the open and sprawled onto the grimy pavement
of the alley.
Warmth. I surrendered to it with relief and felt my brain start to work again. I was resting my head on something soft.
Something moving. Daiman.
“Daiman?” My voice sounded like something out of a horror movie. His breathing continued, but shallowly, and when there was no response, I picked my head up in a sudden rush of fear. “Are you—”
He managed to pick his head up slightly to look at me. His face had gone grey and he was shaking with the effort of looking at me. Around us, trees flickered and appeared. I could still see the city between them, but I had the sense that we were now invisible to anyone there.
“Please don’t kill me in my sleep,” he managed.
And then he passed out.
6
We slept for hours. I woke up periodically with just enough energy to check that he was still alive, realize that I should probably take this opportunity to run, and try to stand up. That was where my energy inevitably failed me. Sometime around dawn, I made it about halfway to the entrance of the alleyway by crawling, and then decided that I didn’t have it in me to crawl my way out of a major city and fell back asleep. I rationalized it with the fact that he’d promised he wouldn’t hurt me—and since I hadn’t killed him in his sleep, I figured we might be able to make some sort of new bargain when he woke up.
Anyway, I was exhausted.
I woke sometime later to find Daiman standing over me with a pastry bag and two takeout cups of coffee.
I couldn’t help it, I started laughing hysterically. “Hi,” I managed.
“Hello.” He sounded bemused by my reaction.
I didn’t even try to explain. Daiman Bradach, shape-shifting druid with a dagger in his boot, holding pastries and coffee. It was just too much a collision of worlds. And with his shirt torn open at the shoulder, he looked almost like a romance novel hero. I definitely wasn’t going to tell him that part. I pushed myself up and took the cup of coffee and slice of honey cake he offered, and ate in silence—minus the occasional giggle.
