Spandex, Spells and Shadows

by Melinda Chase

  “Hunter!” I screamed. I was ready to rush forward, but Lemon and my mom yanked me back, keeping both my hands tightly in theirs.

  “Don’t break the chain,” Mom whispered. She resumed chanting and made it clear with her eyes that I needed to do the same.

  Worriedly, I looked back at Hunter, whose face was red with pain and anguish. He hollered out, the sound low and keening, as he pushed himself back to a standing position.

  There was murder in his eyes, and he looked directly at me with hatred so strong it nearly stopped my heart.

  “The bond is taking over,” he barked out.

  “Drink the potion!” Marcella yelled, her voice losing its usual calm for a moment.

  I could tell that it took every ounce of Hunter’s strength to move toward the cauldron instead of toward me, but he managed to do it nonetheless. He bent down to where the tiny potion still bubbled over an impossibly hot flame, and forced himself to pick it up with his bare hands.

  “Agh!” He screamed.

  And I kept chanting. The moment his fingers touched that cauldron, I knew it was the only thing I could do now. Just keep on chanting.

  I watched, terrified, as Hunter brought the cauldron up to his lips, pausing to settle himself, before he opened his mouth and tipped the potion back all in one go.

  The sound that came as he drank was one that would haunt my eardrums for as long as I lived. It was the sound that steak makes when it hits a hot iron, only this was also accompanied by the burning smell of human flesh.

  “Oh, God,” I murmured, breaking the chant temporarily once more.

  But no one else did. Every other witch’s eyes were laser focused on Hunter, watching as he imbued the potion that would either save him, or kill him.

  Sounds of total pain rose from his throat, coating the room so heavily I was afraid I’d never be able to get away. Every time I was in this garden shed, I would hear those cries.

  Hunter hit his knees, splaying his arms out and tilting his head up toward the sky. I could see every single vein and bone in his neck.

  With one last heaving cry, he collapsed, slamming to the wooden floor with a loud thud.

  The silence that followed was the loud kind of silence, where the space seems to buzz with the absence of what was there before. The chanting ceased, the cries had ceased, and there was nothingness now.

  Slowly, we dropped our hands, one by one. Mom and I kept ours clutched together until the very end, but finally, I shook out of her grasp and stepped forward, only once, toward Hunter.

  “He’s not breathing.” It was Lemon’s voice, I knew, but I couldn’t have told a soul where she was in that room.

  All of my focus was on Hunter.

  She was right. He wasn’t breathing. He was facedown on the floor, in a strange position, with his hips still raised and his face turned sideways. He was looking away from me.

  That numb feeling was back, but it was anticipatory this time. I knew it would go away as soon as I had confirmation of what I was fairly sure had just happened.

  “Shannon, maybe you shouldn’t,” Mom murmured. But she made no move to physically stop me.

  We all needed to know. It wouldn’t have been our faults, since it was Hunter’s choice, but we’d still blame ourselves.

  Selfishly, I wasn’t even thinking of Tanya yet. All I could see was the stillness of Hunter’s chest, and all I could feel was the cold knowledge that he was dead.

  She’d follow. We’d have no way to rescue her now.

  Slowly, I circled around Hunter’s still form, thinking I was prepared for the sight I was about to see.

  I was not.

  Hunter’s gray eyes were wide open, so still they looked like a placid lake early in the morning. His mouth was slightly ajar, and I could just barely see a few tendrils of strange red smoke curling out of them, the product of his bond being burned away by the potion we’d made.

  “We did this to him,” I gasped. Before I knew it, I had fallen to my knees, reaching a hand out toward Hunter and feeling the warmth of the air around him. I couldn’t bear to touch him just yet.

  “Shannon, I’m sorry,” Marcella whispered.

  Anger flared through me and completely took over. This woman had concocted the very potion that had killed him, and she thought it was enough to say that she was sorry.

  “No!” I screeched. “You killed him! Don’t you dare apologize.”

  “Shannon! He was a grown man who made his own decision,” my mother snapped.

  I knew my anger was completely misplaced. In truth, I was angry at myself for even finding the spell in the first place. I couldn’t believe I’d been evil enough to bring it to Hunter, presenting it like it was some sort of choice when we both knew he’d say yes no matter what.

  Just as I was readying myself to get the hell out of there, unable to look into Hunter’s cold, dead eyes for another moment, the dead corpse of my almost-boyfriend sat straight up, gasping for air.

  16

  “You’re alive!”

  Truthfully, it could have been any of us that screeched. Maybe it was all of us. I had no idea, because all I could see was Hunter, sitting straight up and gasping for air like he’d just been rescued before nearly drowning.

  He was glowing softly, with this weird red halo around his entire figure that I assumed was due to the power of the phoenix feather Marcella had given him.

  I sprang forward, tackling him to the ground and wrapping his strong figure up in the tightest hug I could possibly manage.

  “Thanks to Marcella,” he gasped out, wrapping his arms around me in return. “You didn’t really think I’d leave you to fend off the Hunters by yourself now, did you?”

  “I don’t know, it was a little touch and go there for a minute,” I replied, squeezing him even tighter just to let myself know that he was really there, and really alive.

  “You’re suffocating me, Shannon,” he gasped out. “That ritual didn’t kill me, but you might.”

  “Oh, sorry!” I gasped, scrambling back and leaping off of him. “What?”

  Hunter was grinning lopsidedly at me, examining my face like it was a really intense computer code.

  “I can see you now.”

  A hot, bright blush rose to my cheeks, and I grinned and ducked my head.

  Hunter took a shaky breath in before he hauled himself to his feet, shaking his limbs out and running a hand through his dark, scruffy hair. He turned to Marcella and gave her a soft, grateful smile.

  “Thank you for saving me,” he murmured.

  “Don’t sweat it,” she shrugged. “Besides, I did it more for Shannon than for you. As far as I’m concerned, hunters can all rot in hell.”

  “Marcella!” Grams snapped.

  “Well, he’s not a hunter anymore, so you don’t have to worry about that,” I reminded her.

  “How are you feeling?” Mom asked, approaching Hunter and scanning him with an astute, motherly gaze.

  “Perfectly fine,” he lied, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, death isn’t all that terrible.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Mom replied. “But that’s fine. You’re alive, and that’s what’s most important.”

  I realized Hunter still had his arm firmly around my shoulders, but I didn’t shrug it away. Instead, I leaned into the feeling of him near me, warm and breathing and alive.

  Thank God he was alive.

  “We should get Tanya,” Hunter said then, tugging me out of the shed.

  “Don’t you need rest?” Lemon Drop asked worriedly.

  “Hunters don’t rest.” He shook his head.

  “But you’re not a hunter anymore,” I whispered.

  Hunter glanced down at me, and the expression in his gray eyes made it clear that there was no room for that sort of talk. It was an identity that had been with him longer than I’d even been alive. It would probably take a great deal of time for him to get used to the fact that now he was just a regular old human.

  “
She doesn’t have much time,” he said. He reached under the neck of his shirt and pulled out a leather necklace. At the bottom was a tiny little vial of glittering purple dust.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Pixie dust,” he replied, indicating the vial.

  “First star to the left and straight on ’til morning?”

  “That’s not the right saying,” he chuckled. “And no, pixie dust doesn’t allow you to fly. This isn’t Peter Pan. But, it will transport you wherever you want to go.”

  “Pixie dust is my favorite mode of transportation,” Marcella offered helpfully.

  Well, that explained how she seemed to appear and disappear wherever she pleased.

  “We confiscate it from the pixies we capture,” Hunter continued.

  “You can’t confiscate pixie dust without killing one of them,” Grams barked.

  Hunter fell silent, tilting his head and nodding slowly.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured. “You don’t do that anymore. We know the real you.”

  “Thanks,” he whispered, giving me a half-hearted smile. “Are you ready?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Hunter and I stepped out to a clear space in the grass, meaning to get away from the other four, but they followed.

  Hunter and I shared an amused glance before I turned around to them. “You’re not coming,”

  “What?” Mom demanded. “Of course we’re coming.”

  “You’re too old,” I pointed at Grams. “You’re too loud, Mom. Marcella, it’s too dangerous. And Lemon, this isn’t your fight.”

  I could tell that each of them wanted to protest, but I made it clear with my sternest expression that there was no arguing. I didn’t want them coming.

  And besides, rescue missions with two people were a lot easier than ones with six.

  “Fine,” they all sighed in unison.

  “You better hurry back,” Mom ordered, rushing up to give me a tight hug. “And you’d better bring her back, Hunter.”

  “I’d dream of nothing less,” Hunter promised. “Ready?”

  I turned back to him and nodded. “Always.”

  “Here goes nothing,” he replied, cocking his head to the side as he uncapped the vial and poured a tiny amount of the pixie dust onto the grass.

  There was a momentary pause, and I worried that it wouldn’t work since he’d lost his magic. But then, the earth sprang open and a gaping black hole formed right in front of us.

  “To the Council!” Hunter called out like a war cry. We jumped in, hand in hand, and were sucked down into total blackness within a second.

  The journey only lasted a few seconds, but with the amount of pressure closing in around me, it felt like hours. Some witch, somewhere, needed to come up with a better mode of traveling between dimensions, because this vacuum pressure thing was not working for me.

  Just like with the library, our travel ended abruptly, and we were dumped on a wet, hard floor. It was very unceremonious, and I had to stop myself from grumbling in annoyance.

  Who thought of traveling like this? How was it comfortable for anyone?

  “Are you okay?” Hunter murmured, helping me to my feet.

  “Bruised but fine,” I replied. “Where are we?”

  “The Council’s chambers.”

  I glanced around the space. We were in an open cavern, with high ceilings and smooth walls. In front of us was a little lake full of sparkling blue water that was too pure a color to be from earth. And behind us was a wide, dark opening that probably led to a tunnel system.

  “Um, are we still in our world?” I asked curiously, leaning over the pond to examine the strange water.

  “We’re not in any world.” The expression on my face must have been pretty freaking comical, because Hunter spluttered out a laugh and shook his head. “It’s not like that.”

  “So then what is it like?” I pressed, not in the mood for games.

  “The Council’s chambers aren’t in any one world. Think of it like… a place between dimensions. Time doesn’t pass and things don’t happen the way they would in any other world. But it’s also impossible to find unless you know exactly where to look.”

  “And where would that be, exactly?” I asked.

  “Everywhere and nowhere.” The cocky grin that spread over his face was annoying enough to make me punch him in the arm, as hard as I could.

  Which wasn’t saying much. I really needed to hit the weights.

  “Come on,” he said. “We don’t have much time. There are hunters crawling everywhere, and they pick up on things.”

  “I’m invisible to them,” I reminded him. “We don’t have to worry about that.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” he murmured. “I don’t have my hunter powers anymore. They’ll sense that, and immediately know something’s up.”

  “Oh, great, so you all have fancy sniffers, too,” I sighed. “Then let’s make this quick.”

  I followed Hunter through the tunnels, weaving and ducking as we went. Every once in a while, we’d hear loud, wet footsteps, indicating someone was coming. Hunter would yank me into an unassuming alcove or behind a rock, and I’d peek out and let him know when it was safe to continue.

  This invisibility thing was really coming in handy. I’d have to try it more often.

  Finally, we entered a thin tunnel, and at the end of it, we could hear echoing voices.

  “They’re having a meeting,” Hunter muttered angrily. “I hate these meetings.”

  I didn’t have a chance to ask him just what was so bad about these things before he was off, racing down the tunnel toward the very meeting he’d just said he hated. I had no choice but to follow.

  Hunter crouched low as he exited our tiny tunnel, and got behind a grouping of rocks.

  The space we entered was absolutely humongous. I took full advantage of my wonderful cloaking spell, and stepped silently out of the tunnel and into the cavern.

  It was like a football stadium, but about half the size. All around the room and up the walls were bleachers, which held thousands of men. Their faces blurred together, becoming one. Half of me wanted to be pretty irked that they had decided women didn’t need to be hunters, while the other half of me was mostly relieved.

  Good. We didn’t need to get entangled in this mess.

  In the center of the room sat nine floating faces, staring down at a small figure from high above. They were older men, what I would have guessed to be about seventy in human years, although I couldn’t have known their actual ages since hunters were meant to be immortal.

  Their faces were hard, but maliciously so. The pure evil in their eyes sent a shiver up my spine, and I shook so hard my teeth chattered for a brief second before I clamped them back together. I couldn’t let a soul hear me, or all of this would be over.

  Carefully, I stepped toward the center of the room. I threw a glance over my shoulder to see Hunter having a near conniption at my risky behavior, but I ignored him. I had to know who was in the center.

  “You have failed us,” a loud voice boomed suddenly. It wasn’t until the voice spoke that I realized the room had been totally silent beforehand.

  I looked up to see who had spoken. It was the face in the center of the group, and right now, he was staring down at the hunter, who seemed to be on some sort of trial, like he was pure filth.

  “I’m sorry,” the hunter said.

  Something about his figure struck me as familiar. I took a few more risky steps, until his full form and face were in my view.

  It was the man I’d seen carrying Tanya in. I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep myself from flying at him and strangling him with my bare hands.

  “I do not want your apology!” The floating head spat. “We asked you to bring us the halfling, the granddaughter of Laslow. And you have brought us… what? A consolation prize?”

  “She is another halfling,” the hunter cried out. “I thought it would do for now.”

&nb
sp; “You thought wrong,” the head boomed. “We want the granddaughter of Laslow, and no one else.”

  For some reason, it only registered right then that they were referring to me.

  They wanted me specifically, not just any old halfling.

  I whipped back around, flinging my gaze toward Hunter, who was frantically waving at me to come back to him. As fast as I could without sprinting and making far too much noise, I fled his direction.

  We ran out of that cavern and back down the tunnel, sprinting so fast that we were both out of breath by the time we stopped.

  “They… want… me,” I gasped. “What’s so special about me?”

  “I don’t know.” Hunter shook his head angrily. “I thought they just wanted me to kill you because you’re a halfling. I didn’t know it was anything other than that.”

  “It’s got to be because of Laslow,” I pointed out. “Why else would he refer to me like that?”

  “I don’t know,” Hunter replied honestly. “But we better find Tanya and get out of here before your presence is known. Do you remember where you saw her?”

  “In some cells,” I responded. “The doors were made of iron. And there was a fairy and an elf across from one another.”

  “I know exactly where that is,” Hunter whispered. “Come on.”

  17

  “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” I whispered to Hunter as he led us down the third tunnel in five minutes.

  We’d twisted and turned through a few different tunnels already, but each one had seen us stopping in the middle while Hunter pressed his fingers to his lips in thought, and then turned around and dashed out just as quickly as he had come in.

  “This time, I’m sure,” he nodded sincerely. “It’s been a while since I came here. Things are just a little different, is all.”

  “Different how?” I huffed.

  “The tunnels move,” he replied matter-of-factly. “They change configurations every fortnight to, well, to keep people like us from learning the layout.”

  “Smart.” And it was. It was also annoying. How were we supposed to take the Council down if their darn caves kept changing positions every few weeks?