I tried to ignore the string of drool that was oozing from her perfect, bow tie lips and focused my attention back on the mushrooms. I couldn't believe I'd almost stumbled into them. If I had, I could have ended up in Faery. Alone.
I had no idea if the full moon would've still held its sway over me there. If it had, my one night a month where I got to be the real me, no glamour necessary, could have been my death sentence. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and wished, for the millionth time, that I was still alive. Then there'd be no worrying about faery rings. Humans didn't have enough magic in them to use the small blip in the Veil's security. Lucky them.
“Georgette,” Corey snapped for what was most likely the tenth time. I shook my head and looked up at him.
“What?” He sneered at me and ran a hand over his face. Elizabeth giggled.
“That kind of attitude is only going to get you killed, Georgette.” Corey threw his pack into the center of the mushrooms. The navy backpack landed in the debris with a whoosh of dirt and scattered leaves. “I'm sending Colette in first,” he said, gesturing at our newest addition. Corey named everything he raised, including zombies. “Just to test the waters. We have no idea where this ring leads. It could land us right in the lap of Queen Scatach herself.” He took a deep breath and shuddered. I had to agree with him on that one; I'd heard a lot about the infamous Unseelie Queen and none of it was good.
“Then George and I will go next. Elizabeth will come last. Lynna,” he pointed his finger at the vampire. “I want you to go back to the house. If we're not back in – ” He paused. “Three days, then we're not coming back. Your will is your own.” Lynna nodded, tucking a strand of poorly dyed red hair behind one ear.
“Yes, Master,” she cooed in her come-and-get me voice. I hated when she called him that. When anyone called him that. And they all did. Except for me.
I watched Lynna’s barely covered ass tramp up the hillside. She stopped at the top of the hill and blew Corey a kiss. I felt sorry for her. She hadn't always been like that. She'd been a lot nicer before she was turned.
I glanced back at the zombie in her terry cloth, periwinkle bathrobe. She was watching Corey much like a dog awaiting its master's commands. Except, unlike a dog, there was no expectation in those eyes of reward or fear of punishment. There was nothing.
He gestured once with his hand and she shambled forward, crushing more of the buff-brown mushrooms than was really necessary until she stood in the center of the ring with the backpack. It took less than a second for the magic to wrap around her; it twirled white and gold fingertips of light up her legs, torso, and finally her head. The tendrils pushed themselves between her fingertips, into her open mouth, and through the loops on her bathrobe until she was covered in a soft glow. And then she, and the pack, were gone. Just like that. Despite its association with the world of Faery, the Veil's magic was nothing like theirs. There was no pomp and circumstance. It was what it was and nothing more. It was one of the reasons that I liked it so much.
Elizabeth and I waited in tense, uncomfortable silence while Corey's eyes filled with his magic. Lit from within like that, they were unnaturally bright, almost neon. I knew that right now, he was seeing whatever Colette's eyes would have seen, had she still been alive. After several moments, his eyes faded back to their usual gold-flecked green and he nodded in satisfaction.
“Perfect. I know exactly where we are. And if we hurry, we can be at Aife's gates before the sun rises.” Corey held out his leather gloved hand to me. I grasped it tightly and took a steadying breath. He had assured me that traveling across the Veil was no more painful than the change in air pressure while on an airplane. I had to trust him on that, or I was never going to be able to make my feet carry me across the circle. We exchanged one last glance before stepping forward together simultaneously.
The touch of the magic made my limbs feel numb; it was as if I'd been sitting cross legged too long and my muscles had finally gone to sleep. The prickling in my limbs was uncomfortable but as Corey had said, not painful. It was as if a warm, soft mist was permeating my skin and putting me to sleep while at the same time, waking me up in ways I'd never felt before. I could feel the glamour like a layer of paint across my skin. It was cloying and hot, and I felt suddenly trapped inside the beautiful shell. If I threw it off, I could run, free, in my own skin until I met the edge of the world …
I gasped as my vision sharpened to a tiny pinprick in front of me. Whatever was trying to entice me to throw off my glamour was nearby and its pull was strong. I wrenched my hand away from Corey just as he began to tighten it and threw myself forward. I ended up stumbling over Colette's feet and rolling down what felt like a small hill.
As soon as I stopped moving, I began to fumble around for something, anything to hold onto but my legs were already a step ahead of me. I was up and running before I could stop myself. I admit, the warm, salty air that stung my face felt good and I was tempted to keep running even when Corey's magic grabbed hold of me.
“Georgette, come back here. Now.” The hold of his power was too strong for me to resist, even with the other entity pulling me in the opposite direction. My body stumbled to a halt and I collapsed back to the ground.
My vision began to filter back in slowly, revealing a sea of white in front of me. It was a field of knee high grass colored a fine, powdery white, and when I ran my fingers across it, it had the texture of fine wool. I shook my hand to rid it of the odd sensation and sat up until I found myself staring at a copse of trees. Or at least, I thought they were trees. The one in front took up most of my field of vision. It was like the infamous Angel Oak that I had read about. I wouldn't have been surprised if fifteen people could hide behind its massive trunk. Curved, gnarled limbs filled my vision, spilling from the trunk towards the dark sky like tentacles and then dropping gently to the earth as if they had hit a ceiling and had nowhere else to go. I was suddenly struck by the image of spiders, their limbs tangled together as they scrambled to find space from one another. I was so impressed by the shape and size of the tree that the white bark and black leaves tickling the ends of the limbs failed to surprise me. The little creature in the grass however managed to do that just fine.
“You smell like rot,” he spat at me, reaching one spindly hand up to adjust his red pointed hat. I schooled my features into steely indifference and glanced down at him. His orange face was squinched, his eyes mere slits and his nose short and rounded like a pig's. He trailed a finger that looked suspiciously like it had one too many joints around the trailing tip of the hat.
“You. Smell. Like. ROT!” he chortled, leaping into the air and clacking his ankles together. His legs were bent backwards, like a cricket's. A fae. What kind, I didn't know. That could get me hurt. It could get me killed.
I looked behind me, trying to find Corey or Elizabeth, but they were nowhere to be seen. Where had I fallen? It hadn't felt like a long way. I shouldn't have been more than twenty feet away from them and yet, I was alone.
“Are you listening to me, Georgie Porgie?” he cackled, stretching to his full height, which couldn't have been more than two feet. I kept my lips sealed. Speaking a simple 'hello' could get me killed. I certainly wasn't going to stop and answer questions. Then again, not speaking could get me killed. I didn't even want to know how he knew my name or why he was speaking in perfect, unaccented English.
“How ruuuuude,” he drawled, putting a long, thin cigarette between his lips. When he opened his mouth to blow the smoke out, his face split in half from ear to ear revealing tiny, square teeth. I pushed myself to my feet and made my way up the knoll behind me. It was the only logical place that I could have come from.
The fae trailed close behind, not so much by walking but by leaping with his oddly jointed legs.
“If you're looking for the Queen, you're going the wrong way,” he said casually, bouncing in front of me. I stumbled to the side and grasped a handful of grass to maintain my balance. Was this hill getting steepe
r by the moment?
“Corey!” I shouted, cupping one hand around my mouth. Nothing. He had held me back from whatever had been calling me. He had to be around here somewhere. I paused for a moment and tried to feel or listen for some sign of him. I heard neither the call of the unknown entity nor Corey. The only magic I could feel around me was my glamour.
“Corey,” said the tiny orange fae. “Corey, Corey, Corey.” I finally stumbled over the crest of the hill. The fairy ring was still there, but nobody else was. Not even my new zombie friend.
“What the hell?” I gasped, my breath coming shallow and uneven. The air was warm and salty, heavy. It was hard for my glamoured lungs to take in.
“Hell?” the fae said, head cocked to one side. His pointed ears twitched back and forth like a German shepherd’s. “I guess you could call it that.” I ignored him and turned back towards the copse. The white oak tree looked different. As if the limbs had readjusted themselves in the few moments I had been turned away. It was certainly possible, but I hoped not.
“I can take you to the Queen,” the fae said, leaping as if to get my attention. “For a price.” I rolled my eyes and knelt down, trying to inch my way down the hill. It had definitely gotten steeper. I tried to wrack my brain for an idea on what to do. I knew little to nothing about Faerie. From the few journals Corey had kept of his travels to the smattering of information I'd gleaned from Rachel, the only thing I knew for sure was that it was dangerous.
“Georgie Porgie pudding and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry. When the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away.” The fae cackled maniacally. I whirled around to face him, fists clenched and jaw tight.
“You think you're so funny?” I snapped, feeling each and every jab from elementary school and even into high school. “Well, I've heard that one before.” I stumbled back, alarmed at my own outburst. The fae just laughed some more and adjusted his hat. I misplaced a foot and ended up tumbling back down the hill again.
It was now so steep that I wound up rolling all the way to the base of the giant oak tree. I lied on my back in the moist dirt and watched in horror as several of the smaller limbs wriggled their way towards me. The first wrapped itself around my ankle like a python. I instinctively jerked my leg away, but the limb tightened until I couldn't help but let out a scream. Fucking glamour.
The fae leapt up next to me and tsk-tsked.
“I would have warned you, but you. Smell. Like. ROT!” he screamed and bounced away into the grass. He paused, a tiny speck in the distance, just out of reach of the tree. Another limb was trying to weasel its way underneath my torso. I sat forward, using the pull of the other branch as leverage and tried to think clearly. I reached my arms down and wrapped them around the bark. It was smooth and uncharacteristically warm. The tree was even covered with a fine layer of moisture. I couldn't help but imagine that it was sweating though if I'd been in my right mind, I might have realized it was the mist from the humid air.
“Georgie Porgie pudding and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry.” I tried to ignore the chant as I put every bit of undead strength at my disposal into prying off the limb. “When the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away.” I could lift an entire car without a problem. My body wasn't driven by muscular strength but by magic. I should have been able to remove a branch that was no thicker around than my arm, but I couldn't. I couldn't even get it to loosen its grip.
The second limb was inching back towards my waist, and I was starting to lose feeling in my foot.
“Where the hell are you, Corey?” I snapped at the tree as I tensed my leg muscles and pulled. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Do you have a knife?” My head jerked up in response to the new voice. He spoke in the same language that Rachel did, but his voice was distinctly male, deep and smooth. I didn't respond but felt around my black, canvas slacks. Nothing. I usually carried a small pocket knife though I had doubted it would scathe the thick bark of the tree.
“Are you looking for this, Georgie Porgie?” cried the tiny fae as he bounced several steps closer to me. “I'll give it back but for a price.” He cackled and stretched his legs out beneath him so I could easily see him dangling the mahogany plated Swiss army knife in front of him.
I yelped as the second limb finally found purchase around my waist and squeezed. The air whooshed from my lungs and a scream caught deep in my throat. I couldn't believe it was going to end like this.
A small sigh sounded behind me, and I heard footsteps as the owner of the voice approached.
Hot warm liquid sprayed my back and a piercing scream shattered the still air. My hands retreated reflexively to my ears as I tried to drown it out. It was to no avail as the sound wound its way between my fingers and rocked my eardrums. It was ghostly and sad like a woman separated from her lover. Like Rachel's scream, like a banshee. The saturnine requiem drenched me as surely as the blood that soaked into my shirt and dripped between my breasts. I was so entranced by it that I barely noticed the loosening of the limb around my ankle.
There was a deep groaning and creaking of wood like an old house settling as the branches of the massive tree pulled away from me and retreated upwards towards the purple clouds.
The screaming finally stopped and I pulled my hands down to my sides, turning my face slowly so as not to alarm whatever it was that had set me free.
I had been expecting another small fae like the one that was still giggling and sucking on the end of my knife. When I'd twisted my neck back as far as it could go, I was met only with shins clad in loose, cream-colored silk trousers. My gaze traveled slowly up long lean legs to a bare chest. His skin was pale and ghostly with just the slightest hint of a blue sheen, almost a glow.
A dark sloe-eyed gaze was narrowed down at me and his right hand was clutching a knife, soaked to his wrist in blood.
“Are you a fool or a madman?” he asked me. I wasn't sure if it was just a question or a fae trick. I kept quiet.
“Georgie Porgie pudding and pie,” the little fae began again. The fae behind me scowled, and it was one of the most wicked things I had ever seen. He stalked through the grass like it was water and he was a shark. He was all muscle and liquid, fluid grace. It was both frightening and engaging. I couldn't look away.
He paused several inches from the tiny fae and for a moment, just a moment, I thought he was going to cut it with the knife.
“Kissed the girls and made them cry,” it continued, either not noticing or not caring that the other fae was standing in front of him. “When the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away.” The knife disappeared from his hand as if it had never been and he leaned down, slowly, the muscles in his broad back sliding around beneath the skin. He reached the bloody hand out and brushed his fingers across the other fae's forehead.
The little creature gasped as if seeing him for the first time and stumbled backwards, dropping my pocket knife into the grass. “Ama-” it started, its slitted eyes opening wide. They were solid white as if they'd rolled back into his head. His body began to twitch violently, spittle dribbling from his frog-like mouth as he collapsed into the grass, obscuring my view of him. I didn't feel at all sorry for him, but I knew beyond a doubt that I better get myself out of there.
I stood up quickly, ignoring the screaming pain in my ankle. It wasn't real though my brain was trying to convince me otherwise. I leapt over one of the massive white roots and took off into the field. There was no way that I was going to run through the copse.
I had no idea where I was going, but I pushed myself to the magical limit to get as much distance between us as possible. He might have saved me from the tree, but that didn't mean the blue fae was a good person. The fae weren't known for being generous or kind. He'd probably expect a boon from me. If he could catch me.
My legs flew across the woolen grass as I tried desperately to discern a direction for myself. I didn't have much time. The last hill I had passed over had been hiding a massive, winding r
iver from me. The waters were frothy and black and I knew by sheer instinct that what I would find in and around the water would be just as unpleasant, if not more so, than what I had already encountered.
I veered away from the water and found myself running towards another forest. At least this one was populated by normal trees. The familiar brown and green drew me like a fly to honey.
I tried for one last push of speed and watched as the distance closed quickly between me and my perceived sanctuary.
A stag stepped from the woods, effectively blocking my path. He was white, like most everything else I'd seen here, with an impressive set of blue-violet horns. I ground my feet into the dirt and stumbled a few steps before coming to a complete halt. I didn't bother to look behind me. The sloe-eyes gave him away.
“What do you want?” I gasped, desperate now. Keeping my mouth shut was no longer going to keep me safe.
The stag raised himself on his hind legs before melting back into the form of the handsome fae. I'd never seen anyone shift before, but he made it look incredibly easy. The horns melted against his skull, becoming hair that trailed down behind his shoulders. The fur glimmered and settled against his flesh, taking on the pale blue glow at the last moment before wrapping tightly around his muscles. His eyes remained dark with just the barest hint of white around the iris. He cocked his head at me and stared, silent as death. Everything here was silent. I hadn't heard a single chirping bird or croaking frog.
He stepped from beneath the trees slowly, his now naked body quickly gathering moisture from the air until little droplets fell from his sharp nose and lips. The fae bent down and snagged a tiny twig from the grass. As he stood, he raised both hands to his head and quickly gathered the hair into a bun at the nape of his neck, using the twig to hold it in place.
“I asked you a question. Don't you think it would be rude of you not to answer?” he asked me, standing with his hands now loosely draped at his sides. I took a step back, but it was more out of nervousness than anything else. I had nowhere to go.
Gray and Graves: A Dark Fae Menage Urban Fantasy (The Three Courts of Faerie Book 1) Page 5
