I shrugged. "Probably not." I stepped down the stairs, one at a time.
Fletcher stayed close behind, almost close enough to breathe on the back of my neck.
"I see why you fell down these," I remarked. Spaced at irregular intervals, each step was uneven and slick. From what, I couldn't tell. Maybe the water in the pool Fletcher mentioned trickled down here a little bit too.
"My father was a builder," Fletcher said. "He wouldn't have approved of the quality of the work either."
The stairs wound around gradually as we descended. They also became increasingly narrow, until the space was so close I almost touched each wall with my elbows.
"We must be almost to the end of the stairs—oh." I stepped around a bend and almost walked into a door.
At the last moment I caught myself and skidded to a stop.
I shone my magic onto it. In the dead centre of the door was the same symbol I'd seen on the trapdoor, a rose encircled with a series of knots.
"Oh hells no," I said. "I am not falling for that again. No way." I backed up a few steps. "We'll need to go back and try the other way."
"It's a dead end," Fletcher said. He worked his way past me and peered at the symbol. "Can you shine a light on the door?"
Reluctantly, I obliged. "I'd rather be as far away from this as I can get," I said.
"It's a keyhole," he said.
I frowned. "What?"
He gestured toward the symbol. "There's a keyhole beside the symbol."
"So?"
He blinked. "I don't know. I suppose it must lead somewhere if we could open it."
"Do you happen to have a key in your pocket?" I asked.
"Only the ones to my house and car," he replied. "My plants are probably dead by now." He rubbed his beard. "Maybe people are the key. People or fae," he added quickly. "That's why we ended up here and no one else did."
"Or maybe someone decided to fuck with anyone who got stuck here." I lowered my hand and crossed my arms.
"I suppose that's possible as well," he conceded. "Should we try to open it?"
"We tried that with the trapdoor and look where that got us." I told him about Ash trying to tug it open. "I assume you tried the same thing?"
"I did," he agreed. "There was no visible lock on it though."
"We still ended up here." I tapped my fingers against my chin. "I've read extensively and I've never seen or heard of a symbol like that, much less one which transports fae, or people, to places like this."
"I might regret this, but I'm going to touch the symbol." He raised his hand toward it.
I caught his wrist. "No you're not."
"One if us has to," Fletcher argued. "If you keep holding on to me, you'll be transported too."
Reluctantly, I let go and stepped back. "This is crazy."
"It might be crazy. It might also explain why there are no bones here. Anyone who has come here before, has left." He cocked his head at me. "It's worth a try."
I shrugged and waved a hand toward the door. I had heard that tone too many times from Birch and Huon. And, if I was honest, myself. When I was determined to do something, I did it, no matter what anyone else said.
"Go ahead," I said.
He turned his back and reached out. His fingertips brushed the symbol.
I held my breath.
Nothing happened.
"Hmmm, did you put a hand on the one on the trapdoor?" he asked.
"No." I shook my head. "I just got near it. Before you ask, I'm not going any closer."
"But what if—"
"No," I said firmly. "I want to get out if here, but not if we end up somewhere worse." I thought for a moment. "I have an idea, but you might not like it?"
"Does it end in a hamburger?"
"Um, sure, why not." If he liked them made from vegetables, since fae didn't eat meat.
"Then I'm in. What is this idea?"
I told him.
"I said you might not like it."
10
"I hate small spaces," Fletcher remarked.
"You've been stuck in the dark for how long?" I asked.
"Long enough to hate small spaces," he replied. After a moment, he added, "It depends on the space though."
"Two," I said.
"Two what?" he asked.
"On a scale of one to ten, I rate that innuendo a two."
"Oh, you're keeping score now?" He sounded amused, but my light was directed at the stairs as we ascended them.
"I wasn't, but I could." I smiled.
He laughed. "What would it take to get a ten?"
I thought for a moment. "I don't know. I suppose you'll find out when you get there." I found myself liking him. His voice was a warm, deep rumble and he obviously had a sense of humour. Apart from having a beard, which would be a side effect of being stuck in here, I had no idea what he looked like.
I preferred to think I wasn't shallow, but Huon, Saff and Ash were all handsome men. Thinking about them made my heart skip and ache. I wanted to see them all, but I wasn't sure I'd ever get out of here. Almost as much as I wanted to see them, I wanted to see Fletcher's face.
I imagined him having dark hair and maybe dark brown eyes, like chocolate. He probably had perfect teeth and soft warm lips I could—
I swallowed hard. Now was not the time to be thinking like this.
"I'll keep trying then," he assured me.
We stepped in the same place I'd arrived and looked around on the ground.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"No, I was just wondering if that symbol was on the floor somewhere. I wouldn't want to accidentally step on it."
Fletcher grabbed my hand. "Just in case one of us is transported out of here," he explained. "At least this way we'll go together."
His hand was firm and rough with callouses.
"Either way, we will." I looked up toward the crack in the ceiling. "I assume, since you're here, you're familiar with the fae ability to make things smaller?"
"I am."
His hand trembled.
"All right then. Hold on tight." I squeezed his hand.
Before I was able to do anything, he said, "Wait!"
I froze. "What? Is something wrong?"
"Just an idea, but what if, instead of shrinking, we grow so big we bust ourselves out of here?" he said.
"What if the walls don't move and we break every bone in our bodies?" I replied.
"Is that possible?"
"So I've heard. Don't worry, we can do this, all right? Trust me."
"I hate those words," he muttered. "They usually come before something bad."
"Not this time," I assured him. "Now hold on." I licked my lips and let my magic work on us both.
At first, it seemed like nothing happened. Then the crack in the ceiling grew further and further away. I didn't dare to take a step. Having reduced us both in size so drastically, we risked falling into a gap between the paving stones.
"All right, put your arms around me. I'll fly us out of here."
He didn't let my hand go until he had one arm around my waist. Then around went the other.
"Maybe not so tight I can't breathe," I suggested.
"Oh, sorry." He loosened his grip slightly. "Flying isn't my favourite thing to do."
"It is mine." I put an arm around him and jumped off the ground, wings flapping hard to drive us up toward the ceiling. Manoeuvring with his weight added to mine was clumsy, and the going was slower than usual, but we neared the crack after a minute or two.
"Are you sure we'll fit in there?" he asked, his voice raised against the rush of wind.
"We'll have to, won't we?" I replied. "Keep your hands and feet tucked close to me."
"Shit," he muttered.
I drew my wings in a little and flitted into the crack. To be honest I wasn't sure would make it. I ducked my head to avoid a piece of broken stone that looked sharp enough to slice off a layer of skin.
The crack itself went deeper than I thought
. The light got brighter, but on and on it went.
Finally, I began to tire and was forced to land in a tiny nook in the stone. At normal size, it might have fit my fingertip. At our current size, we had enough space to step apart and breathe.
"Don't get too close to the edge," I suggested. "It's a long way down."
I didn't have to worry. Fletcher sat down and pressed himself against the wall. The hood fell over the sides of his face.
"Are you all right?" I asked. I crouched down in front of him. I still couldn't make out much of his features, even when he looked up at me.
"Yes. No." He sighed.
"It's all right if you're not," I said gently. "You were down there for a long time."
"Technically I still am," he pointed out, "but I'm worried about what happens afterward. What if I've gone crazy and I just don't know it yet?"
I frowned. "I think you might know if you had."
"Would I? Maybe you're a figment of my imagination."
I pinched him hard on the arm.
"Ouch." He jerked his arm away. "Okay, I guess you must be real."
"I feel as though I might be," I agreed. "Maybe we can rest here for a while and have something to eat." I pulled my bag off my back and drew out some bread and cheese. I offered them both to him.
"Do you want some too?" He sounded so ravenous, I pushed my own hunger aside and shook my head.
"No, it's fine. Go ahead and eat."
He unwrapped the bread, broke a bit off and stuffed it into his mouth. He moaned. "Crap, I'd forgotten how good bread tastes."
I smiled softly. "Now I wish I had some cake."
"No cake? "he asked though a mouthful.
"Not even a crumb," I said sadly. "Although if I had, I would have eaten it already."
"I don't blame you. I miss cake."
"You probably miss a lot of things," I said carefully. "Apart from your houseplants. Do you have a girlfriend in the human realm? Or a boyfriend?"
He snorted softly. "No. Neither of those. Just my plants and my work. Then again, I've probably been fired by now."
For some reason, I was pleased he didn't have a girlfriend. Not that I didn't have my hands full with Huon, Saff and whatever I was feeling for Ash. I couldn't deny that I was drawn to Fletcher as well.
"Your family must be worried." I moved to sit beside him.
"I only have a brother left, and he's probably thrilled to have the house to himself."
"You live together?"
"Yes. We inherited the house from our parents. It made sense to move in. At least, at the time."
"There's hope for those plants yet then," I said cheerfully.
He laughed around a chunk of cheese. "Naw, Rick wouldn't have bothered with them. He's too busy enjoying himself and his inheritance. Mine too by now I suppose. Not that I care about money."
I had visited the human realm often enough to know about money, but it seemed like an odd way to do things. We fae worked in return for food and other things. Everyone had their skills and were happy—for the most part—to share.
"Money can buy cake, if I understand how money works," I said.
He laughed, low and bordering on bitter. "And chocolate. And coffee. I miss coffee even more than I miss hamburgers."
"No coffee I get," I agreed. "We tried bringing it to the fae realm, but for some reason it won't grow here."
"That sucks," he said.
"Agreed. It's another good reason to open the veil again." I peered out the mouth of our cozy little cave. "It's getting dark out there. Maybe we should stay here for the night. I don't want to risk getting lost in a crack in the stone."
He shifted beside me. "Neither do I, but I don't relish the idea of being here any longer than we have to either."
I put a hand on his and squeezed. "I know. We will get out of here." Even if we reached daylight in the morning, I still had no idea where here was. Hopefully tomorrow we'd find some answers.
"What's that?" he asked suddenly.
"What's what?"
"Shhh," he urged.
I did as he asked and listened.
A faint buzzing grew louder as whatever made the noise got closer and closer.
"Shit," I swore.
"Why? What is it?" he sounded frantic.
"I'm not sure, but I think we're about to find out why there are no bones here."
11
I pressed myself against Fletcher as hard as I could and he did the same with me. Maybe by making ourselves look smaller, we might avoid being seen. I didn't say so, but I suspected us being seen might be the least of our concerns.
Sight was only one of the senses.
The buzzing got louder, until I was forced to press my hands down over my ears to block out some of the noise. It echoed, which did nothing to help.
A shadow dropped slowly past our little nook, then another. I made out wings and wide bodies.
"They look like beetles," Fletcher whispered into my ear.
I nodded and swallowed. "Blood beetles," I whispered back.
He groaned softy. "That sounds bad."
I nodded, but I had no more words, nothing of reassurance. At normal size, Blood beetles were like leeches, or mosquitoes. They attached themselves to an unsuspecting fae and sucked their blood, leaving them itchy and irritated.
At our present size, I had no idea what they might do.
Another beetle flew by, but then it popped back up. Mandibles chittered in our direction.
Shit.
Another beetle joined the first.
Then another.
"Maybe I could distract them while you fly away?" Fletcher suggested.
I glanced at him. "I'm not leaving you here."
"It's the sensible thing—"
I tried to laugh, but it came out as a grunt. Huon would have fallen over from laughing so hard if he knew anyone suggested I do something sensible.
All right, it happened from time to time, and perhaps it was the only way we could both escape, but I wasn't leaving an innocent human to his death.
No one deserved to die without eating cake one last time.
"The distraction is a good idea," I said slowly. I rose to my feet. "Can you shout at them or something?"
A fourth beetle joined the others.
And fifth.
Fletcher sprang to his feet and waved his hands in the air.
"Hey, ugly bugs, over here. You're after a tasty tidbit? Look no further. Yoo-hoo, over here?"
Yoo-hoo?
Whatever, it worked.
I took a breath. All right bitches, time to make like a petal.
I lashed out with my magic.
The first beetle was knocked back against the others. It buzzed in irritation and shook it head. It was undeterred, as it moved more quickly toward us.
"You're much less exploded than I hoped," I told it.
Fletcher kicked out at one of the beetles. He must have hit just the right spot, because it flew backward. It slammed into one of its companions and sent them both tumbling over the edge.
"Hell yeah!" He kicked at another but this one stepped out of reach. "They have hard shells," he called out to me. "Can magic get past them?"
I clicked my fingers. "You're right." I dropped into a crouch and sent a blast of magic at the nearest beetle. This time I aimed under its mandibles.
The beetle wobbled for a moment, then blew apart. Chunks of beetle and shell flew in every direction. I threw my arm up over my face, then attacked another beetle.
This one blew apart like the first, but a large piece of shell flew toward Fletcher. He grunted in pain and slumped to the ground.
"Fletcher!"
A beetle headed straight for him, apparently thinking him an easier target than me. It got a finger span away before my magic blasted it.
The remaining beetle, which had stayed in the entry to the nook, backed out and disappeared down the crack.
I waited, but the buzzing retreated until I could no longer hear it. I
sagged in relief, then stepped over toward Fletcher.
I slipped on a pile of beetle innards and had to windmill my arms and throw my wings out a little to avoid falling.
"Yuck." When we got out of here, I would have to wash my boots.
I added my knees to the list of things which needed bathing as I knelt beside Fletcher. The ground beside him was slick and littered with shards of shell.
"Fletcher?" I pressed my hand lightly to his chest. It rose and fell under my palm. Thank the gods, he was still alive.
I touched his head gingerly and felt a little blood and a growing bump, but nothing which seemed too serious.
He groaned. His head twitched.
"What the—"
"Don't move too much. You got knocked out by a piece of shell. You might have a bit of a headache, but I think you'll live."
"That's good." His eyes flicked open. "I don't want to die here, like that." He blinked a couple of times. "Unless you're really an angel."
I frowned. "That's a religious human thing, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to offend you," He said hastily, "I just meant—"
I waved my hand at him in dismissal. "I'm not offended. Human religion is interesting, although some of it is a little weird."
He exhaled through his nose. "I suppose it is. He rubbed his head and sat up slowly. "I know you said we should wait until morning, but if those things come back…"
I interrupted. "Flying with a sore head might be the last thing you do."
"Staying might be the last thing we both do."
I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. "I can hold the beetles off while you sleep, if they do come back."
"Summer." He said my name softly, tenderly.
My heart skipped.
"I feel like I've spent too long doing nothing but sleep. I'm ready to live again. Even if I die in the process."
"That's very noble, but it's not very logical."
"Are fae known for being logical?" he asked.
"Not especially." I smiled. "We're pretty emotional at times and, for those who live for a long time, some of us are dumbasses." I hadn't thought about my sisters for a while. Now I was, I pushed them away. They were the last ones I wanted on my mind right now.
"Fine, let's go on then." I got to my feet and offered my hand.
Shimmer (Summer's Harem Book 1) Page 6