by Linsey Hall
Holy fates!
It’d knocked out Lachlan!
Muffin meowed. I’m gonna get that bird!
His little legs kicked in the air as the flowers tossed him around. Valiantly, he tried to reach the sparrow, but he had no control over the direction of his flight. I tumbled through the air, my panic rising. The sparrow flew for me, the mallet raised high. Dark delight glinted in the bird’s eyes.
Princess Snowflake III yowled. She was close to the bird. It turned toward her, and she went for its face, luck sending her flying right toward him. She clung to him, hissing and scratching, but he shook her off. A red tulip caught her. In the distance, Lachlan’s unconscious body lay limp as it was tossed from bloom to bloom. He must have been hit right in the head. The cats flew through the air, hissing and yowling.
The bird spun in the air, heading for me.
I tumbled and landed on a daisy that flung me upward almost immediately. I’d lost all sense of time and direction as panic flared within me. I had to stop them.
The bird dived for me, its heavy mallet ready.
Sweat chilled on my skin as I called on my magic, praying that anything would come to the surface. My shield, the light, the prophecy telling me what to do. Anything.
The bird neared, swinging the mallet for me. I curled in on myself, barely avoiding the blow, and the bird cawed. It spun, returning for me.
I ignored it—I had to. I needed to put every bit of focus toward the magic inside me. It was faint, like the glow of a lighthouse far away. Desperately, I reached for it.
Muffin meowed. Hurry up, failed hunter!
But I was too slow. The bird swung its mallet for me and nailed me in the stomach. The wind rushed out of me as agony shot through me.
I tumbled through the air as the bird flew off, swooping high into the sky. When I landed on a giant fluffy pink flower, it threw me right back up into the air. Helplessness made my skin itch.
I reached a peak, then fell, catching sight of the bird going straight for Muffin, his mallet raised.
The mallet was so big it could kill the little cat.
Fear and rage boiled up in me like lava. I have to save him. Magic followed, flowing hot and strong through my veins. It lit me up like a live wire, blasting out of me and lighting up the sky with a bright white light. It blinded me as I fell back onto a flower.
And lay still.
Blinking, I sat up.
What the heck?
All the flowers were still, frozen in space. The bird was frozen, too, its gray body resting on a large sunflower and its mallet gone. Light glowed around the flowers and the bird, pale and pure. I could feel it, like an extension of myself.
Holy crap, was that my magic?
It had to be, but I didn’t know how to use it.
The Cats of Catastrophe stood shakily on their blooms. Bojangle’s messy fur seemed to have straightened out and his goofy grin was gone. He’d been bopped so hard he’d turned into a regular cat, and he did not look happy about it.
I scrambled across the tops of the flowers, leaping from a daisy to a poppy to a rose.
Bojangles was closest, and I fell on my knees next to him. I grabbed his little head and shook gently. His mouth twitched, then turned up at the corners. The fur on top of his head stood straight up in its signature messy style. He relaxed.
Muffin and Princess Snowflake III inspected him, sniffing his head.
“You good?”
He meowed, and it didn’t sound nearly as distressed, so I stood. I needed to find Lachlan. He was farther away, his limp body nearly falling off a purple pansy. I scrambled toward him, leaping from flower to flower.
I was nearly there when the white light brightened in front of me. A glowing figure appeared, amorphous and indistinct. The power that emanated from it almost sent me to my knees. I stumbled to a halt, gasping.
“You are slow, Ana Blackwood.” The masculine voice was heavy with strength, but the words pissed me off.
“Who the heck are you?”
“I would think you’d know that.”
“Well, I don’t.” I couldn’t make out the figure’s features, but I could sense its scowl.
“You must embrace the light of life, or you will collapse in on yourself and disappear into madness.”
“Is that a threat?”
The figure shrugged. “You’ve known this was your fate. I suggest that you try harder.”
“You—”
The figure disappeared, and I almost screamed with frustration. I shoved it away, though. No time for musing over godly figures when Lachlan was about to take a two-story tumble to the forest floor. Quickly, I raced over the last of the petals, jumping onto his flower.
My landing shook the stalk, and he nearly fell off the edge. I grabbed his arm and held tight, dragging him back onto the soft purple surface. My muscles strained with the effort—he was one seriously heavy dude.
When he was safely situated on the flower, I bent over him, worry tightening my chest. Blood coated his hair. The sparrow had landed a head shot.
Fates. My heart clutched and my skin chilled.
I shook him lightly. “Come on. You gotta wake up. I don’t know how long I can hold these flowers off.”
They were pulling at my magic, trying to break free of its spell. I tried to keep part of my mind on the light, forcing it to hold the flowers captive. Control them, somehow. I shook Lachlan again.
He groaned, then blinked his eyes open.
“Thank fates!”
“Don’t shout,” he groaned.
“Sorry. Can you move?”
“I think so. What happened?”
“A giant sparrow hit you over the head with a mallet.”
“A sparrow?” His eyes sharpened. “I fight thousands of demons in my life, and it’s a bloody bird that gets me?”
“It’ll get you again if you can’t get your big butt over the side of this flower and down to the ground. I can’t carry you.”
He nodded, brow creased, and raised himself up. He looked around, eyes widening. “Is this your magic?”
“Yep. No idea how, though.”
“Well done. Let’s get out of here.”
The cats had already started to shimmy their way down the stalks, and Lachlan and I followed suit, each of us sliding down a different stem. My legs were shaky as I landed. The cats wobbled up to me.
Let’s shake a tail and get out of here.
“Wiser words never said, Muffin.” It was almost full dark now, and we’d lost the light. I tugged a little compass out of my pocket. The beat-up thing was enchanted to have a few uses, but right now we needed it for its original purpose. It pointed east, and I started off that way.
“Aren’t you prepared,” Lachlan said.
“Plan A, B, and C won’t get you far if you don’t know how to get there.” I tucked the compass away in my pocket and matched my pace to Lachlan’s. He was slower now, the head wound clearly doing a number on him.
We departed the forest of flowers and entered a fantastical rock garden. Every shape and size dotted the land, but it was the giant cat-shaped rock that caught my eye. No sooner had I spotted it than it disappeared, leaving only a grin behind. That, too, faded eventually.
“That was quite the show,” a voice to my left said.
I turned, catching sight of a grinning cat. He was yellow and brown, with long whiskers and cunning eyes.
“The Cheshire cat,” I said.
“The one and only.” He inclined his head, but the gesture was somewhat mocking. “And who are you? Someone special, I presume?”
His gaze traced over me as he licked his lips.
Danger. Something in me screamed it. This wasn’t some normal cat, and his interest was unusual.
“Not special,” I said. “Not special at all.”
“Hmmm.” The cat’s figure shimmered, as if he were only partly there. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.”
Muffin looked at me. Don’t tell him
what you are.
No kidding.
The Cheshire cat’s gaze moved to Lachlan. “Do you know what she is?”
He glared at the cat.
“I could get you a good price for her.” The cat grinned.
Lachlan frowned at the cat. “You must be joking.”
“Oh no.” The cat’s magic swelled on the air. “I can offer you all the wishes of your heart.”
I blinked. Suddenly, it was a lot easier to take the cat seriously.
It had to be his magic, which swirled around him like a pale purple smoke, twisting through the air toward Lachlan.
Uh-oh. Muffin arched his back and hissed.
The smoke twined around Lachlan, making his eyelids droop. A blissed-out expression crossed his face, and he swayed.
“What’s happening?” I demanded. “Stop.”
Muffin meowed. It’s his magic. He’s famous for it. The bastard is impossible to resist.
The Cheshire cat’s magic pressed in on me, feeling like a cloying hug. The smoke wrapped around Lachlan. “What is it you desire, human? You can have it, if you give her to me. Anything at all.”
Funny thing was, I believed the cat. He could make it happen. Whatever Lachlan wanted, it would be done.
“Just tie her up and leave her here,” the cat purred, his eyes glinting with an evil light. “Then your greatest wish is yours.”
Don’t! I wanted to cry out, but I couldn’t. It seemed like a pretty good deal, actually. Lachlan should really take him up on it. Anything his heart wanted.
Anything.
Lachlan stood firm, a grimace twisting his features.
“Do it.” The words were dragged out of me, though I wasn’t very surprised. Why wouldn’t I advise him to do something that would give him his heart’s desire? I wasn’t a totally shit friend. “Do it.”
“Listen to her,” hissed the cat. “She wants you to.”
Lachlan shook his head, but it looked like a monumental effort. Desire flashed on his face, pure and bright. For a second, I wondered what it was that he wanted above all else.
“No,” he bit out.
And I believed him.
Muffin screeched and lunged for the Cheshire cat, white claws flashing in the moonlight. He tried to swipe the other cat across the face, but the Cheshire cat disappeared.
The purple smoke that filled the air vanished, its magic fading too. It released me, and I sagged, gasping. The sudden desire to support Lachlan in giving me to the Cheshire cat vanished.
But the cat didn’t. He reappeared on another rock.
Muffin launched himself at the cat, his own magic filling the air. The Cheshire cat hissed, back arched, then sat down and tried to look unaffected.
“All right, all right, Cat Sìth. I won’t make bargains with your humans.”
Muffin hissed. See that you don’t, or you’ll regret it.
The Cheshire cat shrugged. “You are seeking something in this forest, I presume?”
“We are,” Lachlan said.
The cat turned to stone again, but still spoke. “I am certain you are not seeking what you should be seeking.”
“What should we be seeking?” I asked, though I definitely didn’t trust him.
“Shelter for the night. You are not from this forest, and the devil rabbits know. They will come for you soon.”
“Those rabbits with fangs?” The memory made me shiver. If there were enough of them, we were screwed. This sounded like a warning I could trust.
“The very same. But I can direct you toward shelter that will protect you for the night. For a price.”
“Not me,” I said.
“No, your friend the Cat Sìth has made that quite clear.” The cat’s gaze flicked to Lachlan. “And it doesn’t seem like your human friend will accommodate me, either. Very unusual.”
Muffin hissed for good measure, and Bojangles joined him, arching his back and hopping backward. The effect wasn’t quite as terrifying as the little orange cat probably thought it was, but I appreciated the effort. Princess Snowflake III cleaned her claws, her eyes glued to the Cheshire cat. That threat was clear.
“What do you want, then?” Lachlan asked.
His gaze moved from me to Muffin. “Nothing you have, human woman.”
Muffin’s green eyes glinted. I’ll handle this.
He sauntered up to the Cheshire cat and meowed.
The Cheshire cat listened intently to Muffin, then nodded. They were bargaining, though I couldn’t tell over what. As I listened, I began to pick up the sound of rustling in the forest. I turned, searching the darkness beyond. The sun had fully set now, and the forest was much less cheerful. Considering that the cheerful version of this place had nearly killed us, I didn’t want to meet the creepy version.
Magic sparkled around my sphynx friend, then the stone at his ear disappeared. It appeared a moment later in the Cheshire cat’s ear.
The now-bejeweled cat grinned his trademark smile, then pointed behind him. “That way. Five hundred yards. You’ll find a cottage for the night. Don’t leave until dawn. And I suggest you hurry.”
“Thanks.” I eyed him suspiciously, then departed the clearing with my friends.
“Do you believe him?” I asked Muffin.
He shrugged a bony shoulder. It will be a cottage. But it may be utter shite.
“We’ll just have to find out.” Lachlan pointed to the glowing eyes that were starting to appear through gaps in the bushes. More appeared every second. As soon as they had the numbers, they’d charge.
The five of us raced through the forest, as fast as we could stumble along. Given our injuries and our aches, it wasn’t an impressive speed, but the sound of rustling forest leaves and the sight of glowing eyes kept us going.
When the house appeared in the distance, we all skidded to a stop.
“Bloody hell,” Lachlan muttered.
I stared at the candy and gingerbread confection. “You have got to be kidding me.”
I wouldn’t be complaining if I saw a house made of tuna.
I glanced down at Muffin. “Do you know who is in there?”
Santa?
“This is not the North Pole.”
Muffin shrugged.
“The witch who lives there tries to eat children, is that it?” Lachlan asked.
“You don’t know your fairy tales very well, do you?”
“Once upon a time, I did.”
I grinned. “Once upon a time?”
“Seemed appropriate. But I started training early, so it’s been a while since I heard a fairy tale.”
Training in his magic, I had to assume. “Yes, the witch eats children. Hansel and Gretel are the most famous.”
He eyed the cottage. “Let’s go rescue them, then.”
7
He was right. Every muscle I had felt like jello, but I was going to have to find some strength. Because we had to save those kids, if they were in there. We were doing a lot of saving here in the fairytale forest, it seemed. Maybe the Cheshire cat had sent us here to save them. More likely, he’d sent us here to become dinner.
Quietly, we crept toward the house. My skin chilled as we neared, thinking of the old witch who would actually eat children. It had been a cute fairy tale when I was a kid. Now that I was actually going to face her? It was like meeting freaking Hannibal Lecter.
We crouched beneath the windowsill, then popped up and peered through the cloudy glass. It was sugar, if I remembered the tale correctly.
There was no one inside.
Dang.
A rustling sound from behind caught my ear. Witch!
I turned around to find her, but caught sight of dozens of fanged rabbits hopping toward us. They wore all different sorts of hats, and their eyes gleamed with evil light.
Oh crap!
“Inside!” I hissed. “Gotta get inside! Deal with the witch in there!”
We rushed in through the door, Lachlan leading the way. The cats scampered in, fur sticking out in
all directions. Except Muffin, who just looked a bit shaky.
I stopped dead in the middle of the room, spotting two children with bags over their shoulders. One was skinny and one was plump, and both looked happy and tired at the same time.
“We’re here to save you,” I said.
“Too late, lady,” Hansel said, flicking his blond hair back. “My sister took care of the witch.”
“Burned her up real good.” Gretel pointed to the oven behind her. The iron door was shut.
I swayed a bit on my feet at the idea of a body in there. “Well done.”
“We’ll be off, then,” Hansel said. “Take care not to leave the cottage at night.”
“What about you?” Lachlan asked. “There are hundreds of devil rabbits out there.”
“They’re called Fangbunnies.” Gretel stressed the word like Lachlan was a moron. “And we’re from here, so they’ll leave us alone. They only eat visitors. So stay inside.”
“With the witch?” I asked.
“She’s dead.” Hansel’s tone was no-nonsense. A real get-over-yourself, fairy-tale style.
“Right. Of course.” I nodded, pretending to be as tough as these kids. They were hardened little cherubs. “The rabbits are worse.”
“You have no idea, lady.” Gretel grinned. “Have a good night.”
With that, they turned and walked out into the night.
I went to the window and watched them stride off, the rabbits clearing a path for them, then I turned back to Lachlan. “Well, that was something.”
“Those kids didn’t need saving.”
“No, they didn’t.” I pointed to the open and empty chests in the corner of the cottage. “And they cleaned the old witch out. Took every pearl and piece of gold she had.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about them.” He went to the makeshift kitchen, which was made up of a table and chairs, along with some bowls and a pitcher. An ice box sat on the floor, and he opened it. “How do you feel about cheese and bread for dinner?”
“Better than I feel about eating her creepy house made of cake.” And I was grateful that the options were vegetarian, given what she’d intended to do with the children.