Creepy Hollow 7

by Rachel Morgan

  I uncross my arms and fiddle absently with the sleeve of my sweater. “Weird how? What does my voice sound like when it happens?”

  “Sort of … deeper. A little distorted. And kind of … not like an echo, but it was as if I could hear it in the air all around me.”

  I nod slowly. “It kinda sounded like that to me too.”

  “Do you want to try again?” Violet asks. “Focusing this time, instead of just saying the words.”

  Since it isn’t Dash asking, I agree to try again. I try several more times, even closing my eyes and focusing intently on pulling out that power from deep inside me as I tell Dash he’s allowed to open doorways to faerie paths. But just like at the edge of the cliff, nothing happens. My voice remains normal.

  Eventually I slump back against the couch and hug the fluffy cushion closer to my chest. “See? Can’t do it.”

  “Well, no need to stress about it,” Violet says. “We can definitely help you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And in the meantime, Dash will just have to figure out another way to get around.”

  “Ugh, seriously? I’m going to have to be taken everywhere like a child,” Dash complains.

  “Good thing you work in teams at the Guild,” Ryn says. “One of your teammates should be happy to help you and Jewel, right?”

  “It’s still extremely limiting.”

  “Poor you,” I say without a shred of sympathy.

  His eyes narrow as he looks at me. “You’re enjoying this.”

  I shrug. “You pushed me off a cliff.”

  “Is that going to be your comeback for everything?”

  “Probably. I feel like it’s never gonna get old.”

  “So,” Violet says loudly. “Would anyone like a drink?” She gestures to the tray of glasses Ryn brought with him, which is sitting on a small round table beside his chair.

  “Okay,” I say, pointing to one containing alternating layers of green and pink. “As long as it has no alcohol manufactured by humans.”

  “No alcohol at all,” Ryn assures me as he hands over the glass. “Dash? Would you like something?”

  “Nah, I’m actually gonna go say hi to Gaius if he’s awake. Haven’t seen him in a while. And I’m sure your conversation with Emmy—” he winks at me as he stands “—will be more pleasant if I’m not around.”

  “Finally,” I mutter as Dash walks away. “He doesn’t hang out here often, does he?”

  Violet shakes her head and pushes her hair back away from her face. “Not too often.”

  “Thank goodness for—Oh. Those marks on your wrist.” My eyes follow her arm as she lowers it. “They’re the same as the ones Dash has. Isn’t that supposed to mean you’re a guardian?”

  “Yes.”

  “But … you have a Griffin Ability, so … oh, was this before they came up with a way to test for Griffin Abilities? Sorry, the age thing is confusing. You look so young but you could be a hundred years old for all I know.”

  “Not quite,” she says with a laugh.

  “Not even close, actually,” Ryn adds.

  “But yes, I was a guardian. Ryn, Calla and I were all guardians before we were outlaws. Well, Calla never actually had the chance to graduate, but Ryn and I did. We worked for the Guild for a number of years without anyone knowing we were Griffin Gifted. Then the Guild developed a way to test for Griffin Abilities, and we were revealed as ‘traitors’ along with all the other Griffin Gifted. We ran before the Guild could deactivate our marks, though, so we still have access to our guardian weapons. You may have seen them? Gold and sparkly. They appear when we need them and disappear when we let go.”

  I nod, picturing the fight at the edge of the cliff. “Are those guardian-specific?”

  “Yes. Only guardians have access to weapons like that.”

  “So now you basically do what you did before, but without the Guild’s approval? So … you’re like vigilantes?”

  Her smile is wry. “Pretty much. Not something we ever planned to be, but the Guild kinda forced us into it. Especially since their system doesn’t function as well as it’s supposed to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They work with Seers. Fae who have an ability to glimpse the future. They See things that will go wrong, and the Guild sends guardians to prevent those things from happening. The problem is, there are too many of those visions. There are never enough guardians to deal with them all, so the visions that are deemed less important are thrown out. We have a Guild contact, however, who gathers those up and gets them to us as quickly as possible. We deal with anything that hasn’t already happened.”

  “Cool.” I lapse into silence, thinking through everything she’s explained. Then I remember that I’m holding a drink, so I take a sip. It tastes like a mixture of pine needles and something fruity, which isn’t a bad combination. I wait for Ryn or Violet to ask me a question, but it seems they might be waiting for me to steer the conversation. Either that or they’re having their own silent conversation with their eyes.

  “Anyway,” I say eventually, “what do you guys want to chat about? My Griffin Ability? The fact that I can’t perform even the most basic magic? The fact that my mom isn’t my mom?” Violet raises both eyebrows, and I inwardly curse myself for letting that last one slip out. “Griffin Ability,” I say hurriedly. “Let’s go with that one.”

  “Uh, yes,” she says. “I’m very interested to hear more about your Griffin Ability. I’ve never come across anyone who can speak things into being. That’s incredible.”

  “You mean dangerous, right? That’s what everyone else seems to think.”

  “Dangerous, yes, if you can’t control it. But we’re all dangerous if we can’t control our magic. And you’ve only just discovered yours, so of course you don’t know what to do with it yet. But we’ll do whatever we can to help you, I promise.”

  I chew on my lip and slowly shake my head. “Perhaps I should stop speaking altogether, because I never know when something I say is going to come out as a magical command. Also …” I place my glass on the floor before pressing my hands together. “There’s a possibility Jack is never going to be in trouble again.”

  Ryn tilts his head. “What did you say to him?”

  “I think my exact words were, ‘You should stay out of trouble.’ And my Griffin Ability randomly switched on at that moment. So … I’m not really sure what kind of effect that’s going to have on him.”

  Violet bursts out laughing. “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing the results of that one.”

  “Yeah, but what if I’d said something different? Something bad?”

  Ryn pushes a hand through his hair. “Yes, there are definitely risks as long as you don’t know when the ability will kick in. But completely muting yourself isn’t practical. Perhaps just think about everything you want to say before you say it, and make sure it isn’t a command or instruction.”

  My shoulders slump. “That sounds even less practical. I’m sure it would be easier to tape my mouth closed than to tell myself I have to think about every word before it leaves my mouth.”

  “It won’t be a problem for long,” Violet says. “We can start working on it tomorrow. Well, the next day, I suppose. You’ll need to go to the lab tomorrow so Ana can take a sample of your magic. The elixir to stimulate your Griffin Ability should then be ready the day afterwards.”

  “Lab?” Cold, hard fear takes shape in the pit of my stomach. “I—that’s—I’m not very—”

  “Of course, I’m sorry. Dash mentioned you have a fear of all things medical. But don’t worry. There are no needles or anything. It’s just a simple spell, and you won’t feel a thing.”

  I pluck at the hairs of the fluffy cushion, unable to get rid of my frown. I hate that Dash has been talking about me to these people. What else has he told them?

  “Seriously, Em, it isn’t a big deal,” Ryn says. “We need to take a sample of your magic so we can create an elixir that will stimulate yo
ur Griffin Ability. Once you get used to what it feels like having that particular part of your magic switched on, you can hopefully figure out how to do it without the aid of the elixir. It needs to be specific to your magic, though, which is why we need the sample.”

  I lick my lips, reach forward for the drink at my feet, and take a long gulp. “Okay,” I say after I’ve set it down again. “I guess that makes sense.” That doesn’t mean Ryn and Violet aren’t lying to me, though. They might intend to use my magic for something else.

  Violet leans forward, her amber now clasped between her hands. “Do you want to tell us anything about your mom?”

  Suddenly, this feels like an interrogation. “Um …”

  “What’s her name? What hospital is she at?”

  I scratch at a dirty mark on my jeans. “Daniela Clarke. And she’s at Tranquil Hills Psychiatric Hospital. It’s … well, the setting is tranquil. The inside isn’t.”

  Vi nods and scribbles something onto her amber with a stylus.

  “What are you writing down? Are you telling someone? Dash said those amber things are like cell phones, so are you messaging someone?”

  “Em, calm down,” Ryn says. “She’s taking notes, that’s all.”

  Violet sits back. “I know Dash told you that it isn’t possible for your mom to be your biological mother. That must have been a huge shock for you to find out.”

  I nod but say nothing.

  “I’m really sorry, Em. It’s a lot to take in all at once, I know. Finding out that you’re not who you thought you were and that you might have a whole new family somewhere out there. Do you want us to try find out more about them?”

  I shake my head. “My mom’s my only family. I don’t need to know about anyone else.”

  “Okay. Just let us know if you change your mind.”

  “Yeah.” I won’t be changing my mind.

  “Em, you don’t have to freak out.” It’s Ryn who leans forward this time, watching me intently. “I’m serious. We only want to help you. If you really don’t want us to take a sample of your magic, we’re not going to force you. And if you don’t want to talk about your mother, that’s fine. We won’t mention her again. We want you to feel safe here, that’s all. We’re hiding from the Guild just like you are. We understand what it’s like to be hunted. We understand what it’s like to want nothing more than a safe place to call home.”

  I realize I’ve been holding my breath while he’s been speaking, and I slowly let it out. I think I believe him. I think I do. The only problem is … “This isn’t ever going to be my home,” I say carefully, hoping they understand I don’t mean to offend them. “I have a life somewhere else. And a mother who needs me. I need to get back to that world when my magic is no longer a danger to everyone around me.”

  Ryn nods. “Then that’s what we’ll help you do.”

  Sixteen

  I spend an hour or two that evening in my room with Junie, the elf Jack mentioned earlier, trying not to stare at her ears while she creates linen for the bed and curtains for the windows, and changes the chair from a hard wooden thing into a soft armchair with flower-patterned fabric. Bandit takes an immediate liking to the new armchair and promptly curls up on it and falls asleep. Junie asks if I want anything else, and when I ask about getting a clock so I won’t be late for breakfast in the morning—no more cell phone alarm to wake me up—Junie paints the time onto my wall. A minute later, when the number magically increases by one digit, I suck in a breath. Even after several days in this world, magic continues to surprise me.

  While the room is more rustic than the one I had at Chevalier House, I prefer this one. When I’m finally left alone, I spend a while at the window, staring at the tiny lights in the trees and the millions of stars visible through the dome layer. But eventually my eyelids become too heavy, and I climb into bed.

  I sleep better than expected, waking to the sound of singing coming from the direction of the painted numbers on my wall. After using the pool in my little garden-themed en-suite bathroom, I head down the many stairs on the outside of the tree to Violet and Ryn’s house. I tap on the half-open door before pushing it open and walking into what appears to be their kitchen. The scent of something baking fills the air.

  “Oh, morning, Em,” Violet says, smiling at me over her shoulder. She’s standing at a counter where the contents of a jug seems to be stirring itself, and a knife is neatly slicing through an apple. Her hand hovers above three mugs, and though I can’t see inside them, I assume something magical is going on. “You can take a seat at the table,” she says. “Coffee?”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I was worried coffee might not exist in this world.”

  She laughs, picks up the three mugs, and carries them to the table. The jug carries on stirring itself behind her. “It isn’t quite the same as the coffee you’re probably used to, but hopefully you’ll like it.”

  Jack runs into the kitchen, shouting, “Morning, Em! Did you bring Bandit with you?”

  “Jack, please,” Violet says. “You don’t have to be so loud indoors.”

  “Sorry,” Jack whispers with a mischievous grin as Ryn walks into the room behind him.

  “Hey, Em,” he says to me. Then to Violet: “Sorry, I got distracted. I was going to finish the coffee.”

  “All under control,” Violet tells him. She gives him a quick kiss as he slips his arm around her waist. “Can you get the muffins out?”

  “So did you bring Bandit?” Jack asks again, climbing onto a chair.

  “Actually, he went back to sleep after I got up. He’s probably still upstairs in my room.”

  “Oh.” Jack deflates, then perks up when his mother places a small glass of something brown in front of him. “Ooh, chocolate, chocolate, chocolate.”

  “Hey, can I join you guys for breakfast?” The question comes from the direction of the door, and it’s Calla who’s peering around it. “Chase isn’t back yet.”

  “Of course.” Violet motions to one of the empty chairs. “Are you worried about him?”

  “No, I’m sure he’s fine. Things sometimes take longer than he expects, that’s all. Hey, Em,” she adds with a wave in my direction. “Ooh, are those muffins?” She slips quickly into a chair, rubbing her hands together as Ryn places a plate of steaming muffins in the center of the table. Violet adds a plate of sliced fruit beside it—at least half of which I don’t recognize—while I try to remember if Chelsea, Georgia and I have ever eaten anything that doesn’t come out of a cereal box at breakfast time. I don’t know how to bake, and I doubt they do either.

  “Something to drink?” Violet says to Calla.

  “No, don’t worry. I’ll help myself to something in a minute.”

  Violet joins the table, and Jack proceeds to tell Calla all about Bandit, the ‘new Filigree,’ while everyone helps themselves to food. He then turns his attention to me and gives me a detailed outline of what Bandit’s diet should include and how many times a day I should feed him. “I can help you, if you want,” he adds.

  “Thanks. You can actually keep him if you—” Violet cuts me off with a quick and vigorous shake of her head. I backpedal quickly. “I mean, um, you can keep visiting him. As much as you like. And I’m sure he’d love it if you bring him food.” I risk a glance in Violet’s direction, hoping I’ve successfully fixed my blunder. She smiles and gives me a brief nod.

  Beside her, Calla mutters something and lowers her amber onto the table beside her plate. “Everything okay?” Violet asks.

  “That was a message from Perry. He says there was an attack at a faerie boarding school last night, and another one at that village near Twiggled Horn. That’s the second one at that particular village this week. Something bad is going on out there.”

  “I think I heard about that,” I say, at which Calla looks across at me in surprise. “Well, the first one,” I add. “Not the one that just happened. I only remember because the name of the place is so strange.”

  “It’s the name
of an oddly shaped mountain,” Ryn says. “What did you hear about the first attack?”

  I try to recall the details Jewel passed on to Dash when she received the message. “They said five people were killed, I think. Oh, and they said it was a Griffin attack. I remember now. That was the first time I heard about Griffin Abilities.”

  Calla’s mouth drops open. “What? That’s one of the stories the Guild is spreading around? But we were nowhere near Twiggled Horn. And we don’t kill people. Ugh, the Guild makes me so mad sometimes. I can’t believe they pinned that on us.”

  Her amber buzzes briefly across the table again. She picks it up and reads it. “Oh, brilliant.” Her hands fall to her lap in exasperation. “The Guild’s official message is that no one has claimed responsibility for these recent attacks, but they have reason to believe they were carried out by Griffin rebels.”

  I watch Violet’s hands clench tightly around her knife and fork. Ryn’s expression darkens. “Such lies,” he grinds out between his teeth. “They know it isn’t us, so they’d damn well better be doing whatever they can behind the scenes to figure out who’s really responsible.”

  “Sounds just as messed up as our law enforcement system,” I mutter.

  “Dad,” Jack says uncertainly. “I thought we weren’t supposed to say ‘damn.’”

  A small smile breaks past Ryn’s frown. He reaches across and ruffles Jack’s hair. “You’re right. Thanks for reminding me.”

  “Yeah, I guess we shouldn’t let this get to us,” Calla says, pushing her amber away and selecting another muffin. “The Guild’s been spreading lies about us for ages. This is hardly any different.”

  “True,” Violet says. “Although they definitely need to find out who’s behind this.”

  “Hopefully they can manage without our help,” Ryn says with a superior smile that reminds me, just for a moment, of Dash.

  Calla’s amber shivers yet again. She frowns at the latest message. “Perry says there’s something extra weird about the way these fae were killed. Says I should meet him so he can explain properly.” She stands. “I guess I’d better get going. Oh, but I want some of that chocolate cinnamon stuff Jack loves so much first.” She hurries to the counter.