Creepy Hollow 7

by Rachel Morgan

  “We can take them both back,” Roarke says. “I think this conversation is over. For now, at least.”

  I look back and forth between the two of them. “Wait. Am I missing something? You’re not forcing me to go with you to … I don’t know, your palace or wherever?”

  “No.”

  “But … I don’t understand. You said your father wants my Griffin Ability.”

  “He does,” Roarke says. “And so do I. But he and I have slightly different views on how, exactly, to possess that power. He’s happy to force you into doing his will. To keep you as a prisoner. I, on the other hand, would prefer it if you willingly became a member of our court. Our family.”

  I wonder again if this guy is genuinely insane. “Why would I ever come willingly?”

  As if it’s the simplest answer in the world, he says, “To save your mother.”

  “Come on, Roarke,” Aurora says. “Let’s go.”

  “I’d like you to keep this, Emerson,” Roarke says, holding out the smallest mirror I’ve ever seen. It’s round and would fit easily into the palm of my hand. “A simple touch of magic, and it will contact me. If you change your mind, you can let me know.”

  I stare at the mirror without taking it. “I won’t be changing my mind.”

  “Well, if you won’t take it …” He steps closer, grips my shoulder so I can’t move away, and slips the mirror into the left front pocket of my jeans. He’s so close now. So close and so damn sure of himself. He’ll have no idea what’s hit him when I bring my knee right up into his—

  “What’s going on?” Dash asks. He sits up, blinks, then jumps quickly to his feet.

  “It’s okay.” I hurry to his side before he can attack anyone. I wouldn’t mind seeing Roarke flat on the ground, but right now it’s probably more important to get out of here. “These friendly people were just about to let us go,” I say to Dash. “I’ll explain everything when we get back.”

  “Roarke? Aurora?” a deep voice calls from beyond the hedge on our right.

  “Dammit,” Roarke mutters. “Go that way,” he says to us, pointing in the other direction. “Hide.”

  I don’t need to be told twice. I grab Dash’s arm, and together we run. Past hedges and rose bushes and through the rising wisps of smoke. The garden is endless, with the same features repeating over and over and the edges of my vision remaining hazy. Eventually, Dash tugs me to a stop. Shadow-black smoke dances and curls around us. He swats at it. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Em,” he pants. “But let’s get the hell out of here first.” He pats his jacket, finds his stylus, and bends down to write on the ground.

  Nothing happens.

  “What the fffffudge-pixie? Why isn’t it working?”

  “What the what? Okay, when we’re done panicking, we’re going to have a serious conversation about your extremely weird curse words.”

  “Em! Why can’t I open the faerie paths?”

  “I—I don’t know. We didn’t actually get here through the faerie paths. There was a bright flash, and then we arrived.”

  “That’s very strange.” Dash turns slowly, looking around. “I don’t even know if we’re in our world.”

  Something moves against one of the hedges. An unnatural shape, twisting and stretching and pulling away from the leaves. “Dash.” Sick terror coalesces in my stomach. I reach for his hand and grip it tightly. “What is that?”

  I hear his intake of breath the moment he sees it. “What the …” His hand tightens around mine. He pulls me closer against his side. The ghostly shape—a being so black it could be made of the darkness of the faerie paths—billows and shifts and dives toward us.

  Dash’s hand flies up. Bright sparks shoot away from him, heading straight for the shadow creature. Unfortunately, the magic passes right through the shifting darkness and out the other side, as if this being is made of nothing.

  “Run!” We take off again, faster than before, weaving and dodging through this endless, smoke-mist garden. I throw a look over my shoulder, and the creature is high in the air, bigger and closer. Then it swoops down, becoming a twisting snake-like thing gliding over the grass in pursuit of us. “Crap oh crap oh crap,” I gasp, looking forward and forcing my legs to move faster. “Wait, is that a door?” Off to the left, in the center of another hedge, I see an open arched doorway and light beyond it.

  “Yes.” Dash swerves toward it. “Dammit, this place makes no sense.”

  “I know, just run!” My feet slam the grass. My arms pump against the air. We’re almost there when an icy coldness slithers over my shoulder. I jerk away as a desperate scream breaks free from my throat. We hurtle through the doorway and Dash swings his arm around, slamming the door shut with a burst of magic and bringing us to a skidding halt on a polished wooden floor.

  I spin around, facing the door while backing away from it. My chest heaves as I catch my breath. My heart slams repeatedly against the inside of my ribcage. “Are you okay?” Dash pants. My hand is still clamped tightly around his, and there’s no chance in hell of me letting go right now. He feels like my only anchor in this nightmarish world that could lift me up and whip me away at any moment.

  “I … I think so. Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. “I’m starting to wonder if I’m still unconscious and stuck in a dream.”

  “A nightmare is more like it.” When the door remains firmly closed, I risk moving my eyes away from it. I look up, but there’s nothing above us. At least, if there is a ceiling, it’s so high up I can’t see it. The wooden floor and the wall on either side of the arched door extend forever on both sides. I turn to look behind me—and realize there’s a large opening in the air. “Dash.” I point to the piece of land and the ocean beyond it. “Do you see that?”

  Dash steps around me, not letting go of my hand. He leans forward, staring intently. “That’s … Holy shizmonkey. That’s Velazar Island. The part with the monument. You can see the monument at the bottom edge there. Em, this …” His eyes trace around the whole of the opening. “This is the tear in the veil.”

  It makes no sense to me at all that we’ve ended up here, but if that’s our world on the other side of this hole, then … “Can we get through it?”

  “I hope so.” He pulls me forward. We reach the opening, and when nothing holds us back, we keep going. One foot onto the monument. Then another. I let go of Dash’s hand as he jumps down. I quickly follow him.

  With two feet safely on the ground in a world of genuine color and bright, midday sun, I look out at the ocean. Vast and magnificent. Waves surging forward. More powerful and awe-inspiring than I could have imagined.

  “Okay that makes no sense,” Dash says.

  I look back to see what he’s talking about. On the other side of the gaping hole in the air, instead of an arched door and a polished floor, I see a field and blue sky. “But … that isn’t where we just came from.”

  “No,” Dash murmurs. “We were somewhere else entirely. Somewhere … I don’t know. In between here and there?”

  “Hey! What are you doing here?” A spark of magic whizzes past us. Two guardians come running out from behind the monument. I duck down and twist out of the way as Dash opens a doorway to the faerie paths. I dive into it with him, clearing my mind and trusting him to take us somewhere safe.

  Twenty-Seven

  “Why are we in Chelsea’s backyard?” I ask the moment the darkness clears and I find myself on crunchy, half-dead grass.

  “We need that last box,” Dash says. “The one with the files. We might still find something useful in there. We can take it back to the oasis and then—” he runs a hand through his hair “—then we can try to figure out what the heck we just ran from and where we were.”

  “And what an Unseelie prince and princess have to do with any of it.”

  Dash’s mouth drops open. “Did you say—”

  “I did.”

  “Wow. So that’s why she tried to help you escape from the G
uild. She wanted to take you to the Unseelies. Wait, but why did they let you go so easily now?”

  I sigh. “I’ll explain later.”

  “Hey, there you guys are,” a familiar voice says. Violet walks around the side of the house toward us. “I got here a few minutes ago and found a bit of a mess in the bedroom with all those boxes. I tried to find both of you, and for some reason my Griffin Ability came up with nothing, which was a little alarming. So I’m glad to see you’re safe.”

  “You couldn’t find us?” Dash asks. He looks at me. “We can add that to the list of seriously weird things about that creepy garden.”

  Violet stops in front of us. “What are you talking about? Where were you?”

  “We can explain back at the oasis,” I tell her. “We just want to get one of those boxes from inside and take it with us.”

  “Okay,” she says slowly. Concern tightens her features, but then she breathes in, appearing to shake it off. “Em, look what I’ve got.” She holds up a vial with a cork stopper. “Ana gave it to me this morning. Ready to start testing that Griffin Ability?”

  A flare of excitement lights up inside me. “Yes. Definitely.”

  Dash steps away. “I’ll go get the—” He stops, frowning as he looks around at the fence. Something rustles beyond it, followed by the muted sound of footsteps on grass. “Was someone watching us?” he asks. He walks past me, pulls himself up into the spindly tree in the corner of the garden, and looks over the fence. “Well, if someone was watching us, they’re gone now.”

  “We’re glamoured anyway,” Violet says as Dash jumps down, “so it doesn’t matter.”

  “You guys might be,” I say, “but I’m probably not. I doubt my glamour’s working. I probably look like I’m standing here talking to myself.” Which, I realize, will convince anyone watching me that I’ve finally gone off the deep end just like everyone in Stanmeade thought I would.

  “Let’s get that box,” Violet says. “We can go inside through the paths. I think your aunt is in the kitchen making coffee or tea or something.”

  “Ah, lovely, you’re still here.”

  I whip back around at the sound of the voice. It’s her, the woman in the silver cloak, hurrying out of the faerie paths and into Chelsea’s backyard. The vial of elixir slips from Violet’s fingers as she sweeps her hands up and around. A slight ripple in the air confirms that a shield has formed around us. “Who are you?” she asks. Beside her, Dash reaches into the air. A glittering sword appears in one hand, and a whip in the other.

  The woman lowers her hood, revealing a black mask covering most of her face. All I see are her lips and eyes. “You can call me Ada,” she says. “And then you can hand Em over.”

  “Not happening,” Violet says.

  Then, as if this situation needed an additional complication, the back door swings open and Chelsea comes running out. “Emerson, where the hell have you been?” she shouts. Her narrowed eyes stare only at me, which confirms my suspicion that I’m the only one here without a glamour. Suddenly, as if remembering she’s supposed to be afraid of me now, Chelsea freezes. She takes a few careful steps back. Her eyes dart down to the phone in her hand as she begins tapping the screen. “Just … stay calm, okay? I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Oh, what a waste of time,” Ada says. In a few quick strides, she’s in front of Chelsea. She touches her shoulder—

  “No!” Violet shouts. She drops the shield.

  —and Chelsea becomes a statue of glass. A bow and arrow blaze into existence in Violet’s outstretched arms. Ada raises her leg and kicks Chelsea. Then she twists out of the way, the arrow zooms past her, and Chelsea strikes the ground, shattering into countless glass shards.

  I gasp and push both hands into my hair. “That didn’t just happen,” I whisper.

  The back door bangs again, and this time it’s Georgia running out. “Mom!” she screams.

  “Stop!” Violet yells as Ada turns to Georgia. Violet lunges forward just as Dash’s whip lashes out. The whip encircles Ada’s wrist and Violet leaps onto her back. The two of them tumble to the ground, but it’s too late. Glass rushes up Georgia’s body, solidifying her into a statue almost instantly.

  “Vi, watch out!” Dash yells, running to Violet’s aid. Violet rolls away from Ada and jumps to her feet. Ada swings her leg around, knocking Georgia to the ground. She shatters apart just like her mother.

  I tug at my hair, swearing repeatedly, guilt and terror threatening to consume me, because I know this is all happening because of me. Ada dodges Violet and Dash’s magic and spins around. Her fingertips graze Violet’s arm before flashing out and striking Dash’s hand.

  “No, no, NO!” I yell, but again, it’s too late. Glass consumes them, turning them to motionless, faceted statues. Ada raises her leg. “Stop! Just stop! I’ll do whatever you want!”

  She pauses. Lowers her foot to the ground. “You know it’s too late for them, right? There’s no coming back from this.”

  I drop onto my knees, my shaking legs no longer able to hold me up. “What do you want? My Griffin Ability? That’s fine. I’ll go with you. I—I don’t know how to make it work, but I’ll try. Just please, don’t kill them.”

  She barks out a laugh. “I think they’re dead already, Em.”

  “Tell me what you want from me,” I beg.

  Ada steps away from Violet and Dash, which leaves me almost wilting with relief. It’s hard to kill a faerie, Violet told me. Our magic can help us survive a great many things that would kill a human. I can still see her and Dash. They’re solid glass, but they’re still there. As long as they aren’t shattered into a million pieces, there’s hope for them.

  “You know,” Ada says, facing me with her hands on her hips, “I always wondered if you might have a Griffin Ability hiding within you. And if you did, I wondered if it might ever make itself known, or if it would remain blocked forever, along with the rest of your magic.” She tilts her head to the side, examining me. “You don’t know how to use it though, do you. You would have stopped me already if you did.”

  It takes a few moments for the full meaning of her words to sink in. “You … wait. You know who I am?”

  “I’ve known you almost as long as you’ve been alive, Em. That’s why I was here a few days ago, checking in with someone. The someone who’s been watching you for me. Imagine if I’d come a few hours later,” she adds with a wicked grin. “That someone would have had a far more interesting update for me.”

  This is getting freakier by the second. “Someone’s been—Who? Was it that man you killed? The one I saw you turn to glass?”

  “No, no. That was just someone who followed me here. Someone who thought he could ambush and kill me.” She chuckles. “It didn’t take much effort to get rid of him.”

  I shudder at how easily she speaks about killing people. “Then who? And how do you know me? Who—what am I? And what the hell do you want from me?”

  She gives me a pitying smile as she moves closer. “I know all this attention has probably gone to your head, so it might come as a surprise to hear that I don’t actually want you.”

  “Y-you don’t?”

  “No. At least not yet. I want your mother.”

  Your mother.

  A chill races across my skin. I swallow past the nausea rising up my throat. “Why? That makes no sense.”

  “It doesn’t have to make sense to you, Em. Just tell me where she is.”

  I slowly shake my head. “You can’t have her.”

  Ada crouches down in front of me. “Would you prefer to watch this town become consumed by broken glass? Would you like to watch your friends fracture and shatter and die?”

  “Of course I don’t want that.”

  “Then you simply need to tell me where your mother is. I’m not going to hurt her. Well, perhaps I should rephrase that. I’m not going to kill her. I’m just going to do something a little bit … irreversible.”

  My face is wet with all the tears I do
n’t usually allow to fall. “I can’t.”

  “Yes you can.”

  “I can’t, I can’t,” I wail, covering my face with my hands. “How can you ask me to do this? She’s my mother. I love her more than anything.”

  “Then you have left me no choice.”

  I lower my hands to see her leaning forward. She presses her fingers into the earth. “What are you doing?”

  She doesn’t answer. Where her fingers meet the earth, glass begins spreading slowly outwards. Blades of grass harden, fracture, and break apart. I jump up and back away from the encroaching splinters. Meanwhile, Ada has moved to the side of the house. She flattens her palm against the wall, and glass spreads out around her hand.

  “Wait, please stop. You don’t have to do this.”

  “You’re forcing me to do this, Em. As long as you don’t tell me what I want to know, this magic will keep spreading, and it will fracture everything in its path. This town will soon be nothing but shattered glass.”

  I look desperately around. The glass inches closer to Violet and Dash. If it reaches them, they’ll shatter apart. I won’t get a chance to see if they’re still alive beneath their hardened glass shells. I let out a wordless cry, covering my face again. This all comes down to one impossible choice: who do I save? Mom? Or Violet, Dash and the rest of Stanmeade? “Don’t make me choose,” I moan. I peek through my fingers. The glass shards have almost reached Violet. They’re barely a foot away from the edge of her boot.

  Inching closer.

  And closer.

  “Okay stop! I’ll tell you. She’s at White Cedars. Just make it stop, please!”

  “White Cedars,” Ada repeats. “Thank you, dear Em.” She walks past me to the fence and opens a doorway to the faerie paths.

  “Wait. You need to stop the glass.”

  “To be honest, Em, I’ve never liked this town. I always felt a little sorry for you having to live here.”

  “What? No! Are you seriously going to destroy an entire town and everyone in it?”