Creepy Hollow 7

by Rachel Morgan

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll see how far the magic gets.” She walks into the paths and looks back over her shoulder. “You can run and save yourself, or sit here and let the glass crack you apart like everyone else. It’s your choice. Personally, I’d prefer it if you save yourself. I might one day have a use for you if you get that ability under control.” She laughs. “And how deliciously ironic it would be if you were the one who helped me see the revenge plan through.”

  With a burst of anger, I launch myself after her. If I can get into the paths—if I can get to Mom before Ada does—

  But the darkness closes up. The fence reappears, and I crash into it. Pain flares through my shoulder, my arm, and I slide down to the ground, groaning out loud. I clutch my shoulder while thoughts of how utterly useless I am beat against the inside of my head. I possess a power that people would kill to get their hands on, but I can’t—

  The vial.

  The elixir that will stimulate my Griffin Ability.

  I jump up, leap across the patches of glass, and search for the vial Violet dropped. It must be on the grass somewhere. And once I’ve taken this elixir, my ability will stay on, right? Then I can yell out more than one command.

  The creaking, screeching sound of the house beginning to fall apart startles me. I look across at Violet. The glass has almost reached her boot. “No,” I whisper. My eyes return to their desperate search of the ground as my brain plays through all the things I need to shout out.

  Daniela Clarke, you are invisible. No one can find you or hurt you or kill you.

  Glass, reverse your magic. Stop moving, stop shattering, stop killing.

  Violet and Dash, you are not made of glass. Return to your original forms.

  Finally, I spot the vial. It’s near the base of the tree Dash climbed, pieces of glass just about touching it. I jump over more glass, race toward it, drop down, reach for it—but Ada’s magic has touched it. Shards stab into it, splintering and crushing it, and I dare not touch it for fear that her magic will spread into me.

  The elixir is gone.

  A great sob rips through my chest. I stand and step back, watching the unstoppable glass magic. It’s reached Violet’s boot now, splintering along the front edge. I can’t save her, and I can’t save Mom. As more tears course down my cheeks, I squeeze my eyes shut. I open my mouth and pour all the pain from the last five years into one aching scream. I scream until I can’t breathe anymore.

  And then—hope.

  I sense that shiver, that brief pulse of power rushing through me, and I have a split second to decide: save Mom—or save everyone here. My words come tumbling out in a desperate rush. “Glass magic, you have no power! Reverse, vanish, return everything and everyone to the way they were before and restore all—” The deep reverberation in my voice is gone by the time I reach the word ‘restore,’ but I think I uttered enough of the command.

  I look around, holding my breath, waiting for my power to take effect.

  The glass stops moving. Slowly, it sinks into the ground, leaving the lawn as it was before. Pieces of Chelsea and Georgia rush back together and, as utterly impossible as it seems, my aunt and cousin begin moving, groaning, sitting up. The broken side of the house pieces itself back together like a demolition scene in reverse. And Violet and Dash—

  They gasp for air, sucking in great deep breaths of it as the glass vanishes from around their bodies. “Oh thank goodness.” I rush across the yard toward them.

  “What just—”

  “Take me to White Cedars! Please, it’s urgent. Ada went there to get Mom.”

  Violet turns swiftly to the wall and writes against it. “Dash, get back to the oasis. Tell Ryn and Chase what’s happened. I’ll take Em.” I grasp her hand and rush into the darkness with her.

  We’re still running when we come out the other side on the lawn in front of White Cedars Healing Institute.

  “I know where her room is,” I say as we race past the reception area, healers shouting after us. Along the corridor, turn, another corridor. I run into her room, past a pile of glass on the floor, and tug the curtain back. “She’s still here,” I say, relief flooding my body. “She’s here, but …” I look at the floor, at the sharp glass pieces. “But Ada was here too. Mom?” I turn back to her and shake her arm. “Mom, wake up.” But she doesn’t stir, and I can’t help hearing Ada’s voice in my head: I’m just going to do something a little bit … irreversible.

  Healers rush in then, and we’re forced to wait outside. They confirm that Mom’s still alive, but that’s all they say before they shut Mom’s door and one of them leads us back to the waiting area. Last night, I found the gentle lighting, soft chairs and herbal scents comforting, but none of it helps today. Nothing can comfort me when I’m convinced there’s something terribly wrong with Mom.

  “Tell me what happened after Dash and I were turned to glass,” Violet says gently. Her words remind me abruptly that just minutes ago she was essentially dead. She was a non-moving, non-breathing statue, all because she got involved with me and my mother. But instead of freaking out about it, she’s now comforting me.

  I push my guilt down and tell her everything. The glass spreading everywhere, the vial of elixir breaking, Ada forcing me to choose between Mom and everyone else. “I failed,” I whisper to her when I’m done.

  She wraps both arms around me and hugs me tightly, which only intensifies my guilt. “You saved a whole town full of people, Em.” She pulls back and looks intently at me. “Your cousin and aunt should be—were—dead. Your magic saved them. That isn’t a failure. That’s …”

  A scary kind of power, I think to myself. Out loud, I say, “But I failed my mother.”

  Violet, of course, tries to convince me otherwise, but I know the truth. I gave my own mother up to a magical being who wanted to hurt her in some way. After all my promises that I’d make a better life for the two of us. And that means I failed her.

  Finally, one of the healers returns to the waiting area. “Is she alive?” I ask, immediately jumping to my feet.

  “Yes.” The healer, a petite woman with a long braid hanging over one shoulder, gestures for me to sit. “But she appears to be in a deep state of unconsciousness.”

  “How? Why? What happened to her?”

  “We’re not certain. The healer who was in the room at the time was attacked and …” She takes a deep breath. “Well, we’ve all read about the glass faerie in the news. And you saw what was on the floor.”

  I nod, realizing that this woman obviously knew the healer Ada killed. “I know. I’m sorry. But isn’t there any way you can figure out what happened to her? What would put her into a coma so quickly?”

  “There are several possibilities. We’ve tested for all of them and have ruled them all out.”

  “Okay, so?” I prompt. “Now what?”

  “Well …” The healer looks from me to Violet and back again. “Since there isn’t anything else we can do for her at the moment, we’d like to suggest that she might be more comfortable—and safer—if she stayed at home. If she ever wakes up, you can bring her back.”

  “If she ever wakes up? Did you just say if?”

  “Thank you,” Violet rushes to say before the healer can respond. “That sounds like a good idea. I think it would be safer for her to stay with us than to remain here.”

  The healer nods and stands. “I’ll organize the paperwork.”

  Once she’s left the room, Violet says, “Em, we will fix this. You can try using your Griffin Ability and tell her to wake up. If that doesn’t work, we’ll find something else. I don’t know how, but we will. We’ll do all the research we can, and when we eventually discover the spell that put her into a coma, we’ll be able to get her out of it.”

  “And if her mind is still sick when she wakes up?”

  “Then we’ll figure that out too.” Her fingers wrap around my hand and squeeze it. She smiles. “Everything will be okay in the end.”

  I manage to
return the smile, because I’ve realized there is another way for Mom to be okay in the end. A backup plan. A plan Violet would never approve of …

  Twenty-Eight

  Several hours later, I finish tucking Mom into bed in a room of her own at the oasis. I smooth her dark hair back off her forehead, then sit in the chair beside the bed for a while, thinking of all the questions I haven’t been able to ask her yet. And all the new questions that have been added to my mental list since this morning. Who is Ada, and how does she know Mom? Why did she want to put Mom into a permanent coma?

  Something a little bit … irreversible.

  I push the memory of Ada’s words away. I don’t want to accept that Mom will never wake up, but it’s hard to ignore the facts: Ana prepared more elixir for me this afternoon, and it stimulated my Griffin Ability long enough to tell Mom to wake up—but she didn’t respond. It seems that my magical, resonating voice, which had the power to piece two people back together and bring them to life today, somehow cannot wake my mother.

  Something a little bit … irreversible.

  If the healers don’t know what kind of magic has put Mom into a permanent sleep, then it must be something completely different. Something more sinister. Something that those who ignore laws and play around with dark magic might know about.

  And that’s where the backup plan comes in.

  I stand and walk to the box in the corner of the room. The box Dash went back for while I was at the healing institute with Mom. I was hopeful it might still contain something useful, but a quick look earlier through the remaining files revealed nothing.

  I open the box, push my hand down past the files, and feel for the pink crystal flower I dropped in here. After finding it, I cross the room and leave it on the bedside table. It’s so small it looks ridiculous sitting there on its own, but I know Mom would like the fact that it’s there.

  After watching her a little while longer, I kiss her cheek and leave the room, closing the door gently behind me.

  “Come see, come see!” Jack grabs my hand as I head downstairs. “Merrick and Junie added more stuff inside the dome while you were gone.” He tugs me all the way down to the bottom of the tree.

  “Ah, there she is,” Dash says as I step onto the grass. “How are you doing?”

  I shrug. “Okay, I guess. You?”

  “Feeling better now that I’m no longer a glass statue.”

  “You know,” I say to him, “glass statues are far quieter and less annoying than certain people.”

  “Ah, come on, you would have missed me if I hadn’t made it.”

  I allow myself a smile. “Maybe.”

  “Well, anyway, I think you’re going to like the latest addition to the oasis.”

  “Don’t tell her!” Jack says. “She has to see first otherwise it ruins the surprise.”

  The three of us walk together, the conversation remaining light as Jack tells us what he’s currently learning at school. I notice Dash sneaking the occasional glance my way, probably trying to figure out if I really am okay.

  “Okay, wait,” Jack says. “Stop here.” We’re almost past the orchard, which is illuminated this evening with tiny golden glow-bugs and pink-orange light. “We should blindfold her.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Did you blindfold everyone who’s come to see this new addition?”

  “Yes. Okay, not everyone,” Jack admits. “But some people.”

  “How about if I just close my eyes?”

  Jack tilts his head to the side. “Will you promise not to open them?”

  “Yes. But you have to promise not to let me trip over anything.”

  “Yes, of course.” He loops his arm through mine, and I close my eyes.

  “No peeking,” Dash says.

  After another minute or so of walking, Jack brings me to a halt. I can smell and hear something that makes me suspicious, but I can’t possibly be right. “Okay, you ready?” Jack says. “Open your eyes.”

  So I do. Goosebumps race across my skin at the sight of the pale stretch of sand and the gentle sunset-colored waves tumbling onto it.

  “Isn’t it awesome?” Jack says. “We have a beach!”

  I blink against the sheen of moisture forming over my eyes. “It’s amazing.” He takes off across the sand, leaps into the shallow waves, and kicks water into the air.

  Dash pushes his hands into his pockets. “Merrick was talking a few days ago about what to add next, and I remembered you looking out the window at the halfway house and asking about the ocean. So I told him it would be cool to have a beach and a little piece of the ocean here.”

  I bite my lip to get my silly emotions under control, then say, “Today was the first time I saw it in real life. On the island. And that was only for a moment, so it’s amazing to have it right here.”

  “Oh. Really?” Dash faces me. “So that’s why you were asking about it that day. We should go see the real thing then. I can take you right now, if you want. Just gotta make sure we aren’t ambushed by anyone else who wants to get their evil talons into you.”

  “No,” I say with a smile. “This is perfect for now.”

  “Hey,” a voice calls behind us. Ryn walks onto the sand, followed by Violet and a floating basket. “What do you think of our little bit of the sea?”

  “I love it,” I tell him.

  “We thought we’d have a beach picnic for dinner,” Violet says, gesturing to the floating basket. It lands neatly on the sand, and the folded blanket on top rises and spreads itself out beside the basket. We sit while Violet unpacks the food and Jack continues jumping and splashing in the water. Calla and Chase join us a few minutes later, spreading their own blanket next to ours.

  We eat our picnic dinner as the sun slowly disappears. At some point, Bandit and Filigree crawl out of the picnic basket in mouse form and wait patiently for some food. Well, Filigree waits patiently; Bandit does a lot of jumping around in between his waiting.

  When it’s almost too dark to see, floating lanterns appear all the way along the beach. Though I notice each of the adults watching me at some point throughout the evening, no one asks any questions about earlier or proposes any wild theories about Mom or the mysterious glass faerie Ada. It’s as if there’s an unspoken agreement that tonight isn’t for rehashing the day’s events. Tonight is for enjoying the beach, appreciating delicious fruits and snacks I’ve never tasted before, chasing Jack along the sand, and coming up with ideas for what to add next to the oasis.

  I soak it all in, knowing this evening is both a first and a last for me.

  “Em!” Jack drops down beside me some time after our meal. “Did I tell you about the new dance we learned this morning?”

  “Um, I think you told me about everything else you learned today. I’m not sure you mentioned a dance. Do you have regular dance classes here?”

  “We all learn the traditional faerie dances when we’re in junior school,” Dash explains. “Vi and Ryn didn’t want the kids who live here to miss out, so dancing is included in the lessons.”

  “Can I teach you?” Jack asks me. “Then you can practice with me.”

  “Oh. Um, okay.” Dancing isn’t my thing, but I suppose I’ll give it a go if it’ll make Jack happy. I walk with him a few paces away from the blankets, then face him and take hold of his hands.

  “Okay, so you step forward like this. Yes, with that foot first. And then you step back. And our hands come together like this.”

  “Okay.”

  “So we repeat that four times, and then we turn around each other like this.”

  Somewhere behind me, music begins playing. Curious to know where it’s coming from, I look over my shoulder and see Ryn urging a glass ball into the air. Colorful lights inside the ball flicker in time to the music, which tells me that’s where the music must be coming from. “Amazing,” I murmur. “What is that?”

  “Em, you’re not concentrating,” Jack complains.

  “Right, sorry.”

  He demon
strates the next move for me, but I’m finding it hard to keep up. “You know, I hate to say it, Jack, but I think the kind of dancing we do in the human world—where we just sway from side to side—is a whole lot easier. See, you put your arms around my waist—” I move his arms into place “—and I put my arms around your shoulders, and we sway.”

  “That’s super boring. And you’re too tall.”

  “True, but I’m too tall for your dance too.”

  “You just need a taller partner,” Dash says, moving to my side and holding his hand out toward me.

  “Oh. No. Thank you. I’m not really into dancing. And … um … I was going to go to bed now anyway.”

  “So early?” he says. “Come on, just until the end of the song. We can do your boring swaying thing.” He gives me his charming smile, and I see a hint of the Dash all those girls fall over themselves for.

  “Fine. Just don’t stand on my toes.”

  “With boring swaying, my dear Emerson, I doubt that will be a problem.”

  I put my hands around his neck. His arms slide around my waist and pull me closer. I rest my chin on his shoulder, which feels a bit strange, but also kinda nice. We step slowly from side to side, a little more than just a swaying motion, but way simpler than whatever Jack was trying to teach me.

  “Em,” Dash says quietly. “Emmy. I’m really sorry. About your mom. But at least she’s here now. And we’ll find a way to heal her. We will. I’ve been looking out for you ever since I screwed up all those years ago, and I won’t stop now. Whatever I can do to help, I’ll do it. She’ll get better, and you can both stay here, and the two of you will finally have the life you’ve always promised her.”

  My eyes travel across the scene, and my heart breaks as I realize that everything I’ve ever wanted is right here—and that I will never have it. Tears prick my eyes, my throat aches, and suddenly I can’t speak. I bite my lip, harder and harder until the tears recede and I can breathe again.

  When the song is over, I don’t leave immediately. I sit with everyone for a while longer. I laugh at Dash’s terrible jokes and smile at Jack’s antics. Then I head back to the giant trees along with everyone else. I cheerfully say goodnight and climb up to my room as if nothing is different. As if my chest isn’t aching. As if I haven’t just said goodbye.