A Faerie's Curse (Creepy Hollow #6)

by Rachel Morgan

  Chase hesitates for a second, then nods. “True.”

  As the rest of the team grudgingly agrees to the change in plan and moves forward through the enormous faerie paths doorway, Chase opens a second doorway beside it. He takes my hand, and together we hurry into the darkness. Early morning light slants across the lake house living room as we walk to the faerie door. I retrieve my key from one of my hidden pockets and push it into the lock.

  “Calla.”

  I freeze at the sound of that familiar voice. The voice I haven’t heard since … since before she began screaming that terrible night. I twist around and see her moving out of the shadows. “Vi.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-NINE

  I want to run to her and throw my arms around her. I want to tell her how sorry I am. I want to hear her cry or shout or wail. Anything but the cold, dead expression in her eyes as she watches at me. “I didn’t want to have to involve you,” she says, “but I’m getting nowhere on my own. This man who was once your friend. This man who … who killed Victoria. Do you have anything that belonged to him?”

  Something that belonged to him? “You mean … you’re trying to find him?”

  “Of course I’m trying to find him,” she says, her voice still deathly quiet. “He murdered my child. Do you expect me to let him get away with that?”

  My head spins at the reversal of roles. How do I talk her out of this when part of me still wants to go after Zed myself? Should I talk her out of it? Yes. I should. If I’ve learned anything from Chase, it’s that revenge helps no one. “I don’t expect you to let him get away with it. I want him to pay. I tried to find him too, but someone talked me out of it.” As gently as possible, I say, “This isn’t going to change what happened. It won’t—”

  “DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING OF HIS?” she shouts, her carefully controlled emotion erupting without warning.

  I take an involuntary step backward. “I—no. I don’t.”

  “Don’t you dare lie to me. You have almost as much to make up for as he has.”

  There it is. The horrible truth I keep wanting to flee. The horrible truth I have to deal with if I hope to have any chance of moving on. “I know. I know! And I am so, so sorry. From the very depths of my heart, I am sorry. So take your hurt out on me. I’m right here!”

  “I don’t want to take it out on you! You didn’t know what would happen, but he did!”

  I’m about to respond, but Chase takes my arm and gently pulls me back. He steps between the two of us. “Don’t do this,” he says to Vi. “It will consume you. It will destroy you.”

  “That was my CHILD! I can’t just let this go!”

  He grasps her shoulders. “You have to. You have to be stronger than I was. Please, please be stronger than I was. Fight for everything you still have and not for what you’ve lost.”

  With a furious cry, she wrenches her arms from his grip and storms away to the far side of the room. “Violet, please,” he calls after her, but she’s already opening a faerie paths doorway. “Please, just—” But she’s gone, the edges of her doorway sealing up, leaving us standing in silence.

  I press my hands over my eyes as the overwhelming urge to fall apart hits me. The fresh reminder that I’m responsible for so much pain is almost too much to bear. And I’m so tired. So, so tired. I want to curl into a ball on the floor and never get up. But Amon—the full moon—the spell—

  I pull my hands away from my face and grip Chase’s arm as urgency fills me. “No time. There’s no time for this. We have to move.”

  My words snap him free of whatever memory he was lost in. “Yes. Go.” He yanks the faerie door open and we run through the void to the door in the mountain’s hallway. I rush to the stairs, but, looking back, I find that he’s paused by the faerie door. “There were times I wondered if I’d ever see this place again,” he murmurs. Then he shakes his head and crosses the hallway. “Message your brother. Then come to the gargoyle cave. Be quick.”

  The first thing I do upon entering my bedroom is run for the bottle beside my bed. Not much brownish liquid remains. I pour a spoonful into a glass of water and gulp the mixture down. Then I decant the rest of the undiluted tonic into the smaller bottle that fits into my pocket. I hate that I’ve kept the truth from Chase about this curse, but I don’t regret it. Not if my Griffin Ability can still make a difference in some way. I know Chase is far more powerful than the rest of us, but he may have met his match with a pair of witches who can consume the energy of so many magical beings. In the end, a simple illusion could be the only thing that stops them—especially if they know how much the curse has already drained me and aren’t expecting me to use my ability.

  I grab the old piece of amber and place my stylus against its surface, hoping Ryn’s mother gave the corresponding amber back to him after she passed on the message about Victoria’s ceremony. I scribble a message to Ryn, my handwriting barely legible in my haste.

  Veil spell. Tonight. Velazar Prison. We’ll stop Amon, and I SWEAR I will not let the witches get away.

  And then, though it terrifies me to think of the curse finally catching up to me, I add, I love you. Just in case everything goes wrong tonight and I never get to say it again. Then I toss the amber onto the bed and run for the door.

  A loud chirp behind me makes me swing around in the doorway. Owl-formed Filigree launches himself off the top of my wardrobe and shifts into cat form before landing on the floor and running to me. “Filigree, I’m so sorry,” I say as he paws at my leg. “I know I haven’t been around.” I crouch down and let him climb into my arms. He nuzzles against my neck. “You must be missing Vi. And Ryn. And I—I can’t take you back to them now. I can’t take you with me either. It’s way too dangerous. You have to wait here a little longer.” His claws press into my arm. “I know. You’re not happy about that, but I seriously do not have time to argue right now. Please, please just stay here. I—I promise I’ll come back.” I stand and back out of the room, guilt welling up in my chest as Filigree sits and watches me with his mournful cat eyes.

  In the corridor, I turn around and run. To the end and down the stairs to the entrance hall. Then down again. Running, running, running until eventually my feet hit the bottom level—the level with the gargoyle cave. The narrow gap in the corner is dark and silent and ominous, but I have no time for fear. Less than no time. So I don’t work myself up to it. I don’t think of my lake, and I don’t calm my thoughts. Instead, I aim straight for the source of my terror and run, letting my fear push me faster. I race blindly through the darkness, my hands skimming across the walls on either side and my breaths tearing their way in and out of my chest.

  I skid to a halt just inside the cave and bend over, my hands on my knees. “Okay,” I gasp. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.” Straightening, I look around. Last time, the creatures filling this cavernous space wandered freely and randomly. Now, dozens of gargoyles are gathered in a group in the distance near the crumbling wall of towers and turrets. I see Chase amongst them, so I take off in that direction, swatting at a cloud of tiny bugs I happen to run through.

  At the sound of a ferocious roar behind me, I almost trip over my feet and wind up on the ground. I twist around as I stumble to a stop—and find myself facing a dragon. Crap. I’m not certain, but given the green and purple scales, I think it may be the dragon that chased me out of here last time. I back away as it approaches me with slow, earth-shuddering steps.

  A piercing whistle tears the dragon’s gaze away from me. “Hey! Samson!” Chase shouts. “Back off, man, she’s with us.”

  A low growl ripples through the air before Samson lowers himself to the cave floor and lies there watching me. Wishing I didn’t have to turn my back on him, I swing around and run the rest of the way toward Chase, throwing a number of glances over my shoulder to make sure Samson isn’t coming after me. I catch Chase’s arm as I come to a stop, breathing heavily and reminding myself that I don’t have to be afraid of the horns, fangs and snar
ling expressions surrounding me. “I pity any intruder who finds his or her way into this cave.”

  Chase grins as he loops a rope around the nearest gargoyle’s arm. “Samson does make an excellent guard dog. As do most of the other creatures down here.”

  “Do they all listen to you?”

  “Mostly. The nascryls—” he looks up at the creatures with black leathery wings and oddly charred-looking clawed feet clinging to the cave ceiling “—often require a little magical reminder of who’s actually in charge down here. There are only about four or five of them, and they’re pretty wild. Found their own way in here one day and decided to stay.”

  “Are they all—” I pull my head back as several moths flutter past my face and up toward the ceiling. Clearly large creatures aren’t the only creepy things that live down here. “Uh, are they all coming with us?”

  “Only the gargoyles. It’s more difficult to get the dragons through the faerie paths if they don’t each have a rider, and the nascryls definitely aren’t team players. The gargoyles, though …” He pats the gargoyle’s shoulder before moving to the next one with the same rope. “They let me lead them.”

  “Why? How did they all end up here?”

  “They were treated terribly at the Unseelie Court. Gaius, Kobe and I freed them all in one of our first missions together. I thought the gargoyles would make their own way in the world, but instead they followed me. We had to make a plan for them after that. Gaius already had two dragons down here, so we enlarged the cave, created a few different environments, and let everyone loose.”

  “And they all play nicely together?”

  “For the most part. The other end of the cave—around that corner there; you can’t see it from here—is open to the outside. They come and go as they please, hunting out there in the wild somewhere.” He steps back from securing the end of the rope around the last gargoyle’s arm. “Okay, we’re ready. Let’s get moving. You’re riding one gargoyle, I’m riding another, and the rest are attached behind us so we can all make it through the paths together.”

  “Uh, okay.” Pushing aside the unpleasant memory of the gargoyle ride that took place a few days after I met Chase, I follow him to the front of the group. I want to cringe away from the wrinkled leathery hide, but there’s no time for freaking out about anything, so I climb awkwardly onto the back of the gargoyle that crouches down for me. At least there’s a harness, unlike the last time I clung to a gargoyle. Chase wraps part of the harness around my back and secures it. As he steps away, my gargoyle rears up, causing me to let out a startled yelp. But the harness holds me in place. Chase climbs onto the gargoyle beside mine. I lean over to help him with his harness, but he’s already secured it. “Time to move!” he shouts out.

  My gargoyle drops down onto all fours. He rushes forward with the others while I bounce up and down in the harness. Then with a leap, he rises awkwardly and jerkily into the air, his wings creating an unpleasant smelling wind around me. We follow the cave around the corner and then shoot out into the fresh air above the lake. The lake I remember flying over the very first time Chase brought me to the mountain.

  With sections of rope tugging between each gargoyle, our flight to the ground on the other side of the lake is bumpy and unpleasant. The moment we land, Chase climbs free of his harness and jumps down. He opens a doorway to the faerie paths, pulling it wider and wider. After returning to his gargoyle and climbing onto its back once more, he points and shouts, “Forward!”

  And together, we move into the darkness.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY

  The darkness of the faerie paths dissipates around us to reveal a cliff overlooking a rough sea. “Remove the ropes!” Chase shouts. I twist around and see every one of the gargoyles slashing at the ropes Chase tied around their arms. “And into the air!” he yells. The gargoyles begin running. Wings flap way too close to my body as the cliff edge races to meet us. And then, just as we’re about to tumble over it, my gargoyle leaps, and then we’re rising, rising, into the air.

  As we gain height, I release my breath, and look past the flapping wings and out at the ocean. My hope almost shrivels into nothing when I notice the position of the sun on the horizon. “It’s almost sunset,” I shout to Chase, though I’m certain he’s already noticed this. “I didn’t realize it was so much later here.”

  “Yeah,” he shouts back to me. “Which is why Angelica told us we’d be too late to stop Amon.”

  “Was she right?”

  “No. She underestimated our speed.” He urges his gargoyle to fly faster and yells, “FORWAAAAARD!”

  My gargoyle’s wings beat harder, and icy air bites into my skin. The sky grows darker as clouds gather above us. Over the sound of wings and wind, a rumble reaches my ears. I look up in time to see light zigzag across the growing cloud mass. Spots of rain wet my face. I lower my head and hunch my shoulders, looking down to where the growing gale whips the waves into white peaks far below us. I don’t have to ask Chase if he’s the one doing this. I already know the storm is his. I face forward again with a small smile on my lips. I defy even the strongest of fae to look up at us—an army of gruesome creatures propelled forth by typhoon winds amidst lightning, sea spray and thunderous dark clouds—and not be afraid.

  It might all be for nothing if we’re too late, though. Velazar Prison is built upon a floating island that moves around and is never in exactly the same place, so I’m concerned about how long it might take us to get there. But we haven’t been flying long when a dark shape begins to take form on the horizon up ahead. With an enchanted wind at our backs, we race across the sky toward Velazar Island.

  The dark shape grows larger. Larger and larger, until eventually it isn’t just a shape, but a massive piece of earth floating some distance above the waves. Tiny dots in the water below turn out to be boats, and the grey squares squished together on top of the island take form as Velazar Prison itself. Nervous anticipation races through me as we come close enough to see smoke rising from the building and tiny figures moving back and forth outside amidst bright weapons and flashes of magic. As we fly overhead, I capture a mental picture of the scene so I can orient myself once we’ve landed: the prison taking up most of the lower left side of the island; a small silvery dome-like layer near the top right; a monument within it, pointing straight toward the stormy sky. Further right, separating the silver dome from the right hand edge of the island, is a grove of trees. And there, top left of my mental map, is the tower. The tower where hundreds of people hopefully haven’t yet been killed.

  Seeing all the elements of the spell together in one place, the reality hits me: this could actually happen. We could fail, and our enemies could rip through to a world that should forever remain separate from ours.

  As we circle over the island, I’m able to make out what’s happening in more detail. The dome-shield protects the trident statue and several figures who look like Angelica, Amon, and the witches. Beyond that, in a roughly semi-circular formation, hundreds of figures in prison overalls fight the glittering weapons of black-clad guardians. What I didn’t expect, though, is to see prisoners fighting with magic—which means someone removed the magic-blocking bands they would have been wearing when they were freed. I’m not certain, but I think I see some of our teammates amidst the action. I almost call out to them but then remember the communication spell has faded. I definitely make out two or three gargoyles, and Gaius’s dragon is breathing streams of fire straight at the dome-shield.

  Chase pulls his gargoyle alongside mine. “Do you see any of the prison guards?”

  That’s what’s missing from the scene: figures in prison guard uniforms. The guardian who informed Councilor Bouchard of the explosion mentioned that most of the guards had disappeared. But where would they have—

  “The tower,” I shout. That must be where they are. People need to die in order for this spell to work, and Amon would far rather kill the guards than his fellow prisoners. And with prisoners far ou
tnumbering guards, it probably wasn’t that hard to overpower them and get them all into that tower.

  Chase signals his gargoyle army to join the fight. They swoop down together in one movement, both thrilling and terrifying to watch. “Head for the tower,” he shouts to me—or, more likely, to my gargoyle, since I have no idea how to direct it. Both our gargoyles tuck their wings back and dive toward the ground beside the tower. We land clumsily, but our harnesses keep us from falling off. I remove mine and jump off the gargoyle’s back. Not too far away, the battle of prisoners, guardians, gargoyles and the rest of our teammates rages on.

  “How do we get in?” I ask, rushing to the side of the tower and running my hand along the bricks as I walk around the outside. I think of what I saw in the vision—an empty interior, hundreds of writhing bodies at the bottom, and a great round boulder falling and crushing them all. “What is this even used for? Why would an empty tower be standing here?”

  “I don’t think it was empty,” Chase says as he joins my search around the outer wall of the tower. “It was a look-out tower. It probably wouldn’t have taken too complex an architectural spell to remove the stairs spiraling from the bottom to the top.”

  “Ah, here’s a door.” I try the handle, but it’s locked, of course. “I can’t hear any sound from within. Maybe none of the guards or prisoners have been brought here yet.”

  Chase tries to ram the door open with force. When that doesn’t work, he uses magical strength and unlocking spells, but still the door won’t budge.

  “Chase,” I say quietly, nausea coalescing in the pit of my stomach. “Look at the bottom of the door. That’s … that’s blood seeping out.”