Magic Harvest

by Karlik, Mary

  “What does that mean?” Theo’s voice had a high-pitched squeak to it.

  Shrouded in complete blackness, Layla held her breath and listened. The only sound she heard was the halting breaths of her companions.

  Then a low, hollow moan sounded from deep within the tunnel. But it was moving toward them. Fast. Layla snapped her wings closed and yelled, “Brace yourselves.”

  A rush of wind choked her words as it whipped around her. A gust caught her beneath her wings and tossed her in the air. Her right shoulder hit solid stone, but whether it was ceiling, floor, or wall, she couldn’t tell. Then she collided with something slightly less solid and heard an oomph as she slammed into one of the men.

  The sound of bodies crashing with other things echoed around her as she searched her mind for a way to quiet the rage in the tunnel. But it seemed whenever she’d grab a thought, the turbulence would toss her against the stone, knocking the answer away from her.

  If she could just freeze long enough to think. Freeze. That was it. “Reòth!”

  The wind stopped. She was suspended in the air, unable to move a muscle. The men were surely frozen in whatever position the wind had twisted them into as well. But at least they weren’t being tossed around like feathers in a storm.

  If they were to survive, she had to figure out how to free them from the wind. If she threw a spell to scatter it, the wind would calm. But the team would probably scatter too, and in total darkness that wasn’t an option. If she pushed it up the tunnel, they’d encounter it on their return, and pushing it down the tunnel was just stupid. Redirection seemed to be the key.

  It was the turbulence in the storm that made passage impossible. What if she could control the direction of the currents? Would they be able to ride them to the warehouse? No. Careening through the twisting path at gale force speed would not end well. She needed to separate the wind from them.

  In her mind’s eye, she imagined the length of the passageway sliced in half lengthwise. Once the image was solid in her brain, she focused on pushing the wind into the upper chamber of the tunnel. There was no physical movement because the environment was in stasis from her spell. She’d have to release the spell in order to force the air to the top and there was no guarantee it would work. The whirlwind could have gained strength while frozen.

  Anxiety rose in her chest and if it could have squeezed her lungs, she was sure it would have. Unfortunately, the cràdh wasn’t frozen and reminded her that most of her spells took a couple of tries before she succeeded. If this one didn’t work on the first try, the results could be catastrophic. It would have been nice to be able to heave a deep, calming, cràdh-slamming breath. But her chest wasn’t moving any more than the rest of her.

  Instead, she held her breath, reversed the freeze spell, and pushed the air to the upper portion of the passage. Grunts sounded around her as bodies slammed onto the ground. But at least they were out of the wind.

  As Layla hit the ground she shouted into the darkness, “Stay low. The wind is streaming just above us.”

  Ian called to the group, “Are we all here?”

  Everyone answered in various forms of grunts and moans.

  “That wind was brutal and I’m thankful for your magic.” Buzzard’s voice came from Layla’s right.

  “Thank you, Buzzard. That means a lot.”

  “But you could have released us a wee bit faster. I thought you were going to leave us hanging for eternity.”

  “Aye. That’s the Buzzard I know. Never let a compliment slip your lips.” It was probably the closest the man would ever come to saying something nice to her.

  “If you two are done fashing, I’d like to know our next move.” Jack’s voice came from somewhere behind Layla. “I’m not keen on being stuck in the tunnel with no way to create light.”

  “We can’t stay here. We have to keep moving,” Theo added.

  Layla was about to roll on to her stomach and suggest the wall trick when a red glow blinked at her waist. “Did anybody see that?” Before anybody answered, it happened again. “Just there. A red glow.”

  “Maybe it’s something you can see that we can’t,” offered Jack.

  “I saw it.” Buzzard almost shouted in her ear. “There—it did it again.”

  “I saw that time. What is it?” Ian’s voice was the farthest from the group.

  Layla reached toward where she’d seen the light. It flashed again and she tried to grab it. She didn’t catch the light, but she did find the hilt of her sword. “It’s Tormed.” She let out a nervous laugh. “It’s the dragon stone in the hilt of my sword. I’ve seen it brighten when the sun hits it, but nothing like this.” She pulled the sword from the scabbard. Not sure how high above her the wind stream was, she held the sword parallel to her body and poured magical energy into the stone.

  The stone flickered, then brightened until the passage was bathed in a red glow. “And we have light.”

  She tipped the light up and illuminated the wind above them. It flowed and swirled as though they were beneath the rapids in a river.

  Ian dropped his body flat on the ground. “Mind you stay flat. We don’t have much space. We’ll have to move like snipers down the tunnel.”

  Layla fey-sized and bathed the team with the beam. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I want to risk freeing the wind by trying to widen the space.”

  Jack tilted his head to Layla. “I’d just as soon crawl on my belly than get my head knocked off by that cyclone.”

  Ian called to the group, “Speaking of which, is anybody hurt?”

  Layla flashed the beam on each of the lads. Theo had a cut on his lip and his eye appeared to be swelling. The rest of the group seemed to have escaped harm to their heads, but they were all disheveled.

  Ian crawled close to her. “And you, Layla? Any injuries?”

  “No. Just bruises, like the rest of you.”

  He nodded and then said to Theo, “Do you know where we are?”

  Theo scanned the passage. “Aye. We’re not far off course. If anything, we were pushed closer to the cavern.”

  “Good. Then lead on. Remember to keep low.” He motioned for Layla to move ahead. “Stay with Theo. He needs the light the most.”

  “Aye.” She flew just in front of Theo.

  Progression down the path was tedious for the humans and several times they had to rest. Fortunately, the wind stream ended at the point of the low ceilings. The men still had to stoop, but they seemed to tolerate it better than crawling.

  When they reached the hard right turn, Layla stopped. “Wait here.” She flew around the corner and shot an anti-glamour spell at the structure, then flew reconnaissance to make sure there weren’t wards on the outside before returning to the men. “All clear.”

  The team ran to the building and followed Layla inside. They ducked and jumped on cue as the fireball roared toward them, hit the wall, and splashed along the floor before disappearing.

  Theo turned to Layla. “That was easier than I expected from your instructions.”

  She human-sized and smiled. “Good. Let’s hope that’s the worse we face.” Butterflies danced in her belly as she revealed the fairy cages. They’d managed to thwart the ward in the tunnel and to avoid the fireball, but all would be for naught if they were wrong about the magic in the cage.

  Jack knelt next to the first cage and opened a mesh bag.

  This was the unknown part of the plan. She held her breath and would have laid a wager everyone else did too. If the magic took hold of him, they’d have a huge problem on their hands—a fifteen-stone problem.

  Wiggling his fingers as if he were loosening them up, Jack took a deep breath, and thrust his hand into the cage. It slipped in as if the bars didn’t exist. Carefully, he lifted a Sunflower fairy and placed her in the bag.

  Buzzard blew out a sigh of relief. “A cage that is not a cage. Horrible but clever.”

  Theo opened a sack and started on the next cage. In minutes they’d emptied all five cag
es into two bags.

  Five cages. Uneasiness rose in her. There had been six before.

  How many fey had been sent to the shop—or worse, sold? She pushed the feeling away with a flutter of wings and focused on the positive. Five cages were better than four.

  When they finished, Ian said, “Good work, lads. Get them to the van. We shouldn’t be far behind you.”

  As soon as Theo and Jack left, Layla turned to Ian. “Now to the globes.” Her chest lightened as the cràdh slinked into hiding. There were a lot of fairies left to save, but she couldn’t suppress her smile. Things were going according to plan. They’d saved loads of fairies.

  Layla readied her bow as they made their way down the stairs to the storeroom. Leading the group, she edged along the aisle of empty globes, stopping at the arched entry into the workshop.

  Buzzard made his way to the right side of the arch. She stood on the left. Ian was so close behind her she could almost feel his chest brush her wings. He spoke just above a whisper into her ear. “Miranda’s not at her workbench. That could be very bad.”

  Layla knew Ian didn’t mean to get personal, but the feeling of someone so close to her wings unnerved her. It just wasn’t done. She fey-sized to avoid the awkwardness.

  Ian jerked back with his hand on his heart. “Christ, fairy, that freaks me out.”

  “Sorry. Anyway, I’m going to have a wee look at the room next door.”

  Buzzard stepped in front of her. “Wait. This seems very convenient. Could there be a ward in that room?”

  He was right. She should have known better. She shot an arrow into the room. It flew straight and clattered to the floor on the far end. “So far, so good.”

  A scowl crossed Buzzard’s face. “And you just alerted her if she’s there.”

  Right again. The judgment in his eyes made her drop a little lower in the air. What had he called her? Reckless. She hadn’t meant to be. From this moment on, she would be more careful. Their lives depended on it.

  Ian looked beyond her. “If Miranda is there, she didn’t hear the arrow. Go on, but keep your eyes keen.”

  She drew in a breath of false confidence and flew through the doorway. Ian had been correct. There was a second storeroom next to the one where they hid in.

  There was no sign of Miranda in that room either, but what was there was so horrible it nearly dropped her to the ground.

  It was bad enough to have watched the hag place fairies in the globes, but row after row of shelves full of glass globes containing fairies fashioned in awkward, false positions made her stomach roil. She backed away, human-sized, and turned toward the workbench.

  “Layla?” Ian spoke from the threshold of the archway.

  “She’s not there.” She rested her gaze on the workbench and a whisper of hope sent a microburst of energy through her. There, on the table, was a single glass globe. And she knew the fey inside it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Isla!” Flipping her bow over her shoulder, Layla ran to the workbench. Ian and Buzzard joined her as she snapped up the globe and pressed it against her heart.

  “Oh Isla, I found you.” Then she held it out for them to see. “I know this fairy. She was with taken with my sister. I can free her and surly she can lead me to Esme.” Tears trailed down her cheeks as she gazed at the fairy inside. Isla was perched on the side of a bottle as if she were leaning over it to open the top. A green cap resembling the top of a zucchini had been placed on her ginger hair. Her wings were open but pulled high on her back in a torturous position.

  The pain and fear in the fairy’s eyes sent a shard of sadness to the center of Layla’s essence. “I’m here for you, Isla.”

  Carefully, Layla set the globe on the workbench and pulled the sgian-dubh from her boot. She cocked back her arm and struck the globe with the hilt.

  The first blow seemed to awaken Isla. The fairy blinked, but she remained frozen in the awkward position. The second blow cracked the glass and Isla cut her eyes to Layla.

  “You’re almost free.”

  Isla looked at the top of the globe, back at Layla, and shook her head.

  “I’m going to free you.”

  Isla shook her head again, this time dislodging the hat.

  Layla drew her arm back again and struck a third blow. The glass broke and the fluid inside poured out.

  Isla collapsed.

  “Isla?” Panic surged in Layla as she lifted the fairy, careful to avoid the broken glass. Isla’s eyes remained open, but there was no life behind them. “Isla! I have you.” She should be awake. She is free—!

  With the fairy cupped in her hands, she looked around for an answer—for a way to save her. Then she saw it. A string was draped across the worktable and on the end of that string hung a glass pendant—just like the ones she’d seen on Theo’s computer.

  With a horrible twist of her heart, she realized what Isla had been trying to tell her. Simple and oh, so easy to miss. The icicle was full of purple smoke—full of Isla’s brìgh, her essence—her soul.

  Layla hadn’t saved her. “I killed her.” The words rasped from her.

  Ian laid a hand on her shoulder. “You didn’t know.”

  “I should have.” She looked at Buzzard. “You’re right. I am reckless.” Her hands shook and her breaths came too fast to fill her lungs.

  Carefully, she set Isla on the table and grabbed the locket. Her fingers trembled as she placed it on Isla’s chest. “Maybe if it’s in contact with her it will return her brìgh to her body. Isn’t that how it works for the humans? They wear the necklace and the magic grants wishes?”

  Buzzard shook his head. “She’s gone, lass.”

  “No. I just need to give it time to work.” As much as she willed the brìgh to enter the fairy, it didn’t.

  Ian dropped his hand from her shoulder. “Layla…”

  She blinked away tears from her eyes as she lifted the locket off Isla and looped the string around her own neck. “For her family.” She straightened and scanned the room. “This is all wrong. Everything about—”

  The last word was choked as the stench of sulfur, dragonwort, and rotting flesh assaulted them in a rush. It permeated the room, making it impossible to know its source. Layla shoved the sgian-dubh into her belt next to Tormed and pulled her bow from her shoulder.

  Ian turned his back to Layla and Buzzard. “We were set up.”

  Buzzard turned so that the three of them stood with their backs to each other. “Aye. It was no accident that your friend was waiting for us on the table.”

  Layla didn’t question why it was Isla and not Esme. She didn’t want to know if the answer was bad. Instead, she concentrated on controlling her breathing, steadying her hands, and not thinking about the fact that they were underground with only one way out.

  Ian and Buzzard held their guns at the ready. Ian whispered, “Keep steady. You know something is coming.”

  Layla listened for footsteps above. She strained to see movement from the storage room leading to the stairs. Nothing.

  The tension grew in their little circle. They were frozen like the fairies in the globes. Waiting. Still waiting. Layla’s arm twitched.

  Ian stepped back until his back brushed Layla’s wings. “Hold steady.”

  The stench of rotting flesh grew stronger. And still they waited.

  Layla lowered her arm. “Maybe he’s sizing us up. I could shift and check out the stairway.”

  “No.” Ian almost shouted. “You’ll leave yourself too vulnerable.”

  “Two seconds. I’ll zip to the stairs and—” Layla’s heart gave a hard thud just to make sure she was paying attention.

  They all must have seen it at the same time. A liquid the color of blood oozed toward them from every corner of the room.

  Ian shouted first. “On the table!”

  Layla shifted fey-size and hovered above as Ian and Buzzard scrambled onto the worktable.

  Buzzard stared at the floor. “What do you think it would do
to us?”

  “I don’t want to find out.” Ian looked at Layla. “What now? We can’t stay here forever.”

  Layla scanned the room. “This doesn’t feel like a protection spell. It’s too active. The smell is too fresh. This could be just the beginning.”

  “That’s comforting.” Buzzard’s eyes darted around the room.

  She landed next to Isla’s poor, lifeless body lying between the men. “This has all been for naught.”

  “No, Layla.” Ian’s voice was gentle. “We saved all those fairies from the cages.”

  “And I couldn’t save one.” She stroked Isla’s cold cheek, then turned her attention to the floor. “And now we’re trapped.”

  Buzzard said. “Technically, Ian and I are trapped. You are free to fly.”

  Ignoring Buzzard, she said to Ian, “We don’t know what the blood will do. It could be meant just to scare us.”

  Ian stared at the floor. “Well, I’d prefer you didn’t fling yourself down there to find out.”

  Instead, Layla tossed a piece of the broken globe into the red liquid. It melted like butter in a hot pan.

  “Okay, so it is more than a visual threat.” Buzzard kicked the rest of the glass onto the floor. “So what now? Do we wait here like rats caught in a trap?”

  Layla rubbed her temple as if it would dislodge a brilliant plan. “I could try to deactivate it, but how would we know it worked?” Clearing a path was the only logical action. She imagined the blood receding the way it had come.

  Nothing.

  She channeled more energy toward that thought.

  Still nothing.

  If it wasn’t going to reverse direction, she’d give it a new place to go. She flew to the door that led to the archway, and imagined the blood rolling up like a carpet. She even made the motion with her hands.

  It did as directed. It rolled toward the far wall. But by the time it neared the men, the roll had grown almost the size of the table. Buzzard faced Ian. “I hope the floor is still solid.”