So, we split up, sending Chervil and Pippi with the kids. Vervain explained to Chervil where we were headed, in case they had a chance to catch up to us, but I didn’t expect to see them again on this side of the portal.
***
The general atmosphere and attitude of the group felt more somber, but also more determined to end the cruelty of the nightmares as we said goodbye to Pippi, Chervil and the kids and hiked on.
We camped at the top of the first rise approaching the mountains. We spread out on the ground like corpses, hidden from view by the fallen, decaying leaves we spread over ourselves, making ourselves part of the forest floor. I snuggled up next to Frost and my eyes drifted shut.
I didn’t sleep peacefully. I dreamed of babies, young children, chased by lizard men, flayed open and prepared like they were cattle or some porcine creature. I dreamed I was one of the kids, chased and harried, certain I’d be killed and chopped into little pieces. I awoke at midnight, hot and sweating, positive I’d never be able to eat meat again.
Frost woke up when I did, his eyes at half-mast, his smile sleepy. “You okay?”
“No,” I said, in a voice low enough not to wake the others. “I dreamed of being eaten by nightmares.”
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in tight against his chest. He pressed a warm kiss to my neck. “I’ll protect you while you sleep.”
His arms felt good around me, and I felt safe, but I couldn’t sleep. I was antsy, full of energy, a live wire. “I need a walk,” I whispered to him.
Judging by the depth of the darkness, we had more than four hours before we could travel again and I was wide awake.
Frost pulled me tighter against him, like he didn’t want to let go. Just when I started to feel trapped, he released me. “Don’t wander too far,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.
I stood and picked my way carefully over the sleeping bodies.
Hieronymus had the watch and he was leaning against a gnarled tree, his expression sleepy. I tapped his shoulder and he startled, swinging his pike around to point it at me. “It’s okay,” I said, hands in the air. “I just thought you might want to get some sleep. I’m wide awake. I can watch for a while.”
His narrow face pinched in a scowl. “I’m fine,” he said, forcing his eyes wider. “Go back to sleep.”
I sighed, understanding that Hieronymus would never admit weakness. “The truth is,” I said. “I can’t sleep and I need something to do, something to take my mind off the nightmare I just had.”
His scowl darkened. “And you think standing here, staring at nothing, with only your thoughts for company will help?”
I shrugged. “It’s better than laying wide awake, staring at the stars and feeling helpless.” Yeah, that was more than I’d usually admit to anyone, including myself, but Hieronymus was never going to have a better opinion of me, so I might as well be honest.
He shook his head and handed me the pike. “If you insist on depriving yourself of rest just because you’ve failed to control your own subconscious, go ahead.” He walked toward our sleeping friends, still shaking his head.
I smiled. He was so cute when he was being judgmental and cruel. I took his place next to the tree. I was standing on the edge of the small hill we were on top of, and I had a good view of the surrounding forest and a large field that lay to the east of the hill. From here, I’d be able to see anyone approaching us from the East, as long as they didn’t have an invisibility spell of some sort.
If I turned, I’d be able to see anyone coming at us from the mountains and we were far enough from the edge of the forest to make it easy to see anyone coming from that direction. I spun every few minutes to watch every access point to our camp.
The moon was bright and lit the field in an eerie, silver glow. A low fog crept over the tall grasses and wildflowers, and the stars twinkled bright in the sky above. If I wasn’t watching so carefully for shadows or trouble, I would have enjoyed the view. Jerome, as it turned out, was an amateur painter and he often detailed, as we walked, how he’d paint a scene or a flower or a tree with skeleton branches. I couldn’t draw a decent stick figure, but he detailed the paintings he’d create so well that I could often picture them in my mind. I wondered how he’d paint the landscape before me, if he’d make it ominous or peaceful, if he’d imbue it with fear or hopeful anticipation.
I sucked in a breath and reminded myself of my job. I spun and looked at the mountains, scanning the dark crevices and shadows for trouble, pushing aside any feelings of joy at the beauty of the night. I spun again and studied the forest, and then spun back to the field.
Despite feeling wide awake just moments before, it didn’t take me long to remember how deadly boring I found standing around watching…Nothing. The warm night and the boredom were making me sleepy, making me regret my decision to take over the watch, when I saw something move into the field below me.
I straightened up and took a step closer to the edge of the rock ledge. The huge thing paused and looked up at me. I could hear its growl from where I stood, at least half a mile away and several hundred feet above it. It lumbered forward again, appearing to move on all fours and in my direction. From that distance, I couldn’t tell how big it was or what it was. I had no idea if it was a threat.
I couldn’t take the chance that thing was dangerous and let it get too close. I leaned the pike against the tree and tiptoed over sleeping bodies until I found Lensy. She slept peacefully, and I hesitated to wake her. Another growl, sounding closer this time, stirred Frost and he moved around the sleeping bodies to join me next to Lensy. He placed a hand on the small of my back and squeezed my waist.
Lensy must have felt our nearness, because she shifted in her sleep and opened her eyes. “Everything okay?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Something’s out there, but I don’t know what it is.”
Lensy didn’t sigh or groan, she nodded and climbed to her feet, as though she’d just been resting with her eyes closed and not dead asleep. I wished I could get up so easily.
I led her over to the tree, shocked to see that the lumbering beast had made it over two-thirds of the way across the field and was now jogging at a fast clip. He looked up when we stepped onto the rock ledge, and I could make out an almost humanoid face, like a giant ape, maybe. He ducked his head and started moving faster.
“We need to go,” Lensy said, her face pale. “Sound the alarm.”
I grabbed her elbow before she ran back to the others. “Everyone up,” she shouted, but she didn’t try to escape my grip. “We need to move.”
“What is that thing?” I asked.
“Mountain sasquatch. They usually stay in the wilds, but maybe the nightmares have disturbed them, too.”
“That thing is Bigfoot? Isn’t that a myth?”
She shrugged. “Not in Rubalia. It’s big and it’s vicious and it’s gotten a scent of us. We need to get as far from it as we can. And fast.”
I let her go and she ran to join the others who were already milling about, pulling on packs and shoes and getting out weapons. Lensy made her way to Vervain, and I followed.
“It’s a sasquatch,” Lensy told the girl. “Do you know a place. . .?”
Vervain’s eyes widened with fear. “No. They don’t live around here.”
“Maybe not,” Lensy said. “But there’s one here and it’s approaching fast. We need a place to hide.”
Vervain tapped her fingers on her waist. I could see she was trying to think, but she was too panicked. I knelt before her and put my hands on her shoulders, hoping to calm her, but her expression only became more panicked as she shook off my touch. We needed Pippi, but Pippi was gone.
I moved away from Vervain and she relaxed. “It’s okay,” I said. “If there’s nowhere to go, we’ll stand and fight.”
“It’s ten feet tall with an impenetrable hide,” she said, her voice wobbly, her teeth chattering.
“It’s okay,” I said. �
�We’ve got dragons and warriors on our side.”
She nodded and her eyes looked a little less wild. “We should go up the mountain. Sasquatches don’t like the mountains, usually, but it had to cross the mountain to get here…”
“Let’s move out,” Lensy yelled to the people milling around. “If you think of somewhere to go, Vervain, you shout it out. Don’t worry about being quiet now.”
“Okay,” Vervain said. She clasped her hands together and twisted her fingers. “But if the sasquatch is here, there might be—”
“More creatures from the wilds,” Lensy said. “We’ll keep an eye out.”
“What am I looking for?” I asked.
“I’ll explain as we run,” Lensy said. Together, the eleven of us jogged toward the mountains. Lensy, Frost and I ended up near the back. Benny and Chelsea shifted to dragon and rose to the sky to keep an eye on the sasquatch’s progress.
“The wilds take up almost the entire Northern quarter of Rubalia,” Lensy said as we trotted up the side of the mountain. “The most aggressive animals and fae tend to stay in the wilds and only rarely foray out to cause trouble.”
“That’s kind of them.”
“The rest of the fae in Rubalia have made sure anywhere else but the wilds is less than hospitable for them.”
“What sorts of creatures live in the wilds?”
“The more feral harpies and giants,” Lensy said. “Sasquatches. Blood-thirsty gryphons. Manic unicorns. Exiled fae from any of the races. As well as animals more typical to your realm, two-headed lions, grizzly orangu-bears, and giant rats.”
“Sounds lovely.”
She grimaced. “The Sasquatch might have left the wilds because he lost a dominance fight. Or he could have fled with other creatures who were chased out or who ventured out because they believe no one would stop them.”
Behind us, the roar of the Sasquatch was loud and angry. Everyone picked up their pace, but I could hear people near me panting and I knew we couldn’t keep this speed for long. I looked back at Vervain, but she was scanning the forest around us desperately, like she had no idea where to go or what to do.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Fearless is a lie. Fear motivates and protects. Fearless is for the dead or brain dead.—Chloe Frangipani
I stopped being a child when I lost everyone I loved.—Vervain Everwood
We ran until my lungs felt like they were going to burst. I didn’t think I was in terribly poor shape, but we were running straight up the side of a mountain. Even the fittest person would struggle with that. Probably.
Another roar from the Sasquatch had my legs pumping harder. “Right at the rock cairn,” Jerome shouted from the front. I had no idea if Vervain had thought of an escape or if she was just guiding us the way she’d always been planning to take us.
“What do you know about this thing?” I asked Lensy.
“They are extremely territorial,” she said, speaking as easily as if we were out for a relaxing stroll. “But this isn’t its territory. It may be hungry or it may be trying to define a new territory. Sasquatches aren’t terribly high thinkers and they tend to have a hard time stopping once they’ve started killing.”
“And what can we do to stay safe?”
“They respect boundaries. They’re smart enough for that, but we’ve got no way of claiming this mountain-side as our own. They hate darkness and underground places, so if we could find a cave or a troll dwelling, we would be safe there until it went away.”
Sounded like a time-consuming solution. “Any chance there are animals on this mountain who will take on a sasquatch?”
She snorted. “On our behalf? None that I’ve ever heard of.”
The sasquatch behind us growled again, as though in agreement, and we all picked up our pace. My thighs were burning and my head was getting light. Of all the places I could die, I really didn’t want it to be among trees and dirt and rocks, in nature, and smelling like clean air. My element was concrete and the sweet scent of gasoline from passing cars.
“Go left at the painted rock,” Jerome shouted. I hoped Vervain had come up with a plan. When I looked back at her, I could see that her expression had changed and now held more determination than fear or confusion. My brain cheered, but my body was sure we’d be dead of exhaustion before the sasquatch could catch us anyway.
One of the dragons screeched with something like pain. I looked over my shoulder, but Lensy grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. “If we stop, we’re all dead,” she said. “We don’t have the right weapons to take on a sasquatch.”
The line slowed and then halted. A dragon screeched again but, when I looked back, I saw Chelsea hanging in the air, probably looking for a clear shot at the sasquatch.
The lower half of the mountain was covered with forest, and we hadn’t yet reached the rockier, tree-less landscape above. The trail we’d been following was narrow and the forest floor to either side was steep and covered with slick leaves.
“What’s going on?” Frost asked, his voice thrumming with tension. Lensy shrugged and the line moved forward.
We moved up to stand next to our friends in front of a wall of rock.
Vervain stood to the right of the blank rock face, where Vin was half in and half out of a narrow crevice in the rock wall. She was getting herself inside, but it was slow-going and I wasn’t sure anyone bigger than her, like Jerome, would fit.
With a curse, Vin’s head disappeared into the crevice and Lensy urged Vervain to follow her with a gentle push. Jerome went next. I didn’t expect the hulking man to be able to follow the small, pixy girl but, in a matter of seconds, his skin changed to rock and he shrunk in stature by a good foot, like the rock was weighing him down. He slipped into the crevice with ease and slid down behind Vervain.
Lensy turned to me with a weary smile. “You should go next, princess.”
“No,” I said. “Hieronymus is more important than me.”
Hieronymus didn’t argue, but slipped into the crevice with fairy-shifting ease. I motioned Bluebell and Clove forward and they entered the crevice without argument. I followed and Frost slid in after me. “Shit,” Frost said, his voice a bit shaky. “I think I’m stuck.
I looked back to see him wedged all the way through the crevice. Once we’d gotten past the opening, it had widened to a manageable size, and I could see light between Frost’s body and the rock. “You don’t look stuck,” I said.
“Maybe I should climb back out and stand guard, make sure the sasquatch can’t follow us down here.”
My arms were getting a bit achy from holding myself in place and I was confused. “Benny and Chelsea are watching the sasquatch,” I said. “Standing next to the crevice will only draw attention to our hiding place.”
“Right,” he said, his voice raspy. “But maybe I should…Someone should guide them to our hiding place. We can’t just leave them out there.”
He had a point, but Benny and Chelsea would have probably watched where we’d gone from the air. And, even if they hadn’t, they’d find us once they’d chased off the sasquatch and we came out of hiding. “That’s something we can discuss with the others,” I said. “We need to move to let Lensy in.”
“Move,” Frost said. “Right. That’s going to be a problem for me.”
“Are you two okay in there?” Lensy yelled down the crevice.
“We just need a minute,” I shouted back when Frost said nothing. “Frost’s gotten a little hung up.”
“What’s the problem?” I asked him in a lower voice.
He breathed out a long sigh. “I don’t like small spaces.”
“You’re claustrophobic?”
He snorted. “No, nothing like that. I just hate small spaces. You know how much I hated being in a cage. This is a lot like that, except worse. I just…I think I’d be more help above ground. That cave behind the waterfall was bad enough, I…”
It sure sounded like claustrophobia to me, but now probably wasn’t the best time to point that ou
t. “If we just get past this point, the cave probably opens up to a much larger space.”
“Or it could be smaller,” he said, his voice a raspy whisper.
“Do you want me to go ahead and check it out.”
“No,” he said. He swallowed hard. “I’ll go with you. We’ll do this together, just don’t…Don’t leave me alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. I stayed where I was until our hips were touching. He was breathing so hard and fast, I wished I could make this all go away or take away his fear. “We’ll take it slow,” I said.
“No. Faster is better.”
So I moved as fast as I could, shimmying down the narrow crevice, until I saw a bit of light and an open space below us.
“Frost and I are having some trouble,” I yelled down to Hieronymus. “What’s below us? Can we just slide down?”
“You’re clear,” Hieronymus called back.
So, without too much thought, I let go and slid, Frost’s weight pushing me forward at an even faster clip.
At the base of the narrow crevice was a drop of about six feet. I slid out of the crevice fast and hit the stone floor hard, the wind knocked out of me. Before I could blink or catch my breath, Frost shot out and landed on me. I heard a crack and pain shot through my torso.
Frost scrambled off me, his eyes wide. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He knelt next to me and lifted my shirt. Whatever he saw made him suck in a breath and curse.
“Hieronymus,” I said, barely able to find the breath for the words I wanted to say. “I think I broke something.”
Frost lifted me, my body screaming in resistance to the jostling, and carried me into a low-ceilinged cavern that was lit by no light source I could see. He laid me down in a far corner, my back against stone. He pressed a kiss to my temple. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
“I’ll be fine.” I forced a smile that must have looked more like a grimace of pain, because he leapt back and stepped aside to make room for Hieronymus.
Fairy, Neat (Fairy Files Book 6) Page 13