by Julie Reece
Ferdy bumps my hand with his muzzle. I think he’s worried, and it’s sweet—slimy, but sweet.
“Gross.” Rose wrinkles her nose.
I don’t know if she means the insect or Ferdy’s dripping nose. Both qualify. Ferdinand holds another apple in his meaty hand, and shoves it at me with a grunt. Finding it pest free, I sink my teeth into the juicy flesh. My eyes close as tangy flavor explodes in my mouth.
More fruit disappears into Ferdy’s gullet, juice dripping from his chin. We crunch away like two happy cows chewing cud. It isn’t pretty. And I couldn’t care less.
“What are you doing? Shouldn’t we go?” Rose’s tone grows more demanding.
“We are going. Chill out!” When she bites her lip, I instantly regret snapping. How long would I wait after being stuck in that tower? Her impatient glances might be fear Pan’s following, and I feel like a jerk again. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m tired and stressed, and when I’m hungry, I get cranky. In the South, we call that ‘hangry.’ Get it? Hungry plus angry is … ” I smile. She doesn’t. “No? Forget it. ” So much for lightening the mood. “Let me just … yeah.”
I pull my outer shirt off and sink to my knees. Scooping fallen apples, I wrap as many as will fit inside the dirty fabric and tie the ends together.”
“Raven?”
Rose gazes down at me with icy blue eyes. Something about her strikes a familiar chord, but I don’t know what it would be.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. You’ve risked so much. Forgive me?”
“Sure. No problem.” I lift my bundle. “I’m taking these for the guys in case they’re hungry. See? We’re going. It’s all good.”
Ferdy growls as though he disagrees before stuffing his cheeks with more apples.
Sorry, boy.
As we walk along, the bull-man’s hooves beat the dry ground in hollow thuds.
Rose glances over her shoulder. “Looks like you’ve picked up a stray.”
“Does, doesn’t it?” A quiet smile breaks free. If Ferdy wants to tag along, that’s more than okay with me.
Two hours of hiking and three apples later, I’m feeling better physically, but there’s still no sign of Gideon and Cole. A purple dragonfly zips from cattail to thistle, keeping us company. I prefer the bull and bug’s company to that of the incessant chatterbox next to me.
First Rose pumps me for information on the guys. Lonely or not, questions like are you and Gideon dating, is he a good kisser, and what’s your bra size are none of her damn business. When she finally notices I’m not up for the role of Gossip Girl, she pouts. Unfortunately, she isn’t quiet long before bringing up shopping, make-up, travel, and what model car I drive. I want to ask if she’s seen the TV show Keeping up with the Kardashians, because that’s who she sounds like.
She smiles and touches my arm a lot. In part, I think, because she’s friendly. But also because her feet appear on human contact and that must be nice—to feel normal again. I’ve never been the touchy-feely type with my girlfriends, but I haven’t been kept in a stone closet, either. I don’t mind if it makes her happy. As Rose talks, I interject a word here and there so she thinks I’m listening, but I’m not; at least, not completely. She’s got the energy level (and attention span) of a squirrel, and it’s exhausting.
The landscape changes again, as it does so often here. The soil turns spongy, foliage drips with moisture. Tree varieties grow taller and more tropical. Towering palms with wispy fronds sway in the warm breeze. Flat bush leaves fan out in yellows and reds. A toucan or parrot or something else very un-South-Carolina-like calls its mate.
Despite the strangeness, our surroundings seem peaceful enough. Ferdy sends no impressions of impending doom. Still, around every bend in the road, I’m waiting for Pan to show up. It’s too quiet. An ominous presence builds until I feel like goat-bait from Jurassic Park. I saw that movie too young and couldn’t sleep for a week.
“Raven?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re not listening, are you? I asked if something’s wrong.” Her gaze darts around. “And what’s Jurassic Park?”
Did I say that out loud? “Sorry. It’s just not like Pan to let me walk off with his prisoner and do nothing. He’s got a bet to win, so I—”
“A bet? What sort of bet?” She sounds pissed off, and I don’t blame her.
“If we make our way back out of the labyrinth together, Pan agreed to let us go. If not, we’re stuck here as co-inmates.”
She blinks. “That’s it? That’s your whole plan?”
“We’ll get out.”
Her laugh explodes harsh and cynical. “You’ll never beat him.”
I’m about to ask why she’s so sure, and there he is. Ahead where the trail widens to a clearing, Pan astride the back of a triceratops.
Seriously.
Ferdy snorts. His hoof scrapes the ground.
“Speak of the devil,” Rose says.
“You can say that again, sister.” My fingers tighten on the metal bed rail in my hand.
“Ladies, how delightful to see you again.”
The dinosaur pulls at the bit in her mouth. I say her because the animal’s hide is lavender. I shiver, remembering my earlier comment about goat-bait and wonder if she’s carnivorous. No way is this a coincidence. “What are you, some sort of clairvoyant?”
He smiles. “Ah, now that would be a trick. No, unfortunately I simply have excellent hearing.”
He’s listening? That’s it! When I think back, some of the nightmares I experienced closely followed fears I’d expressed out loud. Desiree confessed to creating the same type of frightening visions to scare me away from Gideon. I’m guessing she learned from Pan—before her release and subsequent drowning, that is.
“So, you spy on us.”
“Well, duh. You’re a rather dull bulb today, aren’t you?”
“Eavesdropping is so pedestrian, Pan. I’m shocked you’d stoop to something so unimaginative.”
He rubs his stomach. “I’m not bothered by it. In fact, I’ve eaten quite well since your arrival.”
I get his whole, horror show act now, and it’s disgusting. He listens, makes his victim’s worst fears a reality, then feeds off the suffering. It’s true he said as much in the asylum, but I wasn’t exactly coherent and wrote it off as part of my nightmare. My mind crushes him with a giant hammer. If I say that out loud, will it happen? Probably doesn’t apply to his own pain. “Handy.”
“Oh, indeed. You’d be surprised what nonsense people utter when they’re under the influence. Now, where are you headed? To find your friends, perhaps? I thought I’d tag along.”
Heavy footfalls inch closer until Ferdy’s sticky breaths steam my shoulder. Bulls aren’t known for staying cool under pressure, so I’m as surprised by his self-control as I am by the fact that he clearly stands with me and not Pan, whom I assume is his master.
Pan teleports off his dino-steed, and stands ten feet from me, ridiculous in his white tuxedo with gold trim and tails. On his head is a long, powdered wig straight out of the 1800’s, a stuffed partridge nestled into the curls on one side. He looks more like a Mozart wannabe than sadistic ruler.
A dull ache starts in the back of my skull. To think this creep might eat my headache sends a shudder through me.
The dinosaur keeps her position up the path, though she tosses her head. We could use an ally. “Nice girl?” I say, reaching out with my mind.
“Uh, uh, uh. None of that,” Pan says, wagging a finger as though I’m a naughty child. I make note of his three inch nails painted purple to match his ride. “You’ve already bewitched my Minotaur.” He nods toward Ferdy. “The beast’s job, Ms. Weathersby, was to skewer you with his rather impressive horns.” He exhales in a dramatic sigh. “You’ve become most inconvenient.” His smile is hard as flint, madness evident in his wild, red-rimmed eyes. I jump when he snaps his fingers. A small flame sparks and goes out in a puff
of smoke.
Behind him, a ten-foot tall rabbit stands in place of the dinosaur. And it’s pink.
The animals, his teleporting, the fire … it’s obvious. “You control all four elements?”
“Imbecile. Of course! You single wielders are potent, but no match for me … ” His fingers snap again. “I’ve been at it much longer, you said so yourself.”
There’s no time to react as willow trees erupt from the earth. Long branches snake around my limbs. We’re established frenemies, and the willows ignore my request for help. The bed rail’s torn from my hand. I cry out as metal slices the fleshy part of my palm.
Ferdy roars as several trees work to secure two thousand pounds of severely pissed-off bull. He’s strong and doesn’t know the word quit. Branches snap and break as he thrashes, but eventually, like a rat wound in a snake’s coils, the willows win.
“Leave us alone!” Ooh, good one, Rae. If you’re scolding your brother for interrupting a tea party.
Ferdy shakes with rage. His lowing echoes through the jungle.
Pan pantomimes a wide yawn before stepping forward. “Shall we go, Rosamond?”
I don’t like how he says her name. I don’t like any of this, but I can’t stop him.
She doesn’t resist as he tenderly wraps her waist. Or complain when he bends his head to whisper. Maybe she’s used to this treatment, or believes it’s useless to fight. Something feels wrong, though I can’t say what. Poor Rose. Of course it’s wrong. Everything’s wrong!
He leads her toward the ginormous bunny that hasn’t moved an inch.
With a swish of his hand, Pan evokes a twelve-foot wide hole in the ground. Grass, mulch, and dirt swirl together, creating a spinning vortex in the earth as smoothly as your grandmother mixes cake batter in her favorite bowl.
The vortex tilts, rising until vertical, like a penny standing on its side. Smooth gray stones form, lining the inner walls of a lengthening tunnel. Water gurgles along the floor, but none leaks outside the opening.
I strain against the willow limbs and catch a glimpse of a winding staircase. Steps curl around the walls and drown in the rising water.
A memory takes hold. I squint and see a door on the far wall—a green door.
My eyes widen. Rose’s tower! Okay, not upright, as it should be, the structure’s lying on its side, but that’s sure enough her tower. Damn it! Pan is taking her back to jail.
He grins and waves before sending his prisoner through the opening ahead of him. Another swirl and the entire tower folds into the vacuous hole and disappears without a trace.
The moment they’re gone, the trees release us and retreat into the ground. Good thing, or Ferdy might chop them to kindling with his ax.
A scream of frustration rips from me. The bull-man tosses his massive head in the air and trumpets. I stamp, and swear, and holler again. The Minotaur matches my tantrum yell for yell. I’m beginning to love this guy. No matter how miserable, it’s nice to have company. When I’m done venting, I feel a little better. Not that my big show did me any good. Weary and defeated, I slump against the hairy mountain of bull-man.
A beefy arm comes around my shoulder, pushing my face into his underarm. The musk of wet swamp-rat might be preferable, but I couldn’t care less. “Thanks, buddy,” I say, as he releases me.
The rabbit’s ears twitch. I’d forgotten about her. Or rather, I hoped she’d disappear, like her hideous rider.
Smashing rustles the palmetto bushes to our right.
What now, T-Rex, demon-possessed bulldozer, Jack the Ripper? Not that I’ll guess anything out loud.
Ferdy tenses. I’m sure he senses my anxiety, not that he isn’t shooting off waves of his own.
I squat, pick up the slat I dropped, and slowly straighten. Maybe three thousand pounds of rabbit will distract whatever’s coming.
Two dark shapes burst from the jungle. At the sight of the Pepto-Bismol-colored bunny, they turn in unison, flinching again when they spot me. Well, and Ferdy, too.
The bones in my legs liquefy, and I stagger like a drunkard. A sob chokes anything I might say.
It’s Gideon and Cole.
Chapter Thirty
Gideon
My throat dries. Every breath is a controlled effort as Raven stands sandwiched between two monsters. Relief she’s still alive tag-teams with the fear she’ll be killed any minute. My fists are instant balls of flame. Cole gathers wind around us, and I pull oxygen from his stores to fuel my fires. I don’t know if it’s the sight of my hands or the smell of smoke, but the alien-rabbit bugles like an elephant and thunders past us into the jungle. Trees snap in half and crash to the ground in its wake.
As the noise fades, I pivot to face the other threat. He’s some kind of mythological hybrid of bull and man.
“A Minotaur,” Cole says. “I’ve met one before. They’re lethal.”
Cole and I must share the same thought, because we break into a jog, readying for battle.
Raven darts in front of the beast. Her back to his … chest? Both her arms stretch out on either side, warning us away, protecting him from attack.
Confused, I check my pace. Her lips are moving, but I can’t hear her. And God, how I want to hear her.
The bull paws the ground and snorts. His eyes are red neon. Blood turns molten in my veins as I calculate how close she is to those deadly-sharp horns. When the Minotaur lifts his ax, I draw back my hand, the ball of flame ready to launch.
“Gideon, don’t hurt him!” She gives me her profile and speaks low and steadily to the thing behind her.
Again, I slow my pace, keeping careful watch.
“Are you all right, Rae?” Cole expresses what I would say if I could find my tongue.
“Yes, fine. Sorry. He’s a friend. Come and meet him just … walk nice, okay? You’re scaring him.”
“We’re scaring him?”
My thoughts exactly.
We edge closer, moving slowly to honor her request.
My gaze sweeps the broad head of the bull, the arms and torso of a man that morph into animal legs with hooves. If the thing is Raven’s friend, and helped keep her safe, then he’s off my list to charbroil.
The ache I felt while she was missing amplifies now that we’re together again. A drink of water set before a man dying of thirst, yet kept out of reach. I let Cole worry about the Minotaur while I indulge a moment, absorbing the sight of her.
Wild hair snakes out in all directions, framing a face with both a busted lip and fading black eye. There’s a deep cut on her cheek and one through her eyebrow that will likely scar. Dried blood darkens the skin under her nose. Bruised knuckles, torn clothing, she reminds me of someone who’s survived a war.
She watches me with stormy eyes, the details of her journey written on her battered body. A haunted expression assures me of the suffering she’s endured and my will bleeds out with my heart.
In my mind, I’m on my knees before her in complete surrender, and then that’s where I am. Head down, hands limp at my sides, staring at her boots.
“Gideon, thank God you’re safe.” She kneels, but doesn’t touch me. Why would she? Her chin lifts. “Cole, sit down. You look ready to drop.”
Cole obeys, and together we form a small circle. His smile is weary and fleeting. “It’s good to see you, duck.” Leaning over, he drops a quick kiss on her forehead. I don’t miss the subtle wink he sends me as he straightens.
No spark of jealousy rekindles at their meeting. I feel nothing but gratitude everyone’s alive.
Raven’s hands tremble. As if she can’t contain herself any longer, she throws her arms around the both of us and pulls us in for a hug.
I’m not a group hug kind of guy, but if it means holding Raven, I’ll do it. My palm gently cradles her head. I lose count of the kisses I press to her temple.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispers.
I don’t know if she’s talking about me, or C
ole, or both of us, and I don’t give a damn. “You, too,” I answer, words muffling against her hair. When I finally force some distance between us, I realize Cole has edged aside. He sits a little apart, pretending not to watch.
Rae studies my face. “What happened to you?” She glances at Cole, eyes narrowing over his shredded ear. “Tell me everything that happened.”
“Not everything, surely.” He pulls a face, but a smile leaks through.
“Yes, everything. I have news for you, too, and oh, wait … I have a surprise.”
She springs up, excitement in her smile. I don’t know where her strength comes from. She looks beat down, beat up, skin and bones, and she’s the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. When she stumbles, I’m halfway up to catch her.
“I’m okay, Gideon. Stay there.”
As I settle back down, I watch her search the ground a few feet away. She picks something up and stuffs it into her shirt.
Cole looks over, giving me one of his single shoulder shrugs.
The Minotaur waits near us, a formidable sentinel. One ear twitches at a fly. His nostrils leak an impressive string of snot onto the ground. His gaze tracks Rae’s every move. Instead of suspicion, I’m strangely relieved he’s around.
Cole, however, glares at him. “Oi, remember me, mate? You tried to take my arms off once. Don’t imagine I’ll be forgetting it either.”
Whether or not the bull remembers, he doesn’t respond with more than a bored huff.
“Here we go, guys!” Raven says, striding toward us. It’s so damn cute how happy she seems, dividing her treasure of apples between us, including the Minotaur. Her gaze keeps sliding to mine. Easily caught because I don’t even try to pretend I’m not staring at her.
I smile as her eyes snap forward, but her cheeks redden, giving her away.
We crunch on apples and take turns relaying what happened after the Draugar separated us in the swamp. Cole recounts our run-in with the witches (omitting our embarrassing display with the sirens, of course). I talk about our increasing power.