by Dodge, Lola
“I have more.” Wynn already gripped another knife, ready to throw. He looked about to launch himself this time.
Moving slow, I set his fingers on my arm.
“Wynn.” I hoped my tone carried enough of a warning. We shouldn’t kill Girrar until we were sure we had a way out—and it didn’t look like we could kill him anyway.
So we better not piss him off.
Wynn’s muscles started relaxing under my fingertips, but then his whole body jolted.
A figure had appeared at Girrar’s shoulder.
I squinted into the semi-darkness. A hunched-up old man?
The creature lifted its head and spread leathery wings.
I gripped Wynn’s arm harder.
A bat.
A giant bat.
Not as big as the battle crow. Bigger than a dog. Like a St. Bernard standing upright with scissor-length claws and fangs. It had a snub nose and too-big ears, but the face was vaguely, disturbingly humanoid—with fleshy lips and a pointed chin.
Another man-bat popped out at Girrar’s other shoulder. Then another. And more. Dozens and dozens of giant, mannish bats, glaring at us with glittering black eyes.
I hugged Wynn’s arm with one arm and gripped my knife with the other, but we were too outnumbered to fight. He tried to shield me behind his body. Then stopped moving.
More bat-men behind us. And at our sides.
All around the cave.
“What do you want, Girrar?” My voice shook.
“Feed my brothers with your magic.” His face was as smug as his words.
“No.” Wynn’s answer echoed mine.
Having him at my side gave me the sliver of hope I needed. We could survive. I cleared my throat so I could speak with a stronger voice. “That’s not happening.”
“Then you’ll feed my brothers with your blood.”
My blood? A flash of pure-white panic blacked-out my vision for a second. I leaned harder into Wynn.
A man-bat ambled toward us.
It moved on all fours. Using its folded-up wings like nightmare arms. All hunched over with a crooked, loping walk.
Its jaw parted, flashing two long fangs.
Not man-bats.
Vampire bats.
“No.” I could only muster a whisper.
Wynn pulled me gently into his chest and tucked me in the shelter of his arms. He had a knife in each hand.
And he would absolutely die fighting to save us.
To save me.
The bats inched forward, flashing more fang.
We couldn’t win, but we couldn’t give in either. We needed a truce. A breath to convince Girrar to keep us alive.
And I needed my hands free to cast.
I dropped my knife and huddled tight to Wynn. I didn’t want him getting burned.
Flames.
I reached for my power center. The red of my central fire was still shot-through with green, but flames sparked, answering my call. I cast them out in a circle, first close by, then pushing back the barrier, wider and wider.
Reclaiming space.
The bat-things shrieked and lumber-hopped, cowering away. The little bats on the ceiling swooped and screeched in the sudden blast of smoke.
Sweat beaded my forehead with the effort of fueling a waist-high border of flame, but I couldn’t let it drop. I had to make Girrar think I was stronger than I was.
I stopped pushing the ring at six feet around us. My vision wavered. It was all I could do.
Wynn gripped my shoulders, holding me steady.
I’d thank him later.
I peered through the flames, trying to find Girrar.
He stared at the fire.
Not in fear, but with the same focused look he gave my macarons.
Hunger.
Because tongues of green flashed within the fire.
Death magic. Even now.
A few of the bats chittered excitedly, daring to creep closer to the flame. I didn’t have the juice to push the wall back again.
Girrar reached out, then drew back from the heat. “Too weak. Not as delicious.”
“Because I’m not a necromancer.” I gritted my teeth, trying not to show the strain that would’ve had me tipping over if not for Wynn’s steady hands. “If you want the good stuff, then negotiate. Without the army of bats.”
“You heard the witch. Flee, my brothers.”
The giant bats chittered. Arguing?
My eyes were crossing. Too exhausted.
Wynn squeezed my shoulder. “You’ve got it.”
Did I?
When I blinked a few more times, the big bats were gone.
Girrar stood alone.
The ring of fire winked out with a whoosh. I sagged. I hadn’t meant to put it out. That was it for my magic.
For a while.
“You agree to make the black cookies?” Girrar rubbed his long-fingered hands together.
“The macarons?” I took a half step away from Wynn. Still close enough he could catch me if I passed out. Just far enough to stand on my own. “I’ll bake but not here. I need ingredients and a real kitchen.”
“Here. No Syndicate. More batches.”
The dots connected in a sickly rush. He’d probably only agreed to my original terms plotting to spirit me away. Even if I hadn’t canceled our blood contract, I doubted it would’ve held here—wherever we were.
But with or without a deal, I couldn’t work like this. “I can’t bake macarons without an oven. And if you’re planning on keeping us captive, we need food, water, beds… All the human comforts.”
“Here is water.” He waved to the fast, tiny river, that cut through the edge of the cave, disappearing under its far wall.
It flowed under the ceiling full of bats.
“I need clean water that’s not being used as a toilet.” Not that I cared if his macarons were full of guano—maybe I’d even use it as filling for him—but I wasn’t touching any fluid that came in contact with the sludgy cave walls.
“All the human comforts?” Girrar’s head tilted to the side. Then he smoothed the lapels of his trench. “This way.”
He disappeared into another side tunnel.
I moved to follow, but my ankle buckled.
Wynn caught me. “You okay?”
“Not really.” I tried to blink the fog out of my eyes, but it had settled in and probably wouldn’t budge until I slept enough to recharge my power.
“Hang in.” He tucked away one of his knives to keep a light grip on my arm.
“I can hang until…” When? Until Girrar left us alone? He sure as hell wasn’t dropping us back home. Don’t think about that now. “I can hang.”
Together, we followed Girrar. Thankfully, not through another maze—just one long tunnel that led into a new cave.
Even lower than the last chamber, the space was just tall enough to hold a copy of the bottom floor of Fiona’s house. Green shutters and all.
I gaped so hard I actually managed to stand up straight.
“Write me your ingredients list.” Girrar said, his voice and form starting to go hazy. “I’ll bring them from the otherworld.”
He faded away, leaving us alone in the semi-dark cavern.
In any other situation, I probably would’ve sprinted away screaming. But I was too exhausted to run and the low ceiling of bats writhed way too close to my head. “Let’s check it out.”
Wynn moved ahead of me and opened the door without stepping over the threshold. I peered inside.
It was a perfect copy of Fiona’s downstairs.
Just the downstairs. The steps in her entry hall ended in a rock ceiling. Weirdly, the rest of the ceiling was normal paint.
Had Girrar brought her actual house into the cave?
I reached inside to flick on a light switch. The faceplate fell off the wall. It didn’t have a box behind it or even wires.
But somehow it was bright enough to see? That didn’t make sense when we were so deep in the cave.
/> Wynn and I stepped inside. The closer I looked, the more I spotted the problems with the copycat house. The living room wallpaper was supposed to be intricate roses and vines—now they looked like sketches in pink crayon.
The kitchen was spotless. Not a speck of guano.
An improvement, but the kitchen for sure wasn’t Fiona’s.
The house ended with the dining room, which was set with Fiona’s placemats and tea set. The downstairs bathroom was there—I didn’t dare check the plumbing yet—but the spare bedrooms were missing.
So Girrar had only given us as much house as he remembered? Or thought we needed?
“I’m pretty sure this is some kind of pocket universe. That’s why Girrar can wink in and out and conjure stuff.” Even though I’d never been in an alt-universe before, I’d read about them long before moving to Taos, wishing I was powerful enough to make my own. No chance. “We’ll have to test the rules. Usually, if you kill or destroy whatever’s holding the dimension in place, it collapses.”
But Girrar had never felt powerful enough to have created a world himself—more like he was middle management? We needed to find the real boss.
“I’ll do the killing. But how?”
“I don’t know yet.” Poisoned cakes would’ve been my go-to, but Girrar was already snacking on my best death magic. And he’d just taken a knife to the heart like a pat on the head. “We’ll figure it out.”
Somehow.
Later.
When the stupid fake room stopped spinning and my vision wasn’t drowning in fog.
Nineteen
I passed out on Fiona’s copycat couch. The antique clock over the mantle said noon when I collapsed and it still said noon when I clawed myself back up, rubbing groggy eyes.
We had so many problems, but if nothing in this house worked, my first fear was the bathroom. “Please tell me we have plumbing.” I didn’t see Wynn yet, but I knew he’d be close.
“We do.” His voice rumbled from behind the couch.
I climbed to my knees and peered behind the sofa. Wynn sat against the sofa-back with his eyes closed, facing the door. A knife ready next to each hand.
“That’s good news.” Because my mouth tasted like bat bottom and I wanted to chase the flavor with the coldest glass of water.
“Ready for the bad news?”
“Yeah.” I leaned my arms against the back of the couch, ready to take the hit.
“Magic only works in the house. I couldn’t summon my shield in the cave.”
“Not a surprise.” I’d probably only been able to cast flames before because Girrar had never seen me use that kind of magic. If he could control this whole cave world, he’d block us from using any power that let us fight. But he needed to let me have a space for my baking magic. “What’s the exit situation?”
“The way we came in is blocked. I spotted a few other tunnels but if we’re checking them out, we’re going together.” Wynn opened his eyes, rolled back his shoulders until they cracked, then tucked his knives away. “What do you want to do first?”
I wanted to change out of my T-shirt that had dried guano plastered to its shoulder, but Girrar hadn’t conjured us a change of clothes. “I want to make that list for Girrar.” Both with baking ingredients and the supplies we’d need if we were going to survive here. “Does the refrigerator work?”
“Didn’t look.”
I did a lap around the house and confirmed that it ran on weird mystical logic rather than anything as basic as an electric grid.
The sinks and toilets worked but drained to who knew where. No shower downstairs, which was not a good situation when you were being forced to live in a cave.
The fridge was cold and the freezer was colder, but both were empty and the cupboard and drawers didn’t even open. Girrar had left a pen and notepad on the kitchen table.
I made a list of things like food, clothes, toothbrushes, and anything else we might need then passed the pad to Wynn. “You think Girrar will deliver?”
“Has to if he wants you to bake.” Wynn scanned the list, then held out a hand. I dropped the pen in his palm. He added a few more items, then slid back the notepad.
Kitchen knives. String. Rat poison.
“Rat poison?” I doubted Wynn was getting any gifts from his wish list, but that one was an extra stretch.
Wynn shrugged. “Figure it works on bats. Worth asking.”
True.
I added a few extra herbs to the list, hoping Girrar would think they were ingredients for my death spell. If I lucked out, I could brew a poison to mix with his macarons. Then I added my cell phone, just to see how far I could push.
When I was done, I tossed the notepad out onto the front porch. Girrar could take it from there.
But I wasn’t sitting around to wait. “Want to explore?”
Wynn handed me the same small knife I’d dropped earlier. “Hold onto it this time.”
I’d rather cast than put myself in a knife fight, but at least he’d brought enough weapons to share. When we stepped into the cave, I flicked the knife into my left hand and lifted my right palm.
Magic glowed inside me, but no amount of jaw-clenching or willpower would make the teeniest, tiniest flames appear at my fingertips.
I shifted the knife back into my right hand and tried to ignore the sense of helplessness making my shoulders sink almost to the cave floor. If Girrar could block magic, there was no way he’d been sloppy enough to leave an exit we could find.
We still had to check.
I followed Wynn’s lead to the closest tunnel. Tiny bats crowded every cling-able piece of rock, whining, wriggling, and endlessly pooping.
My hair is doomed.
And I should’ve put an umbrella on that list.
At least I’d thought of shampoo.
Trying to ignore the horror growing inside my chest like an alien parasite, I forced myself to keep following Wynn. I was wasting too much brain power worrying about being dirty.
It was way too late for that.
I was also worried about the ceiling of bats spying on us. But if Girrar could manipulate space, he probably already knew what we were up to and wasn’t worried about us wandering.
Wynn led the way through tunnel after cavern and I didn’t pay much attention to the route. He had the better sense of direction and I was more interested in the cave’s magical properties. I couldn’t cast or scry or do any kind of ritual to figure out the rules, but the more we walked the more I learned.
No matter how tiny and narrow the tunnel, we could always see. Not like a light was shining overhead, but a low ambient glow kept us from bumping into the walls. I didn’t sense wind, but water flowed, sometimes roaring, sometimes dripping.
So, whenever something plopped against my scalp, I assumed water droplet and didn’t test the theory.
Bats were constant, too. The tiny ones.
We hadn’t spotted any of the monsters.
Yet.
I stopped when Wynn froze in front of me.
“What?” I peeked around him.
“Look.” He stood framed in the mouth of another tunnel. This one was as black as it should be in the depths of a cave and not one baby bat clung anywhere near its opening.
“Do we dare?” The blackness creeped me out as hard as the void we’d been pulled through to get here, but not because of magic. Just the general primordial darkness.
Because it was probably packed with giant bats who’d be thrilled to suck me dry of my pesky, death-magic-tainted blood.
Wynn took a step into the darkness, then backed straight out.
A man bat followed out of the darkness.
My breath hitched. I started to back away.
It made a low noise in its throat. Then it disappeared back into the darkness.
“So.” My voice shook. “That’s a no-go.” Not without light and a few machetes. Or machine guns.
But it was a start.
Somewhere we weren’t supposed to go. Ma
ybe something we weren’t supposed to see?
“We’ll come back ready.” Wynn’s voice sounded confident enough, but the way his gaze flickered back and forth over the walls, I wasn’t so sure.
I remembered the blocked-off tunnel he’d mentioned.
“Girrar can change the corridors.” My voice came out flat.
“Yes.”
A sense of hopelessness gnawed, but I refused to give in. “We’ll find it again.”
“Yes.” Now Wynn sounded confident. “I’ve survived worse.”
If anyone else in the universe said that, I would’ve thought they were bragging. Wynn wouldn’t waste the words. “Really?”
“Really.” He turned, ready to leave it at that.
“Wynn?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you tell me that story?” I’d figured out enough about the cave that I didn’t want to think about it anymore, and his voice was the only human thing giving me hope.
“Which story?”
“Just tell me anything.” Maybe then I wouldn’t feel like the bat-tastic walls were closing in on me. He kept walking. Not answering. “Wynn?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Anything. What’s your favorite movie?”
“I’ve only seen one movie.”
“What?” The word echoed down the endless tunnels, and somehow his answer was way weirder than our cave situation. “How?”
“You know all the Shields live and train together?”
“Do they?” Sometimes, I felt like a total idiot with my knowledge gaps. At least I was filling them in.
“Yeah. I’d just crossed into your world. Never saw a TV before, but the guys watched movies when we weren’t training. They put on Poltergeist.”
“You didn’t think it was real?”
“Couldn’t sleep for weeks.”
“So you’ve never been to a movie theater?”
“No.”
“You’re missing out on the popcorn.” I probably hadn’t seen as many movies as the average person either, but Mom and I always splurged on tickets for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was our tradition.
“Never had that either.”
“Popcorn?” I shook my head. “When we get out of here, I’ll take you to a real movie. A comedy. And we’ll eat all the snacks.”
We popped out of the tunnel I hadn’t been paying attention to and Wynn paused to look back at me.