Planeswalker

by Chloe Adler

  “Look, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m going to find your king and he’ll explain everything.” I’m lifting my leg to step over them when something sharp hits my neck and a freaking net falls over my head. What the fuck—are the last words I think on my way back down to the painfully solid ground.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When I open my eyes I’m tied up like the giant from . . . what the hell was that book again? Something Travels? Sullivan’s? My parents read it to me when I was a kid. No matter, I’m on my back on the ground in the forest, and there are ropes crisscrossing my entire body. I pull on my arm, sure that I’ll be able to pull up whatever tiny stake they’ve used to anchor the ropes, but nope, I can’t budge. I turn my head to one side and then the other and gasp. The end of each rope is being held by a teeny, tiny creature. Like super crazy tiny. The size and shape of an earthworm. The dryads look like giants next to these things. I blink rapidly.

  “Hey guys,” I say in my most jovial tone. “How ’bout you let go of those ropes? I’m a good guy. I’m only here to help everyone.”

  The little creatures do not respond but they don’t pull the ropes tighter either.

  “Help!” I scream. May as well try everything.

  “There’s no help for the devil,” a deep voice like a bassoon says to my left.

  I wrench my head toward it. One of the guards stands several feet away, watching me. “Go get Zuri and Paxil, they know me. They’ll vouch for me.”

  “Is this true?” says the female in charge. “Cli, fetch the fairies.”

  “Yes, Capatani. Right away, Captain.”

  The little creature shuffles off. Since the dryads can’t fly, who knows how long it’ll take to find Zuri. She’s probably buzzing around miles away.

  As soon as he leaves there’s mumbling and whispering. “No,” says Capatani after a minute or two.

  “If it doesn’t kill her, we’ll know she’s not a devil,” says another voice.

  Oh hell no. The witch trials all over again in a strange new land. But I can go back. Sabin taught me how. I can just close my eyes, picture home and travel back. Except that I’d be leaving Vasily here, but maybe he didn’t cross over with me at all. Now that I’m allowing myself to go there, that makes even more sense. When I came to Tara with Candy, she was right next to me, but this time, Vasily wasn’t. And when I traveled back with Sabin, he was right next to me as well. That’s it! I must be here alone. Plus if I go back and escape a painful death, I can merely return later. Not that I’d ever want to revisit this nightmare.

  “Fine. Collect the sap and boil it. Basma, you climb the tree over her face with a rope. Set up the pulley.” Capatani barks out orders like a woman who’s used to being in charge.

  Yeah, I’m not going to stick around for this one. Having my face burned off by boiling sap is not my idea of a party. I gulp down lungfuls of air and close my eyes, setting to the task of calming myself, which, under the circumstances is a bit of a challenge. At least the burning liquid isn’t already in place. Hopefully I have a few minutes.

  I focus on my breath the way Bodhi taught me. The night he focused on relaxing me, on taking care of me. It was a special moment indeed, one that spoke to his immense integrity. He gave me a formless, yet tangible gift, one that traveled with me to Tara. I drop the cord down through my body, grounding myself and relaxing each part of my body.

  “What’s she doing?” a voice asks but it sounds far away and I try to tune it out.

  “She’s sleeping,” someone else says. “Best wake her up.”

  “Not yet. Wake her before we pour the sap,” says the now familiar voice of their fearless leader.

  Bless her. But they keep bickering amongst themself and I can’t drown them out. So in my head, I sing. I pick Laurie’s song from a Copeland opera, The Tender Land, where she wonders what her future holds. Seems apt.

  While I’m silently singing, I picture the mansion. I see my room, then the spell room. The atrium the way it was set up for Candy and Sabin’s wedding. My men. I bring in their smells next. Arch of pine needles and leather, a misty breeze off the ocean for Bodhi, freshly cut grass for Forrest and the heady scent of wood chips for Cedar. Then I conjure the men themselves, not just their faces, but their very essences. Arch the redwood, tall, strong and proud, the color of fire. Bodhi like his namesake tree, expansive and wide, kissing the sky and hugging the air. Forrest encapsulating every bit of greenery, every single shrub and flower, sustaining those around him like the water beneath a forest’s floor. And Cedar, as constant and immovable and silent as the earth itself.

  When the familiar flash of bright white light momentarily blinds me, I let out a huge sigh of relief.

  “Amaya?”

  Forrest’s voice catapults me to safety with body-shuddering relief. I open my eyes to find myself—on top of Vasily’s horse?

  Chapter Nineteen

  I sit up and throw my arms around Forrest, who gathers me close, lifting me off Sequoia.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe, I’ve got you.” He kisses the top of my head and I lift my eyes to his. They’re glassy. Shit, he’s been worried. I loop my arms around his neck and kiss him. It’s instinctual and before I can figure out why or if it’s a good idea, he’s kissing me back. My mouth parts and his tongue, warm and hot, tangles with my own.

  The kiss is strong and hard, like two long lost lovers reunited after years of being apart. He’s hungry for me and my body responds. I press into him, sighing into his mouth, but he pulls away. His moves are measured, like he doesn’t want to spook me. His hands, as pale as moonlight, move to my cheeks, framing them.

  “Did you bring Vasily back with you?”

  I jump back, my heart sinking. “I never saw him there. I thought he was here.” I look around, frantic and wild.

  “Vasily disappeared with you and hasn’t come back.”

  Oh no! “How long have I been gone?”

  “Five days.” His white brows tremble and he reaches for me again.

  I let him fold me back into his body while we both process what this could mean for Vasily. It seemed like I was in Tara for no more than a couple of hours but who knows how long I was unconscious for?

  “We should go back to the house. The others have been worried sick, and your friend Jules . . .”

  “What about her?” I don’t let him go.

  “She’s refused to leave.”

  I pull away and look up at him. “Refused to leave? The house?”

  He nods. “She goes to work and comes back, waiting for you, raging a lot. We gave her a room.”

  I clench my jaw.

  “Let’s fix up the horses and then we’ll go back,” Forrest hands me a brush and I use it robotically on Sequoia. If he’s trying to distract me, it works. Panic over the missing king is set aside as I focus on the familiar task of caring for his horse. Sequoia doesn’t need a bridle so there’s nothing to remove. After a thorough brushing, I pet him and coo while Forrest checks on the others.

  There’s a horse for each brother too. My official job here is horse handler, which means riding them and grooming them. A dream job if ever there was one, except that I haven’t been held responsible for doing it. The horses here are all a little different, especially Sequoia. Not to mention the brothers already ride them regularly. I suspect the horse handler idea was Vasily’s way of getting me here, offering what he knew I needed. A job. My throat tightens because the real reason I’m here, to get Vasily back to Tara, has backfired. Vasily wants me as his planeswalker. The warlocks look to me for their salvation. I don’t want to disappoint them, but why wouldn’t I? That’s been the story of my life since the moment I was born.

  It only takes Forrest a few minutes to finish with the horses—he’s obviously the one who’s been looking after them while I was gone. When he’s ready, he holds his hand out and I clasp it. He pulls my hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it. If Vasily weren’t missing, I could lose myself in him, but what kind of perso
n would that make me? Even worse than the kind of person I already am, as if that were even possible.

  Chapter Twenty

  When we enter the atrium my nose picks up the earthy aroma of freshly baked bread. Forrest leads me into the dining room, never letting go of my hand. The table is so full that another leaf has been added.

  The moment Jules sees me she screams and leaps up but she doesn’t run over to me. Instead, she bites her lip and looks at the table. I want to throw my arms around her, which is no surprise. She’s been my closest friend since forever. But I’m still angry and a little leery, that ugly jealousy rearing up like an untamed stallion. Has she ingratiated herself with my men while I was gone in hopes that she’ll take my place? Is there one in particular she has her eye on or is it all of them?

  Or maybe she really is here for me.

  I want to believe that. I hate that I’m jealous and don’t trust her. Besides, if any of my men would rather have her, isn’t that the perfect sign that they’re not for me?

  The men all stand up too, along with Candy and Sabin. But Bodhi and Arch are the first to grab me and kiss me. The rest hang back until I approach and hug each of them, saving Jules for last.

  “I was worried about you,” she whispers into my hair and I shift in her grasp but she doesn’t let go. I let myself sink into her, jealousy morphing into guilt. There’s no reason to be jealous of my best friend. She’s never done anything since to make me question her. Wherever this jealousy is coming from, it has nothing to do with her. I force myself to hug her back and we remain this way for a full minute before I finally pull away.

  “We good?” She holds my gaze.

  I don’t know. “We’re good.”

  She squeezes my shoulder.

  Arch, Bodhi and Candy pepper me with questions but it’s too overwhelming and I turn to Forrest, who holds up a hand. “One at a time, please.”

  “Where’s Vasily?” asks Arch.

  “He’s still in Tara,” says Forrest, speaking for me and I’m so grateful he is.

  Candy screeches and clutches Sabin. “We have to go back and get him.”

  He shushes her, petting her head. “He’ll be fine sunshine, he’s the king.”

  “The king of what?” asks Jules.

  Shit. My eyes grow bigger than my face as I turn to the men. If anyone tells a human that he’s the Taran king, he’ll never be able to return to there. Except . . . he’s already there. Maybe that law only works when he’s here on Earth? That would make sense but no one says a word or moves. They just exchange glances and Sabin’s hand covers his mouth, his eyes wider than mine.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Jules asks into the silence.

  “Forget it,” I say. “It’s just a weird nickname they use for him.” I hate lying to my BFF but the alternative is much worse.

  “Whatever,” she snorts.

  “What are you eating?” I throw the men a look and jut my chin toward the table. They get the hint and all return to their seats but remain standing while Forrest gets me another chair and everyone moves down to make room.

  The table is laden with breakfast food. Eggs, bread, hash browns and fruit. Within a few minutes people are eating and chatting quietly. I know they’re trying to appear normal for Jules. They’re not used to having an outsider in their midst. It was weird enough when I came to live here. Oh wow, I’m admitting that I live here, not in my parents’ house anymore. The truth is I’ve never felt like The Barn was my home. But it is my parents’ home, and even though I know intellectually it’s time for me to separate from them and be my own full person, the thought is terrifying. Regardless, I’m not going to let Bob steal their things without a fight. I can’t do anything about Vasily right now, but at least I can do something about that. After I’m fed and rested, anyway.

  “So you’re living here now too?” I ask Jules, unable to help narrowing my eyes at her.

  “I stayed here while you were gone because I was freaked out but no, I haven’t moved in. You know how much I love my place.”

  I do. “Are you in my wing?” She better be in mine and not theirs.

  “I am, in a guest room.”

  “Good. And work?”

  Jules takes a bite of her scrambled eggs. “About that . . .” She looks over at me. “I’m sorry, I did everything I could, but you know how Miss Cheryl is.”

  To delay the inevitable, I reach for a slice of homemade bread and slather it with butter. It’s still warm.

  “She fired you.” Jules waits, holding her breath.

  “Even after I told her I’d be gone for a few days?” I take a bite of the bread and it actually melts in my mouth.

  “What did you expect?” Jules is frozen with her fork in midair. “You said you’d call in two, three at the most. It’s been five, Amaya.”

  “I don’t know, I thought maybe she’d give me a break.” I reach for the platter of eggs and scoop some onto my plate. If I stuff enough food in my mouth, I can stuff the panic down too.

  Jules barks out a laugh. “Have you met Miss Cheryl?”

  Unfortunately.

  “I wish I could help you,” Jules puts her hand on my arm. “If my own rent and bills weren’t so crazy . . .”

  “I know you would, but I don’t expect you to. That would make me uncomfortable.” All eyes are on us and I cross my arms over my chest.

  “You have your job here,” Arch says.

  But it’s not a proper job, is it? It’s a handout, reminding me that I suck at being an adult. Why can’t I fix any of this on my own? Why is shit so stacked against me?

  “You don’t need to work at the vectum,” Bodhi says.

  “I did hate it there.” I glance at Jules. But I loved the money.

  She laughs. “Yeah, you were an awful donor.”

  I sure was. I punch her in the arm.

  We finish eating and Jules walks me to my room.

  “I’m going to head back home, if you’re okay with that.” She leans against the doorjamb as I stand at the bathroom door.

  More than. “Of course. I need a shower and sleep.”

  “What happened to you in Tara?”

  Jules knows about my trips to the fairy land, which makes everything easier. She believes me, or at least says she does. I lick my lips and suck in some air. I’m not ready to tell her. Suddenly the name of that book pops into my head. Gulliver’s Travels. I shiver.

  She leaps across the space between us and throws her arms around me. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m just glad you’re back and in one piece.” She pulls away, holding me at arm’s length. “You are in one piece, aren’t you?”

  I push her away playfully. “Actually, bitch, my head is where my ass should be.”

  “And vice versa.” She raises an eyebrow. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  I bristle. I know this has been our usual banter for years, but after our recent fight I wonder if she’s being passive-aggressive. Maybe I’m just reading too much into it. Maybe this is her way of moving things back to a quasi-normal place.

  “I have to say,” she licks her lips, “I was genuinely concerned while you were gone but the distractions helped.”

  I growl.

  “I can look, can’t I?”

  “Looky, no touchy.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She flips her hand at me. “Whatever. I’m still not convinced you can take all five. After all, you only have three holes. Later, ho.” She blows me a kiss and trots out, not looking back. I turn away from her retreating backside and then the soft click of my bedroom door closing.

  I jump into a hot shower, scrubbing every single inch of my body, then lean back against the cool tile to let the water pour over my head.

  Is she just lying to herself, telling herself she all but moved into this house because she’s worried about me? Is she snogging them behind my back? I can’t ask her for fear she’ll lie but I could ask them. Or—I could trust. I wonder what the hell that would even feel like as I towel dry a
nd crawl into bed. Burrowing down, I yank the thick covers over my head to blot out the awful memory and the sun blaring through my windows. Time to pass the fuck out.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I sleep for most of the day but force myself up in the afternoon to visit the horses. I still have one job, which I need right now, and I use the solitude to think about what else I can do. I have a place to live, check. I have five men who adore me, even though I don’t know why, check. I have a place to crash where I can put my parents’ stuff in storage or move them here, check. But if I move them here, how am I showing them I can finally stand on my own two feet? Shit. I can’t deal with that right now too.

  What’s important right now is that I don’t have Vasily. Is he okay? Has he found his people, at least? I’ll need to get back to Tara but I don’t know if I can do it alone. I don’t want to do it alone. I brush out the horses, then let Sequoia wander around free, knowing he’s as tame as a dog. Instead, I tack up Dart, the horse they want me to ride.

  We circle the property at a slow gallop. The flowers are blooming, their fragrance stretching out to tickle my senses. Lush green shrubs dot the trails, and tall trees pepper the landscape. The warlock’s haven is more like heaven. A lush reprieve from the outside world, barred by a dragon at the gate.

  “Hey, princess.” Forrest pulls up next to me on his horse, a chestnut mare named Madrone. “We were all worried about you.”

  “I was gone for so long, I wanted to at least earn some of my keep.”

  His violet eyes shine. “You don’t have to work, you know. We’re happy if you live with us, rent-free. We’ll provide room and board, even spending money, or more if you’d like. We have plenty of cash.”