A Faerie's Secret (Creepy Hollow Book 4) (14 page)

Gemma’s expression turns thoughtful. “I can’t imagine ever leaving.”

“Me neither.” I duck so I don’t walk into a procession of silver spiders crossing the path on a single silver thread. “Anyway, parents are boring. Tell me about this Seer you have a crush on.”

“Oh.” Gemma grins down at her feet. “His name is Rick. He’s good-looking and smart and funny and kind and just generally all-around perfect. He’s been girlfriend-less for four whole months, and I don’t know why because
all
the Seer girls want to be with him.”

“Well, maybe he’s Seen
you
in his future,” I say, nudging her arm with my elbow and wondering how many Seers have used that pick-up line.

She groans. “I doubt it. That’s not what he’s trained to See. I mean, sure, Seers are born with the ability to See pretty much anything in the future, but that’s why those who work for the Guild have so much training. They have to learn to hone their skills so they See the dangerous stuff that’s coming, not the frivolous stuff. That’s their focus, and all their magic goes into that. He probably doesn’t have much magic left to See visions of his relationship future.”

“Maybe he’s powerful enough to—Oh!” I grab a hanging vine as my boots skid sideways, almost sending me off the edge of the uneven path.

“Careful, that part’s slippery,” Gemma says, turning back and catching my hand.

“Uh huh.” I step over the smooth, shiny patch of bark and aim for the rough parts that provide a better grip for my shoes. “Anyway. I was saying maybe he’s powerful enough to See both the dangerous stuff and the frivolous stuff like his love life.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d
want
to know that kind of thing ahead of time, if it were me. Takes the thrill out of it, you know? And Rick’s just a regular Seer, not super powerful or anything, so I’m sure all his magic goes into Seeing for the Guild.” She plucks one of the few remaining green leaves from a branch and twirls it between her fingers. “Did you know that the more powerful a Seer is, the further into the future he or she can See? Rick said his great-grandfather once Saw an attack fifty years before it happened. Guardians found the faerie who was going to do it. He was still a little kid, and it turned out his parents were abusive. The Guild got involved, the kid ended up with a new family, and fifty years later, the attack never happened.”

“That’s amazing. I wonder how many other events changed because the Guild intervened in that boy’s life.”

“Countless events, I’m sure. The future is always changing. You know how it is with some of our assignments. We’ll show up after being given the brief about what’s supposed to happen, and then it never does.”

“Really? That’s happened to you?”

“Yes. It means something else has changed, which in turn affected the event I was supposed to be changing.” She looks at me and frowns. “I think. It’s all rather complicated. Sometimes I glaze over when Rick tries to explain stuff.”

“That’s because you’re probably staring at his perfect eyes or his perfect lips or some other perfect feature of his.”

She attempts to look affronted, but then dissolves into giggles. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”

As our laughter subsides, I remember a question I’ve always had when thinking about the Seeing ability. “Sometimes I wonder why the Seers never saw the Destruction coming.”

“Ugh, yeah, you and everyone else. Rick and I almost had a fight over that issue because apparently
everyone
asks the Seers that, and they’re tired of it. It’s the only time he’s ever been upset with me.”

“But did he have an answer for you? Does he know why they didn’t See it coming?”

“Apparently someone from Draven’s special army, one of the first people who ended up on the Griffin List after Draven’s reign ended, was a woman who could block visions. The Seers always say that Draven was using her to block their vision of what was coming.”

“Oh, okay. Uh, what’s your opinion on the Griffin List?” I ask casually.

Gemma lets out a long sigh and drops the leaf off the edge of the path. “The Griffin List is stupid. I mean, think about it. These people and their special magic have existed for centuries and they’ve never bothered anyone before. It wasn’t their fault Prince Marzell rounded them up into an almost unstoppable army. They were under his and Draven’s control just as much as any other magical being. But then the Guild comes along and has to give labels to everything—Griffin abilities, Gifted people—and order everything on a registry the way they do for halflings, most of whom are also harmless. It’s just ridiculous.”

“I agree,” I say, “but on the other hand, you can kinda see the point of the list, can’t you? Some of these Griffin Abilities are really dangerous.”

“Well, yes, there are some dangerous ones, but that doesn’t mean the people who own them are dangerous. It’s just …” She hesitates, gathering her thoughts. “Criminals come in all shapes and sizes and races, from all kinds of backgrounds, and with all kinds of magic.
Anyone
could be a criminal, not just one of the Gifted. So why treat them differently?”

I’m liking this girl more and more. “That makes complete sense to me. If only the rest of the world saw it that way.”

“I know. But you can’t argue too much about it otherwise people start to think
you’re
Gifted.”

“Yeah.” I start thinking this is probably a good time to head home. It’s great that Gemma and I are in agreement about the Griffin List, but if we continue talking about it for much longer, I might end up giving something away. “I think I should probably get home.”

“Me too,” she says. “This is around about where I usually go into the faerie paths. My house is nearby, but it’s easier to take the paths than climb down all those stairs.”

We say goodbye and exchange a semi-awkward hug. Then I open up a doorway and walk into it. Instead of taking the faerie paths straight into my bedroom, I come out by one of the waterfalls near my home. We live in Carnelian Valley now. It isn’t a natural forested area like Creepy Hollow or Woodsinger Grove. The trees were planted specifically to be used as faerie homes. They’re arranged in concentric circles around a system of eight interlinked lakes at the base of the valley. It’s supposedly an expensive and highly sought-after area. Ryn said Dad must have pulled some serious strings to get a house here so quickly after Mom chose this area.

I stand with my hands on my hips and survey the area, comparing it to the forest I just walked though. The lakes and cascading waterfalls are beautiful, but there’s nothing appealing to me about the perfect circles of trees rising up the sides of the valley. I’d far rather have a home in the tangled forest of Creepy Hollow.

I head away from the water. As I near our tree, I notice someone sitting on the ground beside it. I stop and take a closer look. The moment I recognize him, I feel that familiar jolt in my stomach. Not as strong as it used to be, though. I think I’m getting over my silly crush.

“What are you doing here, Zed?” I ask as I stride toward him.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says as he stands. “I wanted to check on you.”

“So you decided to lurk outside my home? I’m surprised my dad hasn’t come out here to find out who you are and what you want.”

“Oh, I’ve met your parents already. I told them I’m one of the training instructors at the Guild and that I came by to organize a schedule for the extra training you requested. They said you weren’t home yet, so I told them I’d wait outside.”

I blink, then drop my bag on the ground and cross my arms. “So you didn’t come by to explain why you were hanging out with the drakoni who wanted to kill me?”

“Look, I didn’t realize he was such a guardian hater. I only just met the guy. He’s part of a group of people with … well, similar interests.”

“Similar interests?”

“Yes, it’s …” Zed scratches his head. “We’re all survivors who were locked up in Prince Zell’s dungeon back before the Destruction. It’s like … a support group.”

“A support group? Now you’re just making things up.”

“I’m not, Calla. There really is a group. I don’t know how these guys found each other, but they did, and now they’ve found me.”

“Well … that’s great.”

“What happened last night when you vanished?” Zed asks, stepping closer to me. “That was really weird.”

“Oh, that was nothing. Not a big deal.” I step past him and write a doorway onto the wide tree that conceals my home.

“Are you sure? Because you looked seriously—”

“I’m sure. It was just one of my illusions. I made everyone think I had disappeared. But then I couldn’t hold onto it because, um …” A jolt passes through me. Ripples radiate away from me. “Oh no.” I spin around and reach for Zed, but everything vanishes.

I find myself standing in the same scene I was in earlier. Zed is sitting beside younger me on the couch in the cafe, and younger me is saying, “… so glad you got out of there. I always wondered what happened to you. My brother said the Guild would rescue everyone, but I never knew for sure that they did.”

“No!” I shout. I’m not supposed to be traveling through time anymore. I’m nowhere near that stupid bangle. Why is it still affecting me?

“They didn’t rescue us,” Zed tells younger me.

“What? But then how did you get out? Did you … oh my goodness, did you have to fight for Draven? Did he brainwash you?”

I slide my fingers through my hair and tug at it.
Take me back to the present. Back to the present. BACK TO THE PRESENT, DAMMIT!

“No,” Zed says. “They had to take us out of our cages to mark us, and that’s when some of us got away. It was … well, I won’t tell you how we did it because it was pretty gruesome. We were desperate. We knew by then that the Guild was never coming.”

“It wasn’t the Guild’s fault, okay?” I shout at Zed as he continues telling my younger self how he decided never to return to the Guild. “It’s complicated with the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. The Guild can’t just go charging in wherever they like. They probably would have started a war a whole lot sooner if they’d ignored all the laws, and you
know
that.”

The scene vanishes along with that sudden rushing sound I’m becoming accustomed to. The nausea and dizziness hit me the moment I’m jolted back into Carnelian Valley. I try to steady myself against the tree and find the doorway into my home still open.

“What was that?” Zed demands. “What just happened?”

“H-how long was I gone?” I ask between deep gasps of air.

“I don’t know. Two or three seconds, like last night. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” I push him away and drag myself and my bag inside. The doorway closes, and I drop into the nearest armchair. I lean forward and place my head between my knees.
Don’t be sick, don’t be sick, don’t be sick.

“Hey, sweetie,” Mom calls from the kitchen. “Did you see that instructor outside?”

I take another deep breath and say, “Yeah, I spoke to him.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re home. Dinner will be ready soon, and you need plenty of food to keep your strength up for all this extra training.”

“Terrific,” I murmur, tilting my head back and closing my eyes. I only need one thing right now, and food isn’t it.

I need the tattoo artist.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

After Mom and Dad have gone to bed, I get dressed and open a doorway. I know exactly what the inside of the tattoo artist’s living room looks like, so I focus on that as I walk into the darkness. As light appears, I hurry forward, but I’ve barely left the faerie paths when I feel myself falling, spinning, twisting. I grasp desperately at the air as my body is flung about by an invisible force and a banshee screech wails in my ears. When my surroundings have finally become a slowly swaying landscape rather than a topsy-turvy jumble, I realize I’m hanging upside down.

“What … what the freak?” I gasp.

The screeching stops, and a voice behind me says, “Well, I’m glad to see my intruder alarm is working.” An invisible force swings me the right way up and deposits me on top of the couch. “I should probably thank you for alerting me to the small flaw in my security system,” the tattoo artist says. He leans on the back on an armchair and surveys me. The tips of his fingers are smudged with black. Ink? Paint? Charcoal? I can’t tell from here. “So, Calla. I’m assuming you’ve had a change of heart since this afternoon?” he says.

“Actually,” I say carefully, “I need your help. The time travel thing … it’s happening even when I’m not wearing the bangle.”

He closes his eyes and sighs. “I told you not to put it on.”

“No. You found me
after
I’d put it on and then asked what was wrong with me. Now there really
is
something wrong with me, and I have no idea how to make it stop.”

“And you think I can help you.”

“Well, you seemed to know what it was going to do to me.”

He nods slowly. “I did.”

I wait for him to tell me whether he knows how to fix me or not, but he says nothing. “Okay, how about this,” I say. “If you can help me, I’ll give you back the bangle.” That might not be possible anymore, but he doesn’t need to know that. Yet.