A Faerie's Secret (Creepy Hollow Book 4) (33 page)

With no chance to land properly, I feel the left side of my body slamming into the ground. I cry out in pain, but there’s no time to wait for it to subside. I slide my hand into my right boot and feel for the sheath—and Dad’s knife is there! I pull it out, slash at the vine, and roll away from it. I push myself up and see Saber jumping across the stream.

I turn and run. I run and run and run, and I’m
so
tired, but I have to keep going. I can see the end of this side of the prison, and I know I’ll turn the corner soon. Maybe there’ll be somewhere I can hide. Some place I can duck into before Saber sees where I’ve gone. Another hole, or a ladder, or stairs.
Something.

I turn the corner—and see a solid stone wall ahead of me.
Dammit!
I keep running, but I veer to the right. The wall encircling the edge of the island is lower than the one ahead of me, and the crumbling stones would provide footholds here and there. If I can get onto that wall, then I can walk along it and—

A laugh behind me tells me it’s too late. I swing around, holding up my knife. It’s the only protection I’ve got. I’m not even wearing my protective vest under my clothing. Right now, the one time I
really
need that vest, it’s sitting inside my training bag at the Guild. But it’s useless to think of it now when all I have to rely on is the knife.
You can do this
, I tell myself as I tighten my shaking grip on the carved handle.
You don’t need guardian weapons. You don’t need magic. You can do this.

“One knife,” Saber says, “and nothing else.” He laughs again. “This should be easy.”

We’ll see about that.

I swap the knife to my left hand. I lower myself to a crouch, grab a flat stone with sharp, broken edges, and throw it at him the way I would a throwing star. It catches the edge of his shoulder as he jerks away. I reach for a small, round one and hurl it at his head. It strikes the left side of his brow, leaving a gash. With a cry of anger, he flings magic at me. His sparks shoot through the air and form flames by the time they’ve reached me. I dive out of the way, fall into a shoulder roll, and let the momentum carry me back onto my feet.

Then, since I can’t run away from him, I hurtle straight toward him. I see him tense and bend his knees slightly, getting ready to flip me over his shoulder.
Not gonna happen.
At the last second, I force all my energy into a jump, bring both knees up to my chest as I sail toward him, and kick as hard as I can. He hits the ground, and I land on the other side of him. He groans and coughs and climbs to his feet, but I’m ready with a side kick that sends him stumbling backward. I advance on him, slashing with my knife when he tries to jump at me.

With a grunt of anger, he pushes hard at the air between us. A pulse of magic slams into me, sending me flying backward through the air. All breath is knocked from my lungs as I hit the ground. Struggling to suck in air, I push myself up onto shaky legs. My spurt of adrenaline-infused energy is fading fast.

“Come on, I can do this all day,” Saber calls, taunting me.

I can’t, and he knows that. But I have a knife. A knife I know exactly how to throw thanks to the hours of torturous practice Olive put me through yesterday. Even my dreams were filled with knife-throwing last night.

Another spark shoots toward me, and I duck down to avoid it. “Do you want to keep dancing for a while longer?” Saber shouts. “Or shall we end this now?”

Let’s end this now.
I pinch the knife handle between my thumb and forefinger. I raise my hand, then bring it down fast. The knife spins—and hits its target. Deep in Saber’s chest, right where his heart is. He lets out a gasp of shock. He clutches at his chest, then falls onto his knees. He wraps his hand around the knife and tugs it from his body before slumping onto the ground.

He isn’t dead. I know that much. Stab wounds don’t kill faeries unless they’re so bad the body’s magic can’t heal them before the magic runs out. If I leave Saber, he’ll recover. What I should probably do—what Olive would tell me to do—is run over there and finish the job while he’s down. A few well-aimed stabs to the head. That would certainly kill him.

The thought makes me sick.

I don’t ever want to end another life again.

All I want is to get away from here, and now that Saber’s down, I can do just that. I turn and run back the way I came as fast as my exhausted limbs will carry me. My magic-free body is fading fast, but I’m not ready to give up yet. I need to find a way back into this prison so I can get help. The guards will help me, won’t they? I’m not a criminal. Even if they decide to lock me up while they contact the Guild, at least I’ll be far from Saber. Unless he recovers quickly and comes into the prison looking for me.

“Hey!”

The shout comes from behind me. I spin around. Saber is running toward me with difficulty, as if every step is a great effort. He slows to a halt. He raises my knife. And he throws it at me.

A cry escapes my lips as the knife pierces my abdomen. I stumble backward a step or two. I look down in horror, barely able to believe that this weapon—
my
weapon—is protruding from my body. I watch a dark wetness seep into my clothing around the knife hilt.

I am going to die.

I raise my eyes and see Saber lurching toward me. He lifts his hand. Fiery sparks shoot from his fingers, and this time I have no hope of dodging them. They strike my chest, just below my right shoulder, and knock me backward onto the ground. My head hits something hard, and the sharp throbbing pain mixes with the searing ache from my chest until everything is just pain and dizziness and nausea.

A shadow passes over me, blocking out the spinning grey sky for a moment. But then Saber steps into my line of vision and I realize the shadow must have been him. He looks down at me. “You should have finished me off when you had the chance,” he says. Then he bends and picks me up. He walks toward the wall—

“No,” I whisper.

—and he throws me over.

I let out a wordless cry as I fall. The air sizzles and flashes around me as I pass through a layer of something invisible. I tumble and spin, grasping at the air as if I could catch onto it. Clawing, snatching, clutching—and then I see a spark leaving my fingertips.

Magic?

But whatever it is, it’s too late, because swooping shadows are darkening the edges of my vision and waves are rushing toward me and—

Something grabs me before I hit the water, shocking the breath out of me once more. My toes skim the waves before I’m suddenly rising instead of falling. There’s an arm around my waist, just above the knife, and a grey, leathery wing flapping beside me.

Jarvis?

“Hang on!” shouts a familiar voice.

This is a dream. It must be. I’ve hit the water and I’m dying and my final thoughts are of Chase and his gargoyle appearing at the exact moment I need them most. Darkness and dizziness fight to claim me. The jerky flying sensation starts to feel as though it’s happening in slow motion.

Everything speeds up again as we come to a sudden halt. Arms cradle me, and my face is pressed against Chase’s neck, and he’s whispering something I can’t hear properly. Something desperate, something pleading.

Then I’m lying on a hard surface. A hard surface that rocks gently from side to side. “Get us out of here,” Chase shouts to someone. His face appears above me, anxiety twisting his features. “Calla? Can you hear me?”

With the pain and the dizziness and the darkness that wants to pull me under, I find it takes great effort to force words out of my mouth. “How did you … know I was …”

“I didn’t,” Chase says. His eyes dart across my chest. I feel his hand on my shoulder. “But I knew Gaius was here. Tracking device inside his watch. The signal disappeared once he was inside the prison, but I knew where he was by then.” He tugs my sleeve back and wraps both hands around my arm.

“Did you … find him?”

“Don’t worry about him. You’re going to be fine, okay? You can easily heal from this. I’m boosting your body’s magic right now.”

“But I have … none … to boost. He took it all.”

“What?” Chase’s anxious expression turns to alarm.

“Gaius … took it.” He took it all. But I saw a spark, didn’t I? Or did I imagine that?

“That doesn’t matter,” Chase says, but I can see the fear in his eyes. “I’m giving you magic now. You’re going to be fine.” He lifts my arm and kisses my hand, and his lips are as warm as the magic I can feel flowing into me. “You have to be. You’re supposed to be around for a long time still. It is
not
your time to leave the world.”

I nod and let my eyelids slide shut. The pain is easing, giving way to a deep weariness. Sleep beckons, and I’m happy to let it take me. Then I can forget everything that’s happened since—

Mom.

“Mom,” I say out loud, managing to rouse myself enough to open my eyes. “They have her … in … the mulberry house.”

“Okay,” Chase says, removing one hand from my arm and cupping my cheek. “I’ll find her. I’ll get her back.”

With that weight lifted from me, I let myself sink back into the darkness.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

I can tell from the smell that I’m lying in a healing institute. Memories of my encounter with Amon and my fight with Saber flash across the back of my eyelids, scenes painted with desolation and pain and thoughts of death that tear into my mind’s canvas. I wait a while, allowing myself time to wipe the images away with an imaginary cloth.

My canvas is clean. Whole.

I am alive.

I lift my eyelids and find myself in a bed exactly like the one Mom was in. After blinking a few times, I turn my head to the side and see the elf girl from Wickedly Inked sitting on the stool beside the bed. Before I can say anything, she leans closer to me and tells me the story she’s apparently told everyone else: She was on her way to Velazar Prison to visit someone and passed a boat that had just left. I was in the boat, and I was fighting two men. Using an oar, she surprised them and knocked them out of the boat, then rescued me. She sailed as quickly as possible to where the faerie paths could be accessed, and brought me straight to the healing wing at the Creepy Hollow Guild.

I push myself up in the bed, feeling a hundred times better than the last time I was awake. “So you want me to lie?”

“For that part of the story, yes. You can tell the truth about everything else.” She stands up. “Well, goodbye.”

“Wait. Where’s Chase? Was he here?”

“No. If he were able to be here, there would be no need for you to lie about the last part of your story.”

“Has he found my mother?”

“I don’t know. I’m going now. Your family will be back soon.” Without another word, she slips away between the curtains.

I immediately push back the blanket and climb out of bed. Peeking beneath the stiff patient gown at my abdomen, I find that the knife wound is perfectly healed. Chase must have given me a lot of magic. I cross the enclosed area and stick my head out between the curtains. I don’t see anyone I recognize in the corridor.

“Miss Larkenwood!” Startled, I look the other way and see a woman healer hurrying toward me. “Please get back into bed,” she says.

“But I’m fine. Is my brother around?”

“Why don’t you get back into bed, and I’ll have a look in the waiting area for you.”

“But I don’t need to be in bed anymore. I’m fine. I’m just taking up space you could be using for another patient.”

“Miss Larkenwood.” She ushers me back through the curtains. “You arrived here yesterday evening with severely low levels of magic. You might feel fine, but I highly doubt your magic has fully replenished itself yet. In order for that to happen, you need to rest.” She points at the bed. I roll my eyes and walk back to it.

“Cal, you’re awake.”

I turn around before reaching the bed and see Ryn pushing the curtain aside. I run back past the healer and into his arms. “Is Dad here?” I ask as he hugs me tightly. “Do you know anything about Mom?”

Ryn steps back. “Dad’s having a shouting match with the manager of the healing wing, and I’ve heard nothing about your mom yet. What happened? Dad was gone, so I was the one who got the notification yesterday about your mother going missing. Then no one could find you either. Not even Vi.” He hesitates for a second, his eyes flicking to the healer, but he hasn’t said enough to give away Violet’s Griffin Ability. “Then an elf arrived here last night with you and a story about Velazar Prison. What’s—”

“Mr. Larkenwood, please let your sister lie down,” the healer interrupts. “She needs her—”

“—rest, I know,” I finish for her, climbing back into the bed. “Can I talk while I’m sitting down, or is that not restful enough?”

The healer makes an irritated noise at the back of her throat and leaves in a huff. Since she didn’t answer my question, I assume I’m allowed to talk. I tell Ryn about the two men who showed up while I was visiting Mom yesterday morning, about waking up on the way to Velazar Prison, and about being forced in front of a prisoner who was a spy for Prince Zell and Lord Draven. I tell him everything, leaving out any reference to the time traveling ability Saber had, and then end with the elf’s version of the story. It doesn’t matter too much that it isn’t the version that actually happened; the end result is still the same. I was rescued, Saber and Marlin got away, and they took Gaius with them.