creepy hollow 05 - a faerie's revenge (22 page)

“Well, in that case,” Gaius says, “there is one option that seems rather obvious to me.”

“And that is?”

“Work with Chase. Do what he does. It’s what you’re trained for after all.”

Work with Chase? I remember him suggesting the idea to me once, but we both decided it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t very well assist a vigilante while also working to uphold the Guild’s laws. But now … well, I still don’t feel comfortable with working outside the law, and even if did, I probably shouldn’t do it with the ex-Lord Draven. “No, I … I think I need to start over somewhere else.” I tap the end of my pencil against the blank page, hoping for inspiration now that I have at least a fraction of an idea for what I might do when I leave here.

Still nothing.

Aware that throwing my book a second time would make me no better than a child having a tantrum, I settle for glaring at the sketchbook instead. “I think the creative part of my brain is broken.”

“Well, until you figure out how to fix it,” Gaius says, snapping his notebook shut and sitting forward, “I have something for the rest of your brain to work on. Have you ever tried exercising your Griffin Ability?”

I frown. “Meaning …”

“Testing the limits of it. How far do your illusions extend? Is it by distance? By number of people? Have you ever tried to show two different illusions to two different people at the same time? That kind of thing.”

I remember wondering why I’d never tested my illusion ability when I was at Lucien de la Mer’s party at the top of Estellyn Tower, but I haven’t thought of it since then. Too many other things going on in my mind. “That’s a good idea, actually. I’ve spent so long simply trying to get it under control that I never thought about testing it or even … having fun with it.”

“Great, let’s do it now.” Gaius stands and walks to the other end of the room. He stops in the doorway. “We can test distance first. I’ll start here.”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“Well, go ahead then. Show me something.”

I leave the sketchbook on my chair and stand in front of the fireplace. I think for a few moments, then release my hold on the imaginary wall around my mind. I picture a floating mirror berry bush on fire. It appears in the air in front of Gaius, who grins the moment he sees it. I’m not sure what happens to mirror berries in real life if they’re burned, but in my imagination, I decide they’re going to burst. I see them exploding all over the bush, sending their purple juice flying out in all directions. Gaius jumps back, shielding his face for a moment before dropping his hands and laughing at himself.

My laughter joins his as I allow the image to vanish. “Come on, you’ve used this ability before. I could have imagined an ogre running at you with a club and you should have been able to calmly stand your ground.”

“Instinct,” he says, attempting to defend himself with a straight face. “It was pure instinct. I saw the berry juice coming and I had to protect myself.”

“Whatever you say. Okay, how far are you going now?”

Gaius moves next door to the kitchen. When I produce another burning bush illusion, he shouts to tell me he can see it. Next, he moves one floor up to where the bedrooms are. He waits at the top of the stairs and I head back to my spot by the fireplace. I picture a floating bagel this time. When I hear the laughter, I know he’s seen it.

“If only it were real,” he shouts down to me.

I run to the doorway and peer out. “Okay, go up another level to the far corner of the greenhouse. That’s quite far away, isn’t it?”

Gaius nods and disappears. I sit on the nearest couch and picture all the plants in the greenhouse burning. Then I realize that might not bring up the best memories for Gaius, so I picture rain pelting down instead. I keep the image going until I hear his footsteps on the stairs. “I didn’t see anything,” he says when he reaches the doorway. “What image were your projecting?”

“Rain. Can I try again?”

“Yes, of course. That’s what this is all about.” He hurries away.

I close my eyes so I can focus properly. I imagine holding it back, like clouds building as a storm gets ready to unleash itself. The sky darkens and the clouds swell and then …
Rain
. Everywhere. Every floor. Every room. I don’t know what’s below me, but I picture the rain in that space, and if there’s anything above the greenhouse level, I imagine the rain there too. My face scrunches up as I pour every ounce of energy into it, as if I could actually make the rain come into being.

Then I let go and flop back against the cushions. When I hear Gaius hurrying back down the stairs, I push myself up out of the chair. “Well?” I ask as he appears in the doorway.

“Were you trying to flood my greenhouse?” he demands in mock annoyance.

“Indeed I was. The whole mountain, actually.”

“Well done. You did an excellent job then.” He walks back into the living room and picks up his notebook. “We’ll have to go somewhere else in order to test the distance further.”

Hurried footsteps in the entrance hall make me turn back to the doorway. “Was that you?” Chase asks, holding a towel against one arm and looking concerned.

“Yes. Where were you?”

“Downstairs. With the gargoyles.”

“Gargoyles?” I ask, noting his use of the plural. “You have more than one?”

“All the way down there?” Gaius asks. “That’s amazing. Calla, that’s even further than the greenhouse.”

“No wonder I’m feeling tired all of a sudden,” I say with a small laugh. “Oh, but your arm,” I say to Chase, noticing something dark and wet seeping into the blue towel clutched against his arm. “What happened?”

“Oh, nothing too serious. The gargoyles reacted quite wildly to the sudden downpour, and I was standing a bit too close. But Gaius is right; that’s very impressive.”

I clasp my hands together as awkwardness creeps into the space between us. That feeling of isolation followed me back here after our visit to the Guild, and I haven’t said much to Chase since then. “Thank you. And I’m so sorry about your arm. Can I … do anything?” I’m not sure what I’d do, but I feel like I need to offer since it’s my fault he wound up clawed by a gargoyle.

“No, don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s started healing already.”

“Okay.” I look around for my sketchbook and find it on the chair I was sitting on earlier. Perhaps I can think of something to draw now. Something like exploding berries.

“Calla,” Chase says. “Would you like to see where the gargoyles are kept? I know you’re not particularly fond of them, but it could be interesting.”

“Oh, yes, all right.” Maybe a real conversation with him will help me to stop picturing him with Violet. Stupid, stupid thoughts. I should instead be picturing him as Lord Draven and reminding myself that he’s too dangerous to get close to, even if he’s a ‘good guy’ now.

We cross the entrance hall and walk around the back of the stairs where I notice, for the first time, another flight of stairs leading down. “How did you manage to see my rain projection?” I ask. “I thought you kept your mind shielded. Gaius said that’s why he couldn’t get into your dreams.”

“Most of the time I do, but not always. If I know there’s nothing I need to shield myself against mentally, then I don’t always bother.” We reach a landing with a door. Chase places his hand on it. I hear a click somewhere, and the door vanishes. There are more stairs on the other side of the door, so we continue going down. Eventually Chase asks, “Are you okay? You haven’t said much since we returned from the Guild this morning.”

“Well, to be fair, I haven’t said a great deal to you since the day of the wedding.”

“That’s true. Well, except for when you shouted at me.”

“Except for that.” We pass a floor with a wide corridor leading off in both directions and numerous closed doors. But the stairs keep going down, and so do we. I decide to be honest with Chase, since that’s our thing now. “The truth is, you and I almost had something. Something more than just friendship. And then to discover that …” I take a breath, trying to find the best way to say this so I don’t sound petty.

“Yeah,” Chase says with a resigned sigh. “The evil Lord Draven thing.”

“Well, no. I mean, yes, obviously, but I was actually referring to the fact that you and Vi—you and my
sister-in-law
—were together. It’s just strange.”

“Oh. I didn’t even think of that.”

Right. Of course I’m the only one upset by this trivial bit of information from the past.

“Why is it bothering you?” Chase asks. “That was over ten years ago. You were just …” He trails off, perhaps realizing that he’s hit on the real problem.

“Exactly,” I mutter. “Just a child.” So not only am I standing on the outside of someone else’s story looking in, I’m a
child
standing on the outside looking in. And while Chase never treated me like a child before, how can he help but see me as anything else now? And why do I even care? “But you’re right,” I add quickly. “It shouldn’t bother me. It doesn’t really. I’m just being silly.”

We reach the bottom of the stairs and Chase turns to face me. “Calla—”

“So where are these gargoyles?” I ask, looking around the bare room we’re standing in. It’s more of a cave, actually, since there are no floorboards or wooden panels covering the rough-hewn rock.

Chase decides to take the hint and drop the awkward conversation. “There’s a narrow passage over there,” he says, pointing to a tall shadow in the corner. “We keep more than just gargoyles, and we don’t want to risk any of them getting out through a door, so a passage works well. None of the creatures are small enough to fit through it.”

My heart rate kicks up a notch as I take a few steps toward the passage. It’s little more than a slit in the rock. “I think narrow is an understatement,” I say with a forced laugh. “How does anyone fit through there?”

“It’s not that bad. It barely brushes my shoulders on either side.”

His description causes a breathy laugh to escape me. No way. No. Freaking. Way. “I’m not going through there,” I tell him.

“Why? It’s really not that bad. No one’s ever got stuck in there.”

“No.”

“Come on.” He reaches for my arm. “I’ll go first and you can follow—”

“No!” I shrink away hurriedly before he can touch me, already feeling the panic rising in my chest.

“Okay.” He holds his hands up. “Okay, I’m sorry.” He looks away, but not before I see the hurt in his eyes. Hurt? As if I’m shrinking away from
him
? I should explain. I should tell him it isn’t him or his touch, it’s this stupid fear of mine, but this room is getting too small, and just looking at that narrow slice of space is making me panic.

I step past him and aim for the stairs.
Must get out
, my brain tells me.
Get out. Find space.
I run all the way back up to the entrance hall before I stop and remind myself to breathe. This is okay. It’s open and spacious and I’m not
trapped
here. I look back down the stairs, but I don’t see Chase following me. I close my eyes and breathe some more. Then I continue up to my bedroom.

I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at nothing for a while. I think of moving on and starting over in a new place, and it makes me feel empty. I think of trying to return home, and it makes me scared. The Guild probably isn’t allowed to monitor the inside of the house—I assume that would violate some kind of privacy right—but wouldn’t they find out somehow if I was hiding there? Perhaps they do random checks with a search warrant or something. But I could hide myself with an illusion then. Or get away through the faerie paths. That would leave Dad in trouble, though, if the Guild found out that I’d been there.

So. I can’t go home. I don’t want to leave here, but I don’t particularly want to stay either. If I sleep, will my subconscious figure out the answer for me?

I get up and walk to the two bags on the floor in the corner of the room. Chase took me into a shopping mall in the human realm after we left the Guild this morning so I could get some clothes. I’d been using a few laundry spells on the clothes I ran away in, but those spells never seem to work out properly for me. Not the way Mom does them. I dig through the bags until I find pajamas. They’re soft and warm and comforting, but the most important part is that they’re dark blue covered in large yellow stars, making them so similar to my favorite set at home that I almost cried when I saw them.

Hours later, instead of being lost to blissful sleep, my back-and-forth thoughts are still torturing me: The look on every Council member’s face when the recorded version of me said the words ‘Griffin Ability.’ The Guild foyer full of guardians fighting me and my imaginary dragon. Not knowing whether Gemma survived the dragon disease. That flash of hurt in Chase’s eyes.

I climb out of bed and walk to the door. He’s probably asleep, but if he isn’t, I can explain myself. He has enough to feel guilty about as it is without adding anything unnecessary to the load. The passage is almost dark now, with only one lantern lit. My feet are silent on the carpeted floor as I walk slowly, checking for light shining out beneath any of the doors. I reach the end of the passage and find that it extends around the corner. Further along, on the right, a strip of light glows at the bottom of a door.

I don’t know if the room belongs to Chase or Gaius, but if it’s Gaius who opens the door, I’ll just apologize and go back to bed. I walk the last few steps toward the door and tap lightly against it. I hear movement inside, then quiet footsteps. The door opens, and Chase stands there, looking surprised to see me. He’s still in his clothes, but they’re rumpled and creased, as though he may have fallen asleep in them at some point. His hair is on the messy side, but, considering I spent the past few hours tossing in my bed, my hair probably looks a lot worse.

“Hi,” he says. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, um … I just wanted to apologize for earlier. My mini freak-out downstairs. It didn’t have anything to do with you.”

With a small frown, he says, “Okay.”

I tuck my hair behind my ears, mainly so that my hands have something to do. I’m starting to feel silly now, as though I’ve been worrying for nothing. Perhaps I imagined the hurt I saw in his eyes earlier. He’s probably forgotten the incident already, and here I am making a big enough deal out of it to get up in the middle of the night in my pajamas and come and apologize. “Uh, anyway, I’ll just—”