Flicker (48 page)

The cloud was composed of pieces of paper. Alice’s origami. Some were winged—the cranes and swans, the butterflies. But there were others. Whales and sailboats and four-legged
animals
. T
hey all had an opalescent sheen, gleaming faintly in the misting rain.

A pulse of magic thickened
the air surrounding Alice. Lee’s senses were still new and somewhat dulled by the lingering wetness in the air, but she felt the energy pressing against her skin as the
origami
twitched and then descended, hurtling toward Byrony
in a swarm
.

Suddenly the weeds began to twist and grow, braiding themselves together and snapping upward like whips. They swayed in place around Byrony, swatting at the origami.

Their
paper edges were sharp enough to slice clean through the slimmer weed whips, and some were clever enough to dodge them altogether. Those that made it through Byrony’s defense left bright red slices on her fair skin. Paper cuts. Then they wheeled around to come at her again.

More weeds shot upward, forming a sort of moving curtain around Byrony. And then the earth shifted beneath Lee’s feet.

Pale, vein-like roots thrust up through the mud, winding around Lee’s ankles. She jerked her feet upward, kicking them away, but they kept coming and c
oming.
Alice was engaged in a similar struggle, Lee saw when she looked up: trying to keep control of her origami while she hopped and flailed about.

The two girls stumbled backward. Roots followed them, each one thicker and stronger than the last. They were like the dead-white fingers of corpses, grabbing and gripping.

Lee’s heart pounded. Before her, the fluttering of paper was growing faint as Alice’s concentration fractured.

“Lee,” Alice shouted. “What do you have?”

“Just this.” She reached for the amulet in her pocket, but before she could reach it, another bundle of roots shot upward. Instinctively she jumped backward—and tripped, falling backward and landing on some cold and unforgiving surface.

It was a merry-go-round, she saw, when s
he’d gathered her wits
. The merry-go-round turned weakly as Lee toppled onto it.

In her haste, Alice was nearly skipping backward.

“Alice—” Lee started. But it was too late. Alice had already stumbled onto the merry-go-round beside her, and was glancing around in surprise.

Alice gripped the bars on either side of her, bracing herself to stand, when thick blades of grass stabbed upward from the damp soil and began tangling around the merry-go-round bars and the girls’ legs. Alice
kicked
against the grass, but it wound tightly around her calves and knees, pinning them together and against the lip of the merry-go-round.

As Alice bent over to try and pull the grass from her legs, more grass whipped upward, shoving the two girls back and binding their arms together behind their backs. Lee sniffled, while Alice swore heartily and began twisting about. It was a moment before she realized what Alice was really doing: reaching for something in her back pocket.

One of Alice’s hands closed around the end of a wooden knife handle, carved with runes. She managed to slide the short knife from her pocket, then stuck it sideways, the blade toward Lee, so that it was hidden by their backs.

“I—” Lee started to whisper, then closed her mouth. Squinting in concentration, she wrapped her fingers carefully around the blade.

“Hey,” Alice panted. “Bitch.”

Eyes narrowed, Byrony turned toward Alice. “The human boy called me that,” she frowned. “The one with the blue eyes. What does it mean?”

Lee kept her eyes
down, trying to look
inconspicuous.
She
was industriously sawing through the grass that bound her wrists. No new blades arose when she cut through
one
.

Finally, she sliced through the last pieces, and her hands were free. Apparently sensing this, Alice began to struggle and shout. She twisted this way and that, hollering in Old Faerie and jerking her legs as best she could.

Immediately Byrony threw up her hands and more grass spooled out to tighten Alice’s bonds. While her gaze was averted, Lee dove toward her own ankles, slashing feverishly at the grass there. The knife was sharp, and made quick work of the grass. Lee was standing up before Byrony even realized she was attempting to free herself.

Lee pressed the knife into Alice’s hands, which were already cupped and waiting to receive it, then hurled herself toward Byrony
, throwing her to the ground
. For a moment, the dryad went limp and pliant, as if all the breath had been knocked out of her. Lee darted one hand into her pocket, drawing out the metal medallion.

Byrony grabbed Lee’s arms and flipped her onto her back. Byrony straddled Lee’s chest, pinning her shoulders. Cold, sticky mud oozed around Lee. Grimacing, she curled her fin
gers around
the medallion and slapped it against one of Byrony’s arms.

The dryad’s pale, soft flesh sizzled on contact. With a yowl, Byrony whipped her arm back. Lee noted with some satisfaction that a circular patch of Byrony’s skin was bright red and blistered. It was a deep, angry burn. So she’d been right. The medallion
was
iron. She’d read it was poisonous to faeries.

Clutching the medallion defensively, Lee pushed Byrony off her and scooted backward through the mud. Footsteps pounded nearby, and then Alice was darting past her, knife raised and glinting in her hand.

Byrony was already standing again. She narrowed her eyes and a bundle of roots burst through the mud. Alice slipped and gave a little yelp of pain as her legs twisted out from under her, but she was close enough and focused enough to get a good swipe in as she fell.

A long slash was visible from Byrony’s hip to her knee. Dark red blood welled up all down its length, and the dryad clapped one hand against it. She was stunned, Lee thought. But only for a moment.

The dryad reached down, snatched the knife from Alice’s hand, and threw it as far
as she could. G
rass surged upward in great green waves, swaying in the wet wind like seaweed. For a moment, it was something like being underwater.

Before either of the girls could react, the grass began winding around their limbs. This time, the grass even tightened around their throats. Lee
clawed at her neck
as blades of grass sliced
her hands, but still more grass twisted about her arms and
pulled
them down to her sides. Soon she and Alice were lying helpless in
the mud,
twisting like fish dropped on dry land.

“You can kill me,” Lee
gasped
as Byrony stood over them, her face oddly expressionless. Her throat grew tighter with every word that passed
her lips. “You can kill me. Whatever you want
. But
let her go. ”

Bending, the dryad
growled,
“Sh
e interfered.”

With that, Alice began to choke.
G
rass
pressed
deep into the f
lesh of her throat,
the
blades tinged with red.

And Byrony was just watching. Just as she’d watched Filo. Just as she’d likely watch Lee, when she’d finished with Alice.

Tears burned in Lee’s eyes. She summoned the last of her breath and coughed out, “Umbriel would let her go.”

Byrony’s
eyes went steely. “But Umbriel,” she said, slowly and
deliberately
, “
isn’t here
.”

* * *

Lee’s eyes were squeezed shut when two sparks entered her consciousness. One was silver. One was blue. Both sparks were drawing nearer.

Her eyelids felt bruised as she peeled them open. The flesh around her neck was burning and tight and wet. A pair of bare, muddy feet was planted near her head. A trail of sticky blood flowed down one calf and ankle.

“No
,
no
,
no
,
no,” said a voice.
Filo’s voice. All around Lee, the air felt
angry.
The blue spark grew brighter, hotter. “
Alice
. Oh, you wretched—” And a long stream of foreign words.

Suddenly the pressure around her throat was not so great, and air trickled into her lungs. Some strength returned to her limbs and she found herself twisting and shifting in the mud.

“Lee!” called a voice. “Lee!”

“Nasser?” She was hoarse. Beneath her, the earth seemed to shiver. She rolled onto her stomach, and saw that more grass h
ad risen, at least six feet high
.

A veritable forest of grass was before her, with Byrony in the middle of it, and
Filo stomping through, swatting
grass
aside
with his hands. Lee could feel Nasser hustling behind him before she ever saw him. He was still calling her name.

Then both boys were standing before her. Filo looked like an animal preparing to pounce. His eyes blazed a terrible blue. Tongues of blue smoke flicked about
his clenched fists.

Beside her, Alice stirred feebly. Her eyes fluttered open with the all confusion of a princess just roused from a hundred-year sleep. She sounded dazed. “Filo?”

And then Filo moved, faster than Lee had realized he could.

* * *

As Filo dashed toward the dryad, he aimed a small push of magic and pulled her feet out from under her. She fell backward with a sharp cry. He kept going as Nasser crouched beside Lee, knife in hand, and began cutting her bonds.

Byrony only had time to throw her arms up before Filo was on top of her, pinning her in the mud with his full weight. With one hand, he wrenched the dryad’s arms away from her face. He balled the other hand into a fist and began driving it hard against her face.

Soon he was using both hands, and his knuckles were coming up bloody. His injured hand throbbed. He couldn’t remember ever hitting someone with such force or viciousness. He couldn’t remember ever being consumed by fury as raw and hot as this.

“Nasser,” he heard Lee
gasping
. “He’s going to kill her!
Nasser
.”

It didn’t matter. Several thick ropes of grass swung down, grabbed Filo beneath his arms and hurled him backward. He skidded and bounced when he hit the ground; all the air was
ripped from his lungs.

Gagging, Filo propped himself up onto his elbows. Byrony had staggered to her feet, spitting blood. Her face was already turning splotchy and purple.

The dryad clenched one fist, and one of the grass ropes whipped out of nowhere and wound around Filo’s neck. It heaved upward, dragging him to his feet, then dangling him just inches above the ground.

* * *

Lee gave a little scream as Filo was swung into the air.
As if by reflex, Nasser
dropped the knife and jumped to his fe
et. As he rushed toward Byrony
, Lee tore the
last of the grass away. She
snatched up the knife and set about cutting Alice loose.

“Come on, come on,” Alice urged her,
apparently wide awake now.

“Stop squirming,” Lee ordered. “I’m almost—”

Someone laid a hand on Lee’s forearm. Her knife hand jerked and she spun around
, heart pounding
.

A small, dark-haired girl with conical ears and almond eyes
knelt beside her. A
faery.

Without thinking, Lee raised the knife—but the girl shot out her hand and grabbed Lee’s wrist with small, strong fingers.

“No
, no
,” she soothed, attempting to take the knife from Lee. “It’s all right. Let me.”

Lee opened her mouth to protest, but Alice broke in.

“It’s fine, Lee,” Alice assured her, though she looked as surprised as Lee felt. “It’s just Tipper—just Tipper.”

Reluctantly, Lee relinquished the knife, though her mind was reeling. Who was this girl? When had she even
arrived?
Then a heavy
thump
caught her attention.

Filo, she saw
,
was sprawled on the ground, trying to get up, looking disoriented. Nasser stood frozen nearby. Even Byrony had stopped moving. It took a moment for Lee to realize why.

Filo, Nasser and Byrony
were standing in a rough sort of triangle. In the middle
of that triangle stood a
broad-shouldered man with
chin-length
white
hair. Short, curved horns jutted from his temples. He was dressed in dark pants, a crisp white
button-up and a vest. His
leather boots were flecked with mud.