A Faerie's Curse (Creepy Hollow #6) (12 page)

“In the meantime,” Gaius continues, “we now have a drawing of what my friend remembers of the dungeons beneath the Seelie Palace. I just need to ask Chase if he can see anything from his cell so we can attempt to figure out exactly where he's being kept.” He looks at me.

“Oh, right.” I feel in my back pocket for the telepathy ring and hand it to Gaius. I think of the way I shouted—silently—at Chase earlier, and the ache in my chest throbs more painfully. After a moment, Gaius removes the ring and leaves it on his desk. “No reply. Must be sleeping. I'll try again later. Calla, if you need to be with your family right now, I completely understand. There's nothing else for you to do here at the moment.”

I nod and leave the room, but I don't head back to Creepy Hollow. I can't face Ryn, and I know I'm the last person he wants to see. I walk downstairs, intending to go to the gym to take out my feelings on a punching bag, but I find myself continuing further down. A punching bag won't help. A workout won't help. No exercise can distract my mind from the ache in my chest and the guilt-beast stalking my thoughts. The only true distraction is the one thing I never want to face: my phobia.

C
HAPTER

T
HIRTEEN

I forget about Victoria. I forget about the supposed curse. I forget about the three very firm goals I now have: rescue Chase, stop Angelica from tearing down the veil, and make sure Zed and the witches pay for what they've done.

I stand in the stone room at the very bottom of the mountain's stairs and peer into the narrow slice of space in the corner. I see nothing but darkness. I step back, shake my arms, and jump up and down a few times as I prepare myself for this. I force myself to breathe in slowly as I close my eyes. Immediately, everything I've tried to block out threatens to come rushing back. I visualize myself rolling every worry and thought into a great big boulder. A boulder I then push to the edge of my thoughts where I can no longer focus on it.

Then I picture my lake. My calm and peaceful place. The water nudges at grassy banks and a refreshing breeze skims across my skin. I breathe out slowly. I open my eyes and face the crevice in the wall. I step toward it, take another breath, embrace the rising panic, and run into the darkness. The tunnel is endless. In the utter darkness, I have to put my hands up to feel the walls—the walls that are pressing ever closer—so I don't trip. A squeal rises at the back of my throat, escaping in a rush of breath when I finally see light up ahead. I push myself faster … faster … and then I'm free.

I slow to a halt and look around in shock as I remember how to breathe. I'm standing in a cavernous space more vast than anything I ever imagined when I pictured this area. Like a wildlife park, it's divided into different sections. Part of it is a jungle, part of it is nothing more than rocks, and at intervals along the walls are openings to smaller caves. In the distance, I see a sandy desert patch, and off to one side, a collection of weatherworn towers and turrets. Movement fills the space. Gargoyles and dragons and—is that a nascryl? As my eyes dart around, I note the most important feature: not a single fence or enclosure in sight.

“Oooookay,” I breathe, stepping back and flattening myself against the wall. At the sound of a snarling roar, I whip my head to the side. A dragon has noticed me. A dragon covered in glistening green and purple scales, and with jaws wide enough to encompass my entire body. The dragon takes one step toward me, its giant, clawed foot sending a shudder through the rocky ground. Silence descends upon the cave. Every creature looks my way. For a single heartbeat, nothing moves. Then the dragon dives toward me, along with at least twenty other creatures.

I fling myself into the tunnel, which feels like safety now instead of a threat, and hurtle along it, expecting to feel claws ripping into me at any second. I reach the other side and catch myself against the stairway banister. I scramble up the first few stairs before turning around to watch the tunnel, waiting with heaving breaths for something to claw its way through.

Nothing happens. After several long moments, my shaky legs lower me onto the step. I swallow and close my eyes as adrenaline slowly works its way out of my system. Running into that cave without knowing what to expect probably wasn't the most sensible thing I've ever done, but it definitely tore my thoughts firmly away from the heartache of the past day.

Heartache that's slowly returning.

I drag myself back upstairs. I find that in the brief absence of my pain, I'm actually hungry. It's nearing dinner time, but I don't want to sit at a table with other people and have to make conversation. I rummage through the available food and find something small to eat, which I consume as I slowly walk upstairs to Gaius's greenhouse. I pluck some leaves from a herb I've seen my mother incorporate in many of her sleeping potions. Back in my room, I rub them across my pillow before climbing into bed. The scent alone won't be nearly as effective as taking a potion, but it's hopefully strong enough to send me into oblivion for a few hours. If I'm lucky, I'll be too drugged to have to confront my nightmares.

* * *

The herb's scent is gone by morning, but I don't remember my dreams, so it must have done its job. Leaning over to pick up the ancient piece of amber next to my bed, I'm filled with both dread and relief when I see a message on the amber's rough surface. Even if Ryn hates me, at least he hasn't stopped communicating. I rub my eyes and read the message—and find that it isn't from him.

The ceremony for Victoria will be held this evening beside the Infinity Falls. Zinnia

Great. Ryn definitely doesn't want to hear from me if he's given the amber to his mother. I roll out of bed and automatically call Chase's name before remembering I don't have the ring on. Silence permeates the upper levels of the mountain, so presumably Gaius is still in bed. I walk into his study and retrieve the ring from his desk. I speak Chase's name over and over as I use the bathing room and get dressed, but he must be sleeping.

As the hours of the day pass by and Victoria's ceremony grows closer, my mind is continually met by silence. “I still can't get hold of him,” I tell Gaius, fighting the panic trying to wrap itself around my chest and squeeze all the air out of me. “What if … what if he's …”

“Leave the ring with me,” Gaius says gently, patting my arm. “It's time for you to go, and you shouldn't be worrying about this while you're with your family.”

“You know I'll worry about it any—”

“Don't.” He takes my hand and pulls the ring off. “Put it from your mind now. You can speak with Chase for as long as you want when you get back later.”

If he's still alive
, I add silently.

I swallow the terrifying thought as I walk downstairs. In less than a minute, I'm through the lake house, through the faerie paths, and walking into the late afternoon sun near the Neverending River. I squint up at the sky, wondering how the sun could dare show her face at a time as sad as this. It should be raining. All of nature should be pouring out its tears, mourning this tragedy.

I move closer to the group of fae gathered on the banks of the river but remain out of sight amongst the trees. I don't want to catch the attention of any of the Guild members who are here. I could use my Griffin Ability to hide myself and get closer to the proceedings, but the witch's words ring clearly in my mind:
The more you use your special ability, the weaker you'll become.
I don't know how much strength I'll need for the Seelie Palace mission when the time comes to rescue Chase, but I don't want to spend any of that strength if I don't have to. I tell myself that this is one of my reasons for not approaching Ryn—along with the possibility of accidentally revealing myself and getting him into trouble—but I know the only real reason is fear. I'm terrified of what he might say to me. Terrified that his words might confirm just how much he blames me for his child's death.

I can't see his or Violet's faces as they place the fully wrapped bundle into a small canoe. All I hear are sobs and sniffles from the gathered fae as they place the canoe in the water and watch it float magically upstream toward the Infinity Falls. Natesa, Vi's reptiscillan friend, clings to her husband and whispers how unfair it is that something so awful could happen to such wonderful people. Nearby, Zinnia murmurs to someone else that by the time she got to the house yesterday, the baby didn't even look like Victoria anymore. That there was something grotesque and unnatural about the little body left behind in the wake of whatever magic took her. I move further away into the trees, my mind conjuring up horrifying images that will plague my nightmares later.

No one hangs around too long after the ceremony is over. They're all heading to Zinnia's house, based on the murmurs I've heard. I could go there too. I could keep myself concealed until it's safe to speak to Ryn and Vi. But I know I'll be too afraid to say a single word to them.

I flinch as a light pressure touches my shoulder, but, twisting my head to the side, I find nothing more threatening than a small, furry shape sitting there. “Hey, Filigree,” I whisper. “What are you doing here?” I lift his little mouse form off my shoulder and place him on the nearest tree branch. “I'm going home now—my home, not yours—so you need to get back to Vi.” He shakes his furry little head and takes a flying leap back onto my shoulder. “What's wrong? Is it …” I swallow. “Is it too sad there?” He nestles against my neck. “Look, I don't know what to say. I can't take you back with me. You don't belong to me, you—Ow!” His little paws dig into my earlobe. “So … you want to come with me? Is that it?” He doesn't move. “Okay, fine. I—I'll just have to send Ryn a message to tell him where you are.” Filigree, of course, says nothing to that.

I arrive back at the mountain with renewed determination to find the witches. Or Zed. Perhaps I can risk an illusion strong enough and terrifying enough to force his location out of someone working at Club Deviant. Or I can go to Elizabeth and ask if she knows of a spell that can locate the witches. I don't care that it's dangerous to go after them. If it's something that might make up, even in some small part, for what I've done to my brother, I'll risk it.

With Filigree still on my shoulder, I look into Gaius's study. It's empty, though, and I don't see the telepathy ring on his desk. I walk down the passage. As I pass my bedroom, a low hum reaches my ears. I turn back and look around the door with a frown. It can't be the amber. It's so old it doesn't even—Oh, the mirror. Of course.

I hurry into my room and grab the small mirror Perry gave me a few days ago. Filigree leaps off my shoulder and onto the bed as I touch the mirror's surface and watch Perry's grinning face swim into focus. He waggles his eyebrows and says, “Want to know what the secret inner circle of the Guild Council is up to? Get your butt over to the Guild right now, and you can see for yourself.”

C
HAPTER

F
OURTEEN

I'm not thrilled about sneaking into the Guild, but Perry's discovery sounds too important to miss. I grab a shoulder-length wig of black and pink hair from the costume closet and make my way to the Guild's library as quickly as I can, aware of every second of Griffin Ability use. I release my illusion the moment I reach the back corner of the library where Perry is waiting.

“I'm so sorry” are the first whispered words out of his mouth. “I am so, so sorry. I didn't know about your niece until just now when Gemma told me. I shouldn't have called you. If you need to be with family right now or—”

“No. I …” I might need my family, but they certainly don't want me around at the moment. “It's fine. I don't … I don't really want to think about it, so the distraction will be good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. So what was the urgency all about? What do you want me to see?”

“Oh, right. Come on.” He motions for me to follow him to a door I've never noticed at the back of the library. “I got stuck with storeroom reorganization duty on Friday afternoon because of some homework I didn't finish.” He opens the door and ushers me into a dark room, pulling the door shut before I can get a good look at what's inside. He snaps his fingers and raises a single flame above his palm. In the flickering light, I see desks and tables piled neatly on top of each other and shelf after shelf filled with boxes of cards.

“You organized all this?” I ask.

“Yeah. And I wasn't allowed to use magic. Oh, and don't make a noise on the floor, okay? Tiptoe.” He leads me between the desks toward the back of the room. “Anyway,” he continues in a whisper. “I was looking for my sound drops this afternoon and couldn't find them. I last used them while I was tidying in here, so I came to look for them, and …” He crouches down. “Do you hear that?”

I lower myself to the floor and listen. “Voices? From beneath us?”

“Yes,” he whispers. “And if you look behind you and to the right, you'll see none other than a hole that leads straight into the room below.”

I twist around and see a beam of light shining up from a roughly circular hole. I crawl toward it and lower my face until it's almost touching the floor. “No way,” I whisper, looking down at the group of guardians gathered in a small but comfortably furnished room below. I count ten sitting in a circle around a coffee table, but I recognize only three of them: Head Councilor Bouchard from the French Guild, Councilor Merrydale, and Olive, my ex-mentor. The other seven guardians—assuming they're guardians; some of them have covered their wrists so I can't see if they have guardian markings—must be from other Guilds.

“… get it up and running, we won't have to worry about incidents like this again,” Councilor Merrydale says to the group.

“I should hope not,” Head Councilor Bouchard says in that precise, accented tone I remember from when I was unfortunate enough to meet him on my first official day here. “It is distressing to think you may have an invisible Gifted fae running around this Guild unseen. Who knows what such a person could get up to.”

Crap, they're talking about me.

“You said you didn't see this person's face?” asks a woman with hair shaved so close to her scalp I can barely make out the two different colors.

“Unfortunately not. I reviewed the recording after I failed to find the intruder. The person was definitely female, but I was unable to see her face.”

“What if it wasn't an intruder?” the woman suggests. “It may be that one of your guardians here is an unregistered Gifted person.”

“That's also a possibility,” Councilor Merrydale says. “In fact, we probably have more than one unregistered Gifted faerie working here, as do the rest of you at your various Guilds.”

“It's disgraceful to think of,” someone else says, shaking his head. “Guardians working for the law while breaking it every day. You'd think they wouldn't be able to live with themselves while lying to us like that.”

“Well, they do,” Olive says with a bored sigh. “Hence the work that's going on downstairs.” She leans back in her armchair and crosses one leg over the other. “Can we move on to the next item, Head Councilor?”

Her disrespect stuns me, but Head Councilor Bouchard doesn't seem to notice. He consults a scroll in his hand. “Hmm. Well, there is, of course, the Lord Draven matter, but as was the case with our last few meetings, the Seelie Queen has shared no new information.”

A jolt of surprise shoots through me. These must be the Guild members Angelica negotiated with.

“Probably a good thing,” the shaved woman mutters with a shiver. “As far as I'm concerned, he can stay imprisoned beneath the palace floors for the rest of his days.”

Nods of agreement come from the rest of the group, and a man who hasn't spoken yet says, “I still can't believe he—”

“It's probably best not to dwell on that item,” Olive interrupts, “given that we have nothing new to discuss.”

“Yes, probably best,” Councilor Bouchard agrees. “Then the final item, as always, is this week's surplus Seer visions.”

“I've collected them all,” Councilor Merrydale says, leaning forward and picking up a large stack of papers. “Including the ones Meira forgot to bring last week.” Across the table, the woman with the shaved head nods.

“Have they been checked?” Councilor Bouchard asks. “Anything still to come?”

“No, they've all expired. I checked each one.”

“Well, you know what to do with them,” Councilor Bouchard says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Councilor Merrydale stands and moves to the fireplace, and I watch in horror as he tosses the dozens of Seer visions into the flames. As Head Councilor Bouchard calls the meeting to an end, I pull my head away from the peephole. “I've seen enough,” I whisper to Perry. We tiptoe our way out of the storeroom and back into the library.

“Did he
burn
those visions?” Perry asks me immediately. “I know there was a fireplace in there, but I don't want to assume—”

“Yeah. He did. Did you, um, hear everything?”
Did you hear about Lord Draven
, is what I really want to ask.

“Bits here and there,” he says, “but not everything. I heard that last bit about the ‘surplus Seer visions.'” He makes quotes in the air with his fingers. “Can you believe that? They actually throw visions away. Was that the stack of papers on the table?” I nod and he lets out a low whistle. “That's a lot. I can't believe they know about that many things going wrong that they just don't bother to fix.”

“Yeah.” I bite my lip and look around, keeping my eyes peeled for surveillance bugs. “If Zed knew about this, then I can see why he might not be so enamored with the Guild system.”

“Zed's the guy responsible for the dragon disease?”

“Yes. He was trying to tell to me that the Guild system is messed up and that they don't help nearly as many people as they could. He wanted to know how they decide who's worth saving and who isn't.”

“It's probably random,” Perry says in disgust. “I doubt they put any more thought into it than that.”

“Look, I agree that this is wrong, but it in no way excuses the things Zed did. He is a despicable, worthless—”

“What? No, of course not. I'm not excusing anything.” Perry looks horrified. “Killing every guardian is
not
the way to go about this. The Guild should be training
more
guardians. Let non-faeries in. Or send all those extra visions to the Reptiscillan Protectors Institute. Don't ignore and then
burn
them.”

I nod, staring at the floor as my mind ticks through possible solutions. “I wonder where they keep those surplus visions before bringing them to their secret meeting each week.”

“Why? What are you thinking?”

“It's not a long-term solution to the Guild's problem, but … well, I have a friend—a group of friends—who could make sure those visions are seen to instead of wasted. We'd have to find the visions first and copy them.”

“I'll see what I can find out. I might even have to talk to … ugh. Pretty boy what's-his-name.”

“I assume you're referring to Rick,” I say. The Seer trainee Gemma has a crush on, which Perry is all too aware of.

“Mm hmm,” Perry says, looking as if he has a bad taste in his mouth.

“Well, I should go before I get caught. Thank you so much for showing me that. I'm not sure I would have believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself.”

“I know. Oh, wait. I have to tell you some other stuff.”

I peer around the bookshelf, then pull my head back and shuffle further into the shadows. “What is it?”

“Those two names you gave me to look up are both on the Griffin List. So whatever they're doing downstairs with those people in boxes is related to Griffin Abilities.”

I nod. “The conversation I just overheard confirmed that. I think they're trying to come up with a way to test for Griffin Abilities. I assume it would be mandatory for everyone to be tested.”

“That would suck big time.”

“Now that I think about it,” I say, “I wonder why they didn't come up with a test ages ago. They know they can't trust everyone to be honest enough to register themselves or their children.”

“They've probably been trying for a long time and just haven't succeeded yet.”

“Probably.” I look around the bookshelf again. “Okay, so I need to—”

“Wait, just one more thing.” He grasps my shoulders as if to keep me from running away. “I know you told me to stop snooping around Olive's things after you found out who really framed you for killing Saskia, and I did—sort of—but then I came across something yesterday. Remember I told you we found scrolls with non-Guild seals in Olive's office?” Without waiting for my answer, he rushes on. “I found out who the seal belongs to. None other than—” he smacks my shoulders as if beating out a drum roll “—the Seelie Queen.”

“The—what? Are you sure?”

“Yes. I saw the seal in a textbook the other day.”

“Olive? My bad-tempered ex-mentor is receiving correspondence directly from the Seelie Queen?”

“Looks like it.”

“Maybe she was delivering the scrolls to someone else. Someone like Head Councilor Bouchard.”

“Why would these scrolls need to go through Olive then? Why not directly to Councilor Bouchard?”

“That's … a good question.” I place my hands on my hips as I consider it.

“And another thing that's weird about Olive is that she periodically disappears for half a day or so at a time.”

“How do you know this?”

“My mentor's office is nearby. I notice stuff.”

“Okay, but that might have absolutely nothing to do with the scrolls from the Seelie Queen.” On the other hand, I add silently to myself, it might have
everything
to do with those scrolls. I don't want to get too excited yet, but it's definitely worth following Olive around for a day or two to see if maybe, just
maybe
, the place she disappears to is the Seelie Court.

* * *

Invisibility gets me safely out of the Guild without incident. I closely examine my level of fatigue when I arrive back at the mountain, but I don't feel any more tired than usual. Could it be possible the witch was lying about her curse? I can't forget that dream, though. The dream that ended with very real pain stabbing into my chest when I woke up. Perhaps I just didn't use my Griffin Ability enough tonight to feel the curse's effects.

Warm light illuminates the living room doorway along with the flickering shadows of a dancing fire. I walk into the room and find Gaius in an armchair. “Hey,” I say. “I might possibly have a way to get to the Seelie Court. I'm not certain, but I'll investigate further tomorrow.”

He looks up at me. “Oh, that's good. Excellent. Well done.” Though he smiles, his tone lacks its usual enthusiasm.