Brightly (Flicker #2) (23 page)

“Why won’t it stop?” Lee whispered. Blood was still pulsing from the punctures, hot beneath her hands.

Nasser shook his head. “I’m working on it. The rain’s screwing it up.”

She could see the silver light glimmering beneath his hands as he tried to force his magic into the wounds, to seal them shut and stop the bleeding, but the rainwater rushed past endlessly, disrupting the flow of energy.

From the corner of her eye, Lee saw three more phoenixes explode near the serpent’s head before the rest dropped like stones. Nearby, Alice was breathing hard. She was soaked, her hair plastered to her head, the crystal necklace throwing eerie blue light upon her face.

The serpent’s tail lashed out again, slamming into the bridge and then coiling around part of the support. It squeezed as its head swiveled, searching for Davis, and Lee heard the unmistakable groan of metal. She looked up at the bridge, at the headlights sweeping through the rain, as the monster thrashed its head back and forth.

“The bridge,” she called, above the serpent’s roaring. “We need to get those cars off the bridge!”

“What?” Alice shouted.

“It’s pulling on the bridge!”

The serpent lunged toward the beach; Davis fired another arrow, this one sticking near its mouth, and the creature stopped short, hissing steam. The end of its tail was still wrapped around the steel beams.

“Filo, take this for me,” Lee called. The bleeding had slowed, but not stopped. “I’m going up to the bridge.”

Wordlessly Filo slid into her place, pressing his hands to the cloth that covered Henry’s shoulder. Clementine shifted, adjusting the way she held the jacket to block the rain.

Lee sprang to her feet. She scrambled up the hillside, pushing through the evergreens, stumbling over exposed roots, skinning her palms on jagged rocks when she fell. Adrenaline sang in her veins like a fever; she hardly noticed the pain.

She burst through the tree line at the top of the hill and ran straight for the road. Someone seized her arm, jerking her back. She whipped her head around and saw Jason.

“You want to get run over?” Jason shouted, struggling in vain to wipe the rainwater out of his eyes. “Jeezus!”

“Well, what do
you
suggest?”

“Not running headfirst into traffic!” With that, he released her arm and then ran onto the sidewalk. Lee darted after him.

Jason took a moment to gauge the traffic on the bridge, then stepped onto the roadway, waving his arms. The white headlights of an oncoming sedan turned him to a backlit shadow before the car rolled to a stop. Two women were in the front seats. The passenger-side window rolled down halfway as Jason trotted around the car.

“What’s going on?” asked the passenger, a woman with masses of curly black hair and bright lipstick. Her eyes flicked toward Lee, who stood just behind Jason. “Are you all right?”

“There’s been some kind of accident in the pass,” Jason said. “I think a boat crashed into one of the bridge supports.”

Lee noticed Jason slowly clenching his fists the way he did when he was concentrating on weaving a glamour. He did it over and over, curling and uncurling his fingers, like it wasn’t working. He was trying to glamour the women in the car, enchant them into doing what he said—but even without the rain tearing at the threads of his spell, Lee knew he couldn’t possibly glamour every person on this bridge.

Behind the sedan, other drivers started to honk. The woman in the driver’s seat was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, looking impatient.

Lee stepped in front of the sedan, squinting against the headlights. “You need to get off the bridge!” she shouted. “It isn’t safe!”

The driver rolled her window down and hollered, “Get out of the road! Get the hell away from my car!”

She revved the engine a little, like she thought that would spook Lee back onto the sidewalk, but Lee didn’t budge. “You need to get off the bridge
now
!”

The driver reached for her a cell phone. She started to dial—probably 911, to report a couple of hysterical teenagers obstructing traffic on the bridge—when another wrenching, metallic groan rent the air.

Lee’s heart stuttered, then picked up double-time as she felt a sickening
shift
beneath her feet. Apparently the women in the car had felt it, too, because they were gaping at Jason and Lee with wide eyes. The driver had frozen, her phone lifted halfway to her ear.

Lee slapped the hood of the car, shrieking, “Get off the bridge!”

She didn’t have to say it twice. The second she stepped out of the way, the sedan lurched forward, speeding off the bridge and onto the dark, tree-lined road that cut through the forest.

Lee turned. Cars were stopping and people were spilling out into the rain. She heard voices calling to one another, questioning, as the serpent’s scream pierced the air, slicing through every other sound.

People darted to the railing and peered over the edge, trying to see what was happening in the water below. Lee was suddenly glad of the darkness and the fog, which concealed the serpent, even if it didn’t hide its roars.

Jason started to run up the center of the roadway, shouting that that the bridge was unstable and ushering startled drivers toward their cars. Lee ran after him, calling out to anyone she passed who was looking over the rail or standing, confused, beside a car.

The bridge groaned and shuddered again, shifting noticeably, and anyone who had been standing still piled back into their cars and gunned the engines. Cars streamed past in both directions. It was certainly faster than running for either end of the bridge. Lee just hoped the people at the other end would stop other cars from trying to cross.

“We should go, too,” Jason said. “Everyone’s probably calling 911 right now. This place will be crawling with cops in a few minutes.”

Lee nodded. When the two of them reached the bottom of the hill, unnaturally large waves were crashing against the beach, one after another, relentless. Each time a wave retreated, the water level was higher. The serpent was raising the water, Lee realized. It wanted to come closer.

Clementine was hip-deep in the water. She turned, starting for higher ground, but the next wave that slammed against the beach crashed over her, sucking her into the pass.

“Clem!” Henry staggered to his feet, gasping at the pain in his shoulder, and broke away from Nasser, running toward the water.

The serpent stiffened, its nostrils flaring, as if it smelled blood. It rounded on Henry, who was waist-deep in the water, his eyes trained on Clementine. She was splashing in the current, fighting her way back to the shore. When the serpent began to slide toward him, Henry started backing up, though his eyes never left Clementine.

When Henry slipped, landing hard in the shallows, he scrabbled backward up the hillside. His injured arm gave way beneath him as the serpent slithered closer.

Filo shot forward, splashing through the knee-deep water, and stood in front of Henry. He was pale, blinking past the rain, his soaked clothes clinging to him. His chest was heaving, but his expression was hard.

In any other moment, Lee knew, blue flame would’ve writhed around his hands, but not now. The rain was falling like bullets, and he was standing between a monster and a bleeding human boy, and all his magic had been washed away.

The serpent dove, its body slicing through the water. Filo stared ahead, standing stock-still—and an arrow flew out of the dark, driving into the serpent’s neck. It screamed as its head whipped to the side.

Davis reached for his quiver, but came up empty. The arrows were all spent.

The serpent turned toward Davis. Impulsively, Lee stooped, grabbed a rock and chucked it at the serpent as hard as she could. It bounced ineffectually off the slick hide, doing no damage, but the creature registered the strike. The serpent snarled and swung its head toward Lee. When its good eye fixed on her, Lee’s insides turned to slush, but she dropped and groped for another rock, raising her trembling fist.

Another rock hit the side of the serpent’s head. A few yards away, Alice stood with a rock in each hand. She threw another, forcing the serpent’s attention to her. On the other side, Jason hurled a stone, and Nasser followed suit. Davis grabbed a smaller stone and used his bow as a sling to fire it. Soon the serpent was whipping its head from side to side, trying to divide its attention between them, hissing in frustration.

Another wave flung itself onto the beach, this one bearing Clementine with it. She crawled through the shallows, coughing and spitting. Davis ran to meet her, giving the serpent a wide berth as he waded to her. He slipped his arms under hers and dragged her to higher ground.

“The cops are going to be here any second,” Jason called, throwing another rock. “We can’t be here when they come. We should just split now.”

Henry stood again, wavering a little on his feet. When he took a step toward the serpent, Filo held out an arm to stop him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Forget it, Henry!” Davis shouted. He was still holding Clementine. “It’s no use! Let’s get out of here!”

Henry shook his head and pushed Filo’s arm aside as he staggered forward. Hissing, the serpent slid toward him, water spraying upward on either side. With his uninjured arm, Henry tried to shepherd Filo behind him, but Filo stood stubbornly at his side.

Around Henry’s feet, the water rippled, as if in a strange wind. Lee could feel rings of energy rolling off him, pulse after pulse. He clutched his wounded shoulder with his other hand. Blood rose between his fingers.

The serpent hissed, but it didn’t move to attack, as if something were holding it in place.

“You have to go,” Henry whispered, as he stepped toward the serpent. “You don’t belong here and you know it.”

He laid his good hand on its head again, then grimaced as he reached out with his injured arm, leaving smears of blood on its shiny dark skin. Strange electricity hummed in the air, raising the hair on Lee’s arms.

“You have to go back.” Henry’s eyes were fixed on the creature, but he seemed to be looking
through
it,
into
it, like he could see what was inside. He leaned his forehead against its snout and closed his eyes. “Please. You have to go back.”

With a sound like a sigh, the serpent lowered its colossal head. It turned and began to retreat into the water, slipping farther and farther out, its coils disappearing into the depths until, finally, its head sank. The only sign of its departure was a round wave that grew smaller and smaller until it was gone.

Henry took two stumbling steps backward before his legs gave out. Clementine and Davis bounded to him.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, trying to push Clementine away with his good arm, but Lee could see he was shaking, could hear his teeth chattering. “Stop it—I’m just dizzy.”

Davis helped Henry up. The water began to recede. In the distance, the first sirens sounded.

Together, they staggered up the hillside, huddling against the rain, shivering in their soaked clothes. When they reached the top, they kept to the woods, away from the road, where police cars and fire trucks were already gathering. Red and blue lights flashed through the trees. They worked their way deeper, still following the approximate curve of the road, but far enough that they couldn’t hear the voices of the officers on the scene.

In the trees, something rustled. Lee heard a sound like distant bells. A sudden chill skittered up her spine. She whirled around.

Behind them was a row of cu sith, flanked by half a dozen faerie knights on horseback, all of them standing silent in the darkness and the rain.

Chapter Thirteen:

All around them, the forest grew unnaturally silent, as though the rest of the world were fading away. The only sound was the tapping of the rain.

Glowing balls of faerie light swirled around the fey and their horses, blue and green light dancing against the trees. The cu sith padded silently across the forest floor, surrounding the cluster of humans. Among the greenery, their grass-like coats camouflaged them almost perfectly.

The middle rider, a faerie woman with dark skin and darker hair, urged her horse forward, and Lee stared. The horse towered over her, tall and broad and beautiful. Its coat was a soft apple yellow, almost seeming to glow in the peculiar light. Dozens of tiny silver bells hung from its bridle. The horse regarded her with eyes as bright and lively as leaping flames.

It took Lee a moment to pull her gaze from the horse and look to its rider. The faerie woman wore armor similar to that worn by the knights she’d seen among the Summer Court last fall, fashioned from bark and decorated with glowing moss. A curved sword hung at the knight’s hip and a quiver was strapped across her back. Her face was lovely but alien, every angle inhuman. The tips of her pointed ears were pierced with bright silver rings.

“Which of you is the animal talker?” the knight asked.

Nobody spoke. The low growls of the cu sith broke the silence and Lee fought a full-body shudder at the sound. The hounds’ eyes flashed like rubies in the gloom. Lee’s heart felt like it was being squeezed even as it pounded, like it was trying to make itself smaller and hide. She couldn’t catch her breath.