Faery Worlds - Six Complete Novels (127 page)

Once the letter was written and I had made the decision to leave it in the oak tree in the morning, I was a little more successful at falling asleep. I thought my dreams would be haunted that night, but instead of the usual goblins and trolls creeping around and cackling at me, I dreamt of a place so beautiful and calm I thought I might weep. I walked through gently rolling country, spongy with damp moss and thick grass. Flowers bloomed everywhere, despite the soft, cool mist that hung in the air. The hills were littered with lichen-encrusted stones, great and small, and in the distance I could see trees that belonged to a very old forest.

I crested one of the hills and it was then that the mist parted and revealed a small, verdant valley and what could only be an old castle, not quite in ruins, nestled against the hillside. It was covered in wild ivy and a sluggish stream trickled past it. Just as the sun was piercing through the fog, scattering its light against the castle’s diamond-paned windows, I woke up.

My alarm clock read three in the morning. Sighing, I slouched back into my pillows. I reached up and touched my cheeks. They were wet. Shock coursed through me as I realized I had been crying. But the dream hadn’t been terrifying or depressing. As I drifted back to sleep, I realized I had been crying because of the beauty of the place and the knowledge that somehow I knew I had been there before.

* * *

The next morning, before school, I slipped through my glass door for the first time in days and crept down onto the wide path leading into the swamp. It was another foggy morning, the cold dewy air rolling over my skin and clogging my lungs. I found the tree almost immediately; the only oak standing amidst the tall, pale-barked eucalyptus on this side of the woods. The knothole was a little harder to find, hidden by a branch and just out of reach.

Once I located it, I glanced over my note once more, rolled it into a tube, and slipped it into the hollow of the tree. Making sure that no one was watching me, I climbed back up the hill, casting my eyes around and listening for Otherworldly creatures. Not until I was safely back inside my room, my door closed and locked behind me, did I wonder once again if I had made the right choice.

-Eleven-

Rescued

I became obsessed with checking the oak tree for Cade’s response. That afternoon when I got home from school, I went down to see if my note was still lodged inside the knothole. It was. An unwelcome pang of disappointment overwhelmed me, but a few mornings later when I checked, it was gone.

Giddy relief flooded my senses, and I had to tell myself it wasn’t because my chances of seeing Cade again had just increased. No, I wasn’t interested in him. First of all, he was in his early twenties, at least. Even if he wasn’t the serial killer my conscience kept trying to paint him as, he was too old for me. Nope, I just wanted to see him again because he might have some answers for me.
But those eyes, dark green at first and as changeable as your own . . .
a tiny voice whispered in my mind.
Ah! Stop it Meg,
I chastised myself,
boys have never been interested in you, remember? Why would this time be any different? And since when have you not been afraid of him? He took on a half dozen of those hellhounds without getting so much as a scratch.

I shivered, hugging my binder close. It was Friday, only four more days until I was going to meet him again. That is, if he was still willing to meet. I still hadn’t received an answer to my letter, and there was still plenty of time to remind myself that Cade MacRoich was closer to being an obsessive stalker than a charming college student I should in no way, shape or form be interested in.

* * *

By Sunday morning I had given up on Cade. Maybe I had imagined him after all. I spent some time cleaning my room; doing a load of laundry and picking up the clutter that always littered my floor. I turned on my radio and cranked it up loud so I could hear the music over the vacuum cleaner. It was no surprise then that I screamed when I turned around to find the white wolfhound sitting stoically just outside my sliding glass door. Luckily, Mom had dragged my brothers out shopping for clothes and Dad was at a friend’s house watching a football game. Wouldn’t want them to think there was anything wrong with me . . .

I turned down the radio and switched off the vacuum cleaner. I glared at the dog, Fergus, annoyed at his ghostly appearance. It was only after my heart stopped racing that I realized perhaps he was here to deliver a message. I snorted. Yeah right. I had been ignoring this strange, supernatural stuff all my life, why was I welcoming it with open arms now?

Sighing, I walked over to the door, flipped the latch to unlock it, and slid it open. Fergus blinked at me once and opened his mouth to start panting. Cocking an eyebrow, I reached down to pet him. I’d never really tried to pet him before, unless you counted my dreams, and if that was even him in my dreams.

Before my hand made contact with his wiry head, he turned and loped off towards the far edge of the yard. He paused and looked over his shoulder. I was wearing a spaghetti strap tank top and my old ratty sweats. My hair was roughly wrapped in a bun and held there with an old clip. I didn’t look my best. Shrugging, I sought out my sandals and slipped my feet into them and grabbed an old sweatshirt on the way out. It was closer to evening than noon, and the late autumn air was chilly. As I walked, I could feel the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. Would Cade be waiting for me? And I had decided to go out looking like a heathen?

Turned out, I had nothing to worry about. Fergus merely led me to the old oak tree where he proceeded to sit down and whine. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out he wanted me to check the knothole. Inside was a note, written on the same type of paper as last time with the same Celtic seal.

Meghan,

Of course I will still help you. Until Tuesday then.

- C.M.

p.s. Keep away from the forest until you see me next.

I couldn’t tell you why that simple note made me feel like I was strolling down the beach on a warm summer day. Or, more likely, if I told you the real reason I’d have to go back and re-evaluate my sanity. Let’s just say, I was finally going to have some answers, after all my years of fearing to ask them. Yes, that was it.

Fergus escorted me back to my house, not leaving until he heard the lock snap in place on my door. I glanced over my room then turned to look at the white hound with the red ears once again. He was gone. I shouldn’t have been surprised. According to my research, he was Otherworldly and probably had oodles of magical abilities. Ah, so I was finally admitting I believed in all this supernatural stuff. Oh well, what else was I to do?

I spent the remainder of the afternoon finishing homework and choosing my clothes for school the next day. Dad got home around five, Mom soon after. She had picked up pizza for dinner, so claiming I still had homework to do, I grabbed a few slices and headed back downstairs. I escaped just in time. My brothers, having endured a day of shopping with Mom, had just unleashed all their pent-up energy from minding their manners all day.

Actually feeling worn out for once, I decided to set my Celtic research aside for one day. Besides, I had an appointment with Cade on Tuesday and I was hoping he would fill me in on anything important I might have missed. A tingle of dread passed through me as I lay in bed, trying to will my mind to calm down so I could fall asleep. The funny thing was, I honestly couldn’t tell if my jitters were a result of anticipation at seeing Cade again, or fear that this was all some huge mistake.

* * *

I woke up the next morning feeling restless and groggy. I couldn’t remember my dream from the night before, but I had a feeling it hadn’t been a pleasant one. It took me forever to get ready for school, so Mom ended up taking me on her way to work. The public high school, since it had so many students, started classes at different times throughout the day. Mom’s first English class didn’t start until later in the morning. This is why I usually got a ride with Thomas or Tully, but on those special occasions when I was running late, Mom was my chauffeur.

“You’ll have to catch a ride home with a friend though Meg. There’s a teachers’ meeting at the high school this afternoon.”

I nodded as I pulled myself out of her car in the parking lot of Black Lake High. The final bell had already rung, and I had to visit the office for a tardy slip. I was never tardy to school, so the whole situation put me in a bad mood for the rest of the morning.

At break Tully and Robyn caught up to me.

“Where were you this morning?” Tully asked.

“Slept in,” was all I said. It was the truth after all, and I didn’t feel like elaborating.

At lunch we met up with Will and Thomas out on the field. To my complete horror and agitation, Adam Peders and Josh Turner were on the opposite end, showing off for a posse of freshman girls. The girls were giggling and falling all over themselves because of the attention they were getting from the two hottest junior boys in the school.

Robyn rolled her eyes and started making barnyard animal sounds. It was the first time I smiled all day. Telling myself to forget about the boys, I sat down with my friends under a tall pine tree and started sifting through my lunch.

Everything was going fine until a familiar voice shouted, “Hey Elam.”

I cringed and felt Tully tense up next to me.

Adam sauntered up, his friends following just behind him.
Lemmings,
I reminded myself, trying not to let my fear show.
They’re just a bunch of brainless, follow-one-another-off-a-cliff lemmings . . .

“I heard you were thinking about getting some plastic surgery.”

I did
not
want to deal with this today.

“Why, what’s wrong with her?” Josh asked, supplying the next line to what I was sure was going to be an insult.

“Someone told me she was born with her ass where her face is supposed to be. But I don’t see how fixing it could make a difference.”

It was like someone had poured lukewarm bacon grease all over me while kicking me in the stomach at the same time.

I barely registered Robyn jumping up and practically screaming, “Piss off Peders!” or Thomas standing to defend me, only to be shoved back by one of Adam’s friends while being fed his very own offensive insult.

Above it all, I could hear the laughter. The freshmen girls giggling and pointing, the other bystanders either shaking their heads in shame or trying to hide their grins.

Suddenly, something inside me snapped. Normally, I would sit in mortification and wait for my tormenters to leave. This time, although I remained sitting, a bone-deep anger began to boil within me. I glared at Adam but he just crossed his arms and simply smirked back, as if to say
‘what are you going to do about it?’

After a silent standoff that lasted a mere few seconds, he snorted and turned to leave, muttering something else to his friends. I didn’t hear it this time, but the chorus of chuckles made me believe it wasn’t anything pleasant.

“Meg, forget those chauvinist pigs,” Robyn was saying.

But I wasn’t paying attention to her. I kept glaring after Adam, my anger rising. I glanced at the few pinecones scattered on the ground around us, still green and not cracked open by the autumn’s heat. I wished with all my might that I could pick up one of those heavy cones and launch it at Adam’s head. If only . . .

I knew right away that my anger must have triggered my imagination, because I pictured one of those cones rising up and flying through the air, making a bee line for the back of Adam’s head.

A strange gasp from Tully, and Robyn’s shocked face as she pointed numbly at the airborne pinecone, was the only evidence proving that I wasn’t imagining anything. The cone cracked against the back of Adam’s head and he went sprawling, face first on the dirt track.

My face drained of all color and my heart almost stopped beating. I had killed him. Somehow I had made that pinecone fly through the air and it killed him! For once in my life, I actually felt like I was going to faint. Fortunately, the crowd that had swarmed around Adam backed away and I could see him struggling to sit up. He looked pretty ticked off and when he pulled his hand away from the back of his head, there was blood. He didn’t look like he had suffered a concussion, though.

I sighed in relief and almost melted into the grass. I hated Adam, but I didn’t want a murder on my hands. It took a few more seconds for my mind to clear, and when it did, it dawned upon me that I had absolutely no idea how I had made the pinecone launch itself at my mortal enemy. Had I really done it? Used some form of telekinetics I unknowingly possessed? I guess it could be true, especially knowing what I’d already witnessed and been a part of this year so far.

“Where did that pinecone come from?” Will asked, his voice breaking into my thoughts.

“Robyn, did you throw it?” Tully whispered.

“No!” Robyn insisted. She gave me a disturbed look, and I merely shrugged, feeling immensely nervous and guilty.

“I’m sitting on the ground. If I had thrown it, the angle would have been greater.” Right? I hoped that made sense. I bit my lip. I felt terribly uncomfortable about the whole thing. Besides, I hadn’t actually thrown it, and if I did admit it, Adam would probably kill me for making a fool out of him in front of half the school.

“Meghan Elam threw it at Adam, I saw her.”

I closed my eyes, wishing for some angel of death to sweep down and take me away.

Robyn hissed beside me. “That
bitch!
”

She sure was laying on the curse words thick today.

Michaela stepped forward with Veronica and Therese, two other girls from the cheerleading squad.

But no one was looking at them. They were all looking at me. I was screwed.

“Come on Meghan,” Thomas murmured as he helped me to my feet.