Stolen Away (11 page)

I set out the matches I’d packed and then arranged the twigs in a little teepee shape, the way Granddad did when we had summer bonfires. I stuffed crumpled paper in the hollow center and then filled my empty bottle with water from the pond. I carefully soaked the grass around the thorny branches so I wouldn’t accidentally set the whole field on fire. I wiped my palms on my skirt.

“Okay, here goes,” I muttered, reaching for the box of matches. I lit the hawthorn branches, fanning them with my math binder until the flames caught. They crackled and smoked. I sat back, scanning the grass, the pond, the birch trees. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see. Which didn’t really matter since nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

I coughed on the smoke, deflated. “I was really hoping it would be that easy.”

“You ijit,” a small, feral voice snapped.

I jumped, lifting my fists in a classic boxer stance.

The flower fairy snorted. “Going to punch a wee thing like me, are you, then?”

I lowered my hands. “You again.”

“I prefer ‘Isadora’ to ‘you.’” She circled the tiny bonfire, scowling. “What the bleedin’ hell is this?”

“A thorn tree fire.”

“Someone’s been reading novels.” She sighed, her pretty wings fluttering.

“I’m trying to get my friend Eloise out of the hill.”

“That won’t do it,” she replied. “All you’ve done is made things worse.”

I scowled back. “How exactly did I do that?”

“Because now the Fae know you know about them. They know where you are, sitting in this big empty field like a rabbit ready for the stewpot.”

I did
not
like that analogy. “Are you cannibals?” I squeaked.

“I eat honey and flowers,” she returned, disgusted. “I used to eat the finest braised pork …” She trailed off, sighing a little.

“But you didn’t eat
people
.”

“Don’t be daft.”

“Are you talking to yourself?” Devin interrupted me. I hadn’t heard him coming, and the sudden sound of his voice, after a conversation about cannibalism, made me shriek and leap into the air. I would have fallen right into the pond if he hadn’t grabbed me. He was laughing so hard, I still nearly went in.

“No more caffeine for you,” he said. He waved his hand in front of his face when the smoke drifted our way. Isadora floated right past his nose and he didn’t even blink. “What, it’s not hot enough for you?” He shook his head. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”

I stared at him. Isadora did a somersault.

“Did you not see that?” I asked. Maybe the smoke was making his eyes blurry.

“See what?”

Isadora spun in place like a ballerina, cackling.

“You seriously don’t see her?”

“Who?” He looked around. “Eloise?”

“Not exactly.” I sat down hard, feeling dejected. My fire hadn’t worked. Devin couldn’t see Isadora. Eloise was still trapped under some Fae hilltop. “Isadora,” I explained glumly. “She looks like a flower fairy from a book of nursery rhymes.”

Isadora, in her delicate flower petal skirt, gave me the finger.

“Jo.” Devin crouched beside me. “I’m starting to worry about you. Maybe you have sunstroke.” He put his hand on my forehead. “We should find some shade.”

“Isadora is Fae,” I insisted. She perched on the top of his head and danced a jig.

He blinked. “Um … what?”

“You heard me.”

“Okay, this is weird, even for you.” He fished a bottle of water out of his bag. “Drink this.” He put his thumb on the inside of my wrist, feeling my pulse. “Feels okay. Where’s Eloise?”

“That is definitely a good question. I wish I knew the answer.”

He frowned. “What’s going on? Do I need to get you to a doctor or something?”

“Eloise is kind of missing.”

“Jo.”

“Yeah?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s about Eloise’s aunt Antonia, like we thought.”

“Gambling debt?” He raised his eyebrows so high his eyes bugged out.

“Worse. And I told Eloise’s mom, and she didn’t seem all that surprised. She told me to stay out of it.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Pretty much,” I agreed. “So I called you. Because the Fae took Eloise.”

Devin exhaled slowly. “Look, it’s like a hundred and fifty degrees in the shade, so whatever practical joke you and Eloise have cooked up will have to wait.” He wiped more sweat off his face. “If I decide to talk to either of you again.”

He walked away. He was remembering the time Eloise and I had dressed up in Lord of the Rings hobbit costumes and crawled in through his window in the middle of the night. He’d thrown a plastic ax at us. Then his mother came in, and we weren’t allowed in his house for a year.

But this time I wasn’t kidding. I scowled at Isadora. “Well, thanks a lot. Why can’t he see you?”

“I’m not your pet, human.”

“Well, that’s just great.” Only I would get the Fae with attitude. “How did you do that anyway?”

“I can choose to be seen, unless the mortal in question has been Touched, as you have. Then it’s trickier. Not impossible, mind, just takes more effort.”

She’d mentioned that before. “Touched? Touched by who?”

“How should I know? A person, a stray bit of magic; it’s of a piece.” She danced away from the smoke. “You should put that out,” she advised.

“And earlier today? Why’d you take off like that?”

“I had to confirm your story.”

“And?”

“And you were telling the truth.”

“I know. So now what?”

Her wings moved frantically, a blur of lavender and pink, like candy swirls. Her voice was surprisingly loud.

“Run!”

The room was dark and silent, except for the drum currently lodged in my chest pretending to be my heart. I’d put out the oil lamps and I was crouched beside the door, sawing at the silver bars with the broken antler. My hands were sweaty and covered in scrapes. I’d already cut through one end but it didn’t make a wide enough opening for me to slip through, even though I was squashed into a corset.

I had no idea where to go once I got free, but I was determined to try anyway. I sawed until my fingers cramped and the antler slipped into a pile of little silver filings. I slid it across the floor, back to Nicodemus for him to find when he woke up. I pushed at the bars until they curled up like vines. There was just enough space to wiggle through if I took off the bustle first. I left on the corset and frilly petticoats, and I
was still wearing more clothes then I’d be wearing at home. Every part of me was covered, except for my arms. It wasn’t easy, and I was huffing and puffing and covered in more scratches and torn lace by the time I tumbled into the hallway. A single lamp burned, throwing prisms of light from its crystal-beaded fringe.

I still didn’t know where I was going but I was headed away from the main hall and Strahan, and that was good enough for me.

I didn’t pause, not even to look into the other rooms. I didn’t want anyone giving me away, and I couldn’t break them all out. I hadn’t even had the time to find a way to free Nicodemus or Winifreda. The antler didn’t work on iron bars, only silver. I hadn’t expected to feel so guilty that I couldn’t help them. I should be elated, shouldn’t I? It wasn’t as if I’d been doing anyone any good all locked up anyway. I didn’t have the luxury to rationalize or philosophize. If I got out, maybe I could find a way to get them out as well.

I ran quietly; the hallway felt endless. I passed the rose garden, stumbled into a room filled with snow and ice, backtracked to try another corridor. I was starting to get a little frantic. I could only run for so long before I got caught. Maybe it was silly, but in that moment I wanted to cry even more than when I’d first arrived. I was so close. And it was so unfair. I just wanted to go home.

I shivered in a blast of frigid air, trying to figure out if I’d come from the left archway or the right one. My breath
fogged in a white puff in front of me and I frowned. I was nowhere near the winter room. Maybe cold air meant there was a door or a window or some kind of hole in the ceiling, anything. At this point I wasn’t going to be picky, even though I could have sworn my corset bones creaked with ice.

And then the Grey Ladies appeared.

“No,” I muttered, looking around for someplace to hide. “No, no, no.”

I ran and didn’t much care if I was going the wrong way. A blue glow followed me, flashing off the gilded mirrors on the walls. I stumbled and they laughed, hair gleaming like pearls. I ended up in a nook, and they blew in behind me, like a sudden snowstorm.

Eldric was leaning in the archway, his black frock coat embroidered with heavy silver thread. One of the Grey Ladies giggled. My teeth chattered.

“Eldric.” I tried to catch my breath. Ice pellets scattered across the floor like beads. “Help me.”

He just stood there, his expression shuttered.

“Please.” When I tried to grab his sleeve, the Grey Ladies swooped in, vicious and unholy in their jealousy. My fingers went blue with cold. They circled me, howling, all floating ragged hems and teeth. The sound was so sharp, so unnatural, that it cracked the mirrors, sending shards of glass everywhere.

“I can’t,” he said. He sniffed the air. “Is that hawthorn smoke?” He looked furious, furious enough that I stumbled
back, right into the arms of a guard. By the time Strahan arrived, Eldric was gone.

Strahan grabbed my arm so hard I immediately felt it bruising. “Well, well, what have we here? So rude to scorn my hospitality.”

“Hospitality?” I echoed. “Are you kidding?”

He shrugged pleasantly. His fingers tightened. “Well, if you won’t be my guest, I suppose you’ll have to be my prisoner.”

“What? No!”

“Restrain her,” Strahan said mildly.

I really struggled then, even tried to bite him, but the guards fell on me like beetles, like crows on a dead rabbit. They dragged me along as the other captives came to the bars, otherworldly faces crowned with antler, torn wings, animal ears. No one said a single word.

They brought me to the main hall, which was empty except for a few serving girls and house hobs and Winifreda chained to the wall, weeping. There was blood on her gown, on her bruised skin.

“What have you done to her, you asshat?”

Strahan took a handful of my hair, yanked viciously. “You’ll not be playing the shrew with me. I’ve been polite.” He shoved me against the wall, closed an iron manacle around my wrist. “But you chose to make things difficult.” He sounded like an indulgent, disappointed father. “Remember that.”

“Bite me.”

Okay, so hardly the smartest thing to say, but a girl could only take so much. I pulled at the chain until my wrist was sore. Strahan only watched, bored.

“I have less pleasant accommodations,” he told me smoothly, so close to my ear his breath ruffled my hair. “The oubliette is free. We could forget about you in that dank dungeon in the ground for days, weeks even.”

I stopped rattling the chain.

“Better.” He waved to serving girls, who hurried forward with trays of food. “To show what a gracious host I am, despite my feral guests.”

He left, taking everyone but Winifreda with him. A fire crackled faintly in the hearth, belching more smoke than warmth. Crows perched in the roots and Winifreda hadn’t stopped her pitiful weeping. I slid down into a seated position. We were on the edge of a handwoven rug and the stone floor.

And I was chained to the wall in my underwear.

Great.

I huddled into myself, glad I’d dropped the antler so Nicodemus wouldn’t be implicated for trying to help me. The platters of food were within reach and about the only distraction from my current predicament. Even the marzipan doves looked delicious, and I hated marzipan.

“Eloise?”

“Yeah?” I literally could not look away from a plate of cheese ravioli.

“You can eat,” Winifreda whispered.

“What?” I froze. Excitement at the thought had my mouth filling with saliva. I could almost forget the damp stones, the heavy iron at my wrist. “I thought it would trap me here?”

“It would, yes, but you’re already trapped. Strahan laid his hand on you. Food and drink make little difference now.”

“Really?” I should be devastated by the news that I was trapped, but hunger was consuming my every thought. I might start composing a love sonnet to the eggplant parmagiana. I didn’t wait for a second confirmation. I just gorged myself on anything I could reach: oranges, hot-cross buns, almonds, sugar cookies, baba ganoush, cinnamon biscotti, salty feta cheese, and apricots in jam.

I ate until I felt nauseous and I didn’t care. I drank a river of hot chocolate and enough mead to cause my head to feel like it was full of glitter.

I woke up to laughter and the tip of a pink leather boot in my ribs.

“Ouch, hey!” I snapped groggily. I couldn’t remember where I was until I sat up and smacked myself in the head with the iron chain. The laughter got louder, and so did my cursing. I rubbed at my cheek, pressing back against the wall, as far from the courtiers as I could get. There were four of them, two women who’d come to taunt me that first night and two men in intricate cravats anchored with jeweled pins. The woman in the vile pink satin had thin black snakes for hair, hissing.

“The little fawn’s been naughty,” she said.

I scrambled to my feet and glared. It was pretty much all I could do. There were raspberry stains on my petticoats and a smear of chocolate on my elbow.

One of the men held a lace handkerchief soaked in rose-water to his nose. “She smells.”

“I wonder how she tastes,” his companion drawled. He flicked the ribbon at my neckline.

I slapped his hand away and seriously considered biting his nose. “Get away from me.”

He didn’t. Instead, he licked my cheek. “I didn’t much care for Antonia,” he said. “Best hope I find you sweeter.”

His hand went back to my chest. I lifted the iron cuff and shoved it at his face until the smell of burning obliterated the smell of rosewater. He leaped back, biting off words in a language I didn’t know. I was fairly certain they weren’t complimentary.

“Anyone else?” I asked, panting as adrenaline poured into my bloodstream like sugar and champagne. My knees trembled, but at least they were hidden under my petticoats.