With a Kiss (Twisted Tales) (13 page)

“And just how are you going to fit into that little hole?” I could tell Hobs was enjoying my incompetence, but just the fact that the Sidhe existed, even if I couldn’t get to it, made me forget to be mad at him. There had to be another way. Streams and wells were supposedly gateways to the Otherworld, or . . .

I breathed in deeply, seeing there were lots of people in this park. I had a plan, but this was going to be embarrassing. Ren sat on a bench, pretending to text, though I could tell he saw everything behind his dark shades. I didn’t blame him—I was putting on a pretty good show. I was about to make a bigger fool of myself and there was nothing for it. Pretending to touch my toes as if stretching for a run, I lowered my head and stared at the world between my knees. Like the Internet suggested, it was the only way to truly see the portal to the Sidhe. Some guy almost fell off his skateboard when I met his eyes, but I wasn’t looking at him or the hippies, though now they were giving
me
the look. I stared past them, and found the faery ring. It was a dark ring of grass against the yellowed lawn. No one would notice it was there if they weren’t looking. I popped back up, my face red. “Got it.” Without waiting for Hobs, I raced to get to it, my dark hair flying behind me.

“You sure you want to get caught in that?” Hobs asked in a much-too-careless voice. I should’ve known that meant trouble. I recalled all the usual dangers of faery rings, but being forced to dance for a hundred years was nothing compared to this sluggish exhaustion. It was probably a rumor started by faeries to discourage humans from trying to pop into their world unannounced—I saw right through it. The sound of Hobs’ flip flops quickened into a sprint behind me. I glanced back, and saw him kick them off.

I dove into the faery ring, putting my hands against the darker grass, but nothing happened. The Sidhe wasn’t visible to my waking senses yet. I sat down in the center, noticing that Hobs had stopped short of the ring. Babs tried to follow me in and he tugged her back with one hand. Even my shadow seemed mesmerized by my behavior. None of them were willing to go in.

I tried to relax, knowing I needed to get into a meditative state. But how? I closed my eyes, folding my legs like pretzels. The only thing that came to mind was to make up a monk-like chant. After a few bars of out-of-tune singing, my eyes slanted open. Hobs stood frozen in front of me like he didn’t know what to do. I looked past him, not sure what I wanted to find. A mirage? A rainbow? With my luck, if I caught sight of it, I’d chase it forever and reach nothing. I forced myself to stay focused and closed my eyes again. I heard a ringing in my ears and tensed. That was the wrong sound. I knew who it came from. A cackle that grew louder. It was the sound of the hag. And
she
was coming.

“Get out of there!” Hobs no longer pretended to be calm.

I tried to fight my way free from the sound, but I couldn’t move. I tried to wrench my eyes open, but they were stuck. Nothing would budge me from this spot. My mouth opened, but I couldn’t shout for help. I felt her coming for me, her fingers reaching like they had when I was too young to defend myself. They were so horribly familiar, the pale arms from Babs’ swirly toy.

Hobs’ arms were around my waist and he tugged me back. He was surprisingly forceful, and I opened my eyes, seeing that we were far away from the ring and still scrambling away from it. “We’ve got to get you out of here,” he choked out.

Why? Had he heard it too? My eyes went back to the faery ring. Those things were more dangerous than I thought.

“It’s too late.” Hobs threw his head back in disgust. “She knows we’re here.” He turned to the empty park bench. Ren was gone. “Where did your boyfriend go?” he asked. Everyone was watching us by now, and laughing at us too, but I didn’t care. A hideous black dog the size of a horse crept around the tree with the knothole in it, staring at us with strange blue eyes.

“A Barguest,” Hobs muttered.

“A bar . . . what?”

“They guard treasure. It means trouble. Let’s get out of here.”

I grabbed Babs’ tiny wrist and threw the little girl onto my hip, holding her tightly in my arms. Hobs’ hand was on my back. We left the park as quickly as we could. My shadow lagged too far behind me to be believable. If anyone was paying attention, they’d know something was wrong. I felt a shudder run through me and cast a furtive glance over my shoulder. The beast crawling around the faery ring had disappeared.

Chapter Ten

Wail no more, lonely one, mother of exiles, wail no more,
Banshee of the world—no more!
The sorrows are the world’s, thou art no more alone;
Thy wrongs, the world’s.

—John Todhunter,
The Banshee

T
hings were getting out of hand. My shadow was turning into me. Well, at least I thought she was. She was no longer in black and white; she was in color. And she was wearing my clothes—my most preppy ones that I never touched.

I blinked, feeling the dull ache behind my eyes. I really didn’t understand how the faery queen thought I was supposed to protect her child if she cursed me with this exhaustion. It was the night of the second day and
still
no sleep. And tomorrow? Death waited for me unless I took advantage of the night. According to my notes, it was the best time to get to the Sidhe.

After coming home from the park, I had thrown on my black sweats and T-shirt and fell into my bed, enduring this sleepless fatigue as best as I could while I waited for the night to come. Now the moon shone brightly behind the pink curtains at my window, a gentle reminder that my time was up. I forced my weak legs off my bed and pushed myself to my feet.

Babs blew into Hobs’ face and he blew back even harder. She squinted, the stray wisps of her growing hair flying around her pigtails. She had to be about three years old now. Her skin still had that baby look to it. She puffed another gust of air at Hobs, her cute lips forming an O until they were engaged in a full-blown war. I left them on the floor with my shadow and trudged past them into the bathroom to get something for my headache.

My toes sank into the pink shag rug next to the sink. There was only a slight ringing in my ears, but by now I was desperate to get rid of this dull pain. I swept aside the empty perfume bottles and my flat iron on the counter, trying not to look directly into the mirror. I reached for the aspirin, focusing on the full moon silhouetted against the fogged up window outside. The cabinet door creaked open. I heard a voice through the mirror on the other side of it.

“My baby!”

I dropped my hand. The cabinet door was open so that the mirror faced the wall. I couldn’t move, not wanting to close it to see who I’d find staring back at me.

“You must run!”

I gave a strangled cry of surprise when I recognized the voice. It was Babs’ mother! I felt like Snow White’s evil stepmother consulting a mirror, but I had to see . . . I didn’t want to see. “Run from what?” I asked. There was no answer. I hesitated, then reached up and shut the medicine cabinet.

The beautiful faery queen watched me, her long platinum hair sweeping around her heart-shaped face just like before. I could see her world behind her. It was caked in white snow. The ice shone like glass. “Your destiny,” she said urgently. “They’re coming!”

I jumped at the loud knock on the door and turned. “Get out of there! Quick!” It was Hobs.

I checked out the mirror behind my shoulder. The faery queen was fading. “My baby . . .” she whispered. I felt helpless. I didn’t know what I was running from.
My destiny?
What kind of answer was that?

Her hand stretched out to me and then she was gone. Something else was taking her place. A dark shadow. It watched me like before, and suddenly I knew it hadn’t been my own shadow last time. In a moment, it would be mottled and misshapen with red hair. Hobs ripped open the bathroom door and dragged me into my bedroom. He already had Babs. She clung to his neck. “They’re coming!” he said. “Can’t you hear the crickets? They’re going crazy out there.” Well, yeah, they were always chirping this time of night. He dragged us down the dark hall and into the kitchen. We skidded across the polished floor. “The crickets always know what’s going on. Why weren’t you listening to them?”

“I can’t understand crickets!”

Hobs slid under the kitchen table, taking us with him, and I bumped my head against the table. I met his eyes, our noses almost touching. He grabbed my arm, pulling me even closer to him. “Cats are bad news in May . . . and every other month,” he said in a harsh undertone. “Why would you ever keep one?”

“What?”

“That stupid cat talked!”

I wrestled away from him. The cat talked? “What did Hairball say?”

It was a ridiculous question and Hobs clearly saw it that way too because he just leaned back against the table leg, refusing to answer. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Who?”

Two legs approached us. Well, that’s all I could see from under the table. But they were wearing my leg warmers. I tried not to think that they looked better on those shapely calves than on my stick ones. Before her perfect knees bent down and she stuck her pretty face under the table, I already suspected it was Daphne. The flowery tablecloth spread across her blonde hair like a veil. It looked like my sister, but the way things were going, I couldn’t be sure. She grinned at us and I relaxed. Only Daphne had that silly grin. “What happened to the baby?” she asked. She tickled Babs’ cheek. “Who’s this little one? Did she grow overnight?”

“Uh.” I glanced at Babs. The horns of hair on the top of her head were growing even longer from this morning and now they hung limply over her ears. There was no way I could pass her off as the infant she was before. Not even Daphne would swallow such a tale. Babs wore her solemn expression. That part of her never changed. “She’s the older sister,” I said quickly. “They’re just kind of farming the kids out right now. The parents didn’t really want a high schooler having the baby for that long, so they gave me the . . . uh . . . three-ish-year-old.”

“What’s this one’s name?”

I hesitated.

“Halley!” Babs blurted. Her tiny hands went out to me.

I pulled her from Hobs, nodding vigorously. “What do you know? She has my name.”

“Huh.” Daphne’s grin went wider. “What do you know? Let me guess, you didn’t bother to listen for this kid’s name either?” She clucked her tongue at Babs’ black T-shirt. It was mine and it swallowed the poor girl. “Hey, we’ve got some toddler clothes leftover from the twins. They’re a little retro now, but I’ll go get them.” Without waiting for an answer, she left us.

“Get . . . them!” Babs copied her. Her fat fingers caught at the air and squeezed and I wondered what she was really doing. It was probably something way over my head.

Hobs let out a breath. His arm had managed to find its way around me in our cramped quarters under the table. “That’s why we can’t say anything important around Babs. She’ll just repeat it like your cat did.”

I glanced over at him. Hobs must follow that rule around me too. Who was chasing us for instance? “I saw the faery queen in the bathroom mirror.” I watched for his reaction.

I wasn’t disappointed. He looked positively rattled. “What? Is she losing her power?” He ran shaky fingers through his blond hair. “She could’ve pulled you right through. You know that, right? Stay away from mirrors.”

My mouth went dry. “Wouldn’t that have solved our problem?”

“No . . . no . . . I wouldn’t say that.”

“What
would
you say?”

I became aware of a sound that at first seemed like the wind, the sound of . . . sobbing. Someone was crying outside the window by the kitchen sink. Was it one of my little sisters? My awakening heart couldn’t take it. I tried to crawl out from the table, but Hobs wrenched me back, holding me in place with one arm. Now I knew why he had strategically placed it there. “Are you insane? There’s a whole army at the Sidhe’s disposal . . . and they’re a little leaderless right now. That means the hag has control over them. We can’t let them see you.”

I wriggled away from him. “Unless you tell me what
they
are, I’m going out there to make sure that isn’t one of my sisters crying.”

“Banshees. They cry when someone is about to die.” He gave me an ironic smile. “In this case, they’re going to kill us. Their cold breath on your face, the touch of their frozen fingers on your unprotected skin—it will mean your death. Can you understand that?”

His words sucked the fight right out of me. “Will my family be alright?”

He studied my worried expression, looking confused. “Yeah, yeah . . . they’ll be fine. It’s the ones who hear the cry of the Banshees who have a problem.”

That was good. My family couldn’t hear them. Could Babs? She played with her fingers in an unconcerned manner. Either she couldn’t hear them or she was used to the racket. “Maybe we should get the cat,” I said. “I hear faeries don’t like them.”