Shadowspell f-2 Page 14

  “And that’s where I come in, eh?”

  I gave her an apologetic smile. “Well, you are the brains of this outfit, you know.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kimber and I talked for more than an hour, and by the time we were done, we’d hammered out something that vaguely resembled a plan. A crappy, stupid, probably futile plan, but it was better than what I’d come up with on my own—which was nothing.

  I felt better than I had for days, and I wished I’d called Kimber sooner. I hadn’t realized how much I’d come to count on her, or how much I craved the human—well, Fae, really—contact.

  The trip back to my safe house was uneventful, though I was tense the whole time, thinking the Erlking might want to rub my nose in Ethan’s captivity some more. My ears strained for the sound of motorcycles, but the Erlking had apparently made his point, and he left me alone.

  The smart thing for me to do once I got home was to give myself at least one night to sleep on my plan. Anything Kimber and I had hashed out in an hour’s time couldn’t exactly be the most bulletproof idea in the world. The problem was, I was afraid if I slept on it, I’d chicken out, and then I’d hate myself forever.

  That night after dinner, I once more retreated to my bedroom to make a phone call. Only it wasn’t Kimber I was calling.

  Hands damp with sweat, I scrolled through the caller ID log until I found the Erlking’s number. My stomach felt all tight and twitchy, and my mouth was so dry it would be a miracle if I could talk.

  He answered on the first ring, like he’d been sitting by the phone anticipating my call. Maybe he really had been. It wasn’t like I knew all that much about his powers, beyond the fact that if you cut off his head he could pick it up and put it back on.

  “So, you’ve changed your mind about negotiating,” he said. There was a hint of triumph in his voice. He must have figured parading Ethan in front of me this afternoon had broken me and made me see things his way. There was no point in arguing that assumption.

  I swallowed the lump of dread in my throat. “Yes.”

  “I’m happy to hear that,” he said. “I’m sure Ethan will be, too. Becoming part of my Hunt can be quite the adjustment for anyone, much less for someone as accustomed to power as he.”

  “If you hurt him…” I wanted to slap myself for the pathetic, empty threat. If the Erlking wanted to hurt Ethan, he would, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  Luckily, the Erlking passed up the opportunity I’d given him to mock me mercilessly. However, what he said instead wasn’t much better.

  “I am ready to meet and discuss terms at your convenience,” he said.

  Meet? Oh, hell, no! “I’m ready, too,” I said. “And we can talk just fine on the phone.”

  “I prefer my negotiations to be face-to-face.”

  “Well I prefer them on the phone.”

  “If we reach an accord and I release Ethan from my Hunt, he will need your help. He will be weak. So weak he may not be able to walk, or even stand, without assistance.”

  I closed my eyes and tried not to imagine what the Erlking had done to him to put him in that condition. Surely the Erlking or one of his Huntsmen could take Ethan home once he was freed. Or hell, just call him a cab. My gut instinct told me the Erlking wasn’t going to budge on this point, so I raised an objection I thought was more likely to succeed.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m under twenty-four-hour guard here. Somehow I don’t think my dad or my guards are going to be okay with me meeting up with you.”

  He chuckled. “No, I imagine not. However, I must insist that we meet in person. I will send you a charm that will allow you to walk unnoticed past your guard. It will also lead you to my house.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. People are trying to kill me, you know.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. It isn’t just your guard my charm will lead you past. No one will see you, neither friend nor foe.”

  I couldn’t count high enough to list all the ways this idea sucked. “This is so not happening,” I said, trying to sound strong and firm instead of scared and out of my league.

  “If you want to free Ethan, you must come to me,” he said, and he had sounding firm down pat. “I will not harm you, nor will I allow anyone else to harm you.”

  “What is it you have against the phone?” There was a noticeable hint of desperation in my voice.

  “I’m not doing this to be cruel,” he responded, his tone turning gentle. “The telephone is an inadequate medium for negotiations. It is too … impersonal. I promise that you will be safe with me, and that I will use no coercion, magical or otherwise, to bend you to my will.”

  And what, exactly, was the Erlking’s promise worth? I had no clue. Lots of the old legends of Faerie claim that the Fae are incapable of lying, but I’d seen more than enough evidence that that wasn’t true.

  “How can I believe you will offer me anything of worth if you are not willing to come face-to-face with me to talk?” he asked.

  Damn it! I hated to admit it, but he was right. Any deal I made would require me to face him one way or another. Shivering in superstitious dread, I said, “All right. You win this round. I’ll come meet you.” Oh, God. How big a mistake was I making? “You said you would send me a charm. How exactly are you planning to do that? It’s not like the postal service delivers down here.” My mail theoretically went through my dad’s address, though it wasn’t like I had any mail to speak of. I rather doubted my dad was going to give me anything that came from the Erlking.

  “You will see,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I will see you soon, Dana Faeriewalker.”

  He hung up without saying good-bye.

  * * *

  I had a hard time falling asleep that night. Go figure.

  I kept replaying my conversation with the Erlking over and over, wondering if there would have been some way I could have reached a different outcome. I doubted it. He held all the cards.

  Of course, I also wondered just how crazy I had to be to even consider sneaking out of my safe house to go meet the very enemy I was supposed to be hiding from. Well, one of them, anyway. But the alternative was to turn my back on Ethan, and I couldn’t do it. I might not want Ethan for a boyfriend—the jury was still out on that—but I couldn’t deny I cared about him. Not to mention that little detail of how he’d risked his life to save mine. If I had to put myself in danger to save him, then I was just going to have to suck it up and do it.

  I tossed and turned for hours, not getting to sleep until after three. I figured that meant I would sleep in—I wasn’t expecting Keane this morning—but despite my exhaustion, I woke up at a little after six. I groaned.

  My alarm clock glowed at about half strength, which meant we were somewhere in the vicinity of dawn. Not an hour I’m very fond of even at my most well-rested. I flopped over and closed my eyes, hoping to sink right back into sleep. But the moment I settled down, I heard it: a soft tap, tap, tap. It was that sound that had woken me up.

  I was still tempted to go back to sleep, but the sound made a chill go down my spine. I had no idea what it could be, but it was way too close to me for comfort.

  Telling myself it had to be something completely innocuous, I turned toward the sound and opened my eyes.

  At first, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I’m not the neatest person in the world, so my nightstand was covered with crap, only the little space in front of the clock uncluttered so I could see the time.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  I blinked. The sound was coming from my nightstand, I was sure of it. I sat up, my eyes scanning the piled books, papers, hair bands, and other junk that lay discarded on the table. And that’s when I saw something among the clutter that definitely wasn’t mine.

  It was a small silver statue of a stag, maybe about three inches high. Its body was sleek and curved, almost like a greyhound, and its antlers, almost as big as its body, were sharp enough to draw blood.
>
  My heart went ka-thump, and another chill traveled down my spine. I remembered the antlers on the Erlking’s mask and his helmet, and I remembered the tattoo he and his Huntsmen wore. No chance in hell this stag didn’t belong to him. But how on earth had it gotten here?

  Tap, tap, tap.

  I blinked, wondering if maybe I was having a bad dream. But no, the stag did it again, lifted one delicate leg and tapped its hoof against the wooden table. It then tilted its head up as if to look at me, then looked over its shoulder at the door to my bedroom.

  “Holy crap,” I said in a choked whisper.

  The stag repeated the gesture, tapping on the table, looking at me, then looking at the door. Call me crazy, but I think it wanted me to get moving. My heart hammering, my palms clammy, I slid my feet out of bed. The stag nodded, then leapt from my nightstand to the floor, its hooves making an almost crystalline ringing sound when it landed. It trotted a few steps toward the door, then once again looked over its shoulder at me.

  I sucked in a deep breath and tried to get a grip on myself. The Erlking had said he’d send a charm. I guessed I was looking at it. He’d said the charm would lead me to him while keeping anyone from seeing me. If I was really planning to go through with our meeting, I would have to follow the creepy little statue.

  “Hold on a minute,” I said, feeling ridiculous talking to what should be an inanimate object. “I’m not going out in my jammies.”

  It cocked its head to the side, then nodded as if it understood. Maybe it did, but I wasn’t sure how long it would wait. As soon as I got out of bed and headed for my closet, it started the little tap-tap-tap routine again.

  I was scared and creeped out, but I was still tired enough that I couldn’t stop myself from yawning hugely. I wondered if the Erlking had decided to lead me to him at this ungodly hour because he thought it would give him the edge in his negotiations. I also wondered if he might be right.

  It shows how groggy I was that I didn’t fully realize what the stag’s presence in my room meant until I was pulling a heavy wool sweater over my head.

  “Oh, shit!” I said as I yanked on the sweater, making my hair stand on end in static ecstasy.

  I stared at the little silver stag as it continued to tap its hoof impatiently. My knees felt wobbly, and I grabbed hold of my dresser to steady myself.

  “He knows where I live,” I whispered, not sure if I was talking to the stag or to myself.

  Not only did the Erlking obviously know where I lived, he’d also been able to get his little charm past all the defenses and into my room without ever raising an alarm. So much for my “safe” house.

  I took a couple of deep breaths to steady myself. I wasn’t even remotely happy that the Erlking knew where I lived and could get to me here, but there was nothing I could do about it. If he could find me here, odds were he could find me anywhere. He hadn’t hurt me so far, and I tried to convince myself that his knowing my location didn’t matter.

  I stuffed my feet into my favorite pair of sneakers, then looked all around my room, wondering if there was anything I should take to this meeting other than myself. Nothing jumped out at me except for an umbrella. I had no idea how far I’d have to walk to get to the Erlking’s house, and in Avalon, there was always about a fifty percent chance of rain. I grabbed it, wondering if I was going to end up needing it as a weapon before the day was through. Then I nodded at the stag.

  “I’m ready,” I said.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I held my breath as I followed the stag through my suite then into the guardroom. I could hear Finn rattling around in his kitchen, and figured he was making breakfast. I hoped the Erlking’s charm worked the way he said it did, because I was going to hate it if I ended up having to explain myself to Finn.

  The stag continued into the guardroom with no hesitation, and I forced myself to follow. Finn was frying something on his hot plate—he didn’t have a stove—and he looked as awake and alert as if it were the middle of the afternoon. I kept expecting him to look up and see me, but he didn’t. The stag walked right past him to the front door, then passed through the door as if it weren’t there. I suppressed a shiver.

  Keeping an eye on Finn, I eased the door open. He paid no attention, and I wondered what the chances were that this was all a dream.

  I belatedly realized I should have grabbed a flashlight. The tunnels were pitch-black, and even if the stag could lead me through the dark, I’d probably die of terror before we reached the surface. I turned to duck back into the guardroom to get a flashlight.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  I looked at the stag, wondering if it would have the patience to wait for me—and if Finn would see me if I went back in without it. But when I took a closer look, I saw that the stag was glowing faintly, a blue-white light like a little star. It started trotting down the tunnel, its light brightening as it moved farther away from the light that poured out of the guardroom.

  “This has got to be the world’s worst idea,” I muttered to myself as I eased the door closed and plunged into the darkness after the Erlking’s charm.

  The stag’s glow was barely enough to guide the way. I’d seen night lights brighter than that. I walked as close to it as I could, my eyes straining in the oppressive darkness. The tunnel floor was mostly smooth, but the dark messed with my depth perception and I tripped about a million times.

  When we’d been in my safe house, the stag had waited for me, however impatiently, but once we’d turned a couple corners in the tunnels, it picked up the pace. I think it knew I was fully committed to following it now, since my alternative was to try to find my way back to the safe house through the pitch-black tunnels. Even when I tripped so bad I almost did a face-plant, the stag kept going. I climbed to my feet in a hurry, desperate to stay close to my only source of light.

  Eventually, we ventured out into the more commonly used tunnels with their electric lighting. I breathed a sigh of relief, even as the stag picked up its pace a little more. I didn’t need its light anymore, but I wasn’t finding the Erlking’s house on my own, so I hurried to keep up.

  Avalon is a pretty weird place, but even here a tiny animated statue trotting along would attract notice, so when the stag managed to walk past people without them paying any attention, I knew its magic was working. Trying not to feel like there were neon signs pointing to me saying “fresh meat,” I continued to follow.

  There weren’t a whole lot of people out at this hour, although the streets weren’t completely deserted, either. But even after we left the tunnel system, no one seemed to notice us. It was wet and drizzly out, although not enough to make me use the umbrella, which I kept shifting from hand to hand as I warmed the free hand in my pocket.

  The dampness added bite to the early morning chill, and by the time the stag bounded up a flight of four stone stairs to a covered stoop, my teeth were chattering, and I suspected my lips were tinged blue. I was not looking forward to seeing what Avalon was like in the winter. But, I reminded myself cheerfully, I might not live that long anyway.

  I would have liked to have taken a moment to collect myself before ringing the doorbell, but I didn’t have that chance. Before I’d even reached the top step, the door swung open. I came to a screeching halt and was lucky I didn’t fall back down the stairs and break my neck.

  The Erlking was dressed a little less outlandishly than usual today, in a pair of tight-fitting black leather pants and an untucked black button-down shirt that shimmered faintly in the light. His hair was loose around his shoulders, except for two thin braids that framed his face. If he weren’t the stuff of nightmares, I’d think he was seriously hot.

  He smiled at me, then crouched and reached out his hand to the stag. It leapt onto his palm, and he stood up, closing his hand around the little statue. I remembered the sharpness of the antlers and wondered how the Erlking managed to hold it without drawing blood.

  When he was fully upright again, the Erlking opened his hand; there was
no longer a statue in it. Instead, there was a delicate silver brooch in the shape of a leaping stag. It didn’t exactly match the Erlking’s mark, but it was close.

  “My gift to you,” he said, raising his hand and indicating I should take the brooch.

  Of course, I hesitated. I had no desire to take anything from him, much less something that was basically his emblem.

  One corner of his mouth tipped up in a half smile. “You do not have to wear it. But there may be times you will find it useful.” He turned the brooch over, showing me the pin. “If you need to make yourself unseen, prick your finger on this.” He touched the point, and a spot of blood beaded on his fingertip. “The spell will wear off in thirty minutes, but while it’s active, no one will see, hear, or feel you, even if they bump into you.” He put his finger into his mouth, sucking off the little drop of blood, and held the brooch out to me again.

  I still didn’t want to take it, but I didn’t think he’d take it kindly if I refused. I picked it up gingerly, as if afraid it would bite, then stuffed it into the pocket of my jeans. If he thought I was going to thank him for his nice gift, he was sorely mistaken.

  He opened the door wider. “Come in, come in,” he said. “You must be cold.”

  The power of suggestion had my teeth chattering again, and I stepped into the Erlking’s house. I had to stop myself from gawking as soon as I did. House wasn’t the right word for the building I’d stepped into. Palace probably fit it better, though it was like no palace I’d ever seen.

  The floor of the entryway was black marble, shiny as glass, not a scuff mark in sight. The walls were covered in black and silver–striped wallpaper that had the texture of raw silk. From the ceiling hung faceted crystals in varying shapes and sizes, so dense it was impossible to see the source of the light that shone from behind them. The Erlking reached up and brushed his fingers over the crystals, showing off that he was tall enough to reach the ceiling. The crystals clinked together like wind chimes, the sound echoing off the marble.