creepy hollow 05 - a faerie's revenge (25 page)

I know Chase is right, but I still feel foolish looking back at all the clues I was oblivious to at the time. “Fine. So it wasn’t a deception, it was you protecting your ass. But here’s another question: If you’re actually the master of that minotaur, then why did he try to attack us?”

“He didn’t.” Chase raises the floating lantern with a flick of his fingers and looks both ways down the tunnel. “We ran away, remember? Only then did he begin chasing us. Perhaps because he wanted to tell me something. Something about what’s going on in these tunnels.”

“Well, whether he’s on your side or not, I hope we don’t meet him again.” I peer into the darkness beyond the reach of the lantern’s glow. “You said the chamber should be nearby.”

“Yes. I pictured it when we came through the paths, but without the access stone, we couldn’t arrive exactly inside it. I think it should be close. It will suck, though, if we choose to go the wrong way.”

“How will we know if it’s the wrong way?”

“If we don’t find the chamber within a few minutes, we turn back. We’ll mark our way so we don’t get lost, and hopefully some labyrinth trick won’t erase it.”

“Hopefully. Okay, well, I vote for that way.” I point to the right where the ceiling looks higher.

“All right.” Chase places a piece of chalk against the wall and leaves it to travel along with us, marking our way. Then he directs the lantern ahead of us.

“So … we’re going to fight our way past anything that tries to stop us as we make our way to this chamber, we’ll stun anyone who happens to be guarding it, we’ll rescue the Seers, and then we’ll safely leave the labyrinth through a hidden exit in the upstairs part of the chamber. Correct?”

“Yes. ”

“Sounds simple enough. We should be home by dinner, right?”

Chase shoots a glance my way. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or overly optimistic.”

“Sarcasm,” I tell him with a sigh. “That was definitely sarcasm.” I push my hair over my shoulder, then decide to quickly braid it so it won’t get in the way when we have to fight something.

“I think optimism looks better on you,” Chase says, his tone cautious. “In fact, last time we were down here, you told me how you choose to look at the bright colors of the world instead of the dark ones.”

I secure the end of the braid, cross my arms, and point a glare in Chase’s direction. “After dumping a gigantic, horrible truth on someone, you don’t get to tell them when to be optimistic.”

He says nothing to that. I start wishing I could take my words back, or that I could say them differently. But then I remind myself that I’m not in the wrong here. He’s the one who placed a great wedge between us. A wedge with the label
Lord Draven
. And as much as I wish we could go back to the easy banter we had before, I don’t see how that’s possible. Besides, I’ll be moving on when this business with the Seers is done and I’m certain Mom isn’t in danger anymore. Then I can finally begin to mend the split in my heart that doesn’t seem to be able to heal as long as I’m around—

The ground shudders, throwing me off balance. I throw my hands out and catch myself against the tunnel wall as sand rains down from the ceiling.
Oh no no no.
If this tunnel ends up collapsing and we’re trapped with no way out and no air and—

“It’s fine,” Chase says, pushing himself away from the wall beside me. “We triggered an earthquake enchantment. It’s meant to send us running in fear down the tunnel, hopefully straight into the arms of some creature. Or simply to add to whatever terror we’ve already experienced at the hands of this labyrinth.”

“S-so the tunnel’s actually fine?” I ask, taking a step and then bracing myself against another jolt.

“Yes, just keep walking. We’ll soon be past it. And be ready to use your magic or a weapon.”

“Right.” I’ve got a knife in my boot, throwing stars inside my jacket, and several other weapons in a belt around my hips. I’m as prepared as a non-guardian can be. “Are there any other enchantments or illusions you’d like to warn me about?” I ask as we follow a bend in the tunnel.

“Uh, I remember one that makes you think you’re being attacked by bats. There’s a mirror where the reflection looks like an aged and dying version of you rather than the real you. There was something with falling rose petals that burned … Oh, there’s a wall of water that floods parts of the labyrinth every few hours. That one’s real, not an illusion. And various other spells that make you forget where you are or why you’re here.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter. The tunnel curves sharply to the right, and we peer carefully around it before continuing. “Now that we’re down here and I’m thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, I wonder if Angelica sent you here just to wind up lost and confused.”

“Well, I’d ask her,” Chase says, lifting his hand and wiggling his pinkie finger where the telepathy ring is, “but she doesn’t seem to be wearing her ring at the moment.”

I stop and face him. “This is actually incredibly stupid. You don’t remember where all these enchantments or obstacles are, or they’re creatures that move around, or they’re new obstacles you don’t know anything about. And there are countless enchantments that could leave both of us without any clue as to what we’re doing here. How exactly did we think this was going to work?”

Instead of reassuring me that of
course
this will work, his lips twitch with a suppressed smile. “Is this the point at which you tell me you wish I’d made you stay home?”

Furious that he’s making light of this situation, I open my mouth to yell at him.

“I know, I know,” he says before I can get a word out. “Gigantic, horrible secret. How dare I attempt to joke with you, blah, blah, blah.” He throws his hands up. “Can I just say that I kinda wish I was here with the Calla I was stuck with last time?”

“Well maybe I wish I was with the Chase I first met and not the Chase you turned out to be!”

He stares back at me, any hint of humor gone from his face. His voice is quiet when he says, “If you still can’t see that the Chase you met is the same Chase you’re with now, then I doubt anything will ever convince you.”

My anger vanishes as if swept away on one of his storms. My shoulders droop. I shake my head. “No, that’s … I didn’t mean it that way.” How do I explain that when I look at him, I
do
see the same Chase I met, and that’s the problem? Shouldn’t I see the person he really is? The
whole
person, the guy who’s caused murder and ruin and pain? Isn’t it safer to never let myself forget what he’s capable of?

“What did you mean then?” he asks.

I continue shaking my head and staring at the bare ground at our feet. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

After a long pause, he says, “Okay.” I look up as he attempts a smile. “Just so you’re aware, the situation isn’t as dire as you think it is. The confusion spells aren’t strong enough to affect me, so at least one of us will still be sane at the end of all this.”

I blink at him—and then I allow myself to smile. “Well, thank goodness for that.” I swing my arms at my sides and breathe in deeply. “Okay, let’s do this.”

We turn to keep walking—and the strangest thing happens. The walls begin to melt away as ferns, trees, vines and flowers push their way out of the ground, unfurling, curling, reaching, growing, like the formation of a forest sped up so it takes place over a matter of seconds instead of months or years. Soon enough, we’re standing in a lush forest scene, color splashed all over it like one of Chase’s paintings. When I look over my shoulder, the tunnel is gone.

“Calla?” Chase says.

“Another illusion,” I whisper.

“What illusion?”

“Can’t you see it? It’s a forest. It’s so beautiful.” I stretch my arms out and watch the dappled pattern of sunlight and shadows moving across my hands.

“What are you doing?” Chase asks. “Don’t touch anything you see.”

“Why would it matter what I touch if it isn’t real?”

“Because it—oh, hell.” Then he swears far more colorfully, grabs my arm and pulls me back.

“What? What’s wrong?” With fear coalescing inside me, I search the forest until I see it: a shapeless mass of black smoke. It twists and curls and slowly moves through the forest toward us.

“Dammit,
dammit
,” Chase says, pulling me around and tugging me in the opposite direction. “Of all the things we could come across down here, it had to be that.” He looks over his shoulder, then pulls me faster. “I thought it was gone. We don’t have the right weapon, and there’s no time to transform anything. We need to run.”

“What’s the right—”

“Something loud and ringing like a bell.” He tugs me behind me, but I struggle to keep up.

“What is that thing?”

“In smoke form it can incapacitate us. In bodily form it will bite us. And then the horror begins.”

“What—”

“Our magic can’t stop it when in smoke form, so just
run
, okay? Run!”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

I push myself faster, but I can never be as fast as Chase. The forest flies past me. I wonder at what point the illusion will end. I throw a glance over my shoulder and—smoky tendrils are
right there
. Fear tears its way up my throat.

“Chase—”

Black smoke envelops me. My body goes numb and the illusion vanishes. I hit the stone floor on my side and roll to a halt on my front. I don’t feel any pain. Chase is nearby, groaning something. The smoke lifts—and the pain slams into me. The screaming ache where my left side hit the ground. I manage to lift my head and squint past a bright spot of light. The lantern on the ground, I think. Fortunately it didn’t go out.

With another groan, Chase rolls to the side and gets awkwardly to his feet. The smoke hovers, still shapeless, but almost as though it’s
watching
him. I sit up, clutching my aching left shoulder. I feel oddly sluggish in the wake of the numbness, but I slide my hand into my boot and pull out my knife. Chase sends a gust of wind sweeping along the tunnel. It’s almost strong enough to push me over, but it has no effect on the smoke hovering in the air. It swirls and shifts, and then it seems to pull together in a rush and shoot toward Chase. Seconds before reaching him, it materializes into a gruesome creature.

I don’t have time to look closely. I kick Chase’s leg as hard as I can. He goes down and the creature misses him. It springs off the wall with spindly legs and lands beside me in a crouch. I jerk away, seeing black skin dripping like ink and a mouth too big for its face, stretched wide to reveal jagged teeth. Its large eyes are milky white, but I’m willing to bet it can see everything it needs to see. Feeling stronger than I did a few moments ago, I slash at it with my knife. It jumps back, then launches at me. I swing my arm out, knocking the creature off me, but not before it tears through my sleeve with its ink covered teeth.

One of Chase’s knives spins past me and lands in the creature’s upper arm. With a high-pitched shriek and a snarl, it tugs the knife free and tosses it away. It jumps up, its body shifting into smoke again. I’m on my feet now, backing away, moving closer to Chase. My arm burns, and a quick glance down reveals gashes in my skin where my jacket is torn. My vision blurs. I blink and shake my head. Looking up, I find the smoke rushing at me. It twists into the demon creature again, baring its fangs and reaching for me with clawed hands. I raise my knife and—

Chase slams into the creature. The two of them strike the ground, the demon flickering between smoke and bodily form, paralyzing him in bursts. Then it snaps together fully and pounces on top of him. A scream fills the tunnel as teeth rip into Chase’s neck. My scream, I realize, as I run forward and tear the creature off him. I swipe across its chest with my knife. It screeches out at me as it leaps over Chase to where I can’t reach it.

A blast of fire shoots up between us, but it disappears moments later as Chase’s hand falls weakly to his side. The demon crouches, takes hold of Chase’s shoulder with its teeth, and begins dragging him away. I try to run after them, and I’m vaguely aware that I’m yelling, but I can’t seem to manage more than a few stumbling steps. The tunnel tilts dizzyingly. I find myself leaning against the wall, watching Chase as he’s dragged to the edge of the light, almost into darkness. I push myself away from the wall and stumble another few steps. Why can’t I
run
, dammit?

“Calla?” From the shadows steps a person who no longer exists outside of my nightmares. Goosebumps rise across my skin. It’s him. The boy. The one I forced off the edge of the chef school building. The one who fell to his death because of me. “How could you do something so wicked?” he asks, moving slowly toward me. “Have you always had a murderer’s heart?”

The guilt I manage to keep pushed deep down erupts from that dark place within me and twists itself nauseatingly around my heart. “You’re not real, you’re not real,” I whisper, managing to lurch past him. I can still see Chase. I just need to get to him. Blinking against the blurriness, I try to move faster.