My heart aches for him. Even from behind this weird green-tinged veil that separates the two of us, I can feel his pain. How could I not? Only the hardest of hearts could fail to empathize with the despair and—
Vibrations and ripples. A whoosh. The jolt slams nausea into me with such force that I almost throw up the moment the plant-filled office reappears. Dizzy, dizzy, spinning. Reeling and swimming and why can’t the room keep still, dammit?
“Calla?” I feel hands on me.
“Sick … gonna be sick, gonna be sick.” I feel the floor beneath my knees. A bin is thrust in front of me. I grab hold of it as my stomach heaves and loses its contents. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and then there’s more spinning and tossing until I’m finally lying down on something.
I close my eyes and wait it out.
When the world has stopped spinning and the nausea is gone, I blink and find myself lying on a four-poster bed.
“Feeling okay?” Chase asks.
“That was so gross,” I mumble. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s a bathing room through there,” he says, pointing to a door. “If you want to clean up.”
“I do.” I’m a little shaky still, but I need to get rid of the awful taste in my mouth.
When I’ve cleaned my hands, rinsed my mouth, and splashed water on my face, I walk back into the room and sit on the bed.
“I’m sorry,” Chase says quietly. He pushes away from the wall and comes to stand by the bed. “That one was my fault. I was … provoking you. And I should have been able to hold you back, but I didn’t reach you in time.”
I pull my legs up and wrap my arms around my knees. “I saw you,” I tell him. “In the past. In your home.”
“What?” His hand tenses around the bedpost. “What did you see?”
“Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything inappropriate. You must have just moved in. There was a woman there. She said the furniture wasn’t really her style, and you said it wasn’t yours either.”
“Oh, that home.” Chase sounds relieved, but his grip on the bedpost hasn’t changed. “What else did you see?”
“Nothing. That was it.” I can’t tell him what else I heard, what I saw. It’s too personal. He wouldn’t like the fact that I witnessed a moment of such despair.
“That was eight or nine years ago. No wonder you felt so sick when you got back.” He swings around the bedpost and sits beside me. “When I was experimenting, trying to figure out if I could control this power, I ended up watching the moment my parents met each other. That was almost thirty years ago.”
“Wow. That must have made you really sick.”
“I was in bed for a full day. The world wouldn’t stop moving.”
I look up at the sound of footsteps and see Gaius in the doorway. “All better?” he asks. “I’m sure you’re ready to get rid of that ability now.”
“Definitely.” I stand. “So how does this work? Do you have some special plant concoction for me to take?”
“No, no.” He waves the idea away as if it’s a ridiculous one. “Nothing nearly as complicated as that.” He holds his hand out to me. I eye it, then look at Chase.
“Don’t worry, he won’t bite,” Chase says.
“Okaaay.” I raise my hand and grasp Gaius’s.
He closes his eyes, then opens them a moment later. “Oh. I didn’t expect that.”
“Expect what?”
“Two Griffin Abilities. One is your own, I assume?”
I snatch my hand away from his as a chill crawls up my spine. “How do you know that?”
“Because, my dear,” he says gently, “that is my Griffin Ability. I can sense, absorb, and transfer other abilities.”
I look from Gaius to Chase. Chase nods. “So you’re also one of the Gifted,” I say to Gaius. “Does that mean that the time traveling ability in the bangle once belonged to another Gifted person?”
“It belonged to Saber,” Chase says. “The man who’s been trying to steal it back.”
“But then—”
“I know, I know. What right do we have to take his own ability away from him? Well, after he kept using his power to learn important secrets that ended up getting a lot of people hurt, we decided everyone would be better off if he couldn’t visit the past anymore.”
“But that isn’t your decision to make. The Guild should arrest him.”
“They did. They’ve arrested him twice over the past year. Nothing short of drugging him will contain him.”
“So then—”
“Then what? Drug the man for the rest of his life? How is that any better than killing him?”
I place my hands on my hips. “This is the part where I should probably ask how you know all this, but I doubt you’d answer me.”
“You doubt correctly,” Chase says.
I shake my head and turn back to Gaius. “When you absorb the time traveling ability, will that affect my own ability in any way?”
“No,” he says. “I won’t touch what’s yours.”
“Okay.” I hold my hand out. “Then please take this time traveling problem away from me before I wind up in the past again.”
He takes my hand and closes his eyes. I feel rather stupid as I stand there, waiting for something to happen, wondering if it will hurt when it does. I find Chase watching me, and I manage to hold his gaze for several moments before looking away. Doesn’t he know it’s rude to stare?
Gaius releases my hand and says, “All done.”
Surprised, I ask, “Are you sure? I didn’t feel a thing.”
He chuckles. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Chase puts his hand into his coat pocket and removes a shape wrapped in cloth. The bronze bangle. “You can put the power back in here,” he says to Gaius, handing him the enchanted jewelry. “Then I’ll destroy it. I should have done that the first time around instead of experimenting with it.” He crosses his arms and looks at me. “It’s been on quite a journey since then. Someone was waiting for a tattoo and overheard me talking about it. She stole it after coming in for a second tattoo. The Guild got wind of it after that, which is how it wound up in their artifacts collection. It was there for several months before Saber got hold of it. I stole it from him, and then you stole it from me.”
“And now you’re going to destroy it.”
“Yes.”
There’s something that doesn’t feel entirely right about snuffing out another person’s magic. But I have to admit that Chase is right. If this guy is dangerous and the only other option is for the Guild to keep him drugged for the rest of his life, then he’s better off without this ability. “Is it straightforward to destroy this bangle? No long, complicated ritual that will provide the bad guy with plenty of opportunity to steal it back?”
“We don’t have to journey to Mount Doom, if that’s what you mean.”
“Mount Doom?”
“Never mind,” he says with a sigh. “Let’s go. We can use the faerie door this time. I know how fond you are of Jarvis, but it’ll be faster this way.”
I follow Chase and Gaius along the corridor and downstairs to the entrance hall. He stops in front of one of the doors, and I notice that it’s slightly different from the others leading off this room. The patterns covering its surface are more intricate. Gaius produces a gold key similar to the one Chase handed him earlier—although this one doesn’t appear to have been twisted into an odd shape—and unlocks the door. It melts apart and vanishes, leaving darkness beyond. “You can take my key,” Gaius says, handing it to Chase. “I’ll make another one.”
“Thanks.” Chase gestures for me to go ahead of him.
“Am I supposed to hold your hand?” I ask. I’ve never used a faerie door before; I don’t know if they work the same way faerie paths do.
“No. This path has only one destination on the other side. It isn’t possible for you to end up anywhere else. But,” he adds with a smirk, “you can hold my hand, if that’s what you want.”
I swat
his raised hand out of the way and walk ahead of him. I keep walking, through the weightlessness and through the utter darkness pressing against my eyes. A rectangular outline of light appears up ahead of me. I walk toward it—then smack right into a hard surface.
“It’s a door, Calla,” Chase says. “You have to open it.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I mutter as I feel for a doorknob. I twist it, push the door open, and walk into the back room of Chase’s tattoo studio. Convenient. Clearly Chase visits Gaius quite often. I’d love to ask him what that’s all about—if only he’d give me a straight answer.
“Well,” I say, turning to him, “thank you for helping me, Chase. I appreciate it.”
He inclines his head. “It’s been a pleasure meeting both you and your illusion magic.” He slides his hand into an inside pocket of his coat and pulls out his amber. He holds it toward me. “In case you need help again.”
Right. Because sending him an amber message will be a lot simpler than showing up unannounced inside his home and dangling upside down. I pull my own amber from my pocket, reach forward, and brush it against his. The two rectangular devices glow briefly as their amber IDs connect. Now, when I write a message and think of Chase, the message will show up on his amber. I return mine to my pocket and clear my throat. “I guess I’ll be heading home then.”
“Okay.” He opens a cupboard on the other side of the room and removes a stone urn. He lowers it to the floor with some effort. “You’ll be back for your tattoo, of course.”
“Of course,” I say absently, curiosity distracting me from coming up with a smart reply. Chase lifts the urn lid, and I lean forward so I can see the contents. An orange glow emanates from the opening. Taking a step closer, I see flames burning. I feel their heat.
Chase looks up. “I thought you were going home.”
“Um, yes.” I hesitate before turning away. I place my hand on his arm. “Remember. As long as my secret stays secret, so does yours. I’m just a regular faerie, and you’re nothing more than a tattoo artist.”
He considers me with bright eyes I wish I could paint. I wonder if I could ever get the color right. The perfect mix of storm grey, palest green, and moonlight. As I watch him, his expression changes. He frowns, his eyes taking me in as if for the first time.
“Is something wrong?” I ask tentatively.
“No,” he says slowly. “I just … remembered something I was told a long time ago.” He blinks, shakes his head, then extends his hand toward me. I grasp it. “Agreed,” he says.
I walk away from him. I open the door, wondering if I might possibly be brave enough to make a real appointment for a real tattoo. I’m saved from having to make that decision, though, because on the other side of the door, leaning against the counter with a crossbow in one hand, is Saber.
“Ah, you’re back,” he says. “It’s about time.”
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
After a glance at the motionless elf lying on the floor, I back up slowly, raising my hands. Shield magic hangs in the air in front of me, but it won’t last long if attacked repeatedly with a crossbow. “Chase?” I say as I place one foot behind the other. “Looks like I’m not going home just yet.”
Saber crosses the threshold into the room, and I cast a quick glance over my shoulder at Chase. He’s standing over the urn with the bangle held in a cloth. “Ah, look who decided to join us for the festivities,” he says. “You’re just in time, Mr. Saber.”
“That’s mine,” Saber growls. “I want it back.”
“You did just fine without it all those months it was at the Guild.”
“Things change.”
I edge further back until I’m next to Chase. I sense his shield magic joining mine. “By ‘things change,’” Chase says, “do you mean someone at Velazar Prison told you to get it back?”
Sparks fly from Saber’s tongue as he speaks. “What I do at Velazar Prison is no business of yours. Now give me the bangle before I shoot your girlfriend through the head.”
“Anything to do with that particular prisoner is my business, Saber. What information does he want you to find?”
“You won’t know until it’s too late.”
“Then I suppose we have no reason to delay this any longer.” Chase drops the bangle into the urn and places the lid on top.
“No!” Saber takes a few steps forward, then stops as the sound of an explosion rips through the still air. The urn rocks, but remains intact. “NO!” Saber raises his crossbow and fires. Again and again, bolts strike our combined shield.
“Now would be a good time to do your thing,” Chase says between gritted teeth.
“But I’m pouring all my energy into the shield. I can’t—”
“I’ll hold the shield. You distract him.”
I breathe out slowly, releasing both my shield and the control around my mind. I close my eyes and focus on what I need Saber to see. I imagine a second explosion within the stone urn. This time, it cracks. It shatters. It sends stone and flame and heat flying across the room. When I open my eyes, I see the scene I’m imagining. I feel the searing heat. Saber is on the other side of the room, his arm raised to protect his face against the imaginary burning debris that just flew past him.
Chase kicks the reclining chair across the room, knocking Saber to the ground. The crossbow clatters onto the floor, and Chase forces a gust of wind from his hand strong enough to sweep the weapon out the door. Saber rolls away from the broken chair, jumps to his feet, and runs at Chase. Chase bends and uses the man’s momentum to flip him over his shoulder. Saber lands on his side and kicks at Chase, but the tattoo artist leaps out of the way. As Saber scrambles up and flings sparks at his opponent, Chase ducks. Then he jumps and kicks, striking Saber in the chest with his solid combat boot. Saber goes down with a crash, and Chase raises a spinning, crackling ball of magic above his hand and slams it down onto Saber. The green man collapses, his head dropping back to the floor and his limbs going floppy.
The flames, smoke and heat of my projection fade away. “You can fight,” is the first thing I say, followed quickly by, “Was that stunner magic?”
Chase nods as he looks down at the knocked-out man.
“How did you draw so much power so quickly? It takes me minutes of concentration to gather enough to stun someone.”
Without meeting my eyes, Chase says, “I suppose you need to practice. The more important question, though, is this: What did Saber do with my lovely assistant?”
“Oh no.” I jump over Saber and run to the doorway. “I saw her lying here when I opened the door, but …” I look around the room. “She’s gone.”
Chase walks to my side. “She must have gone for help.”
“Hopefully that means she’s—”
I fall backward with a cry as something grabs my arm and pulls. I tumble into darkness. Chase flails at my side, shouting angry words, and the grip on my wrist never loosens.
Until we hit the ground.
I gasp in a breath or two before being able to move. Then I pull my knees up, roll my weight back onto my shoulders, and kick directly up into the air. The force of my kick pulls the rest of my body up. I snap my legs down and land in a squat. I straighten and spin around, attempting to get my bearings. “You can stay down here until he decides what to do with you,” Saber snarls. I see him a few feet away, a bright white ball of magic hovering above each hand. I reach for a throwing star, aim for his shoulder, and let it loose. “Personally,” he adds as the glittering weapon whizzes over his shoulder and disappears into the faerie paths, “I hope you die a horrible death first.”
I hold my hands up as a bow and arrow form in my grasp. I let the arrow go—just as Saber jumps backward into the void. The arrow flies into the narrowing gap as the edges of the doorway grow toward each other. A second later, the doorway and the faerie paths are gone. And so is the light.
“Chase?” I ask tentatively. A groan is my only response. I gather magic into a ball of
yellow light and send it into the air above me. Looking around, I find we’re in a tunnel. Narrower and lower than I’m comfortable with—don’t panic, don’t panic—and completely bare. On the ground nearby lies Chase. “Crap.” I drop to my knees beside him. “What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
He lifts his hand to the back of his head. “Feels like I cracked my skull open. Doesn’t seem like anything’s bleeding, though. Must have just dazed me for a bit.”
“Let me check.” I raise my hands as he sits up, but he brushes them away.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine. What happened?”
“Saber brought us here through the faerie paths.”
“An impressive stunt for an unconscious man.”
“Yes. Apparently there was something wrong with your stunner spell.”
“There wasn’t.” Chase carefully rubs the back of his head. “He must have thrown a shield up at the last moment. That would have absorbed most of the stunner spell.”
“Maybe.” I stand, reach for his arm, and pull him to his feet.
“So he threw a little tantrum and brought us to another Underground tunnel,” Chase says as he looks around. “Seems like a waste of everyone’s time.”
“Perhaps he’s busy trashing your tattoo studio.” I slip my stylus out of my boot. “We should probably check on that.” I write a doorway spell against the dusty tunnel wall. The words glow and fade—and nothing happens. “That’s weird.”
“Honestly, do I have to do everything myself?” Chase produces his stylus and writes on the tunnel floor. The result is the same: no doorway.
“You were saying?”
“Damn. This isn’t good. I think I know where we are.” He pushes his hand through his hair as he stares down the tunnel. “This must be the labyrinth.”
My heart rate bumps up a level at the thought of being trapped in a tunnel known as The Labyrinth. “You’re right. That doesn’t sound good.” Don’t panic. DON’T. PANIC.
“You haven’t heard of it?”
I shake my head.