I gripped Effa’s hand to drag her along as we ran, bursting into the sunlight, startled and wild. We kept running. The grass whipped, dry as knives. Clods erupted as bits of bone jolted upward, unearthed by a witch’s rage, animated by an ancient Bone Woman’s song, her horrid keening that echoed through my brain. Something I should not forget.
“Lady!” Caerwen screamed the warning as an elk-like creature broke through the underbrush, bone legs churning, shattering the small branches of a thicket. Massive antlers had a three-foot span with wicked spikes. Gaping eye sockets disfigured the elongated skull and protruding teeth. A reptilian spine undulated, flexing the rib bones. Flattened hip bones and shoulder blades were pieced together.
Dread pumped through my legs and into my lungs as the monstrosity charged. Hooves gouged the dry ground. Sweat slicked my palms as I nocked an arrow, fought the bow’s tension as I drew and released.
The silver-tipped arrow sailed harmlessly through the bone cage, hitting the rocks with a dried-out clatter.
I shot again, severing the skull above the neck bones. Knobby white knees buckled and legs collapsed as the elk-thing toppled to the ground.
“Keep going,” I shouted. The nymphs faltered, as I did with my muscles quivering—foolish, trying to outrun a sorceress. The rune was safe in my pocket, but hadn’t twitched since leaving the witch’s cave, and the idea crossed my mind that the last twitch had been in triumph. A signal that the rune was a decoy to protect the seidr magic that Pelonie cast.
She’d said she’d rather rot than see Amal’s wolf returned, and the idea of deceit after deceit, piling on like the parched skeletons in her cave, had me reeling.
I missed Grayson. Missed the way he slid his hands along my back to ease the agitation. The power in his body when we made love. He was formidable—I wiped a palm at my face, at the sweat gathered there. Thinking of the last time I’d been both exhausted and sweaty. How I’d run my hands over his magnificently ripped body, also sweat-slicked from passion—gods, I couldn’t keep it together. Couldn’t close my mind, shut out the sexy demands he’d made when I slid down his body, took his impossibly wicked cock in my mouth and pleasured him until he’d spilled on my tongue.
My body throbbed.
“No-ee!” Effa sobbed, dragging my attention toward her. “She’s picking at me. I can feel her ripping.”
Effa’s arms were cut where her leather didn’t cover. Blood dripped from her fingertips.
“Fee!” I screamed.
“The tree.” Caerwen’s braid had come loose. Her voice was hoarse.
“I see it.” I ran, my legs pumping as if lead weighted my feet.
“No-ee!”
I spun. Effa had fallen behind. She stood with her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Tears tracked across her face. “I’m shrinking.”
She was the size of a ten-year-old.
“Climb on my back,” I ordered. “Hang on.”
Effa clawed at my shoulders. Her body shifted as she wrapped her legs around my waist to avoid the bow and arrows tied to my back. Gods—we were a clunky, desperate pair as I struggled, driving us forward while she bounced and slid sideways with every step.
Caerwen charged toward the main trunk of the massive tree. She was noticeably shorter. When she disappeared, I dragged in a breath and followed her, closing my mind to the reality that we were plunging through a solid object. When we tumbled out on the other side, it was safely away from the Well of Urd. I didn’t question that, either. I was too happy that I hadn’t needed to jump with Effa on my back.
The meadow nymph slid to the ground and sat for a moment with her hands pressed against her face. Behind us, the Tree of Life rumbled—the threat of distant thunder—bulging outward beneath an expanding pressure. Leaves jolted, resettled. The faerie lights danced. I glimpsed gossamer wings, shimmering with iridescence, although that might have been an effect of the light. Sun glinting in mist. Too much seidr magic.
A moment later, Effa tipped her head back. She was staring at the bird circling high above us with its head tipped down… hunting.
“I’m not building your bullspitted nest!” she shouted. “So take your fucking-fish-eyed bird ass somewhere else!”
The bird cawed. Tipped its wings and flew away.
And I laughed and laughed until I was crying.
“We have to leave,” Caerwen said after I’d flopped to my back and wiped my eyes. “The magic is too wonky.”
I peeked at Caerwen; she looked like Effa’s older sister, while Effa was now a five-year-old child. I told her to climb on my back again. Feathers might have weighed more. We were an hour away from the passage. Then another hour in the dark, and we’d still end up in Westvale and away from Aine’s wrinkle.
“How much time do we have?” I asked Caerwen.
She frowned, glaring down. Their clothes were shrinking with them—a minor miracle—but she still pulled at the leather. I didn’t think I’d ever learn all the different rules with the species. What nymphs worried about. The problems facing the witches. How wolves lost their clothes when they shifted, but the river nymphs didn’t… maybe I’d been in my head too much today, and I shouted at the open sky.
“Fee… get me to Aine.”
