I Do Believe in Faeries (The Cotton Candy Quintet Book 3) (8 page)

Still, relief spread across my brain as I realized that he hadn’t addressed my scream. Those hopes were quickly dashed when—

“WHAT WAS THAT SCREAM?” the giant rumbled.

Damn. He had heard me. I slowly backed away. I had no idea what the giant’s face looked like, but I hoped he was just paying attention to Robin. That was probably cowardly of me, but my faerie guide seemed like he could take care of himself.

“Just me screaming,” Robin quipped. Behind his back, he was waving at me, directing me to a bunch of blue thorny bushes to our right. At least he was telling me to hide. “You surprised me, Jack.”

Very cautiously, I started sidestepping my way over there. Adrenaline brought everything into hyper-realistic focus, and I could hear my heart pounding from fear.

“THAT SCREAM DIDN’T SOUND LIKE YOU.”

“I’m good at changing my voice,” Robin said. “I’ve been practicing. You know, scaring mortals.”

“I HAVEN’T SCARED A MORTAL IN CENTURIES,” the giant lamented, sounding genuinely sad. “I’VE JUST BEEN STUCK IN TIR NA NÓG SINCE MAB PUT A BAN ON VISITING THE HUMAN WORLD.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that big guy,” Robin said, with false care. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

I was nearly to the bush.

“HAVE YOU MET A MORTAL LATELY? MAYBE YOU CAN BRING ME BACK ONE TO EAT.”

“Nope, not recently,” Robin lied. “I’ve just been here, just like you.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I HEARD. I HEARD—”

A loud crack sounded throughout the space, impossibly loud. I could see Robin’s posture stiffen as he winced at the sound. My foot had stepped on a branch. I hoped the giant hadn’t heard it. Robin and I both froze.

Above us, the treetops parted and one giant eye peered through the canopy, blinking down at us, first at Robin, then at me.

“A MORTAL GIRL!” the giant yelled happily. “I’VE FOUND A MORTAL GIRL!”

“Run, Abby!” Robin yelled.

I was about to ask him where I could run when the giant club swung my way, cracking trees and bushes in its way. I yelped and dodged as the top of it smashed into the ground where I was just nanoseconds beforehand.

The giant roared. Obviously, he could tell that he hadn’t hit me. He smashed the ground again, trying to get at me, this time close enough to send me sprawling.

“Dammit, Tinkerbell!” Robin yelled, pushing me out of the way. The club missed me and only grazed him, but that was enough to send him flying into the trees, out of sight and far away from me.

Oh my god, I was alone in the woods with a giant. I was hyperventilating, darkness edging into my vision as I contemplated what to do next. There was no hiding when a giant was after you.

So could I stop him in another way?

Magick. Use your fire magick
.

I didn’t have to use a phrase or draw a circle—my magick apparently worked differently than my family’s. I held the spell in my head and threw it at the enormous wooden club, hoping against hope that it actually worked. The giant must have had that club for a long time, because the dead wood immediately took to the flame and ignited.

The giant howled in pain, dropping the fiery club, setting some nearby trees on fire. I didn’t have time to worry about whether or not Robin had landed far enough away to be spared from the inferno.

I didn’t see the huge hairy foot as it came my way. It connected right in my gut, knocking the air out of me as the giant literally kicked me across the forest.

Blackness edged in my vision, and I passed out before I landed.

I hate Tir na nÓg.

Chapter 9

It was nighttime when I finally came to my senses.

I groaned and rolled my head. My body felt stiff as a board from being kicked around the faerie realm. I lay in a heap at the bottom of a hill, dry autumn leaves surrounding me, making a nest for me to lay on. At least I landed somewhere soft, right?

Ugh, maybe it wasn’t as soft as I originally thought.

I gingerly sat up, cringing as my abdomen ached in protest. I thought the giant’s foot had cracked a few ribs. I could only manage a shallow breath because pain wracked through my body in warning.

Was anything else broken?

I took stock of myself, wincing with each and every new movement. There was only a little bit of blood from scratches, and I checked my stomach for bruises. No bones poking through my flesh and I could feel all ten fingers and toes. I think I had escaped without breaking anything important. I’m sure I didn’t look too pretty though.

“Robin?” I asked through dry, chapped lips. My voice didn’t sound like it was my own. “Robin?”

No answer.

I looked around, hoping that maybe he was playing a trick on me, that he was somewhere nearby laughing at my pain and the horrible state I was in. Please let that be the case, that he was a horrible person playing a trick on me, and not that he wasn’t here.

“Robin?” I asked again, feeling my heart going into overdrive at the lack of response.

My voice echoed around me, and I could hear the humorous chitter chatter of faeries around me, but no Robin came to say that he was just around the corner.

Don’t panic, don’t panic.

I was alone in Tir na nÓg. Not only that, but based on how the trees looked like they were on fire with red and orange leaves that the wind plucked off their branches, I was somewhere in the Autumn Court. How, I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was where the faeries hated humans. Where I was completely lost.

More tears came and I hunched forward despite the pain in my chest and cried.

***

It took a little while for me to get a handle on my sheer terror. The one good thing about being a Murphy was that I could only let so much despair swallow me before I had to do something about it. I had to figure out my next move before other faeries found me, and I didn’t want a giant like the last one to find me alone.

I looked around and tried to determine where I was. From what I could tell, I was at the bottom of a hill, surrounded by huge trees that made me feel like I was tiny. Judging by the slope and the number of leaves, I had zero hope of being able to scale the hill and see where I was.

It was also dark outside, locked into an eternal twilight. I remembered Robin saying something about the different courts being perpetually stuck at different parts of the day. It looked like it was seven o’clock on an autumn day; there was no sunlight, but the sky hadn’t reached its darkest point.

I was relieved that there was one thing I could do to help look around. I held up a hand and concentrated my new magick to my palm. A tiny spark erupted there, and I held a small flame in my hand. The wonder of being able to do that still amazed me, but I had to figure out how to get out of here.

The little flame lit up the immediate area around me, filling out the shadows that had been just out of reach before. I could see eyes of all shapes and sizes looking down at me, some curious and some malicious. Not the best feeling in the world, having a bunch of faeries watch you while you cried.

“Can anyone help me?” I asked.

A few of the eyes blinked at me, but no one responded. Better than having one attack me, but I needed some help.

“Can any of you help me find the Summer Court or a faerie named Robin Goodfellow? Please?”
I’m desperate.

At first, nothing happened. I saw some of the eyes wink out of existence, while the others just kept watching me. I was about to cry out in frustration when…

A small bluish light appeared about twenty yards ahead of me, adding its light to my small, palm-held fire. It hovered in the air, just by itself, as if waiting for me patiently.

I didn’t know much about faerie folklore, but my brain suddenly remembered a part in a movie that featured little lights floating like this.

“A will-‘o-the-wisp,” I murmured, amazed. If I remembered correctly, a will-‘o-the-wisp guided travelers. In the movie, it guided the main character to something that didn’t quite pan out as planned, but it did help out in the end.

Here’s to hoping that it worked the same here.

“You want me to follow you?” I asked.

The will-‘o-the-wisp hovered in an up-and-down motion, as if it nodded at me.

“Okay.”

I slowly got to my feet, wincing with every step as my cracked ribs protested every movement. I was seriously hurt in a few different ways, but at least I could walk. If I could have a drink or something, that would be even better.

Still, Robin’s warning about not having anything to eat or drink echoed in my mind. So I just dealt with it.

I made it to the will-‘o-the-wisp, a bit disappointed that it hadn’t moved ahead of me, like some sort of guide. Yet as soon I neared it, another will-‘o-the-wisp winked into existence another twenty yards ahead of me.

“You want me to follow that one too?” I asked, even though I wasn’t sure if the will-‘o-the-wisp understood me. Of course, I didn’t get a direct answer, but I took that as a sign to keep going.

Just like connect the dots,
I told myself.
A big giant coloring book page of connect the dots. Except you’re connecting it across the Autumn Court.
The absurdity of it made me laugh out loud. I’m sure the will-‘o-the-wisp didn’t appreciate that.

When I made it to the second will-‘o-the-wisp, another came into existence beyond that, and it kept happening every time I got close to the next one. Where they were directing me, I had no idea, but it felt good just to be moving again. The will-‘o-the-wisp never seemed to hurry me, and I stopped questioning what they were doing. They were little nightlights guiding my way through this mess.

At one point, the canopy of the woods broke, revealing the night sky. I stopped and allowed myself to gape up at the smattering of the stars. I lived an hour outside of Jacksonville in a decent-sized town, so while I could see the stars, they were never like this.

“I don’t recognize any of the constellations,” I murmured to myself. After a decade of looking up at my bedroom’s ceiling, I should have been able to easily place where Ursa Major and Orion and other constellations were pinpointed into the sky. Instead, I saw groupings of stars that made no sense.

I shivered, suddenly feeling very cold and even more alone, if that was possible. At every opportunity, it felt like Tir na nÓg was trying to remind me that I wasn’t in my world anymore. Something as vast and as simple as having a different sky at night frightened me on some sort of primal level.

I was all alone.

I forced myself to tear my eyes away from that night sky and pushed myself as hard as my cracked ribs would allow. The sooner I found and rescued Alaina’s baby, the sooner I could go home and get away from this. The thought bothered me that I might never be able to see Robin again, but I pushed that from my mind.

It wasn’t like we were going to date or anything, or even as if he
had
feelings for me. Because I certainly didn’t—or, rather, it’s not like these feelings were real. That was it. I was just overwhelmed and clung to the one person who helped me.

Once this was all said and done, life would go back to normal. Although he did want a favor out of me. Hopefully it would be as simple as giving him a cup of sugar or something. I doubted that seriously but what’s a life without hope?

My head started aching at all of the different thoughts swirling through my brain, and I sucked down the pain.

The will-‘o-the-wisp led me through the meadow, under the open sky for some time. I had no idea how long I was following them, but they always seemed patient beacons for me to follow.

I heard the babbling before I actually saw the stream that cut through the meadow. Was the will-‘o-the-wisp ahead of me going to lead me along the stream to the Summer Court? Because civilizations were situated around water, right?

Yet as I got to the will-‘o-the-wisp, I didn’t see any more wink into existence. I stopped and looked around to see if any more of the blue lights had popped up. I frowned and did a full 360º trying to see if I could spot the next beacon of light.

Nothing.

Maybe it was across the stream? Although it looked too far for me cross, I stepped down to the bank and looked around anyway.

There was a woman standing knee-deep in the stream about sixty feet from where I was, silhouetted by the night.

I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there at all, so I jumped when I spotted her, but managed not to shriek in fear this time. Maybe I was getting used to Tir na nÓg then.

Was this who the will-‘o-the-wisps were leading me to? What if she was a bad faerie?

I looked back to the last wisp, which hadn’t been joined by another one. So they did want me here. I clenched and unclenched my fingers, debating what I should do. I had fire magick. If she was a bad faerie, I was going to have to risk it and defend myself if that was the case.

But the will-‘o-the-wisps wouldn’t lead me here maliciously, would they?

“Hello?” I called.

The woman, who was bent over something in the stream, stopped and looked up at me. So far so good. I took a few steps towards her down the bank.

“Hi there!” I called. “I am trying to get to the Summer Court, but I got separated from my guide. Can you help me?”

I took a few more steps towards her, but then froze.

The woman—if she could be called that—had long stringy gray hair with no nose on her sallow face. She wore an old-timey cloak that was soaked in a substance that was darker than the water of the stream. Her hands held a garment stained with the same liquid as her cloak, and I realized that I had interrupted her scrubbing it in the stream.

Blood. She was washing blood out of someone’s clothes.

My heart pounded in my ears as our gazes connected, only she didn’t have eyes. She had deep black sockets that threatened to engulf me in their sad expression.

I tried backing up. I tried getting away, but my feet were rooted to the spot.

Then she opened her mouth and screamed.

The sound broke me out of my trance, and I grimaced, holding my hands to my ears. She just kept screaming, her voice never ending as it filled the night with the horrible sound.