Chapter 17

I woke with my blankets tangled around my legs so tightly that they were actually cutting off circulation. Bleary eyes, a throbbing headache, and half retained memories of dark, confusing dreams further confirmed that I'd had a fitful sleep. Donovan's accusation had stayed with me, and my dreams had been filled with running, from what I wasn't sure, but it didn't really matter. He was right. I did always run away, literally, when my mom disappeared and figuratively from myself ever since.

The truth was that for the last year and a half, I had adamantly refused to even think about what led up to my self-imposed exile. Initially, numbness and anger had helped me push thoughts of my mother from my mind. As those feelings faded, I had convinced myself that she must be dead, and there was nothing more for me to do. Any time thoughts of her started creeping in; I’d push them back down, distracting myself in any way I could until they simply stopped coming.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I thought about telling Maggie I was sick. If I looked half as bad as I felt, she wouldn't doubt me, but I needed to go to school and speak to Donovan. It was time to stop running, and if he was willing to risk going, though he had nothing to gain, I didn't really have a valid excuse.

I took a little extra time to clean myself up, but Maggie still shot me a questioning glance when I came down for breakfast. Luckily, she didn't say anything. Unfortunately, my luck didn't hold. Once I got to school, I kept an eye out for Donovan, but either he didn't show up that day, or he was purposely avoiding me.

After dropping me off at home, Maggie went back to her antique shop. She’d been gone a lot since my arrival, and Landry could only do so much on his own. She was woefully behind on paperwork, and after a lot of convincing on my part agreed that the Vanguard unit that was still parked on the street was chaperone enough. I had just settled down to do some reading that I’d been putting off when the doorbell rang. I was surprised to see Donovan standing there in a brown leather jacket and jeans.

"I didn't think you'd be coming over today," I said, stepping back to let him in.

"I think you're being a dolt, but you still need to practice," he said, coming in. "I don't want you getting hurt just because I'm mad."

"Well, thanks for being honest, I guess, but I've changed my mind. If you're still up for it, I'd like to go."

Donovan stood there for a moment in shocked silence.

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking at me like I was playing some kind of trick on him.

"I'm sure."

“Where’s Maggie?” he asked, glancing around as if I’d actually be talking about this out in the open if she was still here.

“With the Vanguard taking up residence out front, she decided to go to work,” I said, feeling a bit guilty. I truly hadn’t expected Donovan to come by, and even though I knew my intentions had been pure, it now seemed like I just wanted her out of the house, so that I could betray her trust.

"Okay then,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “You're not going to come back on me later and say I pressured you into this, are you?"

"No, no, it's my decision."

"Great, when do you want to go?"

"Now, before I lose my nerve, would be best. We just have to take care of my mark. That's if you can actually do anything about it."

Smirking, he walked past me into the foyer. "Of course, I can. Isn't there a cat around here somewhere? I thought I saw one sitting in the window last time I was here."

"Does it have to be the cat? I don't think Izzy's going to like that too much." I rubbed my arm, remembering the sting that had accompanied the mark. "It kind of hurt when Emily did it to me."

"Don't worry; I'm not going to be binding it entirely so it shouldn't hurt. Unless your guard’s paying close attention, it should be enough to get us by for a couple of hours, but it needs to be on something living." I doubted Agent Maher paid any more attention to me then she absolutely had to. Unless she was hoping to catch me doing something wrong, in which case she was about to get her wish.

It only took a minute to find Izzy lounging in one of her preferred sunbathing spots. Her fur was nice and warm as I picked her up and sat at the table, depositing her on my lap. Her mild protests, quickly subsiding as I stroked her thick white fur. Donovan rolled up the sleeve of my sweatshirt until the entire mark was exposed.

Though Donovan couldn't see the weave the way that I could, he deftly worked around the strands that tied it to my skin, going by touch alone. He used his awen to sever each connection until he was pulling the still intact weave away. Carefully, Donovan moved it over and placed it down on Izzy. I watched as he gently connected a few strands to her back. Izzy stopped purring, and her tail twitched a few times, but there was no other indication that it had bothered her. I deposited her back on the cushion by the window and went to grab a jacket.

I had never tried to open the veil inside before, but it was the only way to leave without risking the Vanguard seeing. Though they usually sat in a van parked out front, one or more of them occasionally walked around the perimeter, so doing it out back where we had practiced yesterday was out of the question. My heart was pounding as I lead Donovan upstairs and into my room. He helped me push the bed against the wall, opening up a clear space in the center of the room.

"Are you ready?" I asked, looking over at Donovan.

He didn't say anything, just nodding his head. He tensed slightly when my awen touched his skin and wound its way into his chest. His awen didn’t feel like I thought it would. It had the smoothness that characterized all Tuatha, but there was an odd disjointedness to it. As I wrapped my shield around it, one side of it would have a cool undertone while on the other side, it was warm, where one part felt soft, another felt hard. I’d never touched an awen that wasn’t uniform throughout, and it only furthered my suspicion that he was using something to enhance his abilities.

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I didn’t ask him about it, I’d had my secrets, and he was entitled to his. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to affect the shield. When my last strand fell in place, there was no awen detectible but my own. He handled it well, only shuddering slightly when my shield cut him off. Though I felt nothing of his awen, I wanted to be extra careful. I checked and rechecked, making sure it was tight and securely in place before directing my efforts to make contact with the veil. Walking to the edge, I looked back, surprised that Donovan hadn't moved. He was standing there, chest heaving, staring at the panel of mist.

"It's okay. I've had lots of practice. I’m actually quite good at this part." I tried to reassure him reaching my hand back behind me.

Taking a deep breath, he came up next to me, clasping my hand.

"Are you ready?"

Once he nodded, I squeezed his hand and stepped forward, pulling him with me, physical touch wasn't necessary, but I found that it usually helped relieved at least some of the anxiety. His hand trembled slightly beneath my fingers, but his stride was steady as we moved forward.

I had never purposely tried to go from one place on Earth to another without first crossing over to Otherworld, the thing with Donovan's house had been a complete accident, and I didn't want to intentionally try that for the first time when Donovan was with me, especially when I was uncertain on how much our final destination might have changed from my memories. Besides, even though he hadn’t asked, I knew Donovan was itching for a chance to see Otherworld, so I held in my mind one of my favorite spots.

I pictured a grassy field nestled between an evergreen forest and a pond, with several large cypress trees jetting out from its glassy surface. I thought about the dark shale that lined one side of the shore and the outcrop of rocks that looked almost like an elephant sitting on its back legs with its trunk extending into the water. Things that made the place unique.

It was one of the first places Ben had taken me when I was learning to traverse the veil, and with all the traveling I’d done since, it was still one of the most beautiful places I'd seen. There were no settlements for miles, and if someone happened to see us, we would be long gone before they could summon the authorities.

As we approached our destination, shapes began to take form in the mist. The ground became spongy, and the air carried the scent of moisture, moss, and the soft hint of decay that always seemed to linger around larger bodies of water. Not wanting to risk coming out too close to the water's edge, I formed the weave for the connection, but the opening didn’t appear. Instead, the mist of the veil seemed to shudder, and the weave dissolved. It didn’t fall apart like it would if I’d done something wrong, it simply melted away.

"Is something wrong?" Donovan asked when I came to a stop. I had never had trouble leaving the veil before.

"No." He was nervous enough as it was, and I didn't want to heighten his anxiety. I took a moment to double-check his shield just to be safe. "We just need to get a little closer," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

I’d give it one more shot before turning back to go somewhere else. There were several other secluded places we could come out in that would be safe enough. That’s as long as the veil let us out. I pushed down the unwelcome thought and moved forward. As we walked closer, the smell of decay grew stronger until it was nearly overwhelming.

"Where are you taking us?" Donovan forced a laugh as we both nearly gagged on the stench.

The ground beneath our feet went from spongy to swampy. Worried that we would soon be wading through water, I tried the weave again. It wavered for a moment, fading to near transparency before it took hold. Yanking Donovan forward, I drug him through the opening.

My sigh of relief died in my throat. The veil had dampened the smell, but now that we were fully in Otherworld, the rancid odor hit us with enough force to make my stomach heave. Beside me, I could hear Donovan making small retching noises. I immediately spotted the source of the smell.

A large corpse had washed up on the shore. By the looks of it, it had been there for a while. A few strands of a black mane clung to green skin that was receding from the skull. Most of the bone of its long, tapered snout was exposed, revealing a mouth of sharp serrated teeth. Two long hoofed legs jutted out from its bloated body. The bottom half, which the water brushed over as it lapped against the shore, had been eaten away so that only the bony spine of its finned tail remained.

"What the hell." Donovan brought his hand to cover his mouth and nose, trying to physically block the smell or hold back the vomit rising in his throat. I could feel my stomach quiver again, and I was glad I had been too worked up to eat much at lunch.

“Kelpie,” I said. I immediately regretted opening my mouth. You could actually taste it in the air. Half horse, half fish the kelpie was one of the odder specimens of Otherworld. Like everything else in Otherworld, it had its own kind of magic. How else could something like that swim?

The rotting kelpie wasn't the only unsettling thing. The once clear water was now covered with a thick greenish-gray moss that bubbled up every now and then as if something immense was swimming just beneath the surface. The tall cypress trees were a sickly brown and either dead or dying, their thick roots covered in black specks. A few feet from shore, the moss swelled up, and I quickly pulled Donovan back from the water's edge. I wasn't sure how far of a reach kelpies had. If it even was a kelpie. Maybe something far worse had moved in, polluting the pond.

I had been so taken aback by the lake itself that I had failed to notice that the rest of the area was just as bad. No wonder we had trouble coming through, this place barely resembled what I’d pictured. Though the ground itself was still pliant from saturation, the soft green grass had been replaced by dark, brittle blades that broke and crunched with each step. Bending down, I took my finger and pushed down on one of the blades. Its point was sharp enough to cut, causing blood to bead on my fingertip.

I started to stick my finger in my mouth but thought better of it. Who knew what kind of sickness might have infected this place. Turning around, I almost cried when I saw that the towering evergreen trees that had stood straight and proud now grew twisted and bent, their trunks covered with the same black specks that marred the cypress trees and their needles the same black as the grass that covered the ground beneath them. In the shadowy depths, I could make out currents of energy slithering against the trunks. Most of it halted at the forest's edge, but a few tendrils crept out in our direction as if they could sense prey nearby.

"The Wilds," Donovan's said, barely above a whisper.

So, this was what had the Faye considering a truce after thousands of years of conflict. I could understand why. Ben had taken me to the edge of the wilds once during training. They had seemed a little darker than the rest, the magic flowing through it a little wilder, hence the name, but otherwise, they hadn’t been that bad. The kind of place you didn’t want to venture into alone or after dark, but nothing like the nightmarish sight growing before us. This place was not only dark but diseased. No one in their right mind would willingly go anywhere near it day or night.

"You certainly know how to show a guy a good time," Donovan said, trying a little too hard to regain some of his usual humor.

"We need to leave." Not only where we too close to the shore for comfort, but I didn't like how the oily grey tendrils were making a beeline towards us.

Donovan gave no protest, and we both practically ran through the weave I had left standing, seeking the relative safety and comfort of the veil.