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18
GREY
Don’t step foot into a single forest, and don’t reply to anything you can’t see.
Grey sank further into his seat and kept his head on a swivel as Noel navigated the woods. The anticipation for that fair folk to tickle the back of his neck with phantom breath and haunting words made his stomach clench. Fog crept in all around them, caressing his skin and sending shivers down his spine as the bike slowed to a near-crawl.
“Don’t stop,” Grey whispered, fighting against the irrational fear that he might disturb the forest or worse—accidentally summon the fair folk hunting him with how eerily it matched the first dream he’d encountered them in.
“I’m not, I’m just… trying to figure out where we are,” Noel said quietly, craning his neck.
Every bump of the uneven ground turned into an additional jitter Grey couldn’t shake until they rolled into a clearing. Despite the mist clinging to the edges of the field, Noel kicked down the stand and hopped off.
“I want to make sure we’re on the right track, okay? Let’s just stop and catch our breath for a second while I check the map.”
He unfolded it while crouching in the grass, and Grey glanced around, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants before stumbling off and stretching his legs. Pain throbbed through his limbs from how tightly he’d been holding on, and his fingers trembled as he started to dig through his belongings. His worn notebook’s soft, leather cover anchored him the second it caressed his hand, taking him back home.
The urge to sit down and let himself be consumed by the foggy blanket of the forest overwhelmed him until Noel crouched down. “I think we’re here?” he said, doubt creeping in as he pulled out his compass. “Which means that if we keep going in the direction we have been, it should dump us out in this little town, here.” He jabbed a finger to a marked point east of Ivywood. Far east of Ivywood.
“Are you sure we’ll even make it there before dark?” Grey asked, his brows knitting together as Noel held out the compass in front of them.
“If we’re quick, yeah.” The needle wobbled and pointed dead ahead of them, dipping Noel’s concentrated look into a frown. “That can’t be right.” He jiggled it, and it spun to land somewhere between its previous mark and the way they had been heading. “What the hell?”
“Maybe we veered off the path some?”
“If it was a little off, I’d buy it, but there’s no way we’ve been traveling northward this whole time.”
“Then why?—”
The needle moved again, spinning around once and landing in the complete opposite direction. “Motherfucker,” Noel hissed. “Get back on the bike. I bet that damn doctor is messing with crystals or something to get us lost long enough for him to catch up.”
Grey rose with Noel, glancing around the edges of the misty clearing. “I think he’d have to be pretty close to do anything like that. I can’t imagine he would’ve caught up by now. Don’t lithomancers have to be practically next to someone to do anything to them?”
“I don’t know,” Noel hissed, seizing Grey’s arm and pulling him back to the bike. “Looks like we’re going to fumble our way through the woods with my sense of direction to hopefully guide us out.”
Grey hesitantly climbed back on, watching Noel as he crinkled the map in his hands and flipped it over a couple more times. He mounted the bike again and revved the engine once he tucked the map into his bag. A whisper under his breath, and they started back into the trees.
Everything sounded muffled and disturbingly quiet as he strained to listen to whatever wild animals lurked in the depths of the leafy green foliage they rolled past. No chirps of birds or skittering of chipmunks. Grey searched for eyes hovering in the dark recesses of the far-out trees, and he sank down against Noel while praying nothing peered back at him. The odds of it being something mundane dwindled with each passing second. His ears pricked at each revolution of the tires against the underbrush, and his heart hammered a little harder as the fog ebbed to show the sun hidden behind the clouds.
The gentle chatter of insects interrupted the mechanical noise left in their wake, finally lulling Grey into a somewhat relaxed state. He closed his eyes and absorbed each little chirp like a familiar chorus he’d soaked in before bed every night.
Kay. Kay. Kay.
Hey. Hey. Hey.
Grey. Grey. Grey.
He tensed, his eyes flying open and searching for the source of the noise. It was bugs. Just bugs.
A giggle cut through that explanation.
Poor little Grey. So tired. So distressed.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Whatever this was, it didn’t sound anything like the first fair folk that had been hunting him. Instead, this one was cheerful and bright instead of husky and dangerous.
Why don’t you just come sit for a while? Come rest.
Revulsion worked through him, and his arms tightened around Noel just long enough for him to glance in his mirrors. “Something wrong?”
