No doubt Carnell keeps them just hungry enough.
“Here. Gray, you don’t need much. A spark is good.” Finn hands him the phone, pointing to the thin piece of metal no longer than a fingertip.
“No pressure, but too much and we are Crocodile Dundee-ing this break-in.” Finn’s lips tilt in an encouraging smile.
“No pressure, he says. Well, fuck me.” Grayson holds the cracked-open case in his hand, toeing the edge of the moat.
A rustling slither sounds behind him and a snap of sharp teeth, but Grayson focuses on what he can do to get them inside.
Tuning the noise out, he whispers, “Goddess, let this work.”
Pointing the phone at the door as he draws on The Plain.
The Plain is waiting, as it always is now.
Calling forth the smallest sliver of power, Grayson draws it through his soul, through his fingertip, and into the phone’s components.
Nothing happens.
This isn’t going to work, and if he can’t do this small thing, how is he going to fight the all-powerful Withers hopped up on soul magic?
Self-doubt burns in his chest and behind his eyes, but he feels a gentle tingle across his bond with Nix. It’s the same size as the tiny sliver he’s trying to use to hit the right frequency of the door opener, but it lights him up, reminding him he’s not in this alone. Whether they’re here beside him or inside the castle’s walls, they’re in this together.
Bolstered by the thought, he entwines that silvery tingle with a strand of blue and tries again.
Still nothing.
Jay’s hand is firm on his shoulder. “You can do it, Pretty. Concentrate.”
Squinting, Grayson tries again, this time looking right at the flashing red light on the receiver and drawing more. He pulls on the carmine red thread he remembers steering the other colorsin his vision of The Plain—moving, pulling, shaping the others in a single cohesive direction.
Come on, come on.
Ignoring an ominous thud from behind him, he sends that last bolt into the phone with a hiss and a pop, watching as the light goes solid red and a grinding noise fills the dark.
The triggered drawbridge slides quickly and smoothly over the water to rest on the grass, inches from his feet. There’s a pop and a whoosh as the door pops open a crack.
“Yes!” Rowan yells behind him.
Grayson turns in time to see Rowan throw a ten-foot-long alligator back into the moat, where it lands with a splash. Wiping his hands on his pants, he grabs Finn around the middle before racing across the drawbridge, his proud, “That was awesome!” trailing behind.
The sound of the extending drawbridge acts like a signal, and their sharp-toothed audience slithers away into the moat. Like scaly, reptilian Pavlov’s dogs, they slip into the water to await whatever the noise means for them.
It does not bear thinking about.
“Good job, Pretty. I knew you could do it,” Jay whispers in his ear, sending a jolt of pleasure to his core, both from the praise and the soft lips on his ear.
“I don’t mean to alarm you, but Ro—” Finn calls from inside.
“Fuck.”
“Shit,” he and Jay say at the same time.
It puts a huge smile on both their faces as Jay grabs his hand and they race across the moat and into the dark.
24
Strained By Dark and Ruin (Grayson)
