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Averting my eyes so she could not read the truth of my thoughts, I gave her a soft smile. “That’s what big sisters are for. Right? Now come on, let’s have a look. Here—grab a wooden stick so we can test the ground as we go along.” Quicksand could easily hide in plain view, especially this close to a bog. A good walking stick could save your life.
We slowly moved forward, testing the ground every few feet. The path between the forest and the bog was narrow—a couple of yards at the most—and we tried to keep toward the trees. Even though I didn’t really believe Chase had been dragged into the forest, I kept my eyes open. Maybe I was right; maybe we’d luck out and find a trace of him along the trail.
Delilah and I fell into an easy rhythm. The chill of the air kept us alert, as did the hum of whatever insects were able to brave the cold. I wasn’t sure what they were, but it wasn’t the lazy drone of bees or the sunset chirping of crickets. No, this was more a buzz, then a pop, pop, pop. I looked into the trees, searching for birds, and saw several—a hawk in one branch, unmoving but very aware.
In another tree, several starlings watched over the forest, along with the inevitable crows. Crows and ravens, symbols of Morgaine. Could she be nearby? But a little voice inside whispered: There are more entities who have dealings with the black birds than just Morgaine. Be cautious. Stay alert.
We picked our way along, tapping the ground, looking for signs of Chase. After fifteen minutes, I was almost ready to give up and turn back when something shiny on the ground caught my eye. It was in a tangle of huckleberry up ahead, lying partially beneath a dying fern.
“What’s that?” I pointed to the object.
Delilah, using her stick to prod her way over to the bushes, knelt by the bush and gingerly reached to pick it up. From where I stood, it looked like a bracelet. She flipped it over to gaze at the backside, then looked up at me.
“Chase’s watch. I bought it for him for his birthday this summer.”
She’d had it inscribed. I’d been there when she asked them to engrave From your favorite puddy-tat. Love, Delilah on it. I swallowed a lump in my throat. Even though she was happy with Shade, Chase had given her something no one else ever would: her first chance at love.
I made my way over to her and we hunted around the bush, finally discovering a small trail leading into the forest. It was covered by detritus—decaying leaves, fallen needles from the conifers, and other signs of winter—but it was there. And as we looked closer, we could see the indentations in the mulch. Again, it appeared as though someone had been dragged along through here.
“Come on,” I said, feeling the first ray of hope I’d experienced since Chase disappeared.
We broke through the brush, stumbling along, following the trail until we came to a ring of toadstools.
A faerie ring. Magic emanated from them, old magic, trickster magic, and I sucked in a deep breath. As sure as I knew my own name, I knew that Chase had entered this ring, but not come out. Somebody had whisked him away.
“The Bog Eater?” Delilah’s voice was thin.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. No, this is Fae energy—Elder Fae, most likely, but not the Bog Eater. And I’m sorry, but we can’t go through that ring. We have no clue where it leads. It’s even more dangerous than the bog.”
She slumped to the ground, staring at the fungi. “I can’t believe this. What the hell’s happening? We should be chasing demons—with Chase. Not trying to find out what member of our extended family swept him off.”
I hesitantly stuck my hand in the ring, holding tight to a branch of the bush next to me. My fingers instantly began to tingle, and the needle pricks raced up my arm. I yanked it out again, not wanting to tempt fate.
“We need more help. Let me see if I can find out anything else.” This wasn’t a good space in which to scry, but I pulled out the unicorn horn. Eriskel would probably bust my butt if he knew where I was with this, but it occurred to me that I might just be able to use the Elementals locked within the horn to find out more about Chase.
I took a quick look around, then settled myself against the trunk of a tree. “You keep your eyes open. When I’m communing with the horn, anything could sneak up on me and I wouldn’t know it. I don’t trust this place.”
I held the horn in my hands, the cool crystal resonating through my body with a satisfying tingle. Here was magic I understood, magic that I knew. Of course, at first it hadn’t been that way—I’d been scared spitless when I realized that I was being given possession of the artifact. But now . . . I guess we learn and grow and adapt.
Closing my eyes, I took a long, slow breath and felt myself spiral inward, into the horn, into the energy, into the core. A dark chasm opened up and I fell, deep and long, diving inward. Down I tumbled, head over heels, spinning in a vortex of spiraling silver and gold. The winds raged around me as I aimed for the center star—a single shining point on the horizon. As it approached, I held my breath, hoping to land softly.
Thunk. I hit with a shudder that raced through me like thunder. And then, standing, I glanced around and found myself in the little room where I had first discovered the secret of the horn. A table and two chairs sat in the center, much like a garden patio set, and on each wall was fastened a large mirror, like a picture window.
On the south wall was a mirror reflecting a bronze desert, and there, in a flowing dress fashioned of molten lava, with hair burgeoning around her like hardened black pillow lava, stood a beautiful woman whose skin glowed with the color of sunset. She bowed.
I curtsied in return. “Mistress of Flames.”
Against the west wall, the mirror showed a watery ocean rippled with cresting waves, and their roar echoed out of the picture as a merman rose out of the depths, leaping like a silver flash through the air, then back into the water. He rose again, shook his long mane of kelp-colored hair, then turned jet black eyes on me and inclined his head.
I nodded. “Lord of the Depths.”
To the north wall, within the glass I could see a tangled forest with mountains rising in the distance. The Elemental who stepped forward was wearing a frosty cloak over a green robe beneath, and the faint scent of spring clung to the dryad look-alike.
“Lady of the Land.” I nodded to her.
Lastly, I turned to the east and a ray of early-morning sunlight came shimmering through the glass as a stalwart man flew into the picture, astride the back of an eagle. They landed on the craggy mountaintop and he dismounted and fell to one knee, his leather armor brown against the flaxen strands of his hair.
“Master of the Winds, I am glad to see you again.” I wasn’t ever sure what to say, but the ritual didn’t seem set in stone. And I truly was becoming fond of them. Even though I’d seen them only a few brief times, I could feel them with me whenever I carried the horn.
