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And then I heard a voice that I had never expected to hear. It came up from behind me, welcome and yet so out of the blue that I almost fell, whirling around to see if it was who I really thought it might be.
“Camille? What are you doing here?”
There, right in front of me, stood Chase.
Chapter 11
“Chase! Oh Chase!” Overjoyed, I raced forward and threw my arms around him. Even though I was only on the astral in spirit, it still felt real and right now I needed a friendly face more than anything. I burst into tears, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Here now . . . it’s okay. I’m alive. I’m just surprised you managed to find me. I’ve been out here wandering around for a while.” He slowly disengaged me and smiled down at me. “How long have you been looking for me? How much time has passed? I haven’t been gone for years, I hope?”
I shivered, slowly realizing that he had no clue as to what was going on. Of course he wouldn’t—he was off in his own private hell.
“Chase . . . I’m sorry . . . I didn’t come out here looking for you, though I’m overjoyed I found you. I’m trying to contact Smoky or Morio or Trillian. Listen—please, I may not have much time before they force me out of trance. Hyto caught me. He’s holding me in the Northlands, setting a trap for Smoky. If you somehow find your way off the astral before they know where I am . . . please, tell them. And tell them . . . I love everybody.”
Again, the waterworks hit and I burst into tears again. Chase stared at me for a moment, then pulled me into his arms and rested my head on his shoulder, patting my back.
“Ssh . . . it will be okay. I’ll find my way out and we’ll come rescue you. Has he hurt you? Are you . . .” He stopped, then shook his head. “You don’t have to answer that.”
I hung my head. “He’s got something horrid in store for me. I know that. He’s roughed me up a bit so far. But Chase—” My voice came low and raspy. “I don’t think I’m going to get out of this one. Not without major damage. If at all. Promise me, if . . . if he kills me before I can get away, you will keep watch over my family?”
Chase nodded; I could feel his head bob. Feeling a little better, I cleared my throat and pushed away, drying my eyes. I wasn’t the only one wandering lost right now. “What about you? Where are you? We followed you up to a mushroom ring, but we couldn’t go through without knowing what was on the other side. Does the Bog Eater have you?”
He cocked his head, looking confused. “The Bog Eater? I don’t like the sound of that . . . whatever he is. I’m not sure where I am, to be honest. Some old hag with more hands than I care to think about yanked me through the portal and raced off with me. She reminds me of a spider. I managed to get away; I got my gun out and fired, but by then I was lost and had no clue what was going on. She caught me again, reeling me in by a silken thread, and carried me through the mushroom ring. I was tucked away in a mound, tied up. She kept feeding me honey and bread, and poking me with one of her hands.”
“We found your gun and your watch. Delilah has them.” I grimaced. His adventure sounded about as pleasant as what I was going through. “Just how many hands does she have?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but at least five or six. I was seriously afraid she was going to eat me, and I don’t mean a blow job by that. I finally decided to try to use whatever powers I’m developing and . . . well . . . I ended up here. I’m not sure how . . . I don’t even know if my body is here.”
I focused on him, reaching out to trace the outline of his aura. It was firm, solid . . . What the fuck? Chase had managed to propel himself onto the astral in body? How had he done that?
“Dude, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re here. Fully. In body. Listen—you be careful. There are a lot of nasty creatures out here on the astral, but if you’re cautious you might be able to find someone to help you get home—”
Everything began to blur and I realized that I was phasing out. Hanna must be shaking me. “I’ve got to go. Please . . . be careful. Be safe. Find your way home.” And then, without so much as a blink, I was back in the tub, and Hanna was taking the washcloth away from me and forcing me under the water.
I sputtered, clawing at her hands, trying to break the surface. After another moment, she let up and I broke out of the water, gasping.
“What the fuck are you doing? Trying to drown me?” I spit out a mouthful of the musky-tasting water and looked for something to wipe my eyes, which were burning.
She handed me a towel of a surprisingly soft weave and motioned for me to wipe my eyes. “I asked you to wash your hair and you did not listen.” After taking the towel back, she handed me the soap. “Now lather up your locks and then rinse again. And be quick or I’ll do it for you myself.”
Glaring at her, but realizing it would be a mistake to point out that I’d been in trance and not paying attention, I rubbed the soap on my head and then rinsed the suds out of my hair. Hanna grunted, then motioned for me to stand up. Reluctantly, I came out of the warm water and the chill of the cavern struck me before she could wrap me in a fresh towel. I huddled beneath the drape, trying to stay warm, as she led me to the edge of a fire pit and bade me sit on a bench.
As I sat down, she took the towel and replaced it with a blanket, then took a rough comb and slowly began to brush the tangles out of my hair. After a moment, I heard what sounded like a choking sound, and when I turned, I saw tears in her eyes. She was biting back a frown.
“Hanna? What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, but then after another moment said, “I used to brush my little girls’ hair. I would brush and brush, then braid up their locks. They loved it. It was our special time each day, after all the chores were done. You remind me of one of them. She took after her father, with dark hair and pale skin.”
That could be useful, I thought, then sighed at my own ruthlessness. But I was fighting for my life. I had to use anything I could.
“What was her name? How old was she?”
“She was a maid, old enough to marry but still young. Her name was Sifonar. She was . . . she was beautiful, and so many young men wanted to marry her. But she didn’t want to wed—not yet. She wanted a life of adventure. Now . . . now I have no idea whether she lives or dies. I’ll probably never see her or her sisters again,” she said quietly, her brushstrokes becoming a bit more gentle.
I bit my lip, then inhaled slowly and let out my breath. “That feels good. Thank you.”
“Hrmph.” Hanna frowned as I glanced over my shoulder, but she continued the brushing and within ten minutes, my hair was drying and beginning to curl into its natural wave. I said nothing else, just crouched toward the flames, trying to stay warm.
