Page 23 of Chaos and Crowns

Reaching the park, Odelle jumped the curb. She laid on the horn as she pulled her car onto the sidewalk, pedestrians scattering like bowling pins. Odelle took pride in her parallel parking skill, but onlookers were enough pressure. Impending creatures of darkness were a nonstarter.

Odelle and Antony leaped from the car. As they hurtled up the steps towards the Bean, Antony stumbled, knocking Odelle sideways. Her palms stung where they scraped against the concrete, clawing at the stairs before her, trying to keep her feet.

Antony grunted beside her before tumbling to the ground. At first, Odelle didn’t see the Shadow on his back; it was latched so closely to his dark jacket. A too-long clawed hand grabbed his curls and yanked his head back, tainting the wind with the smell of burning hair. Even as a choked gurgling noise ripped from his throat, Antony clutched the crown closer to his chest.

Odelle stood rooted to the spot. She had no weapon, no training—helpless as Antony rolled on the ground, trying to dislodge the creature from his back. More shadowy figures swirled up the stairs towards them.

One thought rang clear in Odelle’s mind: they wanted the crown.

She lunged forward, ripping the crown from Antony’s grasp. He shouted unintelligibly, but Odelle didn’t stop. Instead, she held the band and launched the crown at the oncoming Shadows, letting it spin through the air like a metallic frisbee.

Sure enough, the Shadow that held Antony let go with a screech, joining the fray of darkness congealing around the crown. Odelle didn’t wait to see what they did next, just hauled Antony to his feet. Together, they lurched towards the Bean. All Odelle could think about was putting distance between them and the shrieking noises behind them. The other side of the world still wouldn’t be far enough away.

It was with that thought in her mind that Odelle launched herself into the mirrored surface of the Bean, towing Antony in her wake. Instead of the vaguely familiar feeling of sparks darting across her skin, white hot wires seared at her flesh. Burning sandpaper replaced molten silk as Odelle was buffeted this way and that in darkness. She couldn’t tell which way was up as she tumbled through the void. The only certain feeling was Antony’s fingers interlaced with her own, and he tightened his grip to avoid being wrenched away from her. Odelle clung on even harder.

After an eternity, Odelle and Antony tumbled out of the blackness, head over heels. Instead of grass breaking her fall, fluffy snow crunched under Odelle’s hands and knees as she landed on all fours. No sunlight warmed her cheeks, and she squinted into the dim gray of ever-present twilight. Ahead, she could just make out craggy peaks in the distance, rising from a snowy tundra.

Odelle had gotten her wish. The portal had taken them halfway across the world.

10

Odelle wrestled down the panic rising in her throat, threatening to strangle her. She was with an immortal sorcerer who had lived long before electricity and modern comforts. They could figure out wilderness. She looked around her to see how said sorcerer was faring and grimaced.

Antony lay curled in the snow, short breaths panting out of ashen lips and clouding the chill air. If he had looked exhausted before their near-death encounter, he was barely conscious now. Odelle crouched next to him, and he feebly pushed at the ground to sit up. She helped him with an arm around his shoulder.

“I take it that you weren’t thinking about the Sanctuary when we went into the portal?” Antony looked around him. “Or did the pocket dimension develop weather in the hour we were gone?”

“I was actually thinking about getting as far away from the Shadows as possible,” Odelle explained. “On the bright side, I think I succeeded on that front.”

Antony sagged against her where he sat in the snow.

“We don’t…” His chin dipped towards his chest for a moment. “Have a way to portal back.”

Antony might have been trying to help, but right now his exhaustion was getting in the way. Odelle surveyed the nearby landscape. If Antony could just get enough rest to recover from using the Light, they could probably cook up a plan to get home.

Nearby stood a formation of dark rock, a few stubborn trees clinging to it. If nothing else, it could provide them with protection from the wind. Odelle grabbed Antony under the armpits and hauled him to his feet. He helped as best he could but ended up flinging snow in Odelle’s face in the process. She spluttered. His added weight caused her to sink deeper into the snow, hindering her ability to walk.

“Up shit creek with broken paddles,” Odelle muttered under her breath.

Together, the pair began an ungainly trudge towards the rocks. The distance they traversed was only that of a few city blocks, but between Antony’s state and the icy footing, it took them an eternity. Reaching the rock, Odelle caught sight of an indent hidden by a boulder. Calling it a cave would have been like calling her brownstone a skyscraper, but it would have to do. Antony was sliding down her shoulder, making it clear he wouldn’t be able to go much further.

The duo staggered behind the outcropping, Antony instantly slipping to the ground. Odelle dragged him a bit further in, tucking him as close to the rock and as far out of the wind as possible. He mumbled something that might have been a thank you, but his eyes were already fluttering shut, consciousness slipping away.

Odelle hesitated, hovering over him. There wasn’t anything she could do but hope that he recovered quickly and had some idea of how to get them home. After all, when Nora had exhausted herself while using the Light, all she had needed was twenty-four hours of sleep. Odelle shivered. If Antony needed that much sleep, she might freeze to death before he woke up.

Unable to stop herself, she reached out and tucked Antony’s coat tighter around him. He unconsciously wriggled into her touch, probably drawn to her body heat. At least they had been dressed for Chicago in winter. Still as Odelle put her back to Antony to sit and keep watch at the entrance to their rocky nook, she cursed herself for wearing a dress. Squatting down, she pulled her pencil skirt as far down her thighs as it would go, trying to avoid letting her bare skin touch the icy ground. Usually cold thighs were worth it for the convenience of taking her legs on and off with ease. This experience might just change her mind.

Odelle’s calves throbbed where they pressed against the sockets of her legs, thanks to all the running. As much as she ached to take them off now, she didn’t dare. Not somewhere as unfamiliar as this. Who knew what kind of creatures might think she and Antony would make a tasty snack?

At the thought of having to run from wolves, Odelle started laughing. She didn’t know where it had come from, but it was a choked sort of sound. It caught in her throat and grated deep in her chest. This was utterly ridiculous. She continued to shake with manic laughter until she realized she was no longer laughing, but sobbing. Tears froze on her eyelashes and left frosty trails down her cheeks as she hiccupped, wondering how everything had gone so terribly wrong. She had wanted to show Antony that she wasn’t beneath him just because she wasn’t a sorcerer. To prove to herself that he was wrong for rejecting her. All she had shown was that she wasn’t cut out for this. That this was Nora and the Eteria’s world, not hers. Her unwillingness to call Nora and Adam for help, to prove to them—and herself—that she could keep up with the Eteria, had shown just the opposite. Now she and Antony both might die because she handled rejection like a toddler who was told they couldn’t have a candy bar.

Odelle clutched her coat around her and shook as the events of the past few hours crashed down around her. Eventually, she collapsed sideways against the rocky wall, letting her eyes drift closed. It wasn’t like she would be able to do much if a bear decided to eat them for a snack.

* * *

A hand covered her cheek, and Odelle nuzzled into it with a sleepy grumble. Gaining awareness of the cold around her, she frowned and tried to burrow further into the warm touch on her face.

“Odelle,” a musical voice murmured very close. So it was going to be one of those dreams. The ones she liked to pretend never happened.