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His gaze met mine, green eyes holding a hint of disbelief. “It’s only been three hours since we were attacked.”
I stared at him. “Are you sure that thing is working?”
“Positive.” He twisted his arm to show me the watch. “We must have gone through some sort of time slip.”
“Do you think that’s what the barrier was?”
“Maybe, although it would have taken at least a couple of hours for us to reach that point, and more to return. Somewhere along the way, time actually stopped.”
Which should have been impossible, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that when you were dealing with the old gods, there was no such thing as “impossible.”
We were halfway down the slope when I noticed the chimney’s absence. I stopped abruptly and only then realized it was deep, old forest that lay below us rather than a scrappily treed quarry.
“Toto,” I said softly, “I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
Lugh stopped beside me. “Well, fuck. It would appear that not only did time stop, but the tunnel configuration was altered to redirect us.”
“Wouldn’t we have felt the movement through the stone if reconfiguration had happened?”
“Not necessarily. Not if magic was involved.”
He turned and pointed his flashlight back up the mountainside. It definitelywasn’tthe same cavern. The entrance to this one was pointed and angular, with jagged rows of rocks running along its upper rim that made it look like an animal readying to take a bite. I hadn’t noticed the “teeth” when I’d walked out, probably because I’d been too intent on escaping the gloom and getting fresh air into my lungs.
“I don’t suppose you recognize where we are?” I asked.
He swung the light around in an arc. “Nope, but that forest below us feels ancient, and there’s not many of them left in the UK these days.”
I frowned. “The only truly ancient forest near Cheltenham is the Forest of Dean, and that has to be at least twenty-six—or more—miles away from the Chimney. We certainly didn’t walk that far.”
“Perhaps not, but if the magic can reroute us without us noticing, why couldn’t it also jump distances?”
I guess that was no more impossible than anything else that had happened. I scanned the area, looking for some sign of civilization. Beyond the swath of lovely old trees, lights twinkled, distant and inviting.
“How many hours do you think it’ll take to get there?” I asked, pointing.
“Only one way to find out,” he said cheerfully, and walked on.
I sighed and traipsed after him. I might have the godly blood, but he definitely had godly energy.
We entered the forest ten minutes later, and it felt like we’d come home. The music of the trees was rich and vibrant, their song so powerful it vibrated through every part of my being, making me feel alive in ways I couldn’t even begin to describe. It was heady and enriching, and I could have walked through these ancient woods forever and not complained.
It was with more than a little regret that we left the warm chatter of the trees and followed the road into the village—Staunton, according to the signs. We found a small but lovely old inn on its outskirts and Lugh launched into a wild tale about us taking an off-trail shortcut, getting lost, and falling down a ridge to explain our less-than-pristine condition. By the time he’d finished, the innkeeper had not only given us his best rooms but arranged for our clothes to be washed and dried overnight and ordered a couple of pizzas for us.
After a long, hot shower, I wrapped myself in one of our borrowed dressing gowns then reapplied the antiseptic and stuck a wide plaster onto the messy scratch on my face. Which hurt like hell after said hot shower, but all things considered, we’d both gotten off relatively lightly. The speed of our impact could—should—have caused far worse wounds.
I scooped up my clothes and shoved them in the laundry bag, leaving it outside the door as ordered, then grabbed the first aid kit and followed the scent of pizza into Lugh’s room.
He was stretched out on the bed, talking softly into the room’s landline. Though I couldn’t hear the person on the other end, his general demeanor suggested it was Darby. I tossed the kit onto the end of his bed, motioned for him to use it once he’d finished yakking, then grabbed one of the pizzas and headed back into my room to give him some privacy.
And to make use of the landline in my bedroom.
After all but inhaling the first slice of pizza, I dialed Cynwrig’s number and waited, my breath caught in my throat as it rang.
It wasn’t caught for long.
“Bethany?” he said, relief riding his rich tones. “Where are you? Are you okay? Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“We’re in Staunton, near the Forest of Dean, and the only things that are damaged are our phones.”
