Black Night

“Then Nathaniel can make one. This is ridiculous. Do you seriously think that I am going to . . .” I trailed off as the ground beneath me trembled and all the faeries went still. “What is it now?”

The leader looked alarmed. “We must go now. As quickly as you can, follow me.”

“What is it?” I asked again, but all the faeries had disappeared into the brush.

The ground shook. I heard something chittering and clicking in the darkness of the trees. It sounded like several legs thumped on the ground. Dead leaves crackled and twigs snapped as the creature approached. There was a heavy scrape of furred body on bark as it pushed through the woods.

“That sounds like a—” Beezle began, but I cut him off.

“Don’t say it. It’s not allowed,” I said, and I pushed my wings out. I have a mild to moderate case of arachnophobia. If that thing was what I thought it was, then I would probably pass out right there and wake up to find myself in a cocoon hanging from a tree. “Come on.”

Nathaniel and I flew up toward the top canopy of trees, but the branches were tightly woven and it was impossible to get above the tree line. My clothes and wings snagged on everything and my face was horribly scratched after a few minutes.

The chittering and clicking came closer. Nathaniel looked at me in alarm.

“We can’t get through,” he said.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered. “Beezle, can you squeeze through here and try to get above the trees, maybe find a place where we can fit through?”

Beezle looked at me doubtfully. “I can try. But how will I direct you from up there? You’ll never hear me, and you certainly won’t be able to see me.”

Nathaniel broke a small branch off one of the trees. He snapped it in half, muttered a word, and the ends of each branch started to glow.

“Take this,” he said, handing it to Beezle. “It will send a signal to us and guide us to where you are.”

“Magical GPS,” Beezle said, and he sounded impressed. “Okay, don’t get eaten by the giant sp—”

“Don’t say it,” I repeated. “Just go, and be careful.”

“I’d rather go up than down,” Beezle said, and as he disappeared into the branches, I had to agree.

The creature-that-shall-not-be-named in the woods seemed to have paused. We still couldn’t see it but it seemed frighteningly close. The air was dense with a strange green miasma that slowly filled the clearing. I wondered if the gas was emanating from the creature, or if it was yet another obstacle generated by the forest for me to deal with. Amarantha had a pretty effective defensive system here in the outlands. I’d probably appreciate it more if her system would stop trying to eat me.

“What do you think?” I asked Nathaniel.

“I think we should stay as high as possible,” he said grimly.

“I’m on board with that,” I said. “But I don’t think we should move too far until Beezle . . .”

I stopped as a wave of dizziness overtook me and I almost fell out of the tree. I rested my head against the bark for a minute, then resecured my grip on the branch I was seated on. It didn’t seem to help. Nausea rose up in my stomach and I gagged, trying not to boot.

“What is the matter?” Nathaniel asked. His eyes scanned the immediate area. The creature seemed to have either fallen asleep or left, because there wasn’t a sound to be heard.

Sweat trickled down my face and spine. My T-shirt was uncomfortably wet in a few moments. I folded myself over the branch so that I rested on it from face to belly, my legs straddling it like a horse. I turned my head to one side and tried to breathe through my nose. Unfortunately, breathing seemed to make it worse. My stomach twisted in knots of pain, and my chest felt tight.

“Are you sick?” Nathaniel asked. He floated down to my side, his face level with mine and his body hanging below as he flapped his wings gently in place.

I nodded a very tiny nod and closed my eyes. Looking at him hanging there was making me feel sicker.

He frowned. “It must be this fog. It’s affecting your human body.”

“Great,” I said through clenched teeth. “As if I don’t have enough to deal with. Now there’s poison gas.”

“We must get you away from here before it affects your brain,” he said.

“Bad news,” I said. “My brain’s already affected. It’s doing the tarantella with my stomach.”

Just then the creature began to move again, and it seemed to be moving a lot faster than it had before. Nathaniel reached for me.

“Carefully . . . unless . . . you . . . want . . . puke . . . all . . . over . . . your . . . jacket,” I slurred. My tongue felt heavy in my mouth and it was getting harder to think.

“I will risk it,” he said, and lifted me off the branch. He placed my head on his shoulder like I was a baby and put my arms around his neck. “Wrap your legs around my stomach and don’t let go.”

“Ooookay.”

I just wanted to go to sleep. I could hear, in a far and echoey way, the resumed chittering and clacking of the monster in the woods. It just didn’t have any urgency for me anymore. Sleep was the thing. Sleep was good.

“Madeline, do not go to sleep,” Nathaniel ordered.

“Tired,” I murmured.

“Do not go to sleep. You must listen to me. I am your husband.”

“Not yet, you aren’t,” I said, or maybe I thought it. It was hard to remember how to talk.