Between The Realms Part 28

It seemed to be his way of apologizing to me for going all freaky incubus on me, so I just nodded, accepting his gesture. I turned back to Beau and said, "Nice. But it's not going to change anything."

For the first time since I'd seen an angel, I started to wonder if they weren't so different from the demons in the Underworld. Beau looked seriously scary right now. His face was dark with emotion and his presence was nothing less than threatening. I decided then, in that moment, that I needed to not p.i.s.s off any demons or angels on my quest to find a dragon. Either could be my undoing.

"Okay, soooo ... Spike and I will be going now, Beau. Thanks anyway for the help. I'm sure we'll be fine without it."

"You cannot enter without escort," he said, his voice deep and almost booming.

My throat closed a little, necessitating that I clear it a few times before my voice would work properly again. "Well, I'd appreciate it if you would be our escort, but if you don't want to, I will understand."

Beau's wings slowly folded back in, the flapping of the stiff feathers against one another a reminder that these things actually worked to fly his huge body up into the air. It was unbelievably awesome and intimidating at the same time. I hoped like h.e.l.l that one day I'd have a pair and not a set of claws and a leathery hide instead.

"I will take you, if you can get yourself into the realm." He quickly faded out to a bright light and then nothing, leaving Spike and I alone in the meadow.

Spike heaved out a sigh that sounded a lot like relief. "Well, that went well."

"Remind me not to p.i.s.s off angels in the future, would ya?"

"You can count on it." He stepped over to be next to me. "So what's next? Are we outta here?"

"Yeah. We're blowing this popsicle stand." I hitched my bag up high onto my back. "Hold my hand. I'm going to see what I can do to get us thrown into the Overworld."

"Thrown?" asked Spike in a weak voice. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"It's not literal," I said, smiling. "Just watch and learn." I closed my eyes, picturing all of the fae in the compound and those who might be wandering around the forest anch.o.r.ed to the ground with tree roots, hoping that I might be including the posse on the council's list. I left Spike and myself out of the equation, instead asking the elements Earth and Water to come join us and work their magic into sending us where we needed to go.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE.

THE GREEN SURGED UP FROM the earth and covered us with its power, pulsing and rocking over and around our bodies. I was using too much maybe, but I was missing Ben's elements and thought maybe just a lot more of mine might do the trick to overcome the pieces of the mix that I didn't have at my disposal. The air crackled with the unbridled energy.

Water came next, roaring as a giant wall of liquid blue that slowly built up to surround us, putting us in the center of a tunneled spout that rose up high into the sky.

"Jayne!" yelled Spike, stark fear on his face.

I squeezed his hand back but said nothing, closing my eyes to the evidence of my power. The last thing I needed was to freak myself out in the middle of everything.

Elements, send us to the Overworld. I need to see the angels and the dragons who call that place home. Keep the fae who are rooted to this realm here. Send my friend and me to the Overworld, please. I cannot stay here and fulfill my responsibilities to this place without this.

My body was suddenly lighter, and it felt as if I were slowly lifting up from the earth. "I think it's working, Spike!" I said excitedly. My hair was swirling around my head in a tangled mess. My tunic was plastered to me, soaked with the moisture in the air.

I heard the sounds of a runaway train, screeching its whistle so loudly it sounded like the engine was in my head. I lost my grip on Spike's hand and knew he was instantly far from me, no longer in my sphere of influence. I screamed out his name, "Spike!" but the word came back to me a m.u.f.fled, incoherent mess. I knew he'd never hear me in all of this. And then the roar of the train began to fade and for a moment, I thought I was safe.

One second I was standing in the meadow with the sounds dying down, and the next, I felt myself separated from the ground and thrown through the air, the sound of rus.h.i.+ng wind, water, and energy going past my ears at a furious pace. I wasn't with Spike anymore, and I prayed he was safe somewhere, but my heart soared with the idea that soon I'd be standing in heaven, gazing upon the beautiful angels and very possibly seeing Chase again.

But then all of my visions suddenly came to a very sharp end, when I hit the dirt and tumbled a.s.s over teakettle through the brush and leaves until I finally came to a stop at the base of Maggie's tree.

CHAPTER FORTY.

I STOOD SLOWLY, GINGERLY, FEELING all my parts, hoping none of them were broken. So far, so good, I said to myself, wincing when I touched my elbow with my fingers. Skinned. Great. I looked around, smiling through the pain when I saw Spike emerge from the trees to my right. He looked as terrible as I felt.

"Well, that was a h.e.l.l of a trip," he said. "Are we there yet?"

I snorted. "I don't know. I kind of expected something a little more glamorous than this."

"Yeah. Me too." He pulled several twigs out of his hair and then reached over, taking some leaves out of mine.

"Thanks."

"You look terrible," he said, trying to smooth down his tunic, which had gotten very wrinkled.

"You don't look so hot yourself, there, cube-eye."

He smiled at me, and I was sorely tempted to take back that last comment, but before I could flirt anymore, the door to Maggie's house opened up and her s.h.a.ggy head came out.

"What are you doing out there?!" she yelled. "I'm trying to sleep!"

"Sorry, Maggie," I said, my smile disappearing. "Does this mean we aren't in the Overworld?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

When I didn't say anything back she squinted her one good eye up at me.

"Did you mean to go there?"

"Yes."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"It's a long story. Can you help?"

"No!" she said, slamming the door in our faces.

I sighed. "She totally can. I know she can." I was afraid to say that I could sense the lie in her tone. It was just way too Maggie-like to admit. I walked up to the door and banged on it hard, three times. "Open up, you old hag. I know you can help us."

"Go away!" came the m.u.f.fled voice from inside.

"I will once you've sent me to the Overworld!"

The door flew open and spittle came flying out of her mouth. "Shhh! Do you want the entire forest to know where you're going, foolish child?!"

I shrugged. "What's the big deal?"

Faster than I thought possible, she reached through the door opening and hooked her boney fingers into my tunic, yanking me towards her. I stumbled forward and felt her hot breath on my neck as she hissed, "Evil treads here! Hush your mouth, lest you attach it to yourself!"

I reached down to detach her from my s.h.i.+rt. "Okaaayyy, whatever you say, Mags. Can we come in or what?"

The door opened another few inches. "If you must," she said, before shuffling away from the entrance.

I looked back at Spike. "That's about as much of a welcome as we're going to get, I think."

He shrugged. "I've gotten less and been rewarded. I'm not picky."

I smiled, turning to go into Maggie's house, gesturing for Spike to follow me. The door creaked inwards, allowing the stench from her cooking pot to fully enter our noses.

"Oh, man, what the h.e.l.l?" said Spike, reaching up to cover his mouth and nose.

I quickly switched to breathing through my mouth. "I have no idea." I looked over at Maggie, worried about getting too close to her brew. There was a black and white clump of fur on her table. "f.u.c.k me ... Maggie ... is that a skunk?"

She ignored me, stirring her brew slowly.

"I think it's a skunk," said Spike, also breathing through his mouth now. "What kind of spell uses skunk stench?"

"Nothing good," I said before turning my attention back to the nutty witch. "We need to get to the Overworld, like now, Maggie. I tried to do it myself, but I guess without Ben's help it's not going to work."

"So you've come to me once again," she said, not looking at us. She increased her volume about five notches and spoke again, looking over at her shelves. "Did you hear that, Melvin?! She's come to us for help again!"

Her giant rat's dirty nose peeked out from between some dusty bottles and wiggled around a little, bobbing up and down as he gathered the scents into his head. I swear I could tell the exact moment his nose caught wind of that brew she had cooking up. The twitching and wiggling stopped and the rat backed into the darkness behind the bottles faster than I thought his fat a.s.s was capable of moving.

"That's probably a bad sign when the witch's pet rat doesn't even like the smell," said Spike quietly in my ear.

"Tell me about it," I said softly. I raised my voice. "So can you help us, Maggie?"

"Everything is negotiable. I thought I told you that before."

"Oh, yeah. How could I forget? What do you want this time? I don't have any pixie wings with me."

She cackled. "Don't be so sure about that. But that's not what I want. I want something else."

"Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."

"Not from you," she said, finally looking up. "From him!" She poked her spoon in Spike's direction, causing both of us to jump.

Spike pointed to his chest. "Me?"

"Yes! You! What are you? Deaf?!"

"Not yet," he said under his breath. He stepped forward and raised his chin a little. "What do you want, witch?"

"Just a little tiny piece of your soul. No big deal."

Spike put his hand over his heart, his face going a shade or two whiter than it already was naturally. "My ... soul?" He turned to look at me. "She's kidding, right? Tell me she's kidding."

I shook my head. "Forget it, Maggie. No one's giving you any mimickers, so you can just think of something else."

She shrugged. "You want to go or not? This is the price."

I took a few steps forward. "I'm only going to say this one more time, crone. You're not taking a piece of my friend's soul ... or his fingers or his toes or his earlobes or his hair or anything else! No more body parts!" I was p.i.s.sed and also a little worried that this serial killer mentality she had was eventually going to drip down the family line and infect me too. I looked up at the heavens and sent up a silent prayer. Please don't let me turn into a serial killer.

"You should be thanking me, not praying for salvation, silly chit."

My mouth dropped open. "Listening in on prayers, Maggie? Another new low. How is that even possible?" I walked over to her pantry and grabbed the handle.

"Hey!" she shouted, taking her spoon out of her brew and pointing it at me.

I tried to ignore the drops that fell and made black spots everywhere they touched. Ew. Skunk stains.

"Get away from that door!" she yelled.

I yanked it open, my nostrils flaring at the musty smell that hit my face. "You have boxes and boxes of little soul parts in here. Let's just use one of those, shall we?" I gave her an evil smile and stepped into her little pantry of horrors.

I could hear her screaming behind me, but I ignored her, pulling the door closed behind me and sending a message out to the Ancient, the tree who's body I was standing in, to seal the door shut. Her banging and tugging on the handle that soon followed was fruitless.

I looked around the room, taking in the shelves and shelves of small, wooden boxes. "Hmmm, now what do we have over here?" I asked myself out loud, walking over to the nearest shelf.

Everything that had been messed up when Torrie had been in here had been put back to rights. Considering what a slob Maggie was out in the other part of her house, it was more than a little surprising to see how organized this place was. It's as if her other half - the one with rampant obsessive compulsive disorder - was in charge of the pantry filled with mimickers. Each box sat exactly the same distance from the edge of the shelf, and each was stacked on top of the other just so. They weren't always the same size and it appeared as if no two boxes were the same ... but there was a method to the organization that became clearer the longer I looked at it.

I reached up and pulled the top box off, from the shelf nearest me, brus.h.i.+ng the dust from the top of it and studying the design on top. It had a racetrack carved into it. My heart skipped a beat when I realized that I'd seen that shape before. It was on a door that I'd used many times at the Light Fae compound, before the Dark Fae had come to live with us. I traced the track in the wood, wondering what was inside and if I even wanted to know the answer to that question.

"I'm opening a box, Maggie!" I shouted at the door.

I felt a scratching through the wood, on the palm of my hand, and I almost dropped the box.

"Holy s.h.i.+t!" I squeaked out into the room around me. I held the box up to eye-level, peering at the crack where the top and bottom met. "I know you're in here, mimicker," I said softly. "I don't even know what you are exactly, but I know Maggie keeps you locked up in here." The scratching came again, and this time I only gasped a little.

"You put those boxes back!" came Maggie's angry voice from the other side. "You will cause more trouble than you're prepared to manage if you let one of them out!"

"We'll just see about that!" I said back to her. I placed my finger on the small metal clasp that was hooked into the bottom half of the box. All I would have to do to open it would be to slide the clasp to the right a little, using the tiny b.u.mp on its front so it would swing to the right and up, pulling the pointed end attached to the top out of the small hook attached to the bottom.

"Jayne, I am not playing games with you now. Leave the boxes alone." She'd lost her cranky tone and now just sounded nervous.

"Are you still going to demand a piece of my friend's soul to help us?"

"Yes. But not for the reasons you think."

I got a truth vibe on that one, and as much as this new truth-telling thing was freaking me out, I really felt like I could trust it. "Fine! I'm coming out."

I was about to put the box back on the shelf when I heard a noise coming from inside it. A whimper? No, that wasn't it. And it wasn't a cry either. A noise I couldn't even really remember when I tried to identify it.