Page 127 of Faerie Hunted

How could I have made it this far only to have it end here?

I kicked again, desperate to find an indication that I went in the right direction. No matter how far I swam, no matter how hard I pushed, it was impossible to tell the surface from the bottom.

I switched direction but the water was everywhere. I was out of air.

I opened my eyes wider and the water stung, cold seeping into my pores and my blood. This really was the end of the line. Lights sparked in my eyes but they weren’t from reaching the surface. My body cried out for air and I couldn’t fight the urge to breathe anymore.

I opened my mouth and water jettisoned into the empty cavity, fast, greedy.

Sinking lower and lower.

It’s not so bad, actually…

As long as the others were fine, thenI’dbe fine. No matter what happened.

The lights sparked a final time before everything went black.

The pain lancing through me was a huge surprise. But I guessed it shouldn’t be. Why was there pain after death?

Could I not escape it even now?

My body seized, my lungs expelling the water out through my ravaged throat. I curled on my side with my eyes squeezed shut and coughed, a puddle forming beneath me.

Sick and still coughing, I huddled into a ball, clenching my stomach through wave after wave of agony.

But I wasn’t underwater anymore.

The tips of my fingers scanned over smooth stones.

Once the last coughing fit passed, I forced my eyes open, squinting against the light. Well, if I had to die, at least I’d gone someplace beautiful. Somewherenotunderwater.

I took my time pushing up into a sitting position, drawing my knees to my chest until I got the bottom back underneath me. I gasped at what I saw.

The palatial ballroom extended in every direction, with me dead center. A marble mosaic underneath formed a massive star-shaped design. Overhead, the huge domed ceiling was covered in sparkling stars, like the kind I’d seen right before I died.

Those same bright spots of light I’d thought were the last firings of my brain. Had I somehow seen this place before I came here?

I must be dead. I wanted to be shocked but there was nothing left. No feelings, no thoughts clinging any longer than a few seconds before disappearing. Even the scorching, red-hot sensation in my throat and lungs passed into memory.

Where was I?

Standing, I walked toward a wall, each of which was lined by tapestries painted in the most vivid colors. At a distance the individual threads were not visible but up close they were rainbow hues and all of them expertly woven together to form a seamless picture.

With every step that brought me closer, the jagged thrum of my heartbeat grew louder until my head roared and my pulse matched the horrible echoing emptiness. Until it blotted out any ambient sound and the sensation of the rest of the world.

“It’s Faerie,” I blurted out loud.

The tapestries were all different. The ones on this wall were scenes from history. The Great Pixie War, I realized with a start, that Elfwaite fought in fifty years ago. The one on the opposite wall was the castle, Mike’s home. The same castle I’d lived in once I came to Faerie. The turrets of the castle spires were the same, only here the stones gleamed and there were more flowers than I’d ever seen before.

A small grin crept over my features.

Whoever made these tapestries boasted no small amount of talent. A master of their trade. The pictures were detailed, carefully woven, and produced with such distinction I might have been looking at a picture. The closer I got, the more the details stood out.

Not to mention they were huge, covering the entire expanse of wall from floor to ceiling.

The third wall boasted a tapestry of the Fae Academy for Halflings, in the mortal realm.

I ground my teeth against a pang of homesickness.

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