Page 53 of Hidden Kingdoms

A wave of energy rolled over me, and I tensed under its onslaught, fingers gripping the edge of the chair, nails scrapingagainst the wood as I realised I couldn’t fight against it. It was coming from me. I sucked in a breath, vision flickering, as I relented allowing it to take its own direction.

I was within a thicket of trees, a small path winding ahead that brought with it the unsettling familiarity of deja-vu as birds sang an unfamiliar song from high in the branches. Craning my neck, I searched for them, but their tiny forms were quicker than I could follow. Sunlight filtered lazily to the dark, packed earth, painting stripes of light along the path. Small orbs danced in every beam, falling and rising. Cool air blew around me, my hair lifting in the breeze.

Ivy clung to the trees, clawing higher in its own fight to the canopy while bluebells stood thickly at their base, sweet scent heavy in the air. On those that weren’t blanketed in ivy, large runes had been carved, causing sap to drip from the cuts, slowly beading down the bark.

The symbols changed and shifted as I tried to focus on them, their shapes teasing the edge of my memory. Blinking as I passed through a beam of light, tiny orbs landed on my skin, glowing as they sunk into me and sending shocks through my body, igniting my magik. It wasn’t painful and my body yearned for more. Tipping my head back I revelled in their touch.

The noise of the birds faded, and as I opened my eyes, I was back looking out at the trees instead of being underneath them, skin buzzing as though I really had absorbed that energy.

Had I teleported or something?

No, I hadn’t physically moved from this chair; the warm cushion under me was proof of that. Had my mind left this room or had the image of the trees found its way to me? Was it thesame as what happened earlier? That had felt like my conscience had been pushed from me, rushing forward on its own to see things that weren’t happening around me. Through a door I had then been brought to, a conversation between two men. About a fountain and someone putting their hands in the water.

A conversation, I knew somehow, was about me.

Because I had done that, ran my hands through the water of a fountain before I came inside the palace. I didn’t want to acknowledge that their voices had rung with a note of familiarity, the question of their hazy forms no longer a question at all. My skin tingled in remembrance of the orbs sinking into me as I compared the two moments.

Moments. Is that what I’m calling them now?

Briar’s words rang in my head,“You had another vision, didn’t you?”

An ache broke through my heart as I thought of her and Nanna back home, worried about me. Had she stayed or flitted away again? I hoped they were together.

The thought of them was heavy, it was lead coursing through my veins. I couldn’t deny that even if I did get out of the palace—which was proving difficult—I had no hope of getting home without even knowing where I was.

22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ELODIE

Ineeded something to do. I couldn’t sit here throwing myself a pity party and staring out the window, or I would go crazy. It was draining being in a room that was sonot me.

I missed my own things. My messy bed and all its pillows, my shelves stuffed with books. I missed pulling a tarot card every morning and eating pizza with Polly. I missed wearing my own fucking clothes and being able to leave a room when I wanted to.

How long had it been since I’d made something?

If only the TV worked I could kill some time, because there was literally nothing to do but contemplate the shitshow my life had become.

My joints groaned as I stood, stiff from disuse, and as I frowned at the sun now dipping low in the sky, close to the horizon, I realised I had somehow lost a large chunk of time. Had I been daydreaming that hard?

Daydreaming. Moments.

I could hear Briar’s laughter at my denial as though she was next to me, but I couldn’t go there right now. I already had enough to sort through.

I needed a way to keep track of everything Kaius told me, then I could figure a way to get home. Or even contact Nanna somehow. There had to be a phone somewhere?

I scanned the room, landing for a second on the fluffy white peony, before finding nothing I hadn’t already looked at a hundred times before. Sighing, I sat on the end of the bed, absently trailing patterns in the blanket and willing myself not to forget a single thing he had told me.

As the only unit—other than the sky—that I had to measure time by pounded at the door for a third time, a prickle of unease crawled down my spine as I realised how much time I had lost. But there was the flicker of possibility I would be getting my hands on some books. With that thought, I flew to the door wrenching at the handle—that now conveniently opened—to see the tall lady, beads clacking gently and a tray held in her hand.

But not one with a book on it.

Frustration rippled through me at the stupid smile on her stupid face, and I grabbed the tray. Kicking the door shut, I slammed it onto the table, liquid spilling from the bowl of soup to splash onto the tray.

One thing, I’d asked for one fucking thing.

Energy swirled within me, feeding an anger that I knew logically was ridiculous. There was no reason to be so mad about not getting a book, but I couldn’t stop it, emotions escalating as my fingers burned with the need to release it. I was fully aware I was behaving like a child but I couldn’t pull myself back.

---