Page 49 of Faerie Fate
“You couldn't have done that before?” Bronwen screeched. Her volume sent needles into my brain.
“Where’s the fun in that? It’s only amusing when they put up a fight. They weren’t nearly as clever as they thought they were.”
“Clever enough to wound Tavi.”
“Hey now, I stopped when I saw her injury.” Poppy’s hands went to her hips. She glanced down at the pile of flesh that was Lezar and kicked him. “Landed my mark, too.”
Mike glanced around for anything left intact and ended up having to drag one of the booth tables away from the wall. He positioned it beneath me and Bronwen. She was the first to get down but my arms were locked around the rafter.
“Come on,” Mike urged. “I’ve got you.”
Mike and Bronwen helped me down. Blood had soaked clean through the fabric he’d tied around my wrist.
I ignored the clinical feeling of Mike’s hands on my waist as he helped me, ignored the way he looked away before meeting my eyes. My knees held only long enough to get me to the ground and then Noren was there to keep me upright.
Poppy strode over, every footstep heavy and echoing, and groaned when she saw the injury. Deft fingers untied Mike’s hasty knot.
She glared at my split skin. “Don’t you have enough sense to keep from getting yourself sliced open?”
Complaining under her breath, she tossed the blood-soaked piece of fabric away and reached into one of the little pouches across her weapon belt. From the inside, she drew out a bright red square of cloth.
She wrapped it tightly around my wrist, cutting off the fresh flow. “Looks like you’re coming with me. Come on.”
“It will heal on its own,” I ground out, ignoring the bodies around us. “I’m fine.”
They were still breathing. Whatever spell she’d used had only knocked them out. When they came to, however long it took, they’d be furious. We had to be far away before that happened.
“You’re not fine, and insisting you are won’t change that.” Mike hauled me to his side. He kept a firm grip on my elbow to make sure I didn’t take off. “We’re going withher.”
“Finally, someone has a little sense rather than a thick skull,” Poppy muttered.
I clutched my wrist to my chest. I was okay with blood. I was okay with a wound. But the return of the dizziness did something tricky to me, shook me, brought a weakness to my knees. I let Mike and Noren hustle me out of Grove and into the steely sunlight of a chill afternoon.
Poppy was a step behind us, doing who knew what to Lezar. Within minutes, she dragged him behind her like a sack of vegetables, his hands and wrists bound with rope. The rope glowed and my chest constricted. It was the same kind of magic rope Dorian Jade’s goons had used on me, to cut off my power.
Lezar’s skull bounced off the front stoop of the tavern and sent a cloud of dust spiraling up. She hauled him clear of the building and propped him up against a post, his head lolling to the side. The ropes were tight around him to keep him from moving but the dude wasn’t coming to.
Poppy held out a hand. A pulse of power rippled out from her fingers. The moment it touched Lezar’s dusky skin, he vanished into thin air.
The pain took on a dull quality compared to my surprise. Poppy’s magic wasn’t fae magic.
Bronwen gasped, the first to put a name to what we’d witnessed. “We didn’t know you were a witch.”
The pieces clicked into place. Dammit. We should have known what she was the second we met her. If the blast of magic hadn’t given her away, how long would we have gone without seeing what was right in front of us?
“Because I didn’twantyou to know. Clearly,” Poppy replied, annoyed. Her brow furrowed as she refastened the edges of her cloak around her neck. “It’s not as if this is something I advertise, is it?”
Her gruffness helped clear a little bit of fog from my mind. Maybe Mike was right. Maybe Poppy really could help us find Oxana the Sightless.Do witches keep track of each other?
Poppy certainly had much more than normal levels of magic at her disposal.
“What are you staring at?” She rolled her eyes again. “Get yourself together and let’s go.”
She waved her hand and her magic wrapped me in a blanket of warmth, whisking me off my feet. The air sucked right out of my lungs, a strong pulling sensation in the lower part of my body maneuvering me wherever she wanted me to go, as bound as though I were her prisoner.
Wind tugged at the ends of my hair before the spell landed me and the others at the front door of a cabin in the woods.
The same gray sky pressed down on us from overhead, but the staggering height of the nearby pines turned the world to shades of gray. Mist and rock covered the forest floor. Staggered, I fell to my knees.
