Page 54 of The Curse of Eternity
“This is it.” Daphne halted before a very wide and extremely tall oak. Hands on her hips, she hopped from one exposed root to the next, not once glancing up at the barren branches coiling up into the black night sky. Whispered words passed her lips, foreign and too quiet to overhear, then she placed one hand against the trunk.
A low rumble reverberated underfoot. The packed earth between the trunk and two intertwined roots suddenly caved in. Desiccated leaves tumbled into the fresh hole spanning three feet across, falling out of view, and I let out a low whistle.
“Interesting entrance…” I peered over the edge, and my stomach dropped at seeing nothing but darkness below.
“I hope nobody minds getting their hands dirty.” Quick as the squirrel I’d glimpsed out the window earlier, Daphne sat and scooted to the ledge. Lowering herself into the hole, she grasped the root system beneath the surface to descend. Her head was at ground level when she glanced up, expectant.
I sat, groaning when my hands touched the cold earth. Dirt got under my fingernails while I found my footing above Daphne’s head before following her down. Aside from the gritty earth, it really wasn’t too different from rock climbing at the local fairgrounds when Caleb and I were kids. Breath held, I dug my hands into the soil below to grasp the next hold.
“I will follow swiftly.” Drake crouched at the ledge above me. Determination set the stiffness to his jaw, but his brow pinched with concern. Offering up a weak smile, I nodded and continued down.
The skin at the back of my neck prickled, but I forced away the thought of insects crawling into my clothes. As darkness closed in when Drake descended above me, my vision distorted, trying to adjust but failing. I glanced up, but everything was hazy. Bright spots flecked my sight, and Daphne called out, “Not much further!”
When she spoke, it sounded like her voice came from above and below simultaneously. A streak of blinding brightness scoured my eyeballs, and I shut my eyes tight. It was like I’d been flipped upside-down as I reached toward the light. A small warm hand grasped mine, and I followed its tug upward. Grappling one-handed with the suddenly dry hot dirt, my fingers brushed over what felt like soft grass.
I inhaled deep, the air tasting like honeysuckle as I was pulled over a ledge. With flat ground beneath me, I rolled onto my back and wiggled my fingers over the smooth earth before opening my eyes. High above was the picturesque image of a crystal blue sky. No clouds marred the view, allowing the brilliant white sun at the centermost point to shine down unimpeded.
Raising my hand to block its rays, I glanced to my left at the nearby rustling. Except the majesty surrounding me made it impossible to focus on the two people standing upright beside me, or Drake lifting himself up from the crevice scarring the earth. Tears blurred my vision, but I quickly blinked them back so I could take in the endless rolling hills across the horizon.
My mouth popped open as I gazed at the distant fields of tall grass and flowers—every color, shape and kind. The overpowering juxtaposition of foliage danced in a pleasant breeze.
Strangely, I wasn’t hot in Winston’s jacket under the direct sunlight. The wind scattering dandelions and pollen in its wake made the temperature comfortable, like the perfect summer’s day. Soft footfalls behind me pulled my attention over my shoulder. A lush patch of four-leaf clovers sprouted over where the hole in the ground had been, right where Drake now stood.
His bloodshot eyes were fixed to mine, and his grayed skin stretched tight over his angular bone structure. A soft gasp passed my lips, but I couldn’t figure out why—I’d already known what he looked like in the sunlight, right?
“Oh, pity.” Irritation laced the stranger’s deep tone, enough of a distraction to make me tear my gaze from Drake’s to discover the voice’s beholder. “You’ve made it.”
Beneath a slim white tree bearing succulent fruits stood a man that wouldn’t have been much taller than me if I was standing, but he’d be hard to miss considering his vibrant red hair and pale blue eyes. Not to mention the ears, as pointy as I’d glimpsed Aiden’s back in the club. Beside him, Daphne’s round ears stood out in contrast, but their differences went beyond that.
Compared to the changeling’s dark-colored ensemble, the full faery stood out like a sore thumb in loose yellow capri pants and a pastel green vest, left unbuttoned to reveal most of his freckled white chest.
“Atticus.” Daphne waved toward where I sat and Drake stood, her gaze on the neon green grass. “This is Maria and Drake.”
“I don’t need to know names.” Atticus expelled an exaggerated sigh. “One of them looks dead, anyway.” He sniffed, like he took personal offense to the black circles beneath Drake’s sunken eyes and his corpse-like coloring. The faery waved his hand in a circular motion. “Alrighty, payment first. I don’t do the tour guide thing for free.”
“These objects ought to hold more than enough value for our safe passage.” Drake pulled out two items from his jeans pocket, handing one to Atticus but withholding the other. “You may have the second once we reach our destination.”
“What are their stories?” Atticus swiped the brooch Drake offered, and I marveled at the strange sparkling trail the accessory left in its wake.
“The brooch belonged to a woman who traded it for cash at a pawn shop during the Great Depression of the nineteen-thirties,” Drake explained, and suddenly his old-timey way of talking sounded funny. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I held back a smirk. “She walked with a cane, an injury suffered fromcontracting polio as a child. This was an heirloom, her most valued possession.”
The tone of Drake’s story turned melancholy, like he’d searched for the woman for years after buying it—intending to return it, but never finding her.Maybe I was just making stuff up.
“It will suffice.” Atticus bobbed his pointed chin toward the second treasure. “What of that?”
“This comb…” Drake paused, glancing down at it with regret. “It belonged to the daughter of a French Duke, proposed in secret to a member of the royal family in the United Kingdom, during their Regency era. However, I overheard the plot of her assassination by a family opposed to the union. I was the one to rescue her from the fire meant to kill her, and received the trinket in her gratitude.” His expression hardened, voice strained, but Atticus didn’t seem to notice, only huffed in agreement.
“A befitting trade. I commend you, dead-thing.” The faery placed the brooch into a pocket, tapping it once while smirking in greed. “This will teach those pixies to poke fun at my funds. Now—” He clapped his hands, making me jump. “Where is it you wish to go?”
“Arefu, Romania. The ruins of Poenari Castle, specifically.”
Feeling like it was time to stand up, I made the effort but wobbled immediately. A large warm hand took my arm, but I only recognized it was Drake’s when I found him standing right beside me, his expression troubled.
“Do you think the living one will last long enough for me to get my full payment?” Atticus muttered, quiet with detached speculation, and Drake shot the faery a glare.
“It’ll be fine,” Daphne assured, but her brown eyes seemed anxious when they met mine. “You’ll be fine. We’ll take care ofyou. Just try not to run off on your own, okay? The longer you’re here, the less coherent you’ll get.”
“Wouldn’t be much use to feed her, would it?” Atticus whispered, and Daphne frowned.
