Page 22 of Rebel Fae
This is my memory,I thought, gazing around. Things were blurry and off-kilter, but still the same as I remembered them. There was Vaughn, Ronnie running for cover while Bael stood ready for a fight. Regina and Becca must already be inside the small dark hut. Another presence sat just outside of my line of sight. Crescent. In a long, white shapeless dress, black hair, and blindfold, she could have been a ghost. She was seeing it all. Judging me.
The scene unfolded just as it had, the running and yelling, the lashing tendrils, and fear. Only, this time, I watched myself from afar like I was merely an observer too. I didn’t feel the fear my memory-self felt. I knew how this scene played out. I was more concerned with trying to see what had attacked us. Still, the creature remained in the shadows.
I turned trying to see it better, but when I had spun one hundred and eighty degrees, a small figure came into view. She was diminutive with a withered foot and blackened wings.
“Arryn!” I cried out, starting forward, but my legs no longer worked. Panic raced through me as I realized she was standing just feet from where the creature hid. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like a memory. It felt very, very real.
“Arryn, watch out! There’s something in the brush. Come this way. Hurry!”
“Tally?” Her small, oval face turned toward me as wide eyes took in the clearing. “What am I doing here?”
“I don’t know,” I said, barely breathing as a tendril slithered out of the brush toward her. “But you need to come here. Right now.” I waved her toward me, still willing my legs to work. I tried my wings next, but they were paralyzed, too.
She walked forward, but the tendril found her foot, anyway. I watched in horror as it snaked around her ankle and tore her away from me. In an instant, all that remained of her was the echo of her scream as she disappeared into the leaves.
“Arryn!”
I staggered forward, bumping into a large male who grabbed my arm to steady me. Bael was here?
Blinking into the sunlight, I realized I wasn’t in my memory anymore, I was standing in the clearing in the light of day with everyone staring at me. What I’d seen had been a nightmare that played only inside my head, but I could still feel the terror coursing through me, raw and hot like lava. It had been so awful. Tears prickled at the backs of my eyes, but I blinked them away as everyone stared.
I scanned their faces and stopped when I found Crescent. She was smiling in the smug satisfaction of someone who took joy in another’s pain. She’d made me see Arryn on purpose.
Was it a warning? I thought it was.
“That was very educational. Thank you, Tally,” she said coldly. “Everyone else, gather ‘round. We have something to discuss.”
Ronnie and Becca shuffled up, disheveled, and scared. Vaughn appeared with Regina who looked pale and shrunken, but at least she was alive. Blood stained her teeth, so it was clear they’d given her some. Hopefully, they’d supply us with more or the problem would persist.
“You’re all here. Good,” Dr. Watts said. “We have some exciting news.” His face broke into a huge grin.
What could it be this time? Flood? Famine? A new camper who ate fae for breakfast?
We all peered at Dr. Watts expectantly, wondering what kind of fresh hell it could be.
Even though he was old, he rubbed his hands together with glee like a small child. “You’re going to love this. You all are going on a quest!”
Chapter Nine
We all exchanged confused glances.A quest? What exactly did that mean?
Dr. Watts blinked up at us from his seat on the bench. He looked expectant as if he was waiting for us to jump up and start celebrating the news.
“Aren’t you excited?” he asked, hands clasped in front of him eagerly.
Behind him, Vaughn fidgeted as he gave me a pinched glance. He knew as well as I did that whatever this man was excited about couldn’t be good. We waited to be told more, but Dr. Watts and Crescent sat tight-lipped.
“A quest for what?” I asked after waiting for a long moment and realizing they wouldn’t say more unless someone asked.
“Ah, glad you should ask,” Dr. Watts said, smiling and making his white mustache twitch.
He scooted over to the edge of the bench and pressed his legs together. Sitting up straight and arranging himself just so as if he were about to break out in song, he clapped his hands and gestured demonstratively toward his lap. The air shimmered in front of him, and the next instant, a medium-sized wooden chest with black metal bindings and a lock appeared atop of his legs.
“Thank you,” he said, waving toward the sky in no particular direction, then he glanced at us, grinning like an idiot. “There you have it. A treasure chest.”
“Ta-da,” Becca said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Giving us mattresses instead of those awful hammocks would have been better. Or Wi-Fi.”
He ignored the comment and walked toward me with the chest. “Since you seem in charge of things, here you go.” He stretched it in my direction.
