An Artificial Night

The sounds of the forest slowly returned, and I started to breathe again. Uncurling cautiously, I stuck my head out of the hollow tree and looked around the empty clearing. If I ran, I might make it back to the plains before she found me. The threat of the Hunters had dimmed before the threat of the forest. They would just take me to Blind Michael. This woman might do anything.

Something brushed against my shoulder. I flinched, somehow managing not to scream. When I made it home—if I made it home—I was going to allow myself the luxury of a long, unhurried panic attack, but this wasn’t the time. Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Who’s there?”

For once, luck was with me. An anxious, familiar voice answered, “It’s Raj. I . . . the forest is very dark.”

“Yes. It is.” I looked to the right and saw Raj crouched beside my tree, making himself as small as he possibly could. “How did you get away from Acacia?”

“The yellow woman?” He snorted, arrogance returning as he said, “She asked the trees about invaders, but not about animals, so they didn’t tell her. Trees aren’t very smart.”

“Clever.” I meant it. When I was fourteen, I thought trees were things to climb, not things you could trick. “Why did you come back?”

“Because of her.” I looked at him blankly, and he said, “She was looking for you. I don’t think she’d have been looking for you if you worked for Him.” He paused. There was no trust in his eyes, but there was something else: the first flickers of hope. “Are you really the October my Uncle Tybalt knows?”

I sighed. “Yeah. That’s me.”

Raj frowned. “My father says Uncle Tybalt’s friend October is an adult.” He paused. “And a hussy.”

“I usually am. An adult, not a hussy.” Hussy? What the hell was Tybalt telling his Court? The King of Cats and I were going to have a long talk when I got my own body back.

“But you’re younger than I am!”

“Courtesy of the Luidaeg,” I said. Raj flinched at her name. More quietly, I said, “Your uncle asked me to get you and the others out of here, and the Luidaeg put a spell on me to make it possible.”

“You let the sea witch cast a spell on you?” The wariness vanished, crowded out by awe and fear. “And you survived?”

“She’ll kill me eventually, but not today. Today I’m going to get you out.”

“How?”

Good question. We were crouched in the middle of an enchanted forest with nothing but a hollow tree for cover, and I still had no idea where the other kids were. For that matter, I didn’t know how I was going to get them out when we found them. All I had was a knife that was too big for my hands, a candle I didn’t dare to put down, and a half-grown Cait Sidhe who kept fluxing between terrified and arrogant. There have been times when I had to work with less, but root and branch, you can only count on a miracle so many times before reality puts its foot down.

Not that there was anything else I could do. It was time to roll the dice against that miracle one more time.

“You were running from the Huntsmen before,” I said. “How did you get away?”

“It was Helen,” he said, sounding ashamed. Of course he was ashamed—no teenage boy wants to admit that he was saved by a girl. “She found a way out of the room we were locked in. None of the others would follow her. But I . . .”

“You thought it might be worth trying.”

“I thought I could find the trail they brought us in by.” He looked away. “I thought I could get us out, and Uncle Tybalt would come, and we’d destroy them.”

“How far did you get?” I asked. I hated to do it; his posture told me he was on the brink of tears, and pushing him over that edge might make him useless. I didn’t really have a choice. I needed to know whether I had any hope of saving the others.

“A long way,” he whispered. I waited, but he didn’t say anything else. He just huddled, ears pressed flat, shaking.

Right. I rose, offering him my hand. “Come on. We’re going now.”

“Where?”