An Artificial Night

“It’s just a little magic burn. I’ll be fine. Now hurry.” He nodded and walked back over to Katie, kneeling in the straw. “Kates? You okay?”


She smiled. The spell was working; thank Maeve for that. “Hi, Quentin. I’ve been waiting. Are you gonna take me home now?”

“Yeah,” he said, and smiled back. I don’t think she could see his tears through the illusions clouding her eyes. “I’ll take you home. Are you ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. I just don’t feel good.” She stumbled as she stood, and Quentin caught her. The tail was throwing her off-balance. Katie frowned. “I think I need to lie down.”

“It’s okay,” he said, leading her toward the exit. “I’ll get you home.”

I followed as fast as I could, trying to pretend that it didn’t hurt to leave the other locked doors behind. There were more children behind those doors, changing into something they didn’t understand, and I couldn’t save them. That much magic wouldn’t just hurt me; it might kill me, and then what would my children do? Blind Michael was going to pay for everything he’d done, but most of all, he was going to pay for making me walk away and leave those children behind. I’d come back for them if I could, but my kids needed me first. And it wasn’t fair. Life so rarely is.

Just once, I’d like to find a real hero, someone who can save the day, because I’m obviously not cut out for the job. I followed Quentin and Katie out of the stable, half blinded by pain and anger, and once we were safely hidden by the shadows of the plains, I let myself cry. I’d have to stop before we reached the forest—the kids needed me to look strong—but for the moment, it helped.

Where the hell’s my hero?





SIXTEEN



JESSICA CAME RACING OUT OF THE TREES as we approached, already sobbing. She slammed into me and buried her face against my shoulder. I managed to brace myself enough to absorb the impact without falling over, but it was a close thing; we were too similar in size for that kind of collision to be comfortable. “Aunt Birdie!” she wailed, voice muffled. “I thought you weren’t ccoming back!”

I sighed, letting go of Quentin’s hand and stroking her hair. “I’ve been getting that a lot lately.” Spike came slinking out of the woods and sat by my feet, thorns bristling as it whined in the back of its throat. I understood the warning it was giving us; we couldn’t afford to dawdle. Blind Michael promised safety once we were out of his lands—or at least he’d promised safety for the kids I’d bargained for, and I didn’t want to consider what that might mean for the rest—but he’d never said anything about leaving us alone inside his borders.

“Are you back for keeps? Can we go home now?”

“I’m back.” I looked over Jessica’s head to watch Quentin guide Katie the last few yards.

Katie had fallen into brittle silence as we walked, using Quentin as much for guidance as for balance. The spell clouding her vision could only take so much abuse, and she could keep it alive longer if she refused to see what was going on. Smart girl. I wondered numbly whether Quentin realized she’d lost a shoe, and whether, if he did, he realized that it was because her feet were already broad and blackened, more than halfway to being hooves. The changes were continuing. They were slow, but they weren’t stopping.

“Come on,” I said, shifting Jessica so that she was just clinging to my arm. “We need to get back to the others.”

“And then we’ll go home?” whispered Jessica.