creepy hollow 05 - a faerie's revenge (23 page)

“Wait, hang on,” he says as I turn to go. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you want to come in?”

I look past him uncertainly. “All right.”

He pulls the door open fully and steps back. I walk inside. His room looks far more lived-in than mine. The old writing desk that stood in his Underground home is here, along with some of his paintings. A second table holds closed jars of paint, paintbrushes, dirty rags, and all his tattooing ink and equipment. Breathing in, I catch a faint whiff of paint; it smells like home. The covers on the bed are pushed back, confirming my suspicion that he fell asleep in his clothes at some point this evening. Or perhaps he was asleep now. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No.” He leaves the door open and crosses the room. “I fell asleep earlier, but … I couldn’t stay asleep.” He pulls out the desk chair for me and sits on the edge of the bed. “So, I’m still investigating Amon. We may have delayed his plans by getting your mother back, but I’m sure we haven’t stopped them.”

“Oh, did you know that Saber is in the Guild’s custody now?” I ask as I pull my legs up and cross them. “And that Amon isn’t allowed any visitors? The prison is supposed to notify the Guild if anyone asks to see him.”

“Yes, I know, but I don’t think that’s made much difference to Amon. There’s another prisoner at Velazar who’s begun receiving visitors recently, and I’m almost certain that’s the channel through which Amon is now getting information and issuing instructions.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have a contact who has access to the records at Velazar.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Do you have contacts everywhere?”

“Yes,” he says, then frowns. “Almost.”

“And do they all know who you really are?”

“No. Most of them don’t. Anyway, I want to get into Velazar and speak to this prisoner. Find out how much she knows of Amon’s plan. I’ve wanted to visit before, but I decided Velazar Prison might not be the best place for me to be caught.”

With an expression of mock bemusement, I say, “Now why on earth would you think that?”

He gives me a wry smile, then continues. “No one knows who I am simply by looking at me, and it would be easy to provide false identification. But I don’t want there to be a record of me—even a false version of me—anywhere. So I’ve avoided Velazar Prison.”

“Until now,” I say, figuring out where this conversation is heading.

“Until now,” he repeats. “I know you’re probably planning to leave soon, and I know you’re not interested in working with me on a permanent basis because you’re worried about laws and all of that. But I wanted to ask you anyway.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and watching me intently. “Will you help me get into Velazar Prison?”

I look down at my hands. I probably shouldn’t get involved in this stuff, but Amon is a threat to Mom as long as he still wants information from her, so that immediately makes me far more interested in this situation than I would otherwise be. And even though sneaking into Velazar Prison isn’t legal, we’d be doing it for the right reasons. We’d potentially be stopping a far greater threat.

Dammit. This is like when I talked myself into stealing that bangle back from the Guild. And when I convinced myself to allow Zed to escape because I know he isn’t a criminal and doesn’t deserve to be locked up. “I used to see clearly in black and white,” I murmur, “but now all I see are shades of grey. I don’t like it.”

“That’s the way the real world works, though. Nothing is ever truly black and white.”

I stare at my hands as they twist together. The moral debate aside, at least I know Chase doesn’t view me as a child. He wouldn’t ask for my help with something so important if he did. He says nothing more as he waits for my answer. The silence builds, and eventually I make my decision. I force my hands to be still and look up. “Okay. I’ll do it. And if there’s anything else involving Amon, I’ll help with that too. I don’t ever want him getting close to my mother again.”

“Thank you,” Chase says. “I’ll try and organize for us to go tomorrow. The sooner we find out what Amon’s been up to since your visit with him, the better.”

As we stand and walk to the door, I say, “How exactly do you think this other prisoner is passing information to him? The prisoners are kept in floating cells that move continually. What if their two cells never happen to pass each other?”

“There’s a pattern to the way the cells move, so Amon and this other prisoner pass one another at regular intervals. I’m sure by now they’ve developed a system of exchanging information as quickly as possible.”

I turn in the doorway to face him. “And why would this prisoner want to help Amon?”

“Because,” Chase says with a heavy sigh, “this prisoner is my mother.”

PART III

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

I’m standing in Chase’s lakeside house preparing myself mentally to meet the runaway Seelie princess who betrayed her family, personally hunted down a terrible and dangerous power, and stood alongside her son as he consumed that power and proceeded to bring our world to its knees. A woman who, unlike her son, most likely feels not a shred of remorse for the things she’s done.

I hear the front door open behind me. I turn immediately, knowing that it can’t be Chase. He went back through the faerie door to the mountain. To fetch something, he’d said. Before I can reach for the knife in my boot, I see who it is. Elizabeth, the woman I saw in Chase’s past. The woman I met at Estellyn Tower.

“Hello,” she says. “Where’s Chase? I thought we needed to leave now.”

Her question confuses me, and for a moment I can’t think what to say. “He—uh—he went back for something. What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t Chase tell you? I’m coming with.”

“Oh.” Chase did say he would find someone to play the ‘visitor’ while he and I sneak in under the illusion of invisibility. He hadn’t said who that person would be, though, and I didn’t think to ask. “Why did he ask you?”

She gives me her sultry smile. “I can be very,
very
persuasive.”

“Oh.” Then it hits me. “
Oh
. You’re Scarlett.”

She seems surprised for a second, but she recovers quickly. “I am.” With a roll of her eyes, she adds, “Chase seems to prefer my real name.” She tilts her head to the side as if considering me. “I take it he told you everything.”

“Yes.”

“Not a pretty story, is it.”

I shake my head. “No. I didn’t expect it to be. But thank goodness for Luna. Things might have turned out differently if not for her.”

“Indeed.” Elizabeth watches me closely as she asks, “What did you think of her vision?”

Confused and hating the fact that I have to admit it, I ask, “What vision?”

She frowns. “You said Chase told you everything.”

“He did.” At least, I thought he did. “He said Luna had a Seeing ability, but he didn’t tell me about any specific vision of hers.”

“Oh. Well, never mind then.” Elizabeth smiles, not unkindly. “It probably wasn’t right for him to share it. Forget I said anything.”

I don’t like the fact that she knows more than I do, but she’s been part of Chase’s life far longer than I have. There are probably many things she knows that I don’t. I look down at her hands and find myself distracted by what I see there. “Why do you always wear gloves?” I ask. I’m certain I’ve never seen her without them.

She lifts her hands, turning them over and splaying her fingers. “My hands are a little … dangerous. I don’t intend for them to be, of course,” she adds innocently, “but they do seem to have the unfortunate habit of sucking the life out of people.”

“Sucking the—wow. So that’s your Griffin Ability?”

“No. I don’t have a Griffin Ability. This is what siren magic looks like when you can’t turn it off. That turned out to be my
unpredictable
side effect of being a halfling. For the first few years they thought I had no magic. Then, after it appeared, I couldn’t turn it off. So while most sirens don’t generally practice the age-old art of sucking the life out of men, I didn’t really have a choice. And, unlike the rest of my persuasive siren magic, this part works on women too. In case you were wondering.”

“I …”

“Ah, you’re here,” Chase says from behind me, walking through the faerie door. He shuts and locks it. “Ready to go?” he asks the two of us.

Elizabeth nods. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to face the inside of a prison in the company of the two women Chase was closest to when he became Lord Draven, but I nod anyway. “Yes.”

* * *

We get inside Velazar Prison without a hitch. Elizabeth charms the guard into allowing her in without putting one of those magic-inhibiting rings on her finger, while I remain fully focused on imagining an empty space wherever Chase and I are standing. My heart pounds furiously the entire time, but I don’t allow my fear to take up any room in my brain. I need all my attention on this illusion. We make it through the confusing network of damp corridors and stairways and eventually find ourselves on the bridge spanning the cavernous space where the prison cells are kept. I watch them all floating past one another in eerie silence, wondering which one contains Angelica.

The guard who led us here presents a piece of paper to the guard standing at the gate halfway across the bridge. They exchange a few words before the gate is opened for us and we pass through. The guard leads us across the bridge to the other side of the cavern where we head down another corridor and stop outside one of the visitation rooms. As the guard lifts his hand to open the door, Elizabeth steps closer to him. “Why don’t we stay out here for a little while,” she purrs. She slides her gloved hand around his neck and whispers into his ear, “I’d like to get to know you better.”

He turns his head and swallows, his eyes focusing on her lips. I can already see there’s no hope for him. “What if … what if another guard walks past?” he asks.

“Then I’ll have a little chat with him or her. I promise you won’t be in any trouble.” She leans closer and presses her lips again his jaw.

The moment the guard’s eyes slide shut, Chase steps forward and opens the door. We walk quickly into the room that’s split in half by vertical bars. Bars made of the metal that doesn’t allow magic to pass beyond them. This visitation room is a little different from the one I was brought to last time, though. Or perhaps they’ve all been changed since then. Instead of a wall and a door on the other side of the room, there’s an open space. And into the space slides an entire prison cell.

“Remember to keep yourself hidden,” Chase murmurs. “It’ll be simpler if I don’t have to explain who you are.”

We walk toward the bars as the cell comes to a halt. There isn’t much inside it: a narrow bed, a small toilet and basin, and a table with a few books and a picture frame standing on it. After hearing Chase’s description of Angelica, I wouldn’t have thought of her as sentimental, but I suppose everyone has someone to care about. I wish I could see the picture in that frame, but it’s turned at just the wrong angle. I wonder if perhaps it might be Chase.

A woman in prison overalls rises from the bed and comes toward us. As she pushes her dark hair away from her face, I see her properly for the first time.

And I stop.

The woman from Rick’s vision. This is her. Long, messy black hair with silver strands twisting through it. Bright silver eyes. I swallow past the dryness in my throat and tell myself that just because she showed up in a Seer’s vision doesn’t mean things are going to go wrong here. Even if she does strike out at Chase the way she did in the vision, she can’t reach further than an arm’s length past the bars.

I remain standing where I am and remind myself to focus on projecting my illusion.

“Hello, Angelica,” Chase says.

Her hands come up slowly to grasp the bars. She stares at him with a stunned expression on her face and an almost-smile on her lips. Seconds tick by before she murmurs, “I knew it. I knew you couldn’t be dead. You had the necklace.”