CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE（Untitled）Grace

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Grace

"Are those the same things that attacked me when I first got here?" I shiver. They didn't hurt me that much—Branikk stopped them before they could—but I remember the creepy feeling of malice they exuded. "Should I make another Ferris wheel?" It's the only thing I'm sure my magic will make… if it works right. "Will it confuse them?"

"I doubt it. The soul stealers are attracted to living things," Branikk says. "We're their prey. As amazing as your creations are, it doesn't have a soul for them to eat."

Yep. Those things are hella creepy.

"We could stay inside one of the cars. They might not be able to get through the Plexiglas."

"We'd be trapped. They'd starve us out."

"Are they the same sluagh as before?" Aurora asks.

"I don't know." He shakes his head. "It's in the opposite direction of where the gnome took that one we captured, but one of them could be the sluagh that flew away."

"I told you that contraption would bring enemies to us." She jabs her horn toward the Ferris wheel, which rises over the trees behind us.

"I'm sorry." Embarrassment burns my cheeks. "I didn't make it on purpose."

"Don't be sorry." Branikk looks at me. "You're still learning your magic. Besides —" He shoots Aurora some serious side-eye. "—we heard a howl. They're chasing a cu sith. All of this might have nothing to do with Grace's creation."

I offer him a weak smile, certain he's just saying that to make me feel better but grateful all the same.

"We need some of those net contraptions the other witches designed," Aurora says. She shivers the skin on her back underneath the saddlebags. "Did you pack one?"

"No." Branikk shakes his head.

"All these things you make me carry, and not one of them is the thing we need?" She pokes his shoulder with her horn.

"I only bring the things I use every day, not things I might need." He keeps his bow nocked and ready, his eyes back to scanning the woods. "Contrary to your belief, I do attempt to travel as light as possible out of consideration for you."

"Bah," she snorts, then nuzzles the side of his head in a brief show of affection. "You could have been impractical in this one instance."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time." He grins, a quick flash of teeth and tusks that looks somewhat feral. "Besides, the improvised leather bag worked last time."

Another howl sounds, closer this time—much, much closer—almost drown out by the loud cry of the evil birds.

I hate this, hate not knowing what to do. I'm the person who fixes things. That's what I'm good at. So how can I fix this?

"What are these net things you're talking about?" I ask.

"They're a bag made from a net mounted to a long pole." Branikk drops his ready stance with the bow long enough to outline a shape with his hands. "There's a trapdoor over the mouth, so once you catch a sluagh bird inside, you can keep it contained."

"I can picture it, but what would I make it out of? Vines?" I start to turn toward the woods behind me, but Branikk lays a hand on my shoulder.

"You make it out of your magic."

"What? No! The only things my magic makes are…" I flutter a hand toward the Ferris wheel, not even bothering to mention the skimpy negligee. Everything so far has been carnival stuff or sexy. None of it's been what anyone could call useful.

"Try," he says.

When Branikk lets go of my shoulder, I stare at my hands, willing a net to appear. My crystal heats on my chest, and a tingle of electricity shoots through me.

Pieces of black net pop into existence, draped over my palms. Yes! I did it!

Then I hold them up.

"What the hell?" It's not real net! It's a pair of fishnet stockings, the really sexy kind that only go up to your thigh and need a garter belt to stay up. I groan.

"What are these?" Branikk's dark eyes roam up and down the fishnets and then my body. "Do these go on your legs?"

Everything inside me tightens at the heat in his look. When I'm near him, all I seem to be able to do is make sexy things. Yep. That must be it. It's all his fault. It's not me doing this at all . Not even a little bit.

Then a black wolf runs out of the trees, the size of a Great Dane, with a mane and bushy tail. Its amber eyes latch on to me, and it runs over to bow at my feet. "My lady, long have the cu sith been friends to the elves, and I call upon that friendship now," a male voice says in a clear tenor. "I have traveled hard to ask you the boon of using your magic to aid my people."

"Elf?" What the hell? "I'm not an elf."

"Then woe be upon me, for without the great magic of elves, I know not how to save my people." His amber eyes droop, like a sad-dog meme dialed up to eleven. "I saw the new structure and knew a great magic user must be near."

Loud caws come from overhead.

"Told you that thing would cause trouble," Aurora says.

"I will go. I meant only to draw the vile fiends away from our dens and our pups." The wolf takes a few steps away. "I did not mean to bring this foe to your door."

"The sluagh are our common enemy. You will not face them alone." Branikk lifts his ready bow and arrow. "And we have a way to defeat them. Capture a bird without killing it, and it subdues the entire flock that makes up that sluagh."

"My people do not know of this!"

"It's recently discovered," Branikk says.

Real nets sure would help with that. I toss aside the useless fishnets and pull out my knife as a black cloud of birds clears the trees and dives right for us, blood-red beaks open on ear-piercing shrieks.