25. Chapter 25

Chapter twenty-five

M y palms are sweaty. Why do they do that when I get nervous? I know I’m not the only person it happens to, so what is the evolutionary advantage? How can having a slippery grip help in times of high stress? Surely it is a disaster? If I was trying to hold a spear right now, it would slide right out of my hand. How did my ancestors survive? It doesn’t make any sense.

I take a deep breath. And then another. I really need to get a grip. Thinking about spears and sweat really isn’t going to help right now. I need to focus.

I’m in a large communal shower area. A sea of white tiles. It’s empty. No sounds save for the occasional drip.

Any minute now, Mabon is going to be brought in and left with me.

Booted footsteps sound out from the hallway. My spine stiffens and my heart starts beating at a thousand beats a minute. The boots stop. I suck in a breath.

Mabon walks around the corner, into the shower area. He sees me and freezes.

He is still wearing that nasty hospital gown. His lovely legs are bare, as are his feet, and I hate how vulnerable it makes him look. His purple hair is still up in the shitty, messy plait I did for him. And that sends a tingle of relief buzzing through me. I’m so glad they didn’t confiscate the shoelace.

Mabon slowly crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes look dull and there are dark circles under them. He looks tired. Worn. But his expression is carefully blank.

This is not the needy, broken Mabon who clung to me out of desperation. This Mabon has pulled himself together. Even if it is only by the thinnest thread.

Despite everything, and even under these harsh fluorescent lights, he is still painfully beautiful. Enough to take my breath away and make my chest feel tight.

He moves his hands to his hips. I blink.

“They took your cuffs off,” I say.

They’ve also taken all of his pretty bracelets, and his slender wrists look naked without them. But there is no time to think about that now.

“You can do magic!” I exclaim as hope bubbles through my chest.

He snorts derisively. “Not in this place. It is too heavily warded.”

I swallow tightly. I should have known that it was too good to be true. Back to my original, terrible plan it is.

I hold out my hand. “We have to run.”

Mabon’s eyes narrow. “You can’t trick me again.”

My heart drops. I feel it. It lands somewhere by my toes, I swear. I always thought it was a strange expression, but now I am experiencing it and it is the only possible way to describe what I am feeling.

I stare at him helplessly. I betrayed him. Horrible things have happened to him here because of me. He hates me, and rightly so. He is never going to trust me again, and rightly so. If I had all the time in the world, I probably still could not convince him. And we definitely have a lot less time than that.

I run forward, grab him, and swing him over my shoulders. He lets out a squeak but doesn’t fight me. I turn and run. Through the maintenance door at the back of the shower room. Down the narrow service corridor, out into the main hallway. Up to the exit.

My lungs are working hard. But my leg muscles are holding up. Mabon is bouncing on my shoulders. It feels as if he weighs nothing, but that has to be the adrenaline. Whatever gets me through is fine by me.

I manage to balance him with one hand while I swipe my key card on the reader by the exit. The door beeps open. Then I run. Really run. Faster and further than I have ever run before. I run as if my life depends on it because it probably does. I’m not even aware of my surroundings. I’m just running.

“Put me down, you oaf! Let me help!”

I don’t think that’s the first time he has said that.

I blink sweat out of my eyes. We are in some woods. It’s afternoon, judging by the light. I can hear the sounds of pursuit crashing through the woods behind us. Far too close for comfort, but not right on us. Yet.

Wheezing, I put Mabon down. He grabs my hand and pulls me in a different direction from where I had been heading. Not that I had a destination in mind. Far away was the only objective.

Mabon takes us into a small clearing. There, in the middle, nestled amongst some long grass, is a ring of bright red toadstools. He tows me into it.

The world goes dark. It spins. Then it rights itself.

I blink and suck in air. We are still in the middle of a toadstool ring, in a clearing in the woods. But these are different woods. We are not where we were. There are no sounds of pursuit. Nothing but the silence of woods in winter.

“Where are we?” I ask.

Mabon looks up at the overcast sky. “Scotland.”

“Is that far from the bunker?”

He nods. “A few hundred miles.”

“Can they follow us?”

He shakes his head.

Oh my god. It worked. It actually worked. I got Mabon out of there. I can’t believe it. It is too much to take in. I’m functioning on shock and it is dulling my mind, as well as my emotions.

I stagger out of the ring of toadstools and sit down on the forest floor. My lungs are burning and my legs are trembling. That was some workout.

Mabon is staring at me.

“You’re free now,” I pant. “You can ping back to the palace.”

His delicate nose scrunches up. “No, I can’t.”

“Your magic is back, isn’t it?”

He nods.

My brows scrunch in confusion. “So, ping back to the palace.” I gesture vaguely at the toadstool.

Mabon’s eyes narrow. “My hair was unbound.”

I stare at him. Somewhere in the distance, a crow calls out. I’m floundering here. I don’t understand. Clearly, it is a cultural thing that I’m not grasping and probably never will. And I’m still reeling from the fact that we are both free and alive. It is a lot for my poor brain cells.

“No one will know about your hair?” I point out.

“I will know!” he snaps and his voice is ice. Cold and brittle. “I was defeated and shamed.”

My stomach rolls. I don’t want to say the words, but they are burning in my throat. “Did they…did they rape you?”

His brows furrow. “I do not know that word.”

I take a deep breath. “Did they force you to have sex with them?”

He blinks, blushes slightly, and shakes his head.

“Did you have sex with them?” I double check.

As much as I don’t like Mr Jones, his wording was very useful. And that’s with me being human. Who knows what Mabon’s interpretation of being forced is.

Mabon drops his gaze and shakes his head. It’s clear it was on his mind and he was aware of how easily it could have happened. He was a prisoner. His magic was bound. They subjected him to other things that he did not want.

I still feel sick. I should be more relieved than this. But Mabon is standing here in the woods looking defeated and implying that he can’t go home. I can’t have broken him out for nothing.

“So, what are you going to do?” I ask. I’m going to have to talk some sense into him. “Stay out here and never go home?”

He shrugs and bites his bottom lip.

I sigh. “Won’t your family be worried about you?”

He looks up at me. A flash of amethyst amongst the muted winter shades of the woods.

“Why?” he asks and he looks genuinely perplexed.

My chest tightens, and a bitter taste floods my mouth. I want to reach out, pull him close, hold him tight, and never let him go. But he hates me now. I’ve burned that bridge and I will regret it forever.

“You don’t think your family is looking for you?” I say.

He makes his dismissive gesture. “They’ll just think I’m up to something.”

I take a deep breath. “So, go home. Say you’ve been up to something. They will never know about the hair thing. You can have your life back. You don’t need to throw it away.”

He stares at me. He is motionless. It is as if he has taken root. It feels like he could stand there and stare at me for a thousand years. Without even blinking.

I shudder.

“You gave me a braid,” he says.

I nod, slowly and carefully.

“If I got back to the palace without using any magic, it might work.”

“Why no magic?”

Mabon huffs as if I’m an annoying toddler asking inane questions. “Because while they might believe I’ve been up to something, nobody will believe I’ve chosen to be in Scotland, with you.”

I shake my head to try to assemble my thoughts. “And if you use magic, it can be sensed?”

He blinks in surprise and then gives me a tiny smile. One that looks for all the world like a proud smile. My heart skips with joy. I’ve impressed Mabon and it feels wonderful.

My gaze flicks to the toadstool. “But you’ve already used magic?”

Mabon shakes his head. “That was all the mushrooms. I did nothing.”

“Can you use the mushrooms to get back to the palace?”

“They can’t be…what is the word? Steered! They can’t be steered. They take you where they choose. Or nowhere at all.”

Unease claws up my spine, but I push it away. I need to think.

Oh. Okay. I think I understand. Mabon needs to get from Scotland to London without using any magic. While wearing a hospital gown. With no money. And not understanding the human world very well.

I run my hands through my hair. I’m wearing a full set of clothes, but other than that, I’m in a similar situation. I need to get home to London. I don’t have any money. The Resistance will be looking for me too. But I’m human. And I understand how the human world works.

“Alright. I help you get back to Buckingham Palace and then we go our separate ways,” I say. “No seeking revenge.”

Lord knows I deserve it. But I’m doing my best to make amends. To right my wrongs. I’m not brave or noble enough to take a punishment. I want to get Mabon to his home. I want to go to my home. I want to see my mum, and put all of this behind me.

As much as I can. I’ve pissed the Resistance off. I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life hiding. But helping Mabon some more isn’t going to change that.

And there is no point in throwing everything away and breaking him out, to just abandon him here in the middle of the woods.

Mabon purses his lips. Then he sighs. “Fine, it’s a deal.” He holds out his hand.

I stare at him. He is still standing in the middle of the toadstool ring. He may be wearing a human hospital gown, but he still looks one hundred per cent fey. A fey in the middle of the woods, offering a deal.

My eyes narrow. “No it’s not.”

A huge, dazzling grin spreads across Mabon’s face and lights up his eyes.

“Clever boy!”

Mister Dinky twitches. I groan. What the hell have I let myself in for?