Chapter 3

3

M y appendix burst when I was nine years old.

One second, I'm in my friend's backyard playing popcorn on her trampoline, and the next, I'm doubled over, screaming in pain. I'm rushed to the ER. My dad squeezes my hand while nurses bustle around the room, readying me for surgery. Then I'm being wheeled into an OR, shrinking back from the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. Someone tells me to count backward from ten. I think I make it to seven before the world drops out from beneath me and there is nothing but sweet, empty silence. Darkness welcomes me into its velvet arms and pulls me into a dreamless sleep.

Coming out of that sleep, my body and mind are reluctant. I do not want to return to the light. Anxiety laces my blood as the anesthesia wears off, leaving a sticky panic in its wake. My heart is beating too fast. My thoughts race to make up for lost time, unleashing themselves one after another like a swarm of locusts as my stomach lurches. My eyes fly open, and I am gasping.

This feels a lot like that .

I blink, trying to somehow clear away the image of the figure standing before me. But no matter how many times my eyes open and close, the Mr. Tatler I know is gone.

Something about this is very, very wrong. But I don't plan on sticking around to find out what.

I lunge for the door again, ready to barrel right through it, but Mr. T—this stranger—springs to life in one graceful step. He's fast and agile as he grips my arm and roots me to the spot. I gasp at the sudden movement in such stark contrast to the old man who scuffles his feet when he pads across the bookshop floor. His hand feels so large wrapped around my bicep, his grip firm but not painful.

"Who are you?" I peer up at him, trying to wrestle my arm free. "Let me go right now!"

"It's too late for that."

Even his voice is different. Softer, richer, like honey. Staring up at him, I notice the slight point at the tip of his ears.

What the actual.

"Please," I beg, resisting against his grasp. "I don't know what this is, but I can't be here—I can't! Please!" I don't even know what I'm saying, what I'm begging for, but I'm bordering on hysterical.

"I'm not going to hurt you." A flash of pain appears in his eyes, his tone surprised and soothing. "But I can't let you leave, even if I wanted to."

He glances toward the heavy tome, still thrumming with odd life and glowing eerily from its place on the table.

I have to get out of here. But how ?

He's gotta be over six feet tall. Even if I managed to swipe the keys from his pocket, he would have me pinned in an instant. I don't have any weapons on me, and even if I did, I probably wouldn't know how the hell to use them.

Except .

I did just scorch my handprints onto the wooden table. Maybe not of my own volition, but…

Before I think better of it, I clamp my fingers around his thick forearm and will myself to bring forth whatever fire seemed to flow from me a moment ago. I squeeze my eyes shut, my entire body clenching in effort.

"That's not going to work on me."

I slowly peel my eyes open and peer up at him. A smile spreads over his lips as if he finds my effort cute.

"Sit down. We don't have much time," he says with gentle firmness.

"The fuck I will," I spit.

"I need to explain."

"Explain what you did to me?" I hold my hands up an inch from his face, but his grip doesn't loosen. "What the hell is this? Where's Tatler?"

"I am Tatler. It was a glamour."

"Hah!" I bark. "Oh, it was a glamour ? You think I'm an idiot?"

"I think you're in shock and denial. But either way, I need you to listen carefully." He holds me by the shoulders and locks me in an intense stare. I have no choice but to stare up into his warm brown eyes.

"In a few moments, you will be summoned."

"What the—" I mutter, but he plows ahead.

"Keep your eyes open and watch your back, wanderer. You won't be alone."

As he gazes down at me, black mist begins to materialize and curl around my ankles. The shadows kiss up my legs and begin to cloud the room until we are almost completely ensconced in darkness.

There's no time to run, to hide, or to fight.

I watch as if my soul is detached from my body. I float above, seeing myself unable to move. The book glows brighter now—white hot. That is the last thing I see before the darkness engulfs me and rips me from all I know.

I'm falling.

Wherever I am now, it is not of this world. My world. I unleashed Pandora's box when I spoke those words. And now I will pay.? *

Malevolent winds bite at me as I plummet, nipping at my face with fierce aggression. There is the feeling of something tearing inside of me. I am being ripped open from my very chest, where my heart lies. The pain is like nothing I've felt before, and somewhere during my fall, I thankfully lose consciousness.

I'm woken by the distant sound of rustling leaves and men's shouting voices. As my eyelids flutter and I come back into my body, something warm and wet tickles my cheek. I crack my eyes open to find a furry-faced creature with a delicate black nose and familiar brown eyes licking my face.

The shouts grow closer as the animal nudges me, head-butting me with a sense of urgency. I struggle to my elbows, trying to recall how I ended up on the floor of this unsettling, whitewashed forest. Milky leaves crunch beneath me, blanketing the ground along with something else—something white, smooth, and hard. The jagged sticks of varying shapes and lengths leave impressions on my arms as I force myself upright. Trees the color of freshly fallen snow surround me, their barren branches reaching so high into the sky they disappear into the thick clouds. The growing sound of galloping draws me back to awareness.

Something is coming. Someone. Many someones.

An urgent call sounds from behind me.

"This way!"

I whirl just in time to glimpse the massive black horse racing toward me, with a dark armored soldier astride.

As he approaches, he casts out his hand in my direction. In the blink of an eye, I am wrapped in a large net. My legs sweep out from beneath me as the horse begins to drag me across the forest floor, threatening to take the skin off my back. My scream is silenced by the guttural sounds coming from the strange lupine creature that woke me. It has the narrow snout and fluffy tail of a white fox, only its size is that of a wolf. I've never seen anything like it.

But decoding this fox is very low right now on my list of figuring out what the fucking fuck is going on.

I watch as it leaps, razor-like fangs bared, and latches onto the rider's neck with alarming accuracy. He topples as his horse skids to a stop. Grappling for one of the sharp sticks on the ground, I quickly saw through the net, tearing it wide enough to slip through. I break free in time to see four more dark soldiers galloping toward us. The soldier and the feral creature are still locked in a face-off, the lithe wolf-fox snapping his jaws at my opponent.

He's incapacitated. This could be my only shot to run. But I find myself unable to move, unable to abandon the odd animal defending me so fiercely.

A sharp yelp bursts from its mouth as the soldier knocks it back with the force of his heavy boot. He starts toward me menacingly, but the animal is relentless—scrambling between us with bared fangs as the other riders dismount and approach with inhuman speed. Before I can react, my arms are pinned behind my back, and I am forced onto my knees.

"Don't touch me!" I shout and am met with a sharp slap to my face. I don't even see it coming. The force knocks me sideways. Pain blossoms across my cheek, and a metallic taste coats my tongue. But my forest friend is there, in front of me, growling like a rabid dog. Snarling in the face of the strangers, defying certain death.

One of the helmeted soldiers loads an arrow into a bow and aims at the creature.

"No!" I gasp, scrambling to knock the animal out of the way.

I'm too late.

The arrow whizzes past me and lodges itself in the creature's chest. It collapses to the ground, its cries of agony cracking my heart. I rush to its side not knowing what to do but knowing I must do something as he stills beneath my hands.

Pull it out, something inside of me whispers.

With no time to second guess, I rip the arrow free from the creature's limp body. I whirl toward the soldier as he pulls his elbow back, a second arrow at the ready. A large hand on his chest halts him.

"Stop." The voice is deep and commanding.

"But Captain?—"

"She goes unharmed. Take her to the king."

The man hauls himself on top of the largest, most intimidating horse and rides off while I am bound at the wrists and ankles, thrown over the side of a glossy black steed, and held there by a faceless armored brute. I try to fight, try to resist, but it's useless.

As we ride away, I strain my neck to look back at the wounded animal. Blood leaks from its chest, staining the white-floored forest crimson. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to bear the sight any longer. There's nothing I can do now .

"Where are you taking me?" I demand.

"To pay a little visit to the king, witch."

"Witch?" I bark out a laugh. "You can't be serious."

He doesn't answer.

"Where are we?"

"Bone Forest. But I'm sure you already knew that."

"This isn't happening. How did I—what happened..."

I trail off, trying to make sense of the past ten minutes. I make zero.

"Please, please, stop. I need help. I think I'm a long way from home. I don't know how I got here. Whatever it was, it was an accident. Please, just tell me how to get home."

"Quit your babbling, witch."

"I said, I'm not a witch!"

"You'd best hold your tongue before the king. He doesn't take kindly to mouthy little females. No matter how pretty."

My stomach twists.

We travel on at a swift pace for what feels like hours and each gallop sends me bouncing with a punch to my gut. I crane my neck to take in my surroundings. We've passed through the strange whitewashed forest and into one of familiar greens and browns. Night is beginning to fall, and the moon casts an eerie glow over all it touches.

When the sky is finally black, I wonder how any of my captors can navigate the narrow space between trees at a pace like this. I'm filled with apprehension as we approach the side of a massive mountain. Built into the rock is a portcullis that rises noisily as we proceed and are swallowed up by the crag. The gates lower behind me, sealing me in. And likely sealing my tomb.

I can barely see through the dark, but these men seem to have no trouble at all as they dismount and pass the horses off to a worker dressed in ratty clothes. The bindings at my ankles are slashed, and I am pulled from the saddle. A wave of dizziness hits me as I'm jerked upright.

"Walk, witch." The rider grabs me by my bound arms and marches me into a dark cavernous tunnel.

Flaming lanterns line the walls of the narrow corridor, guiding us deeper into the mountain. A chill rolls through the air, wafting from the other side of the stretch, where a soft bluish-white light gleams with promise. We reach the source as I am guided into a glittering cavern of light and refraction. Diamonds, uncut and raw lace every inch of the space. Massive stalagmites that hold every color of the rainbow jut from the floor. Crystalline icicles drip from the cave's towering arches, dagger-like and dangerous. Pools of water curtain the walkway on which we now stand, the light coming from beneath a mesmerizing sea-foam green. The entire space is sharp, lethal, and filled with searing beauty. I stand breathless, in awe of my surroundings.

But despite the marvelous sight, my gaze is drawn elsewhere. My heart begins to flutter in my chest as I am guided toward a raised dais where two figures wait on crystalline thrones carved into the rock itself.

My eyes land on the man. His familiar brown eyes and thick brows, straight nose, and dark hair the same shade as mine.

It can't be.

It's just an optical illusion created by the lights and the diamonds.

But then I'm a foot away from him being forced onto my knees, and there is no mistaking that face as he rises from his diamond throne and takes a step closer, peering down with a stern expression.

He nods his head once, and I'm wrenched to my feet to find myself face-to-face with my father.

* ? Cue: DVD Menu by Phoebe Bridgers