Chapter 24

Skeletor took us through the forest for several hours, and when he finally stopped it was at a place where two creeks merged. Sitting in the Y of the water was a huge tree that reached taller than the ones around it. A series of platforms had been built in the tree, almost like a hunting stand. Only…the hunting stand had walls and windows, and a light was lit inside.

"You think that's the place that Richart meant?" I asked.

Feish burbled. "Maybe. Better than being out here."

We slid off Skeletor and I patted his neck. "You go rest, you did good." He blew out a long snort and sunk into the earth like he was Artax in the Swamp of Sadness.

Feish reached over and took my hand, and I felt the tremor in her touch. "I know," I said, "I'm scared too. But we're out of her hands now."

I didn't want to add, ‘for now'.

Feish led me through the water, making it so we only sunk up over our ankles. The cold water felt good, shocking in its icy temperature. The little island between the two creeks was only big enough for the tree, ringed with moss and low-growing plants.

A ladder hung from the lowest branch, made of rope and thin bits of wood. "I can use that, pull it up after."

Feish stared at me. "What do you mean ‘I'? Why not we?"

I put a hand on her shoulder. "Feish, you need to go back to Savannah. No one knows where I am. You can lead them here."

Feish's mouth dropped open. "I can't leave you! They will kill you!"

This was the thing about making the hard choices—they sucked donkey balls. "But we can't survive here forever, Feish. I don't even know where we are, do you?"

In the momentary silence, I could hear the crash of the waves against the shoreline to our left.

She glowered and her gills flapped. "We are somewhere near water. Once I am in the water, then I will know what body of water."

"That was an ocean we looked out on," I said quietly. "And you can swim faster than anyone I know."

What I didn't want to say was that I was terrified she would be hurt. That she would be used against me. I hadn't been able to save Bridgette, or Ivan, but I could honor their losses by doing everything in my power to keep the rest of our friends alive.

"You have to. I need you to do this, to bring Crash, Sarge, and anyone else who wants to help," I said.

"And if Remy or another vampire comes for you? What then? You don't have a weapon, nothing!" Feish threw her hands up, her fingers wiggling with agitation.

I made myself smile, "Feish. We used Skeletor. Richart said this house is hidden, and Evangeline's afraid of it. They won't find me."

She paced the small space under the tree. "I don't like this."

I shrugged. "Neither do I. But the longer you wait, the longer it'll take you to get back."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a large ‘O.' "I'm going. I will be back. Promise me you won't die!"

It took everything I had not to break down right there. "I will be all right, my friend. Go."

She grabbed me in a hug that smelled of the ocean and her special tea, and then she was gone, running toward the sound of the ocean.

"Goodbye, my friend," I whispered after her retreating figure.

"You think that was a good idea?" Alan startled me as he appeared at my side.

I glanced at him. "You got us out, Alan. Thank you. I release you from any and all bonds you might have to me. I cut you loose from your ties, or anything you believe you might owe me."

His eyebrows rose. "That's it? If absolving me of responsibility would work, you think I wouldn't have thought of that sooner?"

My stare turned into a glare. "Alan, duck off, would you? I thanked you. I set you free. That's enough, isn't it?" I turned and limped my way over to the ladder.

The soles of my feet were finally making their displeasure known. I'd run across hard rock and ground, barefoot, running for my damn life. And it had cost my feet more than a few layers of skin, not to mention several gashes.

Grabbing the ladder, I pulled myself up rung by rung, all the adrenaline fleeing my body and leaving me sluggish. It was a good thing that at least I wouldn't have vampires chasing me during the day. I was exhausted.

I half threw myself onto the flat of the treehouse doorstep. The canopy of the tree spread out over my head, giving me a peek of the sky above, but my gaze tracked to the door. The open door.

The room within was decked out with a low bed, covered in blankets and pillows. A platter of food appeared on the table right before my eyes. A magic treehouse. Cool. Richart had at least been good for a place to hide out.

Even the cool factor could only hold my attention for so long. I had a task ahead of me and the longer I put it off, the worse it was going to be. I couldn't risk being captured again. And that was the real reason I'd sent Feish away.

The smell of a warm croissant, a slice of prime rib, mashed potatoes, and what looked like a tumbler of whiskey, tugged at me. One last meal. I deserved that much, didn't I?

I sat down and scooped up the croissant first. Buttery steam curled up to my nose. I groaned as I bit into it, savoring every layer of the flaky delicacy.

"What are you going to do, Bree?" Alan insisted as he followed me up into the tree house.

"I'm going to protect my friends and family," I said around a mouthful of food.

He moved so he stood in the middle of the small table. Perks of being a ghost, I suppose. "You mean you're going to find a way to kill yourself? That's exceptionally stupid of you. I mean, even for you."

I glared up at him. "And what would you do, Alan? Huh? Join forces with Evangeline?"

"No. Maybe. But this isn't about what I would do, it's about what you would, or should do. You want to save your friends? Don't you have magic? A connection to the dead or something?"

I gritted my teeth. "Yes."

"Can't you control vampires? Aren't they dead?"

I shook my head. "They aren't like a ghost, Alan. They're stronger. I don't know if you remember Joseph but…"

I touched a buttery finger to my neck where the vampire had bitten me.

Maybe there had been a minute where I'd almost…almost…taken control of Joseph. But it had been a fleeting moment. "I'm not a hero, Alan. I'm a middle-aged woman who's seen enough shit to know that it doesn't always work out the way we hoped. There isn't always a happily ever after. That's real. That's life."

He snorted and put his hands on his hips. "Since when did you suddenly start being the realist? You were the dreamer, Bree. Always. Why stop now?'

"Why are you hounding me?" I wanted to throw something at him.

"Because maybe I'm not done trying to fix what I broke!" he yelled back. "I can't leave you, Bree. No matter that you hate me and have every reason to hate me. I can't leave you. I…I don't want you to die."

His face kind of went weird and I realized that, for maybe the first time, I was seeing some emotion in him. He was afraid for me.

I slumped in the chair. "Alan…I'm fixing what you broke. I have fixed a lot of it."

"Fine. But I still need to make penance for my choices." He shrugged. "And I think you'd be stupid to give up now. You only have to hold out five more days, right? Shouldn't you have people coming for you? That ugly blacksmith? Isn't he magical?"

It astounded me how little Alan had actually absorbed in all his time immersed in the shadow world. "You want to go get help for me?"

"I can't leave you, I already said that," he grumped. "Otherwise, I would go and get help."

A crack of trees outside froze us both. Ears straining, I didn't dare move from my seat.

"I'll go check," Alan said before I could even ask him.

He slid through the floor, and I couldn't help myself. I crept to the open doorway, putting my back to the wall so I could peer out.

The sound of trees splintering filled the air, over and over. They were being thrashed to the ground by something large and…barking?

A huge ‘woof' echoed across to me and I peeked a little further around the corner of the door. The creature was not as big as I'd expected from the sounds, maybe about the size of a horse, but there was no mistaking it was Remy who rode on its back.

The beast was sniffing the air, weaving its giant head back and forth. And Remy…Remy didn't so much as look my way. But it was the woman who rode behind him who commanded my attention.

Bramble. My cousin.

"I don't know why it surprises me that you lost her. I mean, she was only locked up in a cage of your making, accessible only by magic?—"

"Mon Dieu! Shut your mouth, Bramble!" Remy snapped. "You are lucky I let you come along at all!"

Bramble laughed. "It is obvious you need help."

Part of me wanted to duck back inside the tree house, the other part couldn't tear my eyes away from the fact that a giant wolf dog thing was sniffing the air, and cocking his leg against a tree.

Remy and Bramble were obviously hunting me, but they circled around, never once looking at the tree house. Never once crossing the creeks that wrapped around the base of the huge tree. Richart hadn't been kidding. The place was well hidden if they couldn't find it.

I watched as Bramble flicked her hand in my direction, a tiny line of light streaking toward the tree. I held my breath.

The sparkling light sunk into the space around me, like a warm blanket being cast over my skin on a cold winter night.

A spell of protection, I was sure of it.

Stay quiet. As long as you remain in that house, you will be safe. Five days, and she will lose her window. Bramble's voice whispered through my head.

Could it be that simple? I wanted to believe Bramble's message. I didn't see how it benefited her to lie to me.

It took about five minutes for them to continue away from me, Remy smashing trees as he went. His hand would flick out, and he'd send trees flying through the air, crashing them into other trees.

Bramble shook her head at the magical temper tantrum, but she didn't look back. That was for the best. He was bound to notice if she waved at me.

"He seems irritated." Alan floated back up through the floorboards. "Any idea what could be pissing him off? And who was that with him, I feel like I know her?"

"Besides me escaping?" I whispered. "Maybe Robert was successful. Maybe he killed Evangeline." I paused. "That was Bramble, my cousin. I think she added a layer of protection to this place."

Alan nodded. "That's good. But I doubt Robert killed Evangeline." He paced the small space, his hands tucked behind his back. "If she was so easy to kill, I think that Richart fellow would have done it by now. You know he lied to her."

I looked at him, struggling to follow. "What do you mean, he lied to her? Richart? Or Robert?"

"She walked right through me and then accused Richart of not clearing out the castle of ghosts. He said he had cleared it out, and she was wrong. But of course, that wasn't true. I was right there."

I frowned. "Why would it matter if there were ghosts in the castle? No offense, Alan, but it's not like you can hurt anyone."

He grunted and continued his pacing. "But I wasn't the only ghost there. There was an old man ghost. He was the one who helped me find the music. He's been…helping, I guess is the best word."

I sat back down at the small table and picked up the whiskey. It wasn't even noon here, but I'd more than earned a stiff drink after the last couple of days. For the moment, I was safe. My friends weren't. The world wasn't. But I was.

That didn't sit well with me.

"Did he have a name? Why didn't he come down to the dungeon?"

"Vesuvius. And no idea why he didn't come down." Alan frowned at me. "Are you done thinking about killing yourself?"

"As long as I am safe here," I said, "it makes sense to hold off on any drastic measures. Don't you think?"

I took another sip of the whiskey, letting the heat of it sink into my belly as my mind wandered over what I'd learned.

I felt like Alan might actually be on to something with the ghosts. Because if Evangeline cared about driving them out, there was a reason for it. They couldn't impact the physical world, so they had to know something she didn't want them to know.

"Alan. You think you can get your new ghost friend to come visit us here?"