Claimed by Shadow Page 0,104

fingertips, I found only dust and what felt like a dead spider. No moon or stars were visible, but by feel I discovered that the bars were metal and as big around as my wrist.

I sat back down on the cot and wrapped my arms around me to keep from shivering in the chill night air. Bathing and checking out escape possibilities had given my brain something to do, but now it kept trying to go back to the horror in the forest. The more I tried not to think about Mac, the more the other images crowded my mind. I could smell the awful breath in my face, see the hunger in their expressions and feel that decayed mass squirming between my legs, seeking, thrusting, invading.

Despite my efforts, I was shivering anyway, so much that my teeth started to chatter. I used anger to push away the panic, to let me draw a deep breath, to let me think. I was alone and defenseless, and I hated it. Fear was an old companion, familiar in its way, but this wasn't fear. What I was feeling went beyond words, a bone-deep chill and a certainty that, even if I survived, I would never feel secure again.

I drew the blanket further around me, but it did little good. The cold that permeated me didn't come from the outside. I walked up and down the confines of the cell anyway, trying to force circulation into my icy center. It didn't warm me, but it did clear my head. I could examine my mistakes later. I could grieve later. Right now, I had to get out of here. And, somehow, I had to make sure that I was never, ever this helpless again.

I was about to try to access my power one more time when I heard a familiar, off-key voice from somewhere nearby. "I'll take you home again, Kathleen, across the ocean wild and wide," it warbled mournfully. It was faint and slurred, but unmistakable.

"Billy!" I almost cried in relief.

The singing stopped abruptly. "Cassie, me darlin'. I've got one for ya. I thought it up at the pub.”

There once was a ghost name of Billy,

Who got in a jam rather silly,

He found a beautiful lass

And quick made a pass

Forgetting he only had mist for a willy.

"Where are we?" I yelled. "What's going on?" The only answer I got was a rousing chorus of "The Belle of Belfast City." Trust Billy to make me want to strangle him when he wasn't even in the same room. "You're drunk!”

"That I am," he agreed, "but I'm conscious, which is more than I can say for my orange friend, here. Can't hold his liquor, poor sod.”

"Billy!”

"All right, Cass. Hold your horses and good old Billy will tell the tale. We've been taken by the Dark Fey. They snatched me out of a lovely pub and threw me in this dank hole, with only himself for company, to wait on the king's pleasure.”

I sagged in relief. At least we weren't going to be beheaded in the morning or something equally medieval. That bought the others some time to find us, assuming they were still free. "Where is everyone?" I hoped they were doing better than me, or we were in a lot of trouble.

"Pritkin and Marlowe are trying to convince the captain of the guard-a nasty pixie-to let us go, but I don't know how well they're doing." He paused, then asked in a different tone. "Hey, Cass. What do you think would happen to me if I got killed here? They don't have any ghosts, have you noticed?”

I thought of Mac, his face sagging in death, his eyes dull. If there had been a sign of a ghost, a flare or spark anywhere around him, I hadn't noticed. A new wash of chills spread over me. My God, what had we done?

"What if I didn't come back?" Billy was saying, "What if that was it-I died and there was no loophole this time? What if-”

"Billy!" I tried to keep the hysterical note out of my voice, but I wasn't entirely successful. I swallowed and tried again. "You aren't going to die, Billy. We'll get out of this." I said it as much to reassure myself as to quiet him, but I don't think it worked for either of us.

I heard a jangle of keys outside my cell, and the huge door swung open on ancient hinges. I was almost blinded by the lantern light that flooded