Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,27

while we stood exposed to anyone glancing our way. Over our heads, those ragged scraps of glamour gained speed. The first opaque flake smacked into me and stuck like tissue paper dipped in Mod Podge.

Raven’s playing orchestrated a whirl of magical decoupage until I was covered from head to toe. A quick glance confirmed he was similarly plastered by magical debris. He lowered the pipe and, with a twist of his wrist, sent it back wherever he had conjured it from in the first place.

“Camouflage,” he answered breathlessly. “Come on. The effect doesn’t last long.”

This time when he tugged, I resisted, but the spell on my feet was stronger than the one on my mouth, and I went where he led me, cursing all the while.

Beyond the prison, he urged me into a run, and I discovered his flute hadn’t torn glamour from all of the buildings, only the ones nearest us. In the distance, I saw the field of withered corn, the skeletal stalks hunched and broken.

Our destination was a no-brainer. The old windmill. The tether to Faerie.

I figured we had arrived when Raven pulled up short in front of me, jerking me to a halt while he examined each of the structure’s spindly legs. Or I assumed that’s what he was doing based on how he started squinting into thin air and moving his lips. The area was off-limits to most personnel, including me, and I wished I could see what he was doing. Activating the tether into Faerie, yes, but how? That information would come in handy, especially since he had taken the feather with its coordinates. Say if I managed to escape, which I’ll admit was becoming less likely by the minute.

Concentration lined Raven’s face. Reaching toward nothing, he completed a complex ritual with the hand not anchoring me to the spot. His gaze drifted skyward as a gust of air blasted hairs into my eyes. What he saw up there brought a fierce grin to his face, which I immediately regretted admiring. He caught me at it, cranked his smile up several megawatts and drew me flush against him. His arms encircled my waist, his face dipped toward mine. “The first time is always the worst.”

“What a guy thing to say.” I managed to work my hands between us and shoved to give myself an inch of personal space.

“I envy you.” Wild joy animated him. “You will see Faerie through fresh eyes as I never have.”

A tiny ripple of fear collided with the doubt making my stomach churn.

“I want a guarantee,” I blurted. “Promise no matter what happens to me, you will bring Mom home safely.”

Raven’s lips parted. “You have my word. Regardless of the outcome, I swear to you I will escort your mother safely to this realm.” His gaze flicked upward. “That is the best bargain I can make.”

Considering he had offered without first ensuring reciprocation from me, I nodded. “I accept.”

One hand gripped my nape and guided my head onto his shoulder. The other wound around my waist in back, mashing my soft chest into his much firmer one. He cradled me against the coming storm as much as he was able. His lips moved in a chant at my ear while the world upended.

Three heartbeats passed in silence so loud my head ached. Too bright. My eyes watered. Air sat lighter in my lungs. I gasped until I coughed. Still panicked. Suffocating. Not enough oxygen. It hurt. Breathing hurt. Looking hurt. My skin hurt. Agony like each death I had ever dealt scoured me.

“Thierry?”

Strong hands gripped my shoulders, bruising my tender skin. I screamed until they vanished and my kneecaps sank into spongy ground. I leaned forward, bracing my palms on what felt like moss or peat. After a few minutes passed and I didn’t die, I risked cracking open my eyelids. “This can’t be real.”

Color assaulted my eyes, taunting me with vibrant perfection. My brain tried matching names to shades and failed. Their sharp flavors sat on the tip of my tongue. I was tasting color? Wait... What?

The tether had dumped us into a lush meadow interrupted by gnarly trees covered in moss that sat up and blinked at us with tiny googly eyes that whirled. Mushrooms with jewel-toned caps stopped their steady procession up the side of the nearest trunk to examine us through pinprick eyes. A gorgeous turquoise butterfly fluttered past, only to be shot through the trachea by a toothpick-sized arrow fired from an equally miniature bow