Last Car to Annwn Station (16 page)

She passed out.

Mae would have been more amused by Jill’s nearly incoherent mumblings of “Clang, clang, clang went the trolley,” if Jill didn’t look like she had just been sucked into a jet engine and spit out the other side.

Mae was not sure how she managed to lift Jill into the streetcar on her own.
It’s amazing what sheer panic can do for you.
Once they were both safely in the warm car and the car started moving, Mae turned all her attention to her injured friend.

Jill was covered in blood, most of it her own, Mae guessed. Her black hair was a tangled mess of sticky, dried strands. Her face and neck were riddled with tiny cuts and scrapes, like she had been standing in front of a window that exploded.

Mae was afraid to even try to assess the damage to Jill’s left eye. The lid was closed, bruised black and red, and swollen shut. An unpleasant-looking greenish-yellow substance was seeping out the eyelid. Mae feared Jill’s eye would be matted shut, but perhaps that was a mercy.

She managed to work Jill out of her coat, trying to inspect her friend for any possible life-threatening injuries, though Mae was damned if she knew what she would do if she found any.

Jill’s left arm was her first concern. There was a long slash down her forearm, with puncture wounds around that injury. The whole mess was oozing blood. There was a shallow, superficial cut on Jill’s right hip, just enough to break the jeans and draw a thin line across the skin. Jill’s jeans were done for, but the cut itself had stopped bleeding on its own. The small puncture wound on Jill’s back did not look serious, though Mae could not be sure because of all the crusted blood.

Jill’s hands were ruined. There was no other word for it. The skin on the palms was a flayed and tattered mess. The backs of her hands were covered in cuts and abrasions. Mae wished she had something clean and soft to wrap the wreckage in. Infection was too real a danger at this point.

Mae had never felt so helpless. She stroked Jill’s bloody forehead.

“Oh, Jill. What happened to you?”

Mae knew Jill needed immediate medical attention—serious, trauma unit medical attention. She had no idea what she would tell the doctors—or the police when they inevitably showed up—but that did not matter.

“Keep doing that,” Jill muttered, keeping her eyes closed. “Feels good.”

Mae continued her ministrations. “Hang on. I’m going to get you to the emergency room. We’re going to get you fixed up.”

“’Kay.” Jill mumbled. “How are you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” Mae paused, unsure how to put into words what she was feeling. “You came for me.”

“’Course I did. Water?”

Mae picked up the water bottle she had found in Jill’s coat in the same pocket as her baton, and opened the cap. She held Jill’s head steady against the sway of the streetcar as she touched the mouth of the bottle to Jill’s lips and slowly poured. Jill swallowed and licked her lips.

“More, please.”

Mae repeated the process. Jill swallowed and took a handful of deep, ragged breaths and gave a small plaintive moan, her face scrunched up in pain. Mae reached out and stroked Jill’s head again, trying to soothe her while fighting down the panic rising in her. She had no idea what type of internal injuries Jill might have suffered. Mae felt the streetcar begin to accelerate, as if it were responding to her sense of fear and urgency.

“We’re almost there. Just hang on a little longer.” Mae had no idea how far they were from anything, or how quickly she would be able to summon help once they got there.

“Hurts,” Jill whispered.

“I know. I know it hurts. Just a few more minutes, and we’ll have some help. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Jill nodded and swallowed. “I know.”

“You should try to sleep until we get to the hospital.”

“Too scared I might not wake up.”

The thumping of the brakes made Mae look up and grab the baton from where she had left it on the seat. She could not see anything outside of her window. The streetcar stopped. Mae tried to figure out how to get Jill off the vehicle without hurting her more. She was turning to ask the conductor and motorman for aid, when the door opened, and help rushed aboard.

Kravis, a bloody bandage on his head and another on his left arm, strode onto the car. “How in the name of the Seven Guardians did you escape Annwn?”

“I need help. Jill’s been injured.”

Without hesitation he dropped the sword and rucksack he carried and walked directly to Mae and Jill. “Don’t worry. There’s someone here who can take care of her,” Kravis said. He turned back toward the front of the streetcar. “Lady Mirallyn! We need you here now. Jill is injured.”

“Where is she?” a soft female voice asked.

Mae looked up. Standing in the aisle in front of the smaller Ellie, wearing a blood-covered gown and a pensive look, was a woman who Mae only knew through a faded photograph.

Mae stood to face her mother.

“You?” Mae asked.

The woman nodded, pushing past Mae to kneel next to Jill. “Yes.”

Mae stood, shaking for several seconds. She looked from her mother to Jill and back again. “I—I can’t do this right now. We need to get Jill to a hospital.”

The car began to move again, rolling and picking up speed.

Ellie reached out and touched Mae’s arm. “Your friend will be tended by someone who can help her more than any of your doctors could.”

“But—”

“Mae, I need you to please trust me.”

Mae looked closely at Ellie. Her gown was covered in green blood, her face bruised. She was leaning on a wooden cane as the car swayed and rattled along.

“What happened to you?” Mae asked.

“Later,” Ellie said. She nodded toward Jill and Mae’s mother. “For now we need to assist Mirallyn and seek safe haven.”

Mae turned back to Jill. The woman—her mother, Mirallyn—held her hand over Jill’s eyes chanting softly. Kravis was binding Jill’s injuries with strips torn from Mirallyn’s gown. He looked up at Mae and nodded to the makeshift bandage on Jill’s arm.

“Hold this tightly,” he said. “Do not disturb the
swynwraig
.”

“The what?”

“The wizard. Mirallyn. Now hold this.”

Mae collapsed the baton and slipped it into her pocket. She pressed on the bandage Kravis had indicated. “Jill’s eye, it’s—”

“I believe I can save it, daughter,” Mirallyn said.

Mae gave her mother a sharp look. “Then save it and help her, but once Jill’s out of danger, you and I are going to talk.”

“Yes, we will,” Mirallyn said. “There is much to explain.”

Mae frowned. There were a million things she wanted to say to her mother. She wanted to yell, wanted to cry, wanted to demand the woman explain herself. But the most important thing at the moment was Jill, who was mumbling and whimpering.

“Ma’am.”

Mae turned toward the voice. The conductor, Lowry, was standing next to her.

“Yes?”

“We need a destination.”

“Home,” Mae said without a second thought. She could get Jill to the townhouse and call for real help, and damn whatever voodoo her mother thought she was working. Jill needed a real doctor.

“No!” Kravis said. “Your home will be watched by the hounds. The magicians will swoop down on us in an instant.”

Mae rounded on the short faerie. “Jill needs to be in an emergency room!”

“I can heal her injuries,” Mirallyn said.

“I don’t even know you! You left me! Why should I trust anything you say?”

“Mae—” Ellie said softly.

“We need to hide,” Kravis growled.

“Lake house,” Jill whispered. “I have the keys in my coat.”

“Jill—” Mae said, leaning over her mother. “Jill, you need a hospital. And the Arnesons live on the lake. I don’t think we should be that close to them.”

“Trust me. Your mother can heal me, I’ve seen her heal Kravis, but we need someplace where no one will find us,” Jill gasped. “No one is at the lake house. It’s a good mile from the Arneson place and tucked off the road.” Jill took a raspy breath. “Please, Mae. Trust me.”

Mae swallowed and took a deep breath. She could see Jill pleading with her one good eye. Mae nodded and turned back to Lowry. “Conductor, please take us to Jill’s house on Lake Minnetonka.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The car accelerated.

Mae knelt in the aisle, holding the torn cloth over the wound on Jill’s arm while Mirallyn worked on Jill’s other injuries. Ellie pawed through Jill’s coat, producing a set of keys just as the brakes on the streetcar began to thump.

The car stopped, and the red door opened. Ellie zipped out the door in a blur, keys in hand. Mirallyn wordlessly followed, as Kravis lifted the now-unconscious Jill, leaving Mae scrambling to catch up. As she reached the door, the conductor called out to her.

“Miss! Your bag!”

Mae turned. The conductor was holding her battered messenger bag. “Where did you find it?”

“You left it behind after the accident. We’ve been holding it for you.”

Mae took the bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

The conductor touched the bill of his cap. “My pleasure. Good evening to you, ma’am.”

Mae stepped out of the car and it rolled away. She could make out a two-story cottage down a short snow-covered lane.

“We have a problem,” Kravis said, shifting Jill’s limp form in his arms.

He nodded toward the pack, a dozen hounds between them and the hoped-for safety of the lake house Mae and her companions needed to reach. The white hounds howled and growled, their red ears slicked back on their heads. Their eyes glowed red, their teeth gleamed in the early dawn light.

Mae drew the baton from her pocket. There was no point in running. The pack would pull them down before they could ever reach any safe place, and the streetcar was already gone.

Kravis was holding Jill, Ellie was hurt and limping, and Mae didn’t trust her newly found mother. Overcome by a horrible urge to hit something, Mae set her sights on the hound she thought was the pack leader. Mae snapped the baton to full extension, screamed and rushed the C
n Annwn.

The pack scattered before her like dead leaves in the wind, their barks and howls of triumph suddenly turning to yowls of fear and confusion. Mae bore down on the pack leader, weapon raised, holding eye contact with him as she charged. The hound tried to turn and slink away, but was too slow. He rolled over as Mae loomed over him, staring at her with frightened eyes, showing his belly in submission.

Mae checked her downward swing, and the hound cringed and whined. She looked up at the rest of the pack. They milled about among the snowy trees and shrubs, whining, barking in short yips. The darkness rolled away as the first light of true dawn shone in the east. Mae pressed the end of the baton on the pack leader’s throat. The hound looked at her with wide eyes. It whimpered. Mae withdrew the baton from its throat, holding it at the ready.

“Go on then. Get. All of you, get out of here!” Mae yelled.

The pack leader scrambled to all fours and ran for his mates. The entire pack formed up and, with a last look at Mae over their shoulders, turned and raced away, howling and barking.

Mae turned back to the others.

“What the hell happened?” Kravis asked. “One second they were about to rip us apart, and suddenly they’re scared of you?”

“I—I’m not entirely sure why they acted that way.”

“There is no time to wonder. We need to tend our injured,” Mirallyn commanded.

Ellie, Mirallyn and Kravis—the latter still carrying Jill—raced toward the cottage. There was a flash of light as a door opened, and Mae saw Kravis carry Jill into the house. She followed them up the path as quickly as her tired legs would carry here. By the time she reached the door, Ellie was there to meet her.

“Mae?” Ellie said softly, embracing her. “Let’s get you inside.”

“Jill—”

“Don’t worry. She’s going to be okay.”

Mae started to shiver. Now that she was someplace relatively safe, she let her fears free. She went to pieces.

Mae wrapped her arms around Ellie and burst into wracking sobs, her entire body shaking from the force of her emotions. Mae did not know how long she stood there, sobbing out her sorrow while the small faerie woman held her tightly and spoke soothing words.

A strong hand took her arm, and Mae felt herself being led into the cottage. Ellie and Kravis helped her out of her bloody, torn coat. Mae allowed herself to be settled in the middle of a low couch. Kravis placed her bag on the floor near her feet and draped a blanket over her shoulders as Ellie pressed a hot drink into her hands.

Mae looked around. She was in a room that was warm, not just because of its rustic woodlands decor, but also because of the cheerful-looking flames in the fireplace. To her right, perched on the edge of the couch because of her wings, sat Ellie. Mae took a sip from the cup in her hand. It was hot chocolate. She wondered idly how Ellie had found and made it so quickly. She closed her eyes and exhaled as a little shiver ran down her spine. “Promise me Jill’s going to be okay.”

Ellie started cleaning Mae’s face and neck with a kitchen washcloth. “I can promise you that Mirallyn will do everything she can for Jill.”