Masquerade (Creepy Hollow, #4)

BOOK: Masquerade (Creepy Hollow, #4)
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Masquerade

Copyright © 2012 Rachel Morgan

Cover Design by Rachel Morgan

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information please visit

www.rachel-morgan.com

Kindle Edition Licence Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Kindle ebook ISBN: 978-0-9870290-6-5

Smashwords ebook ISBN: 978-0-9870290-7-2

T
ABLE
O
F
C
ONTENTS

 

 

 

 

There isn’t much in life that can surprise me. I’ve been trained to remain alert, to be constantly aware of my surroundings. Aside from being knocked out in the middle of Creepy Hollow forest and struck on the head while hiding in Scarlett’s Underground room, I can’t think of any other occasion where I’ve been caught off guard.

But there is nothing that can prepare me for the shock of finding Zell here, in this dark and silent cave buried within a mountain, where Nate and I should be perfectly alone. On our first date. Far, far away from the crimson-haired faerie who abducted and almost killed us.

My brain

cuts

out.

“Excellent job, Nathaniel,” says Zell. “Thank you for getting her here so quickly.”

Getting her here so quickly.

I feel like someone is squeezing my head. I blink. I can see a shaft of dim light pouring from the hole in the rock ceiling high above us. Nate is an outline on the other side. I can’t see his face.

 “Do you like what he’s done with the weather?” Zell continues. “He can’t quite control it yet, but his storms are certainly impressive, don’t you think?”

His storms. The weather.

“I must say, I was pleasantly surprised at how little it took to convince him to join—”

My brain jolts awake, and I do the first sensible thing I can think of.

I kick Zell.

At least, I try to kick him. But he must have a shield up, because I find myself thrown backward onto the ground. “Now, now,” he says. “There’s no need to get violent.” I expect him to come after me, but he doesn’t. He remains in front of the opening to the cave. Blocking my way out.

Without getting up, I hurl a ball of fire at him. Then two of my guardian daggers, a shower of stones, shards of ice,
anything
I can think of.

His shield repels them all. And he won’t move, and there’s no other way out, and I’m going to die here inside this dark mountain with that hateful smirk on his face and my traitor ex-boyfriend watching from the—

Stop freaking panicking!

There is another way out.

I push myself to my feet, ignoring the painful sting as my dress scrapes across my grazed back. I don’t know if I have enough power for this, but I certainly don’t have time to gather any more. I crouch down, tense, and jump. Gravity should pull me down, but magic is stronger than gravity. I propel myself upward, toward the opening in the rock ceiling.

“No!” Zell shouts. I hear him running. Bright light streaks past me, burning my arm. Something hard hits my side. I’m falling, tumbling. I slow myself down, but the impact when I hit the ground still knocks the air from my lungs. I see the cave entrance, unblocked. I scramble up and run.

Zell is shouting. I’m gasping for air. Blasts of magic shoot down the tunnel, lighting up the way for me. I zigzag as much as the tunnel will allow, doing my best to dodge the magic. Sparks sear across my shoulder. It burns, but I don’t stop running.

Memories flash across my open eyes: The storm that appeared when Zell hung Nate over the cliff; the snow in Angelica’s chamber; the rain beating against Nate’s window.

My head whacks into the low part of the front cave’s ceiling, and I land on my back on the ground. My vision blurs horribly. Pain threatens to knock me out. Somehow, though, I remain conscious. I roll onto my hands and knees and push myself up, leaning against the wall so I don’t fall over.

Throb. Throb. Throb.

The mouth of the front cave tilts strangely across my line of vision. I can hear the gurgle of the stream that bubbles up into this cave before it disappears into the mountain below me. Flashes of lightning illuminate the gash in the mountainside that leads to my freedom. I stumble forward. So close.

With a shimmer, a doorway appears in the air several feet ahead of me. Zell steps out of it. Without hesitation, he pushes his fist forward into the air, sending a bolt of power straight at me. It hits me right in the center of my stomach.

Pain!

I cry out and double over. My arms feel wet. And I’m falling again. But I stagger to the side, toward the water, and when my body hits something, it isn’t the ground. It’s the stream. With an agonizing gasp of air, I disappear into the mountain.

There’s water in my mouth, and bubbles all around me, and flailing limbs and smooth stone and a slide that twists and turns. I cough and choke and try to keep my head above water as I yank my stylus out of my boot and cling desperately to it. But there’s no way I can open a doorway while falling through this water. My body is flung from side to side, and I can’t focus on anything other than simply trying to
breathe
. The slide straightens out and, with no warning at all—though what warning I might have been hoping for, I have no idea—I shoot out into the stormy sky above the waterfall.

Falling, falling, falling.
Open a doorway. Come on. You are going to die if you don’t open a freaking doorway
now
!
I drop into the black void, thinking of home and the Guild and Tora, all within split seconds of each other, and when I tumble onto the earth and knock my head against something hard, I have no idea where I am. Trees spin above me, and rain patters down onto my face. A fork of lightning cuts across the sky. Is it possible this is the same storm I just fled from?

The trees continue to spin. Pain starts to fade into a strange numbness. I raise a shaking hand to my face and feel a whole lot of stickiness running down my cheek. If I could touch the back of my head, I’d probably find blood there as well. I’m too terrified to put my hands anywhere near my stomach; I know the damage is bad. Is it bad enough that my body won’t be able to heal itself before it . . . shuts down?

I remember now that Tora is away; she’s visiting some foreign Guild. I’ll have to try to get to Flint instead. My stylus must have fallen somewhere nearby, but the thought of turning my head to look for it makes me want to be sick.

Perhaps someone will see me. Perhaps I should just lie here and wait for a little while.

Time passes.

I think of nothing, especially not
him
. The one who took me there, who handed me over. I watch the glow-bugs become visible as night falls. Sprites shake water from their delicate wings. The rain gets heavier, and I start to shiver. I manage to twist my head to the side so rainwater doesn’t keep choking me.

Darkness draws closer. Perhaps I’m falling asleep.

Above the sound of rain and thunder, I imagine I hear the crunching sound of footsteps nearby. Is it possible? Are footsteps loud enough to be heard over heavy rain?

Please see me
, I think.
Please see me and help me
.

When a pair of boots appears in my hazy line of vision, I can’t figure out if they’re real or imagined. But then I realize that I recognize the boots—thorns etched into metal buckles—and I want to scream.

Why?
I demand silently.
Why him?
I would have begged for anyone to come and help me.
Anyone
—except Ryn. He’s the only person I know who may actually choose to let me die instead of trying to help me.

The world tilts. Rain falls in every direction, and I can’t tell up from down. What is he doing? Will he hang me upside down and watch me die? Watch the blood drain from my body? What a sickening thought. It’s the last one I have before the world gives a final lurch and pushes me into oblivion.

BOOK: Masquerade (Creepy Hollow, #4)
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