Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)(75)

“I’ll be just down the path,” Falin said, but a frown claimed his expression, and he didn’t head in the direction he’d indicated.

I gave him another nod, barely listening as I reached out with my senses. There was definitely something here. It didn’t feel malicious, but I still stopped to pull my dagger from the sheath in my boot. After all, I had no idea if Jenny was hiding somewhere out of sight.

Picking my way carefully through the underbrush, I followed the trail of magic like it was a bit of unwound string I could track back to its ball of yarn. It led me away from the edge of the pond, through a small copse of trees, and to a clearing. In the very center of the clearing stood a small sapling, and the trail I’d been following culminated around the thin tree.

I approached it carefully. Despite the fact we were half through October, dark glossy leaves still clung to the branches and flowers bloomed sporadically amid the green foliage.

An amaranthine tree.

I was far from an expert on Faerie flora, but the only other amaranthine tree I knew of grew in the center of the VIP section of the Eternal Bloom, and it acted as the door to Faerie. I didn’t know for sure if all of the trees marked doors, and if they did, if those doors randomly sprang up wherever the trees took root, but I did know I didn’t like this tree being so close to the fouled pond.

Also, the tree wasn’t that far off the path, and in my experience, the flowers had a hypnotic quality. All Nekros needed was for hikers to start disappearing after stumbling into Faerie and becoming changelings. Besides, because of the agreements made after the Magical Awakening, it was illegal for a gate to be unguarded and unrestricted for that very reason. Someone official needed to know about this tree, and hey, I happened to be in the forest with the lead FIB agent—you didn’t get much more official than that when it came to fae matters.

I sheathed my dagger and dug my phone out of my pocket. It, of course, had no signal.

Damn.

I snapped a couple of pictures with my phone and then studied the clearing around me, trying to pick out landmarks. I could probably follow the flow of magic back to the tree, but just in case, I wanted some markers rooted in mortal reality. If there was one thing almost all folklore agreed on, it was that finding a door to Faerie once didn’t indicate you’d ever be able to find it again. Granted, those stories were about humans interacting with Faerie, but still, better safe than sorry.

I made my way back to the pond’s edge, noting anything I thought could help guide me back to the sapling. I was so busy searching for landmarks and checking the phone for signal that the splash of water directly behind me didn’t register.

At least, not until a pair of green-tinted arms wrapped around my shoulders, a hand clamped over my mouth, and I was dragged backward, into the befouled water.

? ? ?

I screamed, but the water was already rushing up all around me and the sound emerged trapped in bubbles. The afternoon sun vanished behind a veil of algae. My eyes stung from the dirty water, but I didn’t dare squeeze them closed.

And the arms continued dragging me down and down, the light of the surface winking away.

The pond couldn’t possibly be this deep, not this close to the bank.

But it was. Somehow.

Thrashing, I struggled to retrieve my dagger from my boot. A slimy strand of black seaweed wrapped around my wrist, pulling it away from my body. Another strand wrapped around my other wrist, then my upper arms, my ankles, my waist, until I was immobilized. Only then did the arms encircling my shoulders release me.

In the dark water, I could only just make out the shape of the figure as she floated up, over my head and then spun so that her upside-down face was inches from mine. Jenny smiled, flashing those pointy green teeth of her namesake.

“Oh my,” she said, tutting under her breath. Despite the laws of acoustics in water, I heard her words clearly. She didn’t even make bubbles as she spoke. “You’re old enough to know better than to play around my bog.”

I scowled and pulled at the restraints holding me.

“Why so quiet?” She laughed. “A little smarter than you look, then. But conserving your air won’t help. And that scream when you first went under is going to cost you.”

She was right. My chest burned, my lungs aching with the need to draw breath. How long had I been underwater already? A minute? A minute and a half?

Jenny twisted upright and floated down until we were face-to-face again. Her dark hair flowed around her, blending into the murky depths of the water as she gave me an appraising once-over. I kept struggling.

“He wants you alive,” she said, her smile fading. “I don’t see why. But how much more air do you have? Maybe you accidentally drown while I subdue you.” She pressed a long-fingered hand over her chest. “There was just nothing poor Jenny could do.” She laughed again.

Crap. I had to do something. Fast.

I dropped my shields, looking around. There were dead things aplenty on the bottom of the pond—I could feel their picked-over bones—but thankfully none were human. Unfortunately, deer and hog shades weren’t going to do a lot to prevent me from drowning. I glanced at the seaweed holding me, hoping against hope it was simply a glamour I could disbelieve away.

It wasn’t.

The seaweed was not only real, but alive, so I couldn’t drag it over to the land of the dead and rot it away. Damn. A bubble of exhausted air slipped from between my lips. I needed oxygen, and soon.