Black Moon Draw(94)

The hallway is clogged with purple clouds emanating from the doorway at its end. I move towards it, not liking how much harder it is to breathe here than anywhere else in the castle. The sensations of being ready to pass out are creeping up on me. My pulse is racing, my ears straining for any sound indicating the ceiling above us is collapsing. My instincts are screaming for me to hurry, to discover some magical way to save the Shadow Knight’s life.

“This is it,” I murmur. We reach the door outlined in purple light. “God, I hope this works.”

“What do we do?” he asks.

“I’m not sure.” I release his hand and reach for the doorknob only to discover there is none. I rest both palms on the rough wood lightly and trace them over it, seeking some other method of opening it. Finding none, I push.

The door swings open to reveal a torch lit room behind it.

“I see naught,” the Red Knight leans past me.

“Me neither.” Frustrated, I stare into the empty chamber. There’s no source of purple smoke and gray fog, not even furniture.

The stone floor pitches again, the dying throes of a world about to cease to exist. I smack into the side of the doorway and brace my arms against it. There’s no doubt this is where the fog is coming from.

“We go in,” I decide.

The Red Knight takes my hand. “Agreed.”

I glance up at him, tears blinding me. “You sure you want to do this?”

“What choice is there?” he replies.

Swallowing hard, I nod.

“Witch, do me one favor,” he adds, uncertainty slipping into his shaky voice for the first time. “If you survive this, and I am trapped or lost, swear you will summon me.”

Not about to tell him I have no idea how to do that, I nod. “Okay. I will.”

“You will need my name.”

“What is it?”

“Jareth.”

“Jareth?” I squeak. It’s the name of the Villain in the Labyrinth. For a split second, I experience a sinking feeling in my gut, one that tells him accompanying me may not be a good idea after all. With no clear-cut loyalties and a bizarre motivation to find LF that I don’t understand, I may be helping someone I shouldn’t get a leg up in a way that could backfire down the road.

Assuming we survive, which doesn’t look likely.

“Fare thee well, Naia,” the Red Knight says and releases my hand. He enters, vanishing the moment he steps foot into the vacant room.

There’s magic here, hidden somewhere. Desperate to save the Shadow Knight and his world, I leap into the deceptively empty room.

The walls ripple and change from stone to plaster, the stone floor turning to familiar carpet. The shattering of stones of the world crumbling behind me is replaced by the faint sound of the air conditioning system and the quiet television I left playing.

“Oh, dear god!” I breathe.

I’m back in my apartment.





Chapter Twenty Three





“What just happened?” I’m talking to the bathroom door. Stunned, I turn around. “Red Knight? You here?”

No answer.

My eyes sweep over the cramped living area, where my movies still play on a loop on the TV, to the desk crammed into the three foot of wall space between the couch and the two-person dining area. The kitchen light is on like I left it, along with the bedroom light. My apartment has always been small, but it never seemed constrictive or uninspiring before. There’s barely room to move from one side to the other.

A sense of disbelief, coupled with disorientation, renders me motionless. The walls cease rippling as this reality takes hold, and I listen to the quiet discussion occurring between the boy-hero of The Neverending Story playing on the television and the beautiful princess I wanted to be like when I was little. She’s handing him the spark meant to bring back the world he lost.

I blink and look away. It isn’t possible I’m here.

“I’m going crazy.” This is my apartment – and yet it no longer feels like mine. The woman who lives here isn’t a battle-witch alternately feared and valued by a barbaric society that’s starting to grow on me. The owner of this place is . . . depressing. There’s no spark of life anywhere here, no pride of ownership or attempt to personalize the blank walls. This place could belong to anyone. It’s not special or remotely charming, and it reflects my attempt to remain as anonymous as possible passing through life. The only part that shows a bit of personality is my desk. By personality, I mean it’s messy.

What am I supposed to do now? How is my apartment at the center of a curse?

Is this even real?

I go to my desk and touch the two empty wine bottles beside the computer screen.

The glass is cool beneath my fingertips. I remember drinking the first bottle and opening the second before my blackout started. A picture of Jason and me is flat on its face next to a stack of library books I’m reading.

I’m home, and so out of place, I can’t begin to determine what I feel.

Did I even go anywhere or was it some bizarre dream? The sense of not being fully a part of any world makes my breathing quicken. A glance down at my clothing reassures me I’m dressed for Black Moon Draw, covered in the blood of the Shadow Knight.

“Hello?” I call to no one. There’s nothing unusual or out of place that indicates I’m still in the book. Fear catches up with me, along with desperation. “I can’t be here! Send me back! I have to save him!”