She seemed pleased by the honesty, but not completely swayed. “Tell me again why I should help you do this if it puts you at risk.”
“Because it’s the only chance I have to help someone I care about.”
“A fae woman who couldn’t possibly return the same concern,” clarified Janice.
“If she doesn’t, it won’t work,” said Will. “There has to be some sort of bond between us for me to find her.”
She seemed to come to a decision, and when she spoke again it was with no uncertainty in her voice. “Lie down and close your eyes.”
Chapter 23
Wrapped in a void, Will could sense nothing of the outside world. Losing his vision wouldn’t have been too bad on its own, but he couldn’t feel his body either, and perhaps most disconcerting, his source was gone. There was nothing left of him but a disembodied mind trapped in a sea of darkness.
Unlike the first time he had experienced it, he wasn’t panicked. When Aislinn had done it to him, it had been sudden and without him understanding what she was about to do. This time he had chosen it. Hopefully terror wasn’t the key factor. If it was, he likely wouldn’t succeed.
Rather than try to reach Tailtiu immediately, Will envisioned Janice in his mind. She was close, and they were friends, so there was no doubt in his mind that there was a connection between them. Focusing on her, he began to feel a pressure, as though he was trapped inside a bubble and fighting to pull himself out. It was similar to what he had felt when he had deliberately tried to escape his body, but it wasn’t as strong this time.
Losing all physical sense of myself must weaken the barrier, he thought, promptly losing his image of Janice. He tried again, keeping his mental image firm this time. Once more the pressure built, and then with a sudden rush of light, he was out.
Janice sat beside him on the bed, her face worried as she looked down on him. With a little effort and a few false starts, Will managed to position himself above his body but close enough that he could see her expression clearly. Ouch, he thought as he caught side of the redness of her eyes. Why is she so upset? She knows I’m still fine.
He would have to ask her later. Clearing his mind, he imagined his fae aunt. Her face wouldn’t come to him at first, strangely. Normally he was confident of his imagination, but only an empty, gray space existed where her image should be. No, it’s there. It has to be.
Yet as much as he tried, the memory of her features wouldn’t appear, and a seed of doubt crept into his heart. Had Arrogan been right? Was she truly soulless, heartless—uncaring? No, he wouldn’t believe it.
He kept trying, and though her face wouldn’t appear, he began to hear a faint murmuring, as though someone was whispering just out of view. “I don’t care. I’ll kill you all. There is no pain. Set me free and your death will follow.” The words became clearer the longer he listened, sounding like a litany of cruelty and anger, as though a murderous madman’s thoughts were being shown to the world.
But the voice wasn’t that of a madman. He recognized it. It was pain, his pain. It was his anger too, burning like a sullen ember in the center of his being, desperately wishing it could escape. With the knowledge of its existence, he realized he had a choice, feed the flames, or accept the pain without letting it dictate his actions.
Neither course would heal the wound. Neither would end the suffering, but one choice would offer the illusion of free will while allowing his pain to control him. The other offered freedom, complete with the unavoidable pain of living.
Inside himself, he reached out, embracing the ember and pulling it inward. It was like a small child, hurt and angry, not understanding the world that had wounded it. Will held it to his bosom, trying to convey the feeling to his innermost self, you are not alone. I am here with you.
The words grew louder as the litany continued to repeat, but now he realized the voice was no longer his own, if it ever had been. It was Tailtiu. He listened, and then he tried to call to her. Tailtiu, Tailtiu, Tailtiu, thrice called. Hear me.
The pain grew intense, coloring his inner world with a searing, white light that exploded outward, blinding him. Then it faded, and two eyes appeared, green with cat’s eye pupils. The pain throbbed at his center of his being, and the eyes receded slightly, while the image of a woman’s face grew around them.
Will was in a place of darkness, and his aunt lay on the floor in front of him. Her features were gaunt, emaciated, almost lifeless, as she sprawled like a broken doll. Cruel iron chains held her wrists and ankles, and the skin was black around them. She was in the corner of a large building, chained to the massive wooden supports that framed the wall. Off to the side, Will could see pallets stacked with a variety of crates and boxes.
It was a warehouse.
As he watched her, Tailtiu’s eyes glittered, focusing on him somehow, and when their gazes locked, he felt something click inside himself. The sullen ember of his pain flared within him as it connected with whatever was inside the fae woman. His aunt’s eyes changed, welling with tears, and her lips formed silent words. “Will? It hurts.”
Her features twisted as the pain began to register within her. Somehow Will understood, knowing without being aware of where the knowledge came from. The pain, her pain, had been invisible, unfelt, unknown to her—but Tailtiu was beginning to feel it now. Something had changed.
Her pain grew, and as it did, she began to wail. A scream built, though she didn’t have the strength to express it. Instead it manifested as a breathless, coarse moan, horrifying by virtue of its very impotence. Nearby, Will heard movement, as something drew closer to investigate the sound. He tried to turn and see the source of the sound, but his point of view remain fixed on the vision of his dying aunt.
“She’s screaming,” said a voice, brimming with curiosity. “That’s new.”
Another voice chuckled as it replied, “She can’t even scream properly, but I still want to make it stop.”
“We can’t touch her. Liss will rip our hearts out if we do.”
“He’s a fool. Look at her! I know you can smell it. He’s trying to keep it all to himself.”
“Don’t be stupid. He said the fae were like a drug. I know you’ve tried balung before. It’s like that.”
“It doesn’t do anything to me now. There’s nothing left but blood—blood and whatever it is that’s inside that fae girl. It smells incredible.”
“You’re right about that, but we still can’t risk it. What are you doing?” Will heard the sound of something move, perhaps that of a step being taken.
“It isn’t a drug. Liss lied to us. You know why? Because it’s really power. She’s full of it, and whoever takes her will grow with it.”