Jennifer sighed and took a bite of the sandwich. Thawing from a petrifying spell had left her famished.
Rory pulled her closer, keeping the hand draped around her shoulders. He ignored his sandwich, more concerned with holding her. “My ma doesn’t know how to be helpless. The truth is, she doesn’t know what is causing this enchantment. So she hopes by forcing truths out of ya, she’ll figure out the answer. I’ll let her brew her potion because it will keep her busy.”
Jim found a particularly fascinating leaf and brought his shoulders low to the ground as he waited for it to move. His back legs were straight, keeping his bum in the air. His tail wagged erratically. Damn, he was cute. And so small.
“And you? What do you think?” She took another bite.
“I think that these webs have to untangle on their own. There will be an answer, but magick has a way of revealing itself. We just have to wait, watch, and be vigilant.”
Jennifer turned in her seat to look toward the back of the house. The shrubs were manicured and spaced with precision, and not a single weed grew between them. A shadowed figure peered out at them from a window. She couldn’t tell which uncle it was, but the man lifted his hand at her attention to show he was avidly watching.
“I think the watching part is taken care of,” she said, waving back.
“It won’t be like this for long,” he assured her.
“No? How long do these enchantment-possession-spell things usually last?” She wondered if he was just trying to make her feel better.
“Depends. From start to finish? Some are in the making for centuries. Others are ten, twelve years. Some are short, fast, like a blow to the gut, but then over.”
“How long from the time they activate until they are done?” she clarified.
Centuries? Her definition of not long was more like half a day. Being mortal with less than a hundred years lifespan probably did put things like time in a different perspective. Also, her sense of urgency would be a little higher, considering she’d never dealt with the supernatural before.
“Months at best,” he answered.
“And at worst?”
He bit his lip, mumbling, “Centuries.”
“Centuries.” She leaned away from him to study his face.
“But customarily that’s a sleeping curse or being encased in stone or turned to salt or—”
“I was in stone,” she interrupted.
“That was a petrifying spell. Completely different things.” He tried to pull her against him once more.
Jennifer resisted so she could look at him more fully. “So if we love each other, and we’re together, does that mean I have centuries to wait?”
The prospect of being forced to live on edge for so long out of fear of killing the man she loved was horrifying.
“Ya haven’t said ya love me,” he answered, his voice low.
“Everyone keeps saying it for me.” She couldn’t help her wry smile.
“I won’t believe it until I hear it from ya.” He leaned closer. His hand worked against her shoulder, pulling her gently toward him for a kiss.
“I love—”
Jim yelped, startling them.
They turned to see his little back paws disappear into the trees as he ran away from them.
“Crap.” Jennifer thrust her sandwich into Rory’s hand and jumped up from the bench. “I’ll get him.”
She automatically chased the dog.
“Jennifer, wait!” Rory called. She could hear him running after her.
Her attention focused on following the sound of Jim’s feet. As she came around a curve in the dirt path, she saw him ahead of her digging into the ground. She slowed her pace and tried to calm her breathing as she went to fetch him.
“Dammit, Ji—” Something caught her back foot, and she stumbled.
When her front foot hit the ground to right herself, it too became caught. She flung her arms for balance as she felt herself starting to sink into the forest floor.
“Rory!” she yelled.
“Where…?” He appeared behind her.
Jim stopped digging and now watched them.
“Careful, it’s muddy. My feet are stuck.” She looked for an overhead branch to pull herself out. The more she struggled, the deeper she sank. It enveloped her calves. “Rory?”
“I’m here. Try not to move,” Rory ordered. “I’ll find a way to get ya out.”
Jim barked.
“Ugh, it smells like rotten eggs.” Jennifer gagged.
“Sulfur,” he answered.
“Sulfur? Isn’t that what they say demons give off in haunting movies?” Jennifer began to panic in earnest. She pushed at the ground, but her hands came back muddy. She tried to pull on her thigh to dislodge a leg. The other leg sank past her knee.
“Jennifer, stop fighting it,” Rory called. She heard him rustling around behind her. “Sulfur as in a peat bog. The smell gives it away—sulfur and methane.”
“What is a peat bog doing in Wisconsin?” It was a little difficult not to panic, seeing how the earth was trying to swallow her whole. “I thought those were all in the moors of Scotland or something.”
“That is what you’re concerned about? With everything ya have seen of magick, Wisconsin peatlands is what ya question? There are kettle holes all over North Wisconsin.”
“Kettle-what?” She tried not to panic. Her heart beat fast, and she found it difficult to breathe.
“Peatland borders kettle lakes,” he said, his voice strained. “They normally feel squishy and unsteady when ya walk over them, like a layer of water is under the ground.”
“I have no idea why you’re telling me any of this.” Jennifer tried to turn to look at him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m distracting ya so ya quit struggling,” he said. “I’m going to get as close as I can and pull ya out with this branch. There is no way to tell how big this sinkhole thing is.”
Jim barked again.
“What branch?” Jennifer asked. “I can’t see it.”
“Stay back, little buddy,” Rory ordered. She heard a stick whack on the ground behind her.
“Can’t you just magick me out?” she asked. The bog became colder the deeper she went.
“I don’t want to alarm ya, but my magick is not working at the moment.” Rory whacked the ground again, coming closer.
Was she mistaken, or did she detect fear in his voice?
Jim barked again and bounded toward Jennifer.
“No, Jim, bad dog! Sit,” she yelled, trying to scare him back.
Jim’s paws dented the ground as he neared her. His curious expression said he didn’t understand (or care about) the command.
“Rory, get ready for Jim!” Jennifer held out her hands as the puppy approached. The second she touched fur, she grabbed Jim by the waist and lifted him from the mud. She tried to twist her body and lightly tossed him toward Rory and out of harm’s way. The dog landed safely, but unfortunately, the movement tilted her back, and she sank deeper. Her left hip was sucked under, and soon her side followed. She tried to keep her hand up, but her arm and shoulder were next to go under.
“Rory?” Jennifer felt tears streaming hot across her temple. “Any time now.”