The Aetherfae (29 page)

Markus stalked up to the edge of the lake and paused for a long time—several seconds at least, but I lost count. Then he dipped into the water, sending my heart to the races.
Thump-thum
p, thump-thump.
The timpani of rushing blood in my ears became deafening. He glided across the surface and I felt his energy inching its way closer. Like hot breath on my neck, his energy washed over me. I shuddered.

He climbed out of the water above me and slipped inside the little building. We were less than ten feet apart. Dersha glided down from the sky, probably in the shape of a bird, and stopped above him. She changed shape, into what I didn’t know, and slipped inside, beside him.
Oh my god
, oh my god. Get ready—concentrate, stay calm. You have this.

They’d sensed me—I knew it. Just before I formed Quint, my gut told me to stop.

“
Any sign of the girl
?” Dersha asked.

“
None—yet. She couldn’t have slipped past us. She is probably hidin
g among the humans,”
Markus responded.
Oh my god, stay calm,
I repeated over and over in my mind.

Chalen slithered across the water and joined them. “
Trielle has seen her image in one of the humans. It’s recent. He may be hiding her.”

Breath caught in my lungs.

“
Where is this human
?” Dersha asked.

Chalen laughed. “
In a restaurant a quarter mile from here—talking about a disappearing girl
.”

“
That’s her. We have her
—
we should move now
,” Markus said.

“
She is using Clóca—continue the search. Tell the
others not to let her slip past us. She is very clever.”

Chalen gagged in protest.

“
Need I remind you, she slipped away from us once already. I’ve hunted million-year-old Fae who are easier to track. Go back to your grid, Chalen. Search for her compa
nions—she wouldn’t travel without them
.”

My lungs burned when I realized I’d been holding my breath. I’d waited too long to breathe and began to panic as my body fought to force the spent air out and suck in fresh.

“
What do we do if we find her friends
?” Markus asked.

“
Keep them alive until we have her. Then do whatever you desire. We don’t need them,
” she said.

Markus shifted shapes and slipped back into the water. Dersha moved quickly to the east, but Chalen lingered. My eyes began to water and I thought I was going to pass out. The burning sensation turned to spasms—I wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer.

Chalen cursed at me and then flashed across the lake. Stars replaced the blackness filling my vision and I formed an
Air
barrier inside the Earth energy field. I didn’t have time to see if Markus had noticed—he was only fifty feet away. Air rushed noisily out of my chest and I gasped, in wounded cries, desperately trying to fill my lungs. I only managed to keep the barriers in place. As I swallowed another breath, Markus paused.
God, something as stupid as remembering to breathe is going to do me in.

But, just like before, after a few seconds he began inching forward again.
How? How did they not find me? That doesn’t matter. Just breath
e.

THIRTY

STANDING GROUND

W
ith a half-mile between the Fae and me, I shimmied through a temporary opening in the massive gate at the edge of the compound. They didn’t notice when I emerged from the lake—they appeared to be congregated around a certain gap-toothed Frenchman. I felt bad for Louis, and even though I suspected he was a womanizer, I was afraid of what they’d do to him. There wasn’t much time to feel bad, though. Dersha would learn rather quickly where he saw me, and she’d be able to track my scent in and out of the lake. Distance was what I needed now. Part of my pity for Louis dissolved when I realized he’d circled four areas on the map, rather than one.
Really, Louis?

Each appeared to be a popular bouldering site, whatever bouldering was, so I picked the closest one first. Franchard was just west of town and in the middle of the forest. On the sidewalk outside the gate, I considered my options. Because I needed to get into the forest, and fast, I ignored the Smartcar and the collection of Peugeots and headed straight for a motorcycle—even though I’d never ridden one before.
It’s just a bike with a motor, right? How hard can it be?

From behind a tree, I extended Clóca and it disappeared. There wasn’t anyone around to notice. It was a blue racy-looking BMW. The instant I straddled it I felt uneasy. After sitting atop the bike for a couple of seconds, I realized I didn’t know how to start it. I’d hotwired Aunt May’s boat once, but this ignition system seemed more complicated. Too complicated.

Just then, I noticed a young guy in spandex on a bicycle behind me. He was peddling my way and it only took an instant to figure out what I was going to do. Guilt bubbled in my chest. “Really? Grand theft Huffy? I’m going to pedal out of the city while being chased by Fae. Idiotic.”
Well, you’re not smart enough to hotwire a motorcycle, what choice do you have?

When he got close, I connected with the energy in his body. Like I’d done with Tadewi, I pulled it out of him. He wobbled and passed out. I caught him before he hit the ground and hid him from view. He was out cold. “God, I feel so bad. I should have just asked.” I whimpered.
No, if he’d seen you, the Fae would be all over him.

Like usual, my inner voice was right. He never saw me. I pulled him to the stone wall in a nice shady spot and pushed five thousand soggy Euros into his jersey.
“
That should cover the cost…and it’s not really stealing…just think of it as a hostile takeover.”

I climbed on the bike, said, “Sorry,” and set off. It didn’t have a motor, but I didn’t need one. With Air at my back I was zipping past parked cars as fast as any motorcycle. No one could see or hear me, and that made my escape just that much easier. At a roundabout with an obelisk in the middle, I pulled my phone out and tried to use GPS. It didn’t come on. “Wet. Oh great, swim with the phone, that’s brilliant—I’ll dry it out later.”

With Louis’ map in hand, I plotted a course to Franchard. With the aid of Air power, I could go as fast as I felt comfortable going. I wound my way through the outskirts of Fontainebleau, and at a bend in Rue Gabriel Fournier I went right along a bike path that crossed under a busy highway. A short distance later, I was heading west along the wooded path toward Franchard. The trail was paved and lightly traveled, so gradually I increased my speed. I flew past a golf course and continued deeper into the woods. The directions on the map were a little confusing, so I ended up changing trails twice, hoping I was headed in the right direction. About two miles from town, I lost contact with the Rogues and crossed another road with light car traffic.

There were several cars in a small parking lot about a quarter mile past the road, so I slipped into the woods and dropped the Clóca barrier.

“Bastien, are you here?”

Nothing.

I pedaled down another trail, like a normal person, and emerged in an area where the trees were spread further apart and footpaths led in dozens of directions between large gray sandstone outcroppings. Some of the boulders were small, some were the size of cars, and others were enormous. On many of the rocks, there were bizarre white spots that appeared completely out of place.

The Rogues were still out of my range, so I called to Bastien again. A breeze rustled the leaves and whistled over imperfections in the tree bark. Somewhere in the distance the voices of people ricocheted off the stone surfaces, and above the ceiling of green leaves, the gray haze of rain clouds floated silently across the sky. A storm was moving in—I tried to ignore the obvious metaphor. If Bastien was close, he didn’t answer.

I discovered a couple things a little further down the trail. First, bouldering was apparently the local term for rock climbing, as I found several people around my age scaling the stone slabs. Second, the odd white marks were places where the climbers grabbed finger and toeholds. Given the number of spots and the size of the marks, I gathered that bouldering was quite the popular pastime in Fontainebleau. Finally, I realized just how difficult it would be to find carved stones. It was no wonder people missed their relevance, as Sherman said. Several stones were in completely unique shapes. If a boulder had been carved thousands of years ago and worn down over time, it could easily pass for any of the hundreds I’d seen in the last fifteen minutes.

After I wandered away from the climbers, I called to Bastien again.

No reply.

My gut told me he wasn’t there, so I turned my attention to the next area Louis had circled on the map. Four or five miles to the west lay a huge area of boulders called Trois Pignon. I studied the map and memorized the path. I didn’t intend to hide, hoping that Bastien would hear my inner pleas, but Markus entered my range. The Fae had apparently figured out what direction I went. My heart rate increased and all the moisture disappeared from my mouth.

Behind Clóca and Air, I moved along another path as fast I could safely manage. A few minutes into my trek, I realized I’d picked a mountain bike trail that crawled up and down a series of hills that weren’t indicated on the map. Had I ridden under my own power, it would have taken me forty-five minutes or longer to wind my way to Trois Pignon. With an elemental assist, I covered half the distance in five. Once again, I put enough space between the Rogues and me that I didn’t sense anything beyond the natural energy in the forest.

Passing underneath a busy six-lane road, I happened on another parking lot. Like the last, this one was full of cars and no people—I was close to another bouldering area. I dropped the Clóca and crawled off the bike near a more detailed map on a marquee. It was full of bad news. There were dozens of places to climb and they were spread out over a huge area. My stomach cramped when I realized I didn’t have time to search miles of trails with the Rogues actively seeking me out.

“Bastien, are you here? Please, I need you.”

As before, there was no reply.

I wanted to pick a place that sounded like it was important and start looking, but everything was written in French. I might as well have been going in blind. “Man, I wish I’d taken French instead of Spanish, but who knew?
”
I decided to go with the closest point on the map—and pray.

As I started off across the parking lot, I saw the rear end of a familiar car. It looked like the rusty, hideous old Citroën that had carried me to Veluwezoom.
No, it’s similar, but not the same car.
The more I looked at it, the more convinced I became that I was wrong. Completely convinced it couldn’t be the one, I took off toward the path to the first set of boulders.

“Are you planning to steal my car again?” asked a familiar voice.

When I turned in the direction of the voice, I saw the friendly face of an elderly black man. Jean peaked out of the driver’s side window. I shook my head, and he laughed, exposing long crooked yellowed teeth.

“You didn’t steal the bicycle did you?”

I felt my face blush. “I paid for it—five thousand Euros.”

I need to get moving. Just be polite and say goodbye.

He winced, wrinkling the skin on his weathered face even more. “Oh, that is too much, I think.”

“Yeah, I know. He wasn’t receptive to any bickering.”

Jean studied me, his dark, cloudy eyes fixated on mine. “Where are your friends?”

“Alsace.”

“Ah, wine tasting?”

“Yeah, taking it easy…”

He slowly crawled out of the car. “Why are you in the forest? Do you climb?”

I laughed. “No, I don’t. I’m looking for…a friend…of a friend. We share a mutual interest in archeology.”

He strolled up to me. “Archeology? Here?”

“Yes sir. I heard that some of the boulders are carved—some of the oldest ones in the world.”

He grinned again. “Interesting. It seems they are right—they being, well, the people who say such things—you do learn something new every day.”

“Jean, why are you here?” I really needed to get moving, but how could I leave him here? Seeing me again put him in more danger.

“It is on my, how do you say, bucket list?”

“Yeah, that’s the term.”

He glanced into the woods. “I have heard this is a popular place for Parisians. I came down to see why.”

“What do you think?’

“I think Parisians need to get out more. As far as I can tell, there really isn’t much remarkable about the area—trees, hills, sand, and boulders. The Alps are far more interesting. But what do you really expect of Parisians, yes?’

“I don’t know. I’ve never been to Paris.”

“You must go, at least once. If nothing else, you can say you’ve been and then sit around with everyone else who has been and convince each other of its magnificence—and then complain about the imps who live there.”

I laughed. “I take it you don’t care for Paris?’

He stuck his tongue out over his lower lip and grunted. “Where is your friend?”

“Who?’

“The archaeologist you’re meeting, of course.”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t know exactly, I think…” The words froze in my throat as I felt Markus in the east. He was definitely on my trail.

“Is there something wrong?” Jean asked.

Fear bubbled up in my chest again—Jean was in danger. The Fae would surely find him and figure out that he’d seen me. I needed to get away from him, try to convince him to leave.

“Jean, I’m sorry, I need to ask you something—a favor. It’s going to sound very strange.”

A scowl appeared on his face. “You are in trouble again, aren’t you? You didn’t really destroy that bridge did you?”

“No, oh my god, you heard about that…no I didn’t, I swear.”

“Tell me, child, are you running from the authorities?” He backed up a step.

“No…I…well, yes, I am, but I’m being framed. Please, you have to believe me—there are people looking for me who are much more dangerous than the authorities. I don’t have time to explain—you wouldn’t believe me if I tried. The important thing is for you to get as far away from me and as far away from here as you can. If they find out that you’ve been talking to me, they will…do bad things.”

Jean backed up several more steps. In the distance, it appeared that Markus had caught my scent. He was moving quickly toward us. But so far, there were no others.

“Jean, please, I have to go. You need to leave this place and drive away—far away.”

“What have you done, Maggie? Will I be in trouble for driving you and your friends to the Netherlands?”

“I haven’t done any of the things I’ve been accused of,” I said, climbing back onto my bike.

The road wasn’t far. If I left now, I could get on it and go south. I might even get away. Jean fumbled behind himself for the door handle, whispering something to himself in French. He shook his head and looked me up and down. I needed to go, but I had to make sure he left first. Jean helped me and I wasn’t going to leave him with the likes of Markus.

“Jean, please, you have to leave now. Drive fast…”

Markus shot to the road. I was uncloaked and he recognized me. My stomach lurched and I threw up in the parking lot. Jean shuffled to my side as I begged him to go.

“I’m not going to leave you while you’re ill. I will get you some help—”