Read Online Worlds Without End by Caroline Spector - Free Book Online Page B

passes, and then a crimson pool seeps slowly under the door.
    * * *
    Tears ran down my face.
    “Mother, did we make you weep?” asked one of the spriggans. He looked at me with a concerned expression, then burst into laughter.
    “No, no.” said another. “She only cries for her dead children. The rest of us must shift for ourselves.”
    “That’s enough of this nonsense.” I said loudly. I was having trouble breathing. After all, I was getting awfully old for this sort of thing. “This is a ridiculous game. Tell me what I need to know. Now.”
    This caused nothing but giggles from them.
    “You know it’s no good demanding anything from us.” they said. “We always do what we will. Disobedient children.”
    And then they spun me around faster.
    * * *
    The room is spinning. The fire in the hearth is hot and I feel as though it’s burning my bare skin. I’m burning up. Hotter and hotter until I think I’ll go mad from it. Maybe I already have.
    Pain blossoms bright inside me. I shut my eyes and see red against black. Hands touch me trying to soothe, but it is no use. There are some things for which there is no balm.
    Then the pain is over. They bring me something bundled up.
    I hold my arms out to receive this gift. I pull back the blanket. Inside is a horrible apparition.
    “This is not my baby.” I cry. “What have you done with my baby?”
    They take the bundle away from me.
    “It’s a changeling.” says one in a voice she thinks is too soft for me to hear. “The faeries have stolen her baby.”
    * * *
    “You can’t blame us, Mother.” said the spriggan. “That was your own doing.”
    “Oh, be quiet.” I snapped. The spriggan skulked away.
    Sweat ran down my face. I was growing tired of their games.
    “Tell me where they are.” I said.
    “Patience, Mother.” they replied.
    * * *
    I’m running away. The earth rushes below me as I fly. Cradled in my arms is a child. This is no changeling, but my own flesh and blood.
    At last we come to our home. Inside, the air is stale and musty. But that doesn’t matter because we are home and safe.
    The storms come. Rain pounds against the roof and makes the windows rattle. But we don’t mind, we’re warm and dry. Then I remember, someone is coming. Coming for us.
    The door slams open. He is here. But he’s not the real threat. I don’t realize this until it’s too late.
    Foolish foolish woman.
    * * *
    Something jerked me.
    Someone.
    Caimbeul had hauled me from the dance. Looking down, I saw I no longer wore the petal gown. Just my own gray sweater and black jeans. Orange streaks colored the sky to the east.
    “Why did you do that?” I asked.
    “I just now found you.”
    “What?”
    “You went running off, and I couldn’t find you for three days.” he said angrily. “Do you think I enjoyed tramping all over this jerkwater place? I used up a hell of a lot of goodwill trying to figure out where they took you. Not to mention the energy.”
    “Thanks.” I said.
    “Thanks? Thanks. She said, ‘Thanks.’ Is that it?” He was beginning to annoy me. I was searching the ground trying to see if they’d left anything behind for me to go on. And all he was doing was blathering away.
    “Yes, thanks for coming after me. What do you want, Harlequin?”
    “Perhaps some gratitude.” he said. “I’ve been all over Connaught looking for you. It’s taken a hell of a lot of casting to locate you.”
    “I hope you’re up to some more.” I said.
    “Why?” A suspicious look crossed his face. “Because the only way I know now to reach the Court is by calling up the Hunt.”
    He looked a little pale. I was glad to see he still had some respect for the old ways.
    “The Chasse Artu?”
    “Yes.” I said, feeling a little happier at the thought. “The Wild Hunt. It’s been so long since I’ve called one, let alone two. We really must make preparations.”
    “Are you mad? You can’t possibly call up the Hunt yourself.” he said. There was a