Page 7 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
“What are you doing?” Alice calls over the rising wind. But I can’t answer. The voice has taken over my body—it is deep, sonorous, ancient. My will rises up, furious at being overtaken, but I’m no match for the voice, because it’sinsideme, it’s my own blood, my bones, my past and my future.
On and on the voice speaks, a chant sucked from the book into my fingers, then vomited from my unwilling throat.
This wasn’t my plan. I intended to take my time with this—I don’t understand what’s happening, and I don’t like being controlled, but I can’t break free. I can’t even struggle. It’s as if a deeper call from within me is answering another call somewhere beyond my physical hearing—a beacon in the infinite distance, beyond sight.
The invocation ends, and the voice speaks through me one more time, a bellow over the violent whirlwind circling the barn. “Blood calls to blood,” it intones.
The beams of the barn are cracking, the walls shuddering. Fiero leaps into my lap, and Alice screams.
Magic pours out of me, an uncontrollable flood, joining with the purpose of the book and with something else—something that ispullingme, pullingus, compelling my soul with the force of its need. A face flashes into my mind—too briefly for me to grasp its features, but I have the strangest feeling I’ll know it if I see it again.
With a violent lurch and a snapping of timbers, the floor shifts beneath us, and the whole barn lifts up, borne on the howling, whirling wind.
“Stop it!” Alice screams, but I can’t—I’m only a channel. I open my mouth to explain, but something heavy thunks against the side of my skull, and I slump to the floor, my words slipping away as I drop into the dark.
4
A chunk of broken wood hits Dorothy on the head, and she slumps over, unconscious. Just my luck. Now she can’t undo whatever she has done.
My fingers won’t unclamp from the Tama Olc, which terrifies me nearly as much as the fact that the barn is fuckingflyingand I am inside it. The unfastened door is flapping, banging, but I can’t see anything outside except a streaming gray blur. The little dog, Fiero, huddles against Dorothy’s prone body. She’s still gripping the Tama Olc, too.
With my free hand, I reach toward Fiero. “Everything will be all right.” My voice cracks, but Fiero seems to appreciate the effort and settles under my palm while I scratch his ears.
The barn jolts horrifically, sending the little knot of us skidding across the floor toward the loose barn door. I brace my heels against the doorframe just in time to keep us all from sliding out.
Another lurch sends us back across the floor the opposite way. The lantern drops from its hook, smashing into a pile of straw, which thankfully is too damp to burn, so the flame gutters and dies.
Then the barn begins to spin, round and round, faster and faster. Oh gods, I’m going to be sick. I clamp my eyes shut.
“I can get through this,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “I’ve had my heart ripped out of my chest by a mad Fae Queen—I will survive this, too. Iwill.”
After a few nauseating minutes, the house stops spinning, but it keeps rising. I don’t know how high we’ve gone, prey to the circling currents of the storm—but it’s high enough that when the house drops suddenly, I scream.
We’re plummeting down, hurtling to unknown depths. My stomach is thrilling horribly, and I feel as though I left half my insides up in the sky somewhere—oh gods, we’re going to smash into splinters when we hit the bottom—
A terrifying jerk, and our descent halts for a second before continuing. I scream as the barn races down, down, down—halts again—thensmashesinto solid earth.
My fingers come unglued from the Tama Olc, and the book drops to the floor. I lunge away and vomit into the straw, heaving up the scanty remains of my lunch.
“Shit,” I sob. My whole body is shaking, but I’m alive. I’m alive.
“Dorothy?” I crawl toward her. She’s still unconscious, blood seeping through her dark-brown hair. A rivulet of gleaming scarlet runs over her temple, down to her cheekbone. But she’s breathing.
She has released the Tama Olc as well, so I pick it up and tuck it into the pocket of her blue gingham dress. I’m still wearing my blue maid’s outfit and my white apron—both dreadfully smudged now.
The unlatched door of the barn has swung shut. I can’t see outside except through a few cracks between the boards, but a glow leaks in—bright yellow sunshine, the kind I haven’t seen in days.
By its light I notice something more disconcerting than the flying barn. Dorothy’s work-worn leather shoes are melting away. Her stockings vanish next, leaving her legs bare—and then new shoes appear, encasing her feet. The shoes are heeled slippers that glisten silver as starlight, and they’re dotted with tiny rubies, as red as drops of Dorothy’s blood.
That’s magic. And it wasn’t performed by Dorothy herself, which means we’ve landed in a place where magic is as organic and natural as breathing.
“Fiero,” I whisper. “I don’t think we’re in the human realm anymore.”
Rising on trembling legs, holding onto the barn wall for support, I hobble to the door and push it open.
Sunlight streams in, so bright I have to close my eyes for a few seconds.
But I’m desperate to know where we are, so I force my lashes apart, just a crack.
