I don’t know whether to trust it. I want to be with Linton more than anything.
“Quickly,” it exhorts, and as I peer into the darkness, I make out the great form of Reavely.
Linton did manage to get a message to him, as well as surviving what I thought was a mortal injury. It would appear it takes more than an arrow to the chest to kill my mothman.
I roll to my feet and run as fast as I can, out of the circle where a hand reaches out and drags me behind one of the stones. Warden gazes down at me in the dark.
“She can get out.”
“And Linton could get in,” Reavely replies.
“Aren’t you two going to go in to help him?” I exhort.
“I think he’s doing pretty well by himself,” Warden says.
I look out from behind my stone.
Lit by both the flickering torches and the horrible blue glow emanating from the altar, Tam Lin roars, his form now nearly the height of a two-storey building and even more terrible and twisted than before. His skin is mottled like mould, his face is no longer a face but something straight out of an eldritch horror. Linton is nowhere to be seen.
Until he is there, roaring out into the darkness, dodging the shadow creatures and slashing at Tam Lin’s form with a dagger in each hand. As he does, black liquid courses from him in disgusting fountains, most of it getting on Linton, who doesn’t cease his attack.
Tam Lin swipes out at him, but Linton is too quick, yet more slashes appearing on the skin, or whatever it now is of the once Faerie.
“How do we stop this?” I turn back to Warden and Reavely.
“I don’t think Linton wants to stop.” Reavely picks at his teeth. “I think he’s enjoying himself.”
Another roar from Tam Lin rends the air.
Linton has managed to cut off his hand. The vast appendage falls to the ground, and I feel the vibration as it hits the ground.
“The altar, I mean,” I respond as Linton continues his attack on the Faerie, which he seems to be winning.
“Oh, the portal to the underrealm.” Reavely looks at the glowing thing which is getting brighter and spitting out more and more shadow creatures. “It looks like Tam Lin isn’t going to be paying his tithe today or any day. I think you’re going to have to close it.”
“Me?”
“You opened it.”
“I did not. Tam Lin did.”
Warden leans over to me.
“Your soul is pure. Only a pure soul can open the portal when the altar is in place, and only a pure soul can close it. You are the jewel, Kaitlyn.”
“My soulisn’tpure,” I retort, stamping my foot and wishing this dress wasn’t so see through. “I have bad thoughts all the time.”
“Only a creature with the purest of souls could attract a Bluecap,” Reavely says. “And tame him.” He cocks his head onone side, looking as dog-like as his name would suggest. “I know souls.”
“But how?” I query as the altar emits a grinding sound.
“Same way you opened it,” Warden says. “With your presence.”
A large chunk of Tam Lin lands nearby.
“Go,” Reavely says. “We’ll be right behind you.”
“Oh, you’re going to help Linton now, are you?”
