It is all coming together, and I think I might actually have the beginnings of a plan.
This is nothing short of a miracle.
Chapter twenty-five
My palms are sweaty. Why do they do that when I get nervous? I know I’m not the only person it happens to, so what is the evolutionary advantage? How can having a slippery grip help in times of high stress? Surely it is a disaster? If I was trying to hold a spear right now, it would slide right out of my hand. How did my ancestors survive? It doesn’t make any sense.
I take a deep breath. And then another. I really need to get a grip. Thinking about spears and sweat really isn’t going to help right now. I need to focus.
I’m in a large communal shower area. A sea of white tiles. It’s empty. No sounds save for the occasional drip.
Any minute now, Mabon is going to be brought in and left with me.
Booted footsteps sound out from the hallway. My spine stiffens and my heart starts beating at a thousand beats a minute. The boots stop. I suck in a breath.
Mabon walks around the corner, into the shower area. He sees me and freezes.
He is still wearing that nasty hospital gown. His lovely legs are bare, as are his feet, and I hate how vulnerable it makes him look. His purple hair is still up in the shitty, messy plait I did for him. And that sends a tingle of relief buzzing through me. I’m so glad they didn’t confiscate the shoelace.
Mabon slowly crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes look dull and there are dark circles under them. He looks tired. Worn. But his expression is carefully blank.
This is not the needy, broken Mabon who clung to me out of desperation. This Mabon has pulled himself together. Even if it is only by the thinnest thread.
Despite everything, and even under these harsh fluorescent lights, he is still painfully beautiful. Enough to take my breath away and make my chest feel tight.
He moves his hands to his hips. I blink.
“They took your cuffs off,” I say.
They’ve also taken all of his pretty bracelets, and his slender wrists look naked without them. But there is no time to think about that now.
“You can do magic!” I exclaim as hope bubbles through my chest.
He snorts derisively. “Not in this place. It is too heavily warded.”
I swallow tightly. I should have known that it was too good to be true. Back to my original, terrible plan it is.
I hold out my hand. “We have to run.”
Mabon’s eyes narrow. “You can’t trick me again.”
My heart drops. I feel it. It lands somewhere by my toes, I swear. I always thought it was a strange expression, but now I am experiencing it and it is the only possible way to describe what I am feeling.
I stare at him helplessly. I betrayed him. Horrible things have happened to him here because of me. He hates me, and rightlyso. He is never going to trust me again, and rightly so. If I had all the time in the world, I probably still could not convince him. And we definitely have a lot less time than that.
I run forward, grab him, and swing him over my shoulders. He lets out a squeak but doesn’t fight me. I turn and run. Through the maintenance door at the back of the shower room. Down the narrow service corridor, out into the main hallway. Up to the exit.
My lungs are working hard. But my leg muscles are holding up. Mabon is bouncing on my shoulders. It feels as if he weighs nothing, but that has to be the adrenaline. Whatever gets me through is fine by me.
I manage to balance him with one hand while I swipe my key card on the reader by the exit. The door beeps open. Then I run. Really run. Faster and further than I have ever run before. I run as if my life depends on it because it probably does. I’m not even aware of my surroundings. I’m just running.
“Put me down, you oaf! Let me help!”
I don’t think that’s the first time he has said that.
I blink sweat out of my eyes. We are in some woods. It’s afternoon, judging by the light. I can hear the sounds of pursuit crashing through the woods behind us. Far too close for comfort, but not right on us. Yet.
Wheezing, I put Mabon down. He grabs my hand and pulls me in a different direction from where I had been heading. Not that I had a destination in mind. Far away was the only objective.
