Mabon takes us into a small clearing. There, in the middle, nestled amongst some long grass, is a ring of bright red toadstools. He tows me into it.
The world goes dark. It spins. Then it rights itself.
I blink and suck in air. We are still in the middle of a toadstool ring, in a clearing in the woods. But these are different woods.We are not where we were. There are no sounds of pursuit. Nothing but the silence of woods in winter.
“Where are we?” I ask.
Mabon looks up at the overcast sky. “Scotland.”
“Is that far from the bunker?”
He nods. “A few hundred miles.”
“Can they follow us?”
He shakes his head.
Oh my god. It worked. It actually worked. I got Mabon out of there. I can’t believe it. It is too much to take in. I’m functioning on shock and it is dulling my mind, as well as my emotions.
I stagger out of the ring of toadstools and sit down on the forest floor. My lungs are burning and my legs are trembling. That was some workout.
Mabon is staring at me.
“You’re free now,” I pant. “You can ping back to the palace.”
His delicate nose scrunches up. “No, I can’t.”
“Your magic is back, isn’t it?”
He nods.
My brows scrunch in confusion. “So, ping back to the palace.” I gesture vaguely at the toadstool.
Mabon’s eyes narrow. “My hair was unbound.”
I stare at him. Somewhere in the distance, a crow calls out. I’m floundering here. I don’t understand. Clearly, it is a cultural thing that I’m not grasping and probably never will. And I’m still reeling from the fact that we are both free and alive. It is a lot for my poor brain cells.
“No one will know about your hair?” I point out.
“I will know!” he snaps and his voice is ice. Cold and brittle. “I was defeated and shamed.”
My stomach rolls. I don’t want to say the words, but they are burning in my throat. “Did they…did they rape you?”
His brows furrow. “I do not know that word.”
I take a deep breath. “Did they force you to have sex with them?”
He blinks, blushes slightly, and shakes his head.
“Did you have sex with them?” I double check.
As much as I don’t like Mr Jones, his wording was very useful. And that’s with me being human. Who knows what Mabon’s interpretation of being forced is.
Mabon drops his gaze and shakes his head. It’s clear it was on his mind and he was aware of how easily it could have happened. He was a prisoner. His magic was bound. They subjected him to other things that he did not want.
I still feel sick. I should be more relieved than this. But Mabon is standing here in the woods looking defeated and implying that he can’t go home. I can’t have broken him out for nothing.
“So, what are you going to do?” I ask. I’m going to have to talk some sense into him. “Stay out here and never go home?”
