Everyone made sure to keep to the pace that Patrick and Keith ran at, unwilling to leave their human members behind. Patrick raised another shield around them just in time to save the group from getting pinned beneath messy, sticky spiderwebs that clung to the shield.
“Shit,” Patrick said, making a sharp motion with his hand.
The shield cracked open down the center and peeled apart, taking the spiderwebs with it. A second layer had already been erected, and Jono watched as Patrick shrank it down as much as he could to make them a smaller target. It wasn’t a smooth transition—defense wasn’t Patrick’s strong suit—but it held.
They followed Gerard off the path and into the cluster of barren trees and winter shrubs that lined the Lake where they were at. The Sluagh shrieked above them, the sound of their wailing close in a way that made the hair stand up on the back of Jono’s neck.
“What the fuck isthat?” Wade exclaimed.
Jono looked ahead as they dodged around trees. Bright lights sparkled in the air ahead, and the trees around them started to fill with mist. Strange plants started to push through snow, forming a path.
“Almost there,” Gerard yelled.
The Sluagh screamed their displeasure and broke through the branches, sending clumps of snow falling all around them. The sky above was blotted out by bodies and spirits, Patrick’s shield flickering from the weight of the Sluagh.
Patrick flicked his fingers at his remaining mageglobe, the sphere pulsing with magic. “Gerard, we need to—”
Whatever Patrick was going to say, he never got the chance to form the words.
The ground heaved beneath their feet as tree roots shot up from the frozen dirt. One wrapped itself around Jono’s ankle and yanked him to the ground. Jono went down hard, managing not to impale himself on a root out of sheer luck. He turned his head in time to see Patrick get tossed into a tree and pinned there by a spider fae that could’ve been the twin from the one in the bar.
The shield above them splintered and disintegrated, and Jono’s heart beat hard in his chest.
“Patrick!” Jono yelled.
He knew Patrick wasn’t all that great with defensive wards, but the shield had buckled quicker than Jono was used to it happening.
“I got him!” Wade yelled, sounding frantic.
The ground heaved again, and Jono reared back, slamming his elbow into the face of a spider fae who’d dropped down out of the sky half on top of him. Bone crunched under his elbow, and Jono twisted around on the ground to slam his boot into the fae’s arachnid belly. The skin there was soft, not remotely protected, and the force of his kick put his leg up to midcalf into the fae’s body.
Brackish blood poured out of the fae’s human mouth, staining Jono’s shirt and jacket. He wrenched his foot free and grabbed the fae by its throat, tossing it aside. Jono got to his feet, claws curving away from his fingers. He kept his balance against the roiling ground below while the Sluagh screamed around them.
The mist got thicker, the barren trees around them fading into older ones that carried strangely colored leaves on their branches instead of snow. A flurry of color swirled around them on a burst of wind that smelled of spring, some sticking to the blood on Jono’s hands—petals, not snow.
He couldn’t see Patrick.
“Get down!” Gerard bellowed.
Jono obeyed instantly, because that tone of voice was the same sort Patrick used whenever they were in a fight and he was about to make something explode.
A storm of arrows cut through the air where he’d just been standing, slicing into what remained of the Sluagh. The screams this time were like a death knell, piercing the air loud enough to send birds flying into the sky, calling out a warning as they did so. Jono gritted his teeth against the sound, still frantically trying to get eyes on Patrick.
The Sluagh faded away into a darker mist that was overtaken by the one surrounding them. The trees solidified around them, leaves a deep teal green, with magenta-colored blossoms. The hawthorn trees interspersed between others were the same size and shape as on the mortal plane, but their coloring was eerie and unreal beyond the veil. The strange mist drifted around white-barked trunks, obscuring the deeper parts of the forest. Jono scrambled to his feet and opened his mouth—
And hunched over as somethingsnappedin his chest.
He would’ve fallen to his knees if Sage hadn’t gotten her shoulder underneath him and kept him upright, grip tight with worry.
“Jono, what’s wrong?” she asked.
He sucked in a breath that tasted like flowers he’d never smelled before, the soulbond burning in his soul. All Jono wanted to do was chase after Patrick, but he couldn’t get his bearings. He couldn’t tell if Patrick was alive or dead, and that scared him more than he was willing to admit, so used to being able to feel where Patrick was through the soulbond. But here past the veil, whatever magic lived in this place was interfering in a way Jono didn’t care for.
Jono steeled himself against the ache, not wanting to worry Sage any more than he already had, but it was difficult to do with the way his heart pounded in his chest.
“Patrick’s gone,” Jono said, the words like acid on his tongue.
“Shit.”
