Chapter Thirteen

 

 

Deirdre looked down at the bag of crystals in her hands. She had asked for James to give it to her, claiming she wanted to inspect it, shortly after Iain left. James had handed it over rather reluctantly.

And since then she’d alternated between staring at the crystals and squinting at the spaces between the trees, her heart pounding as she waited for Iain to reappear. And the longer he took, the more she suspected that he was lying earlier and that he’d return not with Alvey but with soldiers to capture her.

Or shoot you on sight, fear suggested in her head.

She shuddered, closing the bag and standing up. “He’s taking too long. I don’t like this!”

James looked up at her from where he was seated, finishing the lunch Iain cooked. “He… he said to wait here.”

“We shouldn’t just be waiting! Who knows if he’s even coming back?” She hesitated when she saw James’s eyes widen, nervous, but pressed, “I mean, I know what he said, but if he was just going to find Alvey, he wouldn’t take this long! Something’s gone wrong.”

Hurrying to his feet, James asked, “Do you think he’s been captured or something?”

“Why would they capture him? He’s one of them!”

“But he ceased contact with them, and that’s considered desertion sometimes.” James didn’t meet her eyes.

“Well, either way, if Alvey’s been captured, we have to get her out of there and leave!”

After a moment, James nodded in agreement. “All right. Let’s go find them.”

They followed Iain’s path into the woods and had not gone far before James hissed at Deirdre to stop, pointing up at the patch of sky through the crown of branches above them. She followed his gaze and saw a plume of smoke.

“The military must be over there,” James said. “They’ll have guards patrolling the perimeter of their camp… We’ll get caught if we’re not careful.”

Frowning, Deirdre looked up at the trees. It was still September, but the leaves had begun to color and some were even already falling, making it a bit easier to see through the foliage but without being easily spotted.

“Can we get a bit closer, then look from the trees?” she asked, pointing up.

“Um, yeah. I think so. Let’s leave our packs here if we’re going to climb.”

“Good idea.” She slipped hers off, covering it with leaves. James did the same, slipping out a pair of binoculars from his pack.

“I didn’t know you had that!” Deirdre commented, smiling. “Another good idea.”

He mumbled something, not unhappily, then cleared his throat and said, “Let’s go slowly. Keep an eye out for anything strange.”

“Right.”

 

Deirdre spotted the first sign of military activity: a bit of rubbish, along what looked like a deer trail. They could hear the voices coming from the military camp, though it was just a dim racket of sound.

“This must be their patrol path,” James said, gulping, looking around.

Nodding, Deirdre quickly selected a good climbing tree from the large oaks around them. “Okay, up you go!” She held out her hand to boost James up toward the lowest branch.

He just stared at her, not recognizing the signal.

“Put your foot here, and I’ll push you up!” she urged, jerking her head up toward the branch. When he still hesitated, she smiled. “C’mon! I’m sure you’ve climbed loads of trees before.”

He didn’t answer either way, but he complied, though it took him a couple of tries to decide which leg to use. But once he was boosted up, he scurried up to the limb with surprisingly alacrity; once he got on top of it, he clung onto it like a startled cat, frozen.

“Keep moving!” she urged, looking around; she could faintly hear the sound of someone walking on fallen leaves, growing closer to them.

They climbed up carefully, James taking his time. Deirdre didn’t mind his slow pace as much as his tendency to mumble all the terrible things that might happen if he fell or wonder aloud how one might tell if a tree was home to a dryad, a tree spirit, and if it would be considered impolite to climb one. But he had the wits to shut up when the patrol, two armed soldiers, walked beneath them. They didn’t look up; Deirdre knew from all her time hiding and playing in the woods that people rarely looked up.

A few minutes later, they had a decent view of the camp, which was smaller than what Deirdre would have imagined. There were no tanks like she’d conjured up in her fears; instead, there were white tents, armored and covered trucks, and strange, heavy machinery that looked quite out of place. Almost right in the middle was a lean-to surrounded by crates. While elsewhere the soldiers—who were also fewer than Deirdre had feared—bustled about in constant activity, several were beginning to take the tents down or clean and ready weapons while a few just stood guard around the lean-to.

Something important must be there.

Only a few steps from the camp, separated by just one thin line of trees, was another clearing with a short but jagged cliff face on the far side. There was a steep incline, but its bottom was impossible to see; it went down too far.

Could that be the entrance to the cave? She tilted her head back, looking at the area as a whole. Like any area with caves, there were uneven but rolling swells and dips, indicating that there were hollow caverns beneath not only the area around the cliff but also the entire campsite. They were right above the Forest Caves.

Before Deirdre could mention any of this to James, he pointed at the heavy machinery and whispered, “That’s all for mining!”

“Mining?”

“Right. And see the crates on the other side of them?”

“By the lean-to?”

“No, by the machines.” James impatiently jabbed his finger. “I bet they keep dynamite or something in there for clearing or bringing down a cave!”

Deirdre tilted her head. “What’s your point?”

“They’re using all that for the cave—that’s why they’re at the Forest Cave. There must be something valuable in there!” He paused, thinking. “I wonder if that’s what Alvey’s looking for too?”

“I don’t know. Can you see Iain?”

James responded by pulling his small binoculars out of his pocket and looking in the camp. After he looked for a few minutes, Deirdre suggested, “Check over at the lean-to.”

After just a moment, he responded, “Yes, I think— There he is! And Alvey’s there too.”

“Good. Are they coming out?”

James hesitated and then shook his head. “No. I, um, think they’re both prisoner. I see…” He sighed with a hint of exasperation. “There’s a soldier there, Boyd Prance. And it looks like the other soldiers are listening to him. I bet he’s giving them both a hard time.” He lowered the telescope, adding with a shake of the head, “He’s a total idiot though.”

Deirdre gnawed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Is there any way Iain can get himself and Alvey out of there?”

“I don’t think so. Iain’s never, um, been a good planner.”

Especially if he’s been eating that faery fruit, Deirdre thought bitterly.

“It’s up to us to get him out,” James said, meeting her gaze.

“But how?” She gestured helplessly toward the campsite. “There’s no way to get in there and back out without being seen!”

“Maybe… if there was a distraction…” James’s eyes lit up, and he looked back through the telescope at the campsite for a long minute, eventually saying, “There is a way to do it. Deirdre…” He looked at her again, grinning as if he had been waiting to say this his entire life: “I have a plan to rescue them.”

 

After James had looked at the campsite again, saying he was “taking notes,” they waited for the patrol to pass once more and then hurried back to where their backpacks were. There, James cleared a spot of dirt and began to use a stick to draw in the soft ground a detailed map of the military campsite. Deirdre watched him, not seeing anything that contradicted what she’d observed.

“So, we’re going to distract them,” James said, his voice sounding excited as though he was planning a picnic. “We’ve got Alvey’s orange crystals, and then there’s the dynamite, and then I remember reading how to turn on those trucks and kinda make them short out.”

“Okay,” Deirdre said, unsure where he was going with this.

“So.” He jabbed the stick at the largest tent on the north edge of the campsite. “The commanders are probably going to be here… We’ll want the soldiers to think they’re under attack, right? That way, everyone will go racing over there.”

“How?” she asked.

“So, um, you’re fast, so you’ll throw some of Alvey’s crystals at the tent.”

“What? James, I’m not going to blow people up!”

“You won’t! If you throw the crystals around the tent, you won’t actually blow people up! You’ll make it all smoky and dusty and stuff so they can’t see you. Then you’ll run.”

She rocked back and forth, frowning at the dirt map. “But what if they shoot at me?”

“Smoke, remember? They won’t even see you! Just stay low.”

“But… but where am I even running to?”

“I’ll get to that. Once you throw the first crystals, I’ll be over here”—he pointed toward the west line of trucks nearest the mining equipment and dynamite (marked with a large TNT)—“and I’ll trigger these trucks so a few start driving off on their own.”

“You can really do that?”

“Yeah!”

“James.” She met his gaze and held it. “You’ve done this before?”

“I… yeah. Yeah, I have! Just trust me!”

Deirdre leaned back, letting out a slow exhale. “But what good will starting the trucks do? And how will you not get caught?”

He groaned in frustration at her question, rolling his eyes. “Look, when you let off the crystals, everyone will turn to the north of the campsite. Right?”

“I guess…”

“So I’ll sneak through and get inside the first truck. I can always hide under them if I need to.”

“Okay…”

“I’ll get inside one or two and make them start driving away on their own. At least one will drive right into the mining equipment, setting this box of TNT off! Another distraction.”

“But what about—”

“And during that,” James went on loudly, “I’ll get into another truck and drive straight into the campsite, right toward Iain and Alvey.”

Deirdre gasped. “What if someone shoots at you?”

“Deirdre, there will be at least one or two other trucks driving around on their own! Why would they think there’d be someone inside the one I’m driving? Don’t worry; I’ll duck so they can’t see me. Plus those trucks are so high they won’t be able to see inside easily.”

“I…” She hesitated, remembering what she saw at the campsite. The trucks really were quite large. “I guess so.”

“So then I’ll drive right over to Iain and Alvey, and that’s where you’ll be waiting.”

“And we’ll all drive off together?”

“Right!”

“But how do you know there won’t be a bunch of soldiers by Iain and Alvey?”

James nodded in a patient way. “See, Iain didn’t seemed to be restrained when I saw him, so once the explosions start going off, he should be able to get a gun and maybe take out a couple of guards and clear the area.”

Deirdre gaped at him. “You… you think so?”

“Deirdre, he’s been trained for this kind of thing… sort of.”

Scratching the back of her head uncertainly, she looked down at the map again; her vision of it seemed to blur. “I just don’t know, James. I mean, what if we’re shot at while we’re running away?”

“They are military trucks; they can handle a few bullets. Plus we’ll have Alvey’s crystals; you can use them to get into the campsite if anyone isn’t distracted, and we can throw them out the truck as we’re driving away!”

“But…” She frowned and snapped her gaze to him. “How will you even start those trucks? You don’t have a key!”

He rolled his eyes again. “Deirdre, military trucks don’t have keys. You just start them!”

“Really?”

“Really!”

He then began to ramble on, talking about other details about the trucks, the campsite, the soldiers, and so on, sharing so much information it made Deirdre’s already confused head hurt.

He really does seem to know what he’s talking about. And I guess he does come from a military family. And he’s never led me wrong before; we snuck out of the city, too, thanks to his planning. And made it through the old tunnels in London. And these crystals do really pack a punch… also—she sighed, rubbing her temples—I just can’t think of any alternatives.

“Maybe we should wait until nightfall?” she suggested a bit weakly.

“No, see, their guard will probably be up at night. Faeries come out more at night, or so they say.”

“What about our backpacks?”

“We’ll wear them; who knows if we’ll be able to come back and get them?”

Deirdre nodded, letting out a long, slow, steadying exhale, then meeting his gaze. “All right, James. Let’s give it a shot.”

He beamed widely.

“But back out immediately if things start going even a bit wrong!”

“Of course! And it won’t. This plan is perfect.”

* * *

 

You’ve got this.

You can do this.

James crouched in the woods just outside the encampment, watching as the guards made their rounds. Soon they would leave the area with the military vehicles and head toward the center, and that was when he would sneak over there. He glanced over the trucks quickly, peering around a tree to get a better look; they were too far away to know for certain what he was dealing with.

Deirdre would hopefully never know that he’d lied to her.

Well, it wasn’t really a lie, was it? I mean, I learned from that kid at school, and he’d done it loads of times! So it’s almost like I’ve done it too…

The older boy in his class clearly knew what he was talking about when he told James step-by-step how to make a car accelerate on its own without putting one’s foot on the pedal. James recalled the boy had later gotten expelled and was probably still in prison for tampering with cars and armed robbery. So that meant he must have been good at it—until he got caught, at least.

As he waited, James mapped out visually in his mind every step he would take. First he would sneak around the west side to the military trucks, climb inside, and place something heavy on the accelerator. Then he’d open the hood and jam the throttle valve, get back in the truck, start the engine, and get out of there before sending the truck crashing at full speed into the equipment.

Then he would rescue Alvey and Iain, and neither of them would have any reason to fuss at him ever again. He could see it all clearly in his mind—but in his mind, he wasn’t sweating like a hog.

He wiped his hands angrily on the thighs of his trousers, his palms drenched. As he shifted his pack on his shoulders, his muscles aching from carrying his stuff as well as Iain’s, he noticed that his back was soaked as well.

“Come on…,” James whispered, his breathing shallow as the soldiers made their rounds his way. He’d have to move quickly once he heard Deirdre’s crystals start going off. He prayed for baxt, luck and good fortune.

Pop, Pop, Pop!

James looked to his left, his heart racing, as he heard the crackling, booming sound of the crystals hitting their mark and exploding like firecrackers. Then he heard men shouting, and he saw the soldiers run from the area toward the smoke that was now swirling in the air, their weapons raised.

James leaped to his feet, rabid with excitement and beaming like mad. He pumped his fist in the air.

She did it!

Then, without wasting another second, he raced off toward the military trucks, the heavy pack on his back barely slowing him down, adrenaline taking over. He darted through trees, skidding in the fallen leaves, and then as he approached, he slowed his pace and focused on sneaking quietly up to the side of the supplies.

The moment James neared the military vehicles that were parked in a row on the dirt, he realized he would have an issue that he hadn’t considered. Opening the engine to get to the throttle would not be much of a problem, but it might take too long—also, even reaching the hood to pry it open would be a problem. The trucks were higher off the ground than he’d anticipated.

James instantly tried to climb on one of the large tires and hoist himself up onto the hood, but he knew he would be spotted and he was running out of time. Deirdre’s distraction would only last so long.

I’m not standing on a box, that’s for sure!

Jumping down quickly, James took a moment to think things through. He shuffled around anxiously, gritting his teeth and hitting his palms against his forehead, willing a backup plan to come to him.

“Okay. All right. I’ll just press down the accelerator with something heavy and just jump out before it crashes!”

He ducked down around the back of the truck to get to the driver’s seat. When he pulled on the door handle, it wouldn’t budge. For one sinking moment he thought he might’ve accidentally left Deirdre with no backup. Then he realized the door was unlocked; he just wasn’t pulling hard enough.

“Budge, damn you!” James yanked on the handle, his face flaming, and placed his feet on the step and pulled back with all his weight. It finally swung open, and James crawled inside, leaving the door ajar.

The control panel floored him for a moment as he stared wide-eyed at all the different levers and buttons on the dash. He quickly opened his pack, looking for something to hold the pedal down with—

If I use Iain’s skillet, he’ll murder me.

Just then he heard yelling in the distance. His head snapped up, and he squinted out the windshield—there were soldiers pointing in his direction. He had to act quickly.

“Oi!” one of them shouted. “There’s someone in the—”

James froze.

He needed a new, new plan. Taking a deep breath, James pushed the ignition, and the vehicle roared to life. Biting his lip, he reached over and switched the gears, hoping to God that he remembered what little he had learned from Iain telling him about his driving lessons.

“Come on!” James growled. He moved his foot toward the gas pedal, frantically searching for it somewhere below him. “Oh—you’ve got to be joking!”

Swearing more and feeling better for it, James slid down in his seat until he could finally reach the pedal, nearly lying down and barely able see out the windshield. Then, bracing himself and screwing his eyes shut, he pressed down on the pedal as hard as he could, jerking the truck forward.

On the driver’s side, the cave formation rocketed past his open door in a blur. The vehicle jostled him about, and he grabbed the steering wheel, speeding blindly toward where he thought the equipment was. James let out a yelp as the front of the car struck something and it went flying over the nose of the car in splinters, striking the roof and bouncing off.

“Get out of there!” a voice shouted. “Stop the truck or we’ll shoot!”

James steeled himself, not letting off the accelerator.

Then he heard gunfire, and bullets pelted the front of the vehicle. James yelped, trying to slow his speed steadily but ending up slamming his foot on the brake, causing him to fly up nearly out of his seat, his chest slamming against the steering wheel.

Groaning, James tried to right himself. Smoke was starting to billow up from the engine. James covered his mouth and nose with his scarf, crawling clumsily toward the open door, the smell of burning and electric fire making him cough.

“Get out of the vehicle! Put your hands on your head!” A soldier came up to the door, his gun raised and trained on James.

For one moment James thought he ought to try to fight, to kick out and knock the gun from the soldier’s hand—then he heard someone bellowing. The voice was familiar but the sound of it so desperate it made James’s stomach twist in knots.

“That’s my brother!” Iain was shouting, his voice raw. “Don’t shoot! He’s my brother!”

James shakily lifted his hands to his head—just as he did, the soldier with the gun was shoved out of the way. James expected to see his brother, but instead he saw Boyd glaring at him.

“Put your hands behind your back and climb out!” Boyd ordered.

James scoffed at him. “He just said to put my hands on my head. Which is it?”

Before he could even react, James was on the ground, the sky above him, his head spinning and aching so badly he thought he might vomit. Gasping for breath, James tried to roll over. Boyd had him by his ankle, having yanked him from the truck.

Then he was on his belly, and his arms were being pinned behind his back. When James tried to sit up, what he assumed was Boyd’s boot came down against the back of his head, slamming his face into the ground.

He choked out a sob, unable to hold it back. He tasted dirt, and blood spurted out his nose and filled his mouth—more blood than he thought possible. James spat out as much as he could, letting out a furious snarl, anger blotting out the pain.

Boyd laughed. “Easy there, runt.” He hauled James to his feet, grabbing ahold of his arm, and began dragging him along.

“We’ve got another one over here!” a soldier called from across the encampment.

Oh no. Deirdre!

Just ahead, across the encampment, James could see the orange of Deirdre’s ginger hair in the distance—she was being held between two soldiers. He searched for his brother, hoping to see him fighting against the soldiers, but he, too, was caught, his hands on his head.

Boyd actually smiled, the look in his eyes almost greedy as he spotted Deirdre. Boyd said to the two other soldiers present, “They’re all together in this. That’s Callaghan’s missing faery prisoner, wanted for the king’s assassination.”

When Boyd gave him a nudge, James began to walk forward, his gaze focused on the others by the lean-to. As he neared, he jolted at the appearance of his friends. Deirdre was wide-eyed and trembling. He had never seen his brother look so pale.

When Iain saw the blood caked on his face, James wondered how Boyd didn’t drop dead from the look his brother shot at him. He hoped that Boyd would get what was clearly coming to him. James certainly wouldn’t get in Iain’s way.

Boyd shoved him toward the lean-to where Alvey was sitting.

“Commander Walker,” Boyd said, jabbing his finger at Deirdre, “this is the wanted faery. Warden Callaghan is a deserter and a traitor. He was hiding her this whole time. You saw how he ran to her aid when she barged in here exploding things with her magic, and to the other half faery!”

Iain held up his hands in a placating gesture, looking to Commander Walker. “Commander Walker, it’s true I was hiding her, but I had a good reason—”

“He admits it.” Boyd pointed at him accusatorily.

Commander Walker was purple with rage, his eyes fixed on Iain. “You will explain yourself in military court once we escort you back to Neo-London for trial—after this operation is complete.”

“I’m taking them now—” Boyd began.

“I need your battalion to back us up.”

Boyd’s hand went to his belt. Iain leaned over and whispered something behind him toward Alvey. Though she was a little far away, with her keen ears, she would no doubt hear whatever it was he said. Then Iain nodded to James. When he tried to meet Deirdre’s gaze, however, she did not look up.

Something’s about to go down…

Boyd pulled his gun from his holster and leveled it at Commander Walker.

“Change of plans, gents,” Boyd announced. “Looks like we’ll have to speed this along a lot quicker than intended. You follow my orders now. The faery comes with me.”

A silence fell over the camp. Most of the soldiers turned to the commander in confusion while others merely nodded or just stood still with blank expressions. The soldiers holding on to Deirdre let her go, their hands going for their firearms around their shoulders.

Quick as a flash, Iain went into the lean-to and wheeled Alvey out. Even Alvey had nothing to say—which James thought meant there was really something wrong and that Boyd was not just bluffing or about to back down.

He’s insane.

Commander Walker, red-faced, turned to face Boyd. “I’ve warned you, Prance, and now I’m going to have to take action. If you attempt to undermine my authority again, I’ll have you discharged with dishonor. Now lower your weapon.”

Boyd did not comply.

There was a general murmur of confusion and a few shouts as some of the soldiers turned their weapons on their fellow infantrymen. One of the soldiers attempted to disarm the other but ended up taking the butt of the gun to his face, knocking him out cold. A few of them raised their hands in surrender.

Commander Walker narrowed his eyes on Boyd as he brought his gun up to his eye level.

“That’s fine,” Boyd said flatly. “But see, I don’t take orders from you, Commander.”

“Get down!” Iain shouted, just as gunfire exploded and echoed around them.

Deirdre let out a shriek, darting to where Iain and Alvey were in the lean-to and flattening herself down on the ground. Iain quickly shielded Alvey with his body. James could only stare, frozen in place, his body unwilling to move.

Screams and orders from the soldiers and Commander Walker rang out, swallowed up by the sound of bullets striking and ricocheting off rock formations behind them.

Finally James ducked down, covering his head and breathing hard.

Hard, frantic footfalls echoed with the gunfire. James looked up cautiously to see the infantrymen scatter, some finding shelter behind the military trucks or the woods beyond. Others lay on the ground, unmoving. Dust flew up from the ground as bullets pelleted where infantrymen had stood moments ago. In the chaos, only one man was visible still standing: Boyd.

“Get moving!” Iain croaked to his left, grabbing James by his jacket and pulling him to stand. “Get to the cave!”

Iain was pushing Alvey’s chair, and Deirdre was following close behind. He led them to the side of the slope—it was a straight shot down to the cave entrance, but it was incredibly steep.

Boyd was slowly backing down the slope, his back to the cavern and his gun facing forward. When he saw Iain and James, however, he stopped his backward decent and strode in their direction, his gaze fixed on them.

“Deirdre,” Iain said, “help me get Alvey’s chair down the slope—”

“Got it!” Deirdre started down the hill backward, making the slow descent, her boots sliding against the rock but holding strong.

Iain grabbed the handles of Alvey’s chair, slowing the momentum so Deirdre wouldn’t fall and the chair wouldn’t crash down the hill. He twisted around to James, snapping, “Get moving down the hill!”

James peered over the ledge uncertainly. Then, as he lowered himself slowly onto the ground so he was sitting on the ledge, his head spun. “The… the ground’s too unstable,” James stammered.

Iain, Deirdre, and Alvey were nearly at the bottom now, waiting a little ways from the cavern entrance, looking up at him. James braced himself and started down—

Deirdre let out a shriek, her eyes wide. If she was trying to warn him, she never got the words out.

Commander Walker came around the corner of the cavern, having gone down from another point, his weapon raised. However, he was not pointing it at any of them but rather up the slope.

“Iain—!” James’s words were cut off as he was grabbed roughly from behind; Boyd’s arm going taut against his throat and nearly cutting off his air.

James struggled and swung his elbow back and nailed Boyd in the face, right where his bruise was. The impact was satisfying, and James wanted to thank whomever it was who had dealt him such a blow in the first place. Boyd loosened his hold only for a moment before gripping him tighter than before, growling in his ear. Spots danced in his vision as he gasped for breath.

Boyd pulled James up so that only the toes of his trainers still touched the ground. James scrabbled at his hands. “I’ve got a yappy dog,” Boyd called out. “We’re coming down, so don’t shoot unless you want to hear ’im yelp.”

Iain turned to Commander Walker desperately. “Do as he says, Commander.”

Commander Walker lowered his weapon slightly, his face pale and perspiring. James noticed that he had one hand clamped over a bullet wound on his shoulder that was bleeding through his jacket. James gaped, feeling a bit sick, having never seen a fresh bullet wound before.

A tremor shook the ground, and Commander Walker toppled over onto his knees. Iain would have fallen as well had he not grabbed ahold of Alvey’s chair.

James was dropped instantly as Boyd struggled to keep his balance, and James made his way toward the edge of the slope. He lowered himself down quickly, half sliding and half inching his way down the cliff and leaving Boyd behind. By the time James reached the bottom, his hands and elbows were scraped from the rough trip down, and the tremors had not stopped.

Large, loose shards of stone rolled down the hill.

Iain ran over to him instantly, pushing him toward the others and away from Boyd. Boyd was still at the top of the hill, having fallen on his rump from the tremors.

“What… what happened?” James asked, dazed.

No one spoke.

“That is interesting.” Alvey’s voice broke the silence, her tone curious. “I have never heard a faery act this way before while using magic.”

James and Iain tore their eyes away from Boyd’s slow descent down the slope and focused on Deirdre. She was kneeling on the ground still, shaking like a leaf, her breathing labored. However, her sharp blue eyes were fixed unblinkingly on Boyd.

Iain looked to Deirdre, eyes wide in awe. “That’s… amazing,” he said breathlessly.

It was amazing, James agreed. He’d just never thought his brother would think that as well.

“If she does not stop,” Alvey said, “it will probably result in a rockslide, or this entire area may collapse. I can feel the earth is the most weakened here.”

Iain sobered instantly, his grin fading. He glanced at Deirdre, looking lost and helpless to do anything. His hands twitched like he might reach for her—

Commander Walker picked himself up off the ground, walking around to stand in front of Deirdre. “Stop this at once,” he demanded. “That’s an order, faery.”

“I-I can’t—” Deirdre gasped, clasping her hands to her chest like she’d burned them. “I can’t stop—”

Alvey sighed like it was an inconvenience. “No one can stop magic from happening. Likely, she shall stop once she is finished—unless she is completely inept and does not know how to control it, which I have never heard of happening. Though she does seem rather dense.”

All at once, the tremors stopped. Deirdre looked up, breathless. “I did it…,” she said weakly. “I thought we were all going to be dragged down into the caves or something!”

There was a pause, a silence settling over them, before the entire structure under their feet cracked and began to crumble. They all fell into the darkness of the cavern that opened up beneath them.