Lullaby (The Fable Series, Book 2)

Chapter Eighteen

The silver circle. The ring in mom's jewelry box. Vampires. Angels. Pirates. Elves. Knights. Bea. The sea witch. Spells and songs.

Try as I might, I still can't quite piece together the mystery I've stepped into. Words, tunes, images and ideas swirl through my mind all the way back to the cabin, as I puzzle over the greater meaning – but I'm still as lost as ever.

From time to time a bird or a squirrel darts through the leafy labyrinth of branches overhead, scattering the early morning sunlight and bringing me to a standstill.

Even now, I feel like there's someone or something following me, just a few steps behind at all times. I turn around every few minutes to check, but all I see is green, and more green.

My parents were surprisingly relaxed about the shattered coffee table. I thought they were just trying not to make a scene in front of my friends, but they didn't even mention it after Zee and Grace drove off with Jamie (who was hiding her hangover behind a pair of dark glasses).

My mom and dad really wanted me to stay for the day, and spend some 'quality time' with them before going back to the boys. But that's not an option right now. For one, I've hardly done any recording with Fable the past few days. Making music is the whole reason they're here in the first place, the whole reason they got involved with me, and it's not cool that I keep on getting sidetracked. And secondly, I'm not actually sure that I want to spend time with my mom right now. I haven't forgiven her yet for throwing out gran's stuff – not that she's aware I know about it – and I'm not sure yet what the discovery of the silver serpent ring in her jewelry box means.

I could never imagine my gentle, scatterbrained mom trying to hurt me, or being a part of anything bad. But maybe there are things about herself that even she doesn't know.

Until I have more information, I'm going to keep my distance.

Not only from my parents, but from Fable and Kitty too. Not in the physical sense, of course, but emotionally. I'll focus on doing what I came here to do – making an album – and I'll avoid getting further entangled.

In theory, anyway.

*****

By the time I reach the cabin, a light breeze has picked up, tugging at my hair with cool, beckoning fingers as I make my way across the clearing. I'm a few feet from the steps when I notice that the sunlight is shimmering strangely on the cabin's oak shingle roof; the roses seem to shine and swirl from within like small crimson fireworks. All around me, the light seems to suddenly coalesce and condense, until all I see before me is bright, white brilliance, blinding luminosity. The smell of salt hits my nose; I hear waves crashing on distant rocks. Faraway, someone is singing.

A girl with a voice as clear as moonlight.

The breeze picks up, whipping me with lashes of icy sea wind.

A strong gust of air from behind me hits me in the back. I stumble forward blindly, propelled onto the front steps of the cabin.

A few seconds, or maybe minutes, pass by. I'm lying on the steps with my eyes closed, only half-awake, my head resting on my stinging, grazed elbow. I feel as if I'm falling further and further down into a dark pit. Fragments of last night's dream come back to me.

Felix standing before me. The sorrow etched on his face as he strikes the killing blow over and over again. Felix and I falling together into a dark grave.

Felix.

Like shards of light breaking through the forest gloom, the thrashing cloud of dreams and memories dissipates as I focus on the memory of Felix – the real-life, sardonic and cynical yet deeply passionate Felix that I've come to know these past few weeks.