Lullaby (The Fable Series, Book 2)

Chapter Twenty Four

Although the storm is still raging above us, we're somewhat sheltered beneath the forest canopy.

We walk in silence, Felix holding my hand firmly as we make our way through the dark. Kitty's a few steps behind us, struggling over roots and leaf litter in her stilettos, which she refuses to take off. Her reasoning? She says she has plenty of Louboutins, but only one pair of feet.

I can barely see two feet in front of me, but somehow Felix seems to know exactly where he's going. From time to time I look up at the dark leafy veil of leaves overhead. I can see heavy black clouds through the gaps, lit purple by streaks of brilliant lightning forking through the air.

Even as Kitty and I shriek when a loud peal of thunder roars above us like a giant's war cry, there's not so much as a flinch from Felix. Without missing a beat, he continues leading us forward through the woodland gloom, impervious to the pandemonium in the sky. He moves sure and steadfast as a star on its fixed course across the heavens, cutting boldly though the dark night like a comet.

He never stops, never steps aside or changes direction.

After a while I realize that we're walking in a perfectly straight line. Not a straight-ish line, or a meandering curve like a track though the forest, but rather an unnaturally rigid path. Even though we're surrounded by trees on all sides, they're never directly in front of us, almost as if they're opening the way up for us as we walk. I look over my shoulder and see only the gloom of tangled vegetation and twisted trees behind us, no discernable path or opening.

I wonder whether Kitty or Felix have noticed this, but something keeps me from asking them directly. A niggling fear, a feeling of being left out. They're keeping something from me. Some secret, sitting dark and heavy between us, even as we walk together through the storm.

My flimsy ballet-style beribboned shoes, suited more for a school dance than scrambling over slippery rocks and broken braches, begin to literally fall apart on my feet. The stitching unravels, and the soles wear thin, as if I'd been walking for days, years, rather than an hour. They hang on to my feet like desperate stowaways, useless and burdensome. Eventually the inevitable happens, and I step on a sharp spike of wood sticking out the side of an upturned branch. I cry out, letting go of Felix's hand as I hop on my left foot, holding my right foot above the ground.

Pain like a hot searing blade stabs the underside of my right sole. I can feel liquid in my shoe.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Felix asks urgently.

"And that's why I'm not taking these babies off until we're home," says Kitty, clicking her beat-up stilettos together. She gasps, stepping closer to me with her eyes wide. "Shit Ash, that looks really bad."

I look down at my foot and watch in detached horror as the toe of the ivory slipper turns crimson, and a single drop of blood pools on the outside of the silky fabric, then drips down onto the moss below.

Don't faint don't faint don't faint...

Strong arms scoop me up. Felix carries me like before, clutching me tight against his chest as he walks.

I fight the pull to close my eyes and pass out.

Our clothes are still wet, but I can feel the heat of his body through his hoodie, and I cling to him for warmth, hoping that I'm warming him a bit too. Kitty follows behind, muttering about the Twilight Zone and wanting to see some receipts.

We walk this way for what feels like an hour, until I see a soft golden light illuminating the tree trunks up ahead, a welcoming warmth in the distance beckoning us forward.