Page 60 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Of course, there are.
“Anyway, your father decided we’d send a squadron of warriors down to Angel Oak to terminate the bogeybats. They departed right after your uncle gave me another key.” Briar set his key back in its tiny box and clicked shut its lid. “They were to either kill the bats or force them back through the portal, which they’d then lock.”
“I’m guessing it didn’t work.”
Briar exhaled. “During the first battle, more bats crawled out of the portal, so the keyholder ran to the door and tried to lock it. One of the bats bit off his hand, and the key with it.”
I winced, remembering the feel of those fangs in my leg. Had the warrior’s skin saved me from a similar amputation?
“He’ll be okay,” Briar assured me. “Once we get him back to the Spring Palace. Missing limbs can be easily restored with a skilled healer’s help.”
“So, they couldn’t lock the portal?”
Briar shook his head. “Not then, anyway. They killed all the bats they could find, dug through their innards, but found no key. So, we sent another squadron down with another key, and they finally managed to lock shit up. Our men remained at Angel Oak for three more days to be sure no other bats were lurking. Then they called to ask for further orders, and the council decided it was safe to bring them home. They were back by the Beltane festival.”
“Then why are you rushing me out of here? If the portal’s locked, then the bat with Daddy’s totem can’t give it to Gentian. The curse can’t progress.”
“Amy, that staff was coated in your blood. That’s all the bat needs to reopen the portal—and to know what scent the harbingers should track next. And they will come back for you.”
Damnit! I scraped my face.Will I ever feel safe again?
Briar unbuckled his seatbelt and scooted over until he was flush against me. He wrapped an arm, light as a feather boa, around my shoulders. This time, I wanted the contact. I just wished he wouldn’t be so goddamn gentle about it.
“I’m sorry we failed you, Amy,” Briar murmured.
I wondered what more the Danann warriors could’ve done to fix my mistakes. “You didn’t.”
“Yes, we did.” He swallowed, looking sick. “The men we sent down assumed they’d terminated all the bats, but there must’ve been a bunch of them hiding—waiting. When the squadrons started home, the bats followed. That’s how they caught your father’s scent.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “We led them right to him.”
I didn’t know what to say. My grief hung too heavily to assuage anyone else’s pain. At that point, assigning blame was beyond my capacity, for everyone and everything seemed at fault. Even Daddy.
Angel Oak Park was closed when we arrived, steel gating the passage in. I watched, stupefied, as a hand emerged from the lead SUV’s window and snapped. A tremor rippled through me like an aftershock, the gate opening of its own accord.
“Well, that’s cool,” I remarked to myself as we accelerated.
“You’ll learn how to do stuff like that. You’ll have a muse—a teacher—at the palace.”
I sighed. “At least that’s something to look forward to.”
Briar didn’t reply to that thoughtless remark, but his tight expression confessed that I’d wounded him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that I wasn’t looking forward to—to marriage and all.” Honestly, I hadn’t made up my mind on that front, but I didn’t need to hurt his feelings while I decided. “It’s just—”
There weren’t words to express my conflicting emotions.
Briar patted my hand. “I understand all this has probably placed a pall over what should be a happy time in our lives. I’m not offended that you’re not stoked for our engagement. We’ll give it some time. Maybe in a few months.”
Or decades.
When we parked, I said a silent farewell to my old life. To the home I’d grown up in. To the city I’d lived in. To the dreams I’d leave unfulfilled. To all my friends, who I regretted losing almost as much as my father.
I’d individually texted each of them before we hopped on the plane in Pittsburgh, saying my heartfelt goodbyes. I couldn’t say where I was going—they wouldn’t have believed me anyway—but I wanted them to know I’d be okay. Even if it wasn’t true. I wished them all long, happy lives and told them I’d never forget them.
Two seconds after I’d sent the last text, my phone had blown up with responses. Briar had taken my MulBerry and dumped it in the nearest trash can.
Once the park’s perimeter was scouted, a guard with a cleft chin approached Briar. After a brief discussion, Briar placed his key box in the guard’s hand, then grabbed his backpack. “Ready?” he asked me, shrugging on the pack.
Not at all.“Yep.”
