Page 58 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
The second item was Raggedy Andy. He lay on the floor beneath my shredded armchair, smooshed under a pile of hardbound books. I plucked rubble from his red yarn hair, then hugged his cotton body to my heart. His little blue sailor hat still smelled like my childhood—crayons, bubblegum, and jelly sandals—instantly reminding me of the day I got him.
At five, I’d gone through a difficult phase. With nightmares plaguing me, the prospect of sleep terrified me, which meant I was always tired, unreasonable, and churlish. And whenever one of the adults in the house tried forcing me to go to bed, I’d throw such wild tantrums that I’d injure myself. And them.
After a particularly harrowing night wherein I’d kicked Aunt Aylie in the eye, Daddy had taken me for a car ride. The warmth from the heater and the steady hum of the engine had successfully lulled me to sleep. Daddy had driven me around for four hours before finally stopping. When I’d awoken, Raggedy Andy sat beside me in my booster seat.
Not only was I enamored with Andy as my favorite character in my favorite movie, but Daddy had given me a second reason to love my new doll. He’d said that Andy wasn’t just a toy, that he was also a sleep charm—that he’d protect me from all the ugly, mean monsters in my bad dreams. While he couldn’t prevent my nightmares from happening, so long as I held him tight while I slept, Andy would never let the bad guys in them hurt me.
Being me, I was more than happy to believe in a magic dream guardian. Every night after that, Andy joined me in the Land of Nod, and bedtime became a much easier affair. For everyone.
As I aged, I realized that Andy wasn’t magic, that Daddy had concocted the story of him being a sleep charm, so I’d feel secure enough to get my rest. Partly because I was disrupting the entire household, but mostly because he loved me and wanted me to feel someone had my back—even in my grimmest dreams.
Now as an adult, I knew that that someone had always been him.
I choked on tears I hadn’t realized were falling and stuffed Andy into my backpack.
The upstairs bathroom was just as trashed as the rest of the house was. The medicine cabinet mirror lay in sparkling shards in the marble sink. Cautious, I collected various soaps from amid its remnants. I was just depositing a travel size bottle of conditioner in my backpack when I heard a rustling behind me.
I whirled around, heart racing, with a huge blade of glass in my hand. There was nothing there to fight, but the susurrus continued. The linen closet door shook, and something inside toppled over. I held my breath, waiting for an attack. Until a plaintive meow rang out.
Gasping, I dropped the glass and my bag and scrambled to the closet. My hope swelled as I wrenched open the rickety door and found a slender orange tabby cat crouched on the middle shelf of the closet surrounded by Vi’s nail polish collection and a bucket of men’s shaving supplies, alive and frantic for freedom.
Fianna’s celadon eyes rounded as I screamed for joy and scooped her fuzzy body into my arms.
“You clever girl,” I mewled, Fianna purring like a lion. She was the smallest beacon in the doldrums, but she’d do. “Thank heaven for your hidey holes!”
“Fiannawillbefine,”Briar assured me again as we bumped along in the back of a rented SUV. Ours was the center of a caravan of other tank-like vehicles stuffed with Danann bodyguards, heading to the portal to the fae realm.
I’d been staring out my window for the past fifteen minutes, watching the sun set above the white oaks bordering the road we traveled. Whatever good feelings I’d felt at finding Fianna had flown the coop the minute our plane touched down in Charleston—a place I’d so recently visited. This second trip couldn’t be coincidental.
“She was placed in your sister’s arms ten minutes after we left.” Briar set a hand on my knee, his touch dampish. May was raging hard in the south, dewing my skin even in my tee-shirt and shorts. “You’ll see your cat and your family again once they reach the palace. They won’t be too far behind us, but we’ll move faster without them.”
Finally, I peered over at him. His eyes glowed like orbs within his black hood. “Why are we here?”
Briar deliberated, his tongue rolling inside his mouth. Finally, he expelled a heavy breath. “Because this is where the closest portal is, Amy. It’s Angel Oak.”
I gaped, unable to breathe.
“We never thought you’d find it on your own. Without guidance. Without prompting. We moved your family hundreds of miles away from it to be safe, never once thinking one day you’d go on a spring break adventure with your friends and accidentally stumble upon the damn thing.” He shook his head, looking skyward. “Maybe it was fate.”
My skin prickled as it had when I’d touched Angel Oak. So, that jolt hadn’t been just my imagination.
My tongue grew sandpapery. “Did I do something to the portal when I was there?”
I’d never seen someone so somber. “You opened it, Amy, when you touched it.”
The meager fast-food dinner I’d eaten started coming back up. I swallowed it down, but stomach acid stung my throat.
“Only two people can open a portal like that.” Briar spoke with deference to my apparent distress. “The ruler of the realm, or his heir. If they step through, the portal automatically locks again.”
“Then how will my family and the rest of the caravan get through the portal? If I go through, there’s no one left to open it for them.”
Was he fooling me into leaving my family behind? Briar and his men were desperate to safeguard me as the heir to the fae kingdom. I could totally see them lying about my family’s ability to make it to Evereostre, aware I wouldn’t abandon them if I knew they couldn’t follow. Briar had admitted to deceiving me my whole life, so trusting him right then seemed risky.
“They can unlock it without you—with a sanctioned key.” He unzipped his backpack, retrieving a little black box typically used to house rings.
I nearly recoiled.Please don’t propose to me in a speeding car on our escape from certain doom.
My heart rate slowed when Briar pried the box open to reveal a tiny skeleton key, a combo of iron and brass. A smooth round ruby gusseted its blade.
