Page 217 of Bedeviled

I stagger back, then sit down heavily on my haunches, breathless.

Nero comes over to me then. “Heal,” I murmur, pressing my hand against his fur as I stare at the opening in front of me. I place a hand on my own chest and repeat the spell.

Without question, my magic is moving slower. It takes longer for my power to stitch together the flesh wounds on my face than it did my earlier head wound.

While I wait for my spells to finish, I stare at the opening in front of me. Within it, I can see hellfire, burning orange and amber but also a deep crimson hue akin to blood.

Even from here I can hear the screams of souls, distant though they are. The sound raises the hairs on my arms.

So, this was clearly not a branch of the ley line that led back to Earth.

Once Nero and I are healed, I stand, then retrace my steps back to where the tunnel branched off and head down the other tunnel, though it clearly opens to locations within the Otherworld. Places so bright they hurt my eyes and ones so dark the night beyond looks velvety. Impossible to tell where I am, except for somewhere in the Otherworld.

Eventually, the ley line branches again, and when Nero and I start down the tunnel on the right, the next opening I see leads out to a stone circle. Beyond it a little ways away, I see a road and a parked car.

Earth.

Goddess’s good grace, finally.

It takes me mere minutes and several glimpses into places I do not remotely recognize to realize that while the lilac wine might’ve given me the ability to better see these roads, it does not make me better equipped to actually navigate them.

I don’t have time for guesswork. I can feel whatever edge I have slipping away.

The ley line and I have a unique relationship, one based on barter. I sincerely hope that right now, it’s willing to make a trade.

I pull a strand of my hair. “Ley line,” I call out to it, “I offer you a strand of my hair in exchange for the safe passage of me and my familiar to the doorway that Eislyn Alder, exiled princess of the Flora Kingdom, exited.”

I drop the strand of hair, watching it float to the ground where it is absorbed, then consumed by the ley line. The walls shiver, then smooth.

I take a few tentative steps forward, but nothing about my surroundings changes.

“I will give you a taste of my blood—blood that has been altered by fae magic.”

I pause. Wait. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but these ley lines seem particularly still. Curious, perhaps?

I can only hope.

I don’t need to cut myself open to bleed. Blood still wets the side of my cheek. I swipe it now, then hold out my hand, letting it drip to the ground.

It only lingers there for a moment. Then it seems to sink into the floor the same way my magic sinks into flesh.

Around me and Nero, the walls ripple. Something is happening.

I take a step, then another. The walls around me smooth, and my surroundings appear as they once were.

I lay my hand flat on one such wall.

“Please,” I implore. “Please help me.”

But magic, sentient though it is, doesn’t have empathy the way we do. It little cares for the plight of humans and fairies alike, and if my offering wasn’t suitable, my words won’t make a difference.

I glance down the tunnel, gauging my odds of finding Eislyn myself before I focus on the ley line once more.

This extensive magical road sees the comings and goings of many, many beings, some alive, some dead, some good, some evil. It touches multiple worlds and peers into each. But it only gets brief glimpses of our lives.

Perhaps that’s why it’s always seemed keen for secrets.

“In exchange for safe passage to the doorway Eislyn Alder exited from, I will share a true story.”