Jay sat on the edge of the bed.
Isellta will die. He will die. There’s nothing I can do. He will die. That monster holding him prisoner will win. It’ll devour him. Isellta will die and I can’t stop it. I can’t help him. I can’t protect him. I can’t do one darn thing to save him.
Maelin sat beside him. “Sweetheart.”
He shook his head.
Maelin refrained from touching him.
LM got off the bed and walked over to them. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what else to do.”
Jay bit his lower lip and nodded.
****
If I were a full fey, I would know what to do. If I hadn’t been taken in by that vampire. If my schie a kehn had only come for me and reclaimed me.
“I am sorry.” It was an unhelpful thing to say and he had already said it. Yet, he felt like the repetition was important, maybe even necessary. He wanted to say more. He wanted to do something more.
But there is nothing to be said or done. If he will not let me hrrash ka kae with Isellta, there is nothing else.
LM gasped as an idea came to him. “Capernaum?” He glanced around. “Are you there? My dear friend, are you here with me?”
An invisible hand came to rest on the half-fey’s shoulder.
LM’s wings rustled.
“I need your help. This fey here. This Isellta. He’s unconscious. He’s dying. Do what you can to revive him. Please.”
The hand left his shoulder.
“What?” Maelin and Jay said in unison.
****
Capernaum approached the bed. “So. You’re the Isellta everyone is all worried about. LM wanted to know if you were worth it. Are you worth so much worry and concern?”
Isellta didn’t reply. Not that Capernaum expected a reply.
He traced the lines of Isellta’s prominent facial bones. “If I enter you, will you break completely?”
He looked up at LM, who was explaining stuff to Maelin and Jay. “I don’t know if I can do any good, but I’ll do it for you. My dear friend.”
Capernaum closed his eyes and slipped through the fine cracks in Isellta’s defenses. He entered the fey’s mind and glanced around.
Tangled webs of color stretched all around him. So many vibrant colors, but something was wrong. His mind was too silent.
There were no sparks.
Capernaum had the strange sensation that he was standing in the middle of an abandoned highway. Not a car to be seen in either direction. Nor any sign of life.
He tried to follow the lines, but most of them were too tangled to follow. Others led to nowhere in particular. The rest were a hopeless hodgepodge of blended colors that didn’t make any sense.
He glanced around, hoping to find some sort of sign, something out of place.
He found it – a black and gray braided rope hanging in the air.
Capernaum walked over to it, being extra careful about not touching the other lines. He stopped and examined the rope. It hung there, waiting to be touched, wanting to be pulled.
He reached for it.
The ground opened under his feet and he fell.
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