Sin's magic had purposely separated them, then. Proximity mattered...which reminded Puck of a game Amaranthian children often played, where two teams lined up in front of each other, a single goal in mind--to stay together while forcing the other team apart.
That was it. Hopefully. "Come to us," he commanded the others. "Line up side by side. Now."
William and the siblings skittered over without protest, and the tremors ceased. No new pits.
Puck expelled a heavy sigh of relief. "All right. We move forward together, remaining side by side, and--"
Another gust of wind, another flash. One second Puck was in line, the next he was a good distance away. The shaking intensified, new sections of land crumbling.
"Move to the right side of the fire," William shouted.
Everyone obeyed, doing whatever had to be done. In a game of survival, there wasn't time for a pissing contest. As they pressed shoulder to shoulder, the shaking decreased, annnd yes, the land ceased crumbling.
"Grab hands," Gillian said.
Too late. Just like before, wind blew. They were scattered once again, the line broken. Shaking. The creation of more pits. Soon, there would be no land left.
"What do we do?" Cameron shouted.
The foundation at William's feet just...dissolved. In a blink, the warrior vanished. With a scream of denial, Gillian scrambled after him.
Magic! Puck forced a thorny vine to spring from the ground and wrap around her ankle, catching her before she careened to her death. He rushed over, careful not to fall, and tugged her up, hating the pain the thorns must be inflicting upon her.
"Let me go!" She fought his hold, determined to reach the other male.
"Stop. Now." Indifference upped the volume as realization dawned. My wife kissed me one day, and nearly sacrificed herself--and me!--for another man the next.
William materialized at Puck's side, comprehended Gillian's attempt to save him and helped get her back on her feet.
Cameron and Winter jumped from their tiny plots of land. Another line. Without pause, everyone leaned, contorted and rotated to join hands. Still Puck braced, expecting another flash. But one second passed. Two, three. Nothing happened.
Ignoring a prick of resentment, he focused on William. "Flash Gillian to the chimeras on my count." Puck didn't have enough magic to whisk her or anyone else to safety. Only enough for his vines, his ice, perhaps a handful of other tricks.
Fury darkened the male's electric blues, all self-directed. "I can only flash solo."
Right. In the chaos, Puck had forgotten.
"Flash yourself to safety, idiot," Gillian screeched. "We'll find a way out of this without you."
"Or the entire area will collapse as soon as I'm gone," William responded.
He wasn't wrong. Sin would punish anyone who tried to save himself--by killing everyone else. Guilt could be a weapon sharper than any sword.
"Uh, guys. I've got a wee bit of a problem," Winter said.
Puck groaned, knowing what she was going to say. "How long do you have?"
Hatred darkened her silver-rimmed eyes. "Not long. Selfishness is screaming. If I don't abandon ship, madness will creep in. Can already feel it...have no idea what I'll do."
"You're not the only one with a difficult demon." Cameron rubbed his chin against his shoulder, wiping away a fresh bead of blood. "Obsession has questions about those bottomless pits, and wants answers."
"Just hold on, guys." Gillian's gaze darted over the forest. "We can do this. We will do this. We just have to stay together and move toward the chimeras."
Puck used the barest hint of magic to study the land, searching, searching. There! A glittery outline marked the perimeter of the "game." Roughly five hundred square feet away.
"We don't have to go as far as the chimeras," he said.
If they could cross the threshold together, they could--hopefully--escape unscathed. So how could they cross the threshold together?
Think! He tried, he did, but his mind had become far too jumbled with emotion. Fear for Gillian's safety. Regret that he hadn't claimed her while he'd had the chance. Anger that he would die, his time with his wife cut short, his realm and people doomed. Sorrow that he'd brought good people into a hopeless situation. Well, good people and William. Fury and jealousy over Gillian's devotion to the male. On top of all that, the demon was simply too loud.
"I'm sorry, Gillian, but I must...need to think clearly..." he began.
"No!" she said. "We'll figure this out. Don't--"
"Too late." Puck summoned ice. Now wasn't the time for hesitation.
A frigid storm brutally and savagely slaughtered each and every emotion. Indifference quieted, Puck's thoughts settling and aligning once more. There was no way the group could walk forward while holding hands. Too many pits bled into others, widening the gaps. If two people fell at any given time, they would drag down a third, then the fourth and fifth.
So. Moving on.
If they couldn't go across, beside, or under, they'd have to go over. The only way over? Magic. Of course. Magic was the problem, magic was the solution. He scanned the trees surrounding the clearing, found one with a thick trunk and limbs. Sturdy. Strong enough to hold one of his vines, plus the weight of the entire group? They'd find out.
Bugs crawled all over the bark, and those bugs would try to chew through the vine. Time would not be on their side.
Any other way?
Logic said: no.
The vine it is.
"I need a free hand, which means we must rearrange our positions." At present, Gillian and William hemmed him in. Amid protests, he added, "Once my hand is free, I'll use the tree to produce another thorn vine, and we will swing over the pits. In theory."
Cameron and Winter radiated dread. William donned a mask as cold as the ice. Puck met Gillian's gaze, noted she was ashen, knew he should be bothered but felt nothing.
"On my count," he said. "One. Two. Three."
Hands untangled. New pits formed. Puck switched places with William, dragging Gillian with him when she refused to let go of his hand. Cameron tottered over a ledge.
Winter grabbed his hand, saving him. A selfless act. Her head tilted back, a scream of pain bursting from her. The siblings tottered together.
William proved his strength, knocking Cameron back with a kick and holding Winter up with one hand, Gillian with the other. At the same time, Puck extended an arm. A vine shot from the tree and wrapped around his wrist, thorns puncturing his skin and muscle. Blood trickled.
As Winter's deadweight threatened to drag them all down, he leaped, taking everyone with him. Swinging. The added weight caused the thorns to dig deeper, hitting bone, but still he held on.
As soon as the vine leveled out, he shouted, "Release!"
Together they soared through the air, slammed into the line of trees and tumbled to the ground.
32
Gillian was on the cusp of a major freak-out. Hours had passed since the group had survived a game of hide-and-seek with chunks of land. Cameron was now catatonic, barely even breathing. He hadn't investigated the bottomless pits, and was being punished. Winter was in the throes of a punishment, as well, rocking back and forth, mumbling nonsensical things.
"Clock rewinds to hell," she said. "Crimson rain, beautiful destruction. The bell demands a toll. The darkest light. He comes. Help me die."
Gillian sat between the siblings, combing her fingers through Winter's hair one minute, caressing Cameron's face the next. Nothing she'd done had helped.
Nothing Puck had done had helped, either. She'd asked him to share his ice with the pair, but he'd said, "I do, and I'll make everything worse. Right now, they care about the havoc they'll cause if they stop fighting. If they stop caring..."
Claiming he needed to erect a wall of thorny vines along the (new) camp's perimeter, he'd taken off soon after. William had stalked after him, radiating menace.
Would EP--Emotional Puck--be the one to return? Or would she ha
ve to deal with Ice Man?
Finally--answers! Puck strode through the trees, approaching. He had a black eye, his clothes dirt-stained, bloodstained and torn.
What she didn't see? Warmth. He looked more terrifying than any foe she'd ever faced.
Her hopes plummeted.
He and William must have fought, despite Puck's cold state. But then, Puck had rules. He'd never listed them all to Gillian, but she figured one had to be: Always strike back.
"We can't stay here, and we can't take the siblings with us," he said, his voice cold and hard. "They'll only slow us down."
She would think of something to help her friends. She must! But first, she had to help her husband. He'd once told her an outside source had to make him feel something strongly enough to break the ice. Very well.
She stood, closed the distance. Peering up at him, she demanded, "Kiss me."
Ignoring her, he said, "Get your bag. We head out."
"No," she said with a shake of her head. "We aren't leaving yet."
"We are," he insisted. "If you resist, I'll hurt you."
"Do it, then. Hurt me."
He...didn't. Didn't even make an attempt. Because he couldn't!
She placed her hands on his shoulders. "If you were my Puck, you'd want to kiss me, and you'd want to stay here."
"I'm not your Puck."