figured since I was a girl I’d be easier to get rid of, but he had to know I had more fight in me than that.
“If you stand down, it’ll go a lot easier for you,” I told him.
“I’m not the kind of man who lets himself get killed by a pint-sized thing like you.”
“One way or another, you’re going to die. I’m giving you an opportunity for a fast, painless death. But if you want to do it the hard way, I’m all for that too.” I tested the weight of the sword in my hand, making sure my grip was true but not too tight. “Your call.”
He bellowed and tucked his head down, running for me like a charging bull.
Why do they always pick the hard way?
There wasn’t enough room to sidestep him, so I braced myself for the hit. He slammed into me with his full weight, sending us both reeling backwards into the stone wall behind me. With the wind knocked out of me and stars dancing in my field of vision, I staggered to get away from him, weaving dizzily while he continued to ram himself against me.
He was trying to knock me out with nothing but his body weight, and he was doing a damn fine job of it.
I wheezed and punched him in the face as hard as I could.
He hadn’t been expecting me to pack so much force into one hit. No one really did. Stumbling back, he held his hand to his face, and his fingers came away bloody from the new smeared mess across his nose and mouth. When he spit, a tooth hit the stone.
“Bitch.” The insult sounded rather comical with his newly acquired lisp.
“I gave you a chance.” This time I ran at him, brandishing my sword. He took several steps backwards, gaze darting around for an escape, but there was none to be found. He bumped against the ledge a second before I hit him. I hadn’t accounted for how short the railing was, or how easily his girth would tip over.
“Oh, fuck.”
I pulled back too late. My sword had already speared him, and we were both going down. Wind whistled past my ears, and I said a silent prayer that he might break my fall somewhat.
I was only just able to yank my sword from his belly before we landed, but rather than hitting the ground, I was greeted by a tremendous splash. We’d somehow managed to overshoot the grass and had landed in Turtle Pond.
Once again my breath was robbed from me, as the icy grip of the water started to drag us both down. I kicked off him, but he grabbed my leg and held firm. He was sinking, and he knew it, but it seemed he was willing to die if it meant bringing me down with him.
I squirmed and thrashed, but he wouldn’t let go.
Just as I inhaled a mouthful of cold, murky water, the whole of the pond was engulfed in a purple-white light.
One minute I was underwater.
The next I was nowhere at all.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
There’s a big difference between what happens when people say “time stood still” and what actually happens when time stands still. It might not seem like an important distinction, because for most people, they’ll never experience the literal version, but once you know the difference, the phrase itself becomes pretty silly.
Time had stopped, and I was everywhere and nowhere.
I was in a room constructed of white noise and light, and since it had no boundaries, I was neither sitting nor standing. I was suspended, trapped between one reality and another.
It felt like passing between my world and Calliope’s. There was a space between where nothing made sense and things felt completely different. It wasn’t a place I wanted to be trapped, yet here I was, floating in it, with no idea of how to move forward or back.
Then, just as I’d wished to be free of it, I was.
I was back on the pond, but instead of drowning, I was sitting cross-legged on the surface of the water. The liquid was as still as glass, and around me everything was frozen in time. Below me I could make out Bill, his face bloated and purple, yet he didn’t move at all. The fire on the horizon didn’t flicker or dance; it was stuck in place like a photograph or a film on pause.
Like a creature built of smoke and mystery, he appeared. One minute I was alone, and the next I was looking up at the solid form of Aubrey Delacourte, King of the Fairies.
“Princess. Fancy meeting you here.”
I glanced around us and raised both eyebrows at him. Pointing out the absurdity of his statement seemed unnecessary considering we were both resting on water without falling through, and last I checked, neither of us was Jesus.