AI The silver chain burned against my skin, a sudden, biting heat that snapped me out of my stride. I clutched the Heartstone pendant, the crimson gem throbbing in rhythm with a heart that wasn't mine. The air in front of me rippled, heat-haze distortion on a chilly October night, and the familiar tangled brambles of Richmond Park dissolved.
Gone.
I stood on the edge of the clearing. The Fae Grove.
"Brilliant," I muttered, shaking my stinging fingers. "Just brilliant."
I hadn't meant to find it. One moment I was cutting across the park to make a delivery to the Richmond estates—Yu-Fei didn't tolerate cold dim sum—and the next, the pendant had dragged me off the path like a dog on a lead.
I took a step back, intending to retrace my footprints in the mulch, but the path behind me had vanished. In its place stood a wall of ancient oaks, their trunks so wide they’d need three men holding hands to encircle them. The bark wasn't rough and brown, but pale and smooth, like scar tissue.
I turned back to the clearing. It was wrong. The light here was a bruised purple, suspended in a sky that held no moon. The standing stones, jagged monoliths of dark granite, jutted from the earth like broken teeth.
The pendant cooled instantly.
I checked my watch . The second hand was dead. Stuck at twelve. I tapped the glass, winding the stem. Nothing. Not a tick.
"Okay. Think."
I’m a delivery girl. I know London. I know the grid, the one-way systems, the shortcuts through alleys that smell of stale wee and bin juice. This place didn't fit. It wasn't a lack of GPS signal; it was a fundamental rejection of physics.
The silence pressed against my ears, heavy and suffocating. London never shuts up. You always hear the distant hum of the M25, the siren of a police car three boroughs over, the screech of foxes. Here, the silence was absolute. It felt like being underwater.
I walked further into the Grove. My trainers made no sound on the ground. The grass wasn't grass; it was a thick, spongy moss that springed back instantly, erasing my footprints.
Wildflowers bloomed in impossible clusters. Hyacinths, bluebells, and roses tangled together, their colours too vivid, glowing with a neon intensity in the twilight. I knelt by a patch of lilies. They looked perfect . Too perfect .
I reached out to touch a petal.
Snatch.
My hand jerked back. A stem had moved. Just a fraction of an inch, coiling away like a snake sensing heat.
I stared at the flower. It was still now, bobbing gently in a breeze I couldn't feel.
"Right. No touching the flora." I stood up, brushing the knees of my cargos.
The Heartstone pulsed again, a weak, irregular flutter against my sternum. It wasn't the warning heat from before, but a terrified flutter.
I scanned the perimeter of the clearing. Twelve stones. Twelve monoliths arranged in a rough circle.
In the centre of the circle sat a stone table. An altar.
I shouldn't go near it. Every instinct screamed at me to turn around, to climb the pale trees, to scream for help until my throat bled. But I'm a Carter. We don't run until we see the whites of their eyes. Or whatever colour eyes these things had.
I approached the altar. It was stained black in the centre. Old blood? Or just the nature of the rock? I leaned in closer, the smell of ozone and copper stinging my nose.
A sound.
Dry leaves shifting.
I spun around. "Who's there?"
Nothing. Just the swaying of the impossible flowers.
I looked down at my feet. The moss was undisturbed. But I had heard it. The distinct sound of a boot heel crushing dry vegetation.
"You're hearing things, Rory," I whispered, my voice sounding tinny and small in the vast quiet . "Stress. Lack of sleep. That last breakup was a doozy."
I turned back to the altar, but my attention was scattered. My peripheral vision was twitching . Shadows danced at the corners of the standing stones, elongating and shrinking in the span of a blink.
I walked around the altar, putting my back to the stone. Better to see them coming.
The grove felt larger now. The stones seemed to have drifted further apart. Or was I shrinking? I looked at my hands. They looked normal.
Then the temperature plummeted.
It wasn't the chill of a windy night. It was the cold of a morgue slab. Frost began to spiderweb across the surface of the altar, creeping toward my fingers.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. My left fingers brushed the small crescent scar on my wrist. It ached, a dull, throbbing phantom pain.
The sound again.
*Crunch.*
This time, it came from directly behind me. On the other side of the altar.
I vaulted over the stone slab, landing in a crouch on the moss. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo.
Nothing.
The altar was clear. The frost was gone . The moss was pristine .
"Show yourself," I said. My voice didn't waver. Good.
A giggle.
High-pitched. Childlike. It echoed , bouncing off the stones so I couldn't tell where it originated.
I backed away from the altar, moving toward the gap between two of the largest monoliths.
"You find this funny?"
The giggling stopped. The silence rushed back in, heavier than before. It pressed against my eardrums.
I looked at the Heartstone. It was glowing now, a faint, sickly luminescence visible through the fabric of my shirt. It wasn't warm anymore. It was freezing cold, burning me with ice.
I reached the gap between the stones. Beyond them, the woods waited. The pale trees with scar-tissue bark. I could leave. I just had to walk between them.
I took a step.
The gap narrowed.
I stopped. I looked left, then right. The stones were definitely moving. Grinding against the earth, slow and deliberate, closing the exit.
I sprinted.
I threw myself at the narrowing gap. I wedged my shoulder through, scraping my jacket against the granite. The pressure was immense, the stone pushing against me like a hydraulic press.
I gritted my teeth and shoved, kicking against the moss. With a grunt of exertion, I popped through to the other side.
I rolled onto the ground, gasping for air.
I scrambled to my feet and looked back.
The gap was gone . The stones formed a seamless, unbroken wall. I was trapped outside the circle now, in the pale woods.
At least I was out of the Grove.
I turned to navigate the woods. The trees here were taller, their canopies so high up they blocked out the bruised sky completely . It was pitch black, save for the bioluminescent glow of the flowers at my feet.
Then I noticed the shadows.
They weren't attached to the trees. They weren't cast by the light. They were entities of their own, sliding across the moss, pooling around the trunks.
They were gathering .
One separated itself from the base of a tree. It was tall, slender, and jagged, like a tear in reality. It had no face, just a smooth, dark surface where features should be.
I took a step back, my heel catching on a root.
Another shadow detached itself to my left. Then another to my right.
I was surrounded .
The Heartstone pendant seared my skin, a sudden explosion of heat that made me gasp. It was glowing so bright it lit up the trees, casting long, twisting shadows that reached for me like grasping fingers.
The shadow-entities flinched at the light. They recoiled, hissing sounds like steam escaping a valve.
I grabbed the pendant, holding it up like a torch. "Back off!"
The light pushed them back. I took the opportunity, turning and running into the dark thicket. I didn't know where I was going , but anywhere was better than here.
Branches whipped at my face, leaving stinging welts. The air grew colder, breath misting in front of me. I ran until my lungs burned, my trainers slipping on the damp moss.
I skidded to a halt.
In front of me stood the altar.
I hadn't run out. I hadn't moved an inch. I was back in the centre of the circle.
The stones leered down at me, silent and immovable. The frost was back, crawling across the ground, inching toward my feet.
"No," I breathed. "No, no, no."
I spun around, checking the gaps. All gone. Sealed tight.
A low growl vibrated through the soles of my shoes. It wasn't coming from the woods. It was coming from beneath the altar.
The Heartstone shattered . Not the glass, but the feeling . The warmth vanished, replaced by a void so deep it felt like it was sucking the marrow from my bones.
The black stain on the altar began to spread. It bubbled and churned , thick and viscous. It rose up, forming a shape.
A head. Shoulders. Claws the length of kitchen knives.
The thing pulled itself out of the stone, dripping darkness. It shook itself, and droplets of shadow hit the moss, burning holes in the ground.
It turned its faceless head toward me.
I backed up until my spine hit the cold granite of a standing stone.
The creature took a step. The ground didn't crunch; it shrieked.
I reached for the pocket where I kept my phone. My hand trembled , just once. I pulled it out. No signal. Of course.
I looked back at the creature. It was tensing its legs, preparing to lunge.
I tightened my grip on the phone. It wasn't a weapon, but it was heavy. Solid.
The creature sprang.