AI The silver chain bit into Aurora's neck as she stumbled over the root of an ancient oak, her breath hitching in her throat. She did not fall. Her boots found purchase on the damp earth, and she spun around, eyes scanning the perimeter of the clearing.
Silence. Heavy. Oppressive.
Rory checked her watch . Ten minutes since she crossed the boundary of Richmond Park, yet the air here tasted different. Thicker. It carried the cloying sweetness of rotting lilies mixed with the sharp, metallic tang of ozone. The Heartstone pendant against her collarbone pulsed once, a warm throb that sent a jolt of electricity down her spine . It glowed with a faint, crimson inner light, casting long, dancing shadows across the wildflowers that bloomed in violent hues of purple and red despite the late November chill .
She had followed the map Eva sent, a scribbled note on a napkin from the Golden Empress that led her straight through a gap in the fence and into this pocket of wrongness. The standing stones formed a rough circle around the grove, their bark blackened and scarred as if struck by lightning centuries ago. They marked the edge. Inside, time did not flow correctly. An hour here could mean days outside, or mere seconds. Rory needed to be quick. She needed the answer the stones supposedly held about the Hel portals opening across London, and she needed to leave before Silas noticed his delivery girl was missing for more than her scheduled break.
A twig snapped.
Rory froze. The sound came from behind the largest stone, a gnarled monolith that leaned precariously toward the centre of the grove. She held her breath, her hand drifting to the small utility knife clipped to her belt. It was a habit from her delivery runs, a precaution against drunk punters or stray dogs, not whatever lurked in a Fae-touched grove.
"Show yourself," she called out . Her voice sounded flat, absorbed instantly by the dense air. No echo returned.
The wildflowers rustled. Not from wind. The air stood still, stagnant and heavy. The movement came from below, a ripple passing through the stems as if something slithered beneath the soil. Rory took a step back, her heel grinding dry leaves into dust. The crimson glow of the Heartstone intensified, burning hot against her skin. It pulled her forward, an invisible tether dragging her toward the centre of the circle.
She fought the urge to run. Running triggered predators. She knew this from the streets of Cardiff, from the alleys of London where she dodged Evan's drunken rages before fleeing to the capital. Stillness was survival. She focused on her breathing, slow and steady, forcing her heart rate down.
Another sound. A wet, tearing noise. Like fabric ripping, but softer. Flesh separating from bone.
Rory shifted her weight , ready to sprint. The shadows between the stones seemed to deepen, detaching themselves from the oak trunks. They did not move like normal shadows. They stretched toward her, elongating against the direction of the pendant's glow.
"You are not welcome here."
The voice did not come from a throat. It vibrated in her teeth, in the marrow of her bones. It sounded like dry leaves skittering on pavement, a chorus of whispers layered over one another.
Rory gripped the knife tighter. "I need to know about the portals. The Hel gates."
"Knowledge is a debt," the voice whispered, closer now. It came from everywhere and nowhere. "And you have no coin to pay."
The temperature plummeted. Frost crystallised on the vibrant petals of the wildflowers, turning the red blooms to brittle ice in seconds. Rory's breath plumed before her face, white and thick. The Heartstone burned hotter, a warning flare against the encroaching cold.
Something moved at the edge of her vision. A flash of pale grey skin, too long and too many joints. Rory whipped her head around. Nothing. Just the blackened stones and the unnatural flowers.
She turned back and found the space between two stones occupied.
It stood hunched, its form shifting like smoke caught in a draft. Tall. Too tall. Its limbs hung loose, dragging on the frozen ground. Where a face should be, a smooth expanse of grey flesh reflected the crimson light of the pendant. No eyes. No mouth. Yet the voice emanated from it, vibrating the air around Rory's head.
"Little lawyer," it hissed. "You seek loopholes in laws written in blood."
Rory backed away, her boots slipping on the newly formed ice. "I seek to close them. To stop the bleeding."
The creature tilted its head. A crack appeared in the smooth grey surface, splitting open to reveal rows of needle-like teeth that glistened with dark fluid. "Closing requires a key. You carry the lock."
It pointed a long, spindly finger at the Heartstone.
Rory's hand flew to the pendant. The metal seared her palm. "This was given to me. By someone who wants to help."
"Help?" The creature laughed, a sound like grinding stones . "The stone does not help. It hungers. It feeds on the breach. And you, little human, are the bait."
The ground beneath Rory's feet trembled . The wildflowers shattered , exploding into clouds of frozen dust. The standing stones groaned, shifting their positions inches at a time, closing the circle. The gap she had entered through vanished, sealed by a wall of writhing thorns that sprouted from the earth with terrifying speed.
Rory spun, looking for an exit. The thorns grew higher, blocking the sky. The darkness above deepened, swallowing the moon. Only the crimson glow of the pendant remained, casting the grove in a hellish red light.
The creature stepped forward. Its movements were jerky, unnatural, as if it skipped frames of reality. One moment it stood ten feet away; the next, it loomed directly over her. The smell of rotting lilies overwhelmed her, choking her senses.
"Give it," the creature demanded. Its voice dropped an octave, shaking Rory's ribcage. "Or we peel you open to retrieve it."
Rory raised the knife, the steel trembling slightly in her grip. "Come any closer and I'll make you regret it."
The creature paused. The crack in its face widened into a grotesque smile. "Metal bites flesh. It does not bite shadow."
It dissolved. One second it stood there, a towering nightmare of grey skin and teeth. The next, it became a cloud of dark mist that swirled around Rory's legs. The cold intensified, biting through her jeans, numbing her skin. The mist coiled up her body, heavy and suffocating.
Rory slashed at the air. The knife passed through nothing. The mist tightened around her throat, lifting her off the ground. Her feet kicked uselessly against the empty air. The Heartstone pulsed wildly now, a frantic rhythm against her chest. It felt alive, angry.
"Fight it," she gasped, clawing at the invisible hands crushing her windpipe. "Fight..."
The mist squeezed harder. Stars danced in her vision, white spots against the red haze. Her lungs burned. The creature's voice echoed inside her skull, loud and clear.
"The gateway opens. The queen demands her due."
Rory's fingers brushed the pendant. The heat was unbearable, blistering her skin. She remembered the stories her mother told, Welsh legends of the Tylwyth Teg and the prices they demanded. Never accept a gift without knowing the cost.
She had accepted the pendant from a shadowed figure in an alleyway three nights ago. No name. No explanation. Just a warning: *When it burns, run.*
She hadn't run. She had investigated. Stupid. Arrogant.
The mist dragged her toward the centre of the grove, where the ground had split open. A fissure widened, revealing a chasm of swirling violet darkness below. The sound of screaming wind rose from the depths , carrying voices she recognised. Evan. Her father. Eva. All calling her name, all begging for help.
"Let go," the creature whispered in her ear, its breath freezing the tears on her cheeks. "Join them."
Rory's vision blurred. The knife slipped from her numb fingers, clattering onto the ice. She reached for the pendant, her nails digging into the silver chain. If this thing wanted the stone, maybe destroying it would break the hold.
She yanked the chain. It did not break. The silver felt like iron, unyielding .
The fissure widened further. A hand reached up from the violet darkness. Pale. Familiar. A small crescent-shaped scar on the left wrist.
Rory's own hand.
The doppelgänger grinned, its eyes black pits of void. It grabbed Rory's ankle. The touch burned like acid.
"Time to pay," the creature hissed.
The standing stones cracked. A loud boom echoed through the grove as the nearest oak split down the middle, falling toward her with terrifying speed. Rory twisted in the air, the mist releasing her just enough to drop. She hit the frozen ground hard, the impact knocking the wind from her lungs.
She scrambled backward, sliding across the ice. The fallen oak crushed the spot where she had stood, splintering into a million shards. From the broken wood emerged not sap, but black blood . It pooled rapidly, spreading toward her boots.
The grey creature reformed beside the fissure, its form solidifying once more. It raised both hands, and the black blood rose up, forming tendrils that lashed out like whips.
Rory rolled to the side. A tendril smashed into the ground where her head had been, sending shards of ice flying. She crawled toward the thorns, searching for a weak point. The plants hissed as she approached, their tips sharpening into deadly points.
Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.
The Heartstone flared with blinding red light. The warmth turned to agony. Rory screamed as the pendant burned through her shirt, searing her skin. The light shot out in a beam, striking the creature in the chest.
The beast shrieked, a sound that shattered the remaining wildflowers. It staggered back, the grey skin smoking where the light hit. The mist around it boiled away.
"It burns!" the creature roared. "The key rejects the lock!"
Rory clutched the pendant, tears streaming down her face from the pain. "Then take it!" she yelled. "Take it and leave me alone!"
She ripped the chain from her neck, skin tearing with it. Blood mingled with the sweat on her palms. She hurled the pendant toward the fissure, toward the waiting hand of her doppelgänger.
The creature lunged, faster than sight. It intercepted the pendant in mid-air, its long fingers closing around the crimson stone.
Silence fell instantly.
The wind stopped. The screaming from the fissure ceased. The black blood receded into the wood.
The creature looked at the pendant in its hand. It smiled, the rows of needles gleaming .
"Foolish child," it said softly . "We do not want the key. We wanted you to bring it to the door."
It dropped the pendant. The stone did not hit the ground. It hovered, spinning rapidly. The violet light from the fissure surged upward, engulfing the stone. A beam of pure energy shot into the sky, punching a hole through the canopy, through the clouds, into the stars.
The ground shook violently. The standing stones toppled one by one, crashing into the dirt. The thorns retracted, revealing the path back to Richmond Park.
But the path was gone .
Beyond the tree line, London did not exist. Only a vast, swirling vortex of purple fog stretched to the horizon. Buildings floated upside down in the distance. The sky rained ash.
The creature bowed low, its voice booming with triumph.
"Welcome home, Malphora."
Rory stared at the apocalyptic landscape, her hand clutching her bleeding wrist. The crescent scar on her skin began to glow with the same crimson light as the stone.
The creature stepped aside, gesturing toward the ruined path.
"Your kingdom awaits."
From the fog ahead, shapes emerged. Thousands of them. Marching. Hungry. And they all wore her face.