AI Aurora pushed through the tangle of undergrowth, the Heartstone Pendant heavy against her chest. She had followed its insistent warmth all the way from the edge of Richmond Park, the gem's pulse guiding her like a second heartbeat, stronger with every step. Eva's cryptic note had mentioned this place – a grove hidden in plain sight, where answers waited for those brave enough to seek them. But now, as the ancient oak standing stones loomed into view, circling the clearing like silent sentinels , doubt clawed at her throat.
She paused at the boundary, fingers brushing one of the rough trunks. The wood felt alive under her touch, bark etched with patterns that twisted like veins. No wind stirred the wildflowers dotting the grass, yet their petals shivered. She stepped across, and the air thickened, wrapping around her like damp silk . Time here bent, or so the old tales claimed. An hour inside could steal days outside. She checked her watch – midnight still, though she had walked for what felt like hours .
The pendant glowed faintly now, its deep crimson light spilling through her shirt. She clutched it, the silver chain cool against her scar-marked wrist. This artifact had arrived unannounced, wrapped in plain paper at her flat's doorstep weeks ago. No note, no sender. Just the warmth that flared near certain spots in London, pulling her towards forgotten corners. Tonight, it had led her here, to this fae-touched pocket, promising revelations about her family's tangled history – the Irish roots her father buried, the Welsh myths her mother whispered. Evan had mocked those stories during their worst fights, calling them delusions. But the pendant knew better. It thrummed now, insistent.
She moved deeper into the grove, boots sinking into soft earth that gave like flesh. The wildflowers bloomed in unnatural clusters, their colours vivid even in the dimness – purples and golds that seemed to drink the moonlight . No insects hummed, no leaves rustled. Silence pressed in, broken only by her own breaths. She scanned the clearing, searching for whatever Eva's note had hinted at: a marker, a sign, perhaps a portal's edge where realms bled together.
A faint crack echoed from the stones behind her. She froze, ears straining. Branches snapping? No, the undergrowth stood still. She turned slowly, eyes sweeping the perimeter. Shadows clung to the oaks, dense and unmoving. Yet something had shifted there, a flicker at the corner of her vision, gone before she could focus. She shook her head, blaming fatigue. The delivery shift at Golden Empress had run long, Yu-Fei barking orders until closing. But the pendant's pull had dragged her out here anyway, overriding exhaustion.
She pressed on, weaving between flower patches that released a sweet, cloying scent as she brushed them. It reminded her of overripe fruit, the kind that hid rot beneath. The grove's centre drew her, a slight depression in the earth where grass grew sparse, revealing soil dark as ink. She knelt, fingers digging into the cool dirt, searching for clues. The pendant warmed against her skin, its glow intensifying. Perhaps this was it – a thin spot between worlds, where her questions about the unknown benefactor might find answers.
Another sound drifted in, softer this time: a whisper , like silk dragging over stone. It came from the left, near a cluster of standing stones that leaned together like conspirators. Aurora rose, wiping soil from her hands. "Hello?" Her voice sounded small, absorbed by the air. No echo returned. She waited, heart quickening. The whisper repeated, closer now, but wordless, a susurrus that teased the edge of meaning.
She backed away, scanning the shadows. Movement caught her eye again – a shape darting between two oaks, low to the ground, too swift for a fox or deer. Her mind raced, quick as always, piecing fragments. Fae lore spoke of guardians in such places, entities that toyed with intruders. But Eva's note had assured safety, a friend's promise. Still, the wrongness seeped in, a chill that had nothing to do with temperature.
The pendant pulsed hotter, almost burning. She tugged it free, holding it aloft. Its crimson light cast eerie shadows across the grove, illuminating petals that now seemed to twist towards her, stems elongating like fingers. She blinked, and they stilled. Imagination, she told herself. But the whispers grew, multiplying – from the right now, then behind, a chorus of hushed breaths that circled her.
She spun, breath catching. The standing stones appeared taller, their etched patterns glowing faintly in response to the pendant. One symbol resembled a twisted knot, pulsing in time with the gem. She approached it, hand outstretched. The stone's surface hummed under her palm, vibrating like a living thing. A memory flashed: her mother's tales of fae groves, where time's theft left wanderers mad. Jennifer had spoken of whispers that lured the unwary deeper, promising secrets while unraveling minds.
A branch snapped nearby, deliberate this time. Aurora whirled, spotting it – a shadow detaching from an oak, humanoid but wrong, limbs too long, form blurring at the edges. It vanished as she focused, melting into the trunk. Her pulse thundered . Not alone. The certainty hit her like a physical weight . Whatever guarded this place had noticed her, testing boundaries.
She retreated towards the grove's edge, but the boundary stones seemed farther now, the clearing expanded . The wildflowers brushed her legs, petals clinging like tiny hands. She shook them off, skin crawling. The whispers evolved, forming fragments of words – her name, perhaps? "Rory..." It slithered from multiple directions, mocking her alias. No one here knew that name . Evan had used it in anger, but he was miles away, locked in the past she had fled.
The pendant scorched her hand now, its glow revealing more: eyes glinting in the undergrowth, pairs of them, pale and unblinking. They watched from the shadows, multiplying as she turned. A low chuckle joined the whispers, dry as dead leaves. It came from above, in the oak branches she had not noticed before, thick with unnatural foliage.
She bolted towards what she hoped was the exit, feet pounding the earth. But the ground shifted under her, soil softening into mud that sucked at her boots. She stumbled, catching herself on a stone. Its surface writhed, patterns coiling like serpents. The chuckle descended, closer, accompanied by the rustle of something large moving through the flowers.
Panic sharpened her thoughts. Out-of-the-box thinking had saved her before – from Evan's rages, from the tedium of pre-law lectures. She gripped the pendant tighter, willing it to guide her out as it had in. But its warmth pointed deeper, towards the centre, not the boundary. Betrayal? Or a deeper truth?
A hand – or what felt like one – grazed her ankle, cold fingers wrapping briefly before retreating. She yelped, kicking free. The eyes advanced now, emerging from shadows into half-forms: silhouettes with elongated necks, fingers ending in thorns. They did not attack, only encircled, herding her back to the depression.
The whispers coalesced into a voice, ancient and layered. "Stay... secrets await..." It pulled at her mind, tempting with visions: her father's hidden cases, her mother's silenced lore, the benefactor's face revealed. She resisted, clamping down on the intrusion. The pendant flared brighter, illuminating the entities fully for a split second – pale skin stretched over bone, mouths stretched in grins too wide.
She ran again, dodging grasping stems. The boundary stones loomed ahead at last, but as she neared, a figure materialised between them: taller than the others, crowned with antler-like branches, eyes burning with the same crimson as her pendant. It extended a hand, beckoning.
Aurora skidded to a halt, chest heaving. The grove's air pressed heavier, time's distortion twisting her senses – had minutes passed, or hours? The figure's lips moved, whispers amplifying into a demand. "Give it... return what was taken..."
She clutched the pendant, its heat a brand now. The entities closed in, their forms solidifying, thorns glinting . One lunged, fingers raking the air inches from her face. She dodged, mind racing for an escape, but the figure blocked the way out, its presence swelling to fill the gap.
Then, from the centre, a rift tore open – a Hel portal, the pendant's true call. Darkness yawned, pulling at her with invisible force. The entities howled, surging forward.