AI The snap echoed, too loud for a broken twig. Rory froze, one boot lifted, pressing it back down with deliberate care. The air in the Fae Grove hung heavy, an unnerving quiet settling around the ancient oak standing stones that marked the perimeter of this pocket realm.
A faint hum vibrated against her skin, the Heartstone Pendant nestled beneath her jumper, growing warmer. She clutched it, the crimson stone pulsing against her palm, its inner glow a faint beat through the wool. It pulled her deeper, past the scattered, year-round wildflowers that looked like forgotten wishes against the darkened earth. The path before her, barely more than a deer trail, twisted into the deeper shadows.
Another sound, a soft rustle, drifted from her left. Something moved, too indistinct to parse, just a fleeting darkness retreating into deeper gloom . Rory shifted her weight , listening. The only audible beat came from her own heart, a dull drum against her ribs. She was not alone. The Grove always felt… peopled, in a way, but this felt watchful, carnivorous.
She continued, each step measured . Her bright blue eyes scanned the shifting silhouette of trees, trying to tease out form from shadow. The scent of damp earth and something cloyingly sweet, like overripe fruit, thickened the air. It tasted metallic on her tongue. Her hand tightened on the pendant, heat radiating from it now, a living ember. It pulsed faster, an urgent thrumming, pulling her towards a cluster of particularly gnarled, massive oaks that towered over the surrounding copse. Their branches, thick as ancient limbs, clawed at the moonless sky.
A thin, reedy laugh drifted from somewhere high above, a sound too light, too airy to be human. It brushed against her ears, dissolving before she could pinpoint its origin. Rory instinctively turned, searching the tangled canopy, but saw nothing except the dark, writhing shapes of branches against the faint starlight. She knew the Grove shifted, time warped within its borders, but never had it felt so actively hostile. This was not the playful, mischievous energy she normally encountered. This was something else. Something older. And colder.
She neared the cluster of ancient oaks. The pendant blazed now, hot against her skin, almost painful. It pulled her towards the largest of the five. Its bark, ancient and scarred, seemed to twist into grimacing faces. A faint, almost imperceptible silver sheen emanated from the base, a subtle shimmer against the rough dark wood. This was it. A Hel portal. She recognised the tell-tale shimmer from the few times she had encountered one, always fleeting , always dangerous, always surrounded by an oppressive stillness that sucked the air from her lungs.
A shadow detached itself from the side of the ancient oak. Not a shadow, not quite. It was taller than any man, impossibly thin, stretched to a grotesque caricature. Its form wavered, like smoke in a breeze, then solidified, taking on a vaguely humanoid shape. It had long, spindly limbs, ending in what looked like oversized, grasping hands . Its head was small, indistinct, but two pinpricks of light glowed with cold, malevolent intelligence.
Rory did not scream. She did not freeze. Her mind, sharp and quick, raced through possibilities. Not Fae. Fae had substance, even when they veiled it. This… this was something else. It was nothing. It was wrong. Her fingers, still clamped around the now-scorching pendant, pulled it free from her jumper. The crimson stone flared, casting a sudden, temporary red light across her face and reflecting in the creature’s glowing eyes.
The creature hissed, a sound like dry leaves skittering across stone, and recoiled, throwing up those too-large hands as if to ward off the light. It was vulnerable. The pendant. It somehow hated the pendant.
"Stay back," Rory commanded, her voice surprisingly steady, though a tremor ran through her arm. She held the pendant out like a shield.
The creature’s vague form solidified, its glowing eyes narrowing to slits. It took a hesitant step back, then another, seeming to test her resolve . The metallic tang in the air grew stronger, laced with the smell of wet earth and something else, something sharp and acrid, like ozone. It stalked around the base of the tree, keeping the thick trunk between them, its movements fluid, unnatural.
Rory pivoted, keeping her eyes fixed on the shifting form. The pendant pulsed , a powerful beat against her hand, radiating heat and a strange, quiet reassurance. It hummed a song she almost understood, a song of warding, of defiance. This was why she had it. This was its purpose. The benefactor who gave it to her had known. They knew about this.
Another shadowy figure detached from the cluster of oaks behind the first, appearing from nowhere, silent as grave air. Then another. And another. Soon, an indistinct semi-circle of these wavering , spindly entities surrounded her , their glowing eyes fixed on the crimson gleam of the Heartstone. They made no sound, but the air grew heavy, thick with their presence, pressing in on her from all sides. The soft whispers started again, not in her ears this time, but inside her head, a babble of alien thoughts, a cold, hungry gnawing.
She backed away slowly , her gaze flitting between the creatures, searching for an opening, a weakness beyond the pendant's light. The Hel portal shimmered at the base of the ancient oak, a faint silver tear in the fabric of the world. It offered a terrifying possibility, a way out, or perhaps, a way further in. A way to whatever dimension these things called home.
The figures closed in, inch by inch, their movements jerky, almost puppet-like. One raised a hand, its impossible fingers stretching, reaching for her . Its glowing eyes flared brighter, hunger writ large in their cold lights. Rory saw the distorted reflection of her own terrified face in those pinpricks of light. The whispers in her head intensified, a cacophony of malice and desire . They wanted the pendant. They wanted *her *.
She gripped the pendant, the heat now searing , and braced herself.