AI Aurora Carter slipped between the ancient oak standing stones that bordered the hidden clearing, her boots crunching on fallen leaves that shouldn't have been there in the midst of year-round blooms. The Fae Grove stretched out before her, wildflowers dotting the ground in patches of color that defied the night. She had come here seeking answers, the Heartstone Pendant around her neck tugging her forward with its persistent warmth , the deep crimson gem a beacon she could no longer ignore.
Her fingers traced the silver chain, the metal cool against her skin despite the stone's heat. Richmond Park lay far behind, the city lights a distant memory. This pocket of land felt cut off from everything familiar . The air pressed in, thick and motionless. No breeze rustled the leaves. That was the first sign. Parks always carried some wind, even at night.
She took another step. The ground gave way under her weight in places, soft and uneven. Bright blue eyes darted from one shadow to the next. The standing stones loomed at the edges, their surfaces etched with patterns that seemed to shift when she looked directly . Her shoulder-length black hair fell across her face, and she tucked it behind an ear with a quick motion.
The pendant pulsed stronger now, a rhythm that matched her quickening pulse . Why had she followed it here? The unknown benefactor who left it for her offered no instructions. Yet the warmth had intensified as she neared Richmond, as if drawn to this very spot.
A faint sound reached her. Like a sigh. She froze, head tilted. The noise stopped. Only silence remained. Her left wrist ached, the small crescent-shaped scar from that childhood fall reminding her of old pains. She rubbed at it absently.
This place promised isolation. No one came to the grove after dark. Friends warned her against it, tales of people who entered and emerged hours later with days missing from their lives. She dismissed them then. Now the stories resurfaced in her mind.
She advanced toward the center, where a cluster of flowers formed a ring. Their petals shimmered, whites and reds and blues too bright for moonlight alone. Her breath came in short bursts. The temperature dropped without warning, a chill that seeped through her jacket.
Another sound. This one sharper, a crack like a branch underfoot. Aurora spun toward it. The flowers there stood still. No animal darted away. Nothing broke the stillness.
Show yourself.
The words faded into the trees without reply. She waited. The pendant flared hot against her chest, then cooled just as fast. Not a Hel portal, she reminded herself, but something else entirely . The Fae energy here twisted everything.
Leaves on a nearby bush trembled . She watched them. No wind. The movement ceased after a moment. Her eyes strained to catch more. At the edge of her vision, something flickered , a shape that vanished when she turned.
She walked the perimeter, keeping the standing stones in sight. The boundary felt important, a line not to cross back too soon. Time in this place played tricks. An hour inside might stretch or shrink outside. She checked her watch . The hands had stopped.
Figures.
The certainty grew that eyes tracked her every move. Not from one direction. From all around. The grove encircled her, the flora swaying in patterns that formed paths where none existed before.
She stopped at a particular stone, larger than the rest. Runes or what looked like them glowed faintly, then dimmed. She reached out a hand, stopped short. Touching might invite something.
A whisper tickled her ear, too soft to make out words. She jerked away, hand flying to the side of her head. The scar on her wrist caught the light, pale against her skin.
Memories of Evan flashed unbidden, his angry shouts, the way he cornered her in their old flat. She shook them off. That life stayed in Cardiff. London brought new starts, the delivery job at Golden Empress, the flat above the bar. This trip to the grove tied to none of that, or so she thought.
The pendant tugged downward, as if pulled by an invisible string. She followed its lead, stepping over a bed of flowers that released a sweet scent, cloying in the enclosed space.
Another snap, this time behind her. She whirled. Shadows pooled between the trees, deeper than they should be. A figure? No, just the dark playing tricks.
Her breathing grew ragged. She forced it to even out. Cool head, that's what she needed. Out-of-the-box thinking had saved her before.
Anyone there? I don't want trouble.
The call hung in the air . No answer came. Instead, the flowers to her right bent in a wave, as if a hand brushed over them. The motion traveled across the clearing, stopping at the opposite side.
Aurora backed up a pace. Her foot caught on a root, and she steadied herself against a stone. The rock felt warm, pulsing in time with the pendant.
Sounds multiplied. Rustles from multiple spots. Whispers overlapped, forming a chorus she couldn't decipher. They spoke in tones that reminded her of wind through cracks, yet no wind blew.
She scanned the area again. Movement at the corner of her eye. She looked, saw nothing. Turned the other way, caught a blur low to the ground, gone in an instant.
The isolation pressed on her. No phone signal here, she knew. The pocket realm cut off modern connections. She had come for a reason, to understand the pendant's pull, to find who gave it to her. Now that reason felt foolish.
The wildflowers closed in somehow, their stems taller than before. She pushed through a patch, petals brushing her legs like fingers.
A laugh echoed , faint and distant. Or did it? She questioned her ears. The sound didn't repeat.
Her wrist scar burned now, a sharp reminder . She clutched it, the pendant swinging free and casting a faint inner glow on the ground.
More shapes danced at the periphery. Tall ones, short ones. They circled without approaching directly. The certainty settled in her bones. She was not alone. Whatever shared this space with her had no intention of showing itself fully.
She turned in a slow circle, eyes wide. The standing stones seemed closer, the boundary shrinking. Time stretched, each second dragging.
Leave me be.
Her voice sounded small in the vastness. The whispers paused, then resumed louder. They formed syllables almost recognizable, her name twisted in the mix.
Rory.
She backed toward the center again, heart slamming against her ribs. The pendant burned hot enough to sting. She yanked it off, held it in her palm. The crimson stone shone brighter, illuminating veins in the gem she hadn't noticed before.
The ground trembled lightly under her feet. Not an earthquake, something more deliberate. Footsteps from below? The idea sent ice through her veins.
She pocketed the pendant to dull its light. Darkness enveloped her more completely . Now the movements were harder to track, but she sensed them nearer.
A breath brushed her neck, warm and moist. She slapped at the spot. Nothing there. Her skin crawled.
This wrongness had built from the first step inside. The quiet too perfect , the flowers too alive, the shadows too active. Now it peaked without release.
She crouched low, scanning . Her black hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. Bright blue eyes reflected what little light remained.
The whispers grew coherent for a flash. Words in a language she didn't know , yet they carried threat.
She stood up fast. Ran a few steps toward the stones, then stopped. Exiting now might trap her in the time warp, days lost while minutes passed.
The edge of vision filled with activity. Forms flitted between flowers, low and quick. Others stood still, watching.
Aurora's hands clenched into fists . The scar on her wrist stood out white. She needed a plan, something clever to turn this around.
Another sound, closer. A footfall , distinct this time. She faced it. A flower stem snapped in half without visible cause.
Her breath caught. The presence filled the grove now, all around her, closing the distance in increments.
She spoke again, defying the fear.
What do you want from me?
The response came not in words but in a shift of the air, a collective inhale from the unseen .
She moved toward a different cluster of stones, the ones marking the far side of the clearing where the oak stood thicker and the flowers grew in tighter knots. Each placement of her foot sent small tremors through the soil that echoed back in odd delays. The pendant in her pocket throbbed against her thigh, its heat penetrating the fabric of her jeans. She pulled it out again and the crimson light spilled across the ground, picking out details she wished she hadn't seen. Tiny indentations in the earth formed lines that mirrored her own path from minutes earlier.
The watch on her wrist caught her attention next. Its hands now spun backward in steady circles, the mechanism clicking audibly in the quiet. She shook her arm but the motion continued. Time folding in on itself. An hour here might strip away a day from her life in the city, or add one she could never reclaim.
Evan used to mock her for chasing strange leads like this. He called her ideas reckless, his voice rising until the walls of their Cardiff flat shook. She pushed the recollection down, focusing instead on the way the flowers responded to her presence. Petals turned toward her as she passed, tracking her like sunflowers to light, yet the night held no sun.
Laila.
The name drifted from nowhere, one of her old aliases from the early days after she ran. Then Malphora, whispered in a tone that stretched the syllables into something mocking. Her aliases, pulled from whatever listened. The knowledge that it knew these pieces of her fed the tension coiling tighter in her chest.
She veered left, aiming for open ground between two large stones. A rustle followed her exact movement, matching the pace. When she halted, the rustle continued two steps further before stopping. Imitation. The realization landed like a stone in still water, ripples spreading through her thoughts.
Her fingers tightened on the pendant until the chain dug into her palm. The glow revealed more footprints appearing beside her own, smaller and barefoot, pressing into the soil without weight behind them. They matched her direction but veered off at the last moment, disappearing into a patch of white blooms that folded shut as the marks arrived.
Aurora circled back toward the center, her path crossing old ground. The air grew denser, carrying the metallic taste that coated her tongue. She swallowed against it. The scar on her wrist pulsed in time with the pendant, the old childhood wound from when she fell against her father's desk during one of his shouting matches with her mother. The memory arrived uninvited, the feel of blood on her skin, the way Jennifer had pressed a cloth to it while Brendan paced.
Another touch grazed her elbow this time, gone before she could react. She swung her arm through the empty space. The whispers returned, layered now with the sound of fabric shifting, like clothes on a body moving just out of sight.
The standing stones had moved closer together. She noted the change in their positions, the boundary contracting around the clearing. Her escape route narrowed with each glance. The flowers that bloomed year round began to dip their heads, petals curling inward as if preparing for a storm that never came .
She spoke her friend's name aloud, grasping for something solid.
Eva would tell me to get out now.
No echo answered. The words dropped into the space and vanished. In their place came the distinct sound of breathing, multiple sets drawing air in unison, then releasing it. The rhythm settled near her left shoulder before sliding around to her back.
Her legs carried her faster, boots kicking up petals that swirled in patterns too organized to blame on chance. The pendant slipped in her grip and she caught it against her chest. Its warmth spread through her shirt, matching the flush rising on her neck.
The movements at the edges grew bolder. Blurs resolved into outlines for fractions of heartbeats, forms that suggested height and reach before dissolving back into flower and shadow. They circled in a tightening ring, the certainty of their presence now absolute. She counted at least five distinct sources of sound, each one mimicking elements of her own motion with increasing accuracy.
The ground softened further under her next steps, sucking at her boots with wet sounds that belonged to marshes, not this London park. She yanked one foot free and the effort left her panting. The watch in her pocket ticked louder, its backward spin accelerating.
Names continued to drift from the air around her. Carter. Aurora. Each utterance carried a different voice, some familiar , others entirely alien. The effect clawed at her composure, her usual quick thinking fractured by the constant sensory game.
A stem snapped directly in front of her face. She jerked backward, nearly losing balance. The broken flower fell to the ground and its petals scattered in the shape of a handprint. She stared at it until the windless air scattered the pieces.
The presence pressed in from every direction at once. Sounds of footsteps grew heavier, no longer content with the edges. They advanced across the flower beds, bending stems in waves that converged on her position. Her bright blue eyes tracked each new line of motion, her black hair damp against her temples.
She held the pendant out like a ward, its crimson light cutting through the darkness in a widening circle. For a moment the advance halted. Then the light flickered and the sounds resumed, closer than before. A breath ghosted across her cheek.
Aurora planted her feet and faced the nearest source of movement. The scar on her wrist stood raised and livid against her skin. Her voice cut through the whispers with forced steadiness.
I know you're there. Show yourselves.