Chapter 51

With each stall we pass the Fae look at us with wary eyes, some turn away while others look at us accusingly. After an hour, Chris declares it is time to leave. We head straight to a portal. We land on some slippery rocks. My feet slide, and I struggle to keep my balance. Just as my feet slide from under me, that feeling of insects crawling over me takes over.
We land behind a large tree trunk in what looks like a large park.
“Where are we?” I ask looking around. I thought New York was high buildings with thunderous noise with lots of people milling around.
“We are in Central Park. Come on, let’s get to the black market.” We stroll slowly through the park and as we follow the path the tips of the tall buildings come into view.
I look sideways at Chris, who is rubbing his forehead.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, placing my hand on his shoulder.
“Nothing!” He says, but I can tell by the distant look in his eyes that he is lying, something’s wrong.
We walk into a well built-up area. The streets are jam packed with people and vehicles. The sudden noise causes my ears to buzz slightly. The overwhelming throng of the crowd brings a new fear of being lost or separated. I grip onto his hand. He looks down at me and smiles as we make our way through the busy streets.
We hop on a bus and eventually arrive at a rundown part of town. Homeless people scatter the streets, their clothes grubby and faded. Some stand with trolleys filled with their worldly possessions. Many stands around a small fire pit. The rest sit on the cold, damp floor staring at us with pleading eyes as we pass. Some of them have damp and torn cardboard boxes to sit on, but most sit on the cold damp concrete ground.
My heart goes out to them. The little things in life that I take for granted, like a hot cup of tea and a nice hot bath or shower. These people would give anything for.
One man grabs my elbow with his sickly thin hand. “You are the only one who can save us,” he says. “Close the portal or all will be lost.”
I spin around and recoil. The man staring at me is the man from the bookstore where I was attacked.
“Heed my warning, Earth will become Hell. Close the portal.” He keeps repeating this. The whites of his eyes cover his iris as they seem to sink further into his head.
Suddenly, the man is in the air. Chris has hold of him by the throat and through gritted teeth says, “What are you talking about old man?”
The man physically shakes and chants the same words. “Close the portal, close the portal.”
“Chris, come on let’s just get out of here, it’s obvious he’s either not going to or is unable to tell us anything,” I say, feeling both creeped out and shocked by it all. Why would the old man from the bookstore be in a dirty alley surrounded by the homeless in the middle of New York City? The questions sit on the tip of my tongue. But one look at the dazed man tells me my questions will fall on deaf ears. I accept that it’s just another question with no visible answer.
Once we leave the alley, I breathe a sigh of relief. A few minutes later we pass through a pink mist. My nerves stand on end, goosebumps erupt over my body, and tiny pinpricks attack my skin.
“That was a veil keeping the market hidden from human eyes,” Chris answers before I ask the question.
We walk from stall to stall, all stocked with an abundance of charms, potions, and medicines. Enchanted items to bring luck, and love and fortune. We stop at a stall with a variety of hand-carved wooden objects.
A muscular man with a dark beard and black hair greets us. “What can I do for you two?”
Chris hands him the box. “Did you make this?” he asks in a cold voice.
“Aye, indeed, I did, lad. I made this for a very beautiful blue-eyed woman. A gift for her daughter.” He looks at the box with pride.
Chris looks at him expectantly. “Can you tell me anything more about it?”
“These kinds of boxes are made to keep secrets. Only the owner of the box can reveal them,” he says, handing the box back to Chris.
“Well, that helped loads—not,” I say sarcastically. The hope for any answers slips further away. We still know nothing of the king's plans and have new questions.
A black mist suddenly surrounds us and then evaporates as quickly as it came, leaving behind a man that looks like a Viking. His long, greasy brown hair hangs past his shoulders, and he wears black trousers and leather boots. His chest is bare and what teeth he has are yellow. The black-market fades away as he steps closer to us. I can’t help myself and move back in fear and surprise.
Tilting his head to the side, he gives us a lopsided grin. Then he claps his hands together, and huge spiders appear out of nowhere. They are that big I can see the hairs on their legs. The spiders move fast, toward us.
Terrified, I scream. The spiders leap into the air and dive straight at us. Flinging one arm over my face, I use the other hand to knock the spiders away. Needle-like pain stabs my arms and legs as the spiders take chunks out of my skin. I shake my body, frantically trying to keep them at bay.
My body tingles all over, and my surroundings turn black. The dizzy feeling disappears. I open my eyes and to my surprise, I find myself looking into a deep black hole. Then I see Cole.
“Cole…W-what are you doing here? Wherever here is?”
“There is no time to explain, we have to go.” He grips my arm, just as numerous light blue orbs appear, and my surroundings become visible. The alleyway leads to a dead end between two large yellow dumpsters. Chris forms and stands with his arms crossed and with dagger-like eyes. He stares at Cole with a burning hatred.
I step away. A few lone spiders crawl over his shoulders. I brush myself down. A large spider drops onto my shoe. I let out a loud shriek and step further away, doing a crazy dance.
Both the boys look at me in amusement. I smile trying to hide my embarrassment.
“You had better explain what is going on, and quick, Cole,” Chris demands.
Cole looks at the ground. “My father has sent the Order of Terror after her.”
Chris mumbles a curse under his breath and clenches his hands into fists. I watch them both cautiously, waiting for the explosion. Cole and Chris both have fiery personalities.
“Why are you here?” Chris demands of Cole, who is still refusing to make eye contact.
“I came to warn and help her,” Cole says in a small voice that’s most unlike his usual deep booming voice.
I step closer to the two boys. Both look like the world is going to crash down on the mat any minute.
“What is the Order of Terror?” I ask shyly. The looks on their faces make me nervous.
“The order is made up of three demons; one can make your worst fears come to life. Another can play with your dreams and inflict pain and terror on your subconscious mind while you sleep. The third can bring your nightmares to life, where only you can see and be hurt by the dream.” Cold shivers run down my spine, becoming more intense with each word Cole speaks. My nightmares will haunt me once again.
“Let’s get out of here before another one shows up,” Chris says reaching for my hand.
A large log cabin appears before us, with a large wrap around deck area.
“Get lost, Cole!” Chris shouts as Cole appears beside us. I look at Cole and see his sad and unsure face.
“Please, I have come to help.” He stands straight, puffing out his chest ready for a fight, but clearly not wanting one.
Chris steps forward in a challenging manner. I step between them to stop the fighting before it can start.
“He wants to help us, Chris. What’s so wrong with that?”
“He is Lucifer’s son, the son of the Devil, does that do not mean anything to you?” He looks very agitated
“Well, I trust him, and I believe he wants to help.” I give Cole a small reassuring smile. “Never once did he use any kind of threatening behavior towards me at the castle. I believe he is a good person and is doing what he feels is right.”
“Huh, he has most likely been sent by his father to take you back, we cannot trust him.” Chris’s eyes search mine for understanding. I turn away from him to gather my thoughts. I know Cole could be trying to deceive me, but he hasn’t once given me a reason to doubt him.
“He’s never lied to me or used or abused me in any way. The way I see it, I have more reason to trust him than I do you.” That clearly hurt, because Chris turns away and stomps off into the large cabin. My hearts drop, and I instantly regret my words. It had come out sharper and nastier than I intended.