We weren’t rebuffed.
There was a great snap, and the wood splintered, shardsblasting out in a great arc as if the poles had been struck by acannon ball and not a Scotsman’s shoulder.
The chain shattered, too. Max’s magicappeared to do something to it. Eat into it, weaken it in a cascadeof light and crackles.
With a roar splitting from hislips, Max managed topush his way in.
Instantly the musty scent of the warehousemet my already seared nostrils. It smelt like this place hadn’tbeen opened in years.
Though the terror of the chase stillfilled me to the point of popping, I managed to perceive enoughthrough the darkness to contemplate what the hell had been storedin this warehouse.
There were plastic sheets everywhere. AndI do mean everywhere. There were upturned milk crates and old44-gallon drums. And covering them were old, moldering sheets ofthick whitetranslucent plastic.
The plastic was stained in places with somedried up red liquid that looked suspiciously like blood.
No… it didn’t look like blood; it was blood.That’s what that awful metallic smell was.
I didn’t have time to draw a hand up andcram it over my face to block out that godawful realization – Maxabruptly and violently screeched to a standstill.
“Shit, this is a trap!” he bellowed.
My stomach sank so far and hard I couldhave retched.
I could no longer hear that awful,ear-splitting screeching from outside. Instead, I heard silence.Total eerie silence. The kind of silence that felt like it wasticking down to something.
“Max, what's going on?” I stuttered, barelyable to push the words out.
Max didn't answer. He turned hard on his foot, swinging aroundas he appeared to search for something. It couldn't be a way out –as there was one right behind us: the doorway he'd just craftedwith his shoulder.
Yet, a second later, that doorway nolonger existed.
Something rammed into it, closing it shut.Except it wasn't the actual doors that slammed to. Oh no – it wassome enormous gelatinous black mass.
I screamed as soon as I saw it, shudderingfurther back into Max's tight embrace.
I didn't have to point out that I'd neverseen anything like it. Because it was completely impossible. Thewet sound of it was the most awful thing I'd ever heard – a crossbetween someone plunging a drain and some old codger clearing histhroat.
It also stank to high heaven, a crossbetween cloying sulfur and burning nails.
I crammed a hand over my mouth and tried tobreathe through my sweaty fingers.
Max swore again, his brogue shaking down his chest and into myarm.
With wide-open eyes, I stared at theunderside of his face.
It was half dark in this warehouse. Thoughit was a dark, raining night, somehow there was still enough lightmaking it in from the broken windows high above that I could makeout the side of Max's face. In fact, as he twisted on the spot andtilted his head back, I suddenly realized that the roof was brokenin several places, massive gaping holes letting in thewind.
But not the rain.
The holes in the roof weren't just tinycracks. Oh no. It looked as if someone had plunged a wrecking ballthrough the steel and tin.
So there should be rain all over thefloor. Massive pools of it. There wasn't, though. Just thatblood-soaked plastic.
I had zero experience with magic.Absolutely zilch. Apart from the sparks that sometimes invaded myvision and the grass-and-sunshine magic of Max, magic was nothingbut an enigma to me.
Well, now I felt it.
Faint, but there. It was like tinyelectrified pins plucking at my skin and stabbing at the base of myspine.
Max swore once more, his powerful brogue shaking through theroom until I swore the roof shook.
“W-where are we? What's happening?”I managed.
Max didn't answer. He warily moved into the middle of the room,constantly darting his head from left-to-right as he obviouslysearched for a way out.
But there was no way out.
I caught sight of the side of his faceonce more. I'd seen Max act tough, and god knows I'd seen him act indignant. Now? Now he lookedterrified.
“You – you can put me down,” I managed in the world's highestfalsetto.
He didn't answer.
“Max,” I forced myself to say, “you needyour arms.”
He jerked his head down to me and made eyecontact for the briefest fraction of a second. I looked right up athim, making no attempt to hide the tears of fear touching mycheeks, and yet making no attempt to retract my offer, either.
“Aye,” he muttered, word snapped like a sapling suddenly bucklingunder excessweight.
He put me down. It was a quick and yetgentle move. My mind wanted to suggest that that summed up Maxcompletely, yet my reason couldn't forget his anger andarrogance.
Or could it? Because right now Max was theonly force capable of keeping me safe.
I had to use all my balance and strength notto fall over the moment he put me down. It wasn't because the floorwas covered in that sickly stained plastic. It was that I felt soweak my muscles may as well have been dried up jelly.
“Keep close,” Max warned, voice shaking through me.
I pushed into his back. He probably hadn'tmeant that close, but I couldn't help myself. He didn't push meaway, either, just kept spinning on the spot as he desperatelysearched for a way out.
But a way out didn't come.
I saw several sparks collect to the rightof my vision. I jerked my head up just in time to see someindistinct formclimbing along the brokenwindows.
“Max.” I latched a hand on his arm andjerked him backward, pointing towards the windows.
Despite the distance, I saw the eyes. The red eyes thatreminded me of those devilish glowing pinpricks I'd seen outside of my bedroom window.
“Shit!” Max roared. “Darklings.”
My back seized up on that word, onthe terrifyingway he said it.
Again I caught sight of the side of hisface, and again I was almost bowled over by how terrified heseemed. And if Max the strong magical fairy was terrified, then Iwas a goner.
I kept a hand pressed into hishard back, feeling his muscles practically twangunder my sweaty fingers.
I… had to do something. But I didn't getthe chance to finish that thought.
I saw more of those fiendish red eyes appearnear the windows. Then I heard the
