The Autumn Prince

62. Close to Home

Precious minutes slipped away while we prepared a rescue mission, and each delay, whether it was spent getting dressed or scouring our belongings for weapons that might give us an advantage, felt intentional, as though I was sacrificing Rachel on the altar of my fear. In the end, we climbed into the Jeep with nothing more than a sense of impending doom and the Fferyn. Becca had grabbed the staff, reasoning that the aftermath of any fight with my father would probably require healing.

I tried calling Miss Gold but had to leave a message, and settled for thankingher for everything she'd done. Amy called Finn on my behalf to tell her about our fool's errand, but she didn't pick up either. Notifying our benefactors was a courtesy at best, since even a horde of Fae couldn't stand against my father without horrifying risks. Those that didn't succumb to his malevolent influence were subject to his increased strength, and those powerful enough to hurt him would be exposed to his blood, a threat so potent it had served as his armor for decades.

We had no right to count on our allies in any case. Finn was clever, but the smartassery of a four-foot-ten fox-girl wouldn't add much to that fight. She went out of her way to shield her crew from me, which meant none of them could stand for long against my dad. Despite her apparent strength, Miss Gold must have had good reasons for not ending him in the long years since my mother's death. Surely she wouldn't back down from that confrontation if she'd had a choice.

As we crossed the bridge and passed into the city, I had time to fantasize about a world where my father had been killed by other means. A high-caliber sniper rifle with one of Meg's magic bullets seemed like an obvious answer, but the Fae hadn't had access to a hawthorn tree like mine in ages, and its ash was the secret ingredient. There was certainly a magical solution, but those powerful enough to wield it would need a reason to risk a confrontation. He was strong enough to repel most threats, and smart enough to stay off everyone else's radar—except for Mab, who either believed he still had uses, or that he wasn't worth the effort.

In hindsight, I thought Meg might have been our best help, someone who had casually and repeatedly broken the laws of physics on our behalf, but she worked in runes and jewelry, which took time we didn't have. That left my own power, a barely controllable force that had already proved useless against him, and Rachel's gun, which she'd taken with her. My only advantage was the fact that he couldn't bend me to his will, and even that was only partly true. He'd use the girls against me if I gave him the chance, and then all bets were off.

The college came into view before I was ready. I circled the mall, avoiding Stewart Hall for as long as I dared, telling myself it was to evade detection, but the real reason was a lack of nerve. I still carried wounds from the last time I entered that building, the kind that no healing spell could reach.

I pulled into the lot outside Tory Hall on the far side of the campus while Amy and Katherine gave me regular updates. Rachel was still alive. Her phone was close. While I prepared myself to fight off emotions I couldn't hold back, I was struck with an unnatural calm. Katherine said it was normal, the mind buffering itself against anticipated stress, but I silently disagreed. It felt more like the acceptance of an outcome I couldn't change. We were walking into darkness to save our friend, with little hope that any of us would survive it.

Becca clutched the staff in both hands and Katherine slung Amy's bag over her shoulder as we crossed the quad in determined silence, until a scream cut through the night.

"The dorms," Katherine said and began running in their direction.

"Is it Rachel?" I panted, surprised at how easily I kept up. Katherine shook her head. We soon crossed the street, cleared the dorm's parking lot, then circled the building to find a black haired girl kneeling over someone lying in the grass.