CHAPTER 63

"Okay, they're afraid of light, but I have no idea what to do." She told him after sending a shade with dagger teeth back into the woods. It was a struggle to keep up with Mike. If not for the fact that he was pulling her, he would have long ago vanished.

"Keef ooving," he said around the flashlight, chasing off another cloud of birds. They had clearly stumbled into a nest of whatever these things were. Sofia had made her memorize a list of common faerie creatures before they left, but she didn't remember anything about evil birds.

They broke into a tiny clearing, and a small building was illuminated briefly by the light in Mike's mouth. It was an old shed, covered in moss and creeper vines and built into the side of a hill. He shoved the door open with his elbow and pulled her inside. She shined her light across the room while he shut the door and put his back to it. The building was still in one piece, and was full of abandoned farm implements.

The shrieks from outside rose in volume, and a heavy weight slammed against the door.

Beth let go of his hand and ran to the other side of the shed, looking for something to help.

When another impact hit the door, Mike spit his flashlight into his empty hand. "Nobody's home!" he shouted, shining his light over his shoulder.

"Here!" Beth returned with a shovel, which she used to shore up the door. The shed was small enough that it was easy for her to drag over a table and a small pile of firewood, doing her best to wedge it in place where she could.

The shadows howled at them from outside, and Beth switched places with Mike so that he could push a large barrel she had been unable to move across the dusty wooden floor. It was heavy, and made a loud scraping sound as it traveled across the shed. Once pushed into place, the door wiggled no more than half an inch when the spirits slammed into it.

"This is not what I expected," he muttered, then turned off his cellphone and put it back in his pocket. He sat down and leaned against the wall.

"I'm curious what you were expecting," Beth said when she slumped down next to him.

He chuckled. "A lot more glitter, fewer evil birds. Any ideas?"

She shook her head. "None. You have no idea how glad I am that you found this place."

He patted his belly. "Felt like I was going to puke back there. Those things meant us so much harm, it was nearly overwhelming, so I followed the path with the least amount of queasiness." Mike stood the flashlight on end, letting the glow light the shed. Beth's hair was already out of place, and she had a scratches along her arms and cheeks. "Were those from the branches?"

"Nope." She showed him her bicep. The scratches came in patterns of three. "I felt like an idiot whipping my phone back and forth while trying to keep up with you. Glad I didn't wear heels."

"Do you think I should have thrown my buttons at them?" He pulled the buttons from his pocket. "Dana was doubtful they would do anything, and now so am I."

Beth let out a deep breath. "You ever eaten a handful of nuts? I knew this girl in college who ended up in the hospital because someone handed her a peanut butter cookie. You just have to think of our faerie defenses as allergens, or something like that."

"Do people allergic to buttons use velcro?" He held up one of the buttons. "I actually have a vial of glitter on me. Might toss it out there and see—"

The walls rattled, and he pictured the shadows crashing into the shed from all open sides.

"Thank you, Farmer John," he whispered, his eyes on the walls. Though the building was old, it held up to the abuse of the shadows.

The hours passed largely in silence as the shadows beat harmlessly at the sides of the shed. Neither of them was able to sleep, and the sounds finally faded when the light of dawn broke through seams in the wooden planks that made up the wall.

"You think they're gone?" Mike asked, pressing his face against the wood.

"I hope so." Beth rubbed her throat. She was thirsty but had avoided drinking from the water bottle she brought in case they got stuck for much longer.

Both of them watched the forest through the slightly separated slats, and after a good ten minutes of nothing to see, they agreed to unblock the door. Once they were outside, Beth scowled at the large tear in the side of her dress.

"I didn't even think to bring a spare." She let out a miserable sigh.

"Well, let me know if you lose a button. I can help you with that."

"Oh? You carrying a needle and some thread on you?"

"Actually, yeah." He turned to look at her. "Apparently some fae are super obsessive-compulsive. I toss the needle into a field of grass or some hay, and they'll stop to go find it."

"And the thread?"

"Tie some knots in it and they'll want to undo them. Most of my faerie defenses are based around the idea that they just can't leave things alone." He pulled out a small, clear bag with black thread and a pair of needles inside. "We could try and patch your blouse if you want."

She shook her head. They had more important things to do than worry about some holes in her outfit. "Let's try and get our bearings. Maybe get away from here before those things come back."

He nodded, and they wandered. After almost half an hour of walking, the forest woke up, filling with the sounds of birds and insects. After an hour, Beth couldn't help but drink most of her water, she was simply too thirsty.