The Goblets Immortal by Beth Overmyer (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

worked, how he could feel objects’ Pulls, how he couldn’t really feel iron, and how everything in the nymph’s camp was insubstantial, except maybe the wood that kept their fires going. “It’s almost like nothing here is real.”

“Oh, it’s real.” Slaíne gave her bonds a tug to illustrate the point. With a grunt she stopped. Her wrists were now bleeding, indicating she’d been working on getting free for a while. “Do you have any weapons on you?”

Aidan felt for his cache in Nothingness, but to his surprise and horror, everything was gone. It wasn’t that he enjoyed his abilities. They were useful and served a purpose when they had to. But he’d become reliant on them. Too reliant. And with nothing in Nothingness, his hopes of escaping these fiends looked slim. “My weapons are missing.”

Slaíne bit her lower lip. “Well, at least they left us alive, yeah?”

That might be good enough for her, but Aidan was not used to being bound to something or someone. Freedom was another thing he’d taken for granted, it would seem. Again he looked at her wrists and frowned. “Why are you chained up, and I’m free to move about?”

“Dunno,” she said a little too quickly, without quite meeting his gaze.

The music outside their enclosure took a wilder turn, and shrieks of laughter filled the air, causing Aidan’s hairs to stand on end. He narrowed his eyes at Slaíne. That is when he noticed the caked blood on her fingernails. He smirked. “I assume the blood I’m seeing isn’t all yours?”

Nonchalant, she shrugged. “Might’ve done.”

“So, they can be wounded.”

Slaíne laughed without humor. “’Course they can. All livin’ things can. But these creatures heal real fast.”

Aidan swore. If he had nothing to Summon and nothing to Call, and if he couldn’t do much damage to their captors, what was left to be done? He could make a break for it himself, but that would mean leaving the girl behind, which was not a gentlemanly thing to do, so he at once dismissed the idea.

“We need to find out what they are.”

“Hmm?”

“I said we need to find out what they are. Every being has a weakness.” She paused to sniff. “We gotta find theirs and take advantage.”

Aidan raised his eyebrows at her. “What do you know of nymphs?”

If Slaíne wondered how he knew what they were, she didn’t let on. “Well, they like light, I s’pose.”

Aidan nodded. “It would seem they were made of light, from what I’ve seen of them.” He scratched his chin. “We aren’t being guarded very closely.”

“Arrogance, ya think?”

He shrugged. “Possibly.”

The music slowed to an eerie waltz, and the talking all but ceased. Perhaps it was foolish, the thoughts Aidan was thinking; perhaps his impulse was wrong. Whatever the case, he knew he had to explore the camp and see what they had been snatched up into. “I’ll return shortly.” He crawled toward the mouth of their enclosure, only to receive a kick in the trousers. “What?”

There was a pause. “Be – be careful.”

Aidan smiled to himself and went on his way, leaving the comfort of her Pull behind. It tugged at him frantically as he left her, but he ignored it as best he could and went to listen and observe.

The few beings he saw were translucent when he looked at them full-on, but appeared to be of no substance when he squinted or looked at them from the corner of his eye. To his relief and frustration, they ignored him. He must not appear to be a threat.

As he walked, Aidan continued to feel for Pulls, and continued to feel very little. He tried Calling a jug of water to himself, and nothing happened. The farther he walked around tables and beds and blankets, the more he understood about their captors. They were creatures of comfort. They must want for nothing. And, as far as he could see, they carried no weapons, meaning they were arrogant, ignorant, or relied on magic or some other skill to defend themselves. As far as how many of them there were: now, that was a perplexing problem. Though he’d seen around a dozen of the translucent beings, he heard many more, and the closer he traveled to the bonfires, the more he could see. There had to be at least one hundred of them dancing around and through the flames, which seemed to give them more substance. Aidan wondered what this could mean, but stored that problem away for later. He turned and went in the opposite direction. There were more bonfires and more dancing nymphs. It was then that he realized that he and Slaíne were ringed in.

With a muttered oath, he took to pacing, stopping only when he realized he might draw unwanted attention to himself. Perhaps he would not have been so irritable if he were not so thirsty. As it was, his throat was raw and dry, as if he’d been eating ash, and he could produce no saliva to swallow. And as soon as he realized the extent of his thirst, the more intense it became. Without a second thought, he approached one of the food-laden tables and snatched up a jug. It was an odd sensation, feeling it in his hand without feeling its Pull in his gut. It didn’t matter. He put his mouth to the vessel and drank deeply of the coldest, sweetest water he’d ever tasted.

“Mm,” he said, setting the empty jug aside. Shame hit him that he hadn’t saved any for Slaíne. Flushed, he found another pitcher and brought it back to where she was waiting.

“What’d you find out?” she asked as he ducked back into the enclosure. Before he could answer, she frowned at him. “What’ve you got?”

He grinned. The water which had gone down cold was spreading warmth throughout his limbs, making him happier than he had been in ages. “Here, drink some.” He went to put it to her lips, but she jerked her head away.

“What’re you thinkin’?” she said. “Could be