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“That... makes absolutely no sense.” My brain refused to cope with this new information.
“No?” Nic squeezed my shoulder with his hand. “It will, eventually.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” I folded my arms across my chest and hugged myself.
“Maybe both,” he admitted.
Geraint brushed my arm with his. Walking between the two men and following Robby, we left the building as the librarian had requested so she could fix the museum’s fabric. Whatever that meant.
***
After a quick meal, we headed home. We had a lot of planning to do.
I’d drifted off into a troubled sleep, but jerked awake when the car skidded to a halt.
“What?” I murmured sleepily.
“The car stalled.” Robby shoved the gearshift into park and turned off the key, though the van was already quiet. We opened the doors. It was much too hot to sit inside the vehicle with the doors closed while Robby popped the hood.
Geraint walked around us, alert for danger. We’d made it off the interstate and onto one of the back roads that would take us home. I knew where we were at, still about a half an hour from home.
Nic stayed in the van, lurking in the shadows. I sat on the back seat in the shade with the side door slid open and the prince shifted over until he could gently massage my neck.
“Mmmm, feels good,” I murmured.
Robby messed around under the hood for a while before slamming it and trying to start the car again. Nothing. Not even a click.
“What’s wrong?” I mumbled, lulled back to sleepiness by the heat and Nic’s hands on my shoulders.
Geraint came over to my side of the van and put his hand on my leg. I threaded my fingers with his, and he squeezed gently. He’d found a spare shirt and didn’t look quite so much like he’d been in a bar fight now.
“This is trouble,” Robby replied. “I’ve called for a tow, but chances are we’re dealing with another attack. There shouldn’t be anything wrong with the van. It was just serviced.”
We were miles from home, and at least a mile from the nearest farmhouse. A stand of trees marked the beginnings of the more heavily forested region, and the land rolled gently as we approached the mountain range. The temperature had climbed into the nineties, and the humidity beaded sweat on my brow. Insects screamed their summer songs and not much moved in the heat. The cornfield we’d parked by was normal length waist-high corn, and though all three of the Dream beings had eyed it warily, it apparently didn’t bother them as much as the unnatural corn had.
“Ugh. Could they have at least left the air conditioning?” I grumbled.
“Or done this at night,” Nic added softly.
“Yeah, that too.” I put my free hand over his.
With both of my men touching me, I felt grounded and safe. I knew that was an illusion, but it helped a little.
That illusion shattered when Robby sprinted over to our side of the van, grabbed my arm, and tugged. “Let’s go now!”
I let the jester yank me out of the van and urge me into a sprint down the road. Geraint and Nic followed. I didn’t have the breath to ask what was going on, so I just followed, trusting my friend.
Moments later, a massive snap and crackle had us spinning around. The electric pole behind us broke in half and landed on the car.
The booming explosion that followed probably wasn’t what would have happened in normal circumstances, but in this case, the van went up like it was in an action movie. The pressure wave shoved us forward, though we kept to our feet.
“Fuck,” Robby snarled. “I liked that van.”
“Please tell me we hadn’t loaded any of the gear yet,” I gasped, completely and somewhat unreasonably stressed about that. It could be replaced, but still...
“We hadn’t,” Robby assured me.
“Oh, good.” That was something, anyway.
