Nick was vaguely aware of consciousness. And pain. Oh Christ, so much pain. He couldn't see or hear or sense anything, the pain was so overwhelming. Where was he? What had happened? The memories were fuzzy, and he couldn't quite think at the moment. All he could figure out was that his arms were up above his head and his back was against a hard surface.
The first thing he managed was opening his eyes. The light was dim, but he adjusted to it quickly. He was looking up at a wooden ceiling. Exposed beams. Old, dusty. He glanced around and thought he must be in some kind of shed or maybe a cabin.
Next, he tried to move. Something between a whimper and a cry of pain fell from his lips without his meaning it to. Hurt too much to move. No more moving. Every breath was agony, which made him think he might have a cracked rib or three. His arms over his head couldn't move either. With a little more concentration, he figured out he was shackled with what were likely standard police-issue handcuffs. The metal was cold and heavy on his wrists. The scraping sound when he did try to move seemed to indicate that the handcuffs were chained to something else.
Nick closed his eyes again, resigning himself to being unable to do anything about his predicament now. He tried to think back and remember. What was the last thing that happened to him before he blacked out? Graham Procter had been arrested for perverting the course of justice—he'd not killed Tahnee, she'd fallen down the stairs and hit her head by accident, and his bashing her head with the golf club hadn't actually killed her, he'd just lied to police and ensured Dane Majors got framed.
Bloody Dane Majors. He was out there, somewhere, free from prison and full of vindictive rage. And even though he hadn't killed his wife, Nick knew what that man had done to Josh, Queen Bernice's boy. A man like Dane Majors doesn't outgrow atrocities like that. Maybe some people could, but not Dane.
To think, Nick had been considering even apologizing to the man. But Jen had—
Jennifer. Jennifer had told him she loved him and kissed him on the doorstep before flying away, leaving him to his thoughts. What had happened after that? Nick couldn't remember. Jennifer was the last thing he remembered. He must have…
The fuzziness of his mind conjured up being in the street in front of the house to take the bins out when car headlights had flooded the road. A screech of brakes and then nothing. The car must have hit him. That would explain the ribs and the blackout. But Jesus, how long ago had that been? And where was he now?
A sound cut through the punishing silence. Sound of keys. Latch of a lock. Squeak of a door hinge. Heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.
Water splashed down on Nick's face, making him turn his head and cough as it got in his nose and mouth and down his airway. The sound of laughter rang through Nick's ears.
"Good morning, Buchanan," came the sneering voice. "Well, not so much morning. Nearly lunchtime now. You've been out for almost three days. Glad you came 'round. I was getting' lonely here. Ya see, I've been busy at out in the woods. Been lookin' forward to you coming out with me."
"Dane," Nick said hoarsely.
"Oh you don't need to talk," Majors replied. His tone hovered right between genial and threatening.
But Nick tried to continue, "I don't…"
He was rewarded with a swift kick in the ribs from Dane's boot. "I said, you don't need to talk!"
Nick moaned in pain. Surely that had broken more ribs or else shattered the ones that had already been cracked. There was a taste of blood and bile in Nick's mouth.
When Dane seemed satisfied that Nick wasn't going to try to talk again, he walked away, picked up something that sounded like a bottle, and Nick heard the telltale sound of a beer cap being popped off. Dane walked by and Nick could see him taking a healthy swig. He put it down on the table beside a ratty old sofa. Then he returned to Nick. "Let's get you up, shall we?"
Dane lifted Nick under the arms and propped him up into a slumped seated position against a pillar where the handcuffs were chained behind him. Nick yelled in pain the whole time until Dane left him be and he could quiet back down, whimpering with every breath.
There was a look of barely contained madness in Dane's face. He sat down on the sofa and took another sip of beer before addressing Nick again. "You know, I spent a lot of time talking to you over the last ten years. Wanted you to know what I was going through. What you did to me. Now, I know it wasn't just you. It was that prosecutor Lombardi. It was Alan Sullivan and his newspaper making the public think I was guilty even before the first trial. It was my lawyer for not letting me testify for myself. It was that judge for letting that planted evidence in at the second trial. It was all of you. But when we first met that night, you were nice to me. I thought you were on my side, like you were a lad I could turn to. And then you arrested me and turned my life into a living hell. I lost my wife and all my friends and my career and my freedom and my dignity. And you all just got to be out there living your lives while I was buried alive for ten bloody years!" he shouted.
But he turned away from Nick and took another drink of beer, forcing himself to calm down. He was staring straight ahead, unseeing, taking a couple deep breaths.
When Dane turned back to Nick, the madness was now clear as day in his eyes. "I was gonna get my revenge. I was gonna kill every last one of you and save you, Buchanan, for last. I was gonna make you suffer like I did, getting buried alive. But when I went by your house to watch you, I saw the strangest thing. You know what I saw? I think you do. I think you know that I saw your girlfriend stand on the porch of your house kiss you and then disappear. But before she disappeared, you know what I saw? I saw her wings. I saw her flap those wings and fly about a foot in the air before disappearing in the blink of an eye. You've got yourself a fairy, mate, and now you're gonna help me out."
A cold chill consumed Nick, temporarily numbing the agony of his body. This was the nightmare. Not the revenge on the people who put Dane in prison. That was something the police could handle just fine. But the fairy realm was a different matter altogether. He had no way of warning Jen or the others unless someone came to him. And Nick had no idea where he was, so how could they?
Dane started chuckling as he down the last of the beer. "It's funny, I'd almost forgotten about the fairies. See, I used to be in these woods all the time when I was a kid. I met one once, a boy about my age. We were about twelve or so. I taught him how to play cricket. He showed me his wings and his magic. His were like big green see-through leaves, not like your fairy. Hers are bigger and golden, maybe, couldn't quite tell by the light."
He stood up and started pacing as he digressed but quickly go back to his vicious tale.
"But my little fairy friend, his name was Josh. And he was a good laugh for a while. Till I asked him if I could see the realm and see more magic and he said no. Then he avoided me, the little prick. What sort of friend is that, eh Buchanan?" Dane demanded, leaning in to Nick's face, almost at eye level. "What sort of friend hides things like that?"
Dane stood back up and went back to pacing.
"So I decided I'd make him tell me. I'd make him take me there and give me the magic he wouldn't share. When he came back, telling me he snuck out after his mum told him not to come, I caught him. Magic wasn't any bloody good to him then. Tied him to a tree and made him tell me, and you know what he said? He said the magic was in his wings, and I could have them if I left him and his fairy realm alone. So I took them," Dane said with a shrug, as though it were nothing. As though ripping appendages off a young boy, a friend, were nothing. "Only once I took the wings home, they didn't bloody work! By the time I went back to where I left Josh to make him tell me how to make them work, he was gone. Oh I was bloody pissed off after that, trying to find that portal to get into the realm or find another fairy, but I never did. Never saw one again. Till I saw yours."
The evil grin on Dane's face was more than enough to strike even more fear into Nick's heart. Dane was after the fairies, just as Queen Bernice and Sir Terry worried. Nick would do all he could to protect them, he knew. He vowed it to himself, since no one else was there to know. But even if he ended up dead and bleeding in the woods like Josh, Nick—like Josh—would die protecting the realm and all the fairies from discovery.
