The crystal ball still showed “the quickest way to reach Titus safely.” I followed it, pushing through brambles. They slid along the enchanted fabric of my gown with an eerie zipping sound but cut the backs of my hands. Blood welled out of the little scratches, drawing hordes of insects. Apparently, I did not need to be angry for them to sip my blood, once it was spilt. Or perhaps my frustration with the brambles was enough to make me vulnerable to the locals.Like the barghests Mab and I had fought in the warehouse, which now seemed like an eon ago, the insects drew substance from my blood. Human blood granted solidity to creatures of the spirit world when they drank it, which is why the ancients were always feeding it to ghosts whom they called up from the underworld. The insects that supped off my bleeding scrapes became so solid that they could then bite my face and ears.The carpet of peat beneath my feet rose and fell occasionally, as if something moved beneath it. I began to feel exposed.
