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She was tired. So, so tired. Chelsea didn't know if it had been days, weeks, or months at this point, but she was too tired to fight and run any longer. Honestly, the only reason she could stand right now was through sheer force of will. The crazy woman who had kidnapped her in the first place would scream at her if she let this gate slip shut even a little bit. The man with the cat-like eyes would likely beat her again for it as well. Her nerves were shot, her body was barely able to function. There was no way she wanted to endure any form of punishment if there was a way she could avoid it.
Even so, strength of will could only last for so long and Chelsea feared it was about to run out.
The girl couldn't help the sigh of relief when the burden of the magic flow seemed to decrease. It wasn't until then that she even noticed that someone else had joined her. The man was older than herself by many years, but he had eyes very similar to her own. Briefly she wondered if that was a trait of her fae race or not. He was next to her, but he held a stance very similar to her own.
"How are you holding up?" He smiled kindly at her, the only person she could remember doing so since this madcap tour began.
"Much better now that you are here." She felt her own magic slack as her knees began to shake.
"Woah. Don't give up on me yet. I can't do this one without you, but I can help you to hold it open."
Chelsea nodded her head and tried to concentrate. She could see the gate fluctuating, but it stayed open. Taking a deep breath she could smell smoke and limes. The limes threw her off. She normally smelled or tasted smoke and lilies when she used her own magic, but this smoke was different and limes had nothing to do with lilies.
"Who are you?" she finally panted, curiosity getting the better of her.
"I'm Etienne, your father."
The statement alone shocked her. She knew she had a father out there somewhere, but she had never known him. Her mother refused to speak of him leading the girl to believe he had abandoned them. To have him here now, when she felt she was near dead... she simply didn't have the words to express herself.
"You're my what?" she practically screamed – or would have if she had the energy to. As it was, the words came out more as a whimper than anything.
"I'm your father, Chelsea. I'm going to help you get out of this, but do you see the wagon over there? The one heading towards the gate?" When she nodded, he continued. "We need for them to get through. Once they are on the other side, we can jump through and end this mess."
Relief flooded her being. She literally felt like she was dredging through the bottom of a pool, looking for whatever magic she could possibly find hidden inside of her. Instinct told her that she would be in serious trouble if she actually ran out. At this point, she knew it could be a real possibility, though. She had been jumping for so long before this and now she was afraid to let the gate close. The cat-eyed man had beaten her bloody before she had been ordered to open the gate. He had warned her that if she didn't do as they told her, the beating she had would be nothing compared to the torture they would make her watch her mother go through. She couldn't couldn't allow that to happen. She knew that the guilt of it would likely destroy her.
"What do you need me to do?" she asked in a trembling voice. "I am so spent."
"I know, dear. I know. I need you to keep the gate open. I can't open a portal this long, or anywhere near this long. I can help feed magic into it and some into you so that it's not just you keeping it open, but I can't hold it myself."
Chelsea nodded. She had stumbled upon her ability to teleport two years ago, but even between all of her own experimentation she hadn't jumped as much as she had in these past few days. She was so, so tired. At this point, the man could be Santa Clause or Hannibal Lector for all she cared as long as he helped her keep this gate open or helped end the whole mess.
The crazy woman who started all of this was screaming unintelligibly and running towards the two of them, ignoring the wagon barreling towards the gate. As soon as the wagon cleared, the man – her father – wrapped his arm around her waist and told her to jump.
"Nooo!!"
It took a moment for Chelsea to realize she was the one screaming. One second they were about to jump through the hole, then the next the hole was gone and they had simply jumped a foot or two in front of themselves.
"Tsk. Poor Etienne. You and your little brat seem to be stuck here. I know you can't make a jump like that on your own, and she's so exhausted, she can barely stand," the crazy woman practically cooed. She held a sword as she approached the two Tautha as easily as if she had been born with it. The woman smirked evilly. "And to think, the two of you just met and now she gets to watch you die." The woman spoke with such delight in her voice that Chelsea couldn't help the shudder of revulsion that passed through her.
The woman swung the sword towards Etienne, who easily dodged away. Though still in a lethargic stupor, Chelsea was surprised to see the two fighting – the woman with the sword and her father dodging it as if this were old hat. A part of her own brain told her that they were fae; they likely lived when swords were common, but the other part of her still had a hard time grasping what she saw in front of her own face. Desperately, Chelsea struggled to stay awake and standing.
She started panicking when she felt the first wave of nausea creep into her belly. Her magic was gathering itself. Mentally she tried to stamp it down, but it wouldn't listen to her. She vaguely noticed when Etienne slit the wicked woman's throat. She knew he was talking to her, but she couldn't hear what he said as he walked towards her. Something – her own magic she presumed – was pulling at her hard enough that she could barely keep her feet in place.
Etienne's eyes went wide when he saw the hole start to open. They both screamed when she turned and fell through.
Chelsea blinked when she hit the ground knees first. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She hadn't intended to jump, hadn't wanted to open another gate, but something took over and she did it anyway. Was it possible that her magic was taking over? Whatever had happened, she felt as if something had taken her insides and stripped a layer out. Her body burned from head to toe, nerves on fire in a way she hadn't ever experienced before.
"Did you do that on purpose?"
She looked up to find the man standing next to her.
"I'm so sorry. Did I pull you through? I..." The man, her father, kneeled down and pulled her into a tight hug.
"No, Chelsea. You didn't pull me through. I'm able to teleport as well. I followed you. I just need to know if you gated away on purpose or if it just happened."
"It just happened." She looked up at him with tear filled eyes.
"Ok. It's ok. We'll figure something out, just try not to jump. But know that if you do, I will follow, ok?"
The girl nodded, still fearful but happier that there was someone who seemed to want to actually help her. Etienne was holding her shoulders, looking into her eyes when it happened again. Sighing, he closed his own eyes, found her thread of residual magic and followed her to the next hop.
Each hop was getting more painful and more tiring. Each felt like another layer of her innards was stripped away, but the man kept his promise. Every time she got pulled away, he followed shortly after. It didn't matter where she went – be it as mundane as Portland, Oregon or as exotic as the place with the lava and fire – he showed up. He tried to help her rest, gave her hints to help gain control. They didn't stop her from jumping uncontrollably, but some of them did help her to regain some energy. After the fifth hop, he gave up on the suggestions and told her that her magic was going full tilt and out of her control.
After that, they spent the breaks between hops talking to each other. He asked her everything from what her favorite color was to when she first felt her magic. He answered everything she asked, though she stayed away from asking why he had stayed away, why she had never met him before all of this. The resting periods were getting shorter and the jumps were becoming more painful. The last thing she wanted to do now was say something that might make him leave her.
The last hop was to the throne room of the evil woman. Chelsea had never gotten the woman's name, but she knew that the woman owned this place. By this point, she felt like she was bleeding internally and the pain was enough to make her head swim. It wasn't the first time in this series of unintended gates to end up in this room, but it was the first time that anyone else was here besides herself and Etienne.
"Stay back! Stay back! I don't know when I'm going to jump again!" she screamed in panic. It was bad enough that her father was following her through this mad race to the death. She had already pulled some boy through with her once when she had almost gotten away from her kidnappers. She didn't want to accidentally catch anyone else in her whirlwind.
Etienne dropped down next to her just as she started feeling the magic gathering again. She screamed for him. He looked as tired as she felt. Then suddenly, everything stopped.
Mentally, Chelsea shook herself. She couldn't feel the pull of her magic anymore. There was no gate, no magic, no oppressive constriction. There was only the pain and weariness. Had it finally stopped?
That last thought pulled Chelsea out of her headspace and back into what was going on around her. "What did you do?" she asked her father. "How did you make it stop?"
He didn't answer her. Instead he pulled her into a tight hug, one that she gladly fell into, despite the realization that for some reason they were both sticky with splotches of green goo all over them.