At least not that Jellan had heard.
Then again, they excluded him much of the time and he could not hear most of their whispers.
What concerned Jellan most of all, however, was this “work” Marian referred to.
What work?
In the legend of the Beast, he had ravaged the continent haphazardly. He killed. He raped. He pillaged. He destroyed. He tortured.
There was no rhyme or reason to it. This being one of the varied reasons he was terrifying.
Evil with a purpose was ugly. But understanding that purpose, tempering it, eradicating it, gave hope.
Evil run amuck with no purpose was chilling.
Of course, that was many years ago and there was no true and accurate accounting of it, and although there were numerous mentions of him, this deficit of knowledge included what was recorded in the tomes of the Go’Doan.
So perhaps there had been some purpose to it.
Some purpose that, when the Beast was imprisoned under the earth and his reign of terror halted, did not come to fruition.
Jellan wished to know.
Jellan needed to know.
But to attempt to find out, he’d have to separate those two and it did not seem he’d be able to.
On this thought, Jellan felt it and his head automatically tipped to the side when he did.
And as he was thinking on Daemon and Marian, and thus riding behind them and partly to their sides, he had their eyes on them.
As such, he saw Daemon’s head give a slight twitch.
By the true gods.
He felt it.
He felt it too!
Did he feel all the others that had happened recently?
Jellan could not see much of Marian, but what he could see, it did not appear as if she had.
“It’s the veil,” he called, blurting it right out.
Both Daemon and Marian turned to him.
Bloody hell.
“I wish you would make him speak only when spoken to,” Marian complained.
He barely spoke at all.
The bitch.
For once, Daemon ignored her.
And in so doing, Jellan took heart.
“What is the veil?” he asked.
“What you felt. It is the veil. The magical veil. It shrouds all of Triton. Even the seas and Mar-el. And it is disturbed, continues to be so and has for some time.”
Not disturbed, as such.
Growing.
Amassing power.
Daemon stared at him.
Marian glared at him.
Jellan put his heels to his mount and cantered closer to them.
“We should find news of what is happening on Triton,” he advised when he was riding at their side.
“Why would we need that?” Marian asked snidely.
“Because,” Jellan said to her calmly, “there have been a number of impacts on the veil these past days. Witches are ascending.”
She continued to glare at him, but Daemon asked, “Witches are ascending?”
“Dying,” he told him. “Powerful ones. And in their deaths, they ascend and the magic they wield on earth joins the veil.”
Daemon appeared very interested in this.
But Jellan did not have the opportunity to press it, for Marian demanded, “Why are they dying?”
“I do not know,” he answered. “This is why we must seek news about what is happening in the realms.”
He turned his gaze to Daemon to see the creature appeared contemplative.
“You feel it, yes?” he pushed. “When there is a tremor in the veil.”
“I did not know what it was,” he muttered.
“I feel it too,” Marian said swiftly.
“But you cannot read it,” Jellan returned, just as swiftly.
“It is not important to us, witches dying,” she retorted.
“It is important to us why the veil shifted just now,” he declared.
“Another witch dying? That must happen all the time, and I know it does for I felt this veil shift as you say, repeatedly.”
“It is not only when witches die that it trembles, Marian,” he shared haughtily.
“And why else does it tremble?” Daemon cut in.
Should he tell him of the prophecy?
Jellan did not know, and in truth, had reflected on this question much these past days.
He did not have control over the Beast. He was not even certain Marian did.
He was struggling with the answer to that question and was seeing now, he should not have alerted them to the messages of the veil before he’d made a decision.
“Jellan, answer,” Daemon demanded.
“Powerful witches at work. Powerful spells cast. Powerful rituals held,” Jellan dissembled. “For instance, the rituals conducted to awaken you caused more than a tremor of the earth. It was felt in the veil.”
“Hmm,” Daemon hummed, then queried, “Do they know I have ascended?”
Jellan shook his head, his reaction honest this time.
“I don’t know. Though, I would assume if they had, we would not have been unmolested as we have been since you made the surface.”
Daemon appeared also to be thinking hard on that.
But Marian was watching him closely and Jellan’s heart beat hard in his chest for he sensed she knew he was not being completely forthcoming.
He felt certain she’d expose him and was utterly stunned when she did not.
Instead, she looked forward and stated, “He might be right. Perhaps we should know what’s happening in the realms. Understand these messages of the veil.”
Jellan was not sure the decision he was making was the right one. He did not know if he could gain the trust, and control, over the Beast to do his bidding, not Marian’s, not Daemon’s own. It did not seem in the now he could, though it did seem he was useful to the creature, if not useful to Marian.
But he did not feel he had firm footing in their little trinity.
Thus, he decided not to tell them the lovers had united in one place.
And they were not only together, something in and of itself that increased their strength.
They were lovers.
The prophecy had been completed. They were at full force. Their power was disrupting the veil, regularly, mightily.
It wasn’t just powerful witches dying (although he sensed that was also happening, and he was keen to know why this was occurring so often), it was more.
Much more.
He feared what either one of them would do if he held this information from them, only to share it at a later date.
But if he could not gain control over Daemon, set him to do Jellan’s bidding, not his own, definitely not Marian’s, it would be essential that those prophesied remained at the height of their strength.
And that those powers grew.
Because if he could not control the Beast, someone had to eradicate it.
In the meantime, he had to find a way to ingratiate himself with the creature.
He had to find a way to lessen Marian’s hold over him.
And he had to discover what this “work” was that Daemon wished to do.
Thus, he had to have information. He had to know what was happening in the realms. He had to have time.
He had to plan.
He had his own work to do.
And in the now that work meant he was allied with Marian in one thing…
He had to delay.
134
The Finding
Teddy
Westernmost Lesser Thicket Forest
WODELL
“I think we’re far enough away, we can seek a road,” he said to Moira.
“I think we need to continue to be cautious,” she replied.
He shifted closer to her. “Moira, as I’ve said, we have much more of a chance of running into someone who can help if we travel the road.”
“Yes, and they know we’ve escaped,” she returned. “They were very in
tent on what they were doing, Teddy. They could be seeking us, and they can also find us on the road.”
She was frightened, as were all the women, and they had reason. He understood this.
Thus, he held tight to his patience, something he was learning well to do these past days.
“We have passed many a farmstead where we could have stopped and asked for succor,” he reminded her, still uncomfortable that they had, indeed, stopped, but not to ask for succor.
To take it.
They were now thieves.
Of course they would not have eaten in this past week if they had not stolen a cooling bread loaf from a window sill, several jars of preserves and pickles from a canning locker, a bag of shelled pecans left on a back stoop after the sheller was called away from their task, and a slab of cured ham from a meat stall.
But need was no excuse.
By his estimation they were still a three to four week walk away from Notting Thicket.
At least.
Not taking the road was adding to that and who knew what that creature had been up to in the meantime.
They needed to run into somebody.
They needed a conveyance.
They needed to be at Birchlire Castle three days ago.
“What do you think?”
Moira’s question brought him back to their conversation, and when it did, he saw she was asking the women.
They had, over the days, created a democratic way of going about their business. Although Teddy and Moira were looked to as leaders and to make final decisions, everyone had a chance to have their say.
And sometimes, like now, when Teddy and Moira could not decide, it was put to a vote.
“I’m not going on the road,” Terra said.
“Me either,” Kate added.
A number of the rest of them shook their heads while those who did not, did not seem averse to staying off the beaten path, they simply looked undecided.
This meant they would remain hidden by the forest and sneaking through fields, maybe adding weeks onto their journey.
While the Beast walked the earth.
Teddy sighed, but inside was a controlled panic that was coming more and more uncontrolled as the days wore on.
He also considered, once again, for perhaps the two-thousandth time, sharing with them.
Teddy knew for (relative) certain The Rising priests that had fled, if they had escaped the Beast, were not looking for Teddy and his women.
They were finding safety wherever they could find it.
But unless he shared the far more frightening information of why they needed to make a great deal more haste, he could not tell them they had nothing to fear from the men who took them.
This he found tremendously upsetting for, like in the now, the echoes of the terror of what they’d experienced, what they’d witnessed, and what might have befallen them if they had not escaped interfered with their common sense.
He wished them to know they did not have to live every second, petrified that they would be dragged back to that place.
But he did not wish to replace that fear with one altogether more paralyzing.
“We will carry on as we are,” he muttered.
“Teddy,” Moira called, and as he was beginning to resume their journey, he stopped and looked back to her to see his friend grinning at him with reassurance. “We’ll get there. Prom—”
She stopped mid-word, frozen, and she was not the only one.
Teddy heard it and he had frozen too.
For half a second.
Then he hissed, “Stay low, stay quiet, and follow me.”
He got low himself, while scanning the trees, looking for fallen logs, hollow ones, wide trunks, anything that would hide them.
He did this as the distant, but approaching, sound of horses’ hooves got ever closer.
The steeds were not on the road, which was some ways away.
They were coming through the forest.
Toward them.
“Kate, Terra, duck behind that log,” he clipped, pointing to a fallen log that was thick, so it rose high from the ground.
Kate and Terra bustled that way and disappeared behind it.
With cautious haste, he continued guiding the rest through the trees and searching for hiding places.
But he could hear the horses getting closer.
Damn it!
Could he have been wrong about The Rising priests searching for them?
“Hattie, Constance,” he whispered urgently. “Over there. Big tree. Hide behind it.”
“Minnie, Irma…behind that log. Lie on the ground. Side by side. Everyone, pull leaves over you,” Moira instructed, indicating a fallen log that was not tall, but would provide the two women cover if they did as told.
And the horses continued to get closer.
He turned to Moira.
“Go to Kate and Terra. Hide with them. If it is us they’re searching for, I’ll draw them away,” he ordered Moira.
“I’m staying with you.”
Gods!
Why was the woman so bloody stubborn?
It suddenly felt like the thundering hooves were shaking the trees.
Damn it, how many of them were there?
There hadn’t been that many before.
Had they gone to find reinforcements to chase down seven women and him?
“Go!” he snapped to Moira.
“I’m staying with you!” she snapped in return, grabbing his hand and starting to pull.
He looked into the distance and he could see the first horses through the dead trees.
“Moira!” he tried to pull away. “Go hide!”
“Teddy!” she snapped. “Run!”
“Teddy!” he heard roared.
When he did, he stood immobile, staring at the trees, his heart beating fast, his skin warming, his throat itching to shout his elation.
“Teddy!” Moira was pulling urgently at his hand. “We need to run!”
“Go!” he heard whispered loudly from one of the trees, he thought from Constance.
“Please, Teddy. Take Moira and go!” he heard cried from behind a log. Terra.
“Faunus,” he whispered.
“Teddy!” Faunus shouted.
“Faunus!” Teddy yelled.
He whipped to Moira, caught her face in both his hands, yanked her to him and kissed her smack on the lips.
He pulled away and exclaimed, “We are saved!”
“What?” she breathed, eyes wide and staring at him.
But the large, proud Firenz horses were upon them, all around, galloping grandly about them and Teddy had let Moira go, had turned and was running to one of them.
Faunus dismounted before his steed was at a complete stop and he only had to jog five steps before he and Teddy ran into one another.
They embraced, Teddy shoving his face in Faunus’s neck, taking in his scent, feeling his strength, before Faunus grasped him on either side of the neck, pulled him back, and his head came down.
His kiss was wet and punishing and fantastic.
When he pulled away, in return Teddy took his head in his hands and stated, “I knew you’d come.” He yanked Faunus to him, pressed his lips hard against Faunus’s, pushed him away but didn’t let him go, and he cried, “I knew you’d come!”
“Many thanks for the message about where you were headed,” Faunus replied, grinning.
Teddy recalled what he’d written in that message and fought the heat hitting his skin.
“Though it would have saved time if you’d taken the bloody road,” he went on.
“I have…we have…” He blinked and mumbled, “We.” He brightened and shouted, “We!”
He pulled from Faunus and spun around.
“Ladies!” he yelled. “It’s all right! Come out! It’s safe! These are my friends come to rescue us!”
He caught sight of Saturn, standing by an astonished-looking Moira, and he bounded over the dead leaves to his friend.
“You are skin and bones,” he declared.
“I’ve been abducted and then on the run,” he returned.
“We need to fatten you up,” Faunus stated, coming to stand by their sides.
Just the word “fatten” made him discontinue ignoring the gnawing hunger in his gut and his mouth began to water.
“Actually, if you have food, my women need feeding,” he told them. “The ham we stole ran out yesterday evening.”
“Your women?” Faunus asked, before his dark gaze moved toward Moira, as if he just noticed she was there.
Teddy shifted around, noting Firenz warriors everywhere, at least twenty-five of them, and many were standing beside or behind where his women were hiding, but had not come out.
“Truly!” he yelled. “It’s all right! These are my friends!”
“How are you friends with Firenz warriors?” Moira asked quietly.
He looked to her and saw she was not only stunned, she looked worried.
“It is a long story, which I will tell you later. In the now, I am being most honest with you,” he whispered, reaching to her, taking her hand and giving it a hearty squeeze. “You have naught to fear from these men. They look fierce. But they are most gentle. Especially with women.”
“Yes, I am most gentle with women,” Saturn decreed earnestly.
Teddy looked to Saturn.
He then saw how Saturn was gazing upon Moira.
Teddy turned back to Moira, and of a sudden, it was as if he was seeing her for the first time.
She did not have the lush beauty of Nyx, but he saw she was rather lush, especially when it came to curves.
And she had quite a bit of rich brown hair that probably looked rather lovely when it hadn’t been days since she washed.
“Saturn,” Teddy called.
“Yes?” Saturn asked, not looking from Moira.
“Saturn!” Teddy clipped.
“Yes!” Saturn answered, tearing his eyes from Moira.
“We have been through hell,” he said softly.
It was then he sensed the others coming out of hiding.
He shifted and watched them scurrying toward Teddy and Moira. The women got close, very close to Teddy, shuffling Faunus and Saturn out of the way so they could form a tight huddle.
The Rising Page 15
