But she was alive. And a quick survey showed all her injuries healed. That was something.
The gods hadn’t smote her after all. Gregory looked equally whole. As she watched, he reached for his own brand, then he fisted his fingers and let it fall back to his side. Maybe she wasn’t the only one with that small, naïve hope.
Turning away before her gaze caught his, she studied the power as it continued to flow farther out from its magical epicenter. Wherever it encountered one of the fae, the winds would spin and whirl until, with a little burst of magic, the accompanying healing spell would migrate to the next nearest fae. In counterpoint, wherever the power touched upon a Riven’s body or a spot of tainted blood, the magic would lick along it with pale, blue flames until all was consumed.
Others were still gaining their feet after the initial surge of magic had tossed them on their asses. Lillian’s little brother was one and seeing him moving stiffly and awkwardly, she hurried to his side. A soft, but otherwise happy whine greeted her.
After giving him a once-over and examining the smooth skin where the blade had been, she enfolded him in the best bear hug she could manage now that she was once again a much smaller dryad.
Her eyes turned to her father to find River already there, bending over him, checking for injuries. That they had both survived gave Lillian some hope that she might one day explore those family bonds to see how deep they ran. But unlike with her brother, she had no urge to go and hug either parent.
They were strangers. As was her brother, she supposed. But there was something very engaging about Shadowlight—his friendly openness would melt even the most guarded heart.
A shift in the flow of magic against her skin alerted her that Gregory’s spell was winding down. In its wake, all were healed and the bodies of the Riven had vanished. Strange though it was, she could still see the broken underbrush, torn up grass, and smell the scent of crushed vegetation where the individual battles had occurred, but the blood and gore were absent. Slowly, other things seeped into her consciousness. While the Wild Hunt still milled around Lillian and Gregory, awaiting direction, a quick tally showed that their number had decreased.
Killed in battle or killed by Gregory’s magic?
“All who ran with us were loyal. Only the dead are gone, free to journey to the Spirit Realm. May they have a long, peaceful rest before starting the journey of life once more.”
Lillian looked around, disconcerted for another reason. She didn’t know the members of the Wild Hunt, not personally. Though they clearly knew each other.
What if she’d lost friends or family she’d known for years? There one minute and then gone the next. No chance to say goodbye. Nothing of the physical left to shed tears over, no burial for a final farewell. Wiped clean off the earth by divine power in the space between heartbeats.
Gregory had called to that mighty power, and he’d received an answer. He’d told her all along what he was, what she used to be: an Avatar.
And Avatars belonged to their gods. But those same gods somehow belonged to their avatars, and couldn’t or wouldn’t deny Gregory their power, even when it was clear he had been compromised by the brand of enslavement.
What Gregory was capable of had never been as real to her as it was in that moment of clarity. It was such a beautiful, horrifically fierce power. And she now commanded it. She’d never felt so tiny, or completely inadequate, in her life. Somehow, she had to release him from the influence of the brand.
That barely contained force must never belong to the Lady of Battles. Lillian’s earlier conviction was based on more personal reasons. He was her friend, beloved companion, the other half of her soul. She’d wanted to protect him out of her love for him, their sense of duty to each other.
Those were romantic reasons, but now she’d seen the far more deadly and far-reaching reason why she couldn’t let them fall any further into the Battle Goddess’s manipulations.
She and Gregory were now the greatest threat the universe had ever encountered—because even with the Battle Goddess’s slave collars around their Avatars’ necks, the Divine Ones still shared their power.
Gregory’s little experiment proved that.
“You finally understand?” he asked as he padded over to her on all fours. “The Divine Ones love all they create. They would not destroy the Lady of Battles, even when her war with her twin threatened to tear apart the Magic Realm. They love us no less—in essence, we were their first-born. It seems they will not or cannot deny us their power. I had expected as much but hoped otherwise.” Gregory fell silent as he fingered his tattoo.
“I do understand why you see Tethys as a better choice than trusting my biological parents. And I would not have used these cursed collars knowing what I know now. However, I would have still fought the siren and attempted to free you or died trying.”
“I am glad you did not die,” Gregory whispered hoarsely.
A soft swish of long grasses in an unfelt breeze and the shifting of shadows announced when her father joined them. “I am truly sorry for our part in your current predicament, First One.” Her father bowed to Gregory. “There must have been a secondary spell hidden in the intricacies of the outer casing. My failure to find it is a stain upon my honor.” He tilted his muzzle toward the night sky and waited, his vulnerable throat exposed.
Lillian saw her mother’s look shift from concern to terror.
Gregory huffed. “Considering where you spent the last twenty or so years of your life, I can only imagine that this most-recent failure is just one of many stains upon that honor.”
Darkness stiffened, but held his position, waiting for the killing blow.
Then Gregory raised a hand and patted the other gargoyle on the shoulder, surprising her father, and everyone watching, into a group flinch. “It is not for me to judge you. Though I can only imagine what choices you had to make to protect those you love. And ultimately, I owe you and your dryad mate for siring my beloved.”
Her father sighed softly. “I’ve made many mistakes, but Lillian and Shadowlight will never be among them.”
“We all make mistakes,” Gregory agreed. “I have committed more than my share in this lifetime already, and no doubt will make many more.” His tone darkened. “But should you attempt to betray my trust, know that I will set both you and your mate before the Lord of the Underworld’s throne. As a personal favor to me, he will grind your bones under his hooves until they are dust.”
Just then the pooka trotted up to Gregory and rubbed his head against the gargoyle’s shoulder in what could only be called a loving manner. Gregory met Lillian’s gaze while absently returning the pooka’s show of affection with a good scratch along his neck, just under the fall of his mane.
A soft whine pulled Gregory’s gaze away from hers as he tracked the sound. Lillian wasn’t the only one disturbed by her guardian’s fierce ultimatum. Shadowlight paced closer to Gregory on all fours and whined a second time, his tone a clear plead.
Gregory’s expression softened, and he reached down and ran his fingers through the smaller gargoyle’s mane. “Be at ease, young one. Your parents will not betray me of their own free will. But it had to be said as a promise and a deterrent to anyone here who would betray me.”
Shadowlight’s ears perked back up, and he licked at the older gargoyle’s fingers, happy and reassured once more.
While she was glad Gregory wasn’t going to indiscriminately execute members of her family just yet, recent events had ensured that she wasn’t quite as trusting as she’d been six months ago, so she wondered what his next move might be. However, the night was chilled and so was she now that she was merely a dryad again. Deciding that was excuse enough, she covered the six feet separating them and bumped her shoulder against Gregory’s until he took her under the shelter of one wing.
It had been a hell of a night, and it still wasn’t over. They needed to find Gran and then deal with Tethys.
Chapter 32
“THERE
ARE STILL OTHER Riven headed toward Tethys’ location,” said a voice Lillian identified as her father’s.
And just like that, Lillian was tossed back into the here and now. With a rumble, Gregory nodded in the general direction of the waiting fae as the Wild Hunt shifted back into its deadly, predatory readiness.
Gregory glanced at her smaller form but didn’t say anything about what possible reason the magic might have had for stripping away her gargoyle form.
But Lillian could guess. There were no female gargoyles for reasons not entirely known to her. As such, she was somehow in violation of the natural laws, and apparently, the Divine Ones didn’t care for the new look.
While Lillian woolgathered, the rest of the Wild Hunt had moved off a little way, leaving only her parents and little brother in their immediate area.
Her gaze returning to her mother, she found the other dryad already mounted on Darkness’s back. She sat on him like it came naturally to her. Well, she probably had lots of experience.
Her parents did another of their silent exchanges, which she couldn’t fault them for since Gregory utilized that gargoyle trait frequently, but it did leave her wondering what they discussed. Apparently, she wouldn’t have to wait long for an answer. Darkness approached her location less than a minute later.
When he was a stride distant, River reached out and handed over one of her swords. Lillian looked up from her study of the blade to find her mother holding out a second blade, a twin to the one already in Lillian’s hand. From out of the air, River produced an accompanying shoulder harness with scabbards for the two short swords.
Lillian’s eyebrow rose at the show of magic. If she wasn’t mistaken, River had been drawing on a handy bit of Darkness’s gargoyle magic. She hadn’t even known that was possible. Later, she would question that in more detail. By the slight tremor in the tip of Gregory’s one ear, he planned to do the same thing.
With a bit of instruction from her mother, Lillian was able to wiggle into the harness and secure the blades so they would come free easily but wouldn’t bump against her back when Gregory ran. Throughout the whole exchange, Gregory merely looked on with what Lillian couldn’t mistake for anything other than approval.
Her sword skills were limited to fencing, and these were slashing weapons, their weight and balance nothing alike, yet it still felt good to have the weapons. They gave her a purpose.
Gregory dropped to all fours and arched his one wing out of her way so she could mount with ease.
She only hesitated a moment before she mounted in silence, but inwardly she mourned the loss of her gargoyle body. After all, she felt so much more secure when it was her own feet doing all the work.
Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around Gregory’s neck. He leaped forward, her father and brother taking up flanking positions, and then Gregory was out in front of the Hunt, leading them back toward civilization, the siren, and most-probably a whole host of Riven rabid for blood and magic.
A tendril of familiar power brushed her mind a moment before Gregory’s essence joined their thoughts. “It’s good to have you on my back again. Do not misinterpret my words, you made a lovely gargoyle, but I missed my dryad.” His tone held hints of his old self, which she hadn’t heard since before he’d been taken by the siren.
“It’s good to have you back, too. I’ll figure a way to get us out of this mess.”
He twisted enough to brush a quick gargoyle kiss against her shoulder. With her arms around his neck, it was the only part of her he could reach. “We’ll work together to solve this. I think that is where we have failed. We each keep trying to do things apart, to protect the other, but that is what allows harm to find us.” Gregory paused and then glanced back to where the rest of the Hunt ran at their heels. “The Lady of Battles may have made a mistake with the collars, for in tying us even closer together, neither of us will be able to get into trouble without the other knowing.”
Lillian laughed. “That’s one way of putting a positive spin on winning the shitstorm sweepstakes.” She pressed a kiss to the back of his one shoulder, then straightened up enough so she could twist her upper body and look behind. She met her mother’s gaze.
River gave a slight nod and then whispered something in Darkness’s ear. In reply, he lengthened his stride and came alongside Gregory.
Lillian tilted her head in River’s direction. “What do you know about the Riven?”
Her mother pressed her lips together in thought. “They seek power. They probably are after the siren, though that won’t be their primary goal. They need your hamadryad.”
That made horrible sense. “Because she’s now the Sorceress and they want that power?”
“No, actually,” her mother countered and then clarified a moment later. “They want to use the bridge your hamadryads can form between the Mortal and Magic Realms.”
Lillian felt Gregory stiffen under her. She stared at her mother. “Hamadryads. Plural?”
“Naturally.” Her mother quirked an eyebrow. “You know there are two, surely? The one in this Realm, and the original in the Magic Realm—the one you took the cutting from in the first place.”
Cuttings only came from other plants. Of course there was a second tree.
“And it still lives?”
“Yes. Your tree is very strong and is in fact flourishing. She’s almost twice as large as the one growing here. Though that shouldn’t surprise you either since she’s had an extra eight years to grow and absorb power from the Magic Realm.”
“Hmm, I really don’t like the idea of a part of me still trapped there,” Lillian mumbled more to herself than any particular person. “What’s to stop the Lady of Battles from somehow using the hamadryad against me?”
Gregory rumbled at her question, apparently not liking the thought any better than she did, though he’d probably thought of that angle long before her.
“Hamadryads, being a hybrid of tree and faeblood, are not something our enemy can influence. As a tree spirit, a hamadryad lacks thoughts or emotions that the Battle Goddess can grasp, understand, or corrupt.”
That might be true, but it didn’t mean she liked the idea any better.
“However, there is a way to exploit both your hamadryads, and I think the Riven plan to try.” Her mother frowned darkly.
The terrain forced Gregory and her father to veer around the opposite sides of an ancient oak, following two different game trails. To Lillian’s dismay, she couldn’t continue the conversation for several strides. When Gregory and Darkness finally merged back onto the same path, Lillian sought her mother’s gaze. “Tell me what you mean.”
“You’re aware that travel between the Realms is difficult, yes? Normally, one must fight their way through the Veil. The trip here to the Mortal Realm is less strenuous than the return journey. In fact, besides gargoyles, only dragons, phoenix, and gryphons have enough inherent natural power to return to the Magic Realm. Of those, only the most elite of their kind could make the return journey without damaging themselves. All others would require aid directly from the Magic Realm or some form of powerful talisman that could enhance their natural magic.”
Lillian thought she knew where this was going without needing more details. “And somehow, my hamadryads can circumvent the Veil.”
“Yes, the two hamadryads can act like a bridge for those of us who know that secret.”
Lillian quirked an eyebrow. “That’s how you and father came here.”
River nodded in answer.
“And now the Riven have discovered that little detail?”
“I can only assume,” River agreed. “I would also guess that they now wish to bring more of their brethren here. The blood witch has been busy building up their numbers. We can’t allow them to reach this land. If they do, they will use the humans to multiply faster than we can kill them. All the Riven must die.”
Lillian was in complete agreement with her mother on this.
“I don’t know how much you know ab
out the Riven,” River continued. “But once housed in a suitable host, that seed of evil grows. It multiplies and infects all parts of the host body, tainting and warping it to the Riven’s needs. As the speck becomes a flood, it overwhelms the host and the Riven becomes a sentient, thinking, reasoning being.”
“Gods above. It’s like a virus or cancer.” Lillian shivered in horror as another thought occurred. “An intelligent cancer that consumes you, body and soul.”
Her father flicked an ear in her direction, and suddenly his voice was in her mind. “The Riven traps the host’s soul and uses it as a link to the body. Being more of the spiritual than the physical, without the soul to act as an anchor, the Riven couldn’t remain in the host and would drift away and be torn apart by the cleansing power of the elements.”
It was too horrible for words, so she said nothing, merely tightening her hold on Gregory.
Perhaps sensing her distress, Gregory interjected, “It’s all right, my Sorceress. When we destroy a Riven, we are freeing the soul to return to the Spirit Realm where it can be cleansed and healed of all scars. And we will kill all the Riven, take peace in that.” Gregory twisted to nuzzle her shoulder. It was a small gesture but eased the tension in her spine.
Yes, they would destroy the Riven to the last bloody one. She was immensely sick of them always sneaking around and then striking when one was weak.
“If the hamadryad can be used as a bridge, why haven’t the Riven from the Magic Realm just flooded down the bridge and conquered this realm?”
Her father glanced at her. “Because they can’t. The hamadryad shields against anything that evil attempting to breach the bridge from that direction. But the magic of this realm is much weaker. If the Riven can bypass the hamadryad’s defenses here, they will be able to bring their army through.”
Lillian tightened her hold on Gregory as he gathered himself and leaped over a fallen tree. When the way was smooth again, she asked, “But the hamadryad allowed you, River, and Shadowlight to come here.”
The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9) Page 49
