Another perplexing mystery in need of resolution. He didn’t know why the hamadryad had shared knowledge with him, or so willingly brought him to this realm. However, that particular mystery would keep. He’d come to this cursed land for another reason—his collars. He’d known the moment the warded collars had left the Battle Goddess’s domain, had in fact been working on the other set when the theft had occurred. He’d acted immediately but still hadn’t been fast enough to stop the thieves from vanishing with his collars into the abyss of the Mortal Realm. It hadn’t taken long to discover the identities of the thieves. And, oh, how the Battle Goddess would rage when she learned the truth.
That Stalks the Darkness would take his newborn child and run wasn’t a great surprise, but Gryton had soon discovered the gargoyle hadn’t been alone.
The truth was a greater shock. The gargoyle’s dryad keeper, the Battle Goddess’s own confidant, had fled willingly.
With that act, his path had been set—follow Darkness and River to the Mortal Realm and bring them back to the Battle Goddess or, at the very least, retrieve the collars.
To go before the Lady of Battles with only an explanation would have ended badly for all concerned.
So here he found himself in the Mortal Realm with a most unusual set of circumstances arrayed before him. He’d assumed Darkness and River were simply defecting and had taken the collars as a goodwill gesture to show the Gargoyle Protector what the Battle Goddess had planned.
Had that happened, it would have been disastrous for the Lady’s plans. Given a little time with the collars, the Protector would have studied them and taken steps to neutralize the spells and then adapt his personal protections to become impervious to such an attack in the future.
But that wasn’t what had happened at all. No, a siren from an ancient time had unbalanced the male half of the Avatars, and her act of interference had opened other unforeseen possibilities.
The hamadryad had shown that in a moment of panic over the lives of humans, her young and very foolish dryad mistress had collared herself and her other half.
Well, in truth, the tree’s version of events showed the protector collaring himself, but that must be incorrect, surely?
Fate was not usually so kind to him, Gryton reflected, but whether it came about because of an idiotic young dryad or a befuddled Gargoyle Protector, he would happily benefit from their mistakes.
Now all he need do was capture one of them and return to the Magic Realm. The collars would force the other half to follow.
With the Avatars’ return, the Battle Goddess would be content, and Gryton could keep his head and his immortality intact.
He merely had to avoid detection until he could set traps. Though it might not be the most straightforward task to complete with the number of fae he sensed lurking around this maze and surrounding land. There was also the matter of the other two gargoyles who would require a healthy dose of caution.
But the greatest danger should have been the Avatars themselves.
When he’d arrived in this realm, the Avatars had still been in the glade, learning from the hamadryad that the ancient siren had sacrificed herself and in so doing defeated the Riven army.
The Protector’s attention was diverted, but not so much he should have wholly missed Gryton’s arrival.
Luck?
Or the hamadryad’s meddling?
Neither idea was appealing as both scenarios placed events out of his control.
Though he might also credit it to the Protector having his natural senses dulled by the new collar around his throat as well as years trapped in this realm.
That was a much happier explanation than the Sorceress’s hamadryad manipulating events to her liking.
Whatever the cause, it led to a rare set of occurrences he couldn’t pass up, not if he wanted to remain free of Lord Death’s clutches. That one knew what Gryton was. Another thought slipped through his mind. None in this realm knew what he truly was. Here, he would be safe after a fashion—at least as safe as any being could be from the Lord of the Underworld.
Even the Avatars didn’t remember what he was.
Perhaps he might have a use for the Mortal Realm after all?
When fate handed out her gifts, it was always best to accept them graciously.
With a final glance at the hamadryad, he eased out from between her branches and traversed the open center of the glade, past a ring of broken ward stones and into the maze’s shadowy corridors.
All the time, he felt the hamadryad and the enchanted cedars of the maze watching him with an awareness not based in the physical world. He didn’t care what she had planned, he would not be manipulated by a tree, no matter if she was the Mother’s Sorceress.
He had his own agenda.
One which might take days or moons to complete, but he was nothing if not patient. Besides, the Avatars had already shown themselves to be less than they used to be.
A flicker of a hunter’s bloodlust stirred in his core, his magic awakening at the thought of a challenge.
He reined in his emotions, and his magic soon returned to its slumber. With a final glance back at the watchful tree, Commander Gryton made his way out of the maze and into the gardens beyond, heading for the dark canopy of the forest in the distance.
There he would hide until he’d learned more about this realm, and just how compromised the Avatars had become.
Chapter 1
LILLIAN SAT CURLED on the couch and stared at the television, a cup of tea growing cold in her hands. Every few seconds, her attention switched between the media’s special presentation covering the events of the night before and the messenger spells her grandmother was weaving where she sat on the opposite end of the couch.
The powerful spell Gregory had summoned to heal the fae injured during the Rivens’ attack had also knocked out the power grid, cell phone service, radio, internet, and most other modern conveniences.
Only after the battle’s subsequent cleanup had they learned those services were down. The power grid came back online first, followed by radio and television. Unfortunately, cell service was still down.
Hence why Gran was using messenger spells to relay orders and news among the Clan and Coven. Gran whispered the ending incantations of the spell. The letter she held flared with light as magic transformed it into the shape of a hummingbird. It hovered above Gran’s open palm for a moment more before zipping out the open patio doors.
Lillian stared at where it had been, still mesmerized by the whimsical, though presently useful, bit of magic. It was the fifth one Gran had made, and Lillian still marveled at it.
In her defense, she was operating on only three hours of sleep. Which was nowhere near enough time to recover or process all that had happened. Her other half was doing a better job of focusing. Currently, he’d stopped pacing to study the television.
She wasn’t sure how much he understood—he was very intelligent and knowledgeable about all things magical and the universe, in general, but she didn’t know if he grasped the subtler points of modern human culture.
Up until this point, her gargoyle protector had done his level best to avoid and ignore the humans, but by the way he focused on the news, with his ears flat against his mane and his tail flicking in agitation, she imagined he was starting to rethink his opinion of humans and how he viewed them.
‘Yes, my beloved gargoyle,’ she thought to herself, ‘the humans are a force to be reckoned with. You can’t just continue to pretend they are unimportant and of no consequence.’
It was close to noon, and the last of the fae search parties were straggling back to the cottage a few at a time.
They were using cloaking magic to hide. The whole area was under military lockdown, and any suspicious movement would bring a storm of trouble down upon all their heads.
The word among the humans was that a suspected terrorist attack was still being investigated, but nothing had been confirmed. The news switched between images of scared
people being herded back to their houses, grim-faced police, grimmer-faced military, and clips of an earlier riot caused by some hotheads.
Though unknown to the humans, the minor act of civil unrest had been squelched by several Coven members weaving spells to pacify the worst of the fear.
Gran had said there had been enough bloodshed in the last twenty-four hours to suffice. They didn’t need more. Besides, the spells were easy enough to cast with the plentiful magic Gregory had summoned while battling the Riven. More magic was saturating the Mortal Realm than it had seen in hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Of course, the magic would soon diffuse across the globe so the local concentrations would diminish. For now, the Coven and Clan seemed to be enjoying the bounty, even if the situation requiring it was less than ideal.
It should have been enough her loved ones had all survived, and the Riven had been exterminated, but Lillian couldn’t relax.
Of course disaster might come from a completely different quarter.
Her hands strayed to her flat belly. She prayed it would stay that way. Her mind was in the process of conjuring up all the possible disastrous complications a pregnancy might invoke when the news anchorwoman informed the viewers a press conference had just been announced and would start in a few minutes.
Lillian’s cynical side wondered if whatever the press conference revealed would make the possibility of a baby seem less dire in comparison.
From the corner of her eye, she caught Gregory shifting a wing out of his way to squint over his shoulder at her.
Oh, shit. Mr. Hyperaware was picking up on her worry. Maybe he’d think it was the news and the humans.
She gestured first at Gregory and then at the couch beside her, hoping he’d think she just wanted comfort, and not guess she was actually trying to hide something from him.
As he was prone to do, he didn’t respond the way she thought he would. Instead of sitting on the couch next to her—which wasn’t really big enough for an eight-foot-tall gargoyle, she admitted—he settled on his haunches and leaned against her legs.
“What do you think about how the humans are responding to this new crisis?” Gregory’s deep voice soothed her nerves even if he asked a question she didn’t know how to answer.
“Honestly, I thought they’d have stormed our walls already.” Lillian shrugged and then narrowed her eyes. “We know from what we’ve overheard that the human authorities—at least the military—suspects our family of some involvement in the strange occurrences. And that we just happened to plan a masquerade on the night the Riven attacked? They’ll find it too much of a coincidence not to investigate.”
“I would hunt out the truth, were I them,” Gregory acknowledged.
“Exactly.” Lillian sipped at her cold tea as she glanced back at the television. An official was introducing someone in uniform. “But then, what if they found something more interesting to study than us?”
Gran and Gregory turned their gazes fully upon her.
“Surely you’ve both had the same thought by now?”
They glanced at each other in silence.
“Oh, come on. I can’t be the only one to worry the humans might have caught one of the Riven. Gran, you said before they had found Riven bodies. What if this time they found live ones?”
Gregory rumbled an unhappy sound. “We will infiltrate their ranks and learn if they have managed to capture one of the beasts. It’s possible one may have evaded our search spells. If that is the case, we must dispose of it before it has a chance to infect others.”
Gran raised her hand and pointed at the television while at the same time turning up the volume. “We may have other concerns.”
Lillian followed Gran’s direction. Undaunted by the flash of cameras and the shouts of reporters, a group of military brass had gathered in front of the town hall, using the first landing of its stairs as an impromptu stage.
The speaker on screen, a man Lillian would guess to be in his late forties, was saying no one had claimed responsibility for the attack. He went on to say the as yet unknown gaseous substance, which had rendered its victims unconscious or caused them to have mild hallucinations, seemed to have no other long-term side effects. However, the local residents would all be screened to rule out further danger.
“Gas attack, my ass,” Lillian muttered under her breath. “I told you that’s what they’d call the Siren’s enchantment.”
“In this instance, a lie serves us much better than the truth,” Gran countered.
“True.”
Gregory made a deep huffing sound. “They have something else planned. You can read it in their expressions even over that strange device.” He gestured at the television with a vague motion.
Lillian realized Gregory was correct.
“Screenings,” she muttered. “Blood tests! They are going to go door to door collecting samples. I doubt it will be voluntary.”
“Indeed,” Gran muttered a curse under her breath. “Since they were shooting at the Riven too, they damn well know it wasn’t a gas attack. They’ll be looking for a way to ferret out non-humans with their tests.”
“And any kind of blood test will likely involve DNA tests.”
“Yes.” Gran’s expression turned distant, meaning she was deep in planning mode.
Chapter 2
GREGORY SWIVELED HIS ears in the direction of the kitchen, and more specifically, the back entrance to the cottage. The sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears. A moment later, Lillian’s older brother, Jason, entered the house and made for the main living area.
Gregory didn’t bother to summon concealing magic as the coven member was alone. Though he was tempted to merely for a reason to use magic. It and the ability to speak mind to mind were the only powers he still had sole discretion over not requiring a direct command from Lillian. He fingered the tattoo collar circling his neck.
Even that meager power was his to call only because she had already made it a command. They hadn’t had time to study the full limitations his tattoo imposed upon his magic, not yet. But they would need to learn and explore how greatly he was crippled. At least, with Lillian’s order, he was able to access his defensive magic to protect her.
Earlier, they’d discovered Lillian couldn’t give him complete access to all his magic in a broad sweeping command. The tattoo didn’t allow such. His skin still felt raw from the tattoo’s blistering warning.
When she would have issued a dozen different ones, he’d cautioned her against it. Being decapitated by the tattoo-like slave collar was not how he wished to return to the Spirit Realm.
For the time being, the magic under his command was limited to the ability to hide in shadow, track his prey, and detect evil should it venture within range. He didn’t even know what that ‘range’ was yet.
But he would learn and overcome these new disabilities.
He watched Lillian as she came to her feet at the arrival of her brother. After brief hugs, they exchanged stories.
“The whole town has been asked to remain in their homes,” Jason was saying, “until such a time as it is deemed safe for residents to venture out again.”
Gran cleared her throat, “In other words, we’re in lockdown until they have poked, tagged, and categorized everyone to their heart’s content.”
“Exactly,” Jason agreed with a nod, not a hint of his usual jovial attitude in attendance. “That begs the question of when, where, and how are we getting out of Dodge with the lockdown in place?”
“We’re not.” Gran’s voice held a dangerous edge, one Gregory admired.
She knew the reasons they couldn’t leave. Not that Gregory was going to be run off by a pack of misinformed mortals.
“We can update our disguises and cover stories, and start over elsewhere,” Jason continued doggedly. “It’s not like the Coven hasn’t done it before. It’s a damn better option than getting tagged and bagged for some scientist to dissect in a lab.”
“Jason has a point,” L
illian said. “It’s going to get a little tense around here. There’s no way we can avoid the medical teams they will send house to house, not without shouting we’ve got something to hide.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Gran folded her arms. “We can’t run. Not this time. Your hamadryad is here. If it was a regular hamadryad, you could take a cutting and start over somewhere else. However, this hamadryad is presently also the Mother’s Sorceress. I do not feel comfortable leaving such power undefended within easy reach of the humans. Perhaps the humans will never guess she is more than a tree, and she’ll be safe, but I won’t risk all the remaining magic in this realm on wishful thinking.”
Gregory stretched and shook out his wings and then dropped to all fours. He walked to Gran’s side and gave her a playful headbutt. “Both wise and beautiful. No, I won’t leave Lillian’s hamadryad, nor will I abandon my other fae allies. Many of the Clan are tied to the land and their territories and cannot move easily.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Gran said with a twinkle in her eye. “We’re going to stay and give the humans exactly what they think they want.”
Lillian’s curiosity washed over him, resembling a turbulent wave. As he expected, she jumped into the conversation. “You plan to use magic on the humans, to somehow make them think they’ve tested us already.”
“A good guess, but no,” Gran said with a grin. “While that would work, it would take a huge amount of magic and planning. No, I plan on giving the samples, but then later following them back to their lab where we will switch them with samples of human blood. We already have some in storage for just such a need, but we didn’t plan on such a large-scale situation. To be safe, we’ll require enough for the entire Coven membership. For that amount, we’ll immediately start canvassing neighboring towns for unsuspecting humans matching Coven members’ appearances. With luck, we should be able to trick the human scientists without having to use magic upon them.”
The Complete Gargoyle and Sorceress Boxset (Books 1-9) Page 53
