Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2)

by Lisa Blackwood

  Lillian arched a brow in question.

  “In the past, we’ve found the easiest identity to use is one already created.” Greenborrow shrugged. “It has the added benefit of sending the authorities off on a wild goose chase.”

  Knowing some of the Fae as she did, a nasty thought occurred to Lillian. “Just curious, but what happens to the humans you impersonate?”

  “We put them in a safe place where they sleep for a day or two, depending on how long we need to move around in the human world.” Greenborrow gave a little shrug. “And, no, we don’t kill them. Once they are no longer needed, we give them false memories and then allow them to wake.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Dead bodies cause too many questions.” Greenborrow sounded mildly disappointed.

  Whitethorn turned what might have been a laugh of true amusement into a cough.

  Her eyes rolled back toward Whitethorn. At least she now knew who the tattooed personage was.

  One down, two to go.

  Looking over at the women, she debated for a moment. One was friendly, her cheerful grin contagious. Likely one of the sprites. But which one. Mother or daughter? If Whitethorn wasn’t averse to taking a form that looked much, much younger than his years, Lillian wouldn’t put it past the mother and daughter duo to play around with their ages either.

  “Goswin?” Lillian took a stab, figuring she had a fifty-fifty chance.

  The sprite nodded.

  As for the other woman, she gave nothing away in her expression. Lillian frowned, a touch unhappy at failing what felt like a test.

  “The banshee,” Gregory supplied, his attention still half on adjusting his clothing. He tugged at the neck of his T-shirt with a little too much force and Lillian heard the telltale popping of a seam giving way.

  A huge grin lit up Gregory’s face and he fisted the front of his T-shirt.

  “Don’t you dare do an imitation of a drunken redneck at a tailgate party! T-shirts don’t grow on trees, and you already destroyed one outfit last night, which I think is plenty for now. Don’t you?”

  Gregory froze, his brows furrowing in confusion.

  Gran walked into the kitchen, saving Lillian from having to explain ‘redneck’ and ‘tail gate’ to her gargoyle.

  “Good,” Vivian said, “you’re all here. And I see my granddaughter even got Gregory into some clothing.”

  Gregory grunted something dark under his breath, but didn’t verbalize further.

  Gran sat down in the chair next to Lillian, and nodded to Whitethorn.

  The sidhe lord glanced around the table. “Most here know the problems we need to solve and solve quickly, but Lillian, you and Gregory have only just awakened and possibly haven’t had time to fully understand all the ramifications.”

  Gregory sat up straighter in his chair, and Lillian found she mimicked him without conscious thought.

  “We can hide from the humans to some extent,” Whitethorn continued, “but there is one time each month when we cannot hide everything from them.”

  Gregory leaped to the answer before Lillian even had the first stirrings of an idea. “The Wild Hunt.”

  “Yes,” Whitethorn said. “We’ve been lucky until now. The power both you and Lillian raised in the last Wild Hunt sustained the boundary wards of our land and fed our people what magic we needed to survive, but it has now dwindled to a level where we must risk a hunt or weaken to a dangerous point. And the humans are not our only enemies—the Riven are still very much a threat.”

  Greenborrow reached across the table and patted Lillian’s hand. “You broke the Riven’s foothold in this world, but they are far from defeated. We’ve found traces of them far north of us. They’ve retreated to the northern wilds to lick their wounds and to avoid contact with the humans. But I believe they will only stay away until they’ve grown strong. Then I fear they will return and they might not take as much care to avoid human notice as we have. If the Riven reveal our existence to the humans, it could prove more damaging to us than any battle the Riven themselves might wage.”

  Whitethorn gave an almost defeated sigh. “So the Wild Hunt must ride to shore up our defenses, for we will need them in the coming days or months.”

  “However, we can’t risk the hunt for the very reason it could expose us to the humans,” Gran countered, with a raised eyebrow in Whitethorn’s direction. “Round and round we argue and still no progress.” She stuck her spoon in her tea and gave it a good stir as way of punctuating her statement.

  By the exchange of dagger-like looks shooting between Gran and Whitethorn, Lillian could only assume the Wild Hunt was a sore point between the two. Silence held for a heartbeat more, and then the entire table erupted into a chaotic debate strident enough to make a politician proud.

  Lillian didn’t venture into the verbal warfare, instead studying Gregory for any reaction. He leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest, and tilted his head first at one arguing Fae and then another. Not one soothing word or sage piece of advice did he utter into the debate. Instead, he studied the others with a glint in his eyes that clearly said he found the whole situation humorous.

  Gregory had made no attempt at subterfuge to hide his feelings on humans. She didn’t think he was underestimating them as an enemy, it was more like he’d already made up his mind on how to deal with them, and they were no longer a concern.

  Which concerned Lillian, greatly, because it could mean one of two things.

  Either Gregory underestimated the humans and didn’t see them as an imminent threat, more like something he could cure with a little time and proper guidance.

  Or he did see the humans as a threat.

  And Gregory tended to terminate anything he saw as a threat with extreme prejudice and very little guilt.

  Gooseflesh crested along her arms and raced down her body. Lillian glanced up from the grain of the wooden table to meet Gregory’s intense gaze. When she raised an eyebrow in question, he merely nodded his head in a barely discernible motion.

  “If you find a peaceful resolution to allow the Wild Hunt to ride while at the same time protecting the humans from themselves, I will make certain the Clan and Coven abide by your plan.”

  He was leaving it up to her?

  Well, it’s settled then. She’d just have to come up with a solution to the ‘human’ problem and prove to Gregory his trust in her wasn’t misplaced.

  She compressed her lips. Between the military, the media, and an army of scientists, Lillian had just set herself a near impossible task.

  How did one hold the Wild Hunt without the risk of discovery? How indeed?

  The problem with the hunt centered on the initial raising of power, and the subsequent magical blast wave it pushed out across the land, which washed away all but the most powerful of pre-existing spells. So the usual concealment spells the Fae used to hide, and perhaps even some of Gregory’s shielding spells, would be washed away by the new tide of power released across the land.

  The Fae needed to hide in plain sight, in essence, to be visible and yet not draw attention to themselves.

  A diversion.

  An old bait and switch trick worthy of a great magician.

  When the bare bones of an idea came to her, she grinned so hard it hurt her cheeks.

  “The Wild Hunt needs to come out of the closet to hide in plain sight.” Lillian smirked as those around the table fell silent one by one and turned toward her. When she was certain she had their full attention, she continued. “We need an ironclad ‘cover story’ to offset the danger of discovery during the Hunt. Give the average human a plausible mundane explanation for anything strange they might happen to see, and their reasoning mind will be more than willing to believe the lie instead of an impossible truth.”

  Greenborrow wheezed rather loudly. Lillian took it as a sound of encouragement.

  “If you want to hide the Wild Hunt, then all you need to do is throw an elaborate masquerade ball. Give the human
s illusions, parlor tricks, and true magic. They won’t know truth from fiction, and the secret of your existence will remain safe.”

  Lillian held her breath, waiting for the first denial. One minute stretched into a second, but no challenges came. She released the breath she’d been holding and glanced around at the other Fae. Each in turn had a thoughtful expression, their gazes turned inward in calculation. It was Gran who finally broke the unnatural stillness by picking up her cup of tea and sipping from it.

  “Well?” Gran directed the one word into the silence. “Personally, I think Lillian’s idea has merit. What says everyone else?”

  Whitethorn cleared his throat. “If this masquerade is to work, it will need to be substantial to draw the numbers required, covering a large region, community-wide at least.”

  “There could be more than one venue,” Goswin suggested. “A parade, or a theatrical performance, a renaissance fair. Music and dancing and drinking.”

  Greenborrow laughed. “Lots of drinking. Get them drunk and any stories will be easy to discredit.”

  The banshee shifted in her chair and pulled absently at her clothing, like Gregory had been doing earlier. “Will not those persons seeking the truth behind the more fanciful imaginings—such as Major Resnick—be suspicious of something like this? What possible reason could we have to host a…medieval fantasy renaissance fair?”

  “Greed.” Lillian laughed at the banshee’s questioning look. “This whole situation has drawn in huge crowds of people, and those people have money in their pockets. Any business-minded local is going to be brainstorming ways to part people from their money.”

  “I really can’t find fault with your reasoning,” Greenborrow commented. “Though your plan may draw suspicions directly upon your family and the Coven by association.”

  “From how Major Resnick was questioning me and by what Gregory picked from his mind, we know we are already in their crosshairs. So the problem isn’t so much whether we can completely fool the authorities, but whether we can hide the Hunt from the vast majority of humans. The Hunt must happen. How many days to the next full moon?”

  “Twelve,” Gran said, her brows furrowing in thought. “Twelve days to pull off the bluff of all bluffs. Leave this to me; I’ll rally the Coven. We’ll see to the human threat, and it will leave the Clan free to help Gregory to prepare for a war with the Lady of Battles’ forces.”

  Lillian had almost managed to put that particular danger out of her thoughts, but it was just as real as the human military—and far more dangerous, as the demon seed presently trapped within her hamadryad proved. But as dire as the situation was, it was really just a waiting game. In time her tree would finish killing the demon seed and Lillian would be free to rejoin her hamadryad, reclaim her soul, and take up the mantle of her power to become an Avatar once again. Then they could face the Battle Goddess on a level playing ground.

  Easy as one-two-three.

  Sure. As if anything in her life was ever easy. But presently, there was nothing she could do about it, which left her to help with more mundane difficulties. She turned to Gran. “Since the masquerade was my brilliant idea, how can I help?”

  “Flyers.” Gran stated with a chuckle. “Your expertise on the computer would be lovely.”

  The impromptu council meeting broke up. Whitethorn, Greenborrow, and the banshee herded Gregory in the direction of the back door, while Gran and Goswin ushered Lillian off to the one corner of the living room that doubled as the home office.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tethys waited until sharks came and the humans were distracted. Then she eased up underneath the boat. Half hidden by its shadow, she studied the two humans. An older male and a younger female occupied the cage. With their backs to her, and their attention focused on their equipment and the milling sharks, they were oblivious to the danger that even their stout cage wouldn’t protect them from.

  Yet Tethys hesitated.

  As far as humans went, these ones were better than many she’d met over the centuries, their hearts held kindness, their minds a sharp intelligence, an essence bright with potential. She would regret snuffing out that rare quality.

  She reached through the bars of the cage, and then hesitated a second time. Unnoticed by her prey, she fought a silent debate within her own heart. These ones thought of themselves as protectors of the ocean realm. And perhaps in a better world, that would be enough.

  Yet, more was needed. Their lives would continue to serve the ocean realm. She whispered a prayer for them as she reached her hand inside the cage a second time. Her fingers closed around the male’s ankles, and she commanded the water magic to swirl the breathing device from between his lips.

  The male tried to free his feet and simultaneously make a grab at his breathing tube. When he realized it was out of his reach, he struggled harder as panic set in.

  She allowed the male enough freedom to fight harder, his exertion would end his suffering faster. The female she buffeted with ever changing water currents, slamming her from one side of the cage to the other.

  After a short time, the male’s struggles lessened. As the siren waited for his end, she took no pleasure in it, but wasn’t overly moved by his fear either. She did feel guilt, for her actions stressed the dolphins, peaceful, forgiving creatures that they were. Once this unpleasantness was over, she would make amends to them.

  Her gaze travelled from the dolphin pod disappearing in the distance and slid back to the cage and her work. The human male was dead. But she noticed her momentary distraction had almost allowed the female to escape. She’d managed to fight the currents long enough to climb half out of the cage. As Tethys watched, her head broke the surface, and she heard the woman scream for help. Another human from aboard the boat leaned over the side and grabbed the woman’s arm.

  As her intended prey was pulled over the side and out of sight, the siren dropped away from the cage. She circled the boat at a leisurely pace, listening to the woman’s hysterical cries.

  In the world above, the two remaining humans had edged closer to the side of the boat. Their frightened visages peered back at her, tracking her movement through the water. She didn’t hide from them, wanting their attention.

  Another powerful tail flick and she surfaced to study the humans in turn. The male seemed to be the same age as the female. Both were young—adults, but not far into adulthood. Flicking her glance back down to the cage below, she wondered if the older male was mentor to these younger ones.

  Perhaps it would have served her better to keep the older one alive. He may have been more knowledgeable about this new world and everything going wrong with it.

  No matter. It was too late for regrets. Her power was great, but even she could not heal death. The young male would have to do.

  Rising a bit higher out of the water, the siren spat salty brine from her lungs and out her gills and dragged in a lung full of air. It tasted odd. Not oily like the water, but oddly heavy with strange odors.

  She drew a second breath, then on a third she began to sing. Within the first few notes, she’d snared the male as was clear by his mesmerized, vacant look and the easing of tense muscles.

  The human’s companion wasn’t as affected by her song, which was very rare. This female must have suffered damage to her hearing at some point in her life. With the slightest change in her song, Tethys ordered the male to sit. His female companion started shaking his shoulder, shoving him sideways with the strength of her grasp. But Tethys’ influence was more powerful than simple gravity, and the male swung back into position without a flicker of emotion on his face. His companion backed away, her horror almost a tangible flavor on the back of the siren’s tongue.

  The human continued to back pedal until her legs touched the edge of the boat’s one side.

  With a nod of her head, Tethys acknowledged the human’s survival instincts. But even with an entire width of the boat between them, the female still wasn’t safe, and perhaps the human was intell
igent enough to know it, for a sad, desperate look flooded her features.

  Tethys hesitated, and then gave the human an equally sad smile. She would take no joy in this one’s death either. The human was a fighter, young though she was, and perhaps deserved a better fate than the one planned for her.

  But the ocean deserve a better fate than what humans had left it. With a powerful flick of her tail, Tethys drove herself higher out of the water. Between the webbing of her tightly fisted fingers, a power built, water aided by magic solidified into a long trident with bright crystalline points.

  Half twisting in a powerful thrust, the siren sent the trident flying. It speared the female in the upper chest, sending her flipping over the side of the boat to land with a great splash on the other side.

  Tethys moved quickly, darting under the boat and up the other side to the body’s location. The woman was already dead, a clean, quick death. Grasping the corpse, she heaved it up and out of the water and onto the boat where it would be safe from sharks, since she still had need of the body.

  Once done, she sank below the waves in search of the one whose distress was so suddenly overwhelming.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lillian thumbed off the phone and tossed it to the opposite end of the couch with a practiced accuracy as she finished scrawling contact information on her notepad. “The fairgrounds are booked, and the call just before that one was the jousters confirming they can do the three day midweek appointment. They can’t manage the weekend, they’re already booked for another fair. The hall just called back to say we can have it for Saturday after all, so the medieval banquet has a location.”

  “Told you not to worry.” Gran didn’t look up from where she sat at the desk, leaning over her keyboard typing.

  “It really was a miracle getting the hall last minute. There had been a wedding booked but the bride just contracted chicken pox. Poor thing, guess she never had them as a child. But the timing.” Lillian groaned in sympathy for the unknown woman.

  “She’ll recover.”