The House of Gaian ta-3

by Anne Bishop

  Dropping the cloth, he turned to study the old woman.

  Despite what Ubel and the other Inquisitors thought, he had not grown soft and he had not been idle last winter. He had thought, he had studied, he had prepared. But he hadn't had the one thing he'd needed to try his experiments. He hadn't had a witch.

  He walked a circle around the cage, murmuring the words of the spell he'd created for just this purpose. The protective circle wasn't meant to keep anything out, it was meant to contain what went in.

  When he was done, he positioned himself slightly behind and to the right of the woman's chair, then placed his right hand on her shoulder. It gave him an almost erotic pleasure to feel her shudder at his touch.

  He closed his eyes. Breathed slowly, deeply, evenly. And began to draw power out of her, just as he'd drawn power out of the Old Places. He felt her resist, felt her pulling the power back into herself. Calmly, he slapped the side of her head, where the wound from the missing ear was still raw. While she gasped from the pain, he clamped his hand on her shoulder again and sucked her power into himself. Sucked it up and sucked it up . . . until he sucked her dry.

  He raised his hand, pointing it at the covered cage. As he released the power, sending it toward the cage like an arrow shot from a bow, he said, "Twist and change. Change and twist. Become what I would make of thee. As I will, so mote it be."

  The squirrel inside the cage shrieked as the power he unleashed struck it. Shrieked and shrieked . . . and then went silent.

  Adolfo lowered his hand. His throat felt parched, his bones felt hollow. He wanted to close the circle and pull the cover off the wooden cage. But power still swirled, trapped within the protective circle. He could wait.

  He looked at the woman. Her head lolled to one side. Drool dribbled from one corner of her mouth. With proper care and proper nourishment, she might recover enough to regain some of her power. But not enough to be useful to him. He would give her to the apprentices. One could not learn to use an Inquisitor's tools without practice.

  Two hours later, Adolfo returned to the room.

  There was no sound from the wooden cage.

  He spent several minutes trying to sense any lingering power from the spell he'd cast. There was none. Even the power he'd used to create the protective circle had been absorbed.

  Gingerly taking hold of a corner of the cloth, he stepped back as he pulled the cloth away. Then he studied what was inside the cage.

  When his men used the Inquisitor's Gift to draw magic from an Old Place and release it again to twist the things it touched, there was no control over what was changed. It might cause a new well to go dry, or a cow might birth a two-headed calf, or a field of grain might whither and die overnight. . . or something living might be changed into something out of a nightmare. A flesh eater. A soul eater. A nighthunter. But there had been no way to control that twisted magic, no way to use it for a specific purpose.

  Until now.

  Even though he was certain the creature was dead, he approached the cage cautiously.

  The squirrel had changed into a nighthunter. Almost. One hind leg, or what was left of it, was still furred. Unable to escape from the cage to hunt for other prey, the nighthunter had turned on the unchanged part of itself, ripping through flesh, snapping bone… devouring while it bled to death.

  Excitement shivered through Adolfo. There hadn't been enough power left in the old witch to complete the change. He would have to soften the next one faster so that her body was still ripe enough with power to provide what he needed.

  Despite the creature's incomplete transformation, the experiment had worked. Before, it had been chance and the strength and number of Inquisitors drawing power from an Old Place that determined the creation of nighthunters.

  Now he could create them whenever he chose.

  The remains would have to be burned. He wasn't ready to share this with his Inquisitors yet. Which meant giving the task to someone he could trust to remain silent for the time being.

  Ubel.

  Yes. He'd have Ubel take care of it.

  "And then, my fine Inquisitor," Adolfo said quietly, "once you've seen what's in this room, look me in the eyes and tell me I've gone soft."

  Chapter 7

  dark of the moon

  Selena and Rhyann rode into the Old Place, reining in a few steps after crossing the boundary they recognized by the slightly different feel of the land.

  "This is it." Selena rested a hand on Mistrunner's neck to keep the gray stallion quiet. "This is where the Ladies of the Moon will gather tomorrow night to see who will become the Huntress."

  "Are you sure?" Rhyann asked, looking around. "It doesn't feel any different than the other Old Places we've seen on the way here."

  "I'm sure," Selena replied. Power thrummed through the land, but it wasn't the power from the Great Mother's four branches. This was power from the Fae side of her heritage, seeking a way to fill her. It's not time yet. Not quite yet.

  She raised her arm, and her hand swung like a compass needle until it was aligned with the core of that power. "Somewhere in that direction. That's where the Fae will gather. That's where the power is gathering."

  Rhyann frowned at her. "What does it feel like?"

  Selena lowered her arm. "Heavy. Full."

  "And how do you feel?"

  Ripe. Juicy. Swollen with desire. For what, I'm not even sure. The power calls me. I have to answer.

  "Selena?"

  She saw the fierce concern in Rhyann's eyes. They had lived in the same house, had argued and laughed and cried together for years. In another day or two, they would separate to follow their own life journeys, and things would never be the same again. "I'm going to miss you, little sister."

  "We have some time left," Rhyann said quietly. "Tonight is still the dark of the moon."

  Selena shook her head. "Endings and beginnings. Tomorrow the new moon rises, and the Fae will gather for whatever will come."

  "These tests or challenges or whatever they're called always happen at the full moon. That's the way it goes in the stories we've heard about the Fae."

  "Not this time. The power will rise with the new moon. I feel it." Selena sighed. She was nervous, even a little frightened. Her face and her ability to change into another form were all she had in common with the Fae, all that made her one of them. She didn't know the ceremonies or rituals that were used for these tests of power. The Fae would surely realize that, resent that. And yet, if she did become the Lady of the Moon, the Fae would be hers to command—and their strength, combined with human and witch, might be enough to save all of Sylvalan's people from destruction.

  It always came down to that need, to defend the Great Mother and protect all Her children from those who would destroy and devour. So she would find her courage, swallow her fear, and meet the Fae tomorrow night. Besides, she wasn't sure if the power that had drawn her there would let her walk away.

  "Come on," she said, gathering the reins. "Let's pay our respects to the Daughters who live here and beg some hospitality."

  Before Rhyann could reply, Mistrunner snorted softly and Fox, Rhyann's dark horse, stamped a foot as if in agreement.

  The women looked at each other and shrugged. Both horses were almost too intelligent for comfort, as well as stubborn when something wasn't to their liking, but those traits had been the reason why Selena had been able to talk her father out of hiring men to escort them on this journey.

  As long as those two are under you, you'll be safe enough, her father had said. There's nothing that can outrun them, and they won't take you anyplace that's not to their liking.

  The two horses swung into an easy trot, apparently having decided their riders had tarried long enough. They moved silently on the wide trail through the woods, their hooves making no sound.

  How did two witches end up with Fae horses? Selena wondered, not for the first time. Fox had shown up late last autumn, taken one look at Rhyann and tried to follow her into the ho
use. He wouldn't leave and wouldn't let anyone else near him until she loudly announced that he belonged to her. After that, the dark horse with lethal hooves acted like a docile pet.

  Mistrunner. . . She still wasn't sure about Mistrunner. She'd been out in a clearing three years ago, celebrating the Great Mother and the full moon, playing with the power that swirled inside her. She'd braided the strength of the earth to moonlight, dazzled it with air and drops of water, warmed it with the heat of fire. When she was done, she'd stared at the glittering path that rose from the land and disappeared into the night sky, uncertain if she was delighted or uneasy about what she had done.

  And then she heard the desperate, terrified scream, and shouted, "Here!"

  A heavy mist poured out of the sky, obscuring the top end of her glittering path. A gray yearling burst out of that mist, galloping down the path she'd created as if it were a solid road, stumbling a little when his hooves touched firm earth. He raced past her, getting as far away from the path as he could without leaving the clearing.

  Unnerved that something had come down a path she'd thought led nowhere and had no real substance, she'd unraveled the magic and grounded the power—and her glittering path disappeared. Which left her with a terrified young animal that had decided she was the only safe thing in a strange world. So she ended up taking him home with her and naming him Mistrunner.

  She suspected he had come from Tir Alainn, but she still didn't know what had terrified him or how he'd found her glittering path and recognized it as a way to reach the world . . . and safety. She never tried to find out who he belonged to—and she admitted to herself that part of her apprehension in meeting the Fae was that someone would recognize him and want him back.

  "We're here," Rhyann said.

  Selena blinked. "Where?"

  "Where your body has been but you haven't," Rhyann replied testily. She leaned toward Selena. "We aren't home anymore. You can't get so lost in thought you're not aware of the world. You don't know what's out there. Or who is out there."

  Feeling her shoulders start to hunch at the justified scolding, Selena straightened in the saddle. "You're right. I shouldn't let my thoughts wander so far. I'm just. . . I guess I'm nervous."

  "You don't have to do this."

  "You wouldn't say that if the power was pulling at you the way it's pulling at me."

  "Well, it won't impress the Fae if you're knocked out of the saddle on the way to this gathering because you weren't paying attention to the low-hanging branch in front of your face."

  What an embarrassing picture that made.

  As she brushed her heels against Mistrunner's sides to give him the signal to move forward toward the buildings up ahead, she said in her best long-suffering, big-sister tone of voice, "Mother, grant me the patience needed to deal with a younger sister."

  "The Great Mother doesn't care about such things."

  "She would if she had a younger sister," Selena replied sourly.

  "Maybe the moon is Her younger sister," Rhyann said, a mischievous light in her eyes. "Maybe that's why they play this constant game of catch-me-if-you-can."

  "It's possible. The younger sister is always playing with the tides while the elder moves sedately through the seasons."

  "Sedately? Phuuu."

  "Brat."

  "Mouse breath."

  Selena's mouth fell open. "Mouse breath?"

  "Remember the time Mother found you in the barn with half a mouse?" Rhyann said primly.

  "I was still getting used to changing into a puppy!" And had been learning, usually the hard way, to curb the instincts of a shadow hound that had hunted down its prey.

  "And Mother wouldn't let you change back until she was sure the mouse bits had gone through you—one way or another."

  She remembered the scolding that had followed the discovery—and the flat-handed whack on the head she'd received when she'd snarled at her mother for taking the rest of the mouse away.

  "I only did it once," Selena muttered.

  "Which is one time more than I ever did it," Rhyann said. Then she raised her hand in greeting to the man who stepped out of the cottage, followed by two women. "Blessings of the day to you."

  Faced with three strangers, Selena gave up the idea of leaning over and giving Rhyann's braid a hard yank and worked to compose her expression into something more suitably adult. "Blessings of the day to you."

  The man stepped forward, nerves and temper plain on his face. "And what would the Fair Folk be wanting with the likes of us?"

  "Chad," the younger of the two women said, placing a restraining hand on the man's arm. She studied Rhyann for a moment, then Selena. "What can we offer you, Ladies?"

  "Your hospitality for the night, if you're willing," Selena said coolly. They'd been met with wariness and suspicion at almost every Old Place they'd been to since leaving home—because of her. Because she looked Fae, and the Fae, for reasons none of the witches in those Old Places understood, were keeping watch in a way that made the witches and the Small Folk uneasy.

  "But. . . wouldn't you be more comfortable in Tir Alainn?" the woman asked.

  "I don't know," Selena said. "I've never been there. I am Fae because that was my mother's legacy to me. But I am first, and always, a Daughter of the House of Gaian."

  That startled them.

  The older woman, the crone of the family judging by her looks, said hesitantly, "You're a witch and Fae?"

  "Yes."

  A look passed between the two women, while the man watched them anxiously.

  "Would you be a Lady of the Moon?" the crone asked.

  "I am," Selena replied.

  "You're gathering with the others to see who will become the Huntress?"

  "Yes."

  The crone smiled. "Come in and be welcome, Ladies. Oh, yes, you are welcome."

  As Selena and Rhyann dismounted, the man, who introduced himself as Chad, said, "If you're easy about it, I can take your horses to the barn and give them a light feed."

  "Is there somewhere they could graze for now?" Rhyann asked.

  "Aye, there's a pasture by the barn. We've been keeping the animals close since—" He stopped, his lips pressing together in a tight line.

  Since the Fae started arriving, Selena finished. There was anger here, and she was going to find out why. It was becoming clear that the Fae were distrusted and disliked, even feared, and nothing short of desperation was going to make the humans and witches welcome their presence.

  "We'll go with you to the barn," Selena said. "It will help these two settle in better."

  Chad turned his head, and called, "Parker. Come help with the horses."

  A boy appeared in the doorway. He hesitated for a moment before joining his father. His eyes were wide, his face filled with awed delight.

  "Oh, they're beauties!" Parker said.

  Both horses snorted and laid their ears back tight to their heads.

  "He was talking about you, not me," Selena said dryly, resting a hand on Mistrunner's neck.

  The boy said hastily, "Oh, you're pretty too." He gave his father an anxious look.

  Rhyann burst out laughing. "Let it go, laddy-boy, and just show us where to put these two." She stepped around Fox until she was facing the dark horse. "Behave. If you act like the gentleman I know you can be, perhaps the boy can be coaxed into giving you a treat."

  Both horses swung their ears forward.

  Selena pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

  Chad cleared his throat, and muttered, "This way."

  They followed father and son to the barn. The horses were unsaddled and given a quick rubdown before being escorted to the barn door that led to the fenced pasture.

  Keeping her eyes on the boy, who had continued into the pasture with the horses, Selena said quietly, "Now. Tell me why you're angry with the Fae."

  "It's nothing to do with you, Lady, and I'm sorry we didn't give you the welcome guests deserve."

  A flash of anger si
zzled under her skin. She struggled to bank the branch of fire that wanted to answer the heat of her feelings. "Do you know what's been happening in the east? Do you understand that Sylvalan is at risk?"

  "I understand well enough," Chad replied. He kept his voice low, but it was edged with temper. "I understand well enough that more than trouble could be heading our way. Mother's tits, woman! The minstrels have been singing songs about the Black Coats and their evil for months now. And a few days ago, the baron who rules this county came to the Old Place to pay his respects. The baron. A responsible man, one who looks after his own, but he's never come here. Came near to scaring my Ella out of her wits when he showed up with the squire and a handful of guards."

  "What did he want?" Rhyann asked.

  "Said the last barons' council made him realize he'd been neglectful of some of his duties. Said the Old Place wasn't part of the land he ruled."

  "It wouldn't be," Selena said. "The Old Places belong to the Mother's Daughters."

  Chad nodded. "He wanted us to know that it was his intention to be a good neighbor, and if we needed help from his people, we need only ask." He smiled. "He meant well, but this isn't his home village and he doesn't spend more than a couple of days here each year to make sure the squire and the magistrate are keeping things right and proper, so he didn't know how things stand with us here."

  "And how do things stand?"

  "The squire is my father's cousin, and one of the guards who came with the baron that day is the brother of my older brother's wife. Ella's brother is the village blacksmith. So, you see, we've already got ties to the 'baron's people.' Doesn't matter if those Black Coats come here or come to the village. We'll stand together."

  "I'm glad to hear it, but you haven't answered my question about the Fae," Selena said.

  Chad's expression hardened. He was silent for a long time, watching Parker's slow return to the barn. "They aren't good neighbors. Oh, I know they all live in their grand Tir Alainn, but that's no excuse for—" He blew out a breath. "If they want to go riding, there's plenty of open land. There's no reason to ride down a man's crops, spoiling the harvest he needs to feed his family or sell at the market. They've no right to steal chickens from the tenant farms. They've plenty of coins in their pockets. They can buy a chicken in the market same as other folks. And they've no business seducing young girls and leaving them with babes in their bellies. I'm not saying it's all the man's fault, but if he sires a child, he should do right by that child."