The Wild Rites Saga Omnibus 01 to 04

by Anna McIlwraith

  Emma suspected that without her, they’d have set the pace at a run and covered three times the distance, but it was nice of Leah to lie. “I think the bond with Fern is the only thing keeping me upright, and I can’t feel my feet,” Emma said. Leah laughed, then Emma stumbled as they climbed the embankment up to the treeline, and Leah shot out a hand to steady her.

  “Em? Something wrong?”

  “Aside from my burning thighs and pounding head, nah.”

  Leah frowned. “If you’ve got a headache you probably need more fluids. We’ll sort you out at the camp.”

  Emma made an affirmative noise. “I just assumed you were born jaguar,” she added, changing the subject. “One of Seshua’s guards and all.”

  “It’s true the king is an elitist,” Leah said. “And sexist to boot. But he isn’t stupid. With me he saw the chance to gain a good fighter as well as cut off a major arm of the Panama cocaine syndicate. Don’t get too excited,” she said when she saw the look dawning on Emma’s face. “Seshua wasn’t cleaning up the streets, he was taking out the competition. That was the eighties though. He’s not into that anymore for the same reasons I was interested in getting out, too much risk and not enough money. A lot of money, but for that work, not enough. Anyway, he offered me more money than I ever would have made trafficking, so here I am.”

  They stepped into the green gloom of the woods and Emma turned to look at Leah. “Seshua paid you to become a jaguar? A shapechanger?”

  Leah’s brown eyes suddenly looked older. If she’d been the age she currently looked in the eighties when she was changed, that put her actual age anywhere between fifty and sixty five years old — she looked maybe thirty. “The king didn’t pay me,” she said. “That’s not how it works. He paid for me to get my family out of Columbia. They’re in Canada now. My father — he was Columbian — died before I met Seshua, the business killed him, but mom made it back to Ontario with my little brothers. They both have families. I have nieces and nephews. Never met them, but I have pictures, and it’s enough. In return I gave myself into Seshua’s service.” She shrugged. “Worth it. Better than running drugs. Here.” She put the toiletries kit into Emma’s hands. “Don’t go far.”

  Emma had camped rough before, with no one else to carry her pack and no convenient toiletry supplies either, but she’d never tried to match the pace of six other superhuman creatures and one possibly-immortal sorcerer who never seemed to tire. She was grateful for small luxuries. Unfortunately the hand sanitizer gel stung like hell on her hands, which were a little raw from handling the bow. She made sure to put her gloves on before returning to the others.

  The first thing Emma noticed as they came out of the trees and headed down to the beach was the roaring fire Shadi was tending, but when Leah whistled to herself, Emma noticed the second thing and her mouth dropped open. Horne and Red Sun were waist-deep in the river and they were naked.

  Standing several yards apart, they both seemed to be peering down into the rushing water. Before Emma could ask Fern what the hell was going on, Horne dove in a blur of speed and with a surprising lack of splashing water. When he broke the surface, he tossed a gigantic fish to the shore, then flicked wet hair out of his eyes and went back to scanning the river depths. A second later, Red dove in a blur, there was a tiny splash, and another fish joined the first.

  “Don’t look at me,” Fern told Shadi, setting his pack down. “I’m a city boy. Got no idea what to do with those. But you can teach me, if you know.”

  Shadi swore in Arabic, and Emma turned away to hide her smile as the son of the magi and master of assassins began lecturing Fern on how to clean and gut a fish. His tone reminded Emma of her fourth-grade math teacher. Sitting down on a nice flat rock, breathing deep as her thighs screamed and her knees creaked, she decided not to mention that she was more than capable of cleaning and gutting a fish. She didn’t like it, but she could do it. Volunteering herself, however, would mean she’d have to take her gloves off. She was hoping her freaky accelerated healing thing would work its magic over the next little while; she couldn’t handle being fussed over any more. She was also worried that Shadi would stop teaching her the bow if he knew, and since that was one of the only things capable of distracting her from worrying about Ricky and Anton and the maidens and Alexi and Seshua…

  Leah planted her ass on the rock next to Emma and handed her a foil drinking pouch. “Careful, it’s blackberry flavor. You need the electrolytes.” As Emma took it, Leah leaned back and sighed. “View from here ain’t bad at all.”

  Watching Horne and Red Sun wade farther out into the river, their hair wet and water glinting off bare skin in the sunlight, Emma had to agree.

  The freaky accelerated healing thing worked just fine on Emma’s hands, but did nothing to ease the throbbing headache that had set up camp behind her left eye. As they fed and watered themselves and then eradicated any trace they’d been there at all, the pain wasn’t terrible, but by the time they stopped again for the night she’d taken three Tylenol and was still miserable. Fern pushing energy into her through the merge hadn’t touched it either, and her pain was starting to make him irritable too.

  They made camp in the woods within earshot of the rushing water, in a rough clearing sheltered on one side by a high ridge of rock that jutted out, forming a shallow shelter. On another side a massive fallen tree provided yet more cover, overgrown with shrubs and vines and protecting them from some of the chill breeze blowing off the river. Under cover of trees, the light was fading fast, and so was what little warmth the afternoon sun had brought.

  Emma, banned from helping set up camp, huddled against Fern as Shadi set up a small campfire and lit it without Emma seeing how he did so. There was no smoke to be seen either — another sorcerer’s trick — but Emma could still smell it. Most importantly, she could feel the heat from the flames, and with Fern’s arm around her back she was almost comfortable. Except for the migraine. Emma had never had a migraine in her life, but she was pretty sure she had one now.

  Instead of following Ivan as he changed again and went to scout their territory, Fatima came and crouched by the fire next to Emma. “You are still in pain?”

  Emma squinted at the jackal warrior. “A little. Mostly tired.”

  Em… Fern’s mental voice was tinged with warning. You do not need to lie to us. Everyone here can either sense, smell, hear, or otherwise read your pain.

  Damn it. If only she could shield more, but they had to stay merged.

  Fatima had glanced up at Fern’s face, but her gaze returned to Emma, firelight reflected in her eyes. She smelled of smoke and jasmine. And a little like wet dog. “I might be able to help,” she said. “I would have to touch you, but it would not be like before, I promise.”

  Before her mind could turn to what had happened when Fatima touched her the first time, she took the jackal at her word and nodded her assent. “What can you do though?”

  Fatima placed her left hand on Emma’s temple. It was hot and dry. “The jackal priestesses are the daughters of Nephthys, and the goddess of night grants us rudimentary healing magic. Essential on the battlefield. Ah,” she sighed, frowning. “There is nothing I can do.” She kept her hand on Emma’s head, gaze turning inward, and Emma resisted the urge to flinch away.

  “There’s nothing you can do?” Fern asked.

  Fatima refocused on Emma’s face and took her hand away. “There is nothing wrong. No injury or imbalance for my power to address.” She lifted one shoulder. “I am sorry.”

  Emma shook her head, regretted it, and put a hand on Fatima’s arm. “It’s okay. Just drink more water I guess?”

  One brow rose. “My gift from the goddess tells me you are perfectly hydrated, my lady. It isn’t dehydration. It felt more like growing pains.”

  Cold claimed Emma’s insides. “Growing pains?”

  Fatima inclined her head. “Your bones are singing. Just those in your face and skull. I am afraid I cannot say why.”

  �
�Holy fuck.” Emma put her face in her hands and closed her eyes, trying to breathe, pain dancing behind her eye sockets. Every now and then the ache speared into one ear, and then subsided. “Am I growing horns?”

  Fern slowed her pulse without asking, and she didn’t resent him for it. His hand smoothed slow circles over her back. “Horns would be cool.”

  Shadi cleared his throat. “Imps, satyrs, and succubi all sport horns, but only succubi are born without them. The horns grow in when they reach maturity.”

  “Not helping, Shadi,” Emma said through clenched teeth.

  “I don’t know which part is least helpful,” Fern said. “The part where he’s implying you might be a succubus, or the part where he’s telling us that imps, satyrs, and succubi are all real. Never heard of ‘em being real, but then I’m only a hundred and four. Ish. Either way,” he added, voice turning dark, “Shut up about the horns, Shadi.”

  Emma looked up at Fern in surprise. Her pain really must have affected him.

  Red Sun called out from somewhere behind the ridge of rock. “What about horns?”

  “I am quite sure the demonkind retreated to their own realm centuries ago,” Shadi said. “For what it’s worth.”

  Covering her eyes with one hand, Emma held up the other in surrender. “Please, stop, my mind is boggling and my head is pounding and I don’t think I’ll survive if you make me laugh too.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about.” When Emma took her hand from her eyes, Shadi raised both brows. The bastard.

  Before Emma could think past the pain in her head to come up with a witty retort, Ivan loped into the clearing on four feet. Emma was almost used to seeing a giant gray wolf trotting around their camp, but his presence up close still raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She also found him beautiful and never wanted to look away from his beast, so when he flashed back to human, she got an eyeful. The whole eyeful.

  He crouched, tossing blond hair out of his eyes. “Perimeter secure. For the moment. I volunteer for first watch.” He narrowed his eyes at Emma and cocked his head. “Fatima could not ease your pain?”

  “We’ve just had that discussion. No offense Ivan, but I don’t feel like — hey!” He’d flashed back to wolf — Emma blinked white spots out of her vision — and he padded around the fire straight up to her.

  “It’s all right,” Fatima murmured, and Fern and Shadi relaxed back into sitting positions. Emma trusted the jackal warrior, but Ivan was freaking huge. Then he shoved his muzzle under her hand and all of her fear evaporated at his touch; they were bound by the pledge, and by the pack magic that ran from Katenka to the wolf princess’s people and so through Emma as well.

  Pledge, pack, ties forged of blood and spirit. Her skin hummed with the rightness of it. She dared not stroke and scratch his ears the way she did with Katenka, but she buried her fingers in his ruff, marveling at his size and at the miracle of getting to touch something that was never meant to be tamed.

  Then she marveled at the warmth that spread through her bones and dampened the pain in her skull. Her head and face still throbbed, but she no longer felt like needles were being jabbed into her ears and eye sockets. She sighed, and inwardly, Fern did too.

  “He thought the pack bonds might allow him to mute some of the pain,” Fatima said. Through Emma’s bond with the jackals — and with Ivan — Emma sensed what Fatima didn’t say. Ivan was not at all comfortable being so close to anyone, which was why Fatima had tried to help first.

  Ivan lowered himself to his belly beside her with his head raised, sphinx-style, face angled away from the fire. His ears remained alert and pointed forward, occasionally flicking toward a sound one of the others made. He was calm but not relaxed. Emma let go of his ruff and went to fold her hand in her own lap, and without turning his head or curling his lip, Ivan growled. She put her hand back, letting her arm rest across his shoulders. His ears flicked once and she felt his satisfaction through the bond. The contact was difficult for him, but he’d made up his mind.

  Wedged between Ivan and Fern, still warm from walking and from the fire and Ivan’s touch through the pack bonds, Emma dozed. Every now and then she opened her eyes, but mostly she slept, lulled by the absence of pain in her skull as much as by the exhaustion. The sun went down, and tents went up. Weapons were cleaned. Emma didn’t notice at first how cold it was getting, but when she woke again, this time to the sound and scent of roasting fish, she started shivering and couldn’t stop.

  Red was sitting by the fire with them, but Emma couldn’t see the others. Red handed Fern a roll of sleeping bag without a word and Fern draped it over her before wrapping her in his arms. Ivan pressed closer to her, resting his head on her leg. He was heavy but he was very warm. She was still dressed in full gear, from boots to snow jacket, and she wanted badly to take her shoes off and stretch her feet. But she also wanted to keep all her toes from freezing off.

  Ivan lifted his head and whined at her.

  “What?” she said, teeth chattering. He sneezed and opened his long jaws, bumping his teeth against one of her boots. “Oh,” Emma murmured. “I guess the pledge bond’s working. You saying you’ll keep my feet warm for me?”

  The look in his eye suggested she was an idiot. She took that as a yes, and started unlacing her boots with fingers that were still stiff from handling Shadi’s bow. Ivan growled again, short this time.

  “Is he okay?” Fern said.

  “He’s fine.” Emma kicked off one boot. “Opinionated though.” She wrestled the other boot off and bent forward as Ivan moved to curl up against her feet. “Since you’re preventing me from freezing to death,” she told Ivan in low tones, “I’ll let it slide this time, but I don’t need you fussing over me as well. I’ve got more than enough nannies as it is, thanks.”

  Ivan yawned broadly and managed to flick her in the face with his tail as he got settled. Since she was curling her toes against his luxurious pelt, and it felt utterly delicious, Emma didn’t feel she had much cause for retaliation.

  “Some well armed nannies you got, flower,” Red said with a wink. “How’s your head?”

  “Do I have horns yet?”

  Red grinned. “Nope.”

  “Then it’s just fine.” Emma closed her eyes and relaxed back into Fern’s body, taking a deep breath. He was more solid than he’d ever been, but his scent was the same, clean and warm and comforting. She opened her eyes and met Red’s gaze, lit amber by the fire. “Did we get as far as you’d hoped today?”

  “We did,” he lied smoothly. Emma gave him a look. He sighed. “Pledge bond, huh?”

  “Yup.” Emma smiled as Fern suppressed a laugh.

  Red’s gaze went up to Fern’s face before he looked away, leaning forward to rotate the fish on its makeshift spit over the fire. “How do you do it?” he said.

  Emma snorted. “Gee, thanks Red.”

  “I meant no offense, Em,” Red said softly.

  Fern stirred against Emma’s back. “The Enam-Vesh bond is far more intense than the pledge,” Fern said. How he could sound cheerful after twelve hours of grueling hike, Emma had no idea, but he did. “But my people are far more communal in nature than you carnivores, so it comes easier to us, I think. Yeah, even more than you,” he added as Ivan lifted an ear. “Pack structure isn’t communal. There’s a difference.”

  Ivan sneezed in response. Emma sensed reluctant agreement through the pledge bond.

  “And the bears are the most solitary of all the races,” Fern said. “Except maybe for snakes.”

  Emma twisted to look up at him. “How long have you known Red’s a bear?”

  Fern’s smile was sad and didn’t reach his eyes. “Since Russia.”

  Technically, they were still in Russia, but Emma knew what he meant.

  Red swore softly and jerked his fingers back from the fire. “Damn. Think the fish is done. Anyhow, I’m not used to bein’ the one with someone else in their head all the time.”

  “I’m not in you
r head all the time,” Emma pointed out. “That takes effort.” Besides, she said via their telepathic link, you invited me into your head first. Which I don’t regret, by the way.

  To Emma’s immense surprise, Red flushed and looked away. She’d meant that she didn’t regret their telepathic link — she hadn’t been talking about the rest of it. The kiss. But since she didn’t regret that either, she saw no graceful way to untangle the mess she’d made.

  “Worried you’re losing your mystery, Red?” Fern asked, a grin in his voice.

  Thank God for Fern. The moment broken, Red chuckled and came to his feet, dusting his hand against one thigh. “Maybe, Fern, maybe. Let’s eat.”

  The others appeared at the edges of the clearing without a sound and came to sit by the fire, and for a while there was no talk. After almost twelve hours of hiking, Emma was so hungry the fish tasted like heaven, even though they’d had the exact same thing for lunch. She doubted she’d feel that way in a few days, but just then it was the best thing she’d ever eaten. They rationed out some of the dried fruit from their packs as well. There was no chance of them starving no matter how long they stayed away from civilization — with several accomplished hunters and Red’s ability to jump anywhere in the world and bring back supplies — but the subsistence fare still made Emma dwell on just how isolated they were.

  Also, Red wasn’t Traveling anywhere until he’d spent some time in the shape of his beast and gotten some more sleep. He looked almost transparent with exhaustion. When Red felt her attention on him and met her gaze across the fire, the look in his eyes and the tightness in his jaw told her she probably didn’t look much better than he did.

  You don’t look that bad, Fern sent. Just tired.

  She turned to him. His eyes were glowing embers in the firelight, and his face was just as stark and sharp-boned as ever, but there were no longer any hollows under his cheekbones or bruised circles under his eyes. For the first time since she’d met him, he looked robust. He’d taken his jacket off to drape it over Emma’s lap, and his shoulders were broad and muscular beneath the gray thermal sweater; his Adam’s apple no longer looked like it could poke someone’s eye out. And looking into his eyes was like touching a live wire. He was still Fern, and his gaze was still home to her, but it was like he’d woken up. Or shed his old skin for new.