The Wild Rites Saga Omnibus 01 to 04

by Anna McIlwraith

  Meanwhile Emma’s lower back ached like a bruise from the awkward position she was perched in, and cramps shot up and down the backs of her legs like cold fire. She would have dismounted and walked in spite of her exhaustion, but the mountain trail had taken them high into stony crags, and the path turned to little more than a thin, crumbling lip of stone with a terrifying drop to one side and sheer cliff face rising into the darkness on the other.

  The drop hardly bothered the shapechangers, who would survive a fall in the unlikely event they failed to catch themselves if they slipped. Emma would not. She might have accelerated healing, hair down to her ass and a shiny new pair of fangs, but none of that made her any less susceptible to losing her footing and falling hundreds of feet to her death. Ivan was lean and nimble, and, Emma acknowledged, not so frightened for her safety that the responsibility of carrying her distracted him. Yes, he was focused and vigilant, but he was calm and unafraid, too.

  Fern and Red Sun, on the other hand, were so anxious for her they could barely contain their beasts, and Emma couldn’t spare the focus it would take to soothe them through the bonds. She was too busy trying not to look down.

  She didn’t know how long they’d been climbing that treacherous path up the mountain face when Ivan turned his head to the side and pitched his voice for her ears. “Devotchka ,” he said. “Ahead. Do you see?”

  Since her eyes were scrunched shut, the answer to that question was an automatic no. She swallowed back nausea at the thought of opening her eyes and looking across the vast expanse of shadowed void. “See what,” she said, cracking her lids enough to be able to focus on Ivan’s profile and nothing more.

  He exhaled, breath pluming thick in the cold air. “Lights.”

  Emma looked up. Her stomach turned over, but she breathed out, focusing on keeping her gaze level. Ivan was right; in the distance and at a higher elevation, there were lights. Butter-yellow in the silvered dark, irregular in shape and size. Impossible to tell what they were.

  Impossible for her, anyway. She turned her face into the bend of Ivan’s neck so the wind wouldn’t snatch away her words. “What are they, Ivan?”

  He started as though surprised. “You are human, I forget. Windows. They are windows. I see larger openings, too, that are not lit. I wager it is the Monastery.”

  Emma made an assenting noise and took note of the suspicion in Ivan’s thickly accented voice. Would he prove difficult when they reached their destination? He was still a wild card, for all they were currently trusting him with her life. She let the thought go as she buried her nose in the warmth of Ivan’s neck, closed her eyes, and concentrated on hanging on as the climb got steeper.

  There was no point agonizing over Ivan’s psychological stability now. The pledge was made, they were bound, and they would live with the consequences — whatever those might turn out to be. The magic of the Caller of the Blood seemed to know what it was doing somehow. Emma couldn’t think of it as hers, although she knew no-one else made that distinction; she felt what they did not, felt the magic move through her with a will of its own. No, not will — intent. There was intent at the heart of the magic, and it wasn’t Emma’s. An alien design moving pieces into place and binding them through her with the pledge. And it made sense — the Caller of the Blood was prophesied to unite the races and cure the wasting illness. A simple plan with a complex execution.

  Except for Alan, of course. He wasn’t part of the plan. What would happen to the races now that Emma was bound to him? What would happen to her?

  Fern’s thoughts stirred within hers. You said that the magic chose Alexi to anchor you, instead of Alan. I don’t exactly know what that means, but I know Alexi moved heaven and earth to save you. I’m inclined to trust the magic on this one. I think the races are in good hands.

  If Alexi survives the war with the priesthood, Emma replied, gritting her teeth.

  Mental warmth pulsed through the merge. You know how amused he’d be if he knew you were actually worried about him, right? He’s ancient, pureblooded and more powerful than ever. He will be fine.

  Emma couldn’t find the words to tell Fern how Alexi had looked when he’d made her promise not to find him, to leave him to the war with the priesthood. The look in his eyes. The fear.

  But Fern didn’t need her to have the words. He was afraid for you, Fern said gently.

  Pull your head out of mine and watch your step, Emma grumbled.

  Of everyone here, I’m the one who’ll take the least amount of damage in a fall, he sent with a mental huff of impatience. Tarantula, remember?

  Oh, Emma remembered. You know a normal tarantula can be killed falling off a bookshelf, right?

  Fern laughed in her mind this time. That’s because a normal tarantula has an average legspan of between four and seven inches, and weighs less than a small bird. Its exoskeleton is about as strong as cardboard. My exoskeleton is a hell of a lot more resilient than that. But I’m flattered you’ve done your homework.

  Lifting her head just enough to glare at the back of his, Emma gave a mental scoff. I have a biology degree. I didn’t need any extra homework on arachnids.

  She felt his broad smile. Didn’t need it. But y’did it. I’ve seen your browser history, Em.

  Well —

  “Halt!” Came Keti’s cry. He and the first few of their column were out of sight, where the trail took a hard left and a jagged tooth of stone obscured what lay beyond. Ivan stopped in his tracks, entire body gone taut beneath Emma. Keti said something else to those up ahead, and though Emma couldn’t make out the words, Ivan and Fern clearly could. The merge flooded Emma with worry and suspicion from Fern, while Ivan wrapped his arms tight around Emma’s legs, hands strong and radiating heat even through the material of her pants.

  “There is a bridge ahead,” Ivan said, turning his face to her. “It is too dangerous for me to carry you. You will have to walk across.”

  “No problem. Are the others okay?” Emma moved to climb off him even though the thought of doing so made her stomach want to crawl up behind her eyeballs, but his hands tightened on her.

  “Not just yet, devotchka . The others are fine.”

  His tone didn’t exactly scream “fine.” Fern?

  It’s all right. He looked over his shoulder and met her eyes, although she couldn’t see his. It’s slow going over that bridge though.

  Turned out that was because it was a rope bridge.

  Over a yawning chasm of darkness.

  Wonderful.

  Keti, Leah and Horne had already crossed. They looked awfully small, all the way over on the other side of the vast crevasse that stretched to the left as far as Emma could see and opened out into empty void to the right. She remembered dozing off hours ago and dreaming of falling.

  She didn’t believe in prophetic dreams. At least she didn’t think she believed in them.

  There was no other way to get across.

  Red Sun was practically glued to her back as she approached the weathered rope bridge, legs stinging as the circulation returned to them, Ivan just ahead of her and Fern by her side. I can jump you across, Red spoke in her mind. The bridge is safe, but in your condition maybe you shouldn’t —

  She made an impatient noise at him. We keep your ability secret, just like we agreed. I’m going across that bridge. And waiting wasn’t going to stop her guts from cartwheeling, so she grabbed a handful of Fern’s jacket and gave him a nudge, and then the longest minute of her life began.

  Nothing could have prepared her for the way the rope and plank bridge pitched in the howling wind. Fern was carrying one of the big hiking packs, and the force of the gale hit the pack and made him sway like a drunk trying to walk a straight line. The planks creaked so loud they sounded like they were about to shatter. When Emma stumbled, catching herself on Fern, Red swore and grabbed the back waistband of her pants and she was too busy trying not to throw up to appreciate the warmth of his fist against her lower back.

  She made the
rest of the way across anchored by Fern and Red Sun, holding onto the rough rope handrail with one hand and feeling as though every step would be the one where she lost her footing and spilled over the edge into freezing, empty space. Every step she remembered the dream of falling, and shoved it out of her mind, only to remember again when she took the next damn step.

  Even when she finally put foot on solid rock, she refused to relax, and didn’t let go of Fern until they’d crossed the ledge where the bridge was anchored and stepped onto the thin, rocky soil of the trail where Keti, Leah, Horne and Ivan waited. Shadi and Fatima were right behind them, and Emma was slightly mollified to see Shadi looking as grim as she felt.

  The bridge had deposited them on a somewhat flatter, rocky plateau that was all silver stone and black shadows in the moonlight. Ahead, more cliffs rose, obscuring the view they’d had earlier of lights in the distant mountain face. Keti must have noted Emma’s expression as she searched for where the trail might lead them next.

  “Our passage will be easier for a while,” he said from beneath the deep hood that covered his distinctive hair and cast his eyes in shadow, pitching his voice above the wind. “We head into the cliffs now. But when the trail leads into the mountain, there will be no light.”

  “I’m not afraid of the dark,” Emma told him. “Only what’s in it.”

  One corner of Keti’s wide mouth tipped up. “Then there is nothing to fear but bats. Come.” With that he took to the trail, and they resumed their positions in single file.

  The trail wasn’t that hard to follow by moonlight; Emma walked, and it was bliss. Painful, but bliss. Even better when the trail moved deep into the shelter of overhanging rocks and collapsed slabs of stone, providing a little relief from the punishing winds. Her left ankle felt thick and sore, and her ears and face burned from the cold, but her lower back and thighs slowly loosened out of their cramps as the effort of the climb warmed her up.

  It took her a long while to realize that the strange weight at her back was her hair. It was braided and wrapped with some kind of leather cord, and Fern had to explain that he and Shadi had bound it for her that morning. Then they’d tucked it inside her thermal sweater so that it would help keep her warm — and keep it out of the way. Emma didn’t know how long it was, and didn’t care. By then there were more important things to worry about.

  Like following Keti into the mountain’s dark, echoing heart.

  31

  The pitch black passageway was hidden in a deep cleft of rock, its opening so low that Emma and Fatima were the only ones who could walk through without stooping, but it got bigger inside. Way bigger. Their footsteps echoed in the strange, muffled hush, and the dry air tasted nonetheless fresh. There was enough phosphorescence from various mosses and fungi for the shapechangers to see by, but Emma couldn’t see a damn thing, and had to be carried once more. Torches, Keti explained, would disturb the nocturnal denizens of the cave system they were about to enter.

  This time Red carried her. In his arms. If something happened in the cave passageway, in the dark, then he needed to know exactly where she was — and that was a hell of a lot easier with her hands linked around his thick neck. It was unnerving to feel both his arms locked solid around her. It also felt damn good — which was maybe part of why it was so unnerving. Emma kept those thoughts to herself as the paltry moonlight from the entrance to the passageway died, and Red carried her into the void, Fern keeping step beside them and the others ranging ahead and behind.

  The possibility of ambush in the tunnel had occurred to everyone; Emma didn’t need psychic ties to tell her that. They hadn’t gone far before Emma felt Ivan open the Call, the wash of power crawling across her skin like a thousand icy mouths hungry just for her. He closed it down when there was nothing for the magic to touch but her and the others. A few minutes later, Fatima was the one to open the Call. A few minutes after that it was Horne. And so on, each of them in turn, keeping watch with that sixth sense as well as the other five.

  After long enough in the dark with nothing but Red’s arms to orient her and Fern’s presence within the merge to let her know he was even still there, Emma felt like the intermittent pulse of shapechanger magic was all that kept her tethered to reality. With nothing to see, her eyes played tricks on her, making strange shapes out of the phantom lights that danced through her optic nerves. Eventually she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against Red’s shoulder. He was tense, on high alert and all out of witty banter for her. Fern was quiet too, exhausted from funneling energy into her throughout the day’s hike, and trying to stay alert now was tapping the last of his reserves.

  Emma wondered — and worried — how the others were doing. Ivan had carried her for hours; Shadi was human, for all he had advantages she still didn’t understand. Leah, Fatima and Horne seemed inexhaustible, but then on the surface, so did Red Sun and Fern. Emma knew that for herself at least, she badly needed food and water and rest — all of which she could access in the blink of an eye with Red’s power.

  If she was willing to give that secret up, which she wasn’t. They had no idea what they were walking into with the Brotherhood. It was a huge risk they were taking, and having a foolproof backup plan made that risk a hell of a lot easier to bear.

  But how much longer could they all go on like this? And what kind of hospitality could they really expect from the Brotherhood, whoever they were, in this rough and isolated place?

  Eventually, Emma dozed again without meaning to; dreams nipped at her with thin teeth, urgent voices whispering in the darkness behind her eyes. It was Fern’s spike of apprehension that roused her, a swift, bright pulse of readiness punching through the merge. She sat up in Red’s arms so fast he nearly dropped her.

  Easy, Red murmured in her mind. But he didn’t sound too easy himself. There was light up ahead, a slim golden lance of it like a beacon.

  We’re here, Emma said via the connection to both of them, mouth going dry. Red gave her leg a brief squeeze of reassurance, his hand solid and hot just above her knee. Fern touched her shoulder, sliding his hand down her arm, and twined his fingers in hers. She wanted to stand, to walk into the Brotherhood’s monastery — and whatever awaited her there — on her own two feet, but the passageway was still dark as pitch.

  Something troubled Fern — something other than what they were about to walk into. You were dreaming, he sent in response to the wordless press of her thoughts. It felt like there was — I don’t know. Like there was someone else in there with you .

  Cold claimed Emma’s guts. Like who? She gripped Fern’s hand tighter. Was it Alan? Is the merge failing? That can’t be possible, we’ve never let it slip once since —

  I don’t know. I don’t think so. Probably just dreams. He squeezed her hand back, then untangled his fingers and smoothed his hand over hers, thumb tracing a lazy path across her knuckles. But we can’t be sure. Just gotta stay watchful I guess.

  Emma nodded in the dark. She wanted to say more — she wanted to be sure. Wanted to send Fern digging in her mind, use the merge to make damn certain Alan couldn’t get into her head, but the light up ahead was growing.

  It was time to meet the Brotherhood.

  The source of the light lay beyond a huge, carved slab of stone that retracted into the passageway wall when Keti pulled a lever. Emma glimpsed just enough of the carving to know it was in the same style as the tattoos depicted in Kahotep’s fathers journals, the same designs Emma had seen on Arima in her vision.

  Would the Brotherhood know of Arima? Would they be able to shed some light on who she was, and how she’d died? Would they be able to explain how, thousands of years after her death, Arima had managed to save Emma’s life when the ritual went down with Alan? Saved her sanity at least. There was no way to thank her — not on this plane of existence, and without Telly, there was no way of finding that other plane, the other dimension that he called the river, where Arima had appeared to Emma. For some reason it felt important now.


  But they hadn’t come all this way to commune with the dead. They’d come for answers.

  And, Emma hoped in her secret heart, they’d come to find some way of using her power to defeat the serpent priesthood. To keep everyone she loved safe.

  She didn’t know what she’d expected, but as Red let her slide out of his arms and she followed Ivan into the blinding yellow light of the passageway beyond the stone door, the thing that hit her first was the warmth. Heat enveloped her like a glove, and it wasn’t until that moment that Emma realized just how bone deep cold she’d been for the better part of the last three days. When her eyes stopped stinging from the sudden assault of light, Emma saw they’d come out into a vast natural cave, and everywhere there was firelight and honeyed shadows, but for a breathless second all she could focus on was the fact that several yards to the right, the massive cavern was open on one side to empty air, and black velvet night beckoned beyond the vertiginous shelf of the cave floor.

  The yellow lights they’d seen dotted across the cliff face — not windows, but mouths. Cave mouths.

  Then there was movement, and out of the shadows thrown by torches and stalactites, three figures stepped into the light.

  All wore robes the same fawn brown as Keti’s, and two of them were a similar height, but there the likeness ended. Where Keti was silver haired and bronze skinned, the two tall males were golden-blond and pale, near identical, had facial scarring to rival Red Sun and Alexi combined, and judging by their milky white-blue eyes they had to be blind. They both wore close cropped beards and braids, and Emma’s first thought, unbidden, was of mythic warriors returned from the underworld, sightless and without souls. Yet their presence wasn’t what stopped Emma’s breath.

  The slight figure between the males was a maiden, like Felani. She had to be.

  The hair was silver instead of copper, and her skin was the color of moonlight instead of autumn sunshine. Her features were Mongolian, her eyes huge, wideset, and like Felani’s, burning with the molten fire of her beast. She was smaller than Emma’s maidens, barely four and a half feet; her height and her wide eyes lent the female an air of youth and innocence, but, as with all the maidens, something stark and alien looked out of her face and didn’t bother trying to appear more human. It wasn’t just the eyes — it was the ancient indifference in them. Even Emma’s maidens, who loved her, who could squeal like children over some new toy or fight like Valkyries to protect Emma with their lives, held the same terrifying indifference in their eyes.