by Sarra Cannon
“I’ve never, ah, discussed them before. With anyone.”
“How did you learn of them?”
“Read scrolls from the Old Ones.” She bit her lower lip, remembering. “Metae hung onto them the whole time I was reading and whisked them into her robes the second I finished.” Aislinn’s mouth burned. Human tongues weren’t designed to shape the names of evil. She licked her lips, but her saliva made them hurt.
I can finish this.
“Adva rules portals and knowledge. D’Chel is the god of illusion. Tokhots is a trickster and master rhymer. Slototh is filth and all that is discarded.”
Her mouth felt swollen. So did her tongue. For a moment, she thought her airway would close. She pulled a water bottle from her rucksack and drank deeply. It helped a little.
“It is better for me to know.” Rune’s voice seemed as if it came from a long way away.
Her head spun. It was impossible to focus her gaze, so she closed her eyes. She gulped air like a landed fish. Something warm and wet laved her face over and over. It took a ridiculously long time for her to realize the wolf was licking her. Even longer for her to hear the wordless song he sent into her mind.
Chapter 5
Part of her was surprised to wake up. Before darkness claimed her, she’d wondered if speaking those six names aloud, within the same few minutes, would be her undoing. The inside of her mouth ached. Exploration with her tongue and fingers found blisters extending outward in large pustules that nearly covered her lips.
Something sharp grazed her arm. She forced her eyes to focus and realized Rune had just bitten her—but gently. “Time for us to leave this place.”
“We just got here,” she protested. It was hard to make her sore mouth form words.
“The border worlds do not tolerate us for long.”
“How do you know that?” In spite of her discomfort, she was curious.
“Marta was a messenger.”
So they must have done a lot of world-jumping… “That’s why you know where Taltos is.”
He just looked at her. Sorrow rimmed his eyes. Aislinn guessed it hadn’t been all that long since Marta’s death. Being a messenger was exceedingly dangerous. It was the way information flowed to those fighting the dark. The Old Ones had their own ways of communicating with one another. If they were close enough, they used telepathy with humans, too. At least those with Mage and Seer abilities. For humans who were too far away—or who lacked those particular skills—the Old Ones used alabaster plaques and runners to deliver them. Messengers were nearly always in the thick of things. Travis doubled as a messenger. She was pretty sure Hunting was his main function, but those weren’t the kinds of things people talked about. Survival depended on secrecy. It was better if no one knew your talents. Travis had used telepathy to tell her he wanted to see her again. So he must have Mage or Seer skills, too, at least to some extent. If her supposition was true, he’d taken quite a risk reaching out to her.
There’s a whole lot I don’t know about human gifts. Maybe Travis is using something entirely different. Something I’ve never even considered. She made a mental note to ask Rune more about Marta and which skills she’d had.
A deep rumble beneath her drove Aislinn to her feet. The world seemed to be trying to expel them. Furling her eyebrows at Rune, she asked, “So do they send little green men with a hook out next?”
“I am not sure I understand—”
“Never mind. It was a joke. And not a very good one.” She walked over to him. “I need the next place.”
“How strong are you?”
Turning her Mage sense inward, Aislinn took stock. “Medium,” she said after a pause. “I think we could go a ways.” At least, I hope we can.
“Your mouth.”
“Yeah, it hurts, but it probably looks worse than it feels. I’ll work on Healing it later.”
Another pine forest filled her mind. This one bordered a large lake. Holding the vision close, she buried a hand in Rune’s neck and called up a spell. Winds—so strong they ripped the breath from her lungs—buffeted her as soon as she and Rune left the border world. Grit blew in her face. The blisters on her lips ruptured, and fluid dripped down her chin. What the hell? Wary and confused, Aislinn wondered if it was always this hard to leave the borderlands. She tightened her hold on the wolf, determined to ride it out. What choice did she have? Once committed to a destination, it was suicide to switch locations mid-jump.
Struggling to infuse enough magic to keep her spell going got progressively harder. It’s like trying to drive into a headwind. Takes more fuel. A harsh laugh escaped her. That world, the one with cars and gasoline, was gone. She still thought about it, because she’d understood it—and because she missed its relative predictability. In that world, soldiers got furloughed—R&R they’d called it. In this one, you fought until you died. The Lemurians had never heard of battle fatigue.
The wind left as quickly as it had come. She drifted in a familiar black void, trying to get her breath, the thud of her heart loud against her ears. She ran an experimental tongue over her lips. They actually felt better now that the blisters had broken open. Like he’d done the other day, Rune inserted part of himself inside her. It boosted her flagging energy and reminded her of the fine edge between survival and failure. When the wolf had first shown up, she’d been afraid he’d slow her down. Now it seemed he might make the difference between her actually finding the gateway. Or not.
They clunked out of the void. She didn’t have enough power for an elegant transition. One minute, they were weightless. The next, Rune shoved her behind him, hackles on full alert as he scanned the seemingly deserted forest. In spite of being tired and scared, she heard her stomach growl. It didn’t care about anything beyond its empty state.
Knowing they had to hunt, Aislinn tried to summon enough magic to see if they’d come out somewhere safe. Rune sank into an alert sit, and she knew she could save herself for something more important. Like finding game. Or greens. The wolf would never sit if he’d sensed danger.
She looked around them. A lake glistened through pine boughs in rays from a setting sun. Judging by how she felt, today ought to be long since over. Or maybe it was already tomorrow. She’d heard that time flowed differently in the borderlands. If I got really lucky, it’s still yesterday. She took off at as brisk a pace as she could manage toward the water.
Catching her up quickly, Rune nipped at her calf. “Where are you going?”
“To see if anything edible’s growing in the shallow part of the lake.” She happened to be looking at him, so she saw something like a grimace cross his furred features and grinned. “Not meat, but I like it.”
— —
Against Rune’s protests, she made a small, sheltered fire between two large boulders and Healed her mouth while she waited for her meal to cook. The hunt had been good. She’d found both watercress and wild onions in abundance. The wolf contributed three fat rabbits. She made a stew of sorts in the battered cook pot she always carried. Rune ate his share of the meat raw. Belly really full for the first time since before she’d lain in wait for Travis, she carted water from the lake to douse the coals.
Rune eyed the rising smoke. Every aspect of his body, from his tautly held tail to the set of his shoulders, told her he thought her fire posed a huge risk.
“Stand down, silly.” She made an expansive gesture with both hands, sure she’d sleep well since she’d had such a sumptuous meal.
He threw an injured look her way. “I will take first watch.”
Too tired to argue, she pulled all her clothes on to ward against the chill of the night, laid her head on her pack, and closed her eyes. Sleep came, but it was almost worse than none. Aislinn stood outside herself, suspended above her body, which tossed and turned on the hard ground. Metae morphed into being, shrieking just like she had when Aislinn was about to throw her magic down the vortex. Except this time, the Lemurian dunned her for being late.
“I told y
ou four days.”
“I still have two,” Aislinn protested.
“Not by my count.”
Guess I wasn’t so lucky in that border world.
Chastised, Aislinn understood she was awake and in astral form. Somewhat stiffly, she bowed her head. “What would you have me do?”
“How came you by Marta’s wolf?” As she often did, Metae switched topics.
“He picked me.” Aislinn glanced at Rune. He sat still as a carved statue, staring straight ahead, frozen in time. Apparently, Metae didn’t want him to overhear their conversation.
The mage eyed her, scrutinized her soul and memories through a tightly woven web. The inside of her head burned. Tears leaked from her eyes. When she brushed them away and looked at her fingertips, they were red.
Christ. She made my eyes bleed.
“Sorry. I forgot how fragile you humans are.” Metae didn’t sound the least bit sorry. “A Hunter picked you, and you Healed him when he was hurt?”
“Why ask? You already know those things.” Aislinn heard a peevish undercurrent in her tone, but her temper was on the uptick, and she didn’t bother to modulate her anger. “I’m not asleep. May I rejoin my body?”
Disorientation blurred her vision as astral and physical bodies collided. She’d never cared for the sensation. It made her nauseous. Taking little, panting breaths to make sure her dinner stayed in her stomach where it belonged, she raised her gaze to Metae. The mage was in a female phase. The Old Ones were hermaphroditic, sometimes appearing as one sex, sometimes the other. Aislinn tried to ask one time about how they managed to have children. All her blushing and stammering bought her was a bunch of doublespeak.
The Lemurian was over seven feet tall. Male or female, that part never changed. Blond hair shrouded her. It was so long and thick that the white robes beneath were all but obscured. Gold jewelry shone like a queen’s ransom. A thick torc sat round her neck. Another circled her brow. Rings set with enormous gemstones sparked from nearly every finger. An iridescence to her skin made it hard to look directly at her. Her eyes were the worst, though. Deep, dark pools, they swirled hypnotically. Aislinn learned early on to avoid gazing at any Old One’s eyes. Once ensnared, she couldn’t turn away until they released her. The first time it happened, the Old One—not Metae—had laughed at her, but didn’t let her go, for an endless time. The lesson sank in, and she hadn’t made that mistake again.
“Thank you.” Aislinn bowed slightly, feeling rigid and awkward like she always did around the Old Ones. “I’m sorry I’m late. What would you have me do?”
The Lemurian moved around her in a circle. Aislinn became stillness itself, waiting. They remained like that, Metae moving and Aislinn immobile, until dawn lightened the eastern horizon. Sometimes, Metae moved so quickly Aislinn could only feel her, and sometimes so slowly the only hint she moved at all was her position shifted subtly as time flowed past.
“I think,” Metae said after Aislinn had given up on the Old One telling her anything, “I shall leave you in your world—”
An odd mixture of disappointment and relief swept through her. She’d wanted to see the mysterious Taltos, but was apprehensive about what she’d find. Her humanity felt like it was shrinking. One of the fears she’d kept to herself was that the Old Ones would complete the transformation, and she’d become something alien. Like them.
Laughter like pealing bells filled the dawn. “Oh, you are far from off the hook, child. You are developing into something…interesting. Amazingly, with little intervention from us. I find that fascinating. I am simply giving you more time on your own to, shall we say, discover your talents. Then we shall welcome you to Taltos.”
So I can entertain all of you? I don’t think so. She clamped down on her thoughts. The Old Ones could read them easily if they were paying attention. Though Metae narrowed her eyes, she didn’t say anything.
If Aislinn hadn’t been so shocked by the turn of events, she’d have been ready. She knew how Lemurians came and went: in a puff of light so bright, it blinded you, leaving spots dancing in front of your eyes for hours. The blast rocked her. She slammed her lids down, but was a fraction of a second too late. Light seared her corneas, burning into her brain.
Rune yelped. She remembered he’d been frozen in place, his eyes wide open. Finding him by feel, she pulled him to her. “It’s all right. She’s gone.” Laying hands over the wolf’s eyes, she sent her magic—fairly fully recovered to her relief—edging forward. When she found healthy tissue instead of sizzled cells, she blew out a breath and smoothed his fur back along the sides of his muzzle. “Your eyes will be fine, Rune.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” he demanded.
“One of the Old Ones was here.”
“Why couldn’t I sense her?” Rune wriggled out of her grasp, blinking furiously.
“She immobilized you.”
The wolf growled. “I will have a word with her when we get to Taltos. Or him, if she’s shifted.”
Aislinn cocked her head to one side. “That’s just it,” she muttered. “Now we aren’t going.”
Rune squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. “I’m going to the lake to douse my head. My eyes are burning. When I come back, you need to tell me everything.”
The sun was well up in the sky by the time they’d finished another meal. While they ate, Rune peppered her with questions as she relayed Metae’s visit, asking for clarification on several points. He growled, rose to his feet, and shook himself from ears to tail, before head-butting her with his snout. “Because you have become an interesting specimen for them to watch, they are not going to give you any assistance. At least not now.”
“That’s about the size of it.” Aislinn sucked the last shreds of rabbit flesh off a bone, following it with a thick wad of watercress. Her fire had bothered the wolf so much the night before that she’d opted for raw this morning.
“We treat pack puppies with more respect.”
Aislinn shot him a look. “I’m scarcely a puppy.”
“In terms of your knowledge of magic, that is exactly what you are.”
Ouch. “Touché.”
“And that means?”
“Even though it pains me, I agree with you.”
Rune whuffed low in the back of his throat. She could have sworn he was laughing.
“So, human, where do we go next?”
She stuffed a wild onion into her mouth, delighting in the bitter sweetness of it as she chewed. Waving the stalk in his direction, she said, “I’ve been thinking about that.”
He waited, watching her closely.
“I believe we should go home. To my home, that is,” she clarified.
“Why?”
Good question. “Because all my things—well, the few I have—are there.”
“Would you like to see where Marta and I lived?”
A sudden flash of insight slammed her between the eyes. Rune wanted things from what had been his home. “I’d love to.” Her reward was a quick flip of his tail as he bounded to her side, his eyes bright and filled with what looked like anticipation. She met his golden gaze full on. “We can get whatever you want while we’re there.”
“Maybe you’ll want—” Head rearing up, his voice broke off.
Senses on red alert, she leapt to her feet. It took a few seconds before she heard it, but wing beats filled the still morning air. “Just birds,” she sent, reverting to mind speech.
“No. Ready yourself. We need to fight.”
Trusting Rune’s instincts, she melted into the shadows of a tree that would shield her from something airborne. The wolf didn’t bother. He didn’t have to. His natural form was an effective disguise. For a ridiculous moment, she wondered if she could learn to shapeshift along with Healing and Hunting, and then she laughed silently to herself. Taking different forms was a Lemurian skill. No human had mastered it. At least, she didn’t think any had.
She trained her senses on the skies, eyes narrowed in concentration. As su
rreptitiously as possible, she pulled power from the Earth, keeping her magic out of the air. The wing beats got louder. Clearly, whatever was coming wasn’t interested in stealth—which meant they hadn’t zeroed in on her. Or else they were so strong, they didn’t fear anything. Not a comfortable thought.
Aislinn caught sight of a leathery wingtip and cringed. Bats, but probably not normal ones. It was rare to find animals nowadays that hadn’t been turned by one side or the other. Hunters used bond animals like Rune to expand their ability to seek out and destroy the enemy. If Rune thought the bats were a threat, they probably were.
“Draw one breath and fire,” the wolf said.
“What will—?”
“I will help you when they get close enough to pull out of the skies.”
The minute she loosed her magic, the bats would be on them. So far, they hadn’t been discovered. If she stilled her power, and Rune acted more like a forest wolf and less like a bond animal, the bats might pass on by. They had to be headed for their cave. Nocturnal creatures, the daylight must be uncomfortable for them.
“We may not have to fight. Pretend you are hunting. I will mute myself.”
He didn’t answer, but she knew he’d heard. He sauntered away from her, sprang, and pulled a mouse from scrub grass and pine needles. The next rodent he pounced on looked larger, more like a marmot. Rune dragged it into the shadow of a boulder and proceeded to rip its guts open.
Aislinn became one with the tree next to her, borrowing its energy to cover hers. Barely breathing, she willed the winged mammals on their way. They filled the skies above her now. Their sharp, high-pitched squeals loud in her ears. They sounded angry about something. The bulk of them flew on. She was close to congratulating herself on calling this one right, when half a dozen wheeled back, heading right for Rune.
What the fuck? Bats don’t attack things fifty times larger than themselves.
“Rune. Swim to the middle of the lake. Stay there.”
The wolf exploded from his place. Long before the bats reached where he’d been, she heard a splash and knew he was following her directions. She’d been afraid he’d argue. Chittering like little mad things, the bats picked up the remains of the marmot and suspended it between four of them. Burdened by the dead animal, they flew low, but at least they left. She waited before she risked sending magic skyward to make certain they were gone.
