“I’ll try to prepare you, as best I can, for what you may encounter when you step out of your world. And I’ll be open to questions.
“Grieve will post the actual schedule which is more detailed and more time-specific. I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but attendance is not optional.
“As the week goes on, you’re going to learn how to travel the passes.” She saw the hunters exchange looks. “That’s right. It’s an adventure like no other. A real A ticket ride. Like most adventures it will come with some thrills. And like most adventures, it comes with risks. How dangerous will it be?
“Honestly, I can’t say. Dr. Monq and his team are working hard to make sure you have every advantage we can give you, and they’ll be continuing to tweak and refine as we go. We can mitigate the dangers. But we can’t eliminate the dangers.”
“Great Paddy. I’m in. Where do I sign up?” Ram said loudly from the other end of the room. Finn caught Helm looking away with a surly teenage smirk. He supposed daddy issues came with all kinds of packages. Finngarick’s dad was a ne’er-do-well drunk that brought shame on himself and his son. Helm’s dad was a larger-than-life legendary figure casting a shadow that might seem insurmountably overpowering to an adolescent son. Even an adolescent son who’d be king, not just in name, but in fact someday. If he wanted it.
Elora said, “Ignore that. The most dangerous thing he’s doing from now on is breaking up fights between the twins.”
There was laughter around the table, but it wasn’t raucous. It was reserved. No doubt they were all considering that they were embarking on an adventure that would show them wondrous things, but could also result in an untimely youthful demise.
Rosie continued. “We’re going to be pioneers. Part of what that means is that we’re going to be figuring this out as we go along. There’s so much we can’t know or account for until after we’re up past our waders. We don’t even know enough to identify what the problems will be. I do know that it takes a special kind of personality to rush headlong into the unknown.
“Being here tonight means you’ve already heard this, considered it, and made your decision. We’re founding a new Black Swan division. Looking around, I feel proud to be in your company. At the end of the week, if you’re as ready as I believe you’ll be, we’ll begin assigning missions. When you’re not away, you’ll live here.
“So this is not only an orientation. It’s a dedication. We own this place. It’s ours and we’ve renamed it Hunter’s Abbey. When you’re not on leave, this is home.”
She raised her wine glass. “A toast to the first hunters of D.I.T.” Everybody stood and raised their glasses. “My father taught me something we must all keep in mind. It happens to be the underlying reason for the existence of D.I.T.” She paused. Then smiled. “There’s no place like home.”
All clinked glasses and repeated, “There’s no place like home,” before drinking.
After dinner Sheridan introduced her sister, whom Torn thought was incredibly plain and uninteresting compared to his mate. Shivaun introduced them to her new partner, Sir Declan Tikkenen.
At ten o’clock Grieve made the rounds of the ground floor rooms looking at his pocket watch and mentioning the time. People laughed, but excused themselves to retire nonetheless.
At length Torn had drifted to sleep in his bed by the window even though the beams of the full moon had shown on him like a spotlight. He woke feeling agitated. His elf ears were picking up the rustle of Sheridan’s tossing, turning, and sighing. Finally he sat up.
“What’s wrong?” he said.
She turned in bed, looked across the room then also sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
He thought she wasn’t going to answer, but eventually she said, “I’ve ne’er been alone before.”
“You’re no’ alone, Sher. I’m right here.” As soon as he’d said it, he realized what she meant. “Have you ne’er been apart from Shivaun?”
She said nothing, but his eyes were well enough adjusted to the dim light to tell that she shook her head. He grabbed the blanket folded at the foot of his bed as he stood up. He crossed the room wearing nothing but drawstring pajama bottoms, sat down on the side of Sheridan’s bed and put the blanket around her shoulders. His thigh was warm where it touched hers and, normally, that would have meant maneuvering her into a sexual situation. But oddly, he found that his principal interest was in giving comfort.
“Tell me what ‘twas like growin’ up in Black on Tarry.”
He waited patiently, content to sit quietly and breathe in her scent, which made his nostrils tingle like nearness to jasmine in full bloom.
“Well,” she said, “until a short while ago, I did no’ think it was remarkable. So far as I knew, ‘twas how the world was everywhere. Now I know ‘tis so very different.”
He listened as she talked about the villagers, their way of life, the animals and wild beauty of the New Forest and also about the constant companionship of her sister.
When she grew quiet, he said, “Why did you come on with D.I.T.?”
She sighed. “Shivaun and I. We always thought we had a destiny.” She laughed in a self-deprecating way. “I know it sounds silly. We thought we were goin’ to be great warriors. Like in storybooks. Heroes.”
“’Tis no’ so silly now,” Finngarick said. “’Tis e’en likely.”
“You think so?”
“Aye.”
“We made a vow to each other that we would no’ mate. We’d stay true to our, um, fate.”
Though not what he wanted to hear, that certainly cleared up the mystery of her reluctance to accept the pairing. Finngarick wasn’t entirely sure that it was even possible to refuse a mating. Sooner or later desire would overcome even the most obstinate elf.
“Sher,” he began softly, “a child’s promise is no’ a vow. Only a person of accountable age can make an oath that is bindin’.”
“O’ course that’s what you’d think. And maybe ‘twould be true if I was no’ a twin. But what my sister and I promise each other, at any age… ‘tis sacred.”
“I will no’ press you to change your mind tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the next day. But children have no understandin’ of the call of matin’. ‘Tis an instinct that dwarfs all others eventually. Or so I’ve heard. There may come a time when it can no’ be denied.” She didn’t respond, but he could tell she was turning that over in her mind. “Do ye think ye can sleep now?”
“Aye. Thank you for… well…”
“O’ course. That’s what partners are for.”
He felt more than saw her smile at that.
When he’d climbed back in his own bed, turned toward the windows, and closed his eyes, he heard her say, “Torn?”
“Aye?” He turned slightly so that he could look over his shoulder.
“I do find you handsome enough.”
He’d been told hundreds of times by the most beautiful women in the world that he was a walking fantasy. But all those compliments together didn’t mean nearly as much as the simple unadorned statement from his mate.
“Thank you, Sher. I find you desirable beyond compare and can no’ believe my good fortune that fate has seen fit to choose you for me.”
Though she said nothing else, he knew she was repeating his words in her mind. And that was good enough. For now.
Rosie gave everybody half an hour for breakfast before Grieve directed the hunters to convene in a room that had been set up for lecture purposes and was just big enough to hold Rosie, hunters, and the instructors.
Monq had spent the night in one of the two rooms that had been set aside for guests and would be heading back to Jefferson Unit right after his demonstration. He’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t like travel and that this was a one-time concession.
“This was a multifaceted project,” Monq began, “with new and diverse issues. Our first obstacle was figuring out how to artificially enable Loti Dimension natives to travel the passes. We began with s
amples of elemental blood and were able to develop a long-lasting synthetic that works just as well, with no side effects that we know of to date.”
“One shot of this,” he held up a syringe with clear liquid inside, “will do for a year. We think. There might be slight variables from one person to the next, but that’s a rule of thumb.”
Finngarick watched as some of the hunters exchanged looks. One of them raised a hand and Monq acknowledged him.
“When you say there’s possible individual variance, are you saying that we could be away when we find out we needed a shot a day, or an hour, sooner?”
“We’re not taking that kind of chance with our assets. No. After eleven months or so, we’ll test you for levels of the serum before you set foot outside Loti,” Monq said. “The serum not only enables you to survive in the passes, but in other dimensions as well. If you should happen into a dimension where there’s another person with your life signature, basically an identical copy of yourself biologically designed to live in that world, you won’t be snuffed out. Anybody else have a question?”
When there were no other questions, he went on. “Our biggest problem is trying to outfit you to mimic the abilities and characteristics of elementals. They can travel the passes. When they do, they know where they are, where they’re going, and how to get back. You don’t have that sort of built in sense of direction. We’re compensating for that by issuing each one of you a bot that will act like a compass.” He held up a leather-like cord that formed a necklace for a pendant-style bot. “So long as you’re in possession of your compass, you’ll always be able to find your way home.” He smiled. “As the saying goes, you may indeed learn firsthand that there’s no place like home.
“Now that we’ve talked about the ways that will enable you to move around, we need to address defense. Obviously none of you would stand a chance against an elemental in a fair fight. So we have had to find ways to give you an artificial advantage.”
Monq paused as Rosie, who’d been standing off to the side, came to stand in front of the group. “Our mission is not to annihilate elementals. It’s to identify those who are threatening to Loti and exile them. In the interest of that primary goal, our go-to position is diplomacy. We may often be able to reach an understanding with transients, but not if we can’t get them to stop long enough to talk. We’re proceeding on the assumption that most will not be interested in taking time out for a chat with you. So how do we accomplish that?”
Rosie stepped off to the side and gave the floor to Monq again.
He picked up something resembling a pistol. “This looks like a gun, but it isn’t. We used the design simply because it fits the hand, has a trigger, and suits the purpose, which is to cast a net that will temporarily immobilize, but not harm in any way. With considerable trouble,” he looked pointedly at Rosie, “we matched the frequency to brain waves and fine-tuned so that motor activity is disabled, but not speech. When you aim and pull the trigger,” Monq turned his back to give an exhibition, “the subject will be covered with blue light in a grid pattern that resembles a net.” A blue light grid shone on the wall. “When you wish to release, just pull back on the hammer.” He did and the light fell away.
Rosie again came to stand in front of Monq’s table of tools.
“I know you’re all wondering what we’re going to say to our light captive when we have him or her paralyzed. We’re going to say, ‘Here are your choices. You can agree to stay away from Loti Dimension. Or you can accept a tag that will identify you and your whereabouts when you’re in Loti. The tags are permanent and can’t be removed. Which will it be?
“Yes. There are elementals who will believe they can get around the new rules. That might work in the short run, but frontier days are over. We’re going to begin cataloguing the visitors. There’s also going to be a tracking center at Edinburgh that will let us know, at any given minute, where non-humans are.
“If someone has promised to stay away and doesn’t, then they’ll be issued a tag whether they want it or not.” Finngarick happened to look over his shoulder and see Ram give Elora a look with raised eyebrows. “I know the question is hanging in the air. How are you ‘issuing’ a tag?
“Combustibles can’t be used in the passes. At all. It creates a fire in the hole effect beyond what you might imagine, endangering entire worlds and species. So we have to accomplish our goals quietly, with workarounds. Our workarounds are named O’Malley.”
Everybody turned and looked at the twins, who seemed more surprised than anyone to be named.
Rosie held up an arrow. “These arrows have been outfitted with a microscopic tag. Don’t worry. You can’t hurt an elemental with an arrow. Most would just laugh, pull it out, and fling it back in your direction. But the tag will implant itself and refuse to be extracted or dislodged without serious damage.
“Depending on the situation, the O’Malleys may be deployed separately with partners or as a team of four with their partners.” Finngarick looked over at Sheridan, who was sitting next to him, and smiled. “In extreme cases, and we expect this to be rare, executions may be inevitable. Dr. Monq has developed a poison that will cause demon tissue to wither and disappear within seconds. He’s named it quicksilver.
“It’s harmless to you, but deadly to demons. These daggers,” Rosie held up a dagger, “have been coated in quicksilver. You vampire hunters will notice that they’ve been designed to be the same size and weight as stakes.” A murmur went through the room. “Again, this is last resort.
“First and foremost we’re a peacekeeping outfit. We’re diplomats first. We plan to keep tabs on tourists and make sure they’re not causing trouble. These tools are not a license to kill. Is that clear?” Again there was a murmur. “Questions?”
There were none.
“Okay. Your instructors are going to spend the next few days getting you into top physical condition. Since your bodies weren’t designed for traveling in the passes, you need to be at your best to withstand the stress.
“By the end of the week, we’re going to start putting toes in the water. I’ll take one team at a time for a short stroll and we’ll start working up to more.” She looked around the room. “Let’s get outside and do some strength and endurance assessments.”
Conversation broke out immediately as people stood to go. Torn was wearing dark sweatpants and a charcoal gray tee that read, I’m late because I didn’t want to come, in white letters. “What do you think?” he asked Sheridan.
“I, em, had no’ expected to be named. Or to have a special job.”
Torn smiled wide. “I’m honored to have a partner who’s a specialist.”
“Why do ye think they put us together?”
He shrugged. “Fate.” His eyes made their way down her body as he smiled. She was wearing fashionable workout clothes that Lacey had helped her pick out. A persimmon color racerback tank with matching hoodie that did marvelous things for her coloring, and charcoal leggings with persimmon seam accents. Her muscle tone was near perfection, but the muscle was covered with a layer of soft and feminine-looking curves that made Torn’s mouth water.
“Hmmm.”
There was a flat grassy area behind the abbey, a little less than two acres, that had been converted to track and field. There were various equipment stations inside and outside the track and a sparring ‘ring’.
Elora walked up to Torn and Sheridan. “Go play with the boys for a while, Finngarick,” she said. “I’m going to work with the O’Malleys.”
Torn gave Sheridan a look that said, “I don’t want to go and will you be okay without me?”
Somehow she understood the unspoken feelings. It was a new experience, the mate connection beginning to take hold, and she was realizing that it was going to be harder to hold at arm’s length than she expected. Perhaps Finngarick was right. How could they have understood about mate callings as children?
She nodded to reassure him and said, “I’ll be right here.”
When he was gone, Elora said, “You two seem to have gotten close quickly.”
When Sheridan’s coloring went instantly red, Elora’s mouth formed a silent, “Oh.” She took in a breath. “What are the odds?” Then she laughed out loud. “Well, maybe they’re better than you think. Two out of the first three women hunters have been partnered with mates. How about that?” She shook her head. “Let’s go fetch your sister.”
Sheridan stopped Elora by putting her hand on Elora’s forearm. “Do no’ say anythin’ to her.”
Elora looked confused. “About what?”
“About,” she looked in Finngarick’s direction, “Finngarick.”
Elora’s eyes drifted toward Torn then back to Sheridan. “Why not?”
“’Tis… ‘em… complicated.”
Elora crossed her arms over her chest. “Look. Figuring out how to protect Loti from a criminal element of elementals is complicated enough without personal stuff. What’s going on?”
“My sister… We took a vow when we were little that we would no’ mate.”
Elora stared for a few beats before laughing. “Sheridan. I won’t say anything about this right now. But you’re going to have to tell her. Trust me, this isn’t something you can keep secret.”
Sheridan took in a deep breath. “I know.” She said it so quietly it was almost a whisper. “She’s no’ goin’ to like it.”
“She doesn’t have to. It’s your life.”
The idea of being totally separate, an individual, was as new to Sheridan as was the world outside Black on Tarry. Add to that the growing desire to reach out and run her finger over the outer edge of Torn’s ear. Or move her chair a little closer to his in the classroom. Or cross their shared room and snuggle into his back as he slept, breathing in his beguiling scent of musk and early morning. It was all enough to keep her feeling entirely off balance.
Elora and Sheridan walked over to Shivaun together. Shivaun was wearing the same outfit, but with gold accents. Elora appreciated being able to tell them apart with clothing signals if nothing else.
Finngarick (Order of the Black Swan, D.I.T. Book 2) Page 16
