Darkness stiffened, but held his position, waiting for the killing blow.
Then Gregory raised a hand and patted the other gargoyle on the shoulder, surprising her father, and everyone watching, into a group flinch. “It is not for me to judge you. Though I can only imagine what choices you had to make to protect those you love. Ultimately, I owe you and your dryad mate for siring my beloved.”
Her father sighed softly. “There are a number of mistakes I am not proud to own up to, but Lillian and Shadowlight will never belong on that long list.”
“We all make mistakes,” Gregory agreed. “I have committed more than my share in this lifetime already, and no doubt will make many more.” His tone darkened, “But should you attempt to betray my trust, know that I will set both you and your mate before the Lord of the Underworld’s throne. As a personal favour to me, he will grind your bones under his hooves until they are dust.”
The pooka trotted up to Gregory and rubbed is head against the gargoyle’s shoulder in what could only be called a loving manner. Gregory met Lillian’s gaze while absently returning the pooka’s show of affection with a good scratch along his neck, just under the fall of his mane.
A soft whine pulled Gregory’s gaze away from hers as he tracked the sound. Lillian wasn’t the only one disturbed by her love’s fierce ultimatum. Shadowlight paced closer to Gregory on all fours, and whined a second time, his tone a clear plead.
Gregory’s expression softened, and he reached down and ran his fingers through the smaller gargoyle’s mane. “Be at ease, young one. Your parents will not betray me of their own free will. But it had to be said as a promise and a deterrent to anyone here who would betray me.”
Shadowlight’s ears perked back up, and he licked at the older gargoyle’s fingers, happy and reassured once more.
While she was glad Gregory wasn’t going to indiscriminately execute members of her family just yet, recent events had insured that she wasn’t quite as young or trusting as she’d been six months ago, so she wondered what his next move might be. However, the night was chilled and so was she now that she was merely a dryad again. Deciding that was excuse enough, she covered the six feet separating them and bumped her shoulder against Gregory’s until he took her under the shelter of one wing.
It had been a hell of a night and it still wasn’t over. They needed to find Gran and then deal with Tethys.
Gregory held her close and pressed her cheek against his chest. His heart thrummed out its deep, familiar rhythm. She listened to the sound and let her eyes drift close.
Bliss.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“There are still other Riven headed toward Tethys’s location,” said a voice Lillian identified as her father’s.
And just like that Lillian was tossed back into the here and now. She straightened to stand taller as she faced her father. “Tell us all you know about the Riven. We know they came from the Magic Realm, likely at the fringes of the Battle Goddess’s domain. My understanding was that only a few were able to follow Gregory’s trail here after he rescued me from the Lady of Battles. Those ones I killed, or thought I’d killed, when they tried to sacrifice me for my magic three months ago. Yet now it seems like their numbers are greater than ever before.”
“Yes, you are correct on all counts,” River said. “But we must explain on the way or risk having the Riven score a victory.”
With a rumble of ascent from Gregory, and a nod in the general direction of the waiting Fae, the Wild Hunt shifted back into its deadly predatory readiness.
Gregory glanced at her smaller form but didn’t say anything about what possible reason the magic might have had for stripping away her gargoyle form.
But Lillian could guess. There were no female gargoyles for reasons not fully known to her. As such, she was somehow in violation of the natural laws, and apparently the Divine Ones didn’t care for the new look.
While Lillian woolgathered, the rest of the Wild Hunt had moved off a little ways, leaving only her parents and little brother in their immediate area. As she watched, her brother vanished into the shadows, his trajectory taking him toward the head of the hunt.
Her gaze returning to her mother, she found the other dryad already mounted on Darkness’s back. She sat on him like it came naturally to her. Well, she probably had lots of experience.
Her parents did another of their silent exchanges, which she couldn’t fault them for since Gregory utilized that gargoyle trait frequently, but it did leave her wondering what they discussed. Apparently, she wouldn’t have to wait long for an answer since Darkness approached her location less than a minute later.
When he was a stride distant, River reached out and handed Lillian a long knife, hilt first. Lillian took it after a slight hesitation. On a closer examination, she decided ‘short sword’ was a more adept description for the lethal looking blade. She looked up from her study of the blade to find her mother holding out a second blade, a twin to the one already in her hand. From out of the air, River produced an accompanying shoulder harness with scabbards for the two short swords.
Lillian’s eyebrow rose at the show of magic. If she wasn’t mistaken, River had been drawing on a handy bit of Darkness’s gargoyle magic. Later, she would question that relationship in more detail. By the slight tremor in the tip of Gregory’s one ear, he planned to do the same thing.
With a bit of instruction from her mother, Lillian was able to wiggle into the harness and secure the blades so they would come free easily, but wouldn’t bump against her back when Gregory ran. Throughout the whole exchange, Gregory merely looked on with what Lillian couldn’t mistake for anything other than approval.
Her sword skills were limited to fencing, and these were slashing weapons, their weight and balance nothing alike, yet it still felt good to have the weapons, rather like she had a purpose. Which brought her to her next challenge as she eyed Gregory’s back in dismay. He’d conveniently dropped to all fours and arched his one wing out of her way so she could mount with ease.
She only hesitated a moment before she mounted in silence, but inwardly she mourned the loss of her gargoyle body. After all, she felt so much more secure when it was her own feet doing all the work.
Alas, the day hadn’t gone her way so far and wasn’t likely to start now.
Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around Gregory’s neck and prayed she didn’t fall off. He leaped forward, her father and brother taking up flanking positions, and then Gregory was out in front of the Hunt, leading them back toward civilization, the siren, and most probably a whole host of Riven rabid for blood and magic.
A tendril of familiar power brushed her mind a moment before Gregory’s essence joined their thoughts. “It’s good to have you on my back again. Do not misinterpret my words, you made a lovely gargoyle, but I missed my dryad.” His tone held hints of his old self, which she hadn’t heard since before he’d been taken by the siren.
“It’s good to have you back, too. I’ll figure a way to get us out of this mess.”
He twisted enough to brush a quick gargoyle kiss against her shoulder. With her arms around his neck, it was the only part of her he could reach. “We’ll work together to solve this. I think that is where we have failed. We each keep trying to do things apart, to protect the other, but that is what allows harm to find us.” Gregory paused and then glanced back to where the rest of the Hunt ran at their heels. “The Lady of Battles may have made a mistake with the collars, for in tying us even closer together neither of us will be able to get into trouble without the other knowing.”
Lillian laughed. “That’s one way of putting a positive spin on winning the shitstorm sweepstakes.” She pressed a kiss to the back of his one shoulder, then straightened up enough so she could twist her upper body and look behind. She met her mother’s gaze.
River gave a slight nod and then whispered something in Darkness’s ear. In reply, he lengthened his stride and came along side Gregory.
Lillian ti
lted her head in River’s direction. “You said you would tell me more about where the Riven are coming from, and why they’re headed back toward the spa if they’re not interested in Tethys.”
Her mother pressed her lips together in a thoughtful line. “In fact, they probably are after the siren as well, though that won’t be their primary goal. They want your hamadryad.”
That made horrible sense. “Because she’s now the Sorceress and they want that power?”
“No, actually,” her mother countered and then clarified a moment later. “They want to use the bridge your hamadryads can form between Mortal and Magic Realms.”
Lillian felt Gregory stiffen under her. So she wasn’t the only one surprised by that bit of news. She prompted, “Hamadryads. Plural?”
“Naturally.” Her mother quirked an eyebrow. “You know there are two, surely? The one in this Realm, and the original in the Magic Realm—the one you took the cutting from in the first place.”
In fact Lillian did remember Gran mentioning something about a cutting. Cuttings only came from other plants, and Gregory had mentioned about a first hamadryad. But she hadn’t put anymore thought into it—mostly for lack of time.
“It lives?”
“Your tree is very strong and is in fact flourishing. She’s almost twice as large as the one growing here. Though that shouldn’t surprise you either since she’s had an extra eight years to grow and absorb power from the Magic Realm.”
“Hmm, I really don’t like the idea of a part of me still trapped there,” Lillian mumbled more to herself than any particular person. “What’s to stop the Lady of Battles from somehow using the hamadryad against me?”
Gregory rumbled at her question, clearly not liking the thought any better than she did, though he’d probably thought of that angle long before her.
“Hamadryads, being a hybrid of tree and Faeblood, are not something our enemy can influence. As a tree spirit, a hamadryad lacks thoughts or emotions that the Battle Goddess can grasp, understand, or corrupt.”
That might be true, but it didn’t mean she liked the idea any better.
“However, there is a way to exploit both your hamadryads, and I think the Riven plan to try.” Her mother frowned darkly. “They may have already done so once. It would explain why there are so many of them already in this Realm.”
The terrain forced Gregory and her father to veer around the opposite sides of an ancient oak, following two different game trails. To Lillian’s dismay, she couldn’t continue the conversation for several strides. When Gregory and Darkness finally merged back onto the same trail, Lillian sought her mother’s gaze. “Tell me what you mean”
“You’re aware that travel between the Realms is difficult, yes? Though it is disproportionate. The trip here to the Mortal Realm is less strenuous than the return journey. In fact, besides gargoyles, only dragons, phoenix, and gryphons have enough inherent natural power to return to the Magic Realm. Of those, only the most elite of their kind could make the return journey without damaging themselves. All others would require aid directly from the Magic Realm or some form of talisman that could enhance their natural magic.”
Lillian thought she knew where this was going without needing more details. “And somehow my hamadryads can offer that help.”
“Offer is perhaps incorrect, provide is a better one. Since she doesn’t, in fact, need to allow travellers to access the bridge.”
Lillian quirked an eyebrow.
“Your two hamadryads already form a bridge between Magic and Mortal Realms, allowing those with the knowledge to travel between with relative ease.”
That revelation made sense, but opened up a whole other branch of questions.
“You’re saying the Riven are planning to use my hamadryads to span the two Realms?”
“I think some have already done so. It’s the only explanation why they are already so numerous here. This Realm is so poor in magic, there is no way so many could have been spawned here by their normal mode of reproduction.”
“Dare I ask?” Lillian truly didn’t want to know if some Riven actually took children as hosts or if they shape shifted to look that way. She’d intentionally forgotten to ask Gregory that little detail.
But she was done being squeamish. Her lack of knowledge was going to get someone she loved killed. “Tell me anyway. I need to know.”
Her mother gave a very slight nod in acknowledgement. “You might call the Riven a plague, and it would be true in a literal sense. At their core, they began as a speck of evil, liken it to a seed if you wish. Once housed in a suitable host, that seed of evil grows. It multiplies and infects all parts of the host body, tainting it and warping it to the Riven’s needs. As the speck becomes a flood, it overwhelms the host and the Riven becomes a sentient, thinking, reasoning being.”
“Gods above. It’s like a virus or a cancer.” Lillian shivered in horror as another thought occurred. “An intelligent cancer that consumes you, body and soul.”
Her father flicked an ear in her direction and suddenly his voice was in her mind. “A soul belongs to the divine and cannot actually be consumed, but it can be enslaved. The Riven traps the host’s soul and uses it as a link to the body. Being more of the spiritual than the physical, without the soul to act as an anchor, the Riven couldn’t remain in the host and would drift away and be torn apart by the cleansing power of the elements.”
It was too horrible for words so she said nothing, merely tightening her hold on Gregory.
Perhaps sensing her distress Gregory interjected, “It’s all right, love. When we destroy a Riven, we are freeing the soul to return to the Spirit Realm where it can be cleansed and healed of all scars. And we will kill all the Riven, take peace in that.” Gregory twisted to nuzzle her shoulder. It was a small gesture, but eased the tension in her spine.
Yes, they would destroy the Riven to the last bloody one. She was hardily sick of them always sneaking around and then striking when one was weak.
Well, she’d show them what a coward’s reward was. “You said they have used my hamadryad as a bridge. How does that work? Because I’ve never seen a horde of Riven suddenly appear within my maze. I would have noticed that. And the protective spells on the glade like the Riven no better than I do.”
“As your mother mentioned,” Darkness continued, “the return journey is much more difficult unless one had a bridge. To return to the Magic Realm from here, one must have direct contact with the hamadryad, be potent with magic, and be willing to shed a bit of one’s own blood in payment. However, coming here is much easier. Think of it as a river or stream, the hamadryad in the Magic Realm feeds magic to the one here; that current is ever flowing and directional. Swimming against a current is difficult and requires much strength and skill. But the other way—simply jump into the current anywhere within a morning’s walk of the hamadryad and follow the flow of power here to the Mortal Realm. And as far as avoiding the stone circle protecting your grove, all the traveller needs to do is ‘jump’ out of the stream before they arrive at the destination and they will wash ashore somewhere else in this Realm.”
“Just like that?”
Gregory coughed. “It’s a bit more difficult than that, but yes, I understand your father’s meaning. Some Riven may have slipped through while I slept. If they were far away when they arrived here, they wouldn’t necessarily register as an immediate threat.”
“How far could travellers deviate from my hamadryad’s actual location?” That information would give them at least some idea where a Riven army might appear.
Gregory’s ears flicked back toward her a few times as if he was debating her question. Finally he said, “It would depend on how much power they were willing to expend. The more power, the farther the distance.”
So much for that idea, Lillian grumbled in the depths of her own mind. “How can we keep the Riven from arriving in mass? Is there a way to sever the bridge between the two hamadryads, even for a short while?”
“Not from this end,” Gregory replied.
“From the Magic Realm, then?”
Gregory remained silent.
“Yes,” her father said with equal reluctance. “But whoever tried would soon find an army marching upon them. To truly neutralize the threat, the Riven army must be destroyed.”
Lillian’s thoughts turned in another unhappy direction. “From what I’ve gathered, the Riven do not serve the Lady of Battles. They are like an experiment gone wrong. Yet she does nothing to curtail their activities? Why? She doesn’t seem the type to share power. Doesn’t she want to invade this Realm or conquer the entire universe or something like that?”
Her father made a huffing sound, though Lillian couldn’t decide if it was agreement or disagreement with her line of thought.
Her mother took pity and clarified for her. “The situation is complex. More so than even your gargoyle beloved may realize,” she said and glanced at Gregory. “The Lady of Battles mostly considers the Riven beneath her notice. From time to time, when they became too numerous, she would eradicate those encroaching upon her territories. Beyond that, she paid them little heed for they were nothing compared to her power. She was more focused on building her own army.”
Lillian tightened her hold on Gregory as he gathered himself and leapt over a fallen tree. When the way was smooth again, she asked, “If the Battle Goddess was looking to build an army, why didn’t she conscript the Riven—she and they seem like they’d make a perfectly bloodthirsty match.”
Her father huffed out a chuckle. “That was the problem. She demands loyalty above all else in her soldiers.”
Lillian’s stomach tightened at his words. If that was true, why were her parents here? Even though they had survived Gregory calling on divine power to heal the Hunt, that mention about loyalty put her parents’ true motives into question once again.
“By your expression, I know what you’re thinking, and,” her mother gave a slight shift to her shoulders, “yes, I was loyal to my Lady. All her subjects are, and I would still be serving her if I thought her actions wouldn’t bring about the death of my children.”
The Avatars Series: Books 1-3 Page 50
