by Ann Gimpel
A shadow flitted across Bran’s begrimed face, but Fionn might have imagined it.
“Nay. I’m sure she’s here somewhere, though.”
“You found him!” Andraste punched Bran’s arm before stalking to Fionn’s side. Her hair was clotted with ichor and hung in tangled mats. Her buckskin gown had long rents in the skirt and a bloody hole over one shoulder. “Get moving. We need you.”
“Aislinn needs me,” Fionn countered. “There are plenty of you here to finish things off.”
With his heart full of foreboding, he didn’t stand around to chew the point to death. Something had clearly happened somewhere between Dewi’s back and here. If he didn’t find out what it was now, the trail would grow cold, making his task that much harder.
Chapter Seventeen
Fionn put some distance between himself and the worst of the carnage. Once the interference from too much magic discharged in the same place cleared enough, he raised his mind voice and called Dewi.
Her peevish reply rattled his brain almost at once. “What? I’m busy. While we’re at it, where the hell are you? There are demons to kill.”
“Aislinn’s gone.”
Silence and then the thrum of wing beats. Dewi didn’t even try for grace as she dropped to the ground so close to him she nearly knocked him over.
“How could she possibly be gone?” Dewi demanded. “She was on my back, left when I told her to—”
“We’re wasting time. Ye’re bonded to her. If ye’re so certain she made it safely back, find her.”
The blast of power from Dewi scalded him, and Fionn retreated a few feet, waiting. Part of him hoped for a miracle, but the other part knew Aislinn wasn’t anywhere nearby. She had an unmistakable energy, and he’d know if she were here.
Dewi shuffled around until she faced him, her face etched with worry, lower jaw gaping open. “I don’t understand.”
Fionn shook his head. “Neither do I, but we have to find her.”
The dragon’s head drooped. “I haven’t the faintest idea where to look.”
“Narrows it down nicely.” Fionn didn’t bother to trim the rancor from his voice. “’Tis your fault. Ye put her at risk.”
Dewi’s dark eyes whirled dangerously fast. “Now you’re the one wasting time.” She took a step closer and shook a foreleg at him. “Life is risk, or haven’t you noticed?”
Fionn swallowed hard. “Ye’re right. Let’s think this through rather than tear each other to shreds. The only way Aislinn could have vanished between your back and the ground is if someone else intervened with magic. There was so much power being jockeyed about, probably ye wouldna have noticed someone lurking nearby.”
Criticism never sat well with the dragon. Fire streamed from her jaws, missing him by a narrow margin, but Fionn held his ground. “Get hold of yourself, Dewi. Aislinn needs us.”
More fire. The dragon shook her head and a shrill, keening cry escaped her. “First my brood and now this.”
Fionn gentled his voice. “I know ye love her, Dewi. I do too. We have to find her and Rune, who apparently got sucked into wherever Aislinn went.”
“Should we go to Perrikus’s borderworld?”
Fionn thought about it. “Probably not. ’Tis the first place they’d think we’d look. Nay, my bet is somewhere on Earth. One of the oldest strategies is to hide something in plain sight.”
“So here in the Old Country, back in the States, or elsewhere? Earth’s a big place.”
Fionn watched the dragon. At least she was settling down since her eyes, while still whirling like pinwheels, had slowed. “They’ll probably go where they have an established presence. Problem is I’m not all that familiar with the dark gods’ history. I have no idea where they lived afore Odin imprisoned them in Asgard. ’Twas only after they escaped that they ended up on the borderworlds.”
The dragon ground her teeth together, producing a gnashing noise that made Fionn want to punch her.
“We can ask Nidhogg. In fact, I will. Give me a moment.”
Fionn shifted from foot to foot, anxious to get moving, but understanding that action without some kind of plan was worse than no action at all. He could blow through huge blocks of time and not get one angstrom closer to Aislinn. His heart twisted in his chest. Life without the only woman he’d ever loved wouldn’t be worth shit. His immortality mocked him until it was all he could do not to race headlong into the demon throng and kick some serious demon ass. It wouldn’t bring Aislinn back, but the purity of dealing out death would distract him.
“You still have me,” Bella spoke low, her voice laced with pain.
He hadn’t exactly forgotten about the raven, but she wasn’t front and center in his mind, either. Guilt smote him and he stroked her feathers. “Aye, Bella. Doona think I doona appreciate it.”
Wings thumped above them and Nidhogg crashed to the ground a few feet away. “Goddess’s tits, but I’m tired.” He turned his green gaze on Fionn. “You need Odin. I propose a compromise. Help us dispatch the rest of the demons, and I’ll fly you to Asgard.”
“But Aislinn could be dead by then,” Fionn protested.
“She might be already,” Nidhogg said, “and there are lives here you could help save.”
“I don’t need you to get to Asgard,” Fionn countered.
“True, but Odin’s more likely to help you if I ask.”
Fionn recalled the enmity between the Celts and the Norse gods. Reluctant agreement curdled his stomach. “Fine,” he ground out. “Half an hour.”
“Good choice.” The Norse dragon shot an appraising glance his way. “It shouldn’t take much more than that.”
But Fionn wasn’t listening. He spun and bolted back the way he’d come, calling power as he ran. By the time he waded into the remaining demons, his vision hazed red with fury, and he handed out death with machinelike precision. Normally, he’d have enjoyed killing these bastards, but today all he could think about was Aislinn, her lithe body spread-eagled as someone tortured her.
Demon stench mingled with the coppery scent of blood and the sickly-sweet miasma of shit from ruptured entrails, but Fionn didn’t waste power shielding himself. Blood from a falling dinosaur demon splattered him, but when he twisted to avoid the worst of it, a troll blew up, showering him with black ichor and chunks of stone. He wiped the worst of it out of his eyes and picked his next target. War was never pretty, and the sooner he mowed through the stinking rotters the sooner he could go after his love.
* * * *
Aislinn came to with the back of her head aching and a nasty taste in the back of her throat. Momentarily disoriented, she listened for the battle she was certain still raged, but all she heard was the beat of her own heart. Something hot and wet licked her hand. Rune. She tried to stroke his rough fur, but her body was slow to respond.
“You’re awake.”
A feeble croak emerged, but the wolf nipped her and said, “Mind speech.”
Aislinn struggled to focus, but her brain felt like mush. She pushed to a sit and forced her eyes open. A dimly lit room spread around her, with a rickety cot braced against one wall. A small, round table with two chairs butted against another. The walls were white plaster, and large wooden beams riddled with termite holes ran across the ceiling. Slowly, things registered. No windows. She gazed around the room, grateful beyond measure to see a door.
“Where are we?” she asked Rune.
“I don’t know exactly, but a long way from where we sat on Dewi.”
Aislinn digested the information and rubbed a lump at the base of her skull. No wonder her head hurt, but why take the trouble to hit her? Did whoever captured her not have magic?
She patted the narrow cot. Rune jumped up next to her and licked her chin. The cot creaked and swayed, but held. “You slept long. I was worried.”
She pulled the wolf into her arms, reassured by the solid feel of him against her. “Were you awake the whole time? Did you see our captors?”
“Yes and
yes.”
“Did you recognize anyone?” Aislinn held her breath. Rune had met Perrikus, D’Chel, and Tokhots.
The wolf shook his head. “There were two. A woman, who I believe is one of the dark gods from her smell. The other was a lackey, an underling. He obeyed her commands as if he feared her.”
Aislinn let go of Rune and pushed to her feet. Walking would help clear her head, so she paced from one end of the smallish room to the other and then back again.
Rune whined anxiously. “You should sit, mistress.”
“No, I have to find a way out of here.” Saying the words joggled her memory, and she reached for her magic, but gently. The last thing she wanted to do was alert whoever might be watching them. Rune’s description of a female dark god had to be Majestron Zalia. Aislinn had come across her once before, the experience so disorienting she’d almost crapped herself. As strikingly beautiful as the male gods were handsome, Majestron radiated pure evil. Despite her waist-length black curls, midnight blue eyes, and tall, curvaceous figure, she’d been nearly impossible to look at. Just being within range had set Aislinn’s teeth on edge and turned her guts to water.
She swallowed around a dry-as-dust throat and tried to suck moisture from her cheeks to help. Some thoughtful soul—or maybe just somebody who didn’t fancy mopping up piss and shit—had chucked a bucket in one corner, but no one had left her anything else. Not that it was safe to drink or eat anything on the borderworlds—if that was where she was.
Her head pounded relentlessly, and she eased herself back next to Rune. Aislinn sucked a deep breath in, tasted the air, examined it, and blew it back out. Then she did it again. She might be wrong, but if they were on a borderworld, it wasn’t the same one she’d been imprisoned on last time.
“How long did it take us to get here?” she asked the wolf. “And did we go through that part where there wasn’t any air?”
“We got here fast. The time it takes for prey to run from me to a nearby den.” Rune cocked his head to one side. “No problems breathing. Not like when we traveled with Fionn and Dewi.”
Good news. That meant they were still somewhere on Earth, which made rescuing themselves easier. She pieced together what must have happened. Dewi had instructed her to wait until she couldn’t hold on any longer and then to teleport to the ground. Because the dragon had been consumed by the spell running through her, she hadn’t shielded her instructions.
Which means someone was close enough to listen in. Probably the same someone who’d manipulated them into opening Hell’s gates. Aislinn shivered. For once, she’d left without her rucksack, and she wished for its contents. She always carried a water bottle, spare food, and an extra jacket. Rune leaned closer, draping himself across her and sharing his body heat.
“Are you ill?” he asked. “It’s not cold in here.”
How to explain to him that her spirit was shaken by knowing how close evil had come without her sensing it. If it was Majestron Zalia, the woman was smart. She’d taken full advantage of the plethora of different magics blasting every which way to hide herself.
“No, Rune. I’m all right.”
“Can you access your power?”
“I think so.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and then scrubbed the heels of her hands down her face. She’d checked her magic, and then gotten sidetracked by her fears about Majestron Zalia. Clearly, she wasn’t firing on all cylinders.
Aislinn pushed toward the part of her that held her power and found the well depleted, but accessible. Obviously, her captors weren’t concerned about her escaping, which meant there were some lethal booby-traps between her and freedom. She shook her head sharply. It would help if her mind was clearer.
“How long have we been here? You said I slept long.”
The wolf hesitated. Time questions weren’t his forte. “After we got to Mount Shasta, the Old Ones came. Then time passed before they took us to Taltos. That’s close to how long since they locked us in this room.”
Aislinn remembered that night well. “Thank you. Means we’ve been here four hours, maybe five.” No wonder she was thirsty and getting hungry.
Rune nudged her with his snout. “If you’re well enough, we should leave while we can. It might be difficult out there, but at least we can hide.”
She didn’t want to disabuse him of the notion, but it would be a neat trick to conceal themselves from someone with strong magic. If they were in a forested region with other wolves, Rune was home free, but she wasn’t. She turned her thoughts inward, assessing just how low her batteries were. Dewi had slipped into her mind during the struggle to close the gateway, and had run through her power as if it were an inexhaustible resource. Still, a few hours had elapsed since then, and at least some of her ability was back online.
Aislinn clacked her jaws together. Anything was better than waiting like a tethered ninny for Majestron Zalia to come waltzing in. No matter what the dark goddess had in mind, it couldn’t be good. She stumbled upright and tiptoed to the door, laying her ear against it. When she didn’t hear any sounds coming from the other side, she paid out a tendril of Seeker magic to see if she could discover what held the door closed.
Wards. Layer upon layer held with intricate bindings that would take her days to unravel.
“No wonder they didn’t post a guard,” she muttered, not bothering with mind speech. Nothing could penetrate what she’d sensed, either in or out.
“Can we teleport?” Rune hadn’t given up on telepathic speech.
“Not if this entire room is wrapped in the same stuff they have outside the door.”
The wolf growled softly, walked to the far wall and hiked his leg. Urine splattered down the whitewashed plaster, and Aislinn grinned.
“Yeah, buddy, I’d like to piss all over them too.”
An idea formed, raw and desperate. One of the five powers she commanded was Seer magic. Unfortunately, it was her weakest suit, but if she didn’t screw things up, she could turn back time. Maybe not very far, but all she needed was a do over on being dumped in this room. She closed her eyes and reached for a calm center.
“What are you doing?” Rune demanded as he trotted to her side.
“Ssht. This is hard for me. I’m going to try to jump us to an earlier point in time. Hopefully one where we can alter the outcome.”
“We’ll still be a long way from home.”
She knelt next to him. “It’s not like we have hundreds of options here. It will take me too long to untangle the warding, and someone would discover what I was doing long before I was done. I’m sure they set markers in their spell to alert them if I try to tamper with it.”
He licked her chin. “Tell me what you need from me.”
“I will.” She tried not to think about what might happen to Rune if this didn’t work. Her own death was one thing, but for Rune to die because of his unquestioning loyalty was unacceptable. Anger straightened her backbone and cleared her jumbled thoughts. It had always been her ace in the hole, and it didn’t fail her now as she laid the groundwork for her spell.
Fionn had tried to explain to her how Seer magic worked, but she hadn’t fully understood him. Somehow, it bent the strands of time and allowed the user to reenter a scene or an event at a different point. She supposed it might work to travel forward too, but she’d never done that.
What was the best time to aim for? When she and Rune were still on Dewi’s back would be optimal, but she wasn’t at all sure she could buy herself that many hours. Second best was when she and Rune arrived at their current location and were being transported into this building. Someone had clonked her over the head to make it easy for themselves, which argued against there being more than the two people Rune told her about, and it was likely that the man had no power of his own.
“Rune. Send me an image of when they brought us here.” No matter how impenetrable the wards, telepathic speech was still safer. The vision bloomed before her eyes, and ice chips congealed
in her blood. It was Majestron Zalia, but looking far more beleaguered than on the other occasion Aislinn had seen her. Rather than a jeweled gown, she wore skin-tight black trousers and a low-cut black top. Lace-up black boots came to her knees. The mounds of dark, curly hair hadn’t changed, nor had her cold, blue eyes or the harsh line of her perfect jaw.
No wonder she looks so furious. Her master plan to unleash Hell’s denizens went sideways. Maybe Rune and I were a consolation prize, not planned for, but too good to pass up.
She placed a hand on Rune’s broad head. “Once I activate my spell—assuming it works—you’ll see this same scene as if you’re a spectator. Link to the wolf in the scene and run like the wind.”
“What will you be doing?”
“The same thing. We’ll have a few minutes’ grace before Majestron realizes what’s happening. Rewinding time has a built in lag factor.”
Another scene blasted her, thick timber choked with dense undergrowth. “Head this way,” he said. “See the white-barked tree in the middle?”
She nodded. “Does everything outside look like that?”
“Yes, but this is the only tree with light-colored bark. Sometimes their root systems are hollow and create underground hiding places for game.”
Aislinn’s throat tightened, and she hugged her wolf. “I love you. If we don’t manage to get through this, I wanted you to know.”
He wriggled in her grasp. “Victory. Don’t even consider anything else.”
“For Christ’s fucking sake, you sound just like Fionn. I’m not certain Seer magic will do any better negating the warding than teleporting.”
“Desperate times require desperate solutions.”
Marta, the wolf’s last bondmate, had been a highly educated physician and fluent in both Latin and Greek. She’d raised Rune and taught him an enormous amount, including classic quotes like the one he’d just spouted.
Aislinn laid her cheek against the wolf’s head. “Thanks, Ace.”
Rune swiped her face with his tongue and then did it again. If he was offering moral support, it worked, because confidence built in her chest, overshadowing her anxiety. She could be emotional later. Now was the time for action.
