Redeemed: Bitter Harvest Book Five

by Ann Gimpel

  “I have no idea how many. Oberon and Titania went to gather them.” Leif frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” Moira asked.

  “Nothing, but we need to craft a battle strategy that doesn’t include them—in case they don’t show up on time, or at all.”

  “Kind of difficult to plot a course when part of your cohort’s not here,” the whale seconded. “Won’t matter overmuch. It’s not help we’d planned on. If they get there, we’ll welcome their aid. If not—” he shrugged.

  “They knew about the fissure.” Leif eyed the whale and saw surprise register.

  “How?” the whale asked. “It’s a long distance from their homeland.”

  “They sensed evil leaking through,” Moira answered.

  “Which suggests this undertaking will be far harder than any of us are counting on.” Leif aimed his words at the whale.

  “We need everyone included in this discussion,” Viktor said.

  “Agreed. How do you want that to happen?” Juan asked.

  “Dining room in an hour, so it coincides with dinner. Did anyone make anything?”

  “Not yet, but it’s easily remedied.” Ketha loped out of the bridge with Aura and Moira behind her.

  “Shall I alert the pod?” the whale asked.

  “Sure. Thanks.” Leif told him. He’d rather have gathered his people, but the whale needed time to rethink the threat they faced.

  The whale left by an outside door, probably heading for the quarterdeck to shuck his clothes and shift.

  “What did you really think about your sojourn in fairyland?” Viktor asked.

  Leif weighed what to say. The only ones on the bridge were Vik, Juan, and himself. “Why do you believe I’ve left things out?” He met Viktor’s forthright gaze. The raven Shifter’s green eyes glittered like uncut emeralds.

  “Because you’re like me. You play with the endgame in mind and ignore the little parts you deem unimportant.”

  “Fair enough.” Leif hooked a foot beneath a stool and dragged it close. “At first, Oberon and Titania took a stand and told the faeries they couldn’t honor Amithra’s bargain.”

  “Who’s she?” Viktor broke in.

  “The green-haired faery who freed Ketha in exchange for escaping Ceridwen’s clutches.”

  “Got it. Go on.” He thinned his mouth into a tight line. “I’m having a hell of a hard time believing you laid eyes on two mythical figures from storybook land, but what changed the king’s and queen’s minds?”

  “Several things,” Leif replied. “Apparently the faeries don’t answer to them. They made it abundantly clear they were free agents, which could fit in with Aura’s prophecy about them leaving their hills and barrows and breaking free from the Fae.” He creased his brow, remembering the flow of events. “What really seemed to get to them, though, was one faery who challenged their refusal. She asked what if this were the decisive battle to save Earth and they missed being part of it? Missed being included in history?”

  “I can see where that would be a seductive argument,” Juan said.

  “It drove them into consultation mode,” Leif went on. “While they were closeted behind a magical barrier, we explained to the faeries what we needed. Before we were quite finished, Oberon loosed his ward and announced he wouldn’t miss the upcoming battle for the world. Not quite those words, mind you, but you get the drift. On the heels of that statement, he said he’d be bringing a host of Fae with him.

  “He and Titania left after that, and Moira and I shepherded the faeries into position to begin constructing the tunnel.”

  “Do you know Oberon well?” Juan asked.

  Leif bit back a snort, but part of it emerged anyway. “You might say so. I stole from him as a youthful prank and spent the next year one step up from an indentured servant. If you’re questioning how reliable he is, he’s as good as his word. The part that’s lacking is his sense of time.”

  “What do you mean?” Viktor asked.

  “It’s not Oberon’s fault,” Leif replied. “Not really. Time flows differently for immortals. He appeared to be delighted to be off in search of troops. I imagine things grow dull when your existence is always the same.”

  “Dull, huh?” Juan made a sour face. “Couldn’t he have done something to stave off the Cataclysm before it spewed so much poison?”

  “Probably not. Magic tends to be species specific, and it was Shifter magic that broke the world. It’s rather like asking if a Russian chess master can pilot a submarine.”

  “Apples and oranges,” Viktor muttered. “Besides, Ketha was convinced the origins of the Shifter spell gone bad were cloaked in secrecy for ten years. She tried to break through, figure things out, the whole time they were stuck in Ushuaia and only managed it right before Raphael captured her.”

  “I remember,” Juan said. “I also remember finally getting out from under that old fucker’s thumb. Things moved pretty fast once he was out of the way.”

  “Fast in some ways,” Viktor agreed. “Back then, we were convinced we’d solved the problem, and we set sail to see what was left of the world.”

  “I wondered how you ended up on Arkady,” Leif said. “You’d already faced several unexpected setbacks when you rescued my pod and me.”

  “It’s one way to put it.” Viktor’s words held a sour note. “By then, we’d determined we couldn’t retreat to Ushuaia unless it was to wait out the end of the world.”

  “So we kept going.” Juan glanced from Leif to Viktor. “Part of me believes this last battle is nothing but a sham. Even if we win, some other manifestation of evil will crop up to taunt us.”

  “Maybe so,” Leif said, “but we have to fight the battles that are put in front of us. Just because it’s not the last or the hardest or we don’t know doesn’t excuse us from doing our damnedest to succeed.”

  “Did you leave anything else out concerning Oberon and his consort?” Viktor asked.

  Leif was able to look him in the eye and say, “No. The last piece is about the faeries. Some were concerned they wouldn’t have enough time to build the passageway. It’s harder when they don’t have a borderworld’s magic to leverage.”

  “Do they have a way to reach us?” Juan asked.

  “Telepathy,” Leif replied.

  Juan made a face. “Of course. One of these years, I’ll get used to magic being part of the weave of everyday life.”

  “You’ve only been a Shifter for a few months,” Leif said. “Cut yourself some slack.”

  “Si, amigo, but I was a Vampire for a long time. Never warmed to it.”

  “I’m not seeing that as a cause for complaint.” Leif smiled, but it held grim edges. “Never met a Vamp I liked, and they were thicker than fleas a few hundred years ago when it was much easier to find victims.”

  Viktor had been studying the bank of instruments. “We’re closing on our objective. Is there anything more we can do to get ready?”

  “Beyond crafting a battle plan?” Leif raised one brow.

  “Yes. Will I need to secure the ship?”

  Leif shook his head. “Demons have no use for ships.”

  “Everyone should be in the dining room by now,” Juan cut in. “I’ll go down and make certain, so I can round up any stragglers.”

  Leif waited until Juan left. “I hope these next few days bring us success. If I don’t make it, knowing you has been a privilege.”

  Viktor extended his hand, and Leif clasped it. “Don’t think like that, mate.”

  “I have to accept reality,” Leif countered. “I was living on borrowed time when your veterinarians rescued me. I’m grateful for every added moment of life. As alpha, I will put the lives of my pod over my own. It’s hardwired into my makeup.”

  “I can see how you’re linked with the other thirteen here,” Viktor said, “but did you have a connection to your entire pod when it numbered in the thousands?”

  Leif nodded.

  “How could you keep them straight?”

&nb
sp; “I never questioned how. It’s part of being their alpha. I probably shouldn’t say this, but land Shifters lost an elemental part of being Shifters when they moved away from reporting to an alpha.”

  “Eh, I haven’t been a Shifter long enough to recognize the fine points.” Viktor cracked a wry smile. “My raven reminds me of that all the time. Ready to go downstairs?”

  “Yes. I want to get this next part over with. Parceling out tasks is never easy.”

  “Some jobs are harder than others,” Viktor said.

  “And inherently more dangerous,” Leif agreed, “which is why I solicit volunteers whenever I have time. People work harder when it’s a task they’ve selected, rather than one that’s been foisted upon them.”

  “I like you.” Viktor punched his shoulder lightly. “And I don’t speak those words lightly.”

  “The feeling is mutual, land Shifter. Shall we?” Leif angled his head toward the door.

  Viktor made a few course adjustments and then followed him out of the bridge.

  Leif’s mind was busy, running a million directions at once as he trotted briskly down several sets of risers. The foul magic that had stirred up the last storm was absent, but probably far from gone. A creeping wrongness scuttled up his spine. He was edgy and might have imagined something harsh lurking on the sidelines, plotting its next attempt to sabotage them getting close enough to Wrangel Island to challenge the gateway’s guardian.

  He raised his mind voice. “Lewis?”

  “Right here, Alpha.”

  “Did you reach Poseidon?”

  “I did. Mission accomplished. The expression on his face was worth having to breathe the same air.”

  Satisfaction began in Leif’s feet and spread through him. “Thank you.”

  “For once, the pleasure was all mine. See you in the dining room.”

  16

  I Walk in Front

  Moira was huddled in the smaller dining room with all the other Shifter women. One of the things they’d decided the night before was she’d teach them what she’d learned from Leif about leveraging their magic to teleport. The plan was for Ketha, Aura, Zoe, and Karin to then explain the technique to their mates.

  “What am I doing wrong?” Zoe muttered when the shimmery air around her broke into motes of shiny brilliance and fell to the deck.

  Moira chewed her lower lip, thinking. “You’re empathic. Maybe if you downplay that piece.”

  Zoe spun her hand in a circle. “Could ye say a wee bit more?”

  “It’s not an intuitive mixture, particularly the fire aspect. Perhaps your magical nature is working at odds with the spell.”

  Karin frowned. “Magic doesn’t operate like that, though. It blends with whatever direction we shape it.”

  Moira bit back exasperation and rolled her shoulders amid cracking joints, which told her she’d been sitting far too long. “Fine. You come up with something useful for her. Granted this wasn’t exactly smooth at the beginning, but everyone’s managed to teleport to the bridge and back again.”

  “Except me.” Zoe sounded glum.

  Moira walked to her side and gave her a quick, hard hug. “You’ll figure it out. Believing in your ability is half the battle.”

  “Sure and ye’re not telling me aught I doona already know.” Zoe’s brogue was more pronounced than usual, reflecting her distress.

  The dining room door flew open, and Leif strode in. “How’s it going?”

  Moira was happy to see him. They’d spent the previous evening glancing at one another and looking away just as rapidly. He’d retired to the sea to firm up details with his pod after their strategy session.

  “Pretty well.” Moira gestured for him to come farther into the room. “Maybe you can help us figure out why Zoe is having difficulty.”

  He quirked a curious brow. “Only her?”

  “Aye, ’twould be sad but true.” Zoe flexed her fingers; little jolts of leftover magic flared from them. “Mayhap one of the rest of you could work with Recco. Surely, he’ll have more facility than I do for this maneuver.”

  “You can’t give up.” Leif moved close and dropped a hand on her shoulder. Moira felt him scan her with magic. A knowing smile tugged the edges of his mouth, a mouth Moira wanted more kisses from.

  “What’d you find?” Zoe demanded.

  “You know that point midway into the spell where you add earth?” At her nod, he went on, “Skip that. Add water. Visualize the Irish Sea. Go ahead”—he stepped back—“try it now while I’m here.”

  Moira backed up as well, offering room for Zoe to work. The coyote Shifter shut her eyes, chanting softly, and worked her hands in the intricate patterns that were part of her magic. Moira stilled her breathing, willing Leif’s suggestion to do the trick. Zoe was demoralized, as well she might be given the other ten of them had managed with very little difficulty. When you became too discouraged, magic often deserted you, almost as if it was saying it wouldn’t believe in you if you refused to have faith in it.

  The air around Zoe took on the same glistening aspect it had her other half dozen tries, but this time she vanished without fanfare. One moment she was there, the next gone.

  “How’d you know what to tell her?” Ketha asked Leif.

  He shrugged. “She has a lot of water in her makeup, probably might have become a sea Shifter if one of the sea creatures had staked a claim to her first. Since the path Moira described wasn’t working for Zoe, I suggested the one I use.”

  “Probably a worthwhile lesson,” Karin said, adopting her thoughtful, scientist tone. “Since I’ll be teaching Daide.”

  “And I’ll be coaching Juan,” Aura noted. “It’s important to have a fallback strategy when the primary one fails.”

  Magic flashed bright out of the corners of Moira’s eyes. Zoe tumbled into a crouch and sprang to her feet, squealing, “Yay! I did it! I canna believe that worked. ’Twas so simple with a wee bit of alteration in the directions.” She covered the distance to Leif and threw her arms around his neck, kissing both cheeks. “Thank you.”

  “You’re quite welcome.” Color rose to his stubble-covered cheeks.

  A hot, quick jab of jealousy stabbed Moira. Zoe had a mate. She needed to take her hands off Leif. Right now. Moira jammed her jaws together and balled her hands into fists to keep herself from hooking her fingers around Zoe’s arm and pulling her away from Leif.

  Zoe let go, still beaming.

  “It appears our work here is done,” Karin said, looking satisfied.

  “Yeah, but this was the easy task,” Ketha reminded everyone.

  “You are such a killjoy,” Tessa mumbled.

  Ketha sent a grim smile skittering her way. “No matter how diligently we prepare, we’ll wish we’d done more.”

  “At least this is an enemy we can come face to face with.” Leif’s words were lined with bitterness.

  “As opposed to the Cataclysm?” Moira asked.

  “Something like that,” he replied.

  “We managed to lure it into open combat,” Ketha said, “but it took ten years to figure out a way.”

  “Unfortunately, it wore different faces in different parts of the world,” Karin added.

  “Which was why we only thought we defeated it,” Aura tossed in. “Victory was sweet while it lasted, though.”

  Zoe elbowed her. “You’re a historian. You should know victories are never permanent.”

  Aura narrowed her eyes to slits. “I do know that. Sorry to say, defeat can develop a life of its own. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

  “Nothing that happens is fair.” A stern tone lined Leif’s words. “Even if we emerge victorious from closing the fissure, it’s far from a guarantee. Evil has always been here. We can slow it down, stymie its progress, but that’s the best we can hope for.”

  “Earth is changed,” Moira murmured. “We’re still finding our way.” She swallowed around a thick place in her throat. “I hope we’re offered a chance to make a life for ourselve
s because if we can’t staunch the flow of demonspawn, the planet is done for.”

  “If that happens,” Leif said, “we might consider relocating to a borderworld. It would be a one-way trip, though. If we remain very long, the will and desire to leave will desert us.”

  “I’d wondered about that.” Ketha scrunched her features into a frown. “Being an expatriate beats fighting a string of battles until one finally kills you.”

  “This discussion is premature,” Leif said. “It’s one we’ll only have if we lose.” He tossed his long, tangled hair over his shoulders. “And we’re not going to lose. Got it?” Amid a chorus of got its, he went on, “My pod is ready to practice battle drills with you.”

  “Give us half an hour,” Karin said. “Should be long enough for us to give Viktor, Juan, Recco, and Daide a crash course in this method of teleporting, which won’t deplete their magic.”

  “Yes. That way, we’ll be ready for anything, including the faeries’ tunnel not being finished or not having enough magic for all of us to use it,” Moira said.

  “Half an hour?” Ketha glanced Leif’s way.

  “That will work. We’re drawing even with the Kamchatka Peninsula. Some of the eastern coves will provide a perfect practice location.”

  “Tell us where to meet you,” Aura said.

  Leif grinned; it transformed his face into something so striking, Moira couldn’t have looked away if she tried. Her heart gave a funny little hitch.

  “You only just now learned to teleport effectively.” Leif pointed out. “Meet us outside on Deck Three, and we’ll all go together. That way we won’t waste time tracking down stragglers.”

  Ketha trailed curved fingers through her unbound hair. “Recco and Daide will want to join us. Maybe Vik and Juan could take turns since one will need to man the helm.”

  The deck canted to one side and then back. Moira waited to see if it was an isolated wave, but it happened again. “Damn it. Looks like the water’s getting choppy.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Leif said. “The wind was picking up, but this feels like a natural phenomenon, not something formed by magic.”