Redeemed: Bitter Harvest Book Five

by Ann Gimpel

  “Not much we can do about it,” Karin said. “We’ll see how things look in thirty minutes and if we need to alter our plans, we will.” She headed out of the dining room with the other women strung out behind her chattering excitedly.

  Moira hung back, craving a few private moments with Leif but not wanting to appear too forward. “How’s your pod doing?”

  “Their spirits are high, but they want to get their teeth into the battle.” He turned and looked right at her in his direct way. “When you were certain your life was numbered in days, any event is worth looking forward to. Even one where some of your kin might not make it through.”

  “I suppose that’s true enough.” She thought back to her years in Ushuaia, many of which she’d spent buried in denial, and cleared her throat. “It was only during the last few months in Ushuaia, when I couldn’t ignore the worsening air and tainted water, I let myself contemplate my death.”

  “You’re a fighter.”

  “Correction. I used to be. Once I got done feeling sorry for myself and blaming the other women because I was stuck in Argentina, I moved to full-on ostrich-dom.”

  He tilted his head. “I’m not understanding. What is it ostriches do that reflected your situation?”

  “Put their heads in the sand.” She smiled softly. “I don’t imagine they really do that, but it’s been an urban myth for a lot of years.”

  He dropped his hands onto her shoulders, keeping his touch light. “I would spare you pain and unpleasantness if I could.”

  “I appreciate the thought, but I never did the kept-woman routine very well—or at all.”

  He moved a hand from her shoulder to cup the side of her face. “Another word choice I’m not familiar with, but I can pick it up from context. Wanting to spare you misery exists in a whole different universe from locking you in a tower.” His eyes crinkled at their corners. “Although, I admit to a fleeting desire to sequester you in a cabin until the battle is over.”

  Heat from his palm seared her and made her long for more. She leaned into his touch. “Do you still?”

  “Yes and no. Being near you makes me happy in ways I never thought would grace my life.”

  Moira understood. “And being happy like that makes you afraid. At least, it makes me afraid. I want to cling to the feelings I have when we’re close to one another, but I want to run away from them at the same time because I worry they’ll interfere with some crucial little detail. I’ll forget something, and it will mean someone dies or is hurt. And then, I’ll have a hell of a time forgiving myself.”

  “Precisely. I still blame myself so many of my pod died, even though it’s irrational and there was naught I could do to prevent any of it.”

  “Do you think we’ll get another shot at Poseidon and Amphitrite?”

  “I do. They’re part of whatever’s behind the fissure.” The softness left his face, leaving harsh planes; a muscle flickered beneath one eye. “If it’s within my power, I want to seal them inside. They picked evil. Let them parlay with the devil for the rest of their days. Being immortal means they’ll have a long time to contemplate their choices. At least Lewis made certain Poseidon knows about his consort’s loose morals.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “While we were gone rounding up the faeries.”

  Moira rolled her eyes. “Serves the old bastard right. How’d he react? Or did he already know?”

  “From Lewis’s description, I’m fairly certain it was new information. Poseidon hung around just long enough to test Lewis with a truth spell—”

  A rush of strong magic sent her twirling out of Leif’s arms, hands raised to call magic. “What’s coming?” she cried.

  “Not sure. I don’t recognize it.” He pushed in front of her, between where she stood and the unusual sensation. Magic crackled, turning the air electric. Little blue lightning bolts danced around them, and the stench of ozone burned her nostrils.

  Moira moved to the side, so she stood next to Leif. “I need to see what we face.”

  “But I can’t protect you as well.”

  “We’ll protect each other.” Moira sent her magic outward, sensing, seeking. What the hell was racing their way? She switched to her psychic view; the ley lines glowed as if supercharged with the far lines so brilliant they seared her corneas.

  “Smart.” Leif stood shoulder to shoulder touching her, but at least he’d given up on shoving her behind him.

  “Not sure about smart, but something’s activated the lines…” Realization crashed into her. “Has to be Eiocha. The question is what she wants.”

  “I came to the same conclusion. We won’t have to wait long to find out.”

  The bright, glowing place came closer in surges that moved in and drew back, but each successive wave ended up nearer than the last. The distant sound of thundering hooves grew louder, clinching her impression Eiocha was almost upon them. The horse goddess wanted something, but what?

  Leif threaded an arm around her and dropped his other hand to his side. Moira had nearly forgotten about the defensive magic she’d summoned, and she loosed it, watching it fritter into shimmery motes that settled to the deck.

  A deck that was rocking and rolling from side to side with far more fury than before. Waves crashed against the hull, making a hollow, booming noise that reverberated in the pit of her stomach.

  A glowing hole ripped through the air over by the windows, and Eiocha jumped through. Her silvery-white hide glistened, and her eyes were a lighter blue than they’d been in her cavern. She pranced to where they stood, sashaying on hooves big as dinner plates.

  Leif bowed low. “Goddess. You honor me with your presence.”

  Moira bowed too. The temptation to blurt something like, “Why are you here?” was strong, but she rode herd on it.

  “Where is everyone else?” the horse asked in Gaelic. “I sense many yet see only you two.”

  “Spread throughout the ship.” Leif lifted his head. “Do you need us in one place?”

  Rather than answer his question, she replied with one of her own. “Have you crafted battle plans?”

  “They’re in process,” Moira replied.

  “And easy to alter at this point,” Leif broke in. “Have you come to stand with us?”

  The horse tossed its head and whinnied. “My old associates, the king and queen of Faerie, paid me a visit. They convinced me this battle was worthy of my time, that wickedness will commandeer my children, my ley lines, if the tide doesn’t turn in our favor.”

  Words crowded at the back of Moira’s throat wanting out, but she swallowed them. They’d told Eiocha much the same thing, but the horse goddess had ignored them. Apparently, messages from those she considered peers carried more weight.

  The ship canted to port before snapping back to starboard. Moira might have stumbled except for Leif’s arm still holding onto her. Eiocha tossed her head. Power boiled around her, flaring bright white. Moira switched away from her psychic view to save her third eye from blindness. By the time the dining room swam back into focus, a tall, regal woman draped in a long, white dress stood before them. Silver hair fell to deck level, but the goddess’s eyes were the same, a rich and varied blue.

  Moira blinked in surprise.

  Eiocha stood straighter. “I can take many forms. This one will be more convenient, as I doubt my horse would fit through most of this vessel’s passageways. ’Tis also a convenience to converse without expending magic.”

  “What the hell?” Viktor exploded through the dining room door, the old Remington tucked under his arm.

  Leif hastily inserted his body between Viktor and Eiocha. “All is well. This is Eiocha, guardian of the world’s magic.”

  Viktor engaged the rifle’s safety. “But I thought she was a horse.” He strode forward, one hand extended. “I’m Viktor Gaelen, captain of this ship.”

  Eiocha angled her head but didn’t take his hand. “The other one gave you my name. I would hear an apology for pointin
g a weapon in my direction.”

  Viktor settled the rifle’s stock on the heaving deck. “I apologize if I trampled on your toes, but keeping this ship as safe as I can is my job. I felt a great deal of magic burst from this quadrant of the ship and hurried to investigate.”

  The goddess crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I didn’t ask for an explanation, mortal, but an apology.”

  Annoyance flickered across Viktor’s features. He bowed, but not very much. “Apologies.”

  “Better. If we are to be allies, we will have to find acceptable ways of working together.”

  “Allies?” Viktor exchanged a pointed look with Leif.

  “Indeed.” Leif smiled pleasantly. “Eiocha has come to offer aid in the upcoming battle.”

  “Where is everyone?” Eiocha repeated her earlier query. “No time like the present to launch a practice session.”

  “We’re all meeting one deck up outside,” Leif told her.

  “Excellent. One of you will show me the route.”

  “Right this way,” Moira swept past her and started for the dining room door.

  “Stop right there. I walk in front,” Eiocha said, her tone pointed.

  Moira ground to a halt and turned. “Please don’t take this as disrespectful, but it’s far easier for you to follow me than for me to trudge behind you barking orders.”

  “Not orders, my dear. Suggestions.”

  Moira pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. When she dropped her hand to her side, she said, “I appreciate your offer of aid. We could use it. But we cannot worry every single word or suggestion will be met with disapproval from you if you believe we didn’t treat you with adequate respect. Or violated some tradition you honed back in two thousand B.C.”

  “Everyone on this ship is an equal,” Leif said. “We have different magics, different methods of deploying that magic, and differing roles. Regardless, no one has more value than anyone else.”

  Eiocha looked down her patrician nose at them. “Did you outline that structure when you requested aid from Oberon and Titania?”

  “We didn’t have to,” Leif replied. “And we didn’t request their aid. The faeries made it clear the king and queen would be remiss to ignore a decisive battle, so they decided to raise a Fae army and meet us at the gateway.”

  “We’re developing battle tactics on our own,” Viktor said, “since it’s impossible to make plans with someone who’s not present. We figured when they showed up, we’d deploy everyone as best we could to maximize their various magical abilities. See you all soon. I need to get back upstairs.”

  Viktor scooted around them and left the room at a quick trot, the rifle tucked beneath his arm.

  Moira balanced from foot to foot to compensate for the ship’s motion. She envied Viktor, who maintained his balance seemingly without effort. “We’re late to meet the others,” she said, eying Eiocha. “Are you coming?”

  Moira was a veteran dealing with paternalistic coworkers, who thought women had no place beyond shuttling from the bedroom to the kitchen on a ball and chain. Without waiting for Eiocha to respond, she turned and left the room as briskly as she could manage given the motion of the ship.

  She was halfway up the stairs, clinging to the railings, when she felt the goddess’s energy behind her. In a way, she felt sorry for Eiocha, transplanted into a world she didn’t understand, but she’d catch on.

  She had to. No choice.

  The battle was nearly upon them, and they had no space to mollycoddle anyone. Not even an ancient goddess.

  17

  Hubris

  Leif watched the interchange between Viktor, Moira, and Eiocha. Had it only been him, he’d probably have complied with the goddess’s demands, but his life spanned a time when magical beings paid homage to deities. Apart from Karin, all the land Shifters were young, still working through their first hundred years or so.

  Worry bit deep that they’d have a hell of a time forming an effective unit when they came face to face with the fissure—and its denizens. He and his pod were used to working together. All of them were past masters of many battles, whereas the land Shifters weren’t warriors. They sprang from a variety of modern disciplines, mostly in the sciences but some in the humanities like Aura with her Ph.D. in history.

  Educated, but not particularly battle-tested. The educated part boded well. At least the women could think on their feet.

  His thoughts transferred to Viktor, Juan, Recco, and Daide. Their time as Shifters was measured in months. Perhaps their ten years as Vampires would offer them a fighting edge. Absent that, all four men had mates to protect, which would help.

  Another concern intruded. If Oberon and Titania had taken the time to hunt down Eiocha, who else had they invited? When they’d said they were bringing a Fae army, Leif hadn’t batted an eye. Fae would do as their lieges instructed, but the gods were as likely to pull together as to get into a pissing contest over who was running the show.

  He thinned his lips into a line and inhaled briskly. Naught to do but move forward. He’d always been one who liked to have all his ducks lined up, but this was one instance where he’d have to abandon his need for control.

  “We have a problem,” a tinny voice blasted into his mind.

  Leif’s eyes widened in time to hear a second voice add, “Ye said to let you know."

  Eiocha, who was mostly out of the room, turned beneath the doorframe until she faced him. “And who was that?” she demanded, still using Gaelic.

  “The faeries we left near the gateway. They were supposed to build us a conduit from the mainland to our objective.”

  “Did ye hear me?” faery number one demanded.

  “Yes. What kind of problem?” he replied.

  “We almost get the passageway completed, and something blows it up. We’ve started over twice now. How much more time do we have?”

  Eiocha’s nostrils flared, reminiscent of her horse form. “What is this something? Can you identify it?” she asked, jumping into the conversation.

  “Who are ye?” the faery demanded.

  “It’s all right,” Leif reassured the faery. “It’s Eiocha. Oberon and Titania told her about—"

  “Oooh, the horse goddess,” another faery squealed.

  A chorus of excited shrieks followed.

  Eiocha smiled, looking regal and pleased. “My subjects. Not all have forgotten me. I will be right there, and I shall ensure your next passageway remains standing.”

  “Thank you, Goddess.”

  “Return as soon as you can, please,” Leif eyed Eiocha.

  She nodded. “I will do the best I can. How important is this tunnel?”

  “Very. We’d hoped to use it to transport ourselves to the gateway.”

  “But you can swim, and—”

  “Most of the land Shifters just learned to teleport. They’re clumsy, and all that magic would be a dead giveaway. No point in showing up only to have demons mow us down with magic they’ve been holding at the ready.”

  “I see. This shouldn’t take long. The fair folk are adorable, but their power has always been weak as dishwater.” Eiocha screwed her face into a thoughtful expression. “The one stealing from me, who calls herself queen of the seas, will she be at the gateway?”

  “I expect so.”

  “Good.” A feral smile turned Eiocha’s beauty into something grim and foreboding. “I have a score to settle with her.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “What did she do to you?” Eiocha raised one silver brow into a question mark.

  “Stood by while thousands of my people died. Sea people, who were ostensibly her subjects.”

  Eiocha crossed the distance between them and gripped Leif’s shoulder hard enough to hurt. “She will pay for her sins.”

  The air flashed once, a brilliant blue, and the goddess vanished.

  Leif rubbed his shoulder. He’d seen her grab him with fingers, but it felt as if she’d pounded a
hoof down on his collarbone.

  “Where are you?” one of the whales demanded.

  “Coming,” he replied and ran for the doorway. He made a quick stop at the clothes locker and zipped a parka to chin level. If they spent the next few hours outside in the howling, subzero wind, the jacket would be essential.

  He pushed through a door to find everyone gathered in small groups on the broad, open expanse of deck, but not too near the sides since spray slopped over from vicious waves.

  “Where’s Eiocha?” Moira had to scream to be heard over the roar of the wind.

  Leif gestured for all of them to come closer. Once everyone was near, he said, “The faeries put out a distress call. Something is sabotaging their tunnel-building. Eiocha went to help.”

  “Not good news about the passageway,” Ketha said.

  “We can all teleport,” Karin spoke up.

  “Not a good idea,” Leif and Lewis said almost in unison. After exchanging an amused look, Leif continued, “Too much expended magic in the same spot will be like hanging out a banner that announces our imminent arrival.”

  “Aye, we need the passageway,” Lewis concurred.

  “Do you believe Eiocha can fix the faeries’ problem?” Viktor asked.

  “She has enough magic, and the ley lines jump to her command,” Leif replied. “If anyone can do it, she can.”

  “Means we won’t be able to practice with her, but that might not be a bad thing,” Moira said.

  “She should be back quite soon,” Leif said. “We do need to practice group maneuvers, so we don’t end up hurting one another by mistake.” He glanced Viktor’s way. “Does the fact that you’re here mean you can join us?”

  Viktor nodded. “Yeah. Boris and Ted are manning the helm along with Sasha. This isn’t bad as weather goes. Arkady’s sailed through much worse.” He grinned rakishly. “And I can always teleport back to the ship if they need me.”

  “They can’t use telepathy. How will they contact you?” Leif asked.

  Viktor fished in a parka pocket and pulled out a two-way radio. “The old-fashioned way, mate.”

  “Does everyone have enough warm clothing?” Leif scanned the group. Seeing nods, he instructed, “Form groups with one sea Shifter in each. The sea Shifter will control the teleport. We’ll all come out in the sandy cove with caves. My pod knows it well, since we’ve sheltered there.”