Belladonna e-2

by Anne Bishop

  Throughout the telling, Sebastian never moved. Just watched him with unnerving intensity.

  “So that’s how I ended up with the Merry Makers, and they decided to let you decide,” Michael said. He tossed back the glass of whiskey and poured himself another to fight the chill that was back in his bones.

  Sebastian picked up his glass of whiskey and sat back. “You don’t know the incubi and succubi, but you’re familiar with the Merry Makers?”

  Michael nodded. “Ran into them once before, in the early days of my wandering. They liked my music, so they let me go.”

  “Are there any other demons in your landscapes?”

  “In my country, you mean?”

  Sebastian tipped his head, as if considering. “A person’s landscapes can hold many places, so I have a feeling we aren’t talking about the same things. But we’ll go with your way of looking at the world—for now.”

  Michael frowned. “What country is this?”

  “This landscape is the Den of Iniquity.”

  He huffed in frustration. “But it has to connect to something!”

  “It has borders with the Merry Makers’ landscape, as well as the waterhorses’ and the bull demons’. There are stationary bridges to several daylight landscapes.”

  Michael braced his head in his hands. “One of us has a brain fever.”

  “No, one of us has spent his life in the part of Ephemera that was shattered the most during the battle between the Guides of the Heart and the Eater of the World. And the other has probably moved through landscapes all his life without realizing it.”

  He stared at the table. At some point the dishes had been cleared away, but he couldn’t remember who had done it or when. His mind went blank, and in that moment of restful emptiness the things he’d seen recently, the things he’d said, and the things he’d been told drifted through that emptiness and came together to form a new pattern.

  “This vanishing from one place and appearing in another,” he said slowly, as if feeling his way. “You don’t see anything strange about it, do you?”

  “In this part of Ephemera, you gamble with your life every time you cross a bridge,” Sebastian replied. “So, no, I don’t see anything strange about your crossing over from one place to another. At least now we know where the Eater of the World was last seen, and that’s more than we knew before.” He pushed his chair back. “Come on. You look ready to fold.”

  Michael nodded. “I could do with a bit of a wash and some sleep.”

  “You can use our room at the bordello, since Lynnea and I will be staying at the cottage. I’ll come fetch you in the morning and take you to Sanctuary.”

  “Sanctuary?”

  “The next step in your journey to answer the riddle.”

  Michael stood up, but didn’t follow Sebastian when the other man started to walk away from the courtyard. “Sebastian Justicemaker?”

  Sebastian stopped and turned to face him.

  “Do you know the answer to the riddle?” Michael asked.

  “I should,” Sebastian replied. “I’m the one who sent it out through the twilight of waking dreams.”

  His heart started beating harder, faster. “Then you know how to find Belladonna.”

  “I know how to find her. But whether or not you can find her…” Sebastian shrugged. “That’s what you’re going to find out.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Michael looked at the creatures waiting in the street, then pulled Sebastian back inside the bordello and firmly closed the door. The pushed-in faces and tufted ears made the things look like mangy but somewhat loveable critters—if a person overlooked the razor teeth, the powerful arms and upper bodies, and the curved talons that could gut a man with one swipe. And that was just the front half. The back half looked like a draft horse version of a bicycle, complete with saddlelike seat, but lacking wheels. Of course, since the things were floating above the ground, the lack of wheels wouldn’t trouble them. But it was that last detail that was a little too much for him.

  “That’s the transportation you arranged?” he asked.

  “Demon cycles,” Sebastian replied too agreeably.

  “You expect me to straddle one of those things and put the family jewels within reach of its teeth and claws?”

  Sebastian’s lips twitched as he glanced down at Michael’s groin. “Is that what you’re packing under your belt?”

  “You know what I mean. Don’t you?” He wasn’t going to make assumptions about what these people did or didn’t know. Not after having breakfast with Teaser and hearing the incubus’s ideas of how the world worked.

  “If they were interested in any organs, it would be your heart and liver, not your penis,” Sebastian said, opening the door. “Come on. You’ve got a ways to go today.”

  “Well, isn’t that just grand,” Michael muttered as he followed Sebastian.

  When he swung a leg over the demon cycle, he wished Lynnea and Sebastian had found him some broken-in hand-me-down clothes rather than these new ones that felt a little too stiff to be comfortable. Or maybe it was his feelings that were a little too stiff. He could count on one hand the times when he’d had a truly new garment in the past dozen years, and here they were giving him a whole new set of clothes. And he hadn’t done any luck-bringing on his own behalf to bring it about!

  Then he scolded himself for being ungrateful. He was a stranger from another land who had dropped in among them with a story of a lost sister and a battle with a terrible monster. Instead of running him out of town, they had given him clothes and a place to stay, had loaned him a travel pack and filled it with basic supplies, and were cleaning up his gear from its dunking in the bog so that it would be ready for him when he got back from this bit of the journey.

  If he got back from this bit of the journey.

  None of them said it, but it was there, unspoken, under everything they did say.

  He might have enjoyed the new experience of riding a demon cycle if he really believed Sebastian and Teaser’s assurance that the creatures didn’t harm the people they’d agreed to transport.

  He didn’t consider “they usually don’t eat their passengers” to be sufficient assurance. “Demon cycles are safer to ride than waterhorses” wasn’t much comfort either since the whole reason the horse-shaped demons gave humans a ride was to drown their victims.

  But if he survived this and found his way home again, he’d have a story that would buy him a meal and a bed in any inn he chose to stay at, and an always-full glass in any pub he walked into.

  When they reached an odd spot in the dirt lane, Sebastian told the demon cycles to stop, then looked at Michael. “Which way do you want to go?”

  Michael studied the land ahead as best he could in the available moonlight. The dirt lane ran straight ahead, but the odd spot was nothing more than a bump of road that formed a half loop, reconnecting to the straight lane. At the midpoint of the half loop were two boulders set far enough apart to allow a wagon to pass between them.

  “What’s the difference?” Michael asked.

  Sebastian pointed to the straight lane. “If we go on that way for another mile or so, we’ll reach the border that connects the Den to the waterhorses’ landscape.” He pointed to the half loop. “That’s a stationary bridge that leads to Aurora, which is where we have to go in order to reach Sanctuary.”

  Michael stared at Sebastian. “I’m in a part of the world that’s nowhere close to home. I know that. I can feel that. But you’re saying that a mile down the road I can pass between a couple of stones and end up within walking distance of a village I’ve stopped at once each season for the past ten years?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  He’d met some crazy people in his travels, but he’d swear by the Light that Sebastian wasn’t one of them. Which meant he could be back in Elandar, no more than a long day’s walk from Dunberry. Not that he’d go to Dunberry. Not anymore. But…

  “If I make that choice, I won
’t find Caitlin Marie, will I?” Michael asked.

  “Probably not.”

  And I’ll never find Belladonna. An unshakable certainty rang through him. If he didn’t make this journey, he would never find the woman who haunted his dreams.

  “We’ll go on to Sanctuary.”

  Sebastian nodded. “Best clear your mind of everything but the thought that you need to cross over to Aurora.”

  “Teaser said these stationary bridges only go to specific places, so you can be certain of where you end up when you cross one of them.”

  “Nothing is that certain in Ephemera,” Sebastian replied. He tapped the demon cycle on its shoulder. “We’re crossing over to Aurora.”

  “Do we need to hum a particular tune?” Michael asked.

  The demon cycles jerked to a stop, and they and Sebastian looked at him with the same quizzical expression.

  “I had to hum a note when passing between the Sentinel Stones in order to get from the Merry Makers’ bog to the Den,” Michael mumbled, feeling his face heat as Sebastian continued to stare at him. “So I just wondered.”

  “That spot between the Merry Makers’ landscapes and the Den is a border, not a boundary,” Sebastian said.

  Michael’s only response was a lift of his shoulders to indicate the explanation lacked any useful information.

  “A boundary requires a bridge,” Sebastian continued blandly. “A border is a place where two landscapes connect without need of a bridge. They’re usually marked with stones just to make it easier to find the spot.”

  “So what was the humming all about?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “They might have had a reason for you to do it, but it had nothing to do with reaching the Den.”

  “That ripe—” Michael caught himself and considered the wisdom of roundly cursing one demon in the presence of another, larger demon. That he was riding. Not to mention that the man escorting him was at least part demon. “As you say, there was probably a reason.”

  “Indeed.”

  He could hear the laughter in Sebastian’s voice. Fine. Grand. Let the ripe bastard laugh at him. Wouldn’t be the first time someone had laughed at him.

  “Aurora,” Sebastian said to the demon cycles.

  Aurora, Michael chanted silently. Aurora. We need to reach—

  Sebastian and the demon cycle passed between the stones and vanished right before his eyes.

  “Lady of Light!”

  Even though he’d done this twice now himself, seeing someone else disappear was more frightening somehow. If he’d had time, he would have jumped off the demon cycle, but they were passing between the stones before his brain could tell his body what to do.

  Then…

  “Arrgh!”

  Michael ducked his head and closed his eyes against the sudden daylight. When he could see again, he looked around—and swallowed hard.

  They weren’t in the same place anymore. Close enough by the feel of the land that, if he’d been walking a circuit back home, he might have considered the distance between the two places as a reasonable bit of travel. But nothing was reasonable in this part of the world, and it finally started to sink into his heart and brain that he was a lot farther from home than could be measured by something as simple as distance.

  “Does that still lead to the Den?” Michael asked, tipping his head to indicate the straight lane.

  Sebastian shook his head. “Follow the lane from this side and it will take you to the road that goes to the neighboring village, which can be reached without using a bridge. When the Landscaper initially altered the landscapes a few weeks ago, there was a border between Aurora and the Den. A bit unusual since one is a daylight landscape and the other is dark. But it turned out a border was a little too easy to cross, so a bridge was put in to keep the mothers in Aurora from worrying overmuch that their sons—or, worse, their daughters—would be slipping over to the Den.”

  “But some still do.”

  “Some do.”

  “If that’s a stationary bridge, why can’t all of them go the Den?”

  Sebastian smiled. “Even with a stationary bridge, you have to resonate with the landscape in order to cross over.”

  He heard the message. “You’re saying I resonate with the Den.”

  Sebastian tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Like I told you last night, no one comes to the Den by mistake. Shall we go?”

  Michael didn’t see the signal Sebastian gave the demon cycles, but as they neared a tidy cottage, the creatures swung to one side, keeping to the edge of the cleared property before heading into the woods. The cycles followed a footpath, the kind of shortcut that was made by friends and neighbors in order to reach each other’s houses instead of taking the long way around. At a fork, they followed the part that curved to the right. When the path ended, Sebastian hesitated, then swung away from the house and grounds that must have been the usual destination in order to reach another path that ran through another patch of woods.

  The demon cycles finally stopped on the edge of a clearing with a pair of stones Michael was starting to recognize as a bridge.

  “Whose house was that?” he asked.

  Sebastian dismounted and walked toward the stones, leaving Michael little choice but to follow.

  “My aunt’s,” Sebastian replied. “My cousin Lee has a cottage nearby.”

  Probably reached from the left-hand fork in the path. “And your cottage is the one near the bridge between Aurora and the Den.” When Sebastian nodded, Michael felt a pang in his heart. Family living in the same village, their homes connected by well-used paths in the woods. Distant enough for privacy, close enough for comfort. And not together out of need or duty, but because they enjoyed each other’s company. What would it be like to live that way instead of following a pattern of rootless wandering?

  “That’s a resonating bridge,” Sebastian said, pointing to the space between the stones. “Keep your mind focused on why you want to reach Sanctuary, and you should get there.”

  Michael stopped adjusting the straps of the travel pack Sebastian had loaned him. “Should?”

  “A resonating bridge can take you to any landscape that resonates with your heart.”

  “I suppose that’s a comfort,” Michael said, eyeing the stones.

  “Is it? Do you know every facet of your heart, Magician?”

  Michael shivered, suddenly comprehending the magnitude of what he was about to do and how many things could go wrong.

  The Heart of the Bog stepped closer. “You are worthy of what you seek, Magician. Remember that.” It tapped Michael’s chest above his heart. “In here.”

  The memory steadied him, even though he wasn’t sure why it should. “All right. I’m ready.”

  “On you go, then.”

  Michael waited a beat. “You’re not coming?”

  Sebastian shook his head. “You have to find Sanctuary on your own. When you cross over, you’ll see a large building nearby. That’s a guesthouse. Someone there will be able to help you take the next step.”

  Michael held out his hand. “Thank you for all you’ve done. And for the loan of the pack. I’ll get it back to you.” Somehow.

  “It’s a kindness,” Sebastian replied as he shook Michael’s hand. Then he stepped back. “Travel lightly.”

  “How do you know the Traveler’s Blessing?” Michael asked, startled.

  “It’s called Heart’s Blessing in this part of the world,” Sebastian replied. Then he smiled. “There’s hope for you yet, Magician.”

  Hope. Heart’s hope lies within Belladonna. I need to find Belladonna.

  Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, Michael walked between the stones.

  Sebastian stared at the empty space between the stones. “Guardians of the Light and Guides of the Heart, if he is who I think he is, keep him safe on this journey.”

  Turning away from the stones, he walked back to the demon cycles. “I’m going to visit my auntie, so you two should go back
to the Den.”

  He could almost feel the friction caused by bits of demon cycle brain rubbing together to spark a thought.

  “Cottage?” one of them finally said.

  “Lynnea’s still at the cottage.”

  They left him without a second thought, zooming through the woods at reckless speed in order to get to the cottage.

  Sebastian set off at a leisurely pace, enjoying the quiet of a crisp autumn morning as he followed the almost-hidden path that would take him back to his aunt Nadia’s house.

  He just hoped Lynnea wouldn’t be annoyed at him for the unexpected company. And he hoped Dalton, who had been a guard captain in Wizard City and was now working as a law enforcer in Aurora, wouldn’t have a reason to cross over to the Den and inquire about the whereabouts of missing livestock, since they both knew that if the demon cycles were responsible, missing livestock translated to thoroughly eaten livestock—although the farmer did find a hoof and the end bit of a tail the last time Dalton had felt the need to come calling. And the three demon cycles that had given him, Lynnea, and Teaser a ride to Nadia’s house on that particular occasion had rattled for days, sounding too much like bones and hooves being shaken in a metal barrel.

  Not that he’d mentioned that detail to Dalton. When a man was the Den’s Justice Maker, as well as being an incubus and wizard, he had a more flexible definition of law enforcement than the men who performed similar duties in the daylight landscapes.

  Reaching Nadia’s house, he gave the back door a perfunctory knock before he opened the door and stuck his head in the kitchen. “Anyone flying around in here?”

  No one flying, but the stranger standing near the kitchen table spun around and dropped the cup and saucer she’d been holding.

  “Who are you?” the young woman said in a shrill voice. She darted around the table to put it between them. “What do you want here?”