The ritual had gone on while they spoke. The king was standing in front of Rob, a copper bowl in his hands. “My brother, myself, we share a last drink under these stars,” he said.
“Yes, my brother, myself, this last night is ours under these stars.” They drank from the cup. “Let the night come,” Rob begged, the longing in his voice breaking Galen’s heart.
“Rob,” Galen called again.
“Galen?” The answer was barely there, the voice muted, distant. “I'm losing myself.”
“Hang on.”
“But I don't want to hang on. I want to be here, do this. That's the problem.”
“Try, Rob.”
“Will you ride with me?” The longing plea drifted through the bond, Rob's voice fading to almost nothing.
“No matter what, Brat, I'll be there.”
Rob's voice fell silent, but a warmth flowed through the bond.
“The night can come under these stars,” the king said, laying his hands on Rob’s shoulders.
“Let it come, my brother, myself,” Rob pleaded.
“It is here, I can rest. You can begin.” The old king sighed.
“We ride together always, my brother, myself,” Rob said.
The riders shouted out a salute, Galen joined them, his voice calling out in joy with those words. The bells started ringing and a drum was pounding, the sound like the hoof beats of the horses
“It is time,” the old king said, placing a sword in Rob’s hands.
“What the hell is happening?” Flash demanded from beside him.
“I don't know.” The ritual was changing. Galen looked across the altar at Blake, catching the shake of his head. Blake didn't know what was happening either.
“My brother, myself, my king.” Rob said, his voice radiating joy.
“My brother, myself, my king,” the other repeated.
“No, Rob,” Galen whispered, sensing disaster approaching. He saw Rob hesitate, and his brother’s eyes met his, a sideways glance, but for an instant Rob was there.
The old king stepped forward and put his hands on Rob’s shoulders. “My brother, myself, he will join you soon, he will ride with you under these stars.”
“Thank you, my brother, myself,” Rob said gently.
“The time is upon us, we sing our joy.” The dancers swirling around the altar lifted their voices to the stars. Galen heard his voice join them.
Something whispered through the bond. The ritual as it was to play out uncurling in mind. With that knowledge the sinking dread became something else. Fear, panic, terror, defeat, all combined. He wouldn't be able to stop this, he had to let it happen, even though he knew what that mean.
Rob would be lost.
“Goodbye, Brat.”
“Goodbye, Galen.”
Rob lifted the sword, the tip hovering in the air before the old king. Galen saw him hesitate as he waited for the precise moment of the Solstice. He was singing the soft chant of the Hunt, preparing them for the arrival of the king, only moments away. Rob reached out and put his hand on the king's shoulder, the king mirrored the gesture. Lifting the sword, Rob held a single note until the sound vibrated around them. The king took a step back and Rob stepped forward with a quick thrust of the blade. The sword slid into the king’s body. Rob moaned as they both dropped to their knees. Black blood was pouring from the old king’s mouth.
They knelt there, motionless, nothing moving in the clearing, time stopped for an instant. A dark mist began to flow around Rob and the king. Galen saw the horses shift and the each uisge toss their heads. He could feel Rob slipping away, the bright spark of his brother's unique spirit becoming something else. Not living, not dead. Galen felt the sickening sensation as Rob became the king. Tears flowed, unheeded, over Galen's face.
The old king disappeared, the huge black horse he'd ridden gave an keening cry, rearing up. As it came down, it changed to one of the gray steeds of the riders, walked into the ring of the other horses and waited. A rider flowed into existence beside it, fog preceding him, then rising to join the mists overhead. Rob—now the king—stood and walked to where Galen stood.
“Rob?” Galen asked, though he knew the answer.
“No more,” the king said gently.
The dancers began to move, the drum beating a heartbeat through the clearing. They danced together, riders, Fae and those that served them. The bells chimed in the night as the horses tossed their heads in celebration.
“You ride with us this night,” the king said to the each uisge. The creatures bugled happily and joined the dance. The king stepped away from Galen and surveyed the gathering. He waited until the dancers quieted, all movement stopped in anticipation. “The king is dead,” he called out.
“Long live the king.” Galen joined the shout of joy, defeat pounding through his heart.
“We will get our brothers back,” Guy said, coming up beside Galen.
“And the rest?” Galen said, trying to keep the emotion damped down.
“The feorhbealu? We will see. I fear one of our own is in their employ.”
“I know.”
“Come back here at dawn, my brother, as the last star dies and the sun rises.”
“I should stay.”
“No!” Guy snapped. “It's not safe. Go with Stephen and gather the vassals so we might fight. We will need them here as we ride in the Between World.”
“We'll be back,” Blake said as he slipped up beside them.
“Good, I must ride.” Guy nodded and stepped away as Rob—the king—signaled for the riders to mount, swung onto the huge black horse, barked a sharp order and the Hunt turned as one and followed him into the night.
Galen waited until the horses were gone, until the bond tying him to his brother was stretched to the point of breaking before he turned and walked away from the Great Altar, down the pathway towards the road.
It was dark, an enveloping dark, as Galen walked away from the bog and the lights of the fire and torches. The fog closed around him, muting sounds so the chanting and music of the ritual seemed further away than they actually were. Flash and Blake were walking behind him, whispering, but keeping their voices low, like people at a funeral, afraid sounds might make what was happening more of a reality. He had no idea how they were going to get back to the motel, no idea how to stop what was happening. The stretched quality of the bond, almost broken, was beginning to affect him, the loss starting to blur thought. That was probably part of the plan—not theirs, but whoever was working against them. He was so caught up in the swirling thoughts, in the increasing call of the Hunt he didn't notice the music.
“Galen!” Flash nudged his shoulder. “Your phone's ringing.”
“What?” Galen dug in his pocket and pulled out the phone. “Hello?”
“Where the hell are you?” Rhiannon demanded.
“I'm fine, how are you?” Galen replied.
“Galen, not funny, where are you?”
“Long Beach, Washington.”
“Yeah, I know, I'm parked beside your car, and you aren't in your room, Flash's car is here. Where are you?”
“Walking up the highway, about five miles out of town,” Galen said.
“How do I find you?”
Galen told her and broke the connection. “Rhiannon's on her way,” he told Flash and Blake when they gave him a funny look. “Knowing her, it shouldn't be long.”
“What are we going to do?” Flash blurted out, from the look on his face, Galen could tell his friend had been holding the question in as long as he could.
“We're going to stop this, get rid of the feorhbealu and get Rob back,” Galen said firmly, willing himself to believe it.
“Just like that?” Blake asked, amusement rippling through his voice.
“Yes,” Galen snapped, turning on him. “Just like that, and you're going to help. The feorhbealu will probably try and destroy the Hunt first, so your promise to Guy will be broken if you don't.”
“Back to ordering
me?”
“Yes,” Galen said softly, letting the threat hang between them. He met Blake's eyes and saw something flicker there for an instant. Now that he was more familiar with him, Galen was able to sort through the emotions and energy flowing off the Fae like a breeze shifting through the branches. It wasn't much, the softest touch of wind, but it was there, evident now that he knew what it was—Blake was far less sure than he'd been and his confidence was continuing to slip.
“But how, Galen? Did you notice that Rob's off playing horsies?” Flash asked forlornly.
“Yeah.” Galen was surprised at the emotion in his voice.
“We'll fix it,” Flash said, putting his hand on Galen's shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
“Thanks,” Galen said. “Guy said I should gather the vassals.”
“We're going to need help.” Blake nodded.
“There aren't any vassals anymore, not really,” Galen reminded him. “There's one guy in town who said he'd help. And Rhiannon's here.”
“And me,” Flash said.
“Yeah,” Galen said, trying to figure a way to keep his friend out of it.
“We will need them, and more,” Blake said. “There will be creatures that are drawn to the feorhbealu, things that walk the night, things that will happily ally themselves to the feorhbealu and help them carve a piece out of this world—even knowing they will eventually fall victim to their masters. The feorhbealu will take everything in the end.”
“Everything?” Flash asked, swallowing nervously.
“Everything,” Blake confirmed. “It's why the Fae were willing to help humans defeat them.”
“You didn't manage to defeat them, though,” Galen said bitterly.
“No, not then. They thought they had.”
Galen caught the pronoun. “They? Not we? You knew they weren't gone?”
“I hoped they weren't, actually. Once the spell failed to retrieve Robert and Guy, all I could do was wait for them to reappear and convince the serving Emrys Custodes Noctis to join the Hunt. It was the only way I could hope to free them.”
A wordless growl issued from Flash, Galen grabbed his friend's arm to stop him from attacking Blake. Flash pulled against the hold, but stopped when Galen hissed a word of warning as well. Something moved in the fog before Galen could say anything. A dark shadow slipped along the road, moving silently. As it got closer, goosebumps appeared on Galen's arm, he sensed Flash's shudder as the smell of rotting corpses drifted over them, the smell came with a wave of emotion, sickening, disgusting, like melting flesh made mobile. Galen held his breath. Whatever was out there wasn't interested in them, it moved past without a pause, disappearing into the brush, heading towards the ocean.
“It is beginning,” Blake said, breaking the silence.
“What is?” Flash growled.
“They're gathering, waiting for the feorhbealu.”
“You know, this just keeps getting better,” Flash grumbled.
Headlights appeared in the dark, heading towards them at high speed. Galen dragged Flash off the road, the next moment the lights swept over them and a truck came to a skidding stop. Rhiannon jumped out of the driver's side and walked over to Galen, pulling him into a tight embrace. A huge wave of relief washed off of her and he realized she was close to tears.
“Don't ever scare me like that,” she said, pulling away and hitting him on the chest.
“I didn't mean to,” he said gently.
“Get in the truck, the others are at the motel.”
“Others?”
“Greg and Marc,” she said with a shrug.
“Marc?” Galen asked. “Marc Nelson?”
“Yeah, he came in, mumbled something and insisted on coming to help.” She grinned her fierce almost feral grin. “I figured it was time for a council of war.”
Chapter Eighteen
Galen
Galen ended up closing his eyes for the drive back. While he was willing to face the feorhbealu and fight things like the Old One, he refused to watch as Rhiannon drove. After narrowly avoiding a drainage ditch, she pulled into the middle of the road, straddling the double yellow line, and sped up. Flash was swearing at her, Blake silent as they headed back. It was a remarkably short ride, considering the fog, and they pulled up at the motel far sooner than Galen had expected.
Greg and Marc were leaning against the building when they pulled up. Galen nodded at them and led the way upstairs. Once they were settled in the main room, he brought the others up-to-date about the feorhbealu and how they needed the Hunt. He was half tempted to leave some of it out, but Flash thought differently and told them about the attempts on Galen's life—and his own—and the champion's opposition. When he was done, there was silence in the room, Rhiannon had her hands tightly clasped, the knuckles visible as white spots on her skin. He suspected she was trying not to kill Blake. The tension in the room was tying a knot in his neck, causing a low throb of pain to beat in his head. He waited for someone to say something, but the silence dragged on.
It was suddenly too much, he needed time to think—to prepare for what he knew was coming. The fact he couldn't reach Rob, couldn't really sense him anymore, was slowly killing him. He had to get away. Without another word, he walked out, down the stairs and out to where the ravens had played and Rob had stabbed him. It was quiet, the only sound the distant murmur of the surf.
“Dad?” he said softly into the night, needing the elder Keepers.
A shimmer swirled the fog into a small vortex. “I was beginning to worry you weren't going to call,” his father said gently.
“Took your time about it, that's for sure,” Bobby said, appearing beside Parry.
“Do you know what's happening?” Galen asked.
“Some of it,” Parry said.
“How much?” Galen said wearily, trying to hide his fear and grief.
“We know about Rob, we felt his loss,” Bobby said.
“My fault, he took my place.”
“Galen,” Parry said, laying a hand on his shoulder, “you know perfectly well that trying to stop your brother once his mind's made up is like trying to stop time.”
“Yeah,” Galen said ruefully, leaning into his father and resting his head on the shimmering shoulder. “But it is my fault, if I had accepted my place after the Ritual of Swords, this wouldn't have happened, the Hunt wouldn't have found me again. Gods, I never even finished the tattoo.” The unfinished design on his arm suddenly itched. The tattoo was part of their Traditions. It'd been started when he was thirteen and left his foster family for good. He'd never finished, never added the colors that indicated he was a fully trained Keeper. “Rob has,” he said quietly. “Of course, Rob has.”
“This isn't your fault,” Bobby insisted.
“Keep saying that and I might believe it someday. I almost got Rob killed four months ago, and now this.”
“This is who we are, Custodes Noctis,” Parry said, his voice gently chiding. “You know that, Galen. You saved your brother four months ago.”
The Hunt: A Custodes Noctis Book Page 26
