Riftkeepers: Reckoning

by Carrie Whitethorne

  Lukas laughed. “No. Nothing like Vlasta. They’ll attack anything that they consider a threat. I’ve seen one tear a tree out of the ground and smash it to splinters, all because the wind blew its branches. If she hasn’t killed it by trying, she’ll have it enslaved. It’ll be at her command.”

  “Super,” she said with a sarcastic smile. “How do we handle that?”

  Lukas looked away.

  “You don’t know, do you?” she said, tugging her hand free of Callan’s and folding her arms.

  “You’ll have to kill it, Lottie,” Dane mumbled.

  “Hang on. Why am I doing the lion’s share? What’s Dagda doing other than standing around looking pretty?”

  “I’ll be masking our scents from any wyvern,” Dagda said with a steely glare. “Keeping us downwind. If that thing smells us, we’re stuffed.”

  Her anger spiked as she spat, “Oh, well then, I’ll cloak Anton, slay the dragon, fight the dark faerie, and her pet warlock, while you create a light breeze. No problem.”

  Tyrin broke first, his snigger piercing the uneasy silence that had fallen over the room. Izak was right behind him.

  “Charlotte, I will have you shielded. You will have your own. Nyja cannot break them both,” Markus said over Tyrin’s tittering. “None of us will leave you undefended. Dagda is not only there to mask scents. He is particularly good at teaming with Callan to provide a diversion should you need it. His power also compliments Tyrin, who can use his talents to simply wash our adversaries away. They could remove a human to safety in seconds, throw a wyvern off course, and hide your scent at the same time. Izak and Callan can destroy anything in their paths, strengthen your fire with their own. Dane, Lukas, Petr, and I can hide you, relocate you, strengthen your shadow. You have your dagger and pin, should you require additional power from the earth. We each have our role within the team, Charlotte. Unfortunately, you have multiple talents that, on this occasion, we require.”

  She chewed her lip uncomfortably as she processed all Markus had said; how they all fit into his team.

  Dagda stiffened as she pushed a thought his way.

  Sorry.

  He gave her a lopsided smile and said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m getting used to your tantrums.”

  “I can’t help but wonder if we’re planning all this for no reason. We don’t know that they’re there,” Charlotte said, ignoring Dagda’s quip.

  Callan cast her a sideways glance as Taran shifted in his seat.

  “Konrad and Blair are scouting as we speak and should return within the hour,” Markus informed her. “There aren’t many places they could have gone with a wyvern captive, but all things have been considered, Charlotte.”

  He waited for a response. Instead, she sulked, peering into her empty glass.

  Oi, you can sort that out.

  What?

  Your face. This is being planned around keeping you safe. Usually, we’d just go in and tear the place down. We’re being careful this time, for you. So sort your face out.

  Markus pulled a map from under his seat. Spreading it on the floor he indicated with his index finger as he explained, “This is the mountainside. The valley is narrow; easily secured, and provided you are not detected while placing the wards, should be easy for us to approach unseen.” He spread a second map on top of the first; a detailed plan of the grounds and house, and tapped two points. “The fountains are ideally positioned to give us a clear view of the front of the building. Once Anton has placed his wards to prevent any magical movement, there is no other exit, apart from the front doors. From there, Nyja will come to us.”

  “We expect a venomous exchange, Charlotte,” Petr said. “She will attempt to anger you, possibly using Callan against you. Be mindful of that when she begins weaving her web.”

  Straightening in her seat, she glanced to Callan as she asked, “How do you mean?”

  Callan cleared his throat. “Her pursuit of me was drawn out; her methods far from modest. I had stopped visiting the castle socially all together, until after you and I were married.” He looked at Dane apologetically and continued. “It cost me—all of us—our friendships as well as our working relationships. She was determined to win me. Well, not me, but a position within our court.”

  “She stalked you,” Dagda growled.

  Charlotte’s eyes widened as she pieced together the information and her own experiences, and gasped. “Callan, the restaurant. She was there, trying to get inside Zander’s head.”

  He looked at his hands, avoiding her gaze as he mumbled, “That’s why I left to take the bags home. I hoped she would follow me. Instead she stayed there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to—”

  Seething, she cut him off. “She’s absolutely mental. Sorry, Petr, but…she’s fucking nuts!”

  Petr’s brows rose as Taran chuckled and said, “Yes, she is, Charlotte. Oh, now, Petr, I can’t pretend that the prospect of gaining her as a daughter-in-law filled me with joy.”

  “Try having to raise her,” he muttered, flicking a mirthful glance at Callan.

  A short time later, Blair and Konrad returned. They filled plates and ate as they began sharing their news.

  “They have taken up residence in the summerhouse,” Konrad said, his tone grave. “I saw three wyverns. Two are dead. The poor beasts were probably tortured into submission and cracked under the pressure. The third is a young bull. He’s strong and seems to be handling his treatment well. If she breaks this one, she’s gained a powerful weapon.”

  “Anything unusual?” Markus asked.

  “No,” Blair answered. “The grounds are empty; the house quiet. If she saw us, she remained hidden. There is a small ledge above the house: concealed, sheltered, and would be ideal for you to use to place your wards,” he added, looking to Anton.

  “Will it take three of us?” Dane asked. “Charlotte will be cloaking, Anton warding, while I shield.”

  “Not comfortably,” Blair said, glancing to Charlotte. “But it should be fine for the short time you’ll be up there.”

  “When do we leave?” Konrad asked Markus.

  “Tomorrow, mid-morning. We shall visit the colony first; reassure the brood mother. She will be restless, and as such, a danger to the human population nearby. While she will be extremely unhappy, she is approachable, and I’ve always had a good relationship with her. Is that acceptable to you?”

  “Yes, whatever you require, Mark. What is the plan?”

  Markus gave a brief rundown of everything that had been discussed in their absence and said, “Does anyone have anything to add? Anything to ask?”

  Charlotte bit her lip. She had questions, but it was getting late.

  “Excellent. Well then, Taran, if you take up my study with Alayna for the day, Dursek will tend to your needs. Blair, will you be joining us?”

  “I had planned to occupy the children with training,” he said, glancing to Callan.

  “Thank you, Blair,” Callan said. “That would be helpful.”

  The meeting came to an end and everyone but Charlotte, Callan, and Dane left the room.

  “Come on then. Ask,” Dane said, pouring another drink.

  Fiddling with the stem of her glass, she frowned. “It all seems too well-planned. It won’t go so smoothly.”

  “Of course not!” he said, laughing. “It’ll go tits up and we’ll have to fight our way out. It’ll be fine, Lottie. Trust us. We’ve done this before.”

  “You’ve cornered your crazy cousin, and her pet warlock, who have a wyvern guarding their little stronghold? And won?” she asked with a sardonic smile.

  Callan huffed a short laugh and said, “No, but we’ve been in some tight spots. We know how to get out of them. We’ll all be fine.”

  “You need to stop blowing hot and cold, Callan,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t keep up. Either I can handle this, or I can’t. What do you believe?”

  He studied her for a moment, his usually expressive eyes dark and unrea
dable. “I believe that if anyone can put an end to this, Charlotte, it’s you.”

  Dane drained his glass and left his seat. “I have to go. Alayna’s going to be a wreck and I’ll have to calm Miss Stressy Knickers before we can go anywhere tomorrow.” With a nod to Callan and a smile to Charlotte, he left.

  “We’ll be okay, Mo Ghaol,” Callan murmured, kneeling at her feet.

  Sitting forward, she kissed his forehead and whispered, “I know. I won’t let her hurt you; you won’t let her get to me. We’ll be fine. What does that mean, anyway?”

  He kissed her softly and said, “My Love.”

  Her heart leaping in her chest, she kissed him again.

  Murmuring against her lips, he said, “Mo Chridhe. My heart. Mo Bheatha. My Life.”

  Twelve

  The ground was soggy beneath her boots, recent rainfall softening the mountainside. The sun was still low in the clear sky, thankfully providing some warmth as spring edged its way past winter. Turning to look at the view, her breath caught in her throat.

  “Callan, look at that,” she whispered, tugging his hand as she gazed in awe at the landscape.

  The mountain fell away in a sheer, rocky drop, sloping out gently at the foot and carpeted by rich, green grass. A woodland opened beyond, the deep green of the trees contrasting with the lake that sprawled at its edge. The water was bright blue, reflecting the perfect sky above.

  “I love it here,” he said quietly. “We’ll come for a holiday soon.”

  Turning and gazing back up the mountain, she asked, “Will they be long?”

  Dagda scuffed his boots on the ground as he sat beside Tyrin on an outcrop of rock and said, “Shouldn’t be. They’re just checking in.”

  Izak and Anton had followed them as far as the wards and waited for them to return.

  “Hopefully they won’t be torn to shreds,” Tyrin muttered, cleaning his nails with the tip of a dagger.

  “That wouldn’t happen, would it?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  Tyrin shrugged. “If she’s been abducting them, they aren’t guaranteed to trust Mark.” He pointed the dagger over his shoulder, adding, “If they take off, someone is being eaten.”

  She slid closer to Callan, resting her cheek on the cold scales of his armour. He squeezed her waist in reassurance and murmured, “They’re fine.”

  Ten minutes later, the four of them popped into view as they passed the wards. Izak and Anton followed them down and they all looked to Markus.

  “They’re certainly displeased. They’ve recently lost two of their bulls and no explanation of where the third came from,” he said sadly. “We know one of them is dead, which leaves the possibility of two to handle down there. The brood mother is prepared to kill anyone, faerie, Druid or human, who passes the wards. I agreed that it would be the best course of action, for now.”

  Callan turned to her, brushing a thumb over her cheek and kissed her. “I’ll see you down there. Keep that cloak up until you can take my hand,” he murmured against her lips.

  Her throat felt tight. Unable to speak, she nodded and looked away.

  He moved to stand between Lukas and Markus and she walked slowly to Dane. Positioned in a rough circle, they looked tense.

  “Be careful,” she said as Dane took her hand and she extended her cloak.

  ‘Small ledge.’ Where was Blair looking?

  With his hand in the small of her back, Dane pressed her hard into what had turned out to be a cliff face. The reassuring pressure made her sigh with relief.

  Don’t look down. Close your eyes and keep the cloak up. Anton, keep this area clear of wards so I can get her out.

  I don’t need to look. I can feel my heel hanging over the edge of this ‘ledge’.

  She took the advice, keeping her eyes squeezed shut as her fingers gripped the small fissures in the rock. They must be very high up, she realised, as wind whipped at her.

  Dane, please tell me we’re nearly done.

  Are you feeling tired?

  No, I’m feeling vertigo.

  Five more minutes. Sing a song.

  I can’t sing.

  It’s in your head! Everyone can sing in their own head.

  Pressing her forehead into the cold rock, she began to sing silently to herself. Halfway through a second song, Dane slid his hand around to her waist and gave a gentle squeeze.

  Thank you.

  She sighed as they disappeared and joined Callan and Markus.

  Her eyes instantly found the mountain, searching for the ledge they’d been working on. The only possible location was so high up, her stomach turned as she thought of how precariously they’d perched there.

  Bringing her gaze down to the grounds, she realised they were out in the open, completely exposed, standing before a huge fountain. Made from copper, she assumed, the metalwork had turned green with exposure to the elements. The discolouration enhanced the majesty of the perfectly sculpted wyvern that towered over her; its mouth open to the sky where the water would have flowed, had it been working.

  Taking Callan’s hand, she dropped her cloak. He squeezed then let go, drawing his sword. Looking over to Petr and his group, she saw they’d all done the same. A look to Dane showed him with a sword of his own.

  Thought you used axes?

  I did, that day. I thought I’d bring out the heirloom sword today. Piss her off a bit.

  What is it?

  Bone tipped with silver.

  Course it is. What’s a Lord of the Underworld without a bloody bone sword?

  Want to know what type of bone?

  No, thank you. Creepy freak.

  Callan gave her a quizzical look and she pushed a thought in answer.

  His creepy sword.

  Callan smiled, huffing a quiet laugh, and gave her a brief nod of understanding. Dane smirked and tipped his chin towards Markus as everyone shifted. Markus and Petr were walking through the space between the fountains, meeting in the middle. Her eyes travelled beyond them, to the overgrown lawn that sprawled from the house, where three wyverns lay slaughtered. She allowed herself the smallest sigh of relief that, however sad it was that Nyja has destroyed the creatures, she wouldn’t have to deal with one.

  Callan tensed beside her and she looked away from the wyverns, and up towards the house. House was a modest description. Carved into the mountain itself, towering glass windows fronted the place. The huge glass doors were thrown wide open, Nyja and Robert watching them from the top of the sweeping stone staircase that led down to the gardens.

  Markus cocked his head and waited for her to descend. Only when her foot left the bottom step did he speak.

  “Nyja, it’s time to come home.”

  Walking towards them, she sniggered and replied, “Dearest Uncle. What would I be coming home to? Incarceration? Slaughter? Something worse?” She arched a brow as she stopped a few feet away and looked him over slowly. “No, Markus, I won’t be going anywhere with you.”

  “Nyja, please,” Petr said, his voice taut. “This has gone on quite long enough.”

  “I see you brought the pet human,” she said, ignoring him, turning her head to the warlock. “It’s odd, Robert. She bears absolutely no resemblance to you. Are you certain she’s yours?” She pursed her lips, waiting for one of them to react. His eyes flicked from Nyja to Charlotte and widened ever so slightly.

  He’s trying to warn us, Markus.

  He gave no sign of acknowledgement.

  “She’s no one’s pet, Nyja. Look closer,” Dane growled.

  Nyja looked Dane over, noticing his sword and a shadow passed over her violet eyes. Looking to Charlotte, her mouth twisted in a snarl as her gaze settled on the high neck of her wyvern tunic. “Her? Markus, I know your standards are low,” she said bitterly, flicking her hand towards Izak and Tyrin, “but a human? That little whore?”

  Charlotte’s eyes hadn’t left Robert’s. They flicked to Nyja again as Markus spoke.

  “I took the notion from you, Nyja. If, of all o
f us, you are happy to have a human at your right hand, I can surely stomach one of them on my council.”

  He’s goading her. That isn’t what he believes.

  I know. Look at Robert. Something’s up.

  Petr crossed the few feet between them, holding out his hand to stroke her cheek. “Please, come home,” he said.

  She leaned her face into his palm and closed her eyes. With a sigh, she straightened and said, “No, Father. Not with you. I fully intend to return to Houska. As its ruler. Not a meek member of Markus’ flock.”

  Before any of them could react, Petr went rigid, then limp, and collapsed to the ground, his head bent at an odd angle.

  Oh fuck! She’s snapped his neck! Where was his shield?

  Several things happened at once. The most terrifying was the growl that came from Markus as darkness, so complete, leaked from him as he fought to contain his rage. Charlotte stifled a whimper as terror filled her.

  He’s on my side. I mustn’t fear him.

  Dane and Lukas flanked him, the same, inky black covering them like a shroud, their swords angled towards Nyja’s chest. Thunder cracked above as deep purple clouds formed over the valley, lightning illuminating the now dark skies. Rain began to fall. The drops too large and heavy to be natural as Charlotte risked a glance to Tyrin.

  Callan had angled himself slightly between Nyja and Charlotte, his sword aflame. She couldn’t see Dagda, but felt his wind whipping up as Konrad let out a shriek from above.

  Someone else is going to get hurt…no one was supposed to die!

  I have to stop this.

  Stepping around Callan, Charlotte said, “All of this because he turned you down, Nyja? Are you really that desperate?”

  Callan said nothing, falling into step behind her.

  Nyja laughed, a high, ringing sound that grated on every one of her nerves. Ignoring her, Charlotte looked back to Robert as he shifted from one foot to the other, looking nervous.

  “And now you’ve killed the one person who ever really loved you.” She shook her head, giving Nyja a sad smile. “I don’t know, Nyja. You’re incredibly fucked up.”