The Danger of Destiny

by Leigh Evans

  “Yes, I will be glad to holler,” said Mouse. “Whatever ‘holler’ means. I shall be—”

  “Just shout, kid.”

  “I can do that, Alpha.”

  Trowbridge’s strides slowed as we broached my brother, who stood in the shade provided by the rock. My brother’s arms were folded near his waist, one hand clasped over his wrist. He wore an expression of academic interest as he returned our regard. From where he stood he must have watched the whole thing go down, and he hadn’t lifted a finger to help.

  Not Lexi.

  The man wearing my brother’s face took a step forward.

  Trowbridge shook his head and pushed past him. “Buddy,” Trowbridge growled, “your wizard’s showing.”

  * * *

  My mate eased me back down on the soft patch of earth outside the mouth of the cave. “This time, I want you to stay.”

  “I don’t stay.”

  “I’m beginning to realize that.” He touched my hair. “Feeling better?”

  Yes. No. Yes.

  Mouse came hurrying around the northern end of the big rock. “I have them!” He speed-walked toward us, holding his right arm rigidly extended, probably to keep the cargo resting on his palm as far from his soft body parts as possible.

  The boy was wet, and he had a lump by the side of his temple.

  The Gatekeeper must have surprised him. I asked him if that was so, and he said yes and that when he’d seen the tracker through the ward she’d sprung on him. She’d hit him with a rock, and that was all he’d known until he woke to find the amulets on his chest.

  Trowbridge snared a chain. “Ralph, you’re with me. Merry’s going with Hedi. You want to cuddle up later, that’s fine. But right now, that’s the way it’s going.” The authority in his voice brooked no protest and Ralph offered no opposition to the plan. Trowbridge separated them without any effort. He threw the Royal Amulet over his head, then leaned forward to ease Merry carefully over mine.

  “You’ve got food in that sack of yours,” he said to Mouse. “Bring it.”

  Mouse had food? All that time when my gut was squeezing in hunger, there was food in the damn bag dangling by my knee?

  I hate Merenwyn.

  A pause followed, during which I inspected Merry for damage. She was pale, and there was mud in her crevices. Frowning, I twisted the tail of my T-shirt around my finger. I began to daub at the grime.

  I should have opened the damn sack.

  “It’s not much, Alpha. It’s only…” Mouse’s voice trailed off.

  “Your last biscuit,” Trowbridge said. “From the smell of it, it’s not very big, and not very fresh.”

  “I have nothing left but a few crumbs.”

  “Then bring me those. My mate needs to eat, and she needs to rest. And I’m going to make sure she does both before we leave this place. Got it?”

  The Alpha of Creemore was already talking to the air.

  I looked up. “I need a shrub for Merry and another for Ralph. They could do with a snack.”

  Trowbridge called, “Kid, she—”

  “I heard, Alpha!”

  Mouse’s dash to Seabiscuit was slowed by the necessity of making a wide circle around Not-Lexi, who walked toward us with the air of a man on a mission.

  Oh hell no.

  I refocused on getting Merry tied up. My hands shook. My twin didn’t own his body anymore. They were his legs but the old man’s will moved them.

  “What do you want?” Trowbridge growled.

  “It is a matter between myself and the girl.”

  “I’m no girl.” Had I ever been one? I could see Lexi’s boots and his tight pants, now sporting a small tear in one knee. Had he ever had a chance to be a boy?

  The wizard cleared his throat with an irritated cough. “The presence of the wolf is an unnecessary complication. Despite his strength, and obvious willingness to use his fists, this is not a situation where either of those qualities is useful. Destroying my book before Helzekiel has fully appropriated the contents as his own is the only vital aspect of this journey. We should not risk being apprehended before we have accomplished this task. Traveling to the castle in the company of the wolf known as the Son of Lukynae will only add unnecessary danger to a situation that is already fraught with danger. We must leave him here, inside the ward; otherwise a jinx will detect the scent of his wolf.”

  It was too much. I snapped.

  “Enough!” I cried. “Go away, Old Mage!”

  * * *

  Was that all I had to shout? “Go away, Old Mage”? Or did Lexi manage to struggle back to me on his own? Later I’d wonder about that.

  But then I didn’t think. I didn’t ponder. I simply watched, gut twisting, as my brother’s expression cleared until it was a blank canvas, devoid of any emotion. For the count of four “Mississippis” he was neither Not-Lexi nor Lexi.

  He was empty. Flat. Dead.

  Then, he blinked.

  I knew him to be my twin again.

  He stared at me for a long moment, and I got the feeling as he did that he was mentally reviewing everything that had happened when he was gone. When he spoke, his voice was pitched softly and there was not a shred of mockery to it. “Go home, Hell. Before this world marks you further in a way that—”

  “Shut up,” I whispered. “Just … shut up.”

  Trowbridge stood up, his stance protective, but Lexi’s gaze never wavered from mine. My brother said, “You need to trust me to take care of what needs to be done here.”

  “Trust you? I don’t even know who I’m talking to.”

  “I’m talking to you,” Lexi said. “I’m here now. And I’m telling you that you need to go back to Creemore. I can’t keep you safe here.”

  “When have you kept me safe?” I shook my head. “You didn’t come to my rescue last night. You didn’t jump in and help us a few minutes ago when Trowbridge and I could have used your muscle. You watched from the sidelines! Why? Why, Lexi?”

  Hope flared and died as I searched my twin’s face. “Was it because the wizard wouldn’t let you? Or because he told you not to?”

  He had no answer for me.

  I rubbed my face, suddenly exhausted beyond words. “I don’t know how much control you have over what you do anymore.” I raked my hair behind my ears and straightened. “But I can’t think about that right now. I have a job to do, and I’m going do it. And then I’m going up to Threall, where I’m going to finish what I started. You tell the wizard that I’m going to hold him to his vow.”

  And that will be enough.

  I can’t bear any more. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.

  Lexi said softly, “Spoken like a twenty-two-year-old who has never seen anything more dangerous in her life than the playground at our old school.” His tone firmed. “You do not speak for me. It is my life, my choices, and my fate. And if I decide there are benefits to this situation you have forced upon me, you will not interfere.”

  I understood then why instinct had compelled me to cross the portal from one world to another. At some intuitive level I’d known that I couldn’t trust Lexi around the one thing he’d desired above all—having his own magic. And not just any magic, but conjures and spells that would delight and terrify. Could I even trust him to destroy the book? If the Old Mage gave him a reason not to … if they played the game differently …

  My tired brain couldn’t come up with scenarios that didn’t include destroying the book, but my instinct was pinging like Trowbridge’s sonar. I couldn’t trust either farther than I could throw them.

  “It’s never been your fate,” I replied. “It’s been ours. We’ve shared final destinies from the moment we were born. We just didn’t know it.”

  My eyes filled.

  “Get the hell out of her face, Shadow,” Trowbridge growled.

  “You don’t talk to me, wolf.”

  “Make me stop.”

  Lexi tossed his chin and spread his hands wide. “So Robbie Trowbridge wants
to talk. Why don’t you tell her why you really came back to Merenwyn, Son of Lukynae?”

  Enough.

  “Trowbridge is here because he loves me,” I told Lexi flatly.

  My brother’s gaze rested on me for a contemplative moment. “Hell,” he drawled. “Do you remember the history of Lukynae?”

  “Be careful, asshole.” Trowbridge’s body coiled. “You can travel to the castle one of two ways: conscious or unconscious. Neither one makes much difference to me.”

  Lexi lifted his foot and placed it carefully on a log, then kneaded this thigh for a moment before he spoke. “The first Lukynae was a half-bred Raha’ell who turned a civil uprising into the War of the Weres. Peace only came to Merenwyn after he was betrayed by one of his own and captured. His punishment was exile to our world. Not just to Earth—but to Creemore.” He turned his arm to show me his wrist. “His blood runs through the entire Creemore pack. Trowbridge has it. You and I have it, though of course ours is diluted.”

  He dropped his arm.

  Here it comes.

  “You hurt her,” said Trowbridge in a low voice, “and I’ll beat you until there is no more you.”

  My twin’s expression hardened. “The Rahae’lls believed the Son of Lukynae would return from exile. They would know him by his blood and by his flare. And when he returns, he’ll fulfill the prophecy’s prediction.”

  “So,” I said. “I don’t see what this has to do with me. Trowbridge has already fulfilled the prediction. He came back and turned the Raha’ells into a great fighting force. The deal’s done. Prophecy fulfilled.”

  “Not by half,” said Lexi.

  I turned to my mate. “Trowbridge?”

  My mate said bleakly, “The Son of Lukynae’s light is supposed to lead the Raha’ells to the promised land.”

  “What promised land?”

  “Ours.”

  * * *

  There it was. Ever since I’d watched the Fae slaughter three Raha’ells at the shallow crossing, I knew this was coming—that ugly place in time when all forward movement paused and I was forced to examine the yawning chasm between the well-intentioned Hedi and the real Hedi.

  As gaps go, it was the crevice that led to hell.

  You see, two days ago well-intentioned Hedi thought she saw the big picture and understood how she fit in it. Talk about a two-for-one. If she saved her brother’s soul, she’d stop bad things from dripping into her world.

  Doable.

  All one needed was a match and a bit of luck.

  But then we’d gone and stumbled onto the Raha’ells and I’d been forced to watch a kid die from having a spear—a freakin’ spear—skewered through him, and my heart had had hurt so bad it had felt like a giant clam was squeezing it, and a fierce ugly red anger had stirred deep in the core of me, and that’s when my inner voice had whispered, Hey, Hedi, this is the bigger, big picture.

  And you know what my instinct had told me to do with that?

  Shut. It. Down.

  Because saving the Raha’ells had never been on my list. This world, these conflicts, this brutality, was all too big for me to fight. I was too small. Only a giant could take care of all that.

  Anyone could see that I was no giant.

  A fact further emphasized when I stepped into the trap. Since then, the real Hedi had been quietly whittling down her objectives to three basic points: Get into the castle. Get out of the castle. Get your ass home. Or, in other words, save your brother’s soul and call it quits. Let someone else kill the Black Mage. Go ahead, bad things, commence dripping. Let someone else lead an uprising of Raha’ells. I wanted to go home to Creemore.

  Stars …

  You can’t go breaking people out of holding pens—fucking holding pens—without causing an uproar. People notice that type of crap. Forget about a stealthy retreat. You’re going to have archers; you’re going to have horses; you’re going to be pursued.

  Running on foot through enemy-controlled territory. Miles of farms and villages—that’s what Trowbridge had said. Yeah, right. The average Fae wouldn’t happen to notice a pack of desperate wolves streaking for the Safe Passage.

  * * *

  “Hedi,” said Trowbridge.

  I held up a hand. I heard, rather than saw, his harsh huff in response. Well, sue me. I’m a slow, circular thinker and I was so not finished thinking.

  Say we did manage to break them out of the castle—maybe Lexi’s wizard did an abracadabra and everyone in the castle except me, Trowbridge, the Raha’ells, and Lexi fell into a brief sleep.

  Like that’s going to happen.

  As Trowbridge and his troupe of desperados still couldn’t travel through the Fae land—even my imagination can’t come up with a spell to put an entire realm to sleep—we’d be forced to retrace the detour Trowbridge and I had taken. Find the same shallow crossing and head to the safety of the mountains.

  Where we’d presumably subside eating lichen and the odd goat.

  Of course, the jinxes would follow us all to K2 … No problem. We have mud. We’d be mud-daubed desperados. Screwed the first time it rains.

  Oh shit. Oh shit.

  “Twin,” said Lexi.

  “Shut up!” I snapped, worrying my ear.

  Clearly Karma was no longer going for the belly laugh. Now she was working the ironic life lesson. Devious deity. Just when I’d finally gotten the big message—there really is no place like home—she’d snatched my ruby slippers and waltzed off with them. Come back. I want Toto, and Auntie Em, and the chance to click my heels together.

  Because Creemore never looked so good.

  You piss off someone in southern Ontario, they don’t send a hailstorm of arrows at you—they shoot nasty looks. And they don’t kill you for having the wrong blood. All right, I did get tied to the old oak tree and I was knifed, but let’s reexamine the how and why of that.

  Knox went for me because he was an asshole, looking to pin his own crime on me. And though my pack had helped chain me to the tree, they did that not because of who I was but because of what I’d done or, more pertinently, not done.

  The night I’d pushed Trowbridge into this realm, I’d told his pack that I was their Alpha-by-proxy. Had they gone to the back shed, found their spear, and skewered me with it?

  No.

  They’d fallen on their knees and accepted me. They’d found me a trailer and set it up—exactly as I’d asked them to—even though they’d have much preferred to see me installed in the Trowbridge manse. And when I’d said, “I need a cookie,” they damn well had smothered me with sweets. For months.

  During those golden days, they’d sent me invitations of all sorts, from dinners, to store openings, all the way to eighth-grade graduation events. They’d bruised their knuckles on the door to my silver trailer, searching for my advice.

  They’d waited for me to embrace their life, their pack.

  But I never had. Alphas prowl their territory, alert to any threat for their people. Not me. I’d let others handle the disputes and I’d let others worry about possible dangers. And eventually, I’d begun entirely avoiding any interaction with the wolves of my pack because—oh, the insult!—they hadn’t loved me just for being me.

  Worse—I’d refused to meet my wolf. She’d been right there, waiting for me to let her free. And that bitch was freakin’ awesome.

  As Trowbridge had said, I’d missed out on one of the best parts of me.

  And that, Hedi, is what led you to the old oak tree.

  Crap. And double crap.

  * * *

  Trowbridge’s scent touched me with questing fingers, but I backed away from it. I was on the cusp of turning the page in my own book of painful learning and if I let his essence wrap around me I was going to fold like a baby and the decision would never be mine. And I was not a know-nothing infant. Not anymore. Going, going, gone. I rubbed my ear harder, my thumb stroking it so fast it was surprising a puff of smoke didn’t erupt from its tip.

  Well, well.
r />   So here we were. Despite all my efforts in keeping my life down to me and mine, we’d arrived at the Casablanca moment. Rick’s standing on the tarmac with Ilsa, and heroic Victor’s waiting by the plane. Do the problems of three people amount to more than a hill of beans in this crazy world?

  Goddess. Big pictures suck.

  They fucking suck.

  “Hedi,” my mate said softly. “We need to talk.”

  “Can’t,” I said faintly. “Feeling a tad light-headed.”

  My brother, aka the shit-disturber, got in another shot. “Tell her what’s supposed to happen to your flare and you.”

  There’s more?

  “Shut up!” yelled Trowbridge. “I swear to God, I’ll—”

  Faster than a cobra, Lexi struck. “It’s supposed to become as bright as a blue flame, and as hot as the sun, and then, it’s supposed to explode.”

  I whipped around to face Trowbridge. “You’re going to explode?”

  “I’m not going to explode,” he said tautly.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I sat down. Or rather, my legs folded and I decided to go with it.

  “I am sorry, twin,” my brother said.

  I lifted heavy eyes. “For?”

  “He should have picked you up and carried you right back to your world. He knew you weren’t equipped for Merenwyn.”

  There was so much objectionable in all that, I didn’t know where to start.

  I fixed Lexi with a quelling stare. “I got this far.”

  Evidently, not the response my twin was hoping for.

  Lexi limped-stalked to Trowbridge, who was leaning against the rock, in a way that at first glance might have been construed as casual—arms folded over chest, hips jutting forward—but wasn’t in the least: neck tendons rigid, balance positioned for a quick takeoff. Heedless to the simmering danger, my twin shoved his face into my mate’s personal space and said accusingly, “You should have taken her home.”

  Trowbridge got points for not immediately nailing my twin. He slowly straightened from the wall and collapsed the distance between himself and my brother until his breath warmed my brother’s nose. When Trowbridge spoke it was through lips that barely moved and his tone was lethal-soft. “She’s got her heart set on saving your soul. Personally, I think they beat the good out of you and there’s nothing worth breaking into a sweat over. You should remember that when you get in my face.”