Huntress, Black Dawn, Witchlight

by L. J. Smith

  Then Aradia gently moved her hand down to shut Sylvia’s eyes.

  Maggie clenched her teeth, but it was no use. She gasped once, and then somehow she was in the middle of sobbing violently, unable to stop it. But Delos’s arms were around her, and she buried her face in his neck, and that helped. When she got control of herself a few minutes later, she realized that in his arms she felt almost what she had in her dream, that inexpressible sense of peace and security. Of belonging, utterly.

  As long as her soulmate was alive, and they were together, she would be all right.

  Then she noticed that P.J. was pressed up against her, too, and she let go of Delos to put one arm around the small shaking body.

  “You okay, kiddo?” she whispered.

  P.J. sniffed. “Yeah. I am, now. It’s been pretty scary, but I’m glad it’s over.”

  “And you know,” Jeanne said, looking down at Sylvia with her hands on her hips, “that’s how I want to go. Taking my own way out…and totally pissing everybody off at the end.”

  Maggie glanced up, startled, and choked. Then she gurgled. Then she shook her head, and knew that her crying spell was over. “I don’t even know why I’m like this about her. She wasn’t a nice person. I wanted to kill her myself.”

  “She was a person,” Delos said.

  Which, Maggie decided, was about the best summing-up anybody could provide.

  She realized that Jeanne and Laundress and Delos were looking at her intently, and that Aradia’s face was turned her way.

  “Well?” Jeanne said. “Do you know? Which animal your brother is?”

  “Oh,” Maggie said. “I think so.”

  She looked at Delos. “Do you happen to know what the name Gavin means? For a shapeshifter? Does it mean falcon?”

  His black-lashed golden eyes met hers. “Hawk or falcon. Yes.”

  Warm pleasure filled Maggie.

  “Then I know,” she said simply. She stood up, and Delos came with her as if he belonged by her. “How can we find the falcon she had with her that first day we met? When you were out with the hunting party?”

  “It should be in the mews,” Delos said.

  A fascinated crowd gathered behind them as they went. Maggie recognized Old Mender, smiling and cackling, and Soaker, not looking frightened anymore, and Chamber-pot Emptier…

  “We really need to get you guys some new names,” she muttered. “Can you just pick one or something?”

  The big girl with the moon face and the gentle eyes smiled at her shyly. “I heard of a noble named Hortense once….”

  “That’s good,” Maggie said, after just the slightest pause. “Yeah, that’s great. I mean, comparatively.”

  They reached the mews, which was a dark little room near the stable, with perches all over the walls. The falcons were upset and distracted, and the air was full of flapping wings. They all looked alike to Maggie.

  “It would be a new bird,” Delos said. “I think maybe that one. Is the falconer here?”

  While everyone milled around looking for him, Jeanne edged close to Maggie.

  “What I want to know is how you know. How did you even know Gavin was a shapeshifter at all?”

  “I didn’t—but it was sort of logical. After all, Bern was one. They both seemed to have the same kind of senses. And Aradia said that Sylvia took care of Miles down at her apartment, and Bern and Gavin were both there. So it seemed natural that maybe she made one of them pass the curse along to Miles.”

  “But why did you figure Gavin was a falcon?”

  “I don’t know,” Maggie said slowly, “I just—well, he looked a little bit like one. Sort of thin and golden. But it was more things that happened—he got away from Delos and over to the hunting party too fast to have gone by ground. I didn’t really think about it much then, but it must have stuck at the back of my mind.”

  Jeanne gave her a narrow sideways glance. “Still doesn’t sound like enough.”

  “No—but mostly, it was that Miles just had to be a falcon. It had to be something small—Sylvia would hardly be carrying a pig or a tiger or a bear around with her up the mountain. And I saw her with a falcon that first day. It was something she could keep near her, something that she could control. Something that was an—accessory. It just all made sense.”

  Jeanne made a sound like hmph. “I still don’t think you’re a rocket scientist. I think you lucked out.”

  Maggie turned as the crowd brought a little man with a lean, shrewd face to her—Falconer. “Well, we don’t know yet,” she murmured fervently. “But I sure hope so.”

  The little man held up a bird. “This is the new one. Lady Sylvia said never to take the green band off his leg—but I’ve got a knife. Would you like to do it?”

  Maggie held her breath. She tried to keep her hand steady as she carefully cut through the emerald green leather band, but her fingers trembled.

  The leather tie fell free—and for a moment her heart stood still, because nothing happened.

  And then she saw it. The rippling change as the bird’s wings outstretched and thickened and the feathers merged and swam…and then Falconer was moving back, and a human form was taking shape….

  And then Miles was standing there, with his auburn hair shining red gold and his handsome, wicked smile.

  He gave her the thumbs-up sign.

  “Hey, I knew you would rescue me. What are little sisters for?” he said—and then Maggie was in his arms.

  It seemed a long time later that all the hugging and crying and explaining was done. The slaves—the ex-slaves, Maggie corrected herself—had begun to gather and organize themselves and make plans. Delos and Aradia had sent various messengers out of the valley.

  There were still things to be settled—months’ and years’ worth of things. And Maggie knew that life would never be the same for her again. She would never be a normal schoolgirl.

  Her brother was a shapeshifter—well, at least it was a form he could enjoy, she thought wryly. He was already talking to Jeanne about a new way of getting to the summits of mountains—with wings.

  Her soulmate was a Wild Power. Aradia had already told her what that meant. It meant that they would have to be protected by the witches and Circle Daybreak until the time of darkness came and Delos was needed, so that the Night World didn’t kill them. And even if they survived until the final battle…it was going to be a tough one.

  Plus, she herself had changed forever. She felt she owed something to the people of the valley, who were still calling her the Deliverer. She would have to try to help them adjust to the Outside world. Her fate would be intertwined with theirs all her life.

  But just now, everybody was talking about getting some food.

  “Come into the castle—all of you,” Delos said simply.

  He took Maggie’s arm and started toward it. Just then P.J. pointed to the sky, and there was an awed murmur from the crowd.

  “The sun!”

  It was true. Maggie looked up and was dazzled. In the smooth, pearly sky of the Dark Kingdom, in exactly the place where the blue fire had flashed from the earth, there was a little clearing in the clouds. The sun was shining through, chasing away the mist, turning the trees in the surrounding hills emerald green.

  And glinting off the sleek black walls of the castle like a mirror.

  A place of enchantment, Maggie thought, looking around in wonder. It really is beautiful here.

  Then she looked at the boy beside her. At his dark hair—just now extremely tousled—and his smooth fair skin, and his elegant bones. At the mouth, which was still a bit proud and willful, but was mostly vulnerable.

  And at those fearless, brilliant yellow eyes, which looked back at her as if she were the most important thing in the universe.

  “I suppose that all prophecies come true by accident,” she said slowly and thoughtfully. “From just ordinary people trying and lucking out.”

  “There is nothing ordinary about you,” Delos said, and kissed her.


  One from the land of kings long forgotten;

  One from the hearth which still holds the spark;

  One from the Day World where two eyes are watching;

  One from the twilight to be one with the dark.

  Witchlight

  For Zachary and Anna Bokulic

  CHAPTER 1

  The mall was so peaceful. There was no hint of the terrible thing that was about to happen.

  It looked like any other shopping mall in North Carolina on a Sunday afternoon in December. Modern. Brightly decorated. Crowded with customers who knew there were only ten shopping days until Christmas. Warm, despite the chilly gray skies outside. Safe.

  Not the kind of place where a monster would appear.

  Keller walked past a display of “Santa Claus Through the Ages” with all her senses alert and open. And that meant a lot of senses. The glimpses she caught of herself in darkened store windows showed a high-school-aged girl in a sleek jumpsuit, with straight black hair that fell past her hips and cool gray eyes. But she knew that anybody who watched her closely was likely to see something else—a sort of prowling grace in the way she walked and an inner glow when the gray eyes focused on anything.

  Raksha Keller didn’t look quite human. Which was hardly surprising, because she wasn’t. She was a shapeshifter, and if people looking at her got the impression of a half-tamed panther on the loose, they were getting it exactly right.

  “Okay, everybody.” Keller touched the pin on her collar, then pressed a finger to the nearly invisible receiver in her ear, trying to tune out the Christmas music that filled the mall. “Report in.”

  “Winnie here.” The voice that spoke through the receiver was light, almost lilting, but professional. “I’m over by Sears. Haven’t seen anything yet. Maybe she’s not here.”

  “Maybe,” Keller said shortly into the pin—which wasn’t a pin at all but an extremely expensive transmission device. “But she’s supposed to love shopping, and her parents said she was headed this way. It’s the best lead we’ve got. Keep looking.”

  “Nissa here.” This voice was cooler and softer, emotionless. “I’m in the parking lot, driving by the Bingham Street entrance. Nothing to report—wait.” A pause, then the ghostly voice came back with a new tension: “Keller, we’ve got trouble. A black limo just pulled up outside Brody’s. They know she’s here.”

  Keller’s stomach tightened, but she kept her voice level. “You’re sure it’s them?”

  “I’m sure. They’re getting out—a couple of vampires and…something else. A young guy, just a boy really. Maybe a shapeshifter. I don’t know for sure; he isn’t like anything I’ve seen before.” The voice was troubled, and that troubled Keller. Nissa Johnson was a vampire with a brain like the Library of Congress. Something she didn’t recognize?

  “Should I park and come help you?” Nissa asked.

  “No,” Keller said sharply. “Stay with the car; we’re going to need it for a fast getaway. Winnie and I will take care of it. Right, Winnie?”

  “Oh, right, Boss. In fact, I can take ’em all on myself; you just watch.”

  “You watch your mouth, girl.” But Keller had to fight the grim smile that was tugging at her lips. Winfrith Arlin was Nissa’s opposite—a witch and inclined to be emotional. Her odd sense of humor had lightened some black moments.

  “Both of you stay alert,” Keller said, completely serious now. “You know what’s at stake.”

  “Right, Boss.” This time, both voices were subdued.

  They did know.

  The world.

  The girl they were looking for could save the world—or destroy it. Not that she knew that…yet. Her name was Iliana Harman, and she had grown up as a human child. She didn’t realize that she had the blood of witches in her and that she was one of the four Wild Powers destined to fight against the time of darkness that was coming.

  She’s about to get quite a surprise when we tell her, Keller thought.

  That was assuming that Keller’s team got to her before the bad guys did. But they would. They had to. There was a reason they’d been chosen to come here, when every agent of Circle Daybreak in North America would have been glad to do this job.

  They were the best. It was that simple.

  They were an odd team—vampire, witch, and shapeshifter—but they were unbeatable. And Keller was only seventeen, but she already had a reputation for never losing.

  And I’m not about to blow that now, she thought, “This is it, kiddies,” she said. “No more talking until we ID the girl. Good luck.” Their transmissions were scrambled, of course, but there was no point in taking chances. The bad guys were extremely well organized.

  Doesn’t matter. We’ll still win, Keller thought, and she paused in her walking long enough really to expand her senses.

  It was like stepping into a different world. They were senses that a human couldn’t even imagine. Infrared. She saw body heat. Smell. Humans didn’t have any sense of smell, not really. Keller could distinguish Coke from Pepsi from across a room. Touch. As a panther, Keller had exquisitely sensitive hairs all over her body, especially on her face. Even in human form, she could feel things with ten times the intensity of a real human. She could feel her way in total darkness by the air pressure on her skin.

  Hearing. She could hear both higher and lower pitches than a human, and she could pinpoint an individual cough in a crowd. Sight. She had night vision like—well, like a cat’s.

  Not to mention more than five hundred muscles that she could move voluntarily.

  And just now, all her resources were attuned to finding one teenage girl in this swarming mall. Her eyes roved over faces; her ears pricked at the sound of every young voice; her nose sorted through thousands of smells for the one that would match the T-shirt she’d taken from Iliana’s room.

  Then, just as she froze, catching a whiff of something familiar, the receiver in her ear came to life.

  “Keller—I spotted her! Hallmark, second floor. But they’re here, too.”

  They’d found her first.

  Keller cursed soundlessly. Aloud, she said, “Nissa, bring the car around to the west side of the mall. Winnie, don’t do anything. I’m coming.”

  The nearest escalator was at the end of the mall. But from the map in her hand, she could see that Hallmark was directly above her on the upper level. And she couldn’t waste time.

  Keller gathered her legs under her and jumped.

  One leap, straight up. She ignored the gasps—and a few shrieks—of the people around her as she sprang. At the top of her jump, she caught the railing that fenced off the upper-level walkway. She hung for a second by her hands, then pulled herself up smoothly.

  More people were staring. Keller ignored them. They got out of her way as she headed for the Hallmark store.

  Winnie was standing with her back to the display window of the store beside it. She was short, with a froth of strawberry curls and a pixie face. Keller edged up to her, careful to keep out of the line of sight of the Hallmark.

  “What’s up?”

  “There’s three of them,” Winnie murmured in a barely audible voice. “Just like Nissa said. I saw them go in—and then I saw her. They’ve got her surrounded, but so far they’re just talking to her.” She glanced sideways at Keller with dancing green eyes. “Only three—we can take them easy.”

  “Yeah, and that’s what worries me. Why would they only send three?”

  Winnie shrugged slightly. “Maybe they’re like us—the best.”

  Keller only acknowledged that with a flicker of her eyebrows. She was edging forward centimeter by centimeter, trying to get a glimpse of the interior of the Hallmark shop between the stockings and stuffed animals in the display window.

  There. Two guys in dark clothing almost like uniforms—vampire thugs. Another guy Keller could see only as a partial silhouette through a rack of Christmas ornaments.

  And her. Iliana. The girl everybody wanted.

  She
was beautiful, almost impossibly so. Keller had seen a picture, and it had been beautiful, but now she saw that it hadn’t come within miles of conveying the real girl. She had the silvery-fair hair and violet eyes that showed her Harman blood. She also had an extraordinary delicacy of features and grace of movement that made her as pretty to watch as a white kitten on the grass. Although Keller knew she was seventeen, she seemed slight and childlike. Almost fairylike. And right now, she was listening with wide, trusting eyes to whatever the silhouette guy was saying.

  To Keller’s fury, she couldn’t make it out. He must be whispering.

  “It’s really her,” Winnie breathed from beside Keller, awed. “The Witch Child. She looks just like the legends said, just like I imagined.” Her voice turned indignant. “I can’t stand to watch them talk to her. It’s like—blasphemy.”

  “Keep your hair on,” Keller murmured, still searching with her eyes. “You witches get so emotional about your legends.”

  “Well, we should. She’s not just a Wild Power, she’s a pure soul.” Winfrith’s voice was softly awed. “She must be so wise, so gentle, so farsighted. I can’t wait to talk to her.” Her voice sharpened. “And those thugs shouldn’t be allowed to talk to her. Come on, Keller, we can take them fast. Let’s go.

  “Winnie, don’t—”

  It was too late. Winnie was already moving, heading straight into the shop without any attempt at concealment.

  Keller cursed again. But she didn’t have any choice now. “Nissa, stand by. Things are going to get exciting,” she snapped, touching her pin, and then she followed.

  Winnie was walking directly toward the little group of three guys and Iliana as Keller reached the door. The guys were looking up, instantly alert, Keller saw their faces and gathered herself for a leap.

  But it never happened. Before she could get all her muscles ready, the silhouette guy turned—and everything changed.

  Time went into slow motion. Keller saw his face clearly, as if she’d had a year to study it. He wasn’t bad-looking—quite handsome, actually. He didn’t look much older than she was, and he had clean, nicely molded features. He had a small, compact body with what looked like hard muscles under his clothes. His hair was black, shaggy but shiny, almost like fur. It fell over his forehead in an odd way, a way that looked deliberately disarrayed and was at odds with the neatness of the rest of him.