No wonder Abramelin’s men had stopped following us.
“What’s up?” Darius asked, sounding slightly winded himself. He looked from me to the trees, then back again. “Why did we stop?”
“Can’t you feel it?” Galen snapped before I could ask. “The cold?”
“Dragons burn hot, friend,” Darius grunted—clearly, he hadn’t let bygones be bygones yet with the whole vote thing. “What am I supposed to be feeling?”
“Dark magic,” I told him. He frowned down at me, then pulled me close, an arm around my shoulder, and started to rub whatever parts of me his hand could reach. It helped, though his skin felt more fiery than usual in the presence of such bleak magic. It drifted out of the woods like a dark fog, sweeping over us, both beckoning unfamiliar travelers closer and warning others to steer clear.
“We’re at the eastern entrance of the Hallowed Forest,” Quell informed us, and the name sent heated whispers throughout the group. “The portal is on the other side.”
“Hallowed Forest?” Darius continued to rub me, keeping the chill at bay. “What the hell is that? I mean, I can make deductions from the name, but—”
“You don’t know Hallowed Forest?” Galen demanded, to which my dragon scoffed, a whiff of black smoke surging from his nostrils. I slid my arm around his waist and pinched, a silent warning to watch his temper with the fae captain. Things were stressful enough as it was.
“Sorry, I’m not up to date on all the hip supernatural lingo,” Darius drawled. His voice had lost its edge, thank goodness. “No. I don’t know the name of every forest in the fucking—”
“It’s a dark forest,” I said quickly, shrugging his arm off and taking a few steps closer. From here, it appeared quite normal, but unlike the other woodland terrain we had trekked through, shadow obstructed us from seeing too deeply into the trees. Sunlight didn’t pierce the canopy—and that chill, that straight-to-the-marrow cold, was hard to ignore. I swallowed hard, stiffening when a figure darted between the trees, then vanished. “It’s said to be haunted. Full of malevolent spirits. Ghosts. Dark creatures who couldn’t find a home in Alfheim.” I turned back to the captains. “We should go around.”
“That was the original plan,” Quell said with a glare toward the sky, “but Abramelin’s goons sent us off-course.”
“Like they were herding us here,” I said, more to myself than my companions. The whispers of the militia had escalated to full-blown conversations, most of which sounded in favor of going around, not through.
“If that was Abramelin’s plan, then he succeeded,” Galen insisted, lifting his voice to quiet the others. “He wanted to put us behind and get to the portal first. We’re losing time and daylight. I say we go through.”
The uproar from the troops was the loudest yet, as we debated back-and-forth about which course to take. In the end, however, majority vote decided we’d go through the forest. I didn’t want to; Hallowed Forest had a seedy reputation that made my toes curl. But Galen was right. We were wasting valuable time. Lives were at stake. We were supernaturals, magically-gifted. We could get through it, if we stuck together and worked as a team to repel whatever might try to stop us. According to the map, it would only take a few hours to cross.
“Yeah, but it’s what the map doesn’t show that scares me,” an elf muttered to her brother, who nodded, eyes wide and bow loaded.
Darius, Catriona, and I exchanged wary looks, then hung back as Galen and Quell led the others into the woods. Taking up the rear, the three of us fanned out with Darius in the middle, and slowly made our way toward the trees.
The second I stepped past the first one, my breath fogged in front of me. Darius inhaled sharply as if feeling the forest’s chill for the first time, and Catriona was as white as a ghost.
Fantastic.
Chapter Four
“Someone remind me again why this was such a good idea?” Catriona whimpered. My eyes narrowed at the trio in front of us—an elf, a dwarf, and a dryad—who had spent the last ten minutes whispering about the horrors of Hallowed Forest. Sure, the stories creeped me out too. Did I want to turn around and run back for the safety of the outside world? Yup. But this was the path we had all agreed to take. Scaring others by sharing what could be no more than ghost stories, wasn’t going to do anyone any good.
“Just ignore them,” I told her, to which Darius grunted in agreement.
“I don’t see what the big fuss is,” he said. When both of us stared at him, our palms illuminated with a comforting soft, yellow light to help guide the way, he shrugged. “I mean, yeah, it’s cold—”
“The influence of dark, horrible magic,” I reminded him. Another shrug.
“So far, I don’t see anything to write home about.”
We’d been walking for the better part of two hours. The ground we had covered in that time could have been accomplished in forty minutes outside of Hallowed Forest, but in here, it was a whole ‘nother ball game.
The canopy was made up entirely of dead leaves threaded so tightly together that barely any sunlight seeped through, despite the fact it was the middle of summer. The usual rustle of forest wildlife was gone, save for the occasional hooting of a haggard sounding owl—or the crunch of something large stepping on the crackly underbrush. We all whirled around every time we heard it, all fae present shining their illuminated hands in the direction of the sound. Each time, we found nothing.
It was a cold, dead, haunted place. Every step felt like we were moving one foot closer to disaster. We’d had to change course twice, navigating around stinking swamps that bubbled and fog-ridden bogs that sucked boots off people’s feet. At this point, I probably couldn’t find my way back to where we had first entered the woods even if I tried. Disorienting was an understatement.
We were all on edge. Gasps, cries, and muffled shrieks were not unusual sounds coming from our militia, which Darius thought was absurd. We were all magic-wielding individuals capable of fighting off whatever was thrown at us, in theory.
But who wanted to fight ghosts and malevolent spirits?
No one. I wasn’t even sure I’d even know how, honestly. Theoretically, wouldn’t spells whizz right through them? Whatever the case may be, at no point in Hallowed Forest, did I want to find out.
Unfortunately, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck suggested I might have to roll up my sleeves and give it a go. For the last, oh, fifteen minutes or so, I’d felt someone staring right through my back. That eerie sense of being watched had haunted me from the second I set foot in the forest, but now the fear had ramped up a notch—someone was definitely out there.
Keeping one illuminated palm raised, I stole a peek over my shoulder. Darkness and deformed, twisted trees stared back. The feeling, however, of two holes burning into me from behind, wouldn’t go away. It only got worse. At the sound of something cracking, I whirled around and expelled a panic-induced hex. The flash of green slammed into a tree, burning a hole straight through it.
The whole forest seemed to groan in response, a blast of frigid wind rushed over us, first from the left, then the right—like the charge of an unseen cavalry cutting down the enemy.
“Hey, keep it together,” Darius snapped. Although he was facing me, I noted the way his gaze darted around, as if checking things out for himself before getting too far into his lecture. When nothing presented itself, nothing but the creepy feeling of being watched, he pinned his glare back on me. “I am not fighting a bunch of pissed off trees, Kaye.”
I withheld my snort. Like Ents would ever live in Hallowed Forest.
“Something is watching me,” I hissed, slowly, as quietly as I could, so as to not alarm Catriona. “I can feel it.”
“Yeah, well, apparently, the trees have eyes,” he said, gesturing half-heartedly toward the three storytellers in front of us. “Just try to ignore it.”
I huffed, wishing he’d just have my back like always. “Darius, can you, for two seconds, just try to—”
�
��Company halt!”
The argument stopped at the sound of Quell’s order from the front, and we closed the gap between us. I wanted to hurry up to the fae captains to see what the problem was—this was my company, after all, and I should be issuing the order to halt—but I got my answer soon enough.
“Defensive formation,” Galen ordered. “Movement in the trees!”
I shot Darius a told you so look with lips pursed, to which he rolled his eyes, apparently nonplussed by the fact that we were about to be attacked. As we tightened up the spaces, falling in line with other supernaturals in the militia, all our backs to each other, gazes turned outward to the forest, I finally heard it: the roar of a gargoyle. Frowning, I slowly looked up to the dead canopied nest obstructing our view of the sky, for that was where the sound was coming from. A few more roars answered, then the leaves rustled as if struck by a strong gust of wind.
They were tracking us through the forest. Flying overhead. Apparently, it wasn’t enough that Abramelin’s army forced us into this decrepit place, but now they were in pursuit to make sure something gobbled us up along the way. I squared my shoulders, jaw clenched, and briefly entertained the idea of shooting a few hexes up through the leaves. I might even hit something.
But then again, I’d probably pissed off the forest enough with that last hex. Out of the corner of my eye, something dark darted between the trees, and I beckoned a brighter illumination orb to my palms, trying to catch the creature in the light. Somewhere to my far left, a skittering of feet through the rough underbrush snagged my attention, and Catriona shot her bundle of illuminated white light out into the forest, guiding it with a crooked finger as a witch might use a wand. The orb managed to cast light on something humanoid-shaped. Whatever it was crept back behind the tree trunk, its fingers long and lithe.
“Do we attack?” Hellas, a dwarf who generally said nothing and acknowledged no one, demanded with a growl. He had an axe in hand, poised and ready. I shook my head and lifted a hand to both still and silence him.
“Wait…”
Darius hissed my name as I took a few steps toward the hiding creature. Anxiety prickled through me, as I felt the eyes of the troops on my back, and my hands hummed with unused magic as I crouched down and peered around the trunk. The creature shifted back—as if in fright.
“Hello,” I whispered. To make my intentions clear, I surrounded myself with an aura of white magic, which would act as both a shield and a welcoming beacon to potential allies in equal measures. One had to prepare for both possibilities, after all. “I’m not going to hurt you…”
A hush descended over the group as we waited, watching, prepared to deflect should the creature pounce. Almost two full minutes later, my knees aching and legs quivering, a young nymph poked her head out from behind the trunk, eyes wide and a little watery. Her skin, a pastel purple, appeared pale and forlorn; the Hallowed Forest was no place for a blessed being like her. She ought to be in Alfheim, bathing in a spring and surrounded by a meadow of forever blooming flowers. Her hair, a darker, more royal purple, appeared both rats-nested and flat, if that was possible, as she slowly crawled out from behind her hiding place.
“Stand down,” I called, easing back on my heels. “Friendly supernatural, er, present.”
I lifted my illuminated palms, just as Catriona padded to my side. Together, we lit up a good twenty feet of woodlands, and my jaw dropped as more nymphs slowly, hesitantly, exposed themselves from their hiding places behind the trees. Among them were a few druids, their faces and torsos painted with teal war paint in the old Celtic fashion, along with a few elves and dryads. While most looked haggard, no one appeared hurt. A few even smiled. Besides a few spears crafted from tree branches, they appeared weaponless—though certainly not magicless. While the forest was cold, the feel of these creatures was like the first warm breeze of spring.
Refreshing and comforting.
Slowly, I stood, not wanting to frighten them away with any sudden movements. My fae captains flocked to my side, encouraging me to make first contact, to ask for supplies, to extend an invitation to fight. I felt as though I could breathe a little easier in Hallowed Forest for the first time all day.
“Oh, thank you, that looks…” I schooled my features when something slithered through my bowl of soup—something distinctly tadpole-shaped. The druid continued spooning more of the milky-gray broth into my second bowl, though this time only a few root vegetables bobbed to the surface. When he straightened up and offered a shy smile, I forced one back. “Smells delicious. Thank you.”
I stepped out of line and away from the cooking fire, over which a black cauldron filled with bubbling dinner hung. Not only was there something definitely alive in there, but the smell made me think the cooks had thrown every spice known to man into the mix. A quick glance around the campsite told me that most of the militia were forcing it down, spoonful by painful spoonful. Some were better at hiding their horror than the others. Galen actually tossed his into the woods and opted for a loaf of elvish bread instead, chewy grains and all.
No one said a word, however, to our hosts. After all, the small band of nymphs, druids, and a few odd elves had pulled us from our wandering and guided us through the bulk of Hallowed Forest. When it became clear that most of us needed to rest, the small population hiding out from Abramelin’s bloodlust threw together a makeshift campsite in ten minutes, one that looked like it had been running for months, and got to work on making us dinner. Questionable dinner, sure, but it would be rude to refuse a hot meal.
I grimaced when the black tadpole thing wriggled through one of the bowl’s brothy innards again. Darius could have that one. He’d probably enjoy the extra protein.
I found my dragon seated at the far edge of the camp, near the shimmering white magic wards the fairies of the group had erected earlier. Sitting on a log, he appeared to be fiddling with some twigs and dead branches, tossing them at the ward every so often and smirking when they disintegrated.
We’d beefed up our white magic with a few more dangerous spells, but you could never be too cautious with Abramelin’s men flying around. Thus far, none had dared to enter the Hallowed Forest, and while the whole place was creepy as hell, it acted as a great buffer between us and them. With the nymphs and druids as our guides, we’d make good time to the portal at first light tomorrow.
At the crunch of ground under my feet, Darius looked up, dropping whatever he was playing with and wiping his hands on his pants. Nearby, Catriona sat at the base of a tree with a gaggle of nymphs braiding her hair. They’d been obsessed with its bleached, yet all natural, white appearance, since we met them. Apparently, they had been itching to get their hands on it. Catriona and I exchanged a quick look as I passed, and when she didn’t silently beg for my assistance, seeming perfectly content with all the attention, I kept on walking.
“What’s this?” Darius asked as I settled beside him on the log. One-half was rotted, so I scooted closer than I wanted to in front of the troops—then realized no one was watching, or probably cared if Darius and I sat beside each other. Maybe if I crawled onto his lap, we would get some attention.
Not happening.
“Dinner,” I told him, stuffing the bowl with the slithering thing into his hands. “Freshly made and local, straight from Hallowed Forest—”
“Is something moving in there?” He squinted and brought the bowl up to his face, then pulled it away with a grimace. “What the hell is that smell?”
“Herbs,” I said innocently. “Just eat it.”
He peered into my bowl, body brushing up against mine. I swallowed hard and tried not to take a big whiff of his natural scent, something I’d come to realize was better than any high-end cologne out there.
“Why isn’t there anything moving in yours?”
“Lucked out, I guess.”
“Kaye.”
“Stop whining and just eat it.”
“Switch bowls.”
“No.”
“Kaye.”
I brought mine to my lips, tasting oak immediately, like the nymphs had carved it while the stew was cooking, then slurped the broth down noisily. The taste… Well, it could be worse. Woodsy. Let’s go with that. Darius exhaled noisily beside me, some blend of an annoyed sigh and a chuckle.
“You think I won’t take it from you just because you put your mouth on it?”
“That’s the plan,” I told him with a grin.
“Pretty sure we’ve sucked face a few times already,” he noted, picking through his broth with his fingers. I uttered an embarrassing squeak when he pulled a wriggling black thing out and tossed it against the ward. It shriveled up and disappeared in an instant. When I faced him again, he smirked at me triumphantly. “Face sucking means your mouth doesn’t scare me anymore.”
“Well, it should. You have no idea what I can do with this thing.”
“Not gonna lie.” He took a noisy slurp himself, then gave a hum of contentment—like he actually enjoyed it. “I’m pretty excited to see what else that mouth of yours can do.”
Chapter Five
That usual rush of desire prickled through me—the same thing that happened every time Darius said something even mildly suggestive. A few weeks ago, I would have been all over that. Hell, I knew we both remembered a time where I was trying to get that sweet ass of his into my bed. Things were different now. There were… feelings involved now, and somehow that made all his flirtations affect me like I was a pre-teen experiencing the attentions of the opposite sex for the first time.
“Ugh, don’t be gross,” was my very mature response, which earned me a snort from my dragon. I returned to my dinner with a silly grin, cheeks warmed with a not entirely, all that embarrassed, blush. When I spared a look in his direction, I found him studying me with a sexy little smirk of his own, and I made sure he saw when I rolled my eyes. “Stop it.”
Magic Burn: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Shifting Magic Book 2) Page 4
