Shadowlands (9781101597637)

by Malan, Violette

  “If they can Move, they will be able to use the Portals.” Hawk’s voice was icy cold.

  Part of me felt triumphant, but not in a good way.

  Fox rolled out of bed and padded away to the window in his bare feet. Swift River Current gave a satisfied groan and stretched, her hands high above her head.

  “I’d want to keep these forms just for this,” she said, rolling onto her side to face him. “When was the last time we indulged without hurting ourselves?”

  “I can’t remember,” he said, turning back to her. He reached out for the clothing he’d tossed on a nearby chair, saw his hand tremble, felt the sweat that broke out on his forehead. He glanced at River, but she hadn’t noticed. They were both sweaty anyway, they’d had quite a workout, but Fox knew there was more to it than that. He needed dra’aj and soon. Just for a moment he eyed River, wondering what would happen if he took hers. She’d fed on humans exclusively since returning from the mine where she’d spoken to Stormwolf, but would dra’aj taken from her still have the properties of human dra’aj? Or would filtering through a Person change it?

  An interesting question, he thought, but not one he needed to answer this minute. Instead, he sat down and began to pull on his clothes. River watched him from the bed.

  “What’ll we do about these scentless ones?” she said. “What’s your plan?”

  Fox’d heard that tone before, many times. Let her use it, if she felt like it. One day he’d remind her again that he was Pack Leader now. “Why? What should be done?”

  River shrugged. “They’re useless,” she pointed out. “They’re just using up the resources our prey needs.” She looked up at him. “Except that one you fed on, the young one, he got his dra’aj back somehow.” There was a hunger now in her tone that spoke to the emptiness growing in him.

  “Not all of them get more dra’aj. It looks like it’s a reward, doled out to those who obey. Which means the scentless ones are organized, there’s a Pack Leader.” Fox pulled the T-shirt on over his head. He smoothed his hands over the material, removing the wrinkles. Most of the humans he’d seen had unwrinkled clothing. He’d be interested to learn how they managed it, since there was no dra’aj in the materials themselves.

  “So should we find these leaders, then? Could there be any benefit for us?” River rolled to a sitting position, pulled her knees up to her chest.

  “Sure, if they’d tell us where they got their new dra’aj. But once we know that, we wouldn’t need them anymore.”

  “Could there be more than one source? The dra’aj you took from the young one was as human as any. They’re not pulling dra’aj from any of the People, or from the Lands.” She paused, thinking. “Though they might try.”

  Fox slipped on his shoes. “It doesn’t matter where they got it, or how they restore it. What’s important is that what they take is ours.” He stood, realizing that his thoughts had clarified. “We’ll eliminate them. Don’t let new ones live. Kill the ones who already exist.”

  “What if they ally with the Riders?”

  Fox waved this away, wrinkling his nose at the very idea. “Riders aren’t going to ally themselves with humans. They’re lesser beings.”

  He paused in the doorway to look back at River. She’d stretched out once more on the bed, reveling in her restored form. The painful thinness was gone, now that she had plenty of the human dra’aj. She was Phoenix-guided, and that explained her fieriness. She thought she was guiding him with her advice, controlling him, even; thought she was the Pack Leader’s mate. Again, Fox wondered what her dra’aj would taste like. But she was useful. Her questions and proddings helped him sort out his thoughts. He’d let her live while her usefulness continued.

  After all, her dra’aj would always be there.

  “We’ve found her, Pack Leader, the Rider’s human pet.”

  Fox looked across the table at Badger. There weren’t many patrons in the Hair of the Dog today, in the middle of the afternoon, and most of them were sitting at the outside tables. Fox’d taken the dra’aj out of a young woman seated by herself as he came into the bar. He’d have fed from the bartender, or one of the wait staff, but he’d noticed that it affected the quality of the service. That was something he needed to think about. If the Pack didn’t grow, they might want to keep some humans whole, as servants. Maybe some scentless ones, he thought, considering the one he’d interrogated. They could be kept in line with the knowledge of what could happen to them.

  He gestured, and Badger sat down across from him, setting down a yellow book with soft pages on the table between them. Badger opened the book and pushed it closer, pointing to the right-hand page. Fox’d seen these drawings before; maps the humans called them, a way to show location. Cold, scentless things, but useful and informative in their way. So far, only some of the Pack were able to make the mental leap that allowed the symbols and drawings to make sense. Their Rider allies had no problems with it, however, and Fox was certain that soon, when all the Hunt had permanent, stable forms, the ability would spread.

  “These are the three places her scent’s strongest,” Badger was saying. She tapped on the page. “Here she’s been fairly recently, with her Rider. It’s the lair of a scentless one, and others of the same kind’ve been coming and going as well.”

  Fox nodded, making note of the place. If it was some kind of a center for the scentless ones, he might find the leaders there.

  “This’s actually where we caught the guy you fed from.” Badger’s voice trembled at the thought of feeding, but she very quickly got it under control. Fox ignored it, waiting as she turned to a different page and tapped at another spot. “Her scent’s strongest here, as well as the scent of Riders, mostly a Hippogriff, old but still powerful, and the scent of gra’if.” A whine entered Badger’s voice. She cleared her throat and turned to yet another page. “Here, the girl’s only been once, but she lingered some time. There’s also the scent of a different Rider. He’s the one we told you about, the one whose scent is familiar somehow, and somehow not.”

  Fox grew still. Was that Wolf’s lair? So far, only River had recognized their former Pack Leader.

  Fox took the book and flipped the pages to the second location. “This spot, where her scent’s the strongest? Hold back from it for now. Just keep a watch on the girl’s movements. If she ever leaves the place alone, I need to know.”

  Badger nodded. “From the scents, there seems to be a lot of movement. Riders. In and out.”

  “Then you’ll be careful.” Fox turned to the first page. “Here, where the scentless ones gather. Go in, and see what’s there.”

  Badger hesitated, but finally gathered herself to speak. “There’s not that many of us, Pack Leader.”

  Fox looked up, and waited until Badger lowered her eyes. “Then maybe we’ll ask our allies to go in for us.”

  “And this last place, Pack Leader?”

  Fox turned the page back to the final spot Badger had shown him. He stared, placing his finger on the spot as if somehow that could link him to Wolf. “Leave that place for now,” he said. “Go, give the Pack my orders.”

  “At once, Pack Leader.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  IT SEEMED LIKE HOURS LATER that Alejandro and Nighthawk were still debating, pushing ideas back and forth, revisiting the same suggestions over and over. They should have been talking strategy, and they had started out making a new list of others who might help us against the Hunt, but between Naturals and Riders without gra’if, the list wasn’t getting any longer. And they were still talking.

  Nighthawk seemed to have gotten over his suspicion of Wolf. At least, that’s what I thought.

  After the horror of the Troll’s house, I’d been half hoping we’d go to our old apartment in Madrid, but the one thing both Riders agreed on was that we needed to be back in Toronto, where the Hunt was concentrating, and where Wolf had been instructed to make his headquarters. So here they were once more sitting at the dining room table. I was still too
wired to sit still for very long, so I was washing the dishes that couldn’t be put in the dishwasher. As the only one in the place who could get drunk, I was also the only one drinking soda water.

  “It is clear—and significant—that the Hunt is aware of Stormwolf,” Hawk said at one point. “But it seems from what Valory has said that they are only aware of him as a Rider. Once his presence has alerted them, they become aware of the presence of others.” He shrugged. “Still, I must ask myself, how far is he aware of them? After the encounter in which he helped me, he knew about the Hunt, is it conceivable that he would not know he was being followed? Even if he was not leading them deliberately—”

  “Which he wasn’t.” I put down the glass I was drying and leaned into the pass-through. “How many times are you going to go over this?” Though that was unfair to Alejandro; it was Hawk who kept on circling back to this point. Still, I was starting to lose my patience.

  “What is it you have against him?” I asked the Sunward Rider outright. “Why are you so sure one minute that he’s a good guy, and so sure the next that he can’t be?” Alejandro inhaled sharply, lifting his hands a few inches from the table. “What?” I said. “I was a good girl and helped out, and it’s too much for me to get some answers?”

  Hawk held up his hand, shaking his head from side to side. “You are sure, in yourself.” He tapped himself on the chest with his index finger. “I wish I could be as sure. I have seen the Hunt, many years ago, when I was young. It was then I learned to fight them, to strike and keep striking no matter what form they took; never to look them in the eye. As for Stormwolf…” Here Hawk shook his head again. “He helped me; he brought me news that gladdened my heart. What if that blinded me? What if he was playing a double game, and I did not see it?”

  I came around into the dining room and sat down next to Hawk. If I’d known him better, I’d have given him a hug. “It isn’t Wolf you distrust,” I said. “It’s yourself. You’re afraid that all these years among humans have damaged your judgment.”

  “Enough, querida,” Alejandro said. “Come, Nighthawk, the High Prince herself has passed Stormwolf as trustworthy.”

  I looked around at him. “And so do I.”

  Hawk sat still, his hands on his knees, for what felt like a long time. Finally, he stopped chewing on his lower lip and looked up. I was relieved to see the twinkle back in his eyes. “And your opinion is worth something to me.” Hawk turned to face Alejandro. “She is a Truthreader. I had forgotten that I cannot pick and choose what I would believe of what she says. It is all truth.” He took a deep breath and released it. “I am satisfied that Stormwolf is innocent of wrongdoing. The question before me is whether I return him to the High Prince, as she has asked me to do.”

  “Wolf should be here,” I said, the words out of my mouth before I had time to think. Both Riders were looking at me with identical expressions on their Sunward faces. “It’s just, what we’re talking about, what’s happening in the Shadowlands with the Hunt and the other People—about Wolf himself—this is all his business.” Both pairs of amber eyes narrowed in thought. At least they weren’t arguing. “Doesn’t he get a vote? What if he doesn’t want to go back? He needs to know what’s going on.”

  Hawk was shaking his head. “The High Prince has given me this task.”

  “She hasn’t given it to us,” I pointed out. “Alejandro and I aren’t obligated to turn him over.”

  “He may very well decide for himself to obey the High Prince’s command,” Alejandro said. “Valory is right. You cannot take that choice from him.”

  Hawk drummed the table with his fingers. “He would have to be told, in any case.” Nodding, he started getting to his feet.

  “Hang on,” I said, motioning him to sit down again. “If we all go, won’t he feel we’re ganging up on him?” As I spoke, Alejandro looked at me, his eyes narrowed in speculation, and I felt heat in my face. I could only hope Hawk wouldn’t notice. “I just mean that if I go, it’s more neutral. I can explain and then call you guys.” Or give him a chance to run, if that’s what he decided to do.

  “And if he is not there?” Alejandro knew I meant to go to the Royal York.

  I shrugged. “I’ll figure out some way to leave him a message.”

  “Take your mobile.”

  I grabbed my bag and headed out the door before either of them could think of more to discuss. I was letting myself out the back gate when Alejandro appeared next to me. Before I could say yes or no, there was a CRACK!, a moment of vertigo, and we were in a deserted back corridor of Union Station.

  “You are flushed, and your pulse is rapid. Are you well?” Without actually touching me, Alejandro tucked away a lock of hair that had escaped from my ponytail.

  He was right. I made myself slow down and take a couple of deep breaths. What was I so excited about? I was looking forward to seeing Wolf—and I admit that realization sobered me. Sure, I knew more about him than a regular girl in my situation would have known about a regular guy—but neither of us were exactly regular people.

  “Querida.” Alejandro kissed me on the forehead. “Be most careful. No one knows better than I the allure that can arise between human and Rider. But you are neither of you merely those things. And this is a very difficult time for us all.”

  “So you’re psychic now?” I don’t know how successful my smile was.

  “No. But neither am I blind.”

  We’d reached the exit doors, and I turned to face him fully. “Alejandro.” I hugged him. “Thanks. Thanks for letting me do this my way.”

  “We are fara’ip.”

  I watched him walk back into the shadows and went on with a lighter heart.

  I decided to go up to the street rather than through the underground mall to the hotel. For one thing, it was a brilliant summer day, not the dead of winter. And it wasn’t hot enough yet to need the air-conditioning of the lower levels of the city.

  As usual, Front Street was busy with taxis stopping and picking up passengers from the train station, so I walked down to the lights at the corner. I could cross more safely there, and it would also put me closer to the hotel entrance I wanted. I was dressed okay, a little wrinkled maybe, but as Alejandro always said, “My dear one, that is how you know it is linen.”

  As I stepped off the curb, the old man next to me stumbled, and without thinking I caught him by the forearm. [The hunger, the need; the prey; a beast, single-horned and cloven-hooved, acid dripping from the tip of a horn that melted away and renewed itself over and over; patchy skin, scaly hooves; a Hippogriff that caught at my heart, making me think of Alejandro; the prey; a snake with wings; a thin Asian boy, eyes wide open, pupils pinpoints; a Chimera; my brother; three more, lesser than he, all three watching; the chase, this world; one following; where’s Wolf? The girl’s touch should be doing something, what? Where’s my brother? The prey, the chase, the hunt. Our world. The Hunt.]

  It felt like my heart stopped beating, though I don’t think my expression changed. My early training saw to that. Or maybe this Hound didn’t know enough about human expression to read it. There were a couple of other people around us by then, all reaching out to help, so I was able to turn and walk away, face front, just as quickly as my high-heeled shoes would let me. Still not looking behind me, I reached the other side of the street and went directly under the portico, avoiding a black stretch limo with a chauffeur waiting by the passenger door, and walking through the doors into the Royal York.

  I walked stiff-legged across the short lobby up the wide brass-edged steps, gripped the brass handrails with numb fingers. When I reached the top, I shied away from a white alabaster Chinese lion, sitting on top of a beautiful display table with a top made of green marble three inches thick. For a moment the lion had looked like one of the shapes I had seen when the Hound touched me.

  And that made me stop, put my hand down on the cold marble of the tabletop, and lean on it, waiting for my lungs to stop shuddering as I drew in a breath, and
my knees to bend without dumping me to the ground. The floor was made up of intricate tiles, laid to look like a black-and-white lattice on a soft orange background. Beautiful. Maybe granite, maybe marble, it was hard to tell when they kept moving back and forth, approaching and receding.

  I reached into my bag and took out my mobile. Still leaning on the table, I waited while Alejandro’s number rang, willing him to pick up. This wasn’t something I wanted to leave on voice mail. Finally I heard the sound of the connection, and his voice, a little anxious, “Yes?”

  “Un perro de caza,” I whispered. “Delante del hotel.” I took a deep breath, but my heart was still pounding. “It was looking for me,” I continued, still in Spanish. “Waiting for me.”

  “Bah! I knew I should not have left you. Are you injured?” I could imagine Alejandro waving his free hand to shush Hawk. Just hearing his voice made the vise around my chest loosen.

  “No. I touched it, but it seemed very careful not to—to feed.” Something for which I was thoroughly grateful. “Something about a young Outsider, something he said to it. They left him, drained but alive.” A few more seconds and I might even have been able to say where, and what had happened to him, but the contact had been broken. I was grateful for that as well. I didn’t want to know if I was strong enough to go on touching that thing, even if it meant I could help someone else. I didn’t want to find out that I wasn’t that brave.

  “Where are you now?”

  I told him, and answered the question he was about to ask. “So far as I know, the Hound’s still outside.”

  “Do not come home alone. Stay there until I can come for you.”

  As if I needed to be told that.

  As I put my mobile away, I became aware that a woman was looking at me with concern on her face, and I straightened up and smiled at her.