by Hazel Hunter
She eyed him suspiciously.
“Do you really want to know, or are you just curious to see how deep this particular hole in my head goes?”
His grin was brief.
“The more information I have, the better,” he said. “By all means.”
Gillian relaxed fractionally. Without thinking about it, she reached into her pocket, where Max nibbled on her gloved fingers encouragingly.
“Tenebris is a story, that is true. But once upon a time there was a boy who was fascinated with the stories of the Iliad and the Odyssey. As he grew older, he became obsessed with the idea of discovering the ancient foundation of Troy, the site of the Trojan war. He researched, he searched, and he paid a lot of people a lot of money to help him. In the end, he found the ruins of the city, and deep beneath the rubble, he found evidence of a great fire, just the event that brought the historical city of Troy down.”
“And you see yourself in this man?” Shayne’s voice was skeptical, but at least he was listening.
Gillian shook her head.
“He blew through seven layers of archaeologically important cities to get to the one he wanted. I like to think that I’m a lot more careful. But when I first heard the myths about the Hollow City, I was enthralled. I needed to know more, and after that, I couldn’t let it be.”
Shayne made an exasperated sound. “A magical city founded by ancient Wiccans. I’ve heard the stories too, Granger, and what I remember is that it sounded like it was straight out of Lord of the Rings.”
Gillian permitted herself a small smile.
“You have to go looking hard for the truth sometimes,” she admitted. “I don’t believe that there is a city of flying cars and towers that can hide itself by sinking into the ground. However, stories of women riding the clouds and of men turning into panthers and wolves? Well, I know more than one witch that can fly, and I think everyone knows a shape-shifter. There’s something at the heart of those stories. I know there is.”
Shayne looked speculative.
“And what exactly is it that you expect to find?” he asked finally. “Are you hoping to find some kind of magic or advanced ancient technology that will make you rich? Some trove of treasure?”
At that, Gillian laughed. Vlasti, perched on the back of Shayne’s seat, ruffled his feathers before calming again.
“Now who’s been reading too many pulp novels?” she said. “You make me sound like Lara Croft or Indiana Jones. No. I’m not after something that’s going to make me rich or famous. I suspect that whatever’s left of Tenebris, whatever remnants those people left behind, it won’t be the great gifts that they tried to share with the world.”
“And what do you think is going to be left?”
“Honestly? Not much. But there will be something that is left behind. Through that, we’re going to learn more about the ancient inhabitants, and we’re going to know more about ourselves.”
Shayne shook his head, his expression halfway between amused and tolerant.
“So we’re going to head across the world to Port Ilya, and from there, we’re going to travel across the ocean just so we can start your quest for a place that most scholars assume doesn’t exist. Am I right so far?”
“I take exception to the idea that most scholars assume it doesn’t exist. I would say at least half give grudging credence to the fact that something like Tenebris once stood. But they are at a loss as to where it was or, even in some cases, what it was.”
Shayne looked amused, but his next question was pointed.
“So what do you want with it?” he asked.
Gillian hesitated. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him what she had told Marceline. Tenebris fascinated her with an allure that bordered on obsession. It was a chance to claim a piece of missing Wiccan history. More than that, it was a chance to prove her worth.
“It will tell me where I came from,” she said instead. “It will tell me about this…this world I’ve fallen into, and how I fit into it.”
“You fit into it by being you,” Shayne observed. “The Wiccan world isn’t some kind of monolith where you need to be just like everyone else, Granger. It’s a place with space to be who you are. We live long enough that we change from year to year, from century to century. You don’t have to win your place or anything like that by doing something like finding Tenebris.”
She shook her head, ignoring the old feelings welling up inside. She could have put him off with a canned response, but instead, to her surprise, she was truthful.
“Maybe that’s what you think,” she retorted. “But not for me. I’ve only been awakened for a few years. It’s the blink of an eye for someone like Marceline or Nebpu. They look at me and they see someone who is just beginning. It might be centuries before they recognize me as a part of their world, and I…I can’t wait.”
Shayne’s gaze was slightly troubled.
“That’s not how it works,” he said. “We’re Wiccans, and there aren’t that many of us. We can’t afford to simply wait centuries before we truly welcome people into our ranks. If you’re Wiccan, you’re Wiccan. If you are a witch or a warlock, there is a community that is open to you, that wants to support you.”
“I don’t believe that,” Gillian said flatly. “I’ve not shown my worth yet. I will, though. When I find Tenebris, I will.”
“I awakened almost a thousand years ago. Men, at least the men I knew, were little more than beasts in some ways. We fought for rank. We fought for food. We fought simply to prove that we were still alive. That changed when I fell in bed with a young woman in the Holy Land. I woke up able to throw fire. Not long after that John Lancaster, an English knight, found me. He pulled me away from the hovel I’d been living in. He cleaned me up, and he told me that I needed to get right with the world because I was Wiccan. That meant that I had a world waiting for me, and I should try to be worthy of it.”
Gillian nodded. “See? You needed to earn your place, just as I said.”
“And what I needed to do to earn my place was to quit being a wine bag that was getting tossed out of every brothel on the Mediterranean coast,” Shayne said with a grin. “I needed to learn how to use my powers so I wouldn’t hurt myself. I needed to learn about the world I lived in, and I needed to learn how to protect myself. Even if you look closely, you will see no indication that I had to go find a lost and mythical city to prove myself to the Wiccan world at large.”
Gillian glared at him. “You’re making fun of me.”
“But I’m telling you the truth.”
To Gillian’s astonishment, he swung into the seat next to her. With the aisle between them, she had been able to talk with him. He was a person with annoying views with whom she could argue. But when he was this close, he was that man on the train. She could feel the heat of his body, smell the faintly spicy smell of his aftershave and the deeper scent of skin underneath it. She felt a soft warmth rise to her cheeks, and she leaned back.
“This isn’t some kind of carnival ride, Granger. It’s who and what you are. You don’t have to earn it, I promise you. If Marceline or any other coven master told you that, well, I want to know about it. The Magus Corps takes a pretty poor view of such things.”
“The Magus Corps? You mean the organization that is on the verge of wanting you kicked out?”
Her words were perhaps sharper than she intended them to be, but they did the trick. They startled him into shifting back a little. Shayne scowled.
“The Magus Corps is an ancient organization,” he said finally. “Sometimes, I don’t agree with the way they do things. It may or may not have caused some conflict.”
“And it may or may not have landed you on a mission to follow a loony around the world?”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
To Gillian’s shock, she felt Shayne wrap his hand around hers. Even wearing the gloves, it created a moment of panic in her. She reacted immediately. She pushed his hand away from her, pushing herself back aga
inst the window of the plane behind her.
“No!”
Shayne immediately stepped back into the aisle, hands up to show her that he meant no harm. His eyes were wide, but his expression was calm.
“All right. I’m not going to touch you, and I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t do anything foolish, all right?”
Gillian took a deep breath, and then another. She nodded.
“I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “Sometimes… Well… I never like it when people touch me without warning.”
Shayne tilted his head to one side, gazing at her inquisitively. For a moment, she thought that he was going to ask her what she meant and why she was that way. Instead, he nodded.
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I shouldn’t have taken liberties like that without your permission. I’ll be more mindful in the future, all right?”
There was no sign of deceit on his face, and she finally nodded. When he was back in his own seat, she could breathe a little more normally.
“What are some of the other things I should know about you?” Shayne asked after a moment. “Any other things I should keep in mind?”
Without thinking about it, Gillian squeezed her hands together tightly.
“No,” she said. Even she wouldn’t have believed it if she had heard it.
For a moment, Shayne looked like he was going to ask more, but then he shrugged.
“As you like,” he said, his tone slightly cool. “The more you tell me, the better I am able to do my job.”
Gillian nodded tightly. “I understand that.”
• • • • •
They had sat in silence for an hour. But Gillian found the view out the window calming. Currently they were passing over the mountains. The pilot had let them know she was altering course in order to avoid some heavy weather. It would likely still be a few hours yet before they would see the coast. Now that they were quiet again, she could feel that same anticipation come over her. It felt as if Tenebris was close. She could see the towers and the deep wells, the plazas and the gardens. Even if there was only a foundation left, it would be enough.
She was rocked out of her reverie by a whistling roar. At first she thought it must simply be the noise of the small jet, but then she realized that it was only growing louder. Through the window beyond the wing was a smoke trail that was rapidly growing closer.
Another plane?
An orange explosion blossomed less than ten feet from the wing. The plane rocked violently, tossing Gillian like a toy towards the aisle. She might have hurt herself badly, but Shayne was there, dragging her upright.
“What in the–?”
They could hear shouting from the pilot, fighting with her controls. When they rushed to the front, they found her gripping the yoke with one hand and punching buttons on a display that was blinking and crackling.
“Bastards sent up an EMP along with the ground-to-air missile,” she said. “The sensors are dead.”
“What does that mean?” Gillian cried.
“It means that you’re going to bail out. We’ve just crossed the coast of Iceland.”
The pilot’s voice was alarmingly calm, and Gillian felt Shayne stiffen by her side.
“You mean all three of us are going to bail out.”
The pilot didn’t spare him a look, but twisted some knobs on the instrument panel. She shoved the throttles forward, and Gillian heard the engines whine.
“Not likely,” the pilot said, her voice strained. “This is my plane and damned if I’m going to let it get shot out of the sky. I can bail out a lot later if I need to. But you’ve got to go now, in case I’m wrong.” Gillian opened her mouth to argue, but the pilot cut her off. “Whoever it is, I don’t know who they’re after,” the pilot continued. “It might be you, or it might just be that Templars have figured out this is a Wiccan plane. If one of us gets to help, they can send back others.”
Gillian bit her lip, but Shayne made the decision for both of them.
“Got it,” he said, meeting the pilot’s gaze. “Mother winds keep you.”
He pushed Gillian back towards the cabin. She rushed back to her seat where her things were. The really important things were in the backpack. There was no time for anything else. She felt the plane shudder as it lost altitude.
“Do you know how to use one of these?”
Shayne held up a khaki parachute. She shook her head fearfully.
“When do I pull the cord?” she asked, trying to get up her nerve. She had never been fond of heights, and the idea of jumping out of a plane made her stomach drop.
Shayne studied her for a moment, and then to her disbelief, he smiled. It was completely out of place, and yet something about it buoyed her.
“You don’t. Come here.” From a veritable rat’s nest of cords and strapping, he pulled out a harness. “Come here. We need to get close, and I’m really sorry about this given our last conversation, but our lives sort of depend on it. Put your backpack on backwards.”
Mutely, she came closer to him as she put the backpack on her chest and slipped her arms through the straps. Even in the midst of the screaming fear that was raging through her mind, Shayne was an oasis of calm. He crouched and positioned her so that she was standing with her back to his chest. With a couple of swift, sure clicks, he strapped her tight to his body. She hugged her backpack, closing her eyes as he stood to his full height. Her toes barely brushed the floor. He only took a few steps before they were at the emergency hatch.
“This is going to be the loudest thing you’ve heard in a while.”
He didn’t give her any time to respond. With a twist of the large handle and a powerful yank, he opened the escape hatch. The door was ripped away from the plane.
For one terrified moment, she could see the whole mountain below them, forested and raised like the back of a wild animal. Then she shut her eyes tightly and clutched her backpack.
Shayne said something in her ear, but the wind whipped away the words. She thought she felt his lips brush against the back of her neck. Then, with a shove that she could feel all the way through her, he pushed off the plane.
They were in free fall, plummeting towards the earth. She screamed, but it was lost to the rushing wind. It seemed like an eternity before Shayne pulled the ripcord, though she knew that it had only been a few moments. They jerked to a stop that felt like a car slamming on the brakes. Somewhere above their heads was the loud snapping of fabric. In a moment of panic, Gillian wondered if the chute had ripped with their combined body weight. But when they continued their descent, it was far more controlled and far more quiet. But the wind was still whistling by with a great deal of speed. Shayne had wrapped a strong arm around her, pulling her even closer. Gillian realized he was trying to talk to her. His fingers brushed her cheek once and then again. She realized she had been crying. Perhaps it was just the wind bringing tears to her eyes, but she didn’t think so.
Slowly, ever so slowly, she opened them.
Stretched below her were the enormous mountains, ridges crested with giant trees as far as the eye could see. In the distance were purple peaks capped with snow, and beyond them was a sky that was so utterly blue that she couldn’t believe it.
Shayne pointed at something towards the left. She frowned, trying to see what he was indicating. There were trees, a mountain top, a few large birds, but that was all. Too late, she realized that he was distracting her from their descent. Suddenly the trees loomed. The only warning she got was Shayne throwing a hand over her face. Then they were plummeting through the pine boughs, cracking branches and scattering needles as they went. Gillian was screaming. Something snagged her dress and ripped it.
It felt like it would go on forever, that she would always be falling. Then with a jerk that was nearly as hard as the parachute opening, they stopped. Gillian grunted, her limbs dangling like a rag doll’s. Though Shayne took his hand from her face, all she could see where pine needles. They were completely engulfed. Finally though,
she heard the sound of her own breathing, heavy and panicked. That was quickly followed by the sensation of her heart trying to pound its way out of her chest. But against her back, she realized she could feel Shayne’s heart as well. Whether it was her imagination or real, she focused on its steady beat, using it to calm herself. Only after minutes did she realize that he was still talking.
“See? See, we’re fine, sweetheart. We’re fine.”
“I…” Her voice cracked. She swallowed and tried again. “Are we?”
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he hugged her close. “We are. Just hang on so I can cut us down.”
She started to ask him what he meant, but there was a flash of silver in his hand. They were falling again, but this time they dropped less than a few feet. She only managed to stay on her feet because of the harness. In moments, staying crouched, Shayne unsnapped it. Though wobbly, Gillian managed a step, then two. Before she could turn to him, he’d come around in front of her. He took the backpack and set it on the ground, his gaze never leaving her face.
Gillian stood still and felt the ground under her feet. The smell of pines was all around, and the silence almost made her think she was deaf. She cleared her throat.
“Your first time I take it,” Shayne said, still watching her. She nodded, pushing her hair back from her face. “You did good.”
She hadn’t done anything even close to good. If it’d been her, she’d still be on that plane.
“The Templars.” Gillian jerked her gaze up to the sky. “Our pilot…”
“I didn’t see the plane go down,” Shayne said. He untangled himself from the harness. “The longer she can keep it in the air, the better her chances will be. Right now, I think I’m more concerned about us.”
Gillian blinked.
“How do you mean?”
She watched as Shayne hoisted himself up into the pine tree. With a few quick motions, he managed to dislodge the parachute from the branches, dragging it back down with him. It collapsed into a billowing mound, but Shayne began bundling it with some of the strapping.
