Zak, too, had dressed for the occasion in similar clothes, and he hadn’t bothered with his shadow-hood coat. Too bulky, probably.
Me, well, I wore sturdy jeans, hiking boots, and my leather bomber jacket. The closest outfit I had to “badass combat mythic.” All three of my sorcery artifacts were tucked in my pockets, and the only other thing I carried was my cell phone.
As the guys strapped on their weapons, the air shimmered and the sylph appeared. She nuzzled the back of Zak’s neck, then glided behind me and closed her small front paws around the collar of my coat. As I’d discovered earlier today while getting ready, she liked to be towed along like a kid in a wagon.
“She says you chose a name for her,” Zak remarked as he opened his tailgate. A duffle bag waited, plus a stack of his own gear.
“We named her Hoshi. It means ‘star’ in Japanese.” I patted the sylph’s nose. “Does she like it?”
“She does.” He buckled on his belt of alchemic vials, then picked up a set of three long knives. As he strapped them around his thigh, he frowned thoughtfully. “If she’s staying with you, you two need to be able to communicate.”
“You said she doesn’t talk.”
“She doesn’t. She communicates with images and a few sounds, but not words.” He turned to his truck bed. “Take off your coat.”
I was halfway through sliding my coat off when I realized I hadn’t questioned his abrupt command. Damn, I must be growing desensitized to his bossy bluntness. The glow of my rune-covered arm reflected off his shiny truck as I flipped my coat over the edge of the box.
He dug into a pocket of his duffle bag, then turned to me, a thin black pen in hand. Wait, no, not a pen.
“Is that eyeliner?”
“Non-smudging, waterproof eyeliner.” He lifted the hem of his shirt to show me the bottom of a spikey, rune-filled triangle on his side. “Best product for drawing on skin.”
“You don’t say.”
Taking my left elbow, he uncapped the eyeliner with his teeth. Hoshi hovered beside him, watching with curious fuchsia eyes.
As he drew on my arm, I whispered, “Maybe he’s born with it …”
“Ha-ha.”
Aaron wandered over, adjusting the baldric across his chest. The leather-wrapped hilt of Sharpie, his biggest sword, jutted above his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Zak drew a swift circle on my upper arm, filled the center with a jagged rune, then added radiating lines and more runes. As he capped the liner, Hoshi stretched out her petite muzzle and touched the centermost symbol.
Heat flashed through my arm. “Whoa! What was that?”
“Now you can communicate with her. Might take some practice, though.” He stuffed the liner back in his bag. “Are we ready?”
Aaron’s trunk was closed, and Ezra and Kai had donned their weapons. The latter wore two swords at his hip—a long katana in a black sheath, and a shorter one. Kai usually relied on small throwing knives; I hadn’t seen him bring out his swords in months.
I squinted at my drawn-upon arm, then pulled my coat back on. “Guys, are we ready?”
“No,” Aaron replied. “We’re waiting for the O’Conner sisters. I called them yesterday with an update, and they insisted on being present.”
“Is that a problem?” I asked Zak.
He shrugged. “As long as no one calls me the Ghost in front of them, they’ll have no idea who I am.”
Minutes ticked by as we waited. At a quarter after nine, a familiar blue sedan pulled into the lot and parked a few spaces away. Olivia climbed out, her hair in a messy ponytail, bags under her eyes, and a greenish bruise on her cheek—courtesy of yours truly. She straightened her khaki pants, barely glancing at Zak.
“Sorry I’m late,” she mumbled.
I frowned. “Where’s Odette?”
“She’s not feeling well. She stayed home.”
“Are you okay?”
“I might be coming down with something too.” She squeezed her temples like her head hurt. “Can we hurry?”
Yeesh. If she was going to be cranky, she should’ve stayed at home.
Zak heaved his duffle bag out and slung it over his shoulder, then reached into the truck for a small pet carrier. As he slid it out, something inside squawked.
“Uh … what is that?” I asked in alarm.
He shut the tailgate. “A chicken.”
“Why did you bring a chicken?”
He started across the parking lot. I scrambled after him, the three mages following and Olivia bringing up the rear. Hoshi had vanished, but I figured she was nearby.
“Zak? Chicken. Explain.”
“Did you forget already? Our plan requires a blood summoning array.”
“Blood …” My gorge rose as we walked onto a dark trail through the trees. “Tell me you aren’t planning what I think you are.”
“It’s black magic, Tori. No getting around it.”
“But—”
“But the chicken will make a delicious roast.”
I gulped down my twisting stomach. Right. Zak lived on a farm, and he was nothing if not pragmatic. That chicken had been destined for someone’s dinner table anyway, and he wouldn’t waste it.
We made our way down the sloping path toward the coast. Zak scouted around, then chose a forested spot away from the trails but close enough to hear ocean waves. The near-full moon provided our only light as he kicked the worst of the leaf litter out of the clearing, then unzipped his duffle bag.
Keeping out of the way, I watched him open a large wine bottle and stick a spout in it. When he upended it, instead of liquor, a viscous silver liquid poured out. He used it to draw a perfect circle three feet across, then marked out lines and runes. No grimoire needed.
“Who is this mythic?” Olivia whispered to Kai. “Is he a witch or—oh my sweet lady earth!”
“What?” I demanded.
“His familiar is possessing him!”
Zak glanced at her, his green eyes supernaturally bright. “And?”
“That’s—that’s disgraceful! And dangerous! Only black witches and druids would ever allow a fae that much influence over—”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He bent over the circle again, adding lines and runes with swift precision. “Witches know less about fae than vampires.”
Olivia let out another wild gasp. “You’re a druid?”
“I’m obviously not a witch.”
“Fae possession is taboo,” she declared righteously. “Whoring yourself for power, opening your body and mind to a fae like a prostitute for a—”
The feather tattoos on his arms shimmered. “You’re making my familiar angry. You don’t want to do that.”
Olivia snapped her mouth shut. She minced sideways until she stood beside me, then whispered feverishly in my ear, “This is why a druid’s primary familiar is called a consort. It’s obscenely intimate to allow a fae inside your body. With prolonged exposure—”
“If she doesn’t shut up,” Zak said coolly, “I’ll silence her.”
“Olivia,” Kai snapped, “keep your opinions to yourself.”
She pressed her lips together, glaring mutinously. Zak continued his preparations, adding various dried plants, fresh leaves, bits of precious metals, pouches with mysterious substances in them, and crystals. Finally, he brought out a scorched metal bowl, filled it with oil, and lit it on fire. Smoke curled up from the dish.
He turned to us. “I’m ready to begin the summoning. I’ll stand in front of the circle. Kai, Aaron, Ezra, you three line up four paces behind me. Don’t speak, no matter what I say; this will require some calculated bravado. I won’t know how powerful the darkfae is until he shows up, so I’ll signal to you.”
He held up his index finger. “One means I don’t need your help. Just look menacing.” He spread his hand, fingers and thumb outstretched. “Five means we’re dead if he decides he doesn’t want us alive, so I’ll give him whatever he wants and hope he doesn’t
massacre us.”
“And what about two through four?” Kai asked.
Zak shrugged. “Four means we can probably win in a fight, but avoid taking a direct hit at all costs. If the fae attacks, he’ll go for me first. You three should get behind him. I’ll keep his attention, and you strike from the flanks and rear.”
“How likely is a fight?” I asked nervously.
“Depends on his temperament. Since this fae regularly deals with humans, probably low. He’ll want to see what he can get from us.” Zak pointed at me. “You and the fae lord need to stay out of this. If the darkfae is too powerful for us to handle, then Llyr would cause you serious damage fighting it. You and the witch should back up—way up—and stay there.”
He gave me a meaningful look and I nodded in understanding. I grabbed Olivia’s arm and hauled her through the trees until we were well away from the clearing. She complained the whole way, but I ignored her. Zak wanted me to keep her from screwing things up. That I could do.
Aaron and Ezra, positioned on either side of Kai, moved out a few steps and drew their weapons. Aaron rested the point of his broadsword on the ground, while Ezra split his polearm and reattached the ends, forming a double-bladed staff. Leaving his throwing knives sheathed, Kai drew his katana, the polished steel gleaming.
Zak’s voice drifted through the trees in a soft chant that verged on a song. I crouched behind a shrub and pulled Olivia down with me.
“Dealing with darkfae,” Olivia hissed angrily. “No better than Red Rum.”
“Which is worse?” I hissed back. “Dealing with this darkfae or letting me die? Witch ethics aside, I’d rather live.”
Zak crouched to open the pet carrier. As he pulled the chicken out, I glimpsed ruffled brown feathers—and the gleam of a knife in his other hand. His body blocked my view, but whatever he did, he was quick about it. The fire in the center of the circle puffed black smoke, and the ritual lines lit with glowing magenta power.
He resumed his chanting song. The circle’s eerie glow grew brighter, and Olivia fidgeted with impatience and discomfort. I pinched her arm to make her hold still.
Falling silent, Zak stood, unmoving. Aaron, Kai, and Ezra held still too, following the druid’s lead. We waited, the night gradually deepening. My legs ached from crouching awkwardly, but I didn’t move.
Olivia sucked in a sharp, trembling breath.
The air above the glowing circle shimmered. A shadow darkened the glow of the fire, then the shape stretched upward and solidified. My stomach clenched.
The fae called the Rat towered over Zak, twice his height. The creature stood in a hunch, his immensely long arms braced against the ground, his powerful shoulders bulging like a hyena’s. A bald, rat-like tail lashed behind him, and his brownish-gray skin shone dimly in the sputtering firelight.
His large head was vaguely human, with a heavy brow and deep-set eyes, but jutting tusks stuck up from his lower jaw. A tangled black mane sprouted from the top of his skull.
“Bhardudlin,” Zak said, his tone neutral. He put his hand behind his back and signaled a number to the mages. Even from fifty feet away, I could see his hand spread wide in warning. Five.
The darkfae’s head dropped a few inches as he examined Zak with ebony eyes.
“Druid.” The deep, bone-rumbling bass of his voice rolled through the quiet night. “The Crystal Druid, no less. I give my respects to the lovely Night Eagle.”
Zak inclined his head. “Would you care to bargain, Bhardudlin?”
“Hmm.” His giant head lunged down, far faster than such a huge creature should be able to move. He flung his head into the air, caught the dead chicken in his mouth, and swallowed it in one gulp. “I did not travel so far for a measly bird.”
A few scraggily feathers drifted to the ground.
“As we have not had the pleasure of meeting,” Bhardudlin continued, the baritone words slurring past his tusks, “I shall illuminate my preferences for you. I do not enjoy games of word, or plays of strength or strategy.” His black stare slashed across the three mages. “You summoned me with a goal, so speak it. Then we will bargain.”
“I seek an enslavement relic. I believe you have traded these to humans before.”
“I have. Not a tool I expected you to desire, Crystal Druid.”
“My use for it is irrelevant.”
A cackling laugh. “A straightforward creature you are. I like that.” He growled thoughtfully. “I demand the highest price for these relics. I accept the three warriors.”
“They are not bargaining chips. I will give you no lives.”
“What else can you offer? I have no use for trinkets.”
“I own a variety of rare artifacts and relics. Tell me where your interests lie and I can offer you something of value.”
“Hmm.” The fae bobbed his head in consideration. “I seek only tools of power, druid.”
“Would the Carapace of Valdurna interest you?”
A strange dark light ignited in the fae’s eyes. “You do not have it.”
“I do.”
Lips parting, Bhardudlin ran a thick, slimy tongue across one tusk. “A good offering to start. What else would you give?”
“A grimoire of Hindarfur.”
“What does it contain?”
Zak shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t read it.”
“Then it may be worthless.”
“Or it may be priceless.”
Another ugly laugh. “Bold, druid, so bold. Tell me of your other treasures. How much of the Wolfsbane Druid’s collection did you steal when you killed him?”
“All of it.”
“Ha! I would expect no less.”
Olivia grabbed my arm, her fingers digging in. “Tori!” she hissed. “Look at the trees!”
“Huh?” I squinted around the clearing as Zak listed more of his fae treasures to Bhardudlin’s greedy delight. Everything looked normal …
Olivia pointed. The trees surrounding the clearing were difficult to make out in the darkness, but I caught a flutter of movement. Falling leaves? But there was no wind. I squinted harder.
Just beyond the clearing where the four guys and the darkfae stood, the trees were dying. Their leaves were shriveling and falling, their thinnest branches melting like they’d been rotting for months.
“Is the darkfae doing that?” I gasped.
“He’s building up his magic.” Olivia tightened her grip on my arm, her face ghostly white. “He’s preparing an attack—a powerful unleashing.”
Zak had said a fae this powerful could kill us all no problem. But they were negotiating, weren’t they? Why was the fae preparing an attack?
My hands clenched into fists. I wasn’t letting the guys die on my account. No. Way. In. Hell. I had no power to fight, but I was tied to a fae with enough magic to defend us—even if I became the collateral damage.
Better me than all of us.
“Stay here,” I told Olivia.
I crept into the undergrowth, but instead of obeying, Olivia followed. Growling under my breath, I kept moving.
The spreading wave of death reached us: the ferns turned brown and their fan-like leaves curled; the bushes shrank and their foliage shriveled; tree bark turned black; and dead leaves rained softly on my head. Bhardudlin was sucking the life out of the surrounding forest to fuel his magic, keeping it hidden from Zak and the mages.
“Impressive, impressive,” Bhardudlin rumbled. “I confess I am torn as to what I want most from you, druid.”
“I think we can come to an agreeable exchange.”
“Perhaps.” His tusks gleamed in the shrinking firelight. “Perhaps not.”
Zak tensed. “Is there a problem, Bhardudlin?”
“Only that I desire everything you offer—and more. I do not want a handful of your toys, Crystal Druid. I want you.”
His dull pink tongue slid out from between his lips, then faster than a blink, he grabbed Zak in his massive hands. Bhardudlin lifted Zak into the air, thick
fingers spanning his chest.
The fae dragged his fat tongue up the side of Zak’s face. “A pet druid of my own.”
Black wings flared off Zak’s shoulders and shadowy blades surged out of him, lashing Bhardudlin’s face.
The darkfae dropped Zak. He fell six feet and landed on his knees, phantom wings still spread. He shot to his feet and retreated rapidly, forcing the three mages to back up with him.
“You would betray the barter truce?” Zak demanded.
Bhardudlin heaved a guttural laugh. “I follow none of the rules of my pathetic kin. You should have realized that before calling me. Nothing you offer is as tempting as claiming you.” He clacked his tusks. “Come out and play with me, beautiful Lallakai. I will battle you for your beloved consort.”
Her wings flared wider but she didn’t emerge from Zak’s body.
“A shame, a shame.” Bhardudlin opened his huge hands, fingers curled like he held an invisible beach ball between his palms. “Then I will force you out—unless you and your druid die first. If you do, I will know he was not strong enough to make an entertaining pet.”
Dark power sparked in the space between the fae’s hands. The crackling ebony light expanded, growing larger and larger—the magic he had killed an acre of forest to fuel.
I launched to my feet and sprinted toward the mages. Olivia ran after me.
Bhardudlin pulled his hands apart and power surged to fill the gap. The sizzling air turned heavy and poisonous, and the ground trembled. With an ecstatic roar, the darkfae unleashed his attack.
A maelstrom of black magic hurtled toward the druid. Zak thrust his hands out and shadows erupted from his palms, forming a rippling dome. Bhardudlin’s attack struck the nebulous barrier. All the heaving, crackling power piled against the obstacle.
Zak had warned against fighting such a powerful fae. He’d also warned us not to take a direct hit. Now he was doing both because he had no choice.
Two Witches and a Whiskey (The Guild Codex: Spellbound Book 3) Page 19
