Witching Fire: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 16

by Galenorn, Yasmine

  “What about me? I’m a god. I should be able to stop it.” Kipa leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Dek laughed. “Oh, my brother, you know too well that the gods can’t solve all problems. You would do well to help your lady, though. I think you should go out to the astral to fight it and keep it occupied while she casts the seal of protection on her friend.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “I’m not familiar with seals of protection, but I’ll do some research to find out how to cast them. Llew might know, or he’ll know someone who can teach me.”

  Kipa shook his head. “No, Llew won’t. This is a powerful spell and very few of the magic-born know how to wield it. But I do know someone who can teach you,” Kipa said. “He belongs to the Force Majeure.”

  I took a deep breath. The Force Majeure was a group of master sorcerers and magicians. There were twenty-one of them at any given time, and all of them were thousands of years old. They ranged from Taliesin to Rasputin to the Merlin and more. In fact, the Merlin was Herne’s grandfather. The chance to meet one of them was both tempting and terrifying. They were the rock stars of the magical world.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Väinämöinen, the first bard,” Kipa said. “He’s the oldest hero in all of Kalevala. And he’s a master sorcerer.”

  The thought of just being able to say hello to such a powerful magician was exciting, but to actually learn from him? That was a carrot I couldn’t refuse.

  “How do we get in contact with him?” I asked.

  “I’ll take you to him. We’ll have to journey to the realm of Kalevala. That’s where Väinämöinen lives. It will be a cold trip, though, far colder than this one.” He flashed me a smile. “I’ll get to show you my home sooner than I thought.”

  I had been looking forward to seeing the miles of forests and the thousands of lakes he had told me about. While the thought of going in there to face one of the oldest members of the Force Majeure was as daunting as it was exciting, I wasn’t going to let fear sway me.

  “All right. When can we go?”

  “Tomorrow.” Kipa winked at me. “You’ll love it, and the first bard won’t turn you into a toad. I promise.”

  “Well then, it sounds like you have a plan to take care of the problem.” Dek pushed the book aside and stretched. He was truly a burly man and I could easily see the aura of the bear around him. “Are you hungry? I have bread and the sweetest, creamiest cheese you’ve ever tasted. I also have a pot of soup on the stove that’s been simmering since morning.”

  I realized that my stomach was rumbling and now that he mentioned it, I could smell the soup. I had thought the cottage smelled good, but now I knew that it was the smell of rich broth and beef and tomato.

  “I’d like that,” I said, before Kipa could answer.

  “Then lunch it is,” Dek said, crossing over to the stove.

  “Do you need some help?” I asked.

  “Nay, lass. You’re a guest. Sit and be comfortable. We’ll have a chat about gargoyles as we eat.” He methodically began to ladle out soup into stoneware mugs, and then opened a breadbox on the counter near the massive iron cookstove. As he was lifting a loaf out of the box, there was a knock on the door and it opened, a lovely, tall redheaded woman peeking around the corner.

  “Da—can you… Oh, I didn’t know you had company,” she said, slipping inside the room. She was wearing a long green gown with knotwork trim in yellow, and over the gown she wore a heavy cloak in winter white. Her hair was down to her lower back, held in place by braids on both side of her temples that met in the back, fastened with a crystal barrette. Behind her, a small boy peeked at us around her skirts. He was the spitting image of her, and had his left thumb jammed in his mouth as he held onto his mother’s skirts with his right hand.

  “Come in, Nettie. Do you remember Kuippana?” Dek waved her in, his face brightening.

  “Of course,” Nettie murmured, curtseying to Kipa. “Lord of the Wolves, you honor us with your presence.”

  Kipa was suppressing a laugh, I could see it in his eyes. “Mistress Nettie, well met yet again. Allow me to introduce my lady, Raven BoneTalker, the Daughter of Bones. And is this one of your young ones?”

  Nettie glanced at me and curtseyed again. “Yes, Lord Kuippana. This is my son, Avan. How do you do, Lady Raven?”

  I wasn’t used to the formality, but realized that here, Kipa’s godhood was taken more seriously than back in our world. People—humans especially—didn’t seem to realize how powerful the gods could be. They seemed to think they were like superheroes or entertainment celebrities rather than vast immortal beings. Granted, the gods weren’t omnipotent, but they were far more powerful than most people understood.

  “I’m well, thank you for asking. What a cute child,” I said. I wasn’t that interested in kids, except if they needed help, but the boy was adorable. He stared up at me with sparkling eyes.

  “Ghos’—” he said, pointing at me.

  Surprised, I walked over to his side, kneeling. “That’s right, I’m a bone witch and ghosts follow me everywhere,” I said. “But they’re okay—don’t be afraid.” I turned my head to Nettie. “He can see spirits?”

  “Yes, it’s a gift he has.” As she stared at me, Nettie let out a gasp and took a step back, then caught herself. “I don’t mean to offend but…you’re one of the Ante-Fae, aren’t you?”

  I stood. “Yes, I am. Please don’t be afraid. I’m not nearly as dangerous as some of my race.”

  There was a lot of fear of the Ante-Fae among some of the Crypto communities, and with good reason.

  “Yes, Lady,” Nettie said. She turned to her father. “Da, I was going to ask if you could watch Avan for the afternoon? I have to travel into the village to shop, and Jerah is out hunting with Tomvil. Aiada is making up the bread for the week and Avan would get in her way.”

  Dek set down the bread and picked up the boy. “How about it, boy? Would you like to spend the afternoon with your Gran-Da?”

  Avan laughed and leaned in to plaster a kiss on Dek’s nose. “Yah. Gran-Da,” he started to say, but ended in a yawn.

  “He needs his nap,” Nettie said. “He’ll be shifting any minute and best he be asleep by then.”

  Dek glanced at me. “Our people, when we’re children, automatically shift when we take naps and go to sleep at night.” He handed Avan back to Nettie. “All right, get him situated in the guest room and then be off to do your shopping.”

  “Thank you, Da,” she said, taking Avan and heading through one of the other doors in the cabin.

  “I hate to ask, but…do you have…” I blushed. There was no delicate way to say I had to use the bathroom, but Dek seemed to understand.

  “The door my daughter went through? You’ll find the facilities through the one next to it.” He pointed to the second door. “Go down the hall and take the third door on the right.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  The door led to a long hallway, which surprised me, given that when I had first seen the cottage, it looked far smaller than it seemed inside. But I was well aware of magic that created spatial distortions and so I didn’t bother trying to figure it out. I merely followed the hallway that stretched out for some ways, and when I came to the third door on the right, I opened it.

  Inside was a bathroom that was both luxurious and yet, rustic. A marble bathtub sat against one wall, near a fireplace that took up half the wall. Several pails hung from a pole hung over the logs, and I peeked in them to see water, up to the brim. They were large enough that at first I wondered how Dek would carry them to the tub, but then it occurred to me that he was a bear shifter, and strong enough to manage without a problem.

  There was a pitcher of water near a basin, along with a bar of soap, and a towel. In one corner of a room I spied a pump, and thought that must be a luxury—providing indoor water so he wouldn’t have to haul it in from outside. In another corner of the room sat the toilet and it looked a lot like the
composting toilets over on Earth. In fact, when I examined it, I saw that sure enough, it had been made in China. Laughing, I used the facilities and then washed my hands in the basin.

  The soap was a pleasant rose scent, and when I was finished up, I glanced at my image in the mirror hanging over the basin. I smoothed a few stray strands of hair, but otherwise, everything still looked good and so I returned to the main room, resisting the impulse to sneak a peek in the other rooms in this wing of the cottage. First, it was rude, and second—I didn’t feel like learning anything that I might not want to know.

  I reentered the living room, ready to tackle lunch. Dek had set the table with the stoneware soup mugs that looked hand thrown, and the loaf of bread, cut into thick slices. There was butter and honey and a round of cheese cut into wedges. He had also added a ham, sliced thinly. The smells of the food made my stomach rumble.

  “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought I was,” I said. “So, you have an interesting house.”

  Dek snorted. “You are a mistress of understatement. Yes, that wing of the house extends into a private dimension that a witch friend of mine set up. It acts like a panic room does in your world, should anything go awry.”

  “Ah, I wondered.” I slid onto the bench in front of my plate and we began to eat. The soup was a rich tomato-beef stock, with tender shreds of beef, sun-dried tomatoes that tasted like they had been dried at their peak, chunks of creamy white potatoes, and pearl onions. I hadn’t tasted anything quite so good in a long time.

  “I could bathe in this, it’s so good,” I said, shaking my head. “What’s your secret?”

  “Quality ingredients, prepared with care and love, and the perfect amount of char on the meat before you add it to the soup. Then slow cook it for several hours.” Dek looked pleased. He pointed toward the cheese. “My daughter made that. Tell me what you think.”

  I obediently bit into a wedge of the cheese and the creamy tang hit my tongue and almost made me wince, but in a good way. I spread some of it on a piece of bread and ate it and everything blended together into one big orgasm for my taste buds.

  “Oh man, I thought I ate well, but this…I could eat like this every day and be perfectly content. I think when I get home, I’ll take more care with my meals.” I looked at Kipa. “You too, Wolf-Boy. We’re going to see what we can rustle up that might rival this.”

  Kipa snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”

  When we were settled into our meal, Dek asked, “All right, you said you had some questions about gargoyles?”

  “Yes, I do. So, here’s my situation. Some time ago, I won a young gargoyle—very young—in a poker game from a demon. The demon had cut off his wings, and the poor baby was hurting. I took him home and I tended to his wounds, and I found a witch who could cast a memory spell on him so he would forget about his early life and forget that he ever had wings. He’s been with me over fifty years, and he has…oh…about the mentality of a child around eight years old—using human years.” I described his size.

  “How do you get along?” Dek asked.

  “We’ve formed an intense bond. I love him and he loves me, and he gets anxiety disorder when I’m away too long. I found out that he’s multilingual—apparently he only needs to hear a language to understand it. He also has a power that I’ve seen twice, and both times he’s blanked out and forgotten all about the incidents.” I told Dek about the incident with Jim Morrison’s spirit, and then the aztrophyllia. “He has…what I call laser eyes. He was able to see the aztrophyllia even though it was invisible, and he shot a beam of light at it and made it let go of me. I need to know if these are common to the gargoyle race, or does he have some special powers that make him unique?”

  Dek set down his spoon, propping it against the bowl, and walked over to his bookcase. He trailed his finger over the spines till he came to one volume, and he pulled it out. As he returned, he handed it to me. “Here, you can borrow this.”

  I opened it up, expecting not to be able to read the language, but it was written in a Fae dialect that I knew. The title page read “Gargoyles In Their Natural Environment” and I flipped to the contents page. The chapters included different types of gargoyles—apparently there were more than one—and the different environments they were found in, the principal traits of each species of gargoyle, their powers and abilities and innate nature, the care and feeding of each species, and finally, essays on what was apparently a great mystery about them.

  “From what I know about gargoyles, the ability to speak multiple languages is innate among most of the species. And what you call the laser-eye power is normal among the gargoyle elite. It grows as they grow. I can only think that he must have come from a royal family line. Demons prize owning gargoyles for several reasons. They make effective bodyguards, for one thing, but they’re also good ransom material if you can steal one from one of the royal bloodlines in the gargoyle world.”

  I stared at the book. “Royalty? You mean Raj could be a prince?”

  “Probably a minor noble that’s connected to the crown. If he’d been a prince, the demon wouldn’t have cut off his wings because they’d never recoup their money. In fact, I wonder if the demon tried to extort a ransom and the family refused to pay, leaving your Raj to a life of captivity and torture.” Dek scowled. “One thing to know about gargoyles is their society is harsh and they aren’t kind to any of their own who are disabled or lacking in any sense of the word.”

  “That I knew,” I murmured. I flipped through the book. “This looks in-depth.”

  “Yes, and it’s all factual. That author is an excellent researcher. He lives in the great city of TirNaNog.”

  “The one near where I live, or its mother-city?” I asked, flipping through the pages. “Do you mind if I make a copy of this before I give it back to you?”

  “Of course you may. And I’m speaking of the mother-city of TirNaNog.”

  TirNaNog was the city of the Dark Fae, and Navane was the city of the Light Fae. Both were ancient and sprawling, and they were at constant war with one another. But over on Earth, the smaller cities—named after the original—kept their warring in check. Somewhat. My friends Herne and Ember were in charge of the Wild Hunt Agency and their main purpose was to ensure that collateral damage—from petty bickering between the two—didn’t splash over into the human realm.

  “I’ve never seen the original cities. I’m not sure I want to, given the depths of their animosity toward one another. And I’m sure they wouldn’t hesitate to aim that animosity toward the Ante-Fae, either. They don’t like the fact that we’re their predecessors and stronger and more cunning than any of them—Light or Dark.” I had friends who were Fae but most of them seemed to be on the outs…the black sheep of the family or rejected by their lineage for one reason or another.

  “Yes, well, you aren’t missing anything unless you like beautiful architecture. Even within the city walls, you can feel the sense of arrogance seeping through the air. They don’t welcome my kind there either, so we have something in common.” Dek shrugged. “No skin off my nose. But the author who wrote that book lives there, and he’s on the outskirts of society. Most of the Fae are unconcerned about anyone who isn’t one of their own.”

  I wanted to begin reading the book right there, but that would be rude. So we finished our lunch, talking about other things, and then Kipa stood.

  “I hate to eat and run, but we should get back home and start working on the wards against the aztrophyllia. I know we put up another one this morning, but I’m not sure how well it’s going to work.” He motioned for me to stand. “I’ll get our coats—”

  “No,” Dek said. “You’re my guests, I’ll get them. Besides, they’re in one of my guest rooms and Avan is asleep in there.”

  As he slipped out, I turned to Kipa. “You can actually get me in to see Van…what the hell is his name again?”

  “Väinämöinen. And yes, he happens to be a friend of mine. He’s also one of Tapio’s friends and we had a l
ot of boys’ nights until…” He stopped, a sheepish look on his face.

  “Until you tried to seduce his wife. You dolt!” I said, smacking him on the arm. “I wish you’d apologize for real so that you could go back to Mielikki’s Arrow without feeling like you’re on probation.”

  Kipa laughed. “I’ll try, love. I’ll try.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Holding the book as if it were precious cargo, I made my farewell to Dek, whom I decided I liked and then we headed back toward the portal through which we had come. I carried the gargoyle guide with me, making certain it was safely stowed away in my backpack.

  The snow fell steadily, blotting out most of the sounds. I loved the way snow muffled everything. It felt like nature’s bubble wrap, cushioning even the strongest blows. Once we were at the edge of Dek’s home, Kipa changed into his wolf form again, and I climbed on his back as his mighty hind legs propelled us along the path, back to the hill and up the slippery surface.

  By the time we reached the portal, I was deep in thought. The process to take care of Lenny involved far more than I had thought it would, and for the first time, I questioned whether I enjoyed putting myself out there for others. Dek’s cabin had seemed so safe and cozy, and while I wasn’t cut out for living out in the wilderness, I had a sudden desire to curl up at home and quit chasing down dragons and demons and ghosts and ghouls.

  I must have been too quiet because, once we were at the portal and Kipa transformed back, he turned to me. “Are you all right, love?”

  I shrugged. “I’m overwhelmed. I’m still coming to terms with what Pandora did to me, then this mess with the Banra-Sheagh, then my father’s betrayal, and now, coping with Vixen’s friend. Sometimes I want to get away and forget about everything and everybody except myself, you, and Raj. And the ferrets.”

  “You need a vacation,” he said.