“I traveled through the Ionyc Sea to fetch Smoky and Rozurial. They returned with me and helped rescue the others. Everyone’s safely back Earthside now.” Shade held out his arm and I slid into his embrace, wanting never to leave the shelter of his protection.
Camille glanced up at Trillian. “Did you . . . did you happen to see our father anywhere? He was in the throne room with Queen Asteria and . . . she’s dead. She was crushed under the rubble, as far as we know. As far as Father . . . we have no news. We don’t know whether he was . . .”
Her lip quivered and she sucked in a deep breath. The fact that they’d been just starting to iron out their relationship had to make this doubly hard. He’d disowned her for a while, and she’d walked away, accepting his decision but not knuckling under to his prejudice. They’d just made up a few months ago, an uneasy truce to see if they could forge a new bond. And now, this.
“We will look, my wife. We will go to Elqaneve and look. I am a dragon, these goblins cannot harm me.” Smoky tipped her chin up, smiling. His hair rose up and stroked her shoulders gently.
“You don’t know—you don’t know what it was like!” She broke away and turned to me. “They don’t understand how . . .”
I stepped up by her side. “Guys, she’s right. Trillian, you have no clue what was going on while you were trapped down there. The sorcerers, they raised a sentient storm. It was massive, far more massive than anything I’ve ever seen. That . . . thing . . . destroyed the city. It wasn’t an earthquake—not a natural one. Those damned lightning bolts went barreling into the ground, setting off the shaking. The storm was alive, malevolent. If Telazhar and his cronies can do that, what else are they capable of?”
Trillian caught my gaze and slowly shook his head. “We must find the Knights. If we don’t, then everything we’ve been working for goes down in ashes. Because if those loons that Asteria set to wearing the spirit seals break free and are unprotected, there is no hope. They aren’t bred to fend for themselves over here. Venus, maybe—he’s a wily old shaman, but the others? Helpless babes in the blazing wood. Telazhar will find them, of that you can be sure. And he will take them to Shadow Wing, who will destroy their souls and take the seals. And then . . . he will be all but unstoppable.”
Camille and I looked at each other, mutely. They were right, of course. “We can help—” she started, but Smoky shook his head.
“No, wife. You cannot. Trillian has been a mercenary in Queen Tanaquar’s army before. I’m a dragon. Rozurial can travel through the Ionyc Sea and he’s armed to the hilt. The three of us will stay here. You must return to Earthside. We cannot be worrying about you or it will distract us.”
Reluctantly, I saw the value of what they were saying. “Fine. But you have to let Trenyth know that Sharah is alive. She’s in line to take the throne if the other heirs are dead. Tell him, please.”
Smoky inclined his head. “Then, we shall be off, before the armies marching on Elqaneve arrive there.”
I wondered how he knew just what was going on and opened my mouth to ask when Shade held up his hand. “No, love. I know what you are going to ask. Trenyth actually found a Whispering Mirror still intact. I do not know where, but he found one. He told us everything, including the soldiers marching toward Elqaneve. They know scouts who weren’t in the city, who survived, got word to them.”
I wanted to slap him. To ask why he hadn’t told us that in the beginning, but considering the trauma and chaos of the night, I didn’t have the heart.
Tanaquar stood and we all curtseyed and bowed. “Then, I accept your help, Trillian, Smoky, and Rozurial. You will leave for Elqaneve immediately. And the rest of you—go home. Go home and be safe, and wait for word. Even here, the roads are too dangerous to send you out in public—we cannot know who might be lurking. So I will send you a guard to escort you to a hidden portal that leads Earthside.” With that, she turned and left the room.
Camille was whispering to Trillian and Smoky, and I could tell she was upset but we were all too tired to fight, to argue, to even cry.
I glanced up at Shade. “You are staying with us Earthside?”
“Someone has to protect the house, and so I will stay. And Vanzir and Shamas and Morio. But the elfin guards must leave for home—they will be needed there. Perhaps Camille can ask Aeval for additional support from the Earthside Fae to guard the house.” He pressed his lips against my forehead, and I wanted to lose myself in him, to forget the events of the past six hours.
I could not believe it was still today—this morning seemed a million miles away. Everything had seemed so normal, and now the world stood turned on its head. Like an extended nightmare, when I closed my eyes, all I could see were the endless fires and lightning strikes amid a cloud of dust and soot. Too much. Too much. I wanted to turn back the clock, to pretend this had never happened. But nothing would ever erase the memory of the storm as it rained down death.
The door opened and a guard peeked in, motioning for us to follow him. Camille let go of her men and joined Shade and me. Her lips were set in that determined look that I knew covered up a well of pain and fear. But she shook out her hair and stood proudly.
“Be safe, my loves. Be safe, Rozurial. Return to us under the watchful eye of the Moon Mother.” She turned and walked toward the door, not looking back.
I raised my hand in salute, and joined her, followed by Shade. Silently, we left the room, and just as silently, followed the guard down the hallway and into another chamber—a small library filled with scrolls, and a writing desk and chair. He walked up to a relatively bare wall and, in one quick motion, pressed a brick. A passageway sprang open and we followed him through into a narrow stairwell, which led down, spiraling into a lower level with a simple bed, chair, and table. A guard was standing at attention and after whispering with our guide, he motioned for us to turn around. Another moment, and we turned back to see a door to yet another secret chamber. In this chamber, a portal waited, like the one in the Wayfarer.
The guard hustled us into the portal, and the next thing we knew, the world shifted, the veils parted, and we were sailing home.
• • •
Blinking, I realized we were in Grandmother Coyote’s portal. And she was there, softly smiling, waiting for us.
“So the tide has turned, girls. And there is death and destruction imprinted on your souls. Bear in mind that all that was, all that will be, is dictated by a thin scale. The universe metes out its will. The gods play their hands. And we—the Hags of Fate and the Harvestmen, we wind the skeins of all life. But even we follow rules, and we are governed by the balance of order and of chaos. I will help you as I can, but things will grow much darker before there can be light. And the night—the night has just begun.”
And with that, she motioned for us to go, not giving us a chance to ask her any questions. We stepped out into the star-filled night. It was late, very late now, and nearing dawn. Menolly would still be up, and I wanted to get home in time to reassure myself that yes, she was okay. That Chase and Sharah were all right.
The trek back to the clearing was wet and soggy. Rain poured down, but the scent of the cedar and fir and moss and mildew soothed me as we pushed through the undergrowth. As we came into the clearing, we could see Vanzir.
He was waiting for us, leaning against his car, the headlights on to guide us. For the first time, the snarky look was gone from his face, and I could see real fear in his eyes. He straightened up as he saw us.
The sound of a jet winging overhead filled my ears and it felt sweet and safe—a far cry from the echoing thunder of the storm. But how close would that storm be to us? How long before Telazhar found more of the seals, or took control of the portals in Elqaneve and filtered his sorcerers through here to gate in the demons?
Too many questions. Too much danger ahead. I slipped into the backseat of the car next to Shade, while Camille settled in front with Vanzir. He started up the engine, and as we settled back against the seats, he eased the car out onto the road. But, even though I felt my eyes starting to close, the spin of the wheels on the pavement seemed to whisper, “Death . . . death . . . war is come and you are right in the path.”
Chapter 13
When we walked through the house, it felt like we’d been gone a million years. A million miles. Morio was there, waiting for Camille. Hanna had filled the table with steaming food. The quiet sound of Maggie playing echoed from the living room. Everything seemed so surreal that I didn’t know what to do first.
Camille looked equally at a loss. She cocked her head, and said, “What . . . it feels like we need to be doing something. How can we just walk back into our lives and go on as if nothing were happening over there?” She sounded mildly hysterical.
Morio glanced at Shade and nodded. “Okay, you two. First things first. You both need baths and food. Then, we’ll sort out what comes next. There’s nothing you can do for anyone in Elqaneve tonight. You’ve done all you could. You’ll just make yourselves sick if you don’t get some rest.”
He bundled Camille off to their rooms, and Shade slid his arm around my waist and we started the long haul up the stairs, watching as Morio and Camille vanished onto the second floor. By the time we reached our bedroom, I felt so exhausted I could barely walk. I wearily dropped to the bed, wanting nothing more than to pass out. But Shade wouldn’t let me.
Instead, he began to undress me, and I let him. Normally, I didn’t like anybody fussing with my clothes, but I laid back, letting him slide my boots off. Then he unzipped my jeans and eased them down my legs. Next, he slowly inched my panties off and added them to the pile.
“Give me your hand.” His warm gaze held me, and I obeyed. He pulled me to a sitting position and motioned for me to raise my arms. Off came the sweater, and then the bra. I sat there, naked, assessing the roadmap of bruises lining my arms and legs. There were also plenty of them on my torso, and I knew Camille had fared just as badly.
“How’s your hand?” he reached for my bandaged hand.
I stared at it. “I forgot about it.” And so I had. The pain of the wound seemed minute compared to everything that had happened.
Shade cautiously removed the bandage. The wound was sore and red, but it had not spread and seemed better than when Sharah had bandaged it earlier. He irrigated the wound, cautiously scrubbing the skin around it, then medicated it and fastened it with a new dressing. A plastic bag over the top, snugly fitted to my wrist, would ensure that it didn’t get wet.
“Come on pussycat. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He led me into the bathroom, and even though I didn’t care for baths, I welcomed the sight of the steaming tub of bubbles. My aching muscles also didn’t like the thought of standing up in the shower, and so I eased myself into the tub, leaning back, trying to ignore the sensation of motion that always made me queasy when water lapped around my body.
A moment later, and Shade was scrubbing my back, still in silence. I closed my eyes, but the rolling clouds, the flashing lightning, lit up my memory and I began to panic. I jerked to a sitting position, trying to breathe.
“Love, love . . . are you all right? Delilah?” Shade had hold of my hands.
“The storm . . . the storm.” And then, I was crying, weeping, as I wrapped my arms around my shins and rested my head on my knees. “It was horrible. It was so . . .” I lifted my head slowly, staring straight ahead. “If this is what war is like, how do men live through weeks and months and years of it? How do you live in that much fear for so long without going crazy?”
Shade stroked my hair, then my face. “You don’t. Every war takes a toll. Even tonight, even what you and Camille went through . . . I’m sorry, my sweet, but it will be with you forever. I doubt you’ll ever be free of that memory. That’s what war does to people, whether you escape near the beginning, or you see utter destruction for years on end. There’s nothing to be done but learn to live with it. To learn to face the fear and not run.”
As he took the shampoo and rubbed it in my hair, holding me gently as I lay back for him to lather and rinse, I thought about all the people we knew who had been to war. How, even though we were on the verge of demonic war and had been fighting demons for what seemed like forever, we had seen nothing yet.
And Shadow Wing’s armies would be worse than Telazhar. The death that we’d seen rain down from the sky today was a pale shadow to what the Demon Lord could do if he broke through. We’d need to be at the top of our game. We’d need to push aside the apprehension and make certain that our worst fears didn’t happen.
By the time I was clean, the numbness was beginning to seep out of my soul. The hot water, Shade’s gentle hands . . . the feeling of being home, helped to cushion the pain. My body ached. I was hungry and tired but ready to face whatever came.
“I guess . . . food next. And then, we see how Sharah is doing. And then . . . to sleep?” I looked at my lover.
Shade held out the towel. “It will get worse, Delilah. It will get far worse before it gets better. But we have an advantage. We have something to lose. And you always fight harder when you’ve got someone to protect, or something to lose.”
And with that, I toweled off, brushed my hair, dressed in my sweats, and we headed down to the kitchen to regroup, take stock, and figure out what the hell we were going to do after that.
• • •
Menolly was anxiously waiting to launch herself at me when I entered the room. In an uncharacteristic move, she slammed into me for a hug, then—to my startlement—leaned up to plant a quick kiss on my cheek. It was over before I could say a word, but that she had been able to bring herself to show physical affection to someone other than a lover spoke volumes.