A SHADOW OF CROWS
-A Wild Hunt Novel-
-Book 4-
YASMINE GALENORN
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published by Yasmine Galenorn
PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037
A SHADOW OF CROWS
A Wild Hunt Novel
Copyright © 2018 by Yasmine Galenorn
First Electronic Printing: 2018 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC
First Print Edition: 2018 Nightqueen Enterprises
Cover Art & Design: Ravven
Art Copyright: Yasmine Galenorn
Editor: Elizabeth Flynn
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Welcome to A Shadow of Crows
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Cast of Characters
Playlist
Biography
Acknowledgments
Welcome back into my world of the Wild Hunt. This series has taken full hold with me and the world is expanding in wonderful and mysterious ways. I’m envisioning more of Ember and Herne’s world with each passing day and I’m so grateful that my readers have taken it into their hearts. I’m loving writing this like nothing else that I’ve written in a long, long time. I’m also planning to introduce a spinoff series, alongside the original, next year.
Thanks to my usual crew: Samwise, my husband, Andria and Jennifer—without their help, I’d be swamped. To the women who have helped me find my way in indie, you’re all great, and to the Wild Hunt, which runs deep in my magick, as well as in my fiction.
Also, my love to my furbles, who keep me happy. And most reverent devotion to Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and Brighid, my spiritual guardians and guides. And to the spirit of the Wild Hunt, Herne, and Cernunnos, who still rule the wild places of this world.
If you wish to reach me, you can find me through my website at Galenorn.com and be sure to sign up for my newsletter to keep updated on all my latest releases!
Brightest Blessings,
~The Painted Panther~
~Yasmine Galenorn~
Welcome to A Shadow of Crows
Life isn’t easy when you bear the mark of the Silver Stag.
As autumn approaches and Ember approaches the Cruharach, a revelation rocks Herne’s world that threatens their relationship. In the middle of the chaos, the Wild Hunt is approached by Raven, one of the Ante-Fae. A bone-witch, Raven hires them to find her missing fiancé. The spirits have warned her that he’s in danger.
The Wild Hunt follows a trail of blood and bones, leading them into a labyrinth of grisly deaths that extend far beyond Raven’s lost love. A serial killer is murdering humans and Fae alike, hoping to win favor with one of the gods. But as Ember and Herne draw close to solving the case, yet another bombshell drops. And this time, the fallout could lead to outright war between the Fae Courts and an ancient enemy.
Reading Order for the Wild Hunt Series:
Book 1: The Silver Stag
Book 2: Oak & Thorns
Book 3: Iron Bones
Book 4: A Shadow of Crows
Chapter 1
I CROUCHED, ONE knee on the ground, as I hid behind the huckleberry bush. As I waited for Viktor’s warning, I glanced up at the sky. The clearing was open to the heavy cloud cover, and I could smell the lightning as it churned overhead. The storm hadn’t broken yet, but I could feel it, like a slow spiraling monster, waiting for the precise moment to let all hell break loose. We were due for a big one—one of our November windstorms in September—but storm or not, we had a job to do and Cernunnos had made it clear how important it was.
I brought my focus back to the task at hand, listening intently, trying to tune out the chanting in the center of the clearing. A group of Light Fae were there, surrounding a statue of Callan, one of the ancient Fae warriors who had single-handedly driven the Fomorians back during the first of the Tuatha-Fomorian Wars, back in Annwn. Unfortunately, they weren’t just here to honor him, but they were attempting to reach back through the mists of time to summon his spirit. And Cernunnos and Morgana had decided that would upset the balance, so we were here to stop it.
A low hooting of an owl echoed through the grove, then it called a second time, and a third.
Viktor’s signal. It was time to move.
I slowly began to shift my weight, taking care not to make any noise. As the chanting grew to a crescendo, I darted around the huckleberry bushes. Directly opposite me, across the clearing, Herne appeared from behind a cedar. To my left, Yutani broke into the clearing, and to my right, Viktor appeared. We raced toward the group of Fae. The moment they saw us, they sprang into high gear, upping their pace as they desperately tried to finish their ritual. They knew who we were, so they didn’t draw their weapons, but they did form a barrier between us and their priest.
I tackled the nearest one, rolling him to the ground. He put up a good fight, trying to keep me from breaking through. As I stared down into his face, he spit at me.
“Tralaeth,” he said, sneering.
“Thanks, you just made this easier.” I raised my fist and brought it down, smashing his nose. I felt a flicker of satisfaction as I felt the cartilage give way and break. As I pulled my hand away, he began to bleed heavily.
“Bitch.”
“Aww, now you’re sweet talking me? How lovely, but sorry, snookums, I’m busy.” I jumped up, giving him a not-so-gentle kick to roll him out of the way, and turned to the next one.
Viktor had already flung three of the Fae to the side—having a half-ogre on our side helped—and he was about to grab the next. Yutani had managed to take down two of them. Herne watched us, arching his eyebrows. Then, producing a scroll from his backpack, he held up the parchment, unrolling it. Once he had, he began to speak.
“By order of the Covenant, forged between Cernunnos, Lord of the Forest, Morgana, Goddess of the Fae, and the Dark and Light Courts of Fae, I order you to cease and desist your efforts. You are to stop, now.” His voice echoed through the clearing.
The priest who was attempting to summon the spirit hesitated, looking like he might ignore the command, but when Herne took a step toward him, he stopped. Yutani grabbed the scroll out of the priest’s hand and glanced at it.
“Almost through. We have to negate what he’s done so far,” the coyote shifter said. He frowned. “I’m not sure how. If we burn it, will it finish the spell or negate it?”
Herne clasped a hand on the priest’s shoulder as the rest of the Li
ght Fae moved to the side. “Tell us. Now.”
The priest smiled, the corners of his lips turning up in a self-satisfied smug. “What if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll haul your ass in front of Névé and tell her you refused to cooperate with the Wild Hunt. You know how well that will go over, don’t you?” Herne’s voice took on a gravelly edge and he glared at the man, looming over him.
The priest hesitated.
He’d better answer soon, I thought, if he doesn’t want the wrath of the gods on him. When pushed, Herne was hell on hooves.
The priest stared at him for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Burn the scroll.”
Herne motioned for Yutani to put the scroll on the center dais in front of the statue. As soon as Yutani had cleared out of the way, Herne stretched out his hand and wiggled his fingers. A flame flared from his hand, leaping to the scroll.
As the paper began to burn, the skies decided it was the perfect time to open up and drench us. But despite the downpour, the scroll continued to burn.
As the paper curled at the edges, I began to sense something that made me uneasy. The magick wasn’t lessening. In fact, I felt it begin to grow stronger. I glanced over at the Fae whose nose I had bloodied and realized that he—and most of his companions—had edged out of the circle and they were taking off through the woods.
Viktor jerked around as the trees around us rustled and was about to go after them, but Herne shook his head.
“Let them go.” He waited, staring at the scroll.
As it flared its last, there was a brilliant flash overhead as lightning forked through the sky, and thunder rolled along behind it. The next moment, the grove began to ripple with energy.
Crap, the fire hadn’t cancelled the spell—it had freed the magic to work!
“It finished the spell!”
But Herne seemed to realize what was happening at the same time as I had, because he lifted the priest in the air and slammed him to the ground.
“You fool! You dare to defy the edict of the Forest Lord?” Herne seemed to grow, though I realized it was his astral form taking shape, rising a good ten feet above his actual body. The priest suddenly seemed to realize what hell he had let himself in for and he fell to his knees in front of Herne.
“I’m sorry. Milord, please, forgive me—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Herne raised his head, looking around the forest. “Where is the spirit now? What were you going to—” He paused as the statue at the back of the dais began to shift and morph.
As the rain drenched us, I gazed steadily at the statue, trying to pinpoint what was happening. Then I knew. The spell hadn’t just summoned the spirit. It had given him form again. He was anchoring into the statue, which was shifting to life.
I darted forward, dagger raised, and Viktor and Yutani joined me. We couldn’t allow the ancient Fae warrior to get free. Cernunnos had assured us that it would cause havoc in the world should the spirit be set free, leading to outright war between the Fomorian giants and the Fae, which would throw humans and everybody else right into the middle.
As the cloud of energy around statue began to swirl, I held my gaze steady. We had to return Callan to the past. I prayed that the bronze of the statue would shift into flesh. It was a lot easier to kill a creature of flesh and blood rather than a metal golem.
“Ember, are you ready?” Viktor asked.
“I hope so,” I answered, holding my gaze firm. I was scared, yes, but Viktor was a half-ogre and he was strong. And Yutani was quick.
Herne slapped a pair of iron cuffs on the Fae priest, who began to scream from the pain, and tossed him to the ground, out of the way. “You’d better stay put, if you know what’s good for you,” he said to the man as he joined us.
As the energy swirled and finally settled, the statue—which was of a tall, lithe man who carried a massive sword—took on the color of flesh, the structure of bone and muscle. Another bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating the grove, and then as it died, the statue was suddenly a man, eyeing us keenly.
He said nothing, simply brought his sword to bear. I realized I was no match for him at this point. My dagger was for up close and personal encounters, not for jabbing at arm’s length when a sword was holding me at bay. I broke off and darted to the side, intending to veer behind him, to attack from there.
Wielding a katana, Yutani froze in his stance, waiting. He was turned to the side, his back knee bent forward, and his front leg bracing his body, as he held the katana ready near his back hip, his gaze glued on Callan, the statue brought to life.
Viktor brought his sword up, easing toward the warrior.
Callan looked somewhat confused, but he prepared for attack.
Yutani began to circle around him as Viktor kept him engaged from the front. The tension as they jockeyed for position was so thick I could spread it like butter. But then, as Viktor took another step forward, the Fae warrior decided to meet him head on, and he swung his sword, engaging the half-ogre’s blade.
They met, metal kissing metal, as the sound of their blades clashed through the clearing. Viktor was bigger and stronger than the warrior, but Callan was quick and sure-footed. Yutani moved in from the side, bringing his katana to bear. The blade swept through the warrior’s side but Callan laughed.
I blinked. Yutani’s bite had drawn no blood. So Callan wasn’t fully flesh and blood, even though he looked like it.
Viktor drove hard, right to left to right again, forcing Callan back toward Yutani, but the warrior suddenly ducked to the side, darting away from both of them. He was headed my way.
Instinctively I brought my dagger up, but then realized Callan was sweeping his blade in front of him and I’d be caught in its trajectory. I dove to the side, coming up into a crouch on my heels as he passed. I was about to go after him when he reached the boundaries of the clearing and—with another laugh—he shimmered out of sight, vanishing as though he had never existed.
I glanced toward where the statue had been. It was gone.
“Where… So… Did he escape?” Viktor asked.
Back to his normal form and size, Herne hauled the priest to his feet. He was the only one of the Light Fae remaining in the grove.
“What happened to Callan? Where did he go?” He lifted the hapless man up off the ground, gripping him by his throat as he slammed him against a tree.
“I don’t know. I only know that I was supposed to summon him.” The priest squirmed, trying to free himself. “The iron burns.”
“You do realize that I’m taking you before Cernunnos?” Herne once again tossed him to the ground. “My father’s going to throw you in irons that will make these cuffs seem like a love tap. If you won’t talk to us, you’ll talk to him.”
The priest whimpered but Herne had had enough. He motioned to the rest of us. “Come on. We have to get back to the office.”
“We have to catch Callan—” Viktor started, but Herne waved him off.
He was angry, yes, but I knew that he was mostly angry with himself for believing the priest’s story. Cernunnos wasn’t going to let his son get off easy for this one. Herne was going to get his ass handed to him on a platter.
As we packed up our gear, I glanced back at the forest. A Fae warrior’s spirit was now running around loose in Seattle. We had been told to prevent him from manifesting back into this world and we’d screwed that up royal. Cernunnos was going to light a fire under all of us for this one. And on top of everything, I felt cramps coming on.
Lovely—just what I needed on top of everything. My period.
ANGEL GLANCED UP as we dragged our butts into the office. The elevator opened into the reception area, and we slogged into the room like a pack of drowned rats. We were all soaked through to the skin. We had worn light jackets, given how much stealth had been required, and none of them measured up to the pouring rain that was now saturating the ground outside. Herne had taken the priest strai
ght to Cernunnos’s, so I had ridden back with Viktor and Yutani.
The Wild Hunt Agency was Herne’s baby, but the company supported all of us. A cross between a divine law enforcement agency and a bounty hunter’s squad, the Wild Hunt was one of many similar operations across the world.
Supervised by Herne’s mother and father—Morgana, a demi-goddess of the Sea and of the Fae, and Cernunnos, Lord of the Forest—we were in charge of preventing wars between the Dark and Light Fae from spilling over into the mortal world. The two factions were both petty, belligerent, elitist, and too smart for their own good. And unfortunately, I was caught between the two. My mother had been born Light Fae, and my father came from the Dark side. I was rejected by both heritages.
“Hey, Ember.” Angel stared at me as I dragged my sorry ass out of the elevator, into the waiting room. “I got a call from…oh good grief. You’re soaked. You all are.” Angel was my best friend and roommate. Human, she was an empath of significant degree. She frowned, pointing to the carpet. “You’re tracking mud on the carpet. Take off your shoes, all of you.”
I grumbled, but sat down in the waiting area to untie my sneakers. I should have worn boots. Boots kept my feet dry, but I thought I’d give my new silver-tone sneakers a chance. Now they were covered with mud and gunk, and they were wet both inside and out. So far, I wasn’t impressed with them.
Viktor and Yutani quickly joined me. Over the past few months, as Angel and I both grew more confident with our places in the agency, she had blossomed out as the office administrator and now she bossed everyone around. Even Herne jumped to her commands.
She vanished into the back, then returned with a mat, which she placed on the other side of the waiting area. “Put your shoes on that until they’re dry and you can brush off the mud. Here, I brought towels.” She handed each of us a towel and we began to dry our faces and hair.
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