Portents

by Kelley Armstrong

  “Sounds like?” he prompted.

  “Fire,” she murmured.

  He stiffened. “It sounds like fire?”

  “No, sorry. I’m skipping ahead. The shadows are sparking Arawn’s fears, literally. His memories of the fire Matilda died in. He’s afraid of losing her to the shadows.”

  “Again. Losing her to them again,” he said.

  She nodded. “What exactly did he lose her to?”

  “The fire?”

  She shook her head, and she said something, but her words oddly cut out, like a bad phone connection. Swallowed by the bells and the echo and the lapping of the water, he decided, and he said, “What was that?”

  “—holes, right?”

  He shook his head sharply, like trying to knock water from his ears. That’s what it seemed like now, not the sounds of the cavern smothering her words, but something muffling them.

  Muffled. Shrouded.

  Shrouds . . .

  His brain snagged on the word. Why?

  Liv was still talking, “That’s what”—muffled—“said they are. Like Glooscap’s”—muffled—“holes.”

  Get her out.

  Get her out now.

  “Good idea,” he said quickly. “We’ll discuss it as soon as we’re—”

  Liv disappeared.

  Ricky

  Ricky lunged, shouting, “No!” his voice echoing through the cave, his brain imagining the shadows overtaking Liv, consuming her. But it only took a split second to realize that wasn’t what he’d seen at all. She’d just vanished. There one second, gone the next.

  Swallowed by a vision.

  Don’t panic. Stay where you are. She’s still here. This has happened before, and the only person who stumbled into danger because of it was you.

  Ricky squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back Arawn’s panic.

  Not my panic. Yours.

  Either way, not helpful. Ricky gulped deep breaths. Liv was still here. Right here. Shrouded in a vision.

  Shroud . . .

  That word. That damned word.

  Ricky started forward, his hands sweeping over the rocky floor.

  Don’t go far.

  Ah, being helpful now. Awesome.

  A noise had him jumping, “Liv?” on his lips. But when he turned, he saw only the shadows oozing along the walls. Then the sound came again.

  A whisper. A voice.

  “Liv?”

  It wasn’t her. In his gut, he knew it wasn’t. When he focused, he could hear the whispers. Coming from the shadows.

  He took one careful crawling step toward them, straining for Arawn to warn him back.

  Nothing.

  He kept going, and as he moved, he monitored his senses the way he would monitor his bike’s performance as he rode. Yep, another of his shitty metaphors. But the gist of it was there. He checked sight and sound, like he’d test the wind direction and road surface, making sure nothing surprised him. But he also kept his attention on his extrasensory perception, as he would on his bike’s motor, trying to sense anything not quite right.

  He detected nothing, though. Now that Liv had vanished, the shadows no longer gave him that sense of urgent dread, like they had been connected to her and her alone. In fact, as he drew closer to the wall, the shadows retreated, and it felt not so much as if they scurried out of his way but rather parted in respect. As they did, he noticed something pale amongst them, and he remembered Liv looking over here before he insisted they leave.

  Maybe, if they were separated, she’d return to see what she’d spotted. He veered. As the shadows retreated, he could see pale stripes against black. He reached out and found himself not touching a stripe, but a strip, hard and cool to the touch. His fingers wrapped around—

  Bone. It was a rib cage propped against the wall, shadows weaving through it, enshrouding it.

  Shroud.

  Yes!

  Shroud. Dead. Death. That’s the connection his brain had been trying to make.

  He heard Liv’s voice again, talking about what Arawn was afraid of, losing Matilda to the shadows.

  Not losing her to the fire. Losing her to death.

  Liv had been saying something about holes and Glooscap’s Cave.

  Fairy holes. The passage to the underworld, to the afterlife.

  He peered down the seemingly endless passage to that shrouded glow at the end. Where Liv had seen a fae castle.

  The bells. She said they sounded like something else, and he heard it now. Not bells but music. Music and laughter. He recalled stories of fairy circles, luring the unwary with music and laughter. Except not actively luring them. That’s the last thing real fae would want. Inadvertently enticing humans with the sounds of the fae world. Sounds and sights, music and castles.

  A shadow slipped past, and again he caught a whisper.

  The whispers of shadows. The whispers of . . .

  His gaze moved to the skeleton.

  Whispers of death.

  Whispers of the dead.

  He saw again the shadows wrapping around Liv’s leg, and he jerked around with, “Liv!”

  Something moved in the shadows, jumping as if startled. Something pale and alive. Ricky lunged and grabbed, and he felt his fingers wrap around flesh. When he yanked, he caught a glimpse of something not quite human. The size of a small woman, with pale hair and humanoid features, but claws and sharp teeth, snapping as he yanked its leg. When his grip only tightened, the figure flickered, glamour falling into place, and he had his finger wrapped around the leg of a woman about Liv’s age, with flowing blond hair and wide, frightened green eyes. Liv’s eyes, and he knew that was no coincidence.

  “Yeah, no,” he said. “The scared kitten look isn’t going to work. Nor is taking on my girlfriend’s eyes. Now where is she?”

  “I-I don’t know—”

  “Cut the bullshit. I just saw you. The real you. The fact that I’m not running, screaming, should suggest I know what you are, so don’t pull the innocent act. I came here with someone. I want her back. Now.”

  The fae eased around, not trying to slip from his grasp, but moving closer, brushing her small breasts against him.

  “Yeah, also no. You’ve seen my girlfriend. Another naked girl is not going to tempt me.”

  She arched her back, and her breasts grew, and Ricky let out a laugh. “Uh, no. That wasn’t what I meant. At all. You can turn into a supermodel. It’s not gonna tempt me. Now I’m being nice, giving you a chance to tell me where Liv is before I get a little less nice.”

  The fae slid her fingers across his thigh, heading for a very obvious goal.

  “What part of no isn’t clear?” he said as he grabbed her hand.

  “You liked it before.”

  “Yeah, because I thought you were my girlfriend. Then I liked it because my girlfriend thought it was hot. You know what’s missing in this scenario? My girlfriend. Now tell me where—”

  “We don’t need her,” the fae said, twisting to tickle her tongue up his chest. “It will be better without her. Much better. She doesn’t ever need to know. You’ll like that. Men always like that.”

  “Yeah, no, not all. See that?” He pointed down. “The only thing that’s rising is my temper. With every second that passes”—he wrenched her arm, making her hiss—“I get more pissed off. Touch me again, and I’ll break your wrist. If you don’t know where Liv is, then get the fuck out of my way.”

  “She went in.”

  “In?”

  The fae pointed into the cavern, into the depths and the glow, and Ricky’s gut twisted, as Arawn’s old terror whipped through him.

  “No,” he said, forcing the fear back. “She would not go that way. Ever.”

  “But she did.”

  Arawn’s terror surged, and without even realizing what he was doing, Ricky twisted her arm up hard, pulling her to him. When he spoke, his voice had changed, deeper, harsher, older. “She did not, and you will tell me where she is, or I will crush every bone in your body.”<
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  The fae stared at him. Just stared, her mouth working. Finally, she whispered, “It cannot be. It isn’t possible.”

  “Not possible to crush you? Oh, I can. And I will.”

  “Arawn,” she said, breathing the word, her eyes wide. “My Lord.”

  Ricky blinked. Well, okay, if that worked, sure. He didn’t mind using the old guy to get Liv back.

  “Y—” He only got out the first sound when Arawn’s voice murmured, Perhaps not.

  Ricky hesitated.

  It seems unwise.

  Fine.

  Also, old guy? Truly?

  “What did you call me?” he said to the fae, and his voice had returned to normal.

  “Arawn?” she said, uncertainly now, her eyes searching his.

  “Ar-oon? What the fuck is that?” he said. “You’re stalling. Either you tell me—”

  “I saw her.”

  “Well, good. That’s step one. Step two?”

  “She was leaving.”

  He wrenched her arm, making her hiss again.

  “She was leaving. She was.”

  “You’re just saying that because you want me gone. You are going to tell me the truth or . . .” He stumbled on Arawn’s threat. “I’ll crush every bone in your body.”

  Ricky felt Arawn’s sigh ripple through his head. Perhaps stick with simply breaking wrists. That seems more your style, boy.

  Either way, the fae didn’t seem to realize the insincerity of the threat and began writhing, her voice taking on a sharp whine. “She left. I tell you, she left. I will accompany you and show you where—”

  A whisper behind him. A shadow snaking toward the ledge. That whisper coming clear. It is her. The lady.

  Ricky dropped the fae and shot for the ledge just as Liv broke through the surface. The shadows slid toward her. With a sweep of his arm, they fell back, and he heard the whispers, No harm, my Lord. We would do her no harm, but his heart pounded too hard to pay them heed.

  He scrambled across the rock, sending the shadows scattering as Liv said, “The fae!” and he turned to see the fae bolting. He didn’t go after her, though, didn’t care if the shadows swore no harm to Liv. Arawn wouldn’t let him take that chance.

  Ricky reached for Liv, but she shot past him, leaping onto the ledge and running, hunched over, after the fae.

  Running into the cavern.

  Running toward the glow and the music and the laughter.

  And death.

  “No!”

  Arawn’s fear, Arawn’s voice, booming through the cavern, enough to send the shadows skittering and gibbering. Enough for the fae to turn, wide-eyed, her lips parting with, “Fy arglwydd?”

  Liv dove and grabbed the fae by the ankle.

  Liv

  “Really?” I said to Ricky as I held the fae’s ankle. “I may hate losing my prey, but I wasn’t going to pursue her into the afterlife.” I peered into the dark. “Presuming that’s what it is.”

  “Move back,” Ricky said, his voice thick.

  I glanced at him and saw fear in his eyes, and he added a please, but he didn’t need to. I saw that look and backed up, hauling the fae with me.

  “Sorry if I spooked you,” I said. “When we got separated by a vision, I knew you’d wanted me to leave, so that’s what I did.”

  “See?” the fae said, her voice shrill. “I told you she left. You did not believe me.”

  “He didn’t believe a fae? Shocking. It not like they’ve ever lied to us before.”

  “You know what I am,” she said, her eyes narrowing. Then she looked at Ricky and hunger touched her eyes. Which was totally understandable, given that he was a hot, naked guy, but it wasn’t that kind of hunger. It was a look that sent a chill up my spine. I remembered what she’d called him. Fy arglwydd. Welsh for my Lord. Lord of the Otherworld.

  “Arawn,” she said. “You told me you were not Arawn. You lied.”

  “Ar-oon?” I said. “What’s an ar-oon?”

  “Exactly what I asked,” Ricky said. “Seems to be more of that foreign shit it talks.”

  “It?” the fae said indignantly. “I am not an it.”

  Ricky crawled over, rubbing his shoulder and wincing.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, just scraped it up charging after you.”

  “Trust me a little more,” I said. “So bring me up to speed on the conversation. I only caught the tail end. I heard you guys talking and wanted to be sure I wasn’t, you know, interrupting anything.”

  I waggled my brows. He gave me a look and said, “Trust me a little more.”

  “Hey, I gave permission.”

  “Yeah, with you around. Whole different thing. And if you’re not around? I’m not interested.”

  “Saw those sharp teeth, huh?”

  He laughed. “No, I was just kinda more worried about getting you back. That was pretty much the entirety of the conversation. Where is she? Tell me where she is. Tell me now or else. Etcetera, etcetera.”

  “I did tell you,” the fae said. “I told the truth.”

  “Yeah, after you said she’d gone thataway.” He pointed deeper into the cavern. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell us what’s in there.”

  “This is a cave. In there?” She shrugged. “More cave. If you want to see, you only need to enter.”

  “Yeah, no thanks.” Ricky glanced into the shadows, and I saw what I’d spotted before: the rib cage of a skeleton.

  “Did you tell him to go exploring?” Ricky pointed at the remains. “Or just drown and leave him there?”

  “I did not drown him,” she said. “He came into the cavern, and he died. I moved his body there to warn others.”

  “So you’re the lady of the lake,” I said. “Luring others into your lair.”

  “Luring?” More indignation as she waved at the corpse. “How is that luring?”

  “A skeleton in an underwater cavern is virtually a flashing Adventure Here sign.”

  Her face screwed up. “I do not understand.”

  “To give her the benefit of the doubt,” Ricky said. “Not everyone sees a dead body as a call to adventure.”

  “Weird.”

  “I know.”

  I turned to the fae, still flat on her stomach, looking over her shoulder at us. “So you’re scaring people off with spooky noises and underwater shenanigans and skeletal remains. Scaring them off from whatever is in there.”

  “My home. That is all.”

  “But despite the fact you’re keeping people away, I’m quite free to investigate.”

  “I cannot stop you.”

  “Liv . . .” Ricky said.

  “Trust me, remember?” I turned back to the fae. “You don’t want unsuspecting humans going in there, but you’re fine with us going in, given that we’re currently a thorn in your side and possibly also dangerous. Which means if we go in there, we aren’t coming out. You’re not sadistic enough to enjoy sending random humans to their deaths, but you’re okay doing it to save yourself some inconvenience.” I peered into the cavern again. “Fairy hole.”

  “I do not know what—”

  “Fine, you cannot confirm nor deny. Whatever. We’ve figured it out. And as much as I’d love to know more, I’m a little less self-absorbed than a full-blooded fae. We’re here for another reason. Something you stole from the humans.”

  She tensed, and Ricky grunted, as if to say, That confirms it. Which it did, thankfully, because while I don’t consider myself particularly heroic, I did like the idea of returning a lost baby to its mother.

  “I do not know what—”

  “Save it,” I said. “If you want plausible deniability, you need to work on your poker face.”

  Her expression said she had no idea what that meant.

  “You stole—” I began.

  “They did not want it,” she said. “I did.”

  “Yes, actually, they wanted it very much, and it’s not for you to decide otherwise. We need her back.”

&nb
sp; “No. She is mine.”

  Ricky lunged. His hand went around the fae’s neck, pushing her face into the rock hard enough to make me wince. She let out a shriek, flailing, her glamour slipping, hands turning claw-like as they scrabbled against the stone. The shadows whispered and swirled but stayed back. Stayed well back.

  “You want us gone,” Ricky said. “We want to be gone. But we are not leaving without getting what we came for, and if you don’t take us to her, we’ll bring a shitload of trouble down on your little hideaway here. You think you’ve scared off the humans? People like curses. They like stories of haunted places. They like to whisper of the place no one dares go. But that’s a game they play to amuse themselves. If we tell them their lost baby is here, they will descend with torches and fury.”

  He leaned into her ear. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? You’re old enough to know. You’ve had them come before, in the old world. That’s why you fled here. That’s why you’re very careful about how you keep them away. Give them ghost stories, but do not actually make them afraid, or they’ll drive you out and kill you.”

  The fae whimpered. “They did not want her. I did. I am good to her.”

  Ricky eased up. “I get that, but you misunderstood, and she’s not yours to keep. Now take us to her.”

  The fae led us from the cave. Once we got out, she said, “You will want to dress first. It is cold.”

  “We’re good,” Ricky said. “And we’re not giving you a chance to run.”

  “I cannot keep her underground,” the fae said as she led us into the forest. “She is not big enough. It would be dangerous taking her under the water.”

  “It would.”

  “You will find out if they want her, yes?” she said. “I think you are mistaken. I heard them say they did not.”

  “We’ll make sure of that,” I said. I could only hope that what the fae overheard was a couple of young parents, temporarily frustrated. Parenting can’t be easy, especially at that age, and there must be moments of exhaustion and frustration and even regret.

  “If they do not want her, you will bring her back?”

  I murmured something noncommittal.

  “I am good to her,” the fae said, as if sensing my doubt. “I took care of her. I kept her warm and fed, and I played with her, and she hardly even whimpers.”