“These meddlesome sorcerers—”
“He’s a necromancer, actually.” I realized I’d interrupted when he flashed me an irritable look.
“It makes no matter. Necromancer, sorcerer . . . they are meddling with forces they know nothing about. There’s no respect left in the world for magic. I think something needs to be done about that. But back to your question . . . So you have a sword with a spirit trapped in it, and you want to keep that spirit trapped in it. But the sword disappeared and you think a necromancer”—here he gave me another look with a gently reprimanding smile—“stole it. And you think he wants to unleash the dead king to lead an army of the dead that he might be raising. That about right?”
“That’s about right.” And you’re a jerk.
But I kept my mouth shut on the latter thought. No need antagonizing someone on our side, even if he was full of himself. On the other hand, he was the Merlin and had a right to his ego. With a sigh, I thought that I was getting far too diplomatic. I didn’t want to see the other side of the debate, but it seemed to be coming with experience. I wasn’t at “wisdom” level yet, but I was definitely less naïve than I’d been a few years back.
The Merlin—his name was Myrddin, but nobody other than Aeval and Titania called him that—snapped his fingers and one of the servant girls came running. “More tea and cakes for our guests, please.”
She curtseyed and ran off, looking a little frightened. I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t like having to wait on him either, though I was pretty sure he wasn’t a cruel man. He was just abrupt and condescending.
“I have been having a premonition all day that the incoming storm will make things worse.” I waited for him to make some snarky comment to me again, but this time, he sat down next to me.
“What do you mean?” He didn’t sound snarky.
I told him about the looming sense of doom that had been hanging over me. “I have no idea what it means. All I know is that ever since I heard about the storm coming in, I’ve been worried about how it will affect the sword and Einar. I can’t tell you why . . . it’s just a feeling. But I’ve learned not to ignore my intuition.”
“And well you do so.” The Merlin looked over at the fire, and the reflection of the flames danced in his eyes. “Storms are like power chargers for necromancers and sorcerers. Even witches, as Camille can tell you. All of us who work with the natural elements gain power from lightning and wind and rain—even snow. It amps us up. If this man has even a rudimentary knowledge of how to free the soul from the sword, the storm may give him an extra boost in being able to do so. You may be sensing that possibility.”
“Can you find out where the sword is? Do you have any way of doing so? Camille tried a spell of Finding on Aslo, but it didn’t quite work out.”
Myrddin frowned, pursing his lips as the servant girl brought in more tea and cakes. After she left, he continued. “I do have a way of possibly leading you to the sword, but I need to meet the lad. The young man who is linked to it by blood.”
“Leif? Why him?” Camille leaned forward, an eager look in her eye.
“Because he bears a link to the soul locked within the sword. There is both a blood tie there and a link via the family curse. That reinforces my chances of finding him. The links are a level deep in the spirit matrix.”
Camille looked as puzzled as I felt. “What do you mean, spirit matrix?”
Myrddin closed his eyes and held out his hands. As we watched, a mist rose between them, and then the shape of a honeycomb formed. It wasn’t an actual honeycomb, though, no bees or dripping honey, but rather, a diagram. The colors were blue and green, silver and purple, and they sparkled. Then, Myrddin shifted his hands and the diagram became three-dimensional, elongating out. It twisted, a lot like a strand of DNA, and though the image vanished into the mist rolling out from between his palms, I knew it kept going on either side.
“This is the spirit matrix. Each one of those honeycomb sides? Each point where it intersects another line? That’s a point where souls intersect. The universe is like a web, yes, in a sense. But soul matrixes bind every being that has come from the same soil, the same source. Animals, people, plants, everything that originated here on this planet—will connect to the planet’s soul matrix.”
“What about other worlds? Other realms?”
“There will be connections through parallel worlds, yes. The two of you? Are gateways where the soul matrixes from Otherworld and Earthside meet. Leif and his ancestor will be close together on the matrix—they are bound tightly by blood, just as you two would be close together.” With a soft sigh, he clapped his hands and the image vanished, the mist dissipating into the room.
“Everything really is connected, isn’t it?” Camille looked around the room. “Even on an infinitesimal level, there will be some connection between some water skipper bug and . . . oh . . . the seers of Aladril back in OW.”
“Yes, everything connects. Everything is linked. So bring me Leif, and I can probably trace the sword because the spirit of his ancestor is directly connected to it. But . . .” The Merlin stood. “Not tonight. The storm is rising and you had better go home while it’s safe.”
“But if we don’t find out, the storm may enable Einar to escape.” I knew that it was crazy, trying to get Leif and the Merlin together, but the push to take care of this now was overwhelming.
Myrddin rested his hand on my shoulder. “Delilah, patience. That may well be the chance we take, but trust me, my instinct tells me that you should go home. The storm is rising, and it will be a wild night. I am needed here. With Morgaine out of action . . .” His words drifted off.
“How is she?” Camille wanted to go see her—I could see that in her face, but the last time she’d asked, Aeval had told her it was better to wait.
“Still silent. I know you blame me for what happened, but destiny will unfold its hand when it is ready. Whether I gave the nudge or someone else, what happened would have eventually played out, regardless of whether I was there.” He motioned for the serving girls. “Their coats, please. And make certain a buggy is here to return them to the gate.”
“Has she said anything? Even a word?” As much as I had mistrusted Morgaine, her fate seemed horribly cruel, even for her. And with what we’d found out about her, Mordred, and Arthur, I no longer felt so unkindly toward her.
But the Merlin shook his head. “Her maids make sure she’s dressed and undressed, bathed and cleaned. They feed her, take her out for walks. But she’s retreated deep within her mind. Aeval will not let me see if I can help her.”
“Can you? Help her?” Camille slid into her coat. It looked dry, which seemed impossible for as wet as it had been. But my own coat was also dry.
Myrddin shrugged. “I don’t honestly know if I can reach her. I would be willing to try, but I cannot go against Aeval’s wishes. The Courts are her domain, not mine. Hers and Titania’s. I will be returning to England soon, for a time. I will be flying in an airplane. Your world today? So many marvels. And so many from the past, now dust and lost to memory.”
He walked us to the door. “Tomorrow, after the storm passes, contact your friend Leif, and then bring him here tomorrow, if all goes well.”
We climbed in the buggy and headed back to the gate. I waited till we were out of earshot, then turned to Camille. “Why won’t Aeval let him try to help Morgaine?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea. I didn’t even know it was an option. I have a lot of questions for Aeval. I’ll be coming out for the New Moon, so I think I have to have a little chat with the Queen of Shadow and Night. If I can keep my head from being chewed off.”
By the time we reached home, it was going on eight and the wind was still puttering, but there was an uneasy feel to the air, that pre-storm rustling that sets everybody on edge and raises the hair on your arms. I made sure to park the Jeep by Camille’s Lexus, but
Menolly’s Mustang was nowhere in sight. Other cars were there—Vanzir’s beater and Morio’s SUV—but Chase’s car and Nerissa’s were also gone.
“I know that Nerissa is sleeping down at the station in case of any emergencies. As crisis counselor for the FH-CSI, she kind of has to. I guess Chase decided to stay, too.” I frowned. “I wish they were both here, though.”
“You and me both.” Camille glanced around, then shrugged out of her coat. The rain had let up again, and the clouds parted, but they were boiling across the night sky. “It’s clammy—if it were summer, it would be muggy. Can you feel the crackle in the air? It’s making me want to jump.”
“Maybe some playtime with the guys?” Sex relaxed her, and she seemed to be as tense as I felt.
“No, I think . . . I want to be alert tonight. I want to rest, but I don’t want my attention caught up in anything. I think I’m feeling what you were. The premonition.” She glanced at the house. “Let’s get inside and see if Shade is back.”
I hung back.
She turned around. “Don’t you want to see him?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “But what if he’s not home yet? What if he’s home with worse news than we expected? I don’t know how much more I can take today.” I leaned against the porch railing. “I’m strong, Camille, but I think I’ve reached my limit right now. So much has happened, and I just need a break. Some downtime. But we never get any.”
“I know, Kitten. I know.” She wrapped her arm through mine and we stood there, staring at the sky as the clouds began building again. “I wish we could take a vacation from all of this. The gods know, we need one. But . . . I think right now . . . the best we can manage is a good movie now and then, a bowl of popcorn . . . some cookies . . . a hug from our loved ones. Simple joys. They can make a world of difference.”
We watched the sky for another few minutes until first one drop, then another, and the rain came tumbling down again. A flash of blue lightning off to the east lit up the horizon. We counted under our breath but the roll of thunder never came.
“Still a little ways out.”
“It won’t be for long.” Camille shook the rain off her face. “Come on, let’s get inside and wait for the storm.”
As we headed up the porch steps, the door opened. There stood Shade. He opened his arms and I flew into his embrace. The storm was on the way, but my love was home.
Chapter 15
“Shade!” I buried my face in his neck. He kissed my cheek, then pulled me inside. Camille followed. The house smelled like a food court. Hanna had apparently continued to cook. A fire was crackling in the fireplace and everything seemed incredibly warm and cozy. Smoky was in one of the armchairs, reading. He motioned for Camille to join him. She curled up in his lap.
Roz and Vanzir were playing some video game together. Trillian’s voice could be heard from the kitchen—he was helping Hanna out. Morio was nowhere to be seen.
I turned to Shade, not wanting to break the spell that seemed to hover over the family at this moment. It would be so nice to just grab some dinner, curl up, and watch TV. But . . .
“What happened? What did they say?” I took his hands, leading him over to the sofa. As I sat down, Shade slid in beside me. I couldn’t read his face, couldn’t tell whether it was good news or bad.
“Mallen is right.” He let out a slow breath. “I’ve lost all my Stradolan powers. I’m no longer a shadow walker by nature. By birth, yes . . . but by nature . . . no. My dragon side hasn’t been affected . . . much.” The way he stressed the last word sent a chill through me. That meant there had been some damage to that side of him, too.
By now, Camille, Smoky, and the others were listening, too. I steeled myself, not certain just how hard this was going to be. Shade was strong, but something of this magnitude couldn’t just be passed off with an “oh well.”
“And . . . ?” I waited.
“My dragon side is still functioning normally, mostly. But . . . I no longer can travel to the Netherworld in my Stradolan form. I have to take the shape of my shadow dragon self if I want to visit there without outside help. Once I’m there, I can shift out of dragon form, but I have to shift back in order to leave. I found that out the hard way today when I left here. Ended up bounced abruptly into the Dragon Reaches when I tried to make it to the Netherworld. I shifted form there and tried as a shadow dragon, and that time, I managed it.”
I was confused. “But how does that affect your dragon self?”
“Shadow dragons have a direct connection to the dead. I no longer have such a strong connection. I’m a shadow dragon who . . . is mainly just a dragon. My death magic has been stripped away from both sides. I can still fly, I can hide in the shadows better than most people, I can breathe fire. But all the magic that goes with my breed? It’s gone. The devil-wraith sucked it out of me.”
Every sound in the room fell away. Camille silently slipped out of Smoky’s lap and moved to a chair next to him.
Smoky leaned forward, intent on Shade. “You had tests done in the Netherworld. What about the Dragon Reaches? Maybe our healers . . .”
“I talked to them, too. The Stradolan sent me back to the Dragon Reaches after they were done testing me. There’s no cure, no way to rewire me. I’m . . . effectively neutered when it comes to magic, except for my basic dragon heritage. And I’m only half-dragon, so even that is limited.”
The look on his face said what he would not—Shade was devastated. I could see it in his eyes, though his voice was steady. I squeezed his hand, unsure of what to say. Nothing I could do would make anything easier; nothing I could do would make it better.
Vanzir and Roz slowly put down their joysticks and waited for someone to give them a cue. Camille raised her hand to them and shook her head.
Smoky stood. “Shade, come outside with me. We’ll have a little chat.”
My first instinct was to insist on going with them, but one look at Smoky stopped that. He gently shook his head when I moved to follow them. As they left the room, Camille crossed to my side and put her hand on my arm.
“Leave them. They’re both dragon. If anybody can help Shade cope with this, Smoky can. You need to be there with your love and your passion, to prove that he’s still the man he was. Let Smoky take care of dealing with the intricacies of dragonhood.” She took my hand and led me into the kitchen. Hanna was cleaning the kitchen and laying out paper plates and cups on one of the counters. She’d also made a huge pot of coffee, which was sitting on the stove.
“Dinner is ready. The paper plates are for later, just in case the power goes out and hot water is limited.”
Trillian was laying the food out on the table—fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and coleslaw. “I was about to call you all to dinner,” he said, then paused as he looked over our way. “What’s wrong? You both look like you’ve seen another ghost.”
“Have you talked to Shade yet?” Camille kissed him, then poured milk in a mug and nuked it till it was warm. She motioned for me to sit down.
Trillian shook his head. “No, he arrived just before you did. Bad news?”
I accepted the milk and slowly began to fill my plate. I still wanted to be out there, talking to Shade, but I knew that at this point, I’d just babble and make things worse. Smoky was right to intervene.
“Yeah.” I picked at the breading on the chicken. It was delicious as usual. Vanzir and Roz chose that moment to join us, and Morio clattered down the stairs and into the room.
“Where’s Menolly? She didn’t go to the bar, did she? Not with the incoming storm?” Camille glanced around.
“Yeah, she did.” Roz loaded up his plate. “She said they were going to open for a while and see how things went. She promised to close down early if things get hairy.”
“She should have just closed for the night.” Camille looked vexed. She glanced around. “Well, whil
e the rest of us are here . . . Shade did get some bad news. Smoky’s talking to him now.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll tell them. It’s my responsibility.” I told Trillian, Hanna, and Morio what Shade had said. Better I do it than he have to go through it all again when he and Smoky came in.
“How should we react?” Roz buttered a roll and heaped coleslaw on it. He liked salad sandwiches, which confused the hell out of me, but then I wasn’t friends with anything green unless it had an M on it or was a gummy-something. “In the living room, I wasn’t sure if I should say anything.”
“It’s not like he’s emasculated.” Camille passed around the mashed potatoes.
“Maybe not, but he’s lost an entire part of his heritage. I still have no idea how his family reacted.” I didn’t mean to snap at her, but truth was, even I had no clue what to do. I might be growing into my diplomacy but that didn’t mean I was good at handling situations like this, and I’d reached the saturation point. I crossed to the window and glanced outside. Smoky and Shade were standing out there, in the middle of the pouring rain, looking like they were having a heart-to-heart. I turned back to the others.
“I don’t know what to do. When Menolly was turned, it was such a shock that we were all numb for months on end. Even when she returned home, we all walked on eggshells around her for a couple of years.”
Camille leaned back in her chair. “Let’s face it, what Dredge did to Menolly? Not a comparison. Dredge raped her; he tortured her for hours. He killed her and turned her. You have to admit, that’s far worse than what’s happened to Shade. He’s still alive, Delilah, and walking, and he still has his dragon heritage. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but the truth is: Yes, this is bad, but it could be so much worse.”
I wanted to argue, but she was right and I knew it. “Shade’s my fiancé, and I love him. I want to be supportive. I don’t want to screw up. What do I say? How do I say it? How do I not say something stupid that will hurt him?”
Panther Prowling Page 23