. . .
Looking up at the sky, Piper could only be glad that they were leaving shortly. Dark clouds stretched from horizon to horizon, heavy with impending rain. The early morning light struggled to reach the ground. In the distance, a slow roll of thunder cut through the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze.
She glanced over the wall of trees that lined the crumbling highway, a small shiver running down her spine. The last time she’d been out here, they’d been with Miysis and his men, about to visit the Overworld. This wasn’t the exact same spot, but it was close. The ley line was a few minutes’ walk through the forest.
“Are you ready for this?”
She looked over as Uncle Calder walked around the front of the van to join her at the edge of the trees. He squinted at the gloomy sky.
“I guess so,” she replied. “Mom can be a bit ... unpredictable.”
He smiled. “If anyone can get her to listen, it’s you.”
“Let’s hope.”
Calder had volunteered to drive them out to the ley line at dawn. They’d arrived ten minutes ago. Kiev and Ash had gone ahead to make the first run through the line. Kiev was the only one of the daemons who knew the Fairglen ley line, hence why Ash had flown her back to Brinford last time. Once Kiev had shown Ash the way, the two of them would bring the rest of them through.
She glanced through the window of the van. Lyre was snoring in the backseat, none too pleased about the early hour. Seiya stood a little ways down the road, staring at nothing with her dragonet on her shoulder. Piper glanced at the girl, her brow furrowing.
The bushes rustled and Ash stepped out of the trees. Zwi was perched on his head, her tail looped around his neck. Kiev ducked out of the brush behind him and Piper blinked. A dragonet’s head was poking over his shoulder, golden eyes warily darting from Piper to Calder. It must be the shy and elusive Teva.
Calder opened his arms to Piper. “I guess this is goodbye,” he said, his voice a little gruff.
She hugged him tightly. “Take care of Father, okay?”
“I will. And you take care of yourself. I want to see you back in a few days at the most. We could really use your help.”
She nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
Calder turned to Ash and extended a hand. Surprised, Ash hesitated, then grasped it.
“You bring my niece back to me in one piece,” Calder said, his face hardening.
Ash’s eyes darkened. He released Calder’s hand and stepped back.
Piper grabbed her uncle’s arm and dragged him to the driver’s door of the vehicle. Inside, Lyre dragged himself off the seat, yawning widely.
“You’re almost as bad as father!” she hissed to her uncle.
“I watched him put a sword through your body, Piper. I wasn’t going to not say anything.”
“You also know I jumped in front of his attack.”
“That’s the only reason I’m letting you go anywhere with him.” He gave her a sideways look, then opened the door of the van. “Be careful, Pipes.”
“I will. Stay safe.”
He climbed in and started the engine. She joined the others on the side of the road as Calder pulled a U-turn and drove back down the highway. She watched until the vehicle was out of sight then turned to the others.
“Are we good to go?” she asked.
Ash gestured for Kiev to lead the way. “It just started to rain there. We should hurry before the weather worsens.”
Together, they marched through the trees. Kiev walked at the front of the group, Teva hanging off his shoulder. The dragonet’s long, graceful tail ended in a stump, the silky tuft missing entirely. Piper’s stomach twisted. Was it an injury Teva had received from the Hades agent Kiev had killed?
They stopped just as Piper began to feel a shiver of ancient magic along her nerves. No physical indicators revealed the presence of the line but she could sense its power among the unremarkable stretch of trees. If she’d been shaded, her daemon eyes would have been able to see it clearly, but as it was, all she could see was a vague shimmer out of the corner of her eye.
Ash took her hand and guided her down the line a little ways until the others were mostly out of sight among the shrubbery. Zwi jumped off him and trotted away into the trees. Piper tried to ignore the flickers of nervousness as she stopped beside Ash. Her experience with travelling ley lines was limited and involved a lot of trauma. The Void still frequented her nightmares.
“I can lead you the same way I first pulled you into the ley line,” he said. “Or I can put you to sleep and carry you through.”
“I’ll do it awake,” she said, not wanting him to waste magic on bringing her through the hard way. “Just tell me what to do.”
“You should use your daemon glamour,” he instructed.
Ah, that was why he’d led her away from the others; Kiev still hadn’t seen her other shape. She immediately closed her eyes and reached for the thread of magic that determined her form and felt the resulting tingles shower her skin. She opened her eyes and glanced toward the ley line but it was still invisible. She didn’t dare attempt to shade so she could see it.
Ash held out a hand. She placed hers in his, the scales on her knuckles glittering. He guided her closer to the line and she stepped into it, feeling the instant rush of magic over her body like a warm, invisible river flowing past.
He pulled her closer and wrapped his other arm around her waist, still holding her hand in his.
“Is this how you guide everyone through ley lines?” she asked, feeling the beginnings of a blush in her cheeks.
“Lyre and Seiya are experienced in line travel and only need to hold Kiev’s hands for guidance. I don’t want you slipping away from me.”
She nodded nervously.
“It will be easy,” he added. “Just don’t resist my lead.”
“I won’t,” she said softly.
His arm tightened. “Are you ready?”
She closed her eyes, wrapping an imaginary bubble of magic around her head to protect her mind from the screaming, tearing nothingness of the Void. As Lyre had explained on the drive, they would jump into the Void, but instead of exiting in another world, they would exit at another one of Earth’s ley lines—the one in Fairglen. It wouldn’t be any easier than travelling to another world, but neither would it be more difficult.
Making sure she had a firm grasp on her internal barrier of magic, her eyes still squeezed shut, she clamped her free hand over Ash’s arm around her middle.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”
“On three,” he murmured. “One ... two ... three.”
He stepped forward, moving her with him—and the world imploded into shrieking, tearing oblivion.
CHAPTER 16
THE SCREAMING nothingness of the Void transformed into a booming roar.
The world reformed around Piper and she staggered, clutching Ash’s arm as sights and sounds overloaded her senses. Gusts of wind drove icy rain into her face and a bright flash illuminated the trees surrounding them, followed immediately by an earsplitting boom of thunder. They’d come out of the ley line at the bottom of a steep ravine filled with fallen trees and leafy debris. The cool cloudy weather in Brinford, 150 miles away, was a pleasant memory.
“I thought you said it was only raining!” she yelled over the wind and downpour.
“It was.” Ash tugged her hand. “Come on.”
Piper clutched his hand as he started forward. Rain instantly drenched her to the skin. She stumbled after him, feeling just as miserable as Zwi looked as she clung to his shoulder, wings tight against her body and shoulders hunched. They trudged through the litter of tree trunks and soggy, ankle-deep dead leaves to the other side of the ravine. A rocky wall reared up twenty feet, not quite vertical, but close. Ash guided her toward the wet rock, a slight shield against the wind. Closing her eyes, she shifted back to her human form and instantly felt twice as cold and miserable.
Lyre, Seiya, and Kiev ap
peared out of the rain a moment later. Piper hadn’t even seen them come through the ley line. She wrapped her arms around her middle, clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering. Zala was wrapped around Seiya’s neck for warmth, but Teva, nowhere in sight, must have returned to hiding from the strangers.
“Nice weather,” Lyre shouted over the wind.
Ash pushed his dripping hair out of his eyes. “We can’t travel in this.”
“There are some little caves this way.” Kiev pointed down the ravine. “I’ve used them for shelter before.”
He started in that direction, walking quickly. As she and the others followed him, Piper clamped her arms tighter around herself, thinking longingly of her nice, warm cot back at the church. A couple dozen yards down the ravine, Kiev stopped. Beside him, the rocky wall opened into a low hollow, four feet deep and just tall enough to crouch in.
Kiev ducked his head to look inside. “Uh, I guess it’s not really big enough for all of us. But there’s another one a little farther down.”
“Ah, well. In that case,” Lyre said brightly, “Kiev, Seiya, and I will continue on.”
“Hey, but—” Piper began.
Lyre grabbed each draconian by an elbow and steered them away, flashing a grin over his shoulder at Piper and Ash.
“Have fun!” he called back.
“Have fun?” she spluttered angrily, wiping rain off her face. “Ugh.”
Not quite looking at Ash, she dropped into a crouch and shuffled into the dark hollow. The air smelled musty and damp, but it was significantly warmer without the icy wind. She made her way to the back, putting several feet between herself and the opening, and sat against the cold rock. Wrapping her arms around her knees and fighting shivers, she watched Ash crawl in and sit beside her. He kept his gaze on the opening of their shelter, watching for any signs of danger.
She scowled at the raindrops pounding the fallen leaves outside. Lyre was forcing them together in the hopes that they would reconcile or something; she was sure of it. Everyone seemed to think she was making a mistake. They thought just because Ash was willing to protect her, that she should let him. But she didn’t agree with that. For starters, it was selfishly cruel to Ash, making him responsible for her life. And secondly, just because someone could carry her everywhere didn’t mean she should let them. She wanted to be able to protect herself—she needed to be able to protect herself.
From out of the hazy rain beyond the rocks, Zwi dashed into the cave. She shook her entire body, sending raindrops flying everywhere, and looked at Piper. She chirped in a pointed sort of way.
Ash looked at Piper. “You’re shivering.”
“I’m fine.” Her teeth chattered, betraying her.
He frowned. “Sometimes I forget you aren’t a daemon. This is too cold for you, isn’t it?”
Her heart beat a little faster. Sometimes I forget you aren’t a daemon. For some reason, those words made her stomach swoop a little.
“My clothes are wet, that’s all,” she said defensively.
“Come here,” he said.
“No.”
“Piper.”
“I’m fine.”
He sighed, then reached for her. There was nowhere to escape. He hooked his arm around her and dragged her in front of him.
“Just because you’re stronger than me doesn’t mean you can manhandle me!”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d stop being ridiculous.”
“Why can’t you just magic up a fire?”
“There’s no way to hide the light of a fire, and the ley line is only a few dozen yards away.”
She growled under her breath, sitting stiffly with her back to his torso, his knees on either side of her, and tried her best not to touch him. His logic made too much sense; they didn’t want to light a beacon for any daemon coming out of the line. Stupid Lyre. This had been his plan all along, that interfering, matchmaking incubus. She’d wanted to create distance between her and Ash. This was the opposite of distance.
Zwi stepped in front of Piper and put her little front paws on Piper’s knees. Giving her a stern stare, the dragonet chittered admonishingly.
“What?” she grumped.
Another chiding chirp.
“Ugh.” With great reluctance, she leaned back against Ash’s chest. Warmth instantly suffused her and she couldn’t help but relax a little. He slid his arms around her, adding even more heat. Her stomach fluttered, but she shut down thoughts of the other times his arms had been around her.
Satisfied, Zwi clambered onto Piper’s lap and curled up, providing another layer of warmth.
Giving in, she rested her head against his shoulder. She stared out at the rain as the morning light beyond the heavy clouds grew brighter. The storm showed no signs of abating any time soon.
He smelled so good—the scent of fresh mountain air with a musky undertone that was uniquely him. She realized she’d closed her eyes. Opening them, she tipped her head back to peek up at him. He was watching the opening of the cave, ever alert while she was daydreaming. She lightly stroked Zwi’s head, smoothing the dragonet’s silky mane.
“What’s your bond with Zwi like?” she asked quietly. “I’ve been meaning to ask for a long time. Can you read her mind?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” he murmured. His deep voice vibrated from his chest into her back, making her shiver a little. “We don’t think words to each other the way I talk to you. We share thoughts, insights, memories, knowledge—anything that can be in our minds—whenever we want. I don’t know what she’s thinking unless she wants me to know.”
“Huh. Wow.” She touched Zwi’s head lightly. “Is she as intelligent as you and I then?”
“Fairly close, but it’s a different kind of intelligence. She can’t read or do complex math, but she is very intuitive and has learned from me how to follow along with a lot of spoken conversation.”
“Wait, she can’t read? But didn’t she pull out my father’s file in the medical center?”
“She can’t read, but I can. She looked at the files and showed me through our bond, and I let her know which one to take.”
“Oh. That’s amazing.” She stared in awe at the dragonet. “I hadn’t even imagined that your bond was so involved.”
“It’s very intimate. The bond can’t even happen unless the draconian and dragonet click on a deep level. The dragonet has to be very committed, because if her bonded dies, she’ll die soon after.”
Piper’s eyes widened and she craned her neck to look at him. He met her stare solemnly.
“I think Raum mentioned something about that,” she said. “But nothing happens to you if she dies?”
“It is supposed to be excruciatingly painful for a draconian to lose his dragonet. One of the older draconians of Samael’s lost his. He was never the same, and died himself less than a year later while on a mission. I don’t think he cared about surviving anymore.”
“That’s terrible. But why does a dragonet die without her master?”
“She needs my magic. Once we bond, she can’t live long without it. Even distance can weaken her. If we’re too far apart, she can’t shape-shift.” His arms tightened around Piper. “I’m not sure if I ever thanked you for taking care of her while I was in Asphodel.”
“She seemed so lost,” she said softly. “I’m glad I could help.”
“I had to leave her.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, the words lined with regret. “I didn’t want her to suffer with me.”
Piper turned sideways in his arms so she could see his face properly. Zwi grumbled sleepily.
“You did the right thing,” she said gently.
He gave a short nod, his eyes moving back to the rain outside. She watched him, swallowing back the hurt from his abruptly distant expression. Silence fell that she didn’t know how to break. For a couple minutes there, it had been just like before. She’d almost forgotten everything else, lost in their conversation. Maybe he’d temporarily forgott
en too—but he’d just reestablished the new boundaries between them.
Her heart squeezed in her chest. Unbidden, her mind conjured a memory: in the Overworld, Ash’s gaze trailing over her new daemon form, the heat in his eyes, the desire. She remembered being wanted by him, his hands in her hair and his mouth on hers, perfect harmony, shared need. She wanted more than anything to go back to that moment and to change what had happened next.
Emotion twisted through her—longing for what they’d had, regret that she’d ruined it, painful determination not to undo everything in a moment of weakness. It all overwhelmed her, crushing her until she wanted to scream. She exhaled, the breath shuddering out of her.
“I’m sorry I threw your tracking spell away,” she said quietly, her eyes on her hands as she combed her fingers through Zwi’s mane. “It was short-sighted of me. I didn’t think about what it would mean for you if you woke up before I could find Lyre and Seiya.”
He was silent for a moment, but she wasn’t brave enough to look up to see his expression.
“Why did you throw it away then?”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “I need to fight my own battles.”
She felt him tense in response to her words.
“Since the very beginning—since that first day at the Consulate when the choronzon attacked us—you’ve been saving me,” she explained, struggling to find the right words. She kept her eyes on her lap. “You’ve hauled me out of every bad situation I’ve ended up in. You’ve saved my life so many times. And even though you keep getting hurt or almost killed while dealing with my problems, as soon as the next crisis pops up, I’m turning to you again.
“That day on the cliff ... I saw you die. I thought you’d died and it was my fault because I’d dragged you along when I didn’t need to. I should have told you to stay behind from the start. And then when they attacked us on the cliff, I wasn’t strong enough and you were so conditioned to protect me by that point that you looked when I screamed ...”
She slowly shook her head. “I threw your spell away because I can’t let you protect me anymore. I need to be my own protector. If you’re here, then I’ll never have to fight for myself ... at least not until the day you end up dead because of me.”
Reap the Shadows (Steel & Stone Book 4) Page 18