by Anne Bishop
“I don’t think it’s my place to have an opinion, one way or the other,” Aiden said mildly.
Liam turned on the bench to look at Aiden directly. “You’re the Bard. I had the impression you have opinions about most things.”
Aiden chuckled. “Is that your impression? Well, you might be right.”
“So?” Liam prodded when Aiden didn’t say anything more.
“So, yes, I think you’re being an ass.” Aiden glanced over and smiled before turning his attention back to his harp.
Liam waited. “That’s it?”
Aiden stilled the harp strings, then cradled the instrument in his arms. “Love is precious, no matter how long it lasts. We sing the songs, we tell the stories, we glory in those moments when love begins. We sing the songs and tell the stories of love lost, of love offered and refused, of love betrayed. I suspect you’re a man who feels deeply for the people he cares about, a man who wouldn’t make a commitment he didn’t intend to keep. You look at Breanna and see a woman who also has deep feelings, a woman who would honor her commitments in the same way you do. You look at Falco and remember stories about the Fae—and of love betrayed. You doubt his feelings because he’s Fae and because you’re afraid for Breanna’s sake. But Falco isn’t the brash Fae Lord he was a year ago, and Breanna is a strong woman, not a girl who would be swayed by a bit of romance. I see two people working toward a partnership rather than temporary lovers whose only interest in each other is what they find in bed.”
“I’ve only known her a few months,” Liam said softly. “It feels like I’ve known her all my life, that she’s always been a part of my life, but, in truth, I met Breanna at the beginning of this summer. Maybe I’m…jealous?”
“Maybe.”
He sighed. “Selena thinks I’m an ass.”
Aiden laughed. “Then maybe you should spend less time thinking about Breanna and Falco and more time giving Selena a chance to change her opinion of you.”
“Maybe.” Liam smiled reluctantly and rose. “I have a few things to do. I’m taking the early watch at Nuala’s grave so that I can get some sleep tonight.” He hesitated. “It’s rather extraordinary, the way the grave still glows with moonlight. It’s a beacon in the dark, but it also feels like a barrier against the dark things in the world.”
Aiden just looked at him for a long moment. “I suspect Selena is also someone capable of deep feelings for people, whether she’s known them for a long time or not.”
Adolfo walked back into the clearing, followed by eager Inquisitors and wary guards. Hearing footsteps, the witch made muffled, distressed noises, but he ignored her, his attention on the cage.
Alarm danced up his spine when he saw the broken cage bars—until he remembered the wood had snapped when he released the power. It wouldn’t do to have these creatures loose among his own men. It wouldn’t do at all.
Then he heard wood cracking, saw the blankets shift as limbs pushed through broken pieces of the cage.
“Quickly,” he snapped. “Put the meat in the cage. Push it through that broken section.”
The guards moved forward cautiously, jumping back when the creatures screamed, having caught the scent of meat and blood.
“Quickly!”
The first guard approached, the body of a dead falcon tied to one end of a long tree branch. He thrust the branch through the bars.
The cage rocked with the impact of the creatures lunging for the offered prey. Something snapped the branch. Sounds of fighting. Of bones snapping.
“More!” Adolfo ordered. Two other birds that the longbowmen had brought down were thrust into the cage. Then a rabbit, recently snared and still barely alive, was shoved into the cage. Then a chunk of meat from the hind leg of a deer that had been fleeing from one group of men and had run into the middle of another pack of guards hunting to supply meat for the cookpots.
Five meals, all smeared with a paste he’d made to put the creatures to sleep for a few hours. Long enough for the guards to get them close to the Old Place—and Baron Liam’s estate.
When the sounds inside the cage diminished to snarls and crunching bones, Adolfo took one of the branches, caught the edge of one blanket, flipped it aside, then did the same with the other blanket. He stepped back to admire what his power had wrought. One of the creatures was still transforming, and its leg revealed clearly what it had been.
He turned and looked at the faces of the Inquisitors and guards. Shock. Revulsion. Fear.
Smiling gently, he walked over to the witch. He fumbled with the blindfold before managing to pull it off. Leaning down, he whispered, “Look what your magic created.”
She just stared at him as he moved to one side, as frightened as the rabbit that had been caught in the snare.
“Look,” he said again, turning her head to focus her attention on the cage.
She stared and stared. Then she screamed, the piercing, terrified sounds muffled by the bridle.
Suddenly the screaming stopped.
Leaning over her again, Adolfo studied the blank eyes, pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart still beat. She still breathed. But her wits had fled, and he wasn’t sure they would return. Not a strong witch in any way. No matter. She could be used for one more spell before she became too worn out to be useful.
One by one, the creatures inside the cage fell into a drugged sleep.
“Swiftly, now,” Adolfo said. “There’s enough time to ride to the Old Place before they rouse from this sleep, but not much more time than that.”
The guards hesitated.
“Move!”
One guard pulled a knife from his boot sheath and sliced at one of the blankets until it could be ripped in half. Gingerly opening the cage, he took one of the creatures, wrapped it in half the blanket, and hurried out of the clearing to the spot where other guards held the horses.
Three guards, following the example of the first, ripped the other blanket and bundled creatures into the pieces. The last creature in the cage was the one not fully transformed. The guard hesitated. There was nothing left to wrap the creature in. His hands shook as he finally grabbed the creature and ran for his horse.
Adolfo waited until the guards rode off. Then he turned to his Inquisitors and gestured toward the witch. “Take it back to a tent. Give it water. Feed it if it still has enough wits left to eat. Take care of it. I need it physically strong and healthy for another day or two. After that…” He shrugged. “The men will have another use for it.”
Aiden was already dozing off in the saddle as Minstrel crossed the bridge that would take them back to Liam’s house. If he’d been riding another horse, he might have stayed at the Old Place after finishing his watch at Nuala’s grave. But Minstrel knew the way to Liam’s as well as he did, and he trusted the horse to get them there safely. Besides, if he didn’t come back, Lyrra would worry about him and never get any sleep. And he didn’t sleep as well if he didn’t fall asleep holding her. Too bad they were usually so worn out that they didn’t do much else when they fell into bed.
Minstrel stopped so suddenly, Aiden wobbled in the saddle before regaining his balance. The horse’s attention was focused on the fields.
Reaching down to give the horse a reassuring pat, he felt the muscles quivering beneath his hand. Alarmed, he strained to see if there was anything out there in the dark. Nothing. But something was spooking Minstrel.
Then he thought he heard a muffled cry of pain. Was someone in the field?
He looked back toward the grave and saw two of the huntsmen moving toward the brook, their attention focused on the field as well.
Horses galloping away. Not Fae then. He wouldn’t have heard Fae horses. Humans who had lost their way in the dark and realized where they were when they saw the glow of moonlight around Nuala’s grave? Possible. But Minstrel still trembled under his hand, and his own skin was starting to crawl.
“Come on, boy,” he whispered. “Let’s get away from here.”
Wide awake now,
he let the horse run. He didn’t want to be out in the dark. He didn’t want to be near that field.
When he reached Liam’s house and led Minstrel into the stable, Arthur sleepily offered to bed down the dark horse. Accepting the offer, Aiden gave Minstrel a farewell pat and hurried to the house. It was locked at night now, but guards kept watch at the front windows, so the door was open for him as soon as he reached it.
He rushed up the stairs, then hesitated in front of Liam’s bedroom door. Had he spooked himself over something that had a simple explanation because he wasn’t easy about being out at night anymore? But that didn’t explain Minstrel or the huntsmen who had also heard or sensed something. So he knocked on the door, grateful he didn’t have to rouse the whole house in order to wake Liam.
Liam opened the door partway and raked a hand through his hair. “What is it?” he asked, his voice sleep-roughened.
“We have to talk,” Aiden said, keeping his voice low. “Ashk and Selena, too.”
Liam stared at him, then seemed to really wake up. “I’ll join you in a minute.”
Nodding, Aiden hurried to the other rooms. Selena was harder to rouse, but Ashk was still dressed, which meant she hadn’t even tried to get any sleep yet.
They gathered in the hallway outside Ashk’s door. As soon as Liam joined them, Aiden told them what he could. When he’d finished, the others said nothing.
Finally, Ashk shook her head. “Are you certain the huntsmen were aware of something out in the field?”
“I saw two of them moving toward the brook. Since we were all looking at the same field, I’m assuming they sensed something,” Aiden replied.
“Then they’ll warn the others when the watch changes. I’ll go out and take a look around.”
“You can’t go out there in the dark,” Selena protested.
“Shadow hounds hunt in the dark,” Ashk replied quietly.
“Then I’ll go with you.”
Before he or Liam could argue, another voice said, “No,” sharply enough to silence all of them.
They turned to find Morphia, pale and shaking, walking toward them.
“You can’t go out tonight,” she said.
“Morphia—” Ashk began.
“You can’t.” Morphia closed her eyes. “Dreams. Blood in the water…and blood-soaked fur. And…more.” When she opened her eyes, they were glazed with fear. “We can’t lose either of you. Something’s coming. Something terrible. And something is already here. If you go out tonight, we’ll lose you…and then we’ll lose so much more. Please. Don’t go.”
Silence.
Finally, Ashk said, “All right. We’ll go out at first light.” She brushed a hand lightly down Morphia’s arm. “Go back to bed. Try to get some rest.”
They watched Morphia go back to her room. Waited until the door softly closed.
“I don’t want you to go out either,” Liam said slowly, “but it is just a dream.”
Ashk looked at him. “Liam, do you want to tell the Sleep Sister it’s just a dream?”
After a brief hesitation, Liam shook his head.
“Then let’s get what rest we can. It looks like we’ll be hunting in the morning.”
Adolfo took a long sip of wine. The guard captain’s uneasiness didn’t please him, but he would hear the man out before deciding what discipline was required. “Well?”
“The guards managed to get deep into Baron Liam’s estate, almost to the water that divides his land and the Old Place.”
“But they didn’t get to the Old Place?”
The guard captain shook his head. “They didn’t dare move closer. They said there was a strange light. Not torches or a campfire. They said it looked like a circle of moonlight rising up from the ground. And there were men guarding the place. Then…” He hesitated. “One of the creatures roused sooner than expected, bit the guard on the forearm, and escaped. The sounds alerted the guards on the other side of the water.”
“What happened to the other four creatures?” Adolfo asked quietly.
“They were released in the field. The guards rode away. They’re certain the creatures weren’t seen.”
Adolfo thought this over and finally nodded. “They are close enough, and when they wake, the fresh prey within sight will keep them close to the water. That is adequate. Tomorrow we will attack. We’ll set our catapults on the low rise beyond the field with the tumbled stones and fire on them as the enemy moves to meet us.”
“As you will.” The guard captain turned to leave the tent. He stopped and turned back. “Master Adolfo, the guard who was bitten…In the time it took to return to camp, the flesh around the wound turned putrid and the rot is spreading. The physicians don’t know how to stop it. I wondered…”
“Tell the physicians to take the arm.”
The guard captain tensed. “But the bite itself wasn’t that serious!”
“There is nothing that can be done. He can lose an arm or lose his life.” Adolfo smiled horribly. “And what is an arm compared to crushing this enemy once and for all?”
Chapter 47
waning moon
Ashk stepped out of Liam’s house, annoyed with herself because she’d slept past first light. As Aiden had pointed out, the sun was barely up, but she couldn’t shake the dream she’d had last night that she’d tried to catch something fragile and it had slipped through her fingers and shattered all around her, couldn’t shake the feeling that this small delay would make a difference…somehow.
“Ashk?”
She turned to look at Selena and almost smiled. The Huntress was dressed in soft gray trousers and a short-sleeved tunic. The tunic had been done up hastily, revealing the white camisole she wore beneath it. Not practical garb for a hunt, since the light color would make her too visible in the woods. But…
Shadow hound colors, Ashk thought suddenly, studying the gray clothing and the black hair carelessly tied back with a ribbon. And the dark and light of the moon. Perhaps the Huntress was right after all in her choice of garb, since she would usually partake in a very different kind of hunt.
Then something shivered through her. She turned away from the house and walked toward the grass and trees that formed a park on one side of the house.
“Ashk?” Selena said again.
She raised her hand to acknowledge that she’d heard and kept walking until she reached a big shade tree. She paused there and rested her palm against the tree. Now that she was away from human things and human noises, her senses sharpened, her gift flooded her with messages.
Something wrong nearby. Something unnatural. Something that doesn’t belong in the woods.
She swore silently. She’d hoped they’d cleared out all the nighthunters when they’d found that nest, but there were more of them out there. But this shiver beneath the land’s skin hadn’t been there since they’d cleaned out the nest. Had the Black Coats marching toward them created more of the creatures and managed to capture and transport them somewhere close by? Was that what Aiden had heard in the field last night? From the information she’d gotten from the Inquisitors who had been captured at Bretonwood, the magic they drew from an Old Place and twisted struck randomly when it was released, and its manifestation could range from a good well suddenly going dry to small creatures in the woods being changed into nighthunters. They simply unleashed that magic with no way to control it. But what if one of them had learned to contain that power while twisting it so that it flooded a particular place?
A hint of sound made her look up just as something small and black floated down from the branches above her head. She caught the feather, then studied the crow that was preening itself while watching her. Just a crow. And yet…
She watched the crows drift across the small clearing. One took flight, flying so low she could have reached up and touched it. Then another followed. Then a handful. Finally the rest of the rook flew over the clearing to the trees on the other side.
“Seeing them reminds me of something I’ve wo
ndered about,” she said.
Morag’s attention remained focused on the crows. Eventually she relaxed and looked at Ashk. “What have you wondered about?”
“All the Fae who are Death’s Servants are crows or ravens in their other form. They aren’t the only Fae who have that form, but I don’t recall one of Death’s Servants who wasn’t one or the other. Why is that?”
Morag looked at her a long time before saying softly, “Perhaps it’s because crows and ravens are Death’s servants, too.”
Ashk dropped the feather, turned on her heel, and hurried over to where the others waited with the saddled horses. Too many others. This wasn’t some gentry hunt where they chased a fox over the fields for exercise and amusement. What she was hunting this morning could kill them. Of course, what was coming toward them could kill them all just as swiftly.
As she reached them, Varden was speaking: “—mentioned hearing something moving near the brook, but nothing came near the grave. One man thought he saw something. From the size of it and how it moved, he figured it was one of the Small Folk. They haven’t approached any of the men guarding the grave, but we’ve seen them a couple of times at dusk or right before dawn. I guess they’re keeping their own watch.”
When Liam noticed her, he stiffened, obviously braced for an argument. “I’m coming with you. My land, my people. If something is out there, I’m not sitting back and letting someone else protect what’s mine.”
“You have another task,” Ashk said brusquely. “We need to move up companies of men to guard the road into the village. The villagers and the barons will listen to you. Sheridan, Varden. Do you know the low rise that borders the field with that tumble of stones?”
“We’ve both seen it,” Sheridan said, looking at Varden, who nodded.
“Sheridan, you take the western huntsmen. Varden, you take the huntsmen from your Clan. I want that rise guarded. Now. The Black Coats’ army has to move across that field or down the road in order to strike at the village or the Old Place.”
“They’re moving?” Liam said. “Are you sure?”