by Jocelyn Fox
“I would be grateful for your assistance, Seelie Vaelanseld,” said Molly in a velvety smooth voice. Tess tried not to show her surprise, and she thought she saw a flicker of something like anger in Ramel’s eyes before he recovered his stoic mask. He silently showed Tess the rune inked on his wrist.
Calliea produced a black grease-stick – or at least that was what Tess called them mentally. Her best guess at its formulation involved charcoal, perhaps some ink, and some sort of tallow. It was a special tool used to inscribe runes on skin, designed to be resistant to water, sweat and dirt. Tess wondered idly whether waterproof eyeliner would hold the rune-magic and almost laughed aloud as she held out her left arm to Calliea. She preferred not to ink the rune over her war markings. Molly slid over to Niall and offered him her milk-pale bare arm…and a small, coy smile. Tess blinked and caught herself before she looked at Ramel to gauge his reaction. If there was trouble in paradise, it would only be made that much worse if they all acknowledged it.
Calliea pressed the rounded point of the grease-stick to Tess’s skin. The pressure as she skillfully sketched the rune wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t entirely pleasant, either. By the time Calliea finished, the black lines were rimmed with red. “Sensitive mortal skin,” she murmured, mostly to herself. Tess had to smile a little at that. She looked at her forearm and traced the lines of the rune with her eyes: Calliea had drawn it with bold, thick strokes halfway between her wrist and elbow. The concealment rune was not circular, unlike most of the all-purpose runes that Tess had learned. She couldn’t decide if it looked like a serpent, a bird or another creature. Perhaps it was part of its power that she couldn’t pin down exactly what it looked like. It was clear enough while she was sketching it, but as soon as the design was complete it shimmied away from her, sliding into different forms beneath her gaze. It means it’s working, she thought.
Calliea inked a second rune higher up on Tess’s arm, above her elbow. “Closer to your heart and your head,” the Valkyrie leader explained in a quiet voice. “This one is for clear sight. The concealment rune that the others are wearing won’t try to twist your vision with this one counteracting it. And if we come upon anyone else wearing runes, you should be able to see true.”
Tess cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” Calliea gave her a small, encouraging smile that lasted only an instant. She stepped back and turned to Jess, inking the concealment rune on the mortal fighter’s arm before stowing her grease-stick in her belt pouch.
With the runes completed, the company gazed at Tess expectantly. She drew back her shoulders. “I’ll be the first through the portal. Niall, you’ll be right after me, then Calliea, Jess and Molly, then Ramel to guard our flank. Haze, Forin and Farin, you may go through at any point after me.”
Forin saluted her gravely.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t know what to expect in the mortal world,” Tess continued in her quiet, intense voice. The air in the pavilion undulated faster as the Queens quickened the tempo of their chant. “But what I do know is that from this moment on, we are all responsible for each other. We will all watch each other’s backs and defend against whatever evils the bone sorcerer has prepared to throw against us.” She took a breath and forced herself not to look obviously at Niall and Ramel. “And after we defeat the bone sorcerer, I will bring the Lethe Stone back into this world as agreed.” She thought she saw a flicker of something cross Niall’s face at the mention of the Lethe Stone, but she wasn’t sure. In any case, he bowed his head gracefully to her, Calliea nodded, and Ramel gave a curt gesture of understanding. Tess wondered whether Mab had placed some sort of spell on her onetime sword teacher.
But now was not the time to wonder about changing friendships and hurt feelings. Tess turned to the center of the pavilion. The three Queens stood about the silver bowl, their hands raised and palms pressed together, creating an unbroken ring. White smoke rose from the silver bowl, reaching out with sentient tendrils to touch each of the Queens, wreathing their shoulders with silvery ropes of mist. The pace of the Queens’ chanting increased again, and an unnatural wind stirred the scarlet drapes at the boundary of the pavilion. Tess thought briefly of the vision of the woman in the scarlet gown, but then she refocused on the present. She’d have to wonder about her vision later.
The Knights standing behind each Queen braced themselves as the wind increased to a gale. The white smoke writhed untouched by the wind. Tess widened her stance and squared her shoulders as she strode toward the Queens. The wind reached a crescendo as the Queens’ voices rose to almost a shout, beautiful and commanding. The white smoke swirled up in two columns on either side of the silver bowl, and a thin spire reached from one column toward the other. The wind sloughed away the smoke to reveal two shining silver columns and a delicate arch uniting them into an unmistakable doorway. The wind slackened, the Queens brought their shouting chant down to a crooning hum, and then there was silence.
Tess gazed breathlessly at the Gate. It was beautiful and beckoning, but her skin prickled with goosebumps as she strode toward it. The air between the columns turned opaque, shadows moving through it every now and again. It reminded Tess of cloudy water and the sleek dark shapes of predators moving beneath the surface. She shivered and touched the hilt of the Sword for reassurance as she became aware of her company moving into alignment behind her as she’d directed. Kianryk padded to her side, his golden eyes fixed on the portal, the scarlet collar a striking contrast to his pale pelt.
Vell leaned over and swept up the silver bowl with two hands, her movements dance-like. Her voice, when she spoke, sounded like there was still a chorus echoing in the reaches of the pavilion. “Lady Bearer, step forward to be marked.”
Tess obediently strode over to Vell, her heartbeat increasing steadily as the power of the Gate crackled through the air like lightning through storm clouds overhead. Vell dipped two fingers into the bowl and drew a line down Tess’s forehead from her hairline to the bridge of her nose. Vell’s fingers were cool, but the liquid felt warm and thick on Tess’s skin. Vell marked each of the company, even the Glasidhe and Kianryk, and then placed the bowl back on the ground, dark liquid dripping from her fingers onto the silvery floor.
Another shadow rippled in the opaque pane between the silver columns of the Gate. Tess looked at Vell, who nodded slightly, golden eyes grave. Behind her, Liam gave Tess his own nod and a small smile. She smiled at him in return, then turned to the Gate, took a deep breath, and stepped over the threshold into the strange white mist.
The Gate felt nothing like the portal that had been opened between the Northern mountains and the Queen’s camp on the Deadlands. That portal had offered some slow, elastic resistance, like swimming through thicker water. This Gate, though, grabbed Tess and violently threw her into a whirling, hot limbo, spinning and turning her until she stopped her futile attempts at controlling her motion. She grabbed the strap of the Sword at her chest, pressed her elbows into her sides and shut her eyes, every part of her body protesting at the impossibly fast and forceful turns, twists and somersaults as she hurtled through whatever ether filled the space between the worlds. The Queens’ blood on her forehead burned her skin. She clutched the leather of the bandolier and tried to breathe in the hot maelstrom. Blinding light and black darkness whirled around her, piercing her eyelids with brutal power.
Just when Tess thought that she couldn’t bear any more of the raging tempest, the sense of rushing speed slowed, and the invisible force stopped tossing her about like a hapless rag doll. Before she could open her eyes or take a breath of shuddering relief, gravity took over, and she felt the distinct sensation of being dropped. She instinctively protected her head with her forearms, and she landed hard on the ground as if thrown from the sky by a vindictive god. Or a vindictive Queen, she thought dizzily, the breath knocked out of her. She gripped the long grass in which she’d landed in both hands, dragging in a long, noisy lungful of hot and humid air. She heard rather than saw
the rest of her company being dropped onto the ground. An unhappy yelp told her that Kianryk had made it through, and then indignant Glasidhe voices reached her ears. She rolled to her side and managed to get onto all fours, her head swimming.
A splash and a curse caught her attention. She opened her eyes, shut them unsteadily as the world spun around her, and promptly emptied her stomach into the long grass. As she spat bile disgustedly, trying to clear her mouth of the foul taste, she heard Calliea speaking to the voice that had cursed after the splash. Niall. She swallowed hard and tried opening her eyes again, rewarded this time by significant but manageable vertigo. The Sword’s power stirred in her chest, but somehow that made her feel even more nauseous. She stumbled to her feet, took two wobbling steps and lowered to one knee, tears of frustration gathering at the corners of her eyes. If the rest of the company was this sick from going through the Gate, what use would they be against the bone sorcerer?
But when Tess managed to look up, she saw that the Sidhe members of the company seemed a bit shaken but functioning. Calliea supported a soaked Niall, who was grimacing and holding one arm protectively against his side. Molly was talking in a quiet, intense voice to Ramel. Out of all of them, Molly seemed the least affected by the travel through the Gate – perhaps because she was a child of both worlds, thought Tess. Jess, at least, looked a little sick, but he must have already taken care of his vomiting because he stood pale but solid next to Calliea and Niall. His sharp gray eyes traveled over the landscape with practiced speed. Gwyneth’s pendant heated against her throat, and Tess hooked a finger through it. Its warmth traveled through her hand and up her arm, helping to banish a bit of the sick feeling spreading throughout her body.
The grass parted and her heart jumped before she realized it was Kianryk. The big wolf inserted himself beneath her free hand. Between the warmth of the pendant and the warmth of the wolf, Tess felt almost steady as she stood again.
That was pretty terrible, she remarked silently to the Sword, but it didn’t reply. She swallowed down another wave of nausea.
“We shall scout,” announced Farin, her bright voice giving no indication that she was suffering any ill effects from the journey through the portal.
Tess forced a smile. “I expect no less.”
“Lady Bearer.” The indefatigable Glasidhe saluted her jauntily and zoomed off to join her twin overhead.
Calliea didn’t look up from examining Niall’s arm, conferencing with him in a low voice. Molly and Ramel stood off to the side, Ramel watching Tess stiffly. Molly caught her eye and gave her a strange, brilliant smile, the stripe of blood down her forehead gleaming wetly. Another moment of vertigo overtook Tess, but not from the journey through the portal – she felt suddenly that she didn’t know Molly or Ramel. They seemed like strangers, and now they were here in the mortal world with her. What kind of leader did it make her if she felt such odd detachment from two companions who had once been her friends?
“Well, Lady Bearer, what next?” Niall asked in his smooth, courteous voice, his pale gaze taking in their surroundings. They stood by the banks of a river, the air heavy with moisture and the scent of growth and decay. The sun shone brightly overhead, almost at its noon zenith, but heavy, dark clouds rolled with unnerving speed across the sky toward the sun, and the wind began to pick up as the bright sunlight faded. Tess looked down at Kianryk. She hoped the wolf would still be able to track Luca after the storm…but then again, perhaps he didn’t need to track by scent. Already he kept gazing off to the west, whining low in his throat. Vell must have instructed him to stay with the company and lead them to Luca rather than take off on his own through an unknown world.
Thunder rumbled warningly in the distance. “We’ll find some shelter from this storm,” she said, hoping that Forin and Farin returned quickly. Surveying the horizon, she picked out the flat thread of a road no more than a mile distant. A large, gnarled oak rose in the field of long, swaying grass. They couldn’t shelter under a tree during a thunderstorm, but Tess felt drawn to the tree for some reason she couldn’t articulate. Calliea must have felt it too: the Valkyrie commander had already struck out toward the tree, her strides quick and sure, and one hand on her coiled whip. Tess followed at a manageable pace, stopping every few moments to take long breaths and push down the bile rising in her throat. No one commented on her strange behavior, but she didn’t have the energy to feel grateful.
Jess matched her strides. “Looks like there might be something in the way of shelter up the road to the west,” he said to Tess. She nodded, oddly out of breath and feeling like the long grass tried to tangle around her feet to trip her with every step. Calliea, though, had no problem traversing the grassy expanse to the gnarled tree. The Valkyrie commander disappeared from sight for a few long moments under the canopy of the tree’s outstretched branches. Then she emerged from the shadowy thicket and bounded back to Tess, springing over the grass with light feet.
“They were here,” Calliea said, eyes shining with a fierce hope. “They were here, and they were alive.”
Tess used the opportunity to pause, taking long, deep breaths. “How do you know?”
“I spoke to the tree, though its nymph was very slow to awaken,” Calliea replied.
“Probably because not many people talk to trees anymore in this world,” Tess said.
“The nymph said they headed west,” Calliea continued.
“Convenient,” remarked Tess, glancing at Jess. “Let’s find this shelter off to the west.”
Jess gave a single curt nod. “Are we concerned about being seen, or will these magic tattoos take care of all that?”
Tess smiled a little but looked to the Seelie Vaelanseld. “Niall, what do you think?”
“The runes will disguise our true appearance and help discourage curiosity in any mortal,” he said, “but they do not render us invisible.”
“Pairs, then,” said Jess, glancing at Tess for approval but confidence in his voice. “If we go by twos, it’ll be easier to conceal ourselves if there’s any trouble.”
Tess nodded. “Good plan. Keep each other within sight but at a good distance.” The group had already coalesced neatly into pairs: Jess at Tess’s side, Calliea with Niall, and Molly with Ramel. Kianryk circled in the grass, nose scenting the wind. Thunder rolled through the approaching clouds. Without any further delay, Tess turned toward the road cutting through the grass. Jess stayed a few steps ahead of her, his flinty gaze constantly sweeping their surroundings. The grass swayed in the rising wind and the air smelled like rain.
Tess focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Dizziness still hovered like a cloud around her head, and every time the Sword stirred, a new wave of nausea rippled through her body. She kept their immediate goal in the front of her mind: find shelter from the storm. It shortened into a mantra recited silently in time with her steps. Shelter from the storm. Five steps. Shelter from the storm. Five more, following Jess, trusting him to find the path. She forced herself not to dwell on the disorienting sickness of passing through the Gate, or the fact that Calliea hadn’t fully explained her conversation with the tree nymph. She could think about all that later, when they had found safe haven, both from the storm and the unknown creatures that could lurk in the hours of the night.
Just as they reached the road, Tess spotted the Glasidhe rocketing across the darkening sky. Her boots crunched on the gravel as they began walking along the shoulder of the country road. She stared down at the crumbling asphalt beneath her feet, stepping carefully over a broken beer bottle. The sharp edges of its amber glass glistened like daggers in the fading sunlight.
“Lady Bearer!” Haze bowed with a flourish at eye-level. She blinked as the brightness of his aura swirled into the surrounding air. “There is an abandoned dwelling along this road, a quarter hour as we fly.” He flicked his wings. “Forin and Farin have entered it and found no threats, though they remained there to perform a more thorough inspection.”
“And wh
at were they gonna do if they found someone inside?” asked Jess.
“If it was a Dark creature, they would kill it,” answered Haze seriously, keeping pace with them. “If it was a mortal, they would observe unseen and report their findings.”
“You’re capable fighters, but size does matter, especially in a strange world,” Jess told the Glasidhe messenger.
“I shall take your advice into consideration,” replied Haze with courtly grace, “as this is your world, and we are but scouts.”
Jess glanced at Haze with consideration on his weathered face, but then shrugged slightly and took the Glasidhe’s words at face value. He turned his attention back to Tess. “Think you can pick up the pace a little?” Thunder, close enough to shudder through the asphalt beneath their feet, underscored his question.
“I’m in no shape to run, but I can walk faster,” said Tess, gritting her teeth and forcing her legs to cover more ground with each stride. Jess nodded and adjusted his own speed. Tess glanced over her shoulder and glimpsed Calliea and Niall walking unconcernedly along the road, heads turned to one another and each one occasionally making a hand gesture to accompany their conversation. She stumbled on a crack in the road as punishment for her distraction. Jess grabbed her arm with a bruising grip to keep her from falling. She winced and thanked him. Somehow she was grateful that he hadn’t offered to carry her. Struggling through each step was preferable to underscoring her helplessness.
The first fat raindrops pattered onto the pavement as they drew closer to a shabby doublewide trailer. Tess wondered how Jess had known it existed. Had he spotted it somehow from back near the riverbed? The grass rippled as Kianryk passed them, slinking with predatory intent toward their destination. She tried to quicken her strides as the rain began in earnest, quickly becoming a torrential downpour. Water sluiced down the back of her neck and soaked into her braided hair. Haze landed on Jess’s shoulder and the older man raised his cupped hand to shield the Glasidhe from the worst of the rain.