“Stalks the Darkness,” he supplied, “though my daughter finds Darkness an easier mouthful.”
Gran smiled, “Darkness, I would like you and Gregory to lead another group in disposing of the Riven corpses and dispatching any stragglers. When you find allies, please report them to Whitethorn and Greenborrow. They will be in charge of bringing the wounded to me. If Lillian’s mother is willing to help?”
River nodded. “I have done many healings.”
“Good. We’ll need as many able bodies in the healing tent as soon as possible.”
Lillian, who had been silent until then, perked up. “You taught me basic first aid. I could help.”
“You could indeed. But only after several rounds of full biohazard decontamination protocol. You and Gregory both smell like you’ve been wallowing in a cesspool for the better part of the night.” She made a vague full body gesture at Lillian. “At present, you’d kill more souls than you would save.”
Lillian blushed, but nodded in agreement. “We ran afoul of a bog. It was richer than most.”
“To put it mildly,” Gregory rumbled, unable to keep quiet on the topic.
“Dawn isn’t far off,” Gran said and then paused as a newcomer approached. A tall sidhe warrior, her bow still at the ready and dressed in full battle armor, came up to them and executed a graceful bow to Gregory and Lillian before she pulled Gran aside for a moment. Gran conversed with the Fae for some time, and then met Gregory’s eyes. “It seems we have a more pressing deadline than just the rising sun. The human military is gathering itself. Some of their number must have made it back to base and notified their superiors.”
Lillian muttered an expletive and for once Gregory was inclined to agree, and perhaps add a few of his own.
Gran just sighed at them and took command. “Change of plans. The siren may have provided us our scapegoat when she sent all the townsfolk north. Lillian, you’re still on cleanup detail with the gargoyles. You’ll just have to do it without your brother and uncle. I need them to lead the Coven members that are uninjured and gather any Clan that can pass for human and take everyone to join the townsfolk as quickly as possible. Once there, they can pretend to blat in fear and confusion with the townsfolk, all the while using persuasion magic to swing the blame firmly on some super-secret government experiment gone wrong. The human authorities can spin it anyway they want. I don’t care, as long as we aren’t exposed to the general public.”
“That’s the craziest plan I’ve ever heard, but people will be more willing to believe that than the truth about magic and demons.” Lillian gave her head a little shake, her expression darkening as another emotion slid across her face. “The average person might believe that tall tale, but the military personnel in the woods tonight know otherwise.”
“Exactly.” Gran motioned another Fae to her side, this one a dire wolf already shifted to human form. “We need to get this done, because we know the human authorities will be all over us since the masquerade was our idea and it coincided with the Riven’s attack. We need to make it look no more or less strange here than what’s happening in the rest of the town with the townsfolk waking up from the siren’s enchantment.”
Nodding her head sharply, Lillian added, “So no bodies, body parts, blood or gore. But lots of leftovers from a big shindig suddenly abandoned when the partygoers wandered off after getting exposed to a—what, a hallucinogenic gas or something along those lines? Got it.”
“That’s my girl.” Gran said. “I’ll ask any other Fae not helping with the wounded or the cleanup to create a diversion in the forest and give the soldiers something more interesting to chase. A three prong diversion should work. Besides, we’ve flooded enough magic into the land tonight to confound any tech they will have with them. Do what you can and then meet back here in an hour and a half.”
Gregory gave himself a shake and stretched muscles stiffening in the cool night air.
“All right, boys,” Lillian said with a wave encompassing him and the two other gargoyles. “You heard Gran, let’s do this in record time because I want to shower, eat, and then dream about sleeping for a week.”
Gregory rumbled his agreement and they set off, starting at Lillian’s hamadryad and working their way out from there. He quickly showed Lillian how Elemental fire summoned from the Magic Realm served their needs much more efficiently than gasoline and a match.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The cleanup took less time than Lillian had estimated, but then again with three gargoyles ridding the land of taint and her own dryad magic repairing the damaged grasses and other landscaping around the spa, maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her. In the days to come, there would be more work far out in the forest, such as adding layers of protection to the dwellings of the other Fae, where wounded were even now being transported.
When they’d finished their task, they had gone back to meet up with Gran. Once there, she’d assigned Darkness and Shadowlight new jobs. Which, Lillian had noted with amusement, they accepted without as much as a flick of a questioning ear. After that, Gran had looked Lillian over from head to toe. Gregory got the same treatment, and then they were ordered ‘to go find a shower in all haste before someone expires from the smell alone.’
Hence, Lillian now made her way back to the house with little guilt about leaving others to contend with the military threat. Gregory seemed unconcerned as well—but that might just have been exhaustion. He padded along beside her, silent and physically ‘drooping’ with his ears at half mast, wings loose at his sides, and tail dragging in the dirt behind him.
“Come on,” she said as she ran her fingers through his mane and caressed his silky ears, “I’ll get a quick shower first and then make you something to eat while you get yours.” By her calculations, of the two of them, he’d done the lion’s share of the work during cleanup. It was only fair she hunt up food for them.
Gregory rumbled happily and leaned into her touch, though she didn’t know if he agreed with her idea or simply reacted to physical contact. They trudged up the back steps and crossed the veranda and into the house in a companionable silence.
It wasn’t until they had crossed through the kitchen and into the living room that it occurred they’d done this exact thing after the last Hunt. “You know, in the future, we might want to excuse ourselves the nights the Wild Hunt rides. We never seem to escape it unscathed.”
Beside her, Gregory tilted his head to look up at her and he started to chuckle. “No, I suppose we don’t, but imagine how much worse the outcome could have been if we weren’t there both times.”
“Hmm,” Lillian debated as she climbed the stairs to the second storey. “There’s that silver lining. Guess I’m glad all these aches and pains were gained for a higher purpose.”
It was the thought of hot water, shampoo, and copious amounts of body wash that sustained her to the top of the stairs. She shed her clothes as she crossed the threshold into her bedroom and continued on into the bathroom with the determined shuffle of the terminally drained.
Gregory plodded into the bathroom behind her. She’d originally wanted to shower alone so she could scrub off any incriminating evidence that she might have missed with her hasty wash in the pond before she’d smeared herself in the bog slime. But Gregory had proven a fantastic mind reader in the past, and if she tried to chase him from the bathroom now, he might get suspicious.
And a suspicious gargoyle was far too much for her to cross wits with in her present state of brain fog.
****
In the end, Lillian had emptied half a bottle of body wash on the two of them before Gregory had stopped crinkling his nose up every time he took a deep breath. She’d finished up first, and then gone in search of something to eat. To her surprise, she’d opened the door to the hall only to bump a tray with her toes. No harm had come to either her toes or the trays, of which there were two and both piled high with steaming food. A glance up and down the hall showed no hint as of how they’d gotten
there, but she’d bet a night’s sleep Gran’s invisible hand was involved even if she’d not stepped foot within the house herself for hours.
Gregory was still in the shower, so she set the trays on the bedside table and pulled the towel off her head and started to work on the snags in her hair. She’d managed about half when the bed shifted behind her and Gregory took the comb out of her hand. With a gentle nuzzle, he continued the work in silence. He was in one of his touchy-feely moods, but she didn’t mind, taking comfort in his presence. He slowly teased out the tangles with a gentleness and patience far greater than her usual efficient brushing.
In a moment of weakness, a part of her wanted him to catch some betraying thought or scent, to discover that they’d crossed a forbidden line because she was terrified that her worst fears might come to pass and she’d have to face that truth alone.
One hand strayed to her flat belly. Reason returned and she quickly retied her robe’s sash to make the move look natural. Now was not the time to fall apart or panic, especially when nothing might come of her foolish mistake. Gregory didn’t need yet another thing to worry about. She’d just have to dig deeper and find a bigger backbone.
“Lillian?”
Her stomach plummeted. Had he already discovered her shameful secret?
“Yes, love?” she asked, proud her voice didn’t shake or squeak.
“What are you afraid of? I can smell the sudden spike of fear.” A large muscular tail curved around her waist and tugged gently until she softened her stance and allowed her head to drop back against his chest. “Me?”
Breath froze in her lungs and she couldn’t answer as her heart did a strange little flip in her chest.
“Is it me you fear?”
Hearing uncertainty and dread in his tone, she turned and straddled his lap. She entwined the fingers of one hand with his and pressed the palm of her other hand against his chest where she could feel the throb of his heart. Then she raised their joined hands to her own breast and pressed his hand over hers. “No, never.”
“I would never harm you. Not even when I was fully under Tethys’s enchantments, could she have made me harm you.”
“Shh, I know. It’s not you I fear; it’s this,” she stroked the tattoo around his throat. “I’ve made so many mistakes and bad choices. I don’t know if I can ever make it right.”
He took her hands and cradled them in his larger one, and then in a courtly, old world way, he pressed a kiss to the back of each. “We will face this new obstacle as we have always faced challenges, together.”
She hugged him in a fierce embrace. I dearly hope so.
Gregory must have caught her thought for he dipped his muzzle down and nuzzled her damp hair for several moments before one large hand came up and started to caress it in long soothing strokes.
Even after her inner turmoil finally quieted, she continued to hold Gregory in a fierce grip until her arms grew tired, only then did she release him with a sigh and asked, “Are you hungry? Food magically walked to our door while you were still in the shower.”
He gave her a slight nod and she padded over to where she’d set the two plates.
****
Gregory was just finishing off his meal when his gaze took on a distant look, which meant he sensed something or someone was communicating with him. “What is it?” she asked, fearing bad news.
“Your hamadryad,” he rumbled, sounding happy. So perhaps it wasn’t bad news.
“My hamadryad can talk to you?” she prompted when he didn’t seem inclined to explain.
“Of course, she is the Sorceress,” he said, sounding perplexed at her question. “Though, from this distance, the best she can do is send emotions. When you are finished your meal, your hamadryad has something she wants us to see.”
Lillian glanced down at the food she’d been ‘worrying’ instead of eating. “I’m not actually that hungry. We can go now if you’d like.”
Gregory glanced at her plate of partly eaten food with a disapproving huff, but didn’t say anything, or, thank the gods, try to get her to eat more. Her stomach was twisted in too many nervous knots to know what to do with food at the moment. Maybe whatever good news her hamadryad had would help distract her from other, less pleasant things that had occurred this night.
She tilted her head toward the door. Still Gregory hesitated.
“Please,” she said, sounding as tired as she felt. “I could use a little good news.”
Gregory nodded, and led her from the cottage. Dawn was a pink hint on the horizon as they made their way back to her grove, where they’d battled the Riven not five hours before.
Lillian trudged along beside Gregory thinking that whatever news her hamadryad wanted to share, it damn well better be good.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Tethys fanned her upper body with water, the gesture more out of routine than necessity for the air was cool and moist in the Lord of the Underworld’s cliffside temple. Absently, she speculated if that was natural, for she could hear and scent the salty-brine of the ocean, or if the pleasantly hospitable climate was his doing.
The pool she presently basked in was likely new as well, or perhaps simply a bit of repurposed architecture. She eyed the great temple where it reared high above, with its terraces and stairs cut into the rock. There were five terraces and hundreds of steps composing the entrance to the megalithic structure. Greenery and the sparkle of waterfalls and pools dotted each level.
Odd though it was, Death’s domain held more life than what she’d seen of the Battle Goddess’s lands when Tethys arrived in spirit form beside Lillian’s oldest hamadryad.
The hamadryad had shown her many things about the goings on within the Magic Realm. Much had changed over the millennia she’d been gone. And yet, much was still the same. She was home at last. And she wouldn’t sit idly aside while dark forces planned to abuse its bounty.
With a burst of empathy and what Tethys would have called well-wishing in a flesh and blood being, the hamadryad had sent her to the Lord of the Underworld’s temple.
She’d awoken in this pool some time ago to find her spirit housed in her old body—or what was a perfect duplicate.
Apparently, the Lord of the Underworld had given her spirit a body once more and then just left her here.
To think?
Perhaps.
Was she to become a tool in the war against his twin? A tool he had no plans for at present but would use at a later time? Her present location didn’t look like a prison. Behind her, the open cliffside vista and the great blue ocean called to her spirit. Reaching out with her siren’s senses, she learned that the drop from the terrace edge to the ocean below was a goodly distance, but not one that would harm her.
Freedom was only a short distance away, she could even follow the meandering path of the streams and small waterfalls to the edge of the cliff.
Death’s actions were not what she’d expected.
Nothing here was.
He hadn’t been chained as the hamadryad had shown the Battle Goddess was. At least not by any physical means. His chains were self-imposed, created by the considerable power of his iron control and the Divine Ones’ duality curse placed upon the Twins. As long as one was imprisoned, so too was the other.
His was a willing, noble self-sacrifice and she now knew why the gargoyles revered him. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to make such a sacrifice for the good of all else.
Deep in her own thoughts, she missed when he first emerged from his temple.
The distance was considerable, even then, his massive size dwarfed the small trees and lush greenery lining the rough-hewn stairs cut into the cliff. The immense strides of his horse-like lower body devoured the stairs twenty at a time. Each hoof was as massive as her entire body.
Tethys had seem many strange species, both natural and magically altered, but perhaps none as unique as the form Death wore.
At a glance, she was reminded of the old-world centaurs with their equin
e bodies and human-like torsos. But that was where the similarities ended. Two massive wings erupted from just behind his equine shoulders. The membrane stretched between the stout bones looked soft and supple, not unlike a gargoyle’s wings, and they were not the only gargoyle-like attributes. Instead of an upper body like a centaur possessed, Death’s was far closer to a gargoyle’s. Great, glossy black horns swept back from his forehead as they reached for the sky. A thick mane cascaded down past his shoulders. It fluttered in the strong breeze blowing in from the ocean beyond, and he reached up with two of his four arms to tie it into a knot behind his head. His other two arms remained in place, his fists loosely clasping the hilts of two of his swords where they were tucked under his wings. She spotted the hilts of the other two poking out from behind his shoulders, half hidden in his mane.
While she studied him in silence, he folded his legs under himself and sat next to her pool. Even then he still blocked out the sun and an involuntary shudder ran through her body.
“I thank you for housing my spirit within my body once more,” she inclined her head in a show of respect, “for there is much I must tell you.”
“Your spirit already told me all that has gone wrong in the Mortal Realm.” Death’s voice flowed across her senses, dark, full of mystery, and utterly beautiful.
Beguiling. The word was invented to describe his voice.
The power contained in her own voice was nothing in comparison to his. She wondered once again why he’d given her back her body. What use could he possibly have for her?
“Others would say I gave you life on a whim.”
Others? Who would be so foolish to mock death?
Instead she said, “But you don’t do anything on a whim, do you?”
Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2) Page 26