Traitor's Son: The Raven Duet Book #2

by Hilari Bell

  Now that he was looking, the Lab’s shadow had angular pricked ears as well—even the beagle, with its short coat and stubby legs, cast the shadow of a wolf.

  The hair on Jase’s arms stood up as goose flesh popped out on most of his body.

  The enemy had found him.

  He didn’t have time to wait for his grandmother to come home, realize that Jase hadn’t gone back to take a room at the resort, and then organize anyone who hadn’t been bewitched. Now he knew what, who, had been stirring up the villagers!

  But whatever search party his grandmother raised, it wouldn’t get here before his enemies did. And he’d be here when Otter Woman and the football players arrived. The dogs, with their wolf shadows, would see to that.

  Despite the urgency of the moment, wonder washed over Jase. This wasn’t invisible healing on some invisible ley. This was real magic, in the real, daylight world.

  Magic that might kill him, if he couldn’t escape.

  Why hadn’t he figured out some way to contact Raven! But even if he had her com code, it wouldn’t help him now. When her enemies showed up, Jase should hand over the pouch just to serve her right for being so shortsighted!

  He didn’t want to hand it over.

  That old woman, Otter Woman, had upset his grandmother laying this trap. And she’d made Jase’s grandfather, the whole village, more angry with his father—just on the chance that he’d come here and she could capture him. But how could he—

  A scratching sound drew his eyes to the foot of the tree. The poodle was digging again, this time at the base of the trunk, and a chill ran over Jase’s skin as he saw how this looser dirt flew from under its busy paws.

  The husky, whose shadow almost matched its form, got up and started digging too, and then the Lab and the beagle joined in.

  How much was left of the roots that held this tree upright? It felt sturdy, but the lack of bark told him it had died a long time ago.

  They can’t kill you themselves, Raven had said. But they’re a lot more adept at using human tools than I thought they’d be.

  Maybe the plan wasn’t to use the dogs to keep him pinned till they could come for him. Maybe it was to take the pouch off his mangled corpse after the dogs—tools of this world—had done the job for them. If Jase understood the setup correctly, their fracking rules would allow that just fine.

  He had to get out of here. But how? He had a pouch of magical healing dust hanging around his neck. Could it break spells, as well as heal leys?

  Jase pulled out his com pod and tried to connect with it, with its essence, as he had in the taiga. He wasn’t attached to his pod like he was to the Tesla, but machines did feel . . . there to him. He reached out to that feeling of presence, and took a tight grip on the tree trunk. If the power surge he’d felt in the taiga knocked him off his branch, he was done for. Fumbling, because he had to use the arm that was wrapped around the trunk to hold the pod, he pulled out the pouch and extracted a pinch of dust.

  “Work,” he whispered, and scattered the dust over the com pod.

  No power slammed through him this time, but hope still flickered as he pressed the on button. Nothing.

  Frack.

  He tried the dogs next, climbing down to the lowest branch and dumping a small handful of dust on the beagle’s back—he wasn’t about to descend and try to bond with them!

  The beagle, busily deepening the hole at the base of the tree, didn’t even look up. Its wolf shadow never wavered.

  The poodle had stopped digging to watch him descend. Now it leaped up, higher than the husky had, and Jase kicked it away.

  It yelped and fell, but Jase was now watching the shadows as warily as he watched the dogs, and as the poodle landed its shadow changed to that of a curly-haired dog with floppy ears.

  It shook itself, whining in confusion, and that other shadow flowed over the true one. But sudden pain had shocked it out of the spell, at least for a moment. And they could be hurt.

  Was it his imagination that the tree felt less sturdy now than when he’d climbed it? Jase hated the idea of hurting some helpless enchanted dog—but not as much as he hated the idea of the four of them ripping him apart.

  He climbed carefully back up the tree and broke off the biggest branch he could manage. It might be just that he was moving pretty wildly, in a higher part of the tree, but it wobbled in a way that told him he didn’t have much time.

  Jase buttoned his blazer, for whatever protection it might provide, and descended to the lowest branch.

  “OK, dog. Want to jump again?”

  Poodles were supposed to be smart, and this one lived up to the rep. It looked up at him for a moment and then went back to digging.

  The tree was definitely wobbling now. Jase gripped the branch with both legs and one hand, leaned down as far as he dared, and swung his improvised club.

  It struck the Lab’s shoulder, knocking it into a yelping roll. But it lunged to its feet, snarling, and leaped at Jase where he dangled from the tree.

  This time Jase was ready, and swung the branch as hard as he could. In sheer self-preservation he aimed for the dog’s head, but wielding the heavy branch one-handed, he hit its nose instead.

  It fell to the ground with a sharp cry of pain . . . and the pricked ears vanished from its shadow.

  The Lab licked its nose, whimpering, then dropped into a crouch and scuttled away.

  He could break the spell! And if he didn’t, they’d kill him. Jase leaned down, aiming for the poodle next, but he’d underestimated the pack.

  The husky jumped up and locked its teeth on Jase’s sleeve, its whole weight dangling from his right arm. Jase gripped the branch with all the strength of his desire to survive . . . and the tree began to tip.

  Slowly at first, slowly enough for Jase to swing the growling husky against the tree’s trunk hard enough to make the dog let go. Slowly enough for Jase to release the branch with his legs, swing down to land on his feet, and scramble out of the dogs’ hole.

  He smacked the beagle hard on its muddy snout as he darted past, and it yipped, but Jase was too busy racing out of the path of the falling giant to check its shadow.

  He ran to the nearest tree, a live one, and put his back against the trunk before the echoes of the crash had faded. Only the husky and the poodle stalked him now. The husky circling aggressively, waiting for a chance to spring, the poodle prancing out of reach of the stick, watching him with bright, intent eyes.

  Jase went for the husky since it was closest. This time he was aiming for the dog’s nose, so of course he missed and struck its head. The dog sank to the ground, its eyes half closed. Hopefully he’d only stunned it—but better for it to die than him!

  Jase stepped away from the tree and went after the poodle, quickly, hoping to take it out before the others’ wolf shadows returned.

  “Come on. You want me?” He was shouting now, not sure if he hoped to drive it off or force it to attack. The poodle backed up, but its predatory gaze never shifted.

  A roar shattered the stillness, and the poodle flinched.

  Jase stumbled back to the tree, club raised, as a grizzly erupted from the forest and roared again.

  The dogs fled, the husky stumbling behind the other three. Jase didn’t have any attention to spare for their shadows now. He’d have run with them, but running wouldn’t save him.

  If the grizzly was determined to kill him, nothing Jase could do would stop it, but the experts said it was better to fight than to do nothing.

  Jase gripped his club and waited. Maybe it would ignore him. Maybe it would go away. He was trying not to breathe when a rush of wings hurtled down through the branches.

  The raven lit on the tip of his club, heavier than he’d expected. Then it dropped to the ground, bulged, and grew into a slender naked girl.

  Who stood between him and the bear.

  “Get behind me,” Jase hissed, even as he prayed she had some magic to deal with this.

  She glanced back over
her shoulder and flashed him a smile, then turned to the great beast, who’d settled on its haunches.

  “You see what I mean?” she said. “If this isn’t ‘direct interference,’ I don’t know what is.”

  “We tol’ them they can’t attack your human themselvez. For this, they’re uzing the toolz of this world. Azzz allowed.” The bear’s mouth didn’t handle English very well, and goose flesh broke out on Jase’s arms once more—though a shapeshifter, even one speaking English in animal form, was a lot less scary than a grizzly bear. Jase kept the branch, just in case.

  “They may be using the tools of this world,” Raven said, “but they’ve also used a lot of ley power, both in setting up this trap and springing it. If they can draw power from the ley then I’ll have to do it too. And I don’t want to weaken the leys more than they already are.”

  “True.” The bear looked thoughtful. “Unnaseptable. We’ll deal with them. They’ll spen’ no more power in this world. Not an erg more.”

  “You speak for the neutrals?” Raven asked hopefully.

  “It will be our edic’.”

  The bear nodded its massive head, rose, and lumbered back into the woods. Jase lowered the branch. His fingers were so stiff, it felt like he had to peel them away from the rough surface.

  Raven turned, her face alight with joy.

  “You did it!”

  Chapter 8

  “Why can’t you ever be naked when I’m in shape to appreciate it,” Jase grumbled. He’d given her his blazer so her nudity would stop distracting him—it didn’t seem to bother her. She walked down the trail beside him as if the rocks didn’t hurt her bare feet at all. It had taken Jase five minutes to locate the shoe the husky had stolen, in the wreckage of the tree.

  Soon they’d be walking on the sandy beach, bypassing the village. Jase didn’t want to meet any more dogs.

  “Do you realize what this means?” Raven was bubbling with excitement. “Bear, who has great influence among the neutrals, is going to enforce the edict that none of the others can use ley energy in this world! He’s already forbidden them to threaten you themselves. Without ley power, they can’t manipulate anything that belongs to this dimension. No more mind-slaved bikers! No more attack dogs! We’ll be able to finish healing this ley with no trouble at all, assuming you can reach it through sea and air. You didn’t drop the pouch or anything, right?”

  “Of course not.” Jase felt to make sure it was still there as he spoke. “I used some of the dust trying to break the spell on those dogs, but—”

  “How much did you use?”

  “Not too much.” Jase pulled out the pouch to show her. “I couldn’t touch them, so I thought it would take—”

  “It’s half gone! How could you waste it like that?”

  “I was trying to save my life,” said Jase, nettled. “I didn’t have any way to get in touch with you, so I had to improvise. There’s plenty left for two more healings. It only took a pinch in the taiga. And it’s not like . . . Ah, you don’t need this for other leys, do you?”

  “No,” said Raven. “That dust is matched to the signature of this ley, and healing this ley is all it does. So don’t go tossing it over your car!”

  “I wouldn’t have had to use it on the dogs, if I’d had some way to reach you,” Jase pointed out. “How do I get in touch with you when I need to?”

  She could hardly deny it was necessary, after today.

  “That’s tricky,” Raven admitted. “Even if you bought me one of those pod-stick things, I’d have to abandon it the next time I changed form or went home. And I’ve got to go home soon,” she added. “I want to make sure Bear doesn’t leave any loopholes for them to squeeze through, and that everyone who opposes me gets the message. Once I’ve done that, we can heal the next two nexuses this weekend. And no one will be able to stop us.”

  They’d reached the beach while she was speaking, and waves rushed and receded beside them. Jase thought he could find the sea’s life energy without much trouble. Air . . . Well, he’d have time to try again, if he needed to.

  “What about my dreams?” he asked. “According to you, I’m not in this world then.”

  “True,” said Raven. “But I’m sure I can convince the neutrals that killing you is direct interference no matter where they do it. If they kill my chosen healer, then according to our agreement they give up any right to meddle in this world and I’m free to do whatever I like. If I go now, you’ll be able to sleep sound tonight.”

  “So if you can’t use a com pod, how do I get in touch with you?” Jase persisted. “There’s got to be some shapeshifter way.”

  “There are several,” Raven admitted. “But I’d have to use ley energy to create any of them, and right now I don’t dare use even a spark! Not if I’m going to win my argument. If you need to talk to me, tie a bright-colored rag to the balcony rail near your window and I’ll contact you as soon as I can.”

  That would be easier to explain than a sign saying “Call me,” but . . .

  “It’s awfully low-tech,” Jase complained. “Low-magic, too.”

  Her clear laugh pealed out. “You don’t have enough magic in your life right now? Besides, you can handle most things yourself. You just proved that, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Jase brightened. “I did take out all but the poodle, didn’t I?”

  “You’d have taken down that ferocious poodle too, in a few more minutes.” She managed to keep her voice sober, but the warm dark eyes danced.

  “Hey, that poodle was ferocious! And their shadows . . . What happened to those dogs?”

  “Those shadows were the visible manifestation of the aspect of the wolf.” She’d turned serious now. “And inducing that aspect, which all dogs carry, was a necessary part of their trap. Because those dogs, in their true being, would never even bite a human, much less kill one.”

  Cold crept over Jase once more. “And in wolf mode they would have?”

  “Yes,” said Raven. “But you stopped them. And when Bear saw what they’d done, it tipped the balance in our favor. Without the neutral’s intervention—”

  “Jase!” The shout came from far down the beach. He looked up and saw his grandmother emerge from the woods and start toward him.

  “Go back to Anchorage,” Raven told him. “I’ll contact you as soon as it’s safe to start the next healing.”

  She’d stepped behind him, which was fine for now, but how was he going to explain this near-naked girl to his grandmother?

  “If we’re safe now, make it next weekend.” Jase waved to the older woman. “I don’t think I’ll be in the mood to commune with nature for a while. But how are we going to get out of this?”

  There was no answer. When he turned to look back, his blazer lay crumpled on the sand.

  ***

  She could have shifted into a sand flea, or even just disintegrated and gone back to her own dimension. If you could “manifest your physicality” whenever you chose, presumably you could unmanifest as well.

  Jase folded the jacket over his arm so his grandmother wouldn’t see the rents left by the husky’s teeth, and told her that his grandfather had refused to talk to him, and he’d decided to take a room at the resort after all. He’d go back to Anchorage in the morning.

  She protested, but even in the silvery twilight Jase could see the weariness of a shift that had ended at midnight, and the deeper, more painful exhaustion of dealing with the gulf between her husband and her son.

  Had he added to that grief? Or was she glad that he was still trying?

  It felt awkward, but Jase kissed her cheek in parting. The next time his mother came down to visit Gima, he’d go with her. He might not be able to solve the problem, but he could help them try.

  ***

  Jase fell into a bed at the resort, slept through the night, and reached Anchorage just in time for dinner. He made sure that his father’s firm had no driving jobs for him that weekend, and felt his face heat at the knowing look hi
s parents exchanged. But he was going on a date with Raven, sort of. Maybe he could bring a picnic too, and a couple of soft, thick blankets!

  ***

  Halfway through Friday-morning algebra, one of the school’s councilors pulled Jase out of class and told him that his grandmother was being flown to Anchorage General, and his parents wanted him to meet them there.

  Jase broke speed limits all the way to the hospital, but he didn’t care. What could have happened to Gima? The councilor hadn’t known any details beyond the message she’d delivered. His grandmother had looked tired and stressed, but she hadn’t seemed to be ill. Not in pain or out of breath. Even if some remnant of the enemies’ spell had lingered in the village, Jase couldn’t believe anyone would harm his grandmother. There was always the possibility of an accident, but the resort’s medics could treat most injuries. In fact, they could handle everything short of major surgery, and part of the deal his father had made for the resort included medical treatment for all local residents.

  So whatever it was, it must be serious.

  Jase slammed the Tesla to a stop in the first parking space he found and hurried into the hospital. He was in sight of the information desk when his mother intercepted him. Her mouth was tight with worry, but she wasn’t weeping, and Jase’s worst fear eased.

  “What happened to Gima? Will she be all right?”

  “Your grandmother’s in a coma.” His mother’s voice was determinedly level. “She didn’t wake up this morning, and when your grandfather couldn’t wake her he called the medics. They haven’t found a cause yet, but her breathing, heart, all her vital signs are stable, and they’re running brain scans now. We should get the results any time.”

  She led him into the elevator as she spoke, pressing the button for the sixteenth floor.

  “How did this happen?” Jase asked. “She was fine a few days ago.”

  “That’s one of the things they don’t know yet,” his mother said. “I just hope your father and grandfather don’t say something unforgivable before she wakes up.”

  Jase stared at her. “Surely they’re too worried about Gima to fight with each other now.”