by Anne Bishop
"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 wondered about," she said.
Morag's attention remained focused on the crows. Eventually she relaxed and look
ed 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?"
Ashk hesitated, then shook her head. "It's not something I know, it's something I feel."
"Messages from the spirits of the woods?" Selena asked.
Ashk jolted, too startled for a moment to reply. How—? Of course. Selena must have heard the story about how the Fae came to be, just as Rhyann had.
"It is my gift that hears the warning, not my head," she said slowly.
Selena nodded. "Then it's a warning we should heed."
Liam shook his head. "We aren't sure the Black Coats are moving, but we are sure there was something close to the Old Place last night."
"It's easy enough," Donovan said. "I'll ride to the village and on to Squire Thurston's place to coordinate the defense of the village and the guarding of the main road."
"I'll go with Donovan," Aiden said. "I can take care of sending and receiving messages. Lyrra can do the same here."
"I—" Lyrra began to protest. She pressed her lips together, then took a deep breath and nodded. "All right. Yes, you're right. If the Bard and the Muse can't relay messages, no one can. Gwenn, Gwynith, and Rhyann can help me with that—and with keeping a record of any wounded who may be brought here."
Ashk walked over to her horse. As she swung into the saddle, she found comfort in the feel of a full quiver of arrows resting against her back. "Let's ride."
"The men are ready, Master Adolfo," the guard captain said.
"You understand your orders?" Adolfo asked as he sipped his wine. No sign of disapproval that he took wine so early in the morning. Not today. Never again.
"Yes, Master. One arm of the army will seize the village. The other arm will take possession of that low rise, set up the catapults, and crush the Fae and the other witch-lovers when they move against it."
"Let it rain fire."
"Yes, Master."
"But I must have some prisoners," Adolfo said firmly. "Males." He waited until the captain nodded. "You may tell the men one other thing. Today I will give fifty gold coins to every man who kills a witch."
"Fifty!" With effort, the guard captain regained his professional stance. "They'll kill every female they encounter in an effort to claim the reward."
Adolfo smiled. "Yes, they probably will. But the foul creatures I want are easy enough to identify. Most of them wear an ornament hidden beneath their clothing. A five-pointed star within a circle. Any man who brings me one of those ornaments—and the tongue of the bitch who wore it—will receive the gold."
He saw a glint of greed in the captain's eyes and did not disapprove of it.
"I'll tell the men," the captain said.
Tell the other captains, Adolfo amended silently. "Go on, then."
"We'll have the Old Place cleansed by nightfall," the captain promised.
"A pretty thought," Adolfo murmured as he watched the man leave with more haste than dignity. He drained his wine glass and set it aside. "A very pretty thought."
Breanna walked toward Nuala's grave, Keely a few steps ahead of her. Keely, still grieving and displaying an unshakable stubbornness, had insisted on walking to the grave that morning. The men who stood the last watch until dawn had already left since it was safe to leave the grave unattended in daylight. Clay, Rory, and Falco had agreed to ride into the village for supplies they'd run short of with so many people to feed. Fiona and some of the other women threw themselves into household chores with grim single-mindedness, but work hadn't provided solace for Nuala's daughter or granddaughter. So the two of them walked to the grave in order to touch the earth, feel the air.
A healthy walk, Nuala used to call it with a smile. It was that. For the first time since she'd found Nuala, Breanna felt a tightness in her chest and shoulders ease. Even in daylight, the grave glowed in its circle of moonlight. She wasn't sure if that light simply offered some comfort to the living or was protection for the dead, but she was grateful for this gift from the Lady of the Moon.
As they reached the grave, Keely stopped and cocked her head. "Do you hear something?"
No, she didn't, but her nose picked up an unpleasant smell in the air that made her uneasy. A . . . decaying smell. Not wanting to think about why she might be smelling something like that, she summoned a light wind and guided it over the crescent of rose bushes Nuala had planted years ago. Even though the bushes were trimmed every year, they were chest-high now, and, despite being so late in the season, there were still enough roses blooming to scent the air.
"I do hear something," Keely said. "There's someone behind the rose bushes, crying. It sounds like a child." She moved toward the bushes, altering her course to come around the nearest end.
Breanna wasn't listening. The wind had stirred the long grass on the bank of the brook, revealing a patch of red cloth for a moment. Puzzled, she walked toward the spot where she'd glimpsed the cloth.
"Hello?" Keely said, moving closer to the bushes. "Are you lost?"
A small sound. A click of pebble on stone. Breanna looked toward the bridge and saw the three riders, still distant, heading toward her. Liam, she thought affectionately. Coming for his daily brotherly inspection.
"Don't cry. You don't have to be afraid. Are you lost?"
Another click of pebble on stone. Another small sound, muted but still filled with agony. Dismissing Liam and his companions, she turned her attention back to the brook and moved closer.
Keely rounded the end of the crescent, stopped when she was close to the middle of it, and asked, "Who are you?"
Ashk reined in so hard and fast her horse almost tumbled over in its effort to obey. She patted its neck as both comfort and praise, but her attention was on the light wind blowing in her face.
Selena and Liam pulled up and looked back at her.
"Ashk?" Selena said.
"Can't you smell it?" A tremor went through Ashk's body. "That smell. That scent."
Selena turned her face into the wind. "I don't—" She gasped, then twisted in the saddle to look at the Hunter. "It's coming from the direction of Nuala's grave. And there's someone near there."
"Breanna," Liam whispered. He whipped his horse into
a frenzied gallop, leaving Selena and Ashk racing to keep up with him.
Get away from there, Breanna, Ashk thought as she rode recklessly toward the bridge. Get away from there!
Breanna felt her gorge rise as she reached the bank and looked down. Fear hammered in her chest, in her head.
Not a piece of red cloth. Part of a bloody arm. The small man had been ripped apart before the remains had been flung up on the bank, abandoned.
She saw other things now. Mangled bodies of water sprites caught among the stones. Blood still dripping over the stones into the water.
"Who are you?" Keely asked again, her voice now holding a touch of fear.
Blood still dripping over the stones. Breanna shivered.
Pebble on stone.
She whipped her head toward the sound so fast, she felt a muscle pull in her neck.
The water sprite clung to the rocks, her side nothing more than ripped flesh and broken bones. "Run, Breanna," she whispered. "Moonlight. Circle. Can't. . . touch . . . circle. Run."
The sprite stared at her with dying eyes as Breanna backed away from the water. Fresh blood. Fresh death. "Keely?" She turned to look for her mother, the woman who had remained a child. She saw Keely's head and shoulders above the rose bushes. "Keely?"
"W-what are you?" Keely took a step back.
"Keely! Get away from there!" Breanna ran toward the rose bushes. The circle would protect them. She could warn Liam that there was danger here before he got too close. But first. . .
She heard Liam shouting at her, but she didn't stop, just ran.
Keely spun around, stumbled, and grabbed the rose bushes to keep from falling, screaming in pain and terror.
Breanna rounded the end of the crescent and stopped, too frozen to do more than stare.
They were big. Much bigger than the ones that had attacked her and Liam a few weeks ago. And . . . different. Not wings, but flaps of skin that stretched from hips to front limbs, like the squirrels that could glide from tree to tree.