by Ann Gimpel
“Bet the humans didn’t know.” Zoe grinned.
“Nope. Why would they? We look just like them, and enough forest stretched on all sides, we could shift and remain hidden from prying eyes. If they saw me, they simply assumed I was one more vulture on the hunt for carrion.”
“Where do you want us to be?” Recco was back, a duvet tucked beneath one arm along with two pillows.
Zoe’s eyes lit with love as she glanced at him, and Moira battled jealousy. She wanted someone special in her life too. Never mind the feeling was small and petty and unreasonable. Never mind she’d spent her entire adult life alone. She gave herself a good, swift mental kick in the ass.
Zoe slid out of her seat and joined her husband. “We’ll be over there.” She pointed. “You should be near us.”
“How near?” Moira couldn’t help the resentment beneath her words.
“Close enough we can map out how we’re going to put the ley lines back together in the quickest possible time without ending up fried to a cinder like poor Rowana.”
“Got it. Be right there.” Moira was grateful for the relative darkness in the bar and hoped no one would notice her face. Judging from how hot it felt, she must have turned bright red.
After a final, longing glance at the well-stocked bar—she could drink all she wanted later, assuming there was a later—she walked to Leif and told him where they’d be before joining Zoe and Recco.
“Good thing you mentioned Rowana,” Moira said and settled on the floor next to Zoe “I hadn’t exactly forgotten her dragging herself out of that magical pit by hanging onto the ley lines, but it wasn’t in the forefront of my mind, either. How will we work with the lines if we can’t touch them?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Recco said. “And Zoe and I talked about it. Remember, I was in that pit along with Ro and the other three women.”
“So was I.” Moira spat out the words. She’d made a huge effort to block out the incident that had killed Rowana. The eagle Shifter saved them by sacrificing herself, and Moira still felt guilty and responsible she hadn’t done more. Her eyes burned with unshed tears; she blinked them aside.
Leif strode to the corner they’d staked out and sank onto his haunches, keeping distance between himself and Moira. At least it’s what she thought he was doing, but she could have misinterpreted how he’d positioned himself.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but we need to cover something. The ley lines pack quite a wallop with their electrical load, so touching them directly won’t work. Before they left, Karin and Ketha developed an oblique way to address the problem, and my whale Shifter added to their strategy with ideas of his own.”
“We were just talking about that.” Moira nodded tersely. “Recco and I were there when Rowana grabbed the lines to forge a way out of the dark mage’s enchantment.”
Sadness creased Leif’s forehead, and he said something in the dolphin’s tongue, a series of bleats that radiated sorrow before switching to English. “I am sorry I did not get to meet the eagle Shifter. She had courage, that one.”
“Aye, that she did,” Zoe agreed.
“I argued with her,” Recco cut in. “Told her I should go first, but she said my magic wasn’t strong enough, grabbed the lines, and shouted for us to follow her.”
Leif extended a hand. Moira felt the zing of magic, and a blue-white nimbus formed around his spread fingers. “Tap into my power,” he instructed. “Feel what I did, how I’ve protected my hand. This won’t shield you forever, but it should be enough for us to weave the shredded filaments back together. We won’t have to do all of them. Even a small percentage will encourage the lines to repair themselves.”
Moira opened her magical reservoir and linked to Leif. A shock ran from the top of her head to her toes. By the goddess, his magic was strong. If this was what was left after he’d severed his ties with the Witches, what the hell had it been like before?
Setting her amazement aside, she delved into the underpinnings of what he’d done. The thought of her flesh smoking and burning from the inside out and sloughing off her bones like Rowana’s had done scared the crap out of her. Rowana had known she was signing her own death warrant. Moira only hoped she’d be as brave as the eagle Shifter when mortality stared her in the face.
“We will do what is required,” her vulture spoke solemnly, and Moira silently thanked it for its steadfast presence. It was usually dour and critical, but maybe that went with the territory.
Magic shimmered around Leif’s hand. “Did you all absorb this casting? I don’t wish to squander power unnecessarily.”
“Aye,” Zoe said.
“Yeah. I’m good,” Recco seconded.
“Me too,” Moira murmured. She loved the feel of Leif’s magic and didn’t want to let go of her connection to him. It soothed her, reminded her of a time when the world wasn’t teetering on the brink of annihilation.
The glowing halo snuffed out abruptly as Leif withdrew his power. “All right. Now, we wait, but I have a feeling this will play out fast.”
“Why?” Moira wanted to dig as deep into the dolphin shifter as she could, understand how his mind processed information.
Leif set his jaw in such a tight line a muscle danced beneath one eye. “If Amphitrite is behind this, she ran through a lot of magic during the Kelpie attack.”
“But she did nothing,” Zoe protested.
“How much power does it take for you to guard a secret?” Leif countered.
Understanding kindled in Zoe’s gaze. “Aye, a lot if the person in question is in the midst of others with magic, but I wasn’t paying any attention to her.”
“Never occurred to me,” Recco admitted. “But then why should it have? She’s a goddess, and I’m still in awe such things are other than the purview of fairytale books.”
“I did look closely,” Leif said. “At both her and Poseidon. He knows there’s no love lost between us, and that I don’t trust him.”
“What’d you find?” Moira asked, almost not wanting him to answer.
“Poseidon was the same way he always is. Tap the surface, and you find a pissed-off liege, who’s annoyed as hell he has to do anything beyond snapping his fingers before the world falls at his feet fawning over him.”
“How about her?” Moira urged.
“Aye, since she’s the one you suspect,” Zoe cut in.
Leif hesitated and looked away. It was dim in their corner of the bar, but Moira thought a flush spread over his well-formed cheekbones.
He tossed his head back, chin tilted at a defiant angle. “The queen of the sea made it clear long ago she’d welcome me to her bed. I recognized her invitation for the snake pit it was bound to turn into and declined her offer.”
The white-hot dart of jealousy that had pricked Moira receded. She’d been ready to tear Amphitrite limb from limb but recognized she was being foolish, reactive rather than deliberate.
“Because of that,” Leif went on, speaking stiffly, “I took care to be subtle about my incursion into her mind. Didn’t want her to misread my presence as interest that had suddenly blossomed.”
“And?” Recco crooked two fingers Leif’s way.
Leif shrugged. “And, nothing. I didn’t find a thing, but I also didn’t dig very deep. The absence of even surface thoughts led me to believe she was shielding herself very carefully.”
Magic flashed, hot and bright from across the room. Ketha, Karin, and the whale stepped through a portal that glowed with a purplish haze.
Leif sprang to his feet and hurried to where they stood. All three gasped like landed fishes, blowing hard.
Moira scrambled upright, as did Recco and Zoe. Everyone hastened toward the gateway. It winked out just as Moira reached it.
“We did it,” Karin announced.
“And in the nick of time,” the whale broke in. “If we’d been even half an hour later, we might have lacked sufficient power to pull this off.”
“It was bad enough,” Ke
tha added, “we shored up the ley lines in a few key spots. To ensure we’d be able to return to apprehend our thief.”
Moira inhaled raggedly. Switching to her psychic view where she could see the ley lines, and traveling to the dimension where they lived, were two entirely different things. It was like a world within a world where Earth was wrapped in the lines that maintained its integrity. Humans felt the backlash when they did stupid things like set off atomic bombs that blew gaping holes in the ley lines’ warp and weft, but they had no idea what they’d tampered with.
Daide hurried to Karin’s side and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. “Proud of you,” he murmured close to her ear.
“Be proud later,” she shot back. “Keep an eye on those fucking lines. You’re the only one on our team who doesn’t need breathing space.”
“My coyote and I are on it,” he reassured her.
Nervous energy nagged Moira, making it tough to stand still. Latching her hands behind her, she paced from one end of the bar to the other. The time for talking was past. Either their trap would work, or not. Even if it didn’t, a group of them would still need to patch the lines. Unfortunately, they’d be providing a fresh source of magic for whoever they were trying to catch too.
Nothing to be done about any of it. She cast a sidelong glance around the bar, drawn to Leif’s palpable energy.
“Karin! I think I felt something.” Daide’s words held excitement edged with trepidation.
Moira clamped her jaws tight. If he was right, this had played out far quicker than any of them assumed it would. She hurried to where Karin and Daide stood in the middle of a tight knot of Shifters.
“Yes,” Karin said. “They fell for the bait.”
“On my way,” Leif yelled. “Who’s with me?”
“But we had a plan,” Karin protested.
“You’re too depleted to return so soon,” he told her.
She didn’t contradict him, just rattled off a string of numbers. “These are the coordinates where we planted markers.”
“I’ll go.” One of the whales stepped forward.
“And me.” Moira stood tall. Maybe she was a fool, but her magic was as robust as any of the land Shifters, except maybe Karin or Aura. Ketha was strong, but in a different way that powered her seer magic. Besides, her power was as diminished as Karin’s.
Shifter power was synergistic; Moira’s would potentiate the sea Shifters’ gifts.
“Are you certain?” Leif cast worried eyes her way.
“Yes. Let’s go.” Moira summoned magic to forestall further discussion. She and her vulture would make this happen.
Power boiled around her, and she sprang through a portal along with Leif and the whale.
5
Unfamiliar Magic
Leif would have preferred almost anyone but Moira. He was worried he’d chose protecting her over their duty, and it couldn’t happen that way. The air thinned as it always did in the paths between worlds, and he reflexively slowed his breathing. It wasn’t unlike what he did as a dolphin to make his air last for long periods underwater.
Lights flared around them. White. Green. Violet. He slitted his eyes against the glare. Who would they find at the end of this undulating funnel? More importantly, would they have enough magic to corral whoever was siphoning power and ravaging the lines?
He extended his arms. The whale grasped one hand, Moira the other. Her grip was warm and enticing, but he couldn’t think about her now. Not in that way. Any diversion from absolute focus and none of them would make it back to the ship.
“Get ready.” He ground out the words as he sensed the passageway thinning around them.
With a final gush of violet tinged with blue, the funnel he’d summoned opened into something out of a science fiction nightmare. An elongated cavern stretched as far as he could see. It would have been pitch black if not for the glowing ley lines stretching before them, some parallel to the spongy dirt floor, others extending upward beyond the line of his vision.
A startled intake of breath from Moira suggested she’d never been here before, but he didn’t waste breath asking.
The whale grunted. “Fucking place never changes. No matter where you enter it.”
“I don’t get it,” Moira muttered. “I thought someone would be here. I checked Karin’s coordinates, but—”
“Look with your third eye.” Leif switched to his psychic view and scanned the cavern. Nothing jumped out, so he did it again, taking more time. A flicker of energy sparked but dimmed almost immediately.
“Focus about twenty feet down the third aisle over,” he instructed, switching to telepathy. Someone had to be here, cloaking themselves. Maybe it meant they couldn’t reach beyond their ward to listen to mind speech. He hoped so.
“Yes.” Moira sounded jubilant and tugged on his arm. “Let’s go.”
“Safer from here,” the whale said.
Leif agreed with him. He gathered power from Moira and the whale, pleased by how the slightly different version from Moira gave theirs a boost. Once he had enough, he powered a seeking spell and heaved it right at the suspicious spot.
A globe took shape, shattering with a high-pitched squeal that made his ears hurt. Amphitrite rose from a crouch and faced them squarely. She curled both hands around the ley line nearest her.
Leif would have fallen back a pace if he hadn’t been firmly latched to Moira and the whale. Incandescence from the lines spread from the sea queen’s hands up her torso and down her legs until her entire body pulsed and glowed.
“She’s draining our power source,” Moira shouted and jerked harder on his arm.
“At least the female among you has brains.” Amphitrite drew her lips back from her teeth in a parody of a smile. She glowed brighter by the minute.
“Why aren’t you burning to a cinder?” Moira shot back.
“I’m a goddess. I have power you can only begin to dream about.”
“If you have so much power, why’d you switch sides?” Leif growled.
“Who says I did, dear boy?”
Tinkling laughter drove what felt like hot nails into his brain, and he gritted out, “It’s obvious you plan to sabotage our efforts. Why else would you drain our magical source?”
Amphitrite squared her shoulders; sparks shot from her like miniature lightning bolts, zinging around her robed form. “You let all that alpha crap addle your mind. You’re collateral damage. Nothing more. Nothing less. The only side I’ve ever been on is my own.” She skinned her lips back from her teeth. “Best of luck getting out of here.”
The light around her grew until Leif had to shut his eyes. Even that wasn’t enough to block it out. Brilliance seared his corneas.
“She’s leaving,” Moira screamed. “We have to stop her.”
“We can’t. She’s gone,” the whale snarled as the light faded to a sickly glow from the depleted ley lines.
Leif opened eyes that felt gritty and tender. He disentangled his hands from Moira and the whale. About the only thing he’d been right about was the identity of the power thief. Beyond that, he’d miscalculated rather badly. Not only about the extent of the goddess’s power, but about her motives. Apparently, he’d deluded himself when he figured she’d be so devastated about being caught, she wouldn’t put up much of a fight.
He sucked in a tight breath. “I am most humbly sorry—” he began.
Moira made a chopping motion. “Don’t waste words on apologies. We have to repair enough of the lines for us to get out of here. I didn’t like her parting salvo. Nor do I like the looks of the lines. They’re flickering as if they’re ready to die altogether.”
The whale bent and let a hand hover over the nearest line. It pulsed weakly, and he straightened, his rough features folding into a frown.
Leif wanted to check for himself, but any unnecessary expenditure of power was a very bad idea. “What’d you find?” he asked the whale.
“There wasn’t much left when we got here,”
he grunted. “That sea bitch siphoned so much, I’m amazed she didn’t explode.”
Leif had known the whale for a long time. “You’re walking around my question.”
The whale nodded. “Because I’m working out what we have left to leverage, and my reasoning is running in circles.”
Moira cleared her throat. “We shouldn’t remain here. Not long, anyway. At least according to the lore, the borderworlds sap our ability to reason.” She knelt and focused intently on a horizontal line. “Look.”
Leif crouched next to her. “What am I looking at?”
“Follow this line as far as you can see. It’s not evenly depleted. Some spots hold more power than others.”
He narrowed his eyes and examined the line. It took two passes before he saw what she did. “You have sharp eyes. I’d never have noticed the differences.”
“They are subtle,” she agreed. “Credit my vulture. Raptors have very precise vision.”
Hope flickered deep in his gut. They needed power to get back. They also needed power to repair the lines. In their current state, the ley lines didn’t contain enough juice for the three of them to teleport back to Arkady. Draining their power repairing the lines would only exacerbate the problem.
Maybe there was another way.
They weren’t starting from bedrock, not if they could control the better parts of the lines and urge them to partially heal the other sections. It was a sound idea—one that didn’t require an output of magic from them—but could it happen fast enough?
“What are you thinking?” Moira asked.
“Two variables are in play,” he responded. “One is how fast the lines will recover. The other is how quickly this place will sap us.”
“So the lore books were correct?” Moira angled a brow into a question mark.
“Yes, but not in a straightforward manner,” the whale replied. “There’s an interplay between how strong we were to begin with—a highly individual measure—and the power inherent in each borderworld. We can survive on many of the borderworlds, but the longer we stay, the harder it is to find the will to leave…”