by Ann Gimpel
Leif nodded to himself. So the ley lines were an add-on, created by one of the first gods. “Does she still appear as a horse?” he asked.
“I’m getting there,” Aura said. “In truth, I’d forgotten about this prophecy until earlier today.”
“Maybe it hid itself from you until you needed it,” Leif countered.
“Anything is possible. Let me finish. There’s not much left. No one has laid eyes on Eiocha since the time she told her fellow gods about what I assume were the ley lines. Cernunnos loved her and tried to follow her, but she eluded him.”
“Do you suppose she’s the guardian?” Moira met Leif’s gaze from her seat at a nearby table.
He glanced at Aura. “What do you think?”
“It’s likely. Let me get to the prophecy part, which is that Eiocha will awaken and reappear when need is great. I’m a bit confused about the awaken part because it suggests she’s been in some type of trance state all these years.”
“It’s a Celtic myth,” Karin said. “Do you suppose Eiocha will respond to Gaelic?”
“Hang on,” Moira said. “My bondmate is back. Let me ask it.” Moments dripped by before she nodded, a solemn expression on her face. “Yes and no. My vulture only heard one word, and it was in an extremely archaic form of the language. It reminded me, though, that the guardian understood me when I walked along the lines talking as I pointed out the stronger spots.”
“The guardian, whether it’s Eiocha or another, wanted to keep us in the borderworld,” Leif muttered.
“That was how we interpreted things,” Moira said, “but what if we were wrong?”
“I’m not seeing how we could have been,” the whale who’d been with them said.
“Maybe the guardian knew how close we were cutting things and was trying to hold us in place to let our magical reservoirs gain more strength,” Moira suggested.
“This is great. Keep the dialogue flowing,” Viktor encouraged.
Leif listened as ideas cropped up. One thing was certain. They’d have to return to the borderworld and do their damnedest to open a channel of communication with the guardian. If Moira had guessed right, and the thing behind the lines was on their side, the journey would be uneventful. If not, the odds of tricking it into releasing them a second time would grow much more complicated.
Viktor elbowed him. “Any last thoughts, mate?”
“Other than some of us have to return to the borderworld? No.”
Viktor nodded. “We did a good night’s work, people. We’ll figure out the mechanics of the best way to approach the guardian after we’ve had a decent rest.”
Conversation rose around them, and Viktor turned to Leif. “Goes double for you on the rest front. Will you be here or in the sea?”
Leif glanced at his pod. They were on their feet and clearly waiting for him. “In the sea. We’ll be back aboard in the morning.”
“Excellent. Thanks for your help tonight.”
“I didn’t do much of anything.”
“Oh, but you did. Us standing together is symbolic to everyone.”
Leif extended a hand, and Viktor shook it. “Symbolic and I hope to hell prophetic we’ll come through our trials with at least some survivors.”
“We have to.” Viktor’s usually pleasant manner dropped away, showing the man beneath. Harsh. Somber. Determined.
Clacks and bleats rose from his restive pod, and Leif loped to them, avoiding the temptation to keep an eye on Moira. More than keep an eye. He ached to sit and talk with her, hold her, kiss her. Leif redirected himself fast. He couldn’t be in two places, and now was a time for him to retreat to the sea with his kinfolk.
8
Unseen Threats
Moira had spent the morning working alongside Tessa and Ketha rearranging provisions in the galley. Karin was trying to grow seedlings in raised beds located in a small alcove behind the galley, but at least so far none of them had germinated.
“I’m going to take another look at the garden,” Moira told the other two Shifters.
Ketha angled a glance her way from where she knelt in front of open cabinets. “Good idea. I hadn’t exactly forgotten about them, but last time I looked, things were pretty quiet.”
“Maybe a shot of magic?” Tessa raised a dark brow. Her black curls were bunched into a leather thong tied low on her neck.
“You’ve been reading my mind.” Moira pushed to her feet, stretching out muscles that had stiffened from her stint crawling around on the floor. “Geez. How long have we been in here, anyway?”
“Hours, but at least it will be easier to find things. I’m not sure what Karin had in mind when she arranged supplies from Invercargill, but her system wasn’t working for me.” Ketha placed the remaining sacks of dried food inside a drawer and began the process of closing everything up, standing once she was done.
Moira came behind her brandishing a sharpie and scrawled enough on each cupboard and drawer front to identify its contents.
“Good idea,” Tessa said. “We know where stuff is, but this way everyone else will too without opening everything.”
“It is a most excellent idea, one I should have thought of.” Ketha rolled her golden eyes. “At least this project has kept me away from my glass. I swear, that thing is more addictive than I remember.”
“Nah. That’s not it.” Moira folded her arms beneath her breasts. “You’re desperate to know more.”
Ketha screwed her face into a serious expression. “I am. Damn but I miss our library. If we had access to it, we could dig up source documents to verify Aura’s account of the beginnings of the world.”
“We could, but what would we gain?” Moira played devil’s advocate, mostly to move Ketha out of being mired in the way she’d always done things. That world had been dead for a long time and wasn’t likely to ever return.
“She’s seeking a mental comfort zone,” Tessa spoke up. “It’s been in short supply ever since we left Ushuaia.”
“Try since the Cataclysm trapped us there.” Moira did her best to rein it in, but bitterness seeped beneath her words.
“What if we do something wrong?” Ketha shoved her hands through her hair, moving the dark locks shot with red and gold behind her back. “If we approach the horse goddess in a way that’s not pleasing to her, she may ignore us. Or kill us on the spot.”
“As long as you brought it up, the whole horse thing has me damned nervous,” Tessa said. “Is Eiocha related to the Kelpies?”
“I don’t believe so,” Ketha mumbled, “but it’s a good question.”
Moira considered her interaction with the unnamed energy in the cave. “I don’t believe we can apply anything like our usual standards to the ley lines’ guardian. From what I saw, the energy source has been closeted caring for the lines for so many thousands of years, even speaking has become difficult. It seems to understand, though, so perhaps its ability to communicate will return.”
“I still wish we knew more,” Ketha muttered.
Moira rounded on her. “We marched into battle against the Cataclysm with an incomplete information set and made it work.”
“By accident. It was happenstance Vik and I chose that moment to make love, defying the prohibition against Vampires and Shifters having sex.”
“Was it truly accidental?” Tessa got to her feet. “Zoe and Aura and I kicked it around, and we decided the goddess’s hand was at play.”
“That’s lovely and lyrical”—Ketha shook her head—“but I think we got lucky, and there’s no way to sort out if I’m right or if divine intervention played into our victory that day.”
“You’re wasting mental energy,” Moira said.
“It’s how I solve problems.” Ketha sounded prickly and defensive.
Rather than answering, Moira crossed the room to the door into the small garden area with its raised beds. A quick glance lifted her spirits. “Look! We have seedlings. Finally.”
Tessa and Ketha hurried to her side, crowding into th
e small space. “I’m taking this as a good omen,” Ketha said. Nurturing magic flashed from her fingertips as she encouraged the rows of tiny, unfolding leaves to keep growing.
Moira checked the drip system and made a few adjustments. She turned to face the other two women. “We’ve had a hard go of things for a long time, but we’re reaching the endgame. Now isn’t the time to pussyfoot around. We have to play this part fast and hard. Like we’re sure of ourselves and know what we’re doing.”
“Fake it till you make it?” Ketha looked askance at her.
“Something like that.”
Tessa tipped her chin upward. “I don’t know about you two, but every single thing we’ve faced has scared the crap out of me. From avoiding Vamps in Ushuaia to all the nasty shit we’ve run into on this voyage.” She shrugged, a small motion that underscored her words. “No matter what, I keep going. I don’t have any expectations. I’m taking this day by day, or hour by hour when the going gets really tough.”
Moira stepped close and hugged her. “That was perfect. It’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
“Me too, but that doesn’t mean I like it,” Ketha muttered, adding, “We need to get something going for lunch. It’s past noon.”
Moira let go of Tessa and returned to the kitchen, closing the door on the baby lettuce and spinach plants. Noon. Where were the sea Shifters? She’d managed to make it through the entire morning without thinking about Leif. At least, not too much.
What she’d actually done was redirect herself when her thoughts segued in his direction. Tessa turned on one of the ovens. When she caught Ketha’s questioning glance, she said, “We had plenty left over from breakfast. I’m going to heat it up.”
“I’ll head to the bridge,” Ketha said. “It’s almost my shift anyway.”
“Here.” Tessa cut a square of room-temperature breakfast casserole and put it on a plate.
Ketha made a face. “Not particularly hungry, but I suppose I should eat.”
“Yes. You should. Before you get lost in your scrying mirror again.” Moira sent a pointed look Ketha’s way.
“Maybe Zoe and Aura had luck with the cards, and they’ll need an assist from my seer magic.”
Moira folded a hand around Ketha’s arm. “If they do, be sure to eat first.”
Mumbling something that sounded like, “Yes, Mom,” Ketha snatched up the plate and trudged out of the galley.
Tessa slid the remaining breakfast into the waiting oven. “Do you suppose we should make something to go with it?”
“Like what?”
“Some kind of quick bread? Whatever we don’t eat can show up again at dinner.”
Breath whistled through Moira’s teeth. “Sure. It’s a good plan. Do you need help?”
“Not really. It’s kind of a one-woman job.” Tessa narrowed her dark eyes in speculation. “We don’t talk much, but then you’ve always kept to yourself—”
“Really?” Moira’s temper surged. “You’re going to criticize me for—”
“Back off, sister.” Tessa held up a hand. “You’re touchy as a scalded cat and about as approachable as your bondmate.”
“Watch it. Do not dig yourself in deeper. What do you have against vultures?”
“Nothing.” Tessa shook her head. “We shouldn’t argue. We have enough problems without creating internal dissension.”
Moira’s quick spurt of anger guttered and died. “You’re right. We’re all jumpy. I’m sorry. Vultures aren’t warm, fuzzy birds. But all the bond animals can have sharp edges. What are you bonded to? I don’t believe I ever knew.”
“A mountain cat, like Juan and Aura.” She slapped her forehead with a palm. “Juan’s cat.”
Moira waited, but Tessa didn’t say anything else. “What about Juan’s cat?” she prodded.
“It was one of the first bond animals. It’s very old. Karin’s wolf is too. Maybe they’ll know something about Eiocha or whoever is guardian for the lines.”
“Someone mentioned querying the bond animals last night, I think.” Moira chewed her lower lip but couldn’t force the memory to center field. “Anyway, it’s a good idea. I’m as worried as the rest of you.”
The ship canted to one side before righting itself.
Tessa blew out a tight breath and widened her stance. “It’s been a while since we hit a stretch of bad water.”
“I have a feeling we’ll be dealing with a whole lot of wave action before we reach Wrangel Island.” Moira did a few quick calculations. “I’m thinking maybe nine more days.”
“At what speed?”
“Good point, sweetie. I was calculating between twelve and thirteen knots. If Vik and Juan have to slow the boat down, it could take longer.”
The deck tilted again. This time in the opposite direction. Tessa pulled a mixing bowl out of a cupboard; Moira found a wooden spoon and dropped a bag of biscuit mix next to the bowl.
“I’ll stay until we get the biscuits in the oven,” Moira said and poured the mix into the bowl to its halfway point.
Tessa added water, stirring until she liked the consistency. “What do you think?” She tilted the bowl so Moira could peek at its contents.
“Looks great. Let me get a baking sheet.”
The motion of the ship had become more pronounced. Moira plunked the cookie sheet next to Tessa and walked to the galley door, pushing it open to allow a view out the windows lining the larger dining room. Water splattered the glass, but she couldn’t tell if it was from waves or rain or both. The plan had been to skirt the Philippines to the west, but they should be past there and about even with China by now.
The gray she associated with storms filled every window without a hint of sunshine. The weather hadn’t ever grown truly warm as they’d figured it would crossing equatorial waters. She drew herself up short. Her mind was wandering, mostly because she didn’t want to have to add one more hardship to the already-daunting list facing them.
“Well?” Tessa called from the galley. “What’s it look like out there?”
Moira let go of the door and turned her hands palms up. “Like a storm, but we already knew that. If you don’t need me, I’m going to find Juan—and his cat.”
“Let everyone know lunch will be ready in about half an hour.”
“I’ll do that.” Moira’s gaze darted away. “Sorry I was prickly.”
“You don’t have to apologize. We’re all on edge, and I figure it will do nothing but grow worse as we get closer to the fissure.” She thinned her lips into a line. “Remember how darkness got its claws into Daide?”
“Of course.” Moira nodded. “What about it?”
Tessa scrunched her eyes into worried slits. “I feel it. Evil. Darkness. All around us hunting for a way in. It backed off after Antarctica, but it’s back again.”
Moira resisted the urge to pepper the other Shifter with questions. Instead, she settled on, “What type of magic runs strong in you?”
“I’m an empath, rather like Zoe.”
Moira cast her magic in a full circle, hunting for the evil Tessa felt but not finding it. “Does your cat feel the darkness too?”
Tessa nodded, and Moira turned her attention inward to her bondmate. “What do you sense?”
“Not what she does, but it doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
“You were talking with your vulture,” Tessa said.
It wasn’t a question, so Moira didn’t bother denying it. “Yes, and neither of us are tuned in to the vibrations bothering you.”
A startled look flitted across Tessa’s freckled face. Magic sparkled where she formed a ward around herself. Her nostrils flared as she settled the protective circle into place. “Everyone should do this,” she said. “It must’ve selected me because it saw me as a weak link. With me warded, it will transfer its attention to someone else.”
“None of us has enough power to maintain warding twenty-four/seven and still fight whatever awaits us in eastern Siberia.”
The scent o
f cooking biscuits sent Tessa scurrying toward the oven, mitt in hand. She drew out the pan and set it on a countertop before twisting to face Moira. “No. We don’t. Which means we’ll have to figure out a kind of early-warning system. Maybe if we frustrate this thing enough, it will give up.”
Moira opened her mouth to tell Tessa she was being ridiculous. Evil never went away. It grew cagier, tried harder. But Tessa wore such a determined look, Moira nodded and said, “I’ll let people know about lunch.”
The ship lurched, and Moira grabbed onto a countertop. Scooping a hot biscuit off the tray, she made her way out of the kitchen and tackled the stairs, clinging to the rail so the next wave wouldn’t send her ass over teakettle to the bottom.
She had faith in the ship. It was sound, and between Viktor and Juan, they possessed the skills to pilot it. Evidence of wickedness lurking in the wings was damned unsettling, though. No wonder Ketha’s glass wasn’t overly cooperative, or the Tarot cards.
The biscuit was almost too hot to eat, so she worked at it from the edges inward.
She’d finished it by the time she hit Deck Four. Having two hands helped a lot as she pulled herself up the remaining risers. She stopped at one of the large windows outside the bridge and stared out at twenty-foot swells beneath a gray sky thick with thunderclouds.
No wonder the ship was rocking and rolling. Had the men predicted this storm with their instruments, or was it spawned by the same magic that had Tessa in its gunsights?
After taking a deep, steadying breath, she walked onto the bridge. Viktor was at the helm. Juan stood near the bank of instrumentation writing in a small notebook. Aura, Ketha, Karin, and Zoe sat huddled in a tight circle off to one side. Recco and Daide stared out the windows as if they were hunting for something.
Everyone was so deep in what they were doing, no one noticed her at first. She cleared her throat, not wanting to startle anybody. “Um, lunch is ready.”
“Figured as much when Ketha showed up with leftovers from breakfast,” Viktor said. “How are those calculations coming?” he asked Juan.