by Ann Gimpel
“I’ll look forward to it.” He stood aside, and she felt his gaze on her as she climbed the stairs.
19
Declarations
Leif loped from one group to the next, making suggestions and fine-tuning how people deployed power. Their human contingent had been content to remain aboard Arkady, keeping it safe from harm. All recognized they’d be out of their depth in a battle of clashing magics.
He’d tried not to hover near Moira, but he’d kept an eye on her no matter where he was on the field. She had strength. To watch her, he’d never have guessed her bondmate had threatened desertion. His dolphin had returned from attempting to talk with the vulture more pissed off than he’d ever seen it.
“Faster!” Eiocha yelled. “Mix fire in faster. Don’t think about it. Do it until it becomes second nature.” She’d been alternating between her horse and human forms. Leif suspected she’d have stuck to the equine one were it not for the necessity to issue orders.
A whale, Juan, and Aura jumped to her command. Magic prickled Leif’s scalp, making the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The air was overly saturated with the trappings of power. They were pulling magic faster than either air or earth could absorb it. The excess sparkled in untidy clumps, some on the ground, some floating in the still air.
Yesterday’s storm had blown through. While it was still bitterly cold, so cold Leif flexed his fingers and directed a flow of magic to keep them functioning, there was no wind. Viktor had chosen well, anchoring the ship near Ossora. The deserted fishing village was tucked between two protective spits of land. Never a densely populated region, at most it had hosted a couple thousand people.
No one was left. Perhaps they’d taken one of the ancient trading routes back to the Russian mainland at the beginning of the Cataclysm. Or maybe the town was littered with corpses. No one had taken the time to check. The rocky shoreline where they’d established their training ground was a few miles outside the village proper.
Eiocha sidled to where Leif stood and motioned for him to follow her off to one side while the groups continued to lob power at targets she’d set for them. He felt her magic settle around them, so she must not want to be overheard.
He turned so he faced her and bowed. “Thank you again for helping us, Eiocha.”
A garbled snort blew past her lips. “You say it as if I had a choice, dolphin. I can move to a borderworld if things go to hell here, but it isn’t my first choice.”
“Might be hard to leave your ley lines behind, eh?”
“That and other things.” She narrowed her eyes. “My roots date to the world’s beginnings. It’s not easy to leave everything you’ve always known behind, but that wasn’t why I drew you aside.”
Leif waited, curious what Eiocha wanted. Was she disappointed in everyone’s magic and going to suggest another few days of practice?
“No easy way to ask this,” she muttered, “but what are the chances corruption has reached the animals’ world?”
Leif’s eyes widened. He hadn’t anticipated that question, or anything remotely connected with it. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots and follow her reasoning, though. “You’re concerned the vulture Shifter may have fallen prey to evil?”
Eiocha nodded. “I’d thought to ask Moira, but she appears to be holding up well under the strain, and I didn’t wish to flog her with her bondmate’s perfidy.” She creased her high forehead into thoughtful lines. “I’ve spoken privately with Juan’s mountain lion. According to its memories, there are only a handful of instances where the Shifter bond was severed. There may have been a few others, but it’s a rare enough occurrence to be notable.”
Adopting his usual, methodical approach to problems, Leif ticked points off on his fingers. “First”—he extended a forefinger—“none of the other bond animals are having problems. Second, according to Moira, her vulture has always been cantankerous.”
“Aye, I heard her well enough when she shared her suspicions about it breaking other bonds, but it’s difficult to believe. Furthermore, I’ve known that vulture for a very long time. Granted, it’s highhanded and imperious, but it never mentioned jettisoning bondmates. Furthermore, why wouldn’t the other bond animals have censured it if such were the case?”
“Perhaps they did. We’d have no way of knowing. It’s not the sort of thing our bondmates discuss with us. If it has broken bonds before, I can’t imagine it sharing that fact—with anyone.” He rolled tension from his shoulders. “Are you concerned about sabotage from within the animals’ ranks?”
“It did occur to me. The enemy we face is bad enough without a subtle disruption hammering us from inside our magic.”
“If poison was spreading within the bond animals, my dolphin would have alerted me.”
“For sea Shifters or land Shifters as well?” She folded her arms beneath her breasts.
“For everyone. My bondmate attempted a conversation with Moira’s vulture.”
“And?” Eiocha arched a silvery brow.
Leif shrugged. “I don’t have details other than it didn’t go well.”
Eiocha leaned closer as if she feared being overheard even through her warding. “Should we sever that bond afore the battle?”
“No. It’s Moira’s decision. If I had to guess, in her secret places she’s still hoping her bondmate will make an effort to become a partner, not just a taskmaster.”
“Unlikely. It’s one of the oldest bond animals and as prone to change as me, which is to say not very.” She chuckled wryly, amused by her own joke.
“But you did change,” Leif pointed out. “When we visited you in your cavern with the ley lines, you refused to leave the place you’d been for millennia. Yet, here you stand.”
“Point taken. I will keep the vulture Shifter next to me during the battle just in case I’m onto something about her bondmate—and to shore up her power if it becomes necessary.”
Eiocha waved a hand, and the magic surrounding them dissipated. “The group has done well today. Far better than I expected. While I’d love to have another few days to hone our skills, every day we tarry is a day our enemy grows stronger.” She shut her eyes for a moment, lashes brushing her cheeks. When she opened them, she looked ancient and harsh and foreboding. “We’re close enough to the fissure,” she went on, “I feel nascent evil. It pricks me from all sides like an insidious cold that refuses to retreat.”
“Have you heard from Oberon and Titania?”
She shook her head. “Nay, and it worries me, but neither have they put out a call for aid.”
“We will do what we can with the talent available. Poseidon and Amphitrite did their best to kill off everything in the sea, yet they failed. I have to believe good will rise above wickedness.”
She trained her changeable eyes on him. “Aye, dolphin Shifter, believing in our cause is a first step, but…” She tossed her head, chin jutting at a defiant angle. “We do what we must. ’Tis why I am here and not cowering in my cave letting others fight my battles. If you want the truth, Oberon shamed me, as did his consort.”
Compassion and understanding flooded him. “Regardless of the reason, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Thank you, Alpha. We should orchestrate a final round where everyone runs their magic fully open, and then we shall return to the ship.”
Leif turned to the groups, an idea forming in the back of his mind. At first, he dismissed it as indulgent and ill-advised, but the more he thought about it, the more it wouldn’t leave him be.
“I think you should,” his dolphin spoke up.
Leif swallowed surprise since his bondmate rarely forwarded an opinion on anything. “Let’s see how I feel about it after we’re done here,” he said.
“Some actions require doing, not thinking,” the dolphin observed.
Leif reached the nearest group. Zoe, Recco, and Lewis were adding fire as Eiocha had instructed, and their targets had almost been obliterated. “Great work!” Leif clapped Lewis on the
shoulder. “Last exercise. Give it everything you’ve got. Open a conduit to the ley lines and blast away. Not for long. We don’t want to squander magic. Get a feel for running full throttle, and then shut it down. When you’re finished, return to the ship.”
“Sure and I’m not feeling ready,” Zoe mumbled.
Leif gripped her hand hard. “None of us will ever feel ready, but we have to do this. The longer we wait, the stronger our enemy grows. If we take another week to hone our abilities, we may pass a tipping point where we can’t win no matter how skilled we are.”
Recco wrapped an arm around his mate, and she leaned into him. He met Leif’s gaze and nodded, silently urging him to leave them. Leif moved to the next group with the same message. The last practice round was over in the blink of an eye. Ready to teleport back to Arkady, he located Viktor and Ketha.
Before he could open his mouth to ask what happened to Moira, Ketha said, “It’s all right. This isn’t a repeat of yesterday. Moira went back with Eiocha.”
Maybe it was just as well. Leif had some thinking to do. Moira’s absence afforded him space to do it in. He shepherded Viktor and Ketha back to the ship. “Good choice of a port,” he told Viktor.
“Thanks. This little part of the Bering Sea has always been the banana belt of the Arctic.”
Ketha snorted. “Banana belt? It can’t be more than ten degrees.”
“Yes, darling, but there’s no wind. Imagine how much worse it would feel with windchill added in.” Laughing, he tucked a hand beneath her arm and led her inside the warmth of the ship.
Leif trailed after them. Everyone would gather for a meal, but tonight would be a time for mates to spend what might be their last night together, for friends to say whatever had been left unsaid. They’d travel through the night. By morning, they’d be at Pevek and launch the Zodiacs, heading for the faeries’ passageway.
By this time tomorrow night, who knew how many of them would remain?
Lewis rolled from his teleport spell and walked to Leif. “We’d planned to spend a bit of time in the sea. Will you join us?”
“Let’s eat with the land Shifters, and then we’ll retire to the sea for a while.”
“I’ll let the pod know.” Lewis nodded briskly.
“We won’t remain with the others for very long, but it’s important to break bread together.” Leif understood why his pod wanted to take to their sea forms. They’d be doing much same thing as the land Shifters: saying what might be final goodbyes.
“I get the part about making an appearance at dinner. See you inside.” Lewis slipped through the nearest door into the ship.
Stars were out by the time he returned to Arkady. His pod was still swimming, recalling happier times, but he’d come to a decision about the problem he’d tackled earlier. No one knew what tomorrow would hold. Because he owed it to them, he’d told his pod what he planned, and they’d given him their heartfelt support.
Water pooled around him on the chilly deck bathed in moonlight. He hurried inside and ducked into the first empty cabin he found, using its dusty towels to dry off. He snatched an equally dusty robe off a hook and wrapped it around himself. Maybe what he planned was ridiculous. He’d probably wake Moira, but he’d take his chances.
He was going to tell her how he felt again, and that he longed for a future with her. What happened next would be up to her. It had surprised him his pod hadn’t pitched twenty-seven kinds of fits. She wasn’t a sea Shifter. In truth, she might not be a Shifter at all much longer, but they hadn’t cared. Leif had told them he loved her, and they’d wished him well.
He pushed his dripping hair over his shoulders. The salt smell of the sea rose around him, tangy and welcome. So he wouldn’t create puddles in her cabin, he directed a small stream of magic to finish drying himself. Leif hesitated, standing in the empty cabin. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but damn it, he had to try. Worst thing that would happen is she’d send him away. Waiting wasn’t making things easier, so he pushed resolutely into the corridor and strode to her cabin. Not bothering to send magic ahead, he tapped on her door.
Footsteps rustled from within, and she pulled the door open a few inches. Her long, thick hair hung around her in messy curls. Her dark eyes held a haggard expression, and her face was blotchy from tears. She wore a robe twin to his, except hers was light blue.
“Did something happen?” she asked, swallowing visibly. “I know I look like shit, but I’m not in that bad a shape. Do you need me for something? I can be dressed in a flash.”
“May I come in?”
She drew her brows into a thin line. “Um, sure. I guess so.” Moira pushed the door open wide enough to admit him and backed into her cabin. The duvet was crumpled into a heap at the bottom of her bunk, and the desk held sheets of paper covered in finely-written script.
“What were you working on?” he asked.
She shrugged. “It’s how I solve problems. I write things out over and over, refining them with each pass. I used to use a computer program to do it. Mathcad was way faster than my hand calculations.” She plopped into the desk chair and waved an arm at the bunk she didn’t ever sleep in. “Have a seat, unless you weren’t planning to stay long. In that case, tell me why you’re here.”
Leif tightened the robe’s belt and perched on the edge of the bunk. “How’s the problem solving coming along?”
“Not well.” She screwed her face into a bitter expression. “Everyone will know soon enough. My vulture plans to sever our bond, but it’s waiting until after the battle.” A tear leaked from one eye, and she brushed it aside. “I suppose it’s decent of it to stick by me for now, but I suspect one of the animals in the borderworld threatened sanctions if it abandoned me on the verge of the most important battle in Earth’s history.”
Compassion filled him. “I’m so sorry.”
Another tear followed the first. “Don’t.” Her voice held anguish. “I can’t talk about it. Hell, I can’t even think about it. I have to keep moving forward.”
“Is that what were you writing about?”
“I was trying to sort out what I’d have left for magic.” She held up a sheet covered with calculus equations. “Turns out I won’t be in quite as bad a place as I’d feared.” One corner of her mouth turned down. “I will miss flying. I’d become quite fond of it. The one thing I couldn’t get a handle on was what impact this would have on my lifespan.”
“Maybe another would bond with you.” Leif tried for a supportive tone.
“Even if another vulture showed up, I’d never take a chance on one. A raven maybe. Or an eagle, like Rowana’s… No more vultures.”
“I’m not feeling too kindly disposed toward them myself about now,” he growled.
She swiped at her damp cheeks. “Damn it. I can’t stop crying. I don’t get it. This is a relief—or it should be. If I hadn’t wanted to force a choice, I’d never have stood up to my bondmate.”
Leif fought fury at the vulture. If it showed up once it was no longer linked to Moira, he’d throttle the damned thing for causing her pain. “Tears serve a purpose. They’re cleansing and will help clear your head for tomorrow.” He hesitated, not sure how to approach the reason he was in her cabin.
Perhaps she’d been inside his head because she scooted her chair closer to where he sat and said, “You didn’t stop by here to console me about my bondmate. Are there new developments? Something I need to know before we reach the gateway?”
It was as good an entry as he was likely to get. “Nothing new.” He rested a hand on her knee. “I love you, Moira. I want you to become my mate. I’d planned to wait to formalize my request until after the battle, but tonight may be the only time we have together.” Breath hitched in his throat, and he offered up a prayer she felt the same, that she wouldn’t turn him away.
More tears rolled down her cheeks, and she shook her head until hair fell around her face. “You’re only saying that because you fear many of us won’t survive the battle. I won’t b
e a Shifter anymore afterward. I’m not the right mate for you. Besides, your pod would never support such a pairing.”
“Oh yes, they would. They encouraged me to speak with you.”
Her eyes widened, kindling with hope, but then she drew back. “The wisest course would be to wait, see if we survive tomorrow and whatever comes after.”
He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her into his lap, so she lay across him. “If one of us dies, wouldn’t you want to have spent tonight in my arms loving me? We may not get any other chances.”
A host of conflicting emotions crossed her expressive features. He smoothed a thumb across her lips, loving the feel of her skin beneath his touch, silky and smooth. She didn’t push him away. Desire ignited. It had been there all along, but he’d kept it under wraps.
Taking a chance, he lowered his head and closed his mouth over hers. After an initial hesitation, she kissed him back, opening her mouth to his tongue. He explored the inside of her mouth, while she sparred with him, exchanging sucking his tongue for biting his lips with little sharp kisses.
She threaded her arms around him, gripping his back with her fingers. He rolled them onto the bunk so they lay on their sides, mouths still pressed together and bodies straining against one another. Her nipples turned into hard peaks where they pressed against his chest, and he thrust his hips, craving the feel of her belly against his erect cock. She angled a leg across him and ground her nub against his thigh. Heat from her seared him, and he slid a hand between her legs.
She made a hungry, mewling noise and writhed against him. Desire spilled from her, feeding his own hunger.
Leif forced his mouth from hers. He was breathing fast, and every cell in his body wanted to rip her clothing aside and plumb her as quick and hard as he could, but that wasn’t the way he wanted her their first time.