At that moment, I heard Angel scream. Startled, I glanced to the side to see her near me, caught by vines that were thrusting their way out of a snowbank—they were tendrils of glistening ice that seemed to be as flexible as plants. Viktor raced out from behind a large cedar and caught hold of her arm, pulling her out of the clasp of the vines.
The frog-creature’s drool was eating through my jacket now, but I finally managed to twist around and grab my dagger with my left hand. I brought my blade down across the length of his oily-pink tongue, slicing it in half. The creature fell back, shrieking, drool frothing from the stump of his tongue and boiling out of his mouth.
I stumbled to the side as Viktor pulled out a throwing dagger and launched it toward the creature’s head. The frog-creature screamed again as the blade pierced his skull, but instead of falling, he just limped away, vanishing through the undergrowth, still sporting Victor’s dagger like some kind of crazy hat.
Angel crouched down, her hands on the ground, breathing heavily. “What the hell just happened?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I have no clue what that thing was, or what those vines were. Viktor, do you think it was Ante-Fae?”
He shook his head. “No. But, whatever it was, we need to get the hell out of here. This woodland is full of deadly creatures and I don’t feel like encountering any more of them.” He glanced around, shivering as the snow continued to fall silently around us. “Where are we? Where’s the path?”
I realized then I had no clue how we’d gotten to this part of the forest. “The last thing I remember was watching Angel head toward the trail into the thicket. Then she vanished, and you vanished and then I was facing that creature and… What do you remember?” I asked Angel.
Angel frowned. “Someone called my name—that’s why I headed into the trees. Yes, I remember now, somebody was calling me.” She glanced around. “I have no idea who it was. But I couldn’t ignore the voice.” Shivering, she looked around. “Viktor’s right. We need to get out of here. There’s danger everywhere out here. It feels like one giant trap.”
“Where’s the trail?” Viktor said, looking around. Then, pointing to a huckleberry bush, he added, “There. I remember passing that bush.” He strode over to the bush and pushed behind it. “I was right. Here’s the trail. Hurry up!”
Angel and I hustled over to him. He was right, the path was right there, in plain sight now. I wondered why I hadn’t been able to see it before, but regardless of the reason, I was relieved to see it now. We hustled our asses along it, and in a few moments, we were back in Angus’s yard.
“Come on, let’s get the hell inside,” I said, running toward the door. With Viktor and Angel behind me, we raced up the steps, bursting through the front door, to safety.
HERNE AND ANGUS were sitting by the fireplace. Yutani was poring over his computer. Raj was asleep by the fire, and Raven was nowhere to be seen. Talia was standing at the sliding glass doors, staring out into the snowstorm. She turned as we skidded into the house, panting.
“What’s wrong?” Herne asked, slowly standing.
“Angus, I don’t know just who your neighbors are, but trust me, they’re not the friendly type. Whatever the hell’s living out in that patch of trees is dangerous.”
I pulled off my boots, setting them beneath the bench near the front door, then shrugged off my jacket. I examined the sleeve where the frog-creature had drooled on me. The acidic liquid had burned clean through the leather, stopping only as it reached the lining. Any more and it would have eaten into my arm. I carried it over to show Herne and Angus.
“I got in a fight with a human frog,” I said, handing my jacket to them, pointing out the hole on the sleeve. “My new leather jacket isn’t much protection against frog acid, apparently.”
“You said a frog-creature?” Angus asked, a grave expression on his face.
I nodded. “Yeah, and something that looked like ice tendrils tried to grab hold of Angel and pull her into a snowbank. It also lured her into the forest. Viktor and I didn’t hear anything, but she did.”
“I heard someone calling my name,” Angel said.
“I was wondering if the frog-creature was one of the Ante-Fae,” I added.
“No, it’s not Ante-Fae, but I know what they are. I’ve seen them before,” Raven said, emerging from the kitchen. “They’re known as grigits.” She pronounced the second “g” hard, rhyming the word with bigot. “They’re a form of malevolent nature sprite.”
“You mean they’re sub-Fae?” I asked.
“No, these aren’t considered sub-Fae,” she said, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “There’s a huge classification of nature-spirits that don’t belong to the Fae world. They have their own realm, and as a collective whole they’re known as the padurmonstris.”
“Padurmonstris? I’ve never heard of them,” I said, frowning.
“The Ante-Fae tend to have the most interaction with them, because they seldom emerge when humans—or Fae—are around. They fear the Ante-Fae, and so they try to make nice with us,” she added, a faint grin on her face. “The snow tendrils are probably from a schnee-hexe. A snow witch. In their natural form, they’re made up of snow, but they can take on an illusion of an old woman dressed in white and silver. Schnee-hexes can get inside of an empath’s head, especially one who hasn’t built up strong shields. Angel, don’t you know how to ward yourself?”
Angel shook her head, blushing. “Nobody ever taught me.”
Raven turned to Herne. “She’s part of your team. I would think you’d teach her some basic protection.”
Herne reddened and ducked his head. “You’re right. I’ve been remiss, and for that I apologize, Angel. I can’t expect to bring you along on these trips without assigning you a teacher who can help you learn how to protect yourself.”
“Padurmonstris? I think I’ve actually encountered a few in the past, but I always assumed they were just part of the sub-Fae.” I paused, then asked, “Would that thing—the grigit—would he have killed me?”
“He might have, but whether he killed you now or later, he would have devoured you. They sometimes eat their meals alive, a much more unpleasant option.” Raven sounded cheery enough, like she was talking about a new dress or pair of shoes. “They often respond to bargains—the padurmonstris in general, that is. Like crows and ravens, they love bright, shiny things. Sometimes you can make a deal with them if you can’t see any other way out. And not all of them look like frogs—those are only the grigits. If the padurmonstris inhabit the woods over here, we’ll really have to be cautious.”
“Do they understand English?” I asked.
“They can understand just about any language, if they choose to. Therein lies the problem. If they don’t want to listen, they’ll pretend not to understand what you’re saying. If that happens, run like hell if you can because chances are, they’re hungry and looking for a meal.” Raven sat down on the rug next to Raj, lightly stroking his back.
Angus let out a slow breath. “The lass is right. These woods are filled with strange creatures and beings. You have to be careful treading the backwoods.”
“Lass?” Raven asked, giving him a long look.
“You may be Ante-Fae, but you’re still a lass. I’m far older than you.” Angus flashed her a bright smile, and Raven laughed.
“You’ve got me there.”
“So what do we do about them? I wounded the…grigit. But what about the schnee-hex that was targeting Angel? Shouldn’t we form a party and hunt them down?” It seemed like a bad idea to leave them out in the forest, to attempt to trap someone else.
But Angus shook his head, and Herne followed suit.
“No, those of us who live out here have learned where to go and where not to,” Angus said. “I would have warned you if I knew you were actually going into the woods, so I take responsibility. The trees that form the barrier between my neighbor’s house and mine are home for the—as Raven said—padurmonstris. We leave them alone and
they don’t sneak out of the woods to kill us in our beds. Although now, having wounded one, that may upset the balance.”
I felt an odd mix of guilt and anger. What did he expect me to do? Let it eat my face off? And yet I knew that Angus wasn’t blaming me.
“So we just let them go?”
“Aye, you let them go and leave them be, and it will smooth out.” Angus must have caught my expression of disbelief because he gave a little shrug and grinned. “We can’t be killing off every creature that threatens us. If we intrude on their territory, we have to expect they will push back. You got away, you’re unharmed, and that’s as good as we can hope for with one of these unexpected encounters.”
Feeling grumpy, I joined Raven by the fire, settling on the rug. I glanced up at Angel, and she gave me a what can we do about it look as she pulled out a chair next to Talia. Viktor, on the other hand, glanced at the pile of wood next to the hearth.
“Your wood’s getting low. I’ll be happy to bring in an armful if you’d like.” He found a pair of gloves in his pack and slid them on.
“Thank you. I’d appreciate it. I’ll go with you and we can bring back a load and stack it on the porch.” Angus turned to the rest of us. “Make yourself at home for now. Fiona will be home in a few hours, so I’ll start dinner when I’m done with the wood.”
As Viktor and Angus trooped out the door, I turned to Herne.
“Did you know about the padurmonstris?” I asked.
“You mean that they’re over here in the woods? I knew they congregated in wild places, and that the peninsula has plenty of room for them to spread out. But did I know that Angus had them near his house? No.” Herne paused, then added, “One thing to remember. Over here, we’re out of familiar territory. Even the gods are cautious in areas like this. The creatures of the forest can be terrifying and powerful, and we don’t take them lightly. Angus should have warned us, but perhaps he thought we already knew. At least no one got hurt, and now we know to keep our eyes open.”
“Well, my new leather jacket got hurt,” I muttered, staring at the penny-sized hole the grigit had burned into it.
“The agency will reimburse you. Put in an expense voucher when we get back and buy a new jacket,” Herne said, snorting.
I glanced at Raven. She was stretched out on the rug next to Raj, her head on his belly. They were both asleep. Wishing I could fall asleep that easily, I crossed to where Herne was sitting on the sofa. I sat down beside him as Talia joined us, a worried look on her face.
“The fact that the little monsters—the padurmonstris—come so close to habitations is worrisome, though. I’m wondering how Rafé will fare out in the forest. I know that he volunteered for this mission, but with all that’s happened today alone, I have to say that I’m concerned,” she said. “Maybe Angus’s problem is not our fight?”
“I promised Angus we’d help, and we can’t let Rafé just go off on his own. Cernunnos and Morgana were specific that we’re to do whatever we can to infiltrate the Tuathan Brotherhood and shut it down.” Herne shrugged. “They’re in charge. We accept what orders they give us.”
Talia was about to add something when the door opened and Angus and Viktor returned, carrying armfuls of wood for the fire. They stacked them in the woodbin next to the woodstove.
“It’s blowing up a gale out there,” Angus said. “I told you, the storms don’t feel natural.”
“And you can’t remember anything abnormal happening around the time they started?”
“No, not really,” he said. “I’ll start dinner. Would anyone like to give me a hand?”
Angel jumped up. “I will. I love to cook.”
“If she cooks, you’ll never want her to leave,” I warned the burly Scotsman.
He laughed. “I’ve heard from Herne about her cooking, and I welcome the help.”
As they entered the kitchen, I turned to Talia. Herne was at the table, glancing over Yutani’s shoulder, as Viktor warmed his hands by the fire. Raven and Raj were still snoring lightly.
“Tell me more about this premonition of yours,” I said, keeping my voice low. Herne had already made his feelings clear, but at this point, I felt that we should pay attention to every omen and sign we encountered. Starting with the feel of the storm, then the car going off the ferry, and now, the grigit in the woods, I was thoroughly spooked.
Talia seemed to feel the same, because she glanced at Herne, then nodded for me to follow her over to the sliding doors that overlooked the backyard and the sound. We stood there for a moment before she softly began to talk.
“I honestly don’t know how to explain this, but I’ll try. When I lost my powers, I still retained some of my natural instincts. One of those instincts is that I can sense when there are other predators in the area. And I’m sensing that in a big way, right now. Not the grigit—though that was disconcerting,” Talia said, smoothing silver strands away from her face, “but something bigger. Something ancient. I’m surprised Herne doesn’t feel it, too, given he’s a god, but I’m chalking that up to the worry over Rafé, because trust me, child, he’s a bundle of nerves about the subject right now.”
“He seems to feel Rafé’s up to the job,” I said.
“He’s good at wearing a mask when he doesn’t want to alarm others, Ember. That’s one thing you need to learn before your relationship goes any further. Herne never wants to worry anybody he cares for, and right now, he’s concerned about worrying Angel and you…and Raven, given Rafé’s her blood-oath brother.” Talia paused for a moment.
“Testosterone strikes again,” I said.
“It’s more than a male–female thing. Herne’s a fixer. He likes to fix things, and when he can’t, he gets frustrated. And he doesn’t want to admit it when he needs help or when things feel out of control. So rather than admit that we’re running blind on this—that we have no idea what Rafé’s getting himself into—he’ll pretend everything’s hunky-dory.” She sighed. “I’ve known Herne for longer than I’ve known anybody else except my family. I can recognize the signs.”
“Wonderful. So he’d rather minimize the danger than admit that we’re in over our heads.”
“You can’t blame him altogether. Cernunnos and Morgana expect him to take care of this, and disappointing your parents—especially when they’re gods? Not an easy thing.”
“Right.” I rubbed my head. “So what do we do?”
“There’s not much we can do, I suppose. We do have a job. Herne has—the Wild Hunt has—our orders. I suppose my best advice is regardless of what Herne says, don’t allow yourself to get overconfident. Don’t assume we’ve got a leg up on this, because we don’t. Keep your eyes and ears open at all times. Watch what you say to others—including Angus. I will tell you this much, and I know it as well as I know my own name, that whatever he’s worried about, he’s had a hand in creating. He’s responsible for this, even though he claims to have no knowledge of what’s going on. I know it, Ember.”
At that moment, a crash outside made us all jump as the power flickered. But the lights held, and Angus barreled out of the kitchen and pushed open the sliding glass doors. Talia and I followed him onto the patio. As he flipped on the outside light, we saw that one of the smaller fir trees had toppled over, barely missing the corner of the house.
Angus groaned. “Great. Well, if that’s the least of the damage, we’ll be lucky. I’m going to prepare the generator, just in case we lose power. Why don’t you and Ember head back inside,” he added, seeing the two of us standing there, gawking at the downed tree. “I’ll just run around out front and go in through the garage that way.”
As he vanished, Talia and I returned to the living room and shut the slider. Herne was standing there, a concerned look on his face as we entered the room. Angel was finishing up dinner—a macaroni and cheese casserole, garlic bread, and salad.
“What was it?” Herne asked.
“A tree fell.” I sniffed the aroma of the food that was wafting out of the kitche
n. “Herne, did Angus tell you anything more about the situation with Fiona?”
He shook his head. “No. I think we’ll have to wait to talk to her. I wonder, though…” He paused.
I knew that look. It meant that he had thought of some possibility. “What?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” He gave me a kiss.
“Are you sure?” I tried to dig a little deeper, but he shook his head. Finally, realizing I wasn’t going to get anywhere, I wandered into the kitchen and, together with Yutani, set the table. Angus came in as we set the food out and, after washing his hands, he joined us.
“Thanks, Angel. I appreciate you taking over for me like that.” He shivered. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there, and I speak from experience. But the generator is ready in case the power goes out, and we have wood for the stove. We’ll be fine. Fiona and I don’t have that many spare bedrooms, so I suggest the women take the two guest rooms, and the men can bunk out here, if that’s fine with you. We have a queen bed in each spare room. I put your luggage in there.”
As I dished up the mac ‘n cheese, which had a crispy golden topping on it, and accepted a piece of garlic bread, I wondered how many storms the house had weathered.
“How long have you lived here on the peninsula?” I asked.
“About forty years. We originally bought the land and had the house custom built. We started out in Maine, and one of our sons still lives there. Gregory owns a magic shop. Our son Thomas was killed on a fishing boat about ten years before we moved out here. He went down in a nasty storm. And our daughter, Colleen—our oldest—moved back to Scotland. She teaches at a school for the magic-born, and has a brood of her own.”
“Herne says you almost shot him when you met,” Angel said.
Angus laughed, turning red. “Yes, indeed. I saw the most gorgeous stag in the forest, and I would not have tried to bring him down, save for Fiona and the little ones were hungry and it had been a harsh winter. Herne stayed my hand—and he helped us out. After that, we kept in touch.” He handed Yutani the salad, and Yutani served himself then handed it on.
The Silver Mist: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 6 Page 6