by Ann Gimpel
“Perfect,” Dewi crowed.
Fionn gazed about them. “Which way is Aislinn?” he asked Rune.
“In line with Dewi’s nose.” The wolf started to sit and then apparently thought better of it. “We are closer to Mistress, but not as near as I thought we’d be.”
“Why is that?” Fionn asked. “I doona understand.”
“You will,” Dewi trumpeted in mind speech.
Fionn put his hands over his ears and then realized it was pointless since the sound came from inside his head. The dragon was up to something. He recognized it in the tone of her voice and the set of her head on her long, sinuous neck. He blew out an annoyed breath. “Ye’ve detoured to free Nidhogg. Damn it!” He pounded the side of Dewi’s neck with his fist; her scales stabbed him.
“We are much nearer Aislinn.” Dewi sounded indignant. “We have closed the distance by at least half. We need my consort. He is a magician.”
“Dewi.” Fionn chose his words with care. “For all ye know, he is weakened beyond measure by his years of imprisonment.”
She lapsed into Gaelic.
“Aye,” Fionn replied. “Now ye mention it, I sense his energy, too. All it means is he yet lives.” He shut his mouth before the rest of what he wanted to say leaked out. It wouldn’t do any good to argue with Dewi. She’d convinced herself that her course of action was the soul of altruism. For him to point out she was being selfish and putting them all at grave risk wouldn’t buy anything but ill will.
He gauged the distance to the ground. It was a long jump for Rune. “We are getting down,” he told the wolf. “If ye wait for a moment—”
Rune gathered his haunches under him and launched himself off Dewi’s back. He landed solidly and loped to a nearby tree. Fionn climbed down, not wanting to waste magic if he didn’t have to.
“Wait for me here,” Dewi instructed.
“I don’t care what you choose to do.” The wolf looked pointedly at Fionn. “I am going after my bond mate.”
“It is best if we do not split up.” Dewi, obviously anxious to depart, furled her wings.
“You are the one who is leaving,” Rune noted scornfully.
Bella quorked her agreement, but softly.
“Enough.” Fionn squared his shoulders. “Rune is right. We three will go after Aislinn.”
“Understood. Nidhogg and I will find you.” Red leathery wings beat the air, and the dragon disappeared in a cloud of smoke and magic.
“Just as well,” Rune muttered. He nudged Fionn with his snout. “This is why I do not trust her. Follow me.”
“Mind speech,” Fionn reminded him.
Bella muttered incomprehensible Gaelic.
“I suppose ye have an opinion about Dewi, too.” Fionn glanced at the raven, but she didn’t answer. He took off after Rune.
He’d been following the wolf for about half an hour through country so open, it made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The countryside was baked, cracked earth. No so much as an insect’s life energy pinged back against his magic.
“Rune. Wait for me.”
The wolf slowed from a lope to a walk, but didn’t stop.
Fionn caught up. “I doona like this. No cover. Tell me which way, and I’ll jump us in small steps. Mayhap we’ll find a place we aren’t as exposed.”
“Will it be as fast?” Rune’s tongue lolled.
“Faster.” Fionn remembered his last jump out of the cave and hoped he’d told the truth. No time like the present to find out.
“I thought you said it wasn’t safe because you can’t see where we’ll come out.”
Fionn gritted his teeth. He wanted to growl his frustration to the skies. “This isna safe, either. We could be beset from any side.”
“I would smell them long before they got to us.”
“Would the two of you stop arguing and do something?” Bella snapped.
“Ye are correct. This is taking far too long.” Fionn pulled magic and visualized them coming out a mile ahead along the same trajectory Rune had set.
The short jumps were harder in some ways. They took just as much magic and far more concentration to focus the spell. Fionn stepped out of a portal, noting with satisfaction that another dead forest rose around him. He turned to help the wolf out, but Rune sprang past him, raced to the base of a tree, and lunged at something. Bella left his shoulder and flew into the trees.
Fionn peered ahead through narrowed eyes. The animals sensed something. Why didn’t he? It must be the portal. His magic was tangled up in it. Normally, that wouldn’t have mattered, but on this world, it did. He closed his working.
Danger hit him between the eyes. Adrenaline surged. Fionn grasped at it like a drowning man. He was tired, and he’d take any edge he could get, because something ominous lay hidden in the woods, waiting for them. He raised his hands and lobbed magic at the trees, taking care to avoid Rune. He couldn’t see Bella, but the raven could take care of herself.
The dark gods know I’m coming. They’ll do anything to keep me away from Aislinn. Fionn stalked forward, his mouth twisted into a grimace. Power flowed from his hands. He’d kill anything that stood between him and his love. Anything.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Aislinn paced from one side of her room to the other. She supposed D’Chel could have tossed her in a dirt-floored dungeon complete with rats. Instead, she was locked inside a relatively sumptuous, windowless chamber. Tapestries adorned two walls. For some reason, they were hard to look at for very long. Thickly tufted Persian rugs covered most of the stone floor. A tempting bed decorated with a multi-colored blanket sat against one wall. A chamber pot was in a corner. The only other furniture in the room was a table with two chairs. A pitcher of water and a plate of rich-looking biscuits were on the table. Dazed from her capture, she’d actually picked a biscuit up and lifted it to her mouth before she remembered the dragon’s exhortations not to eat or drink anything.
“Could be a problem if I’m here very long,” she muttered, staring at the biscuits.
She marshaled her magic and tried to jump herself out of her prison—again. It bounced back like a slap in the face. She patted the walls. Her magic seemed intact, so they had to be shielded in some way. She rifled through her travel pack and took a drink from one of her water bottles. D’Chel had been so preoccupied with something, he’d dumped her in the room and taken off without as much as a word. In fact, he hadn’t spoken to her since their exchange in the cave. The magic he’d called to transport them hadn’t taken very long, but since she didn’t understand the dark god’s magic, she had no idea how far she was from where she’d left Fionn and Rune.
Aislinn sat on the floor, leaning against a wall. She needed energy, so she munched on nuts and raisins while her mind raced. I have to get out of here.
Yes, but how?
She closed a hand over her belly. Aislinn hadn’t allowed herself to think about her baby. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t a good idea to think about it now, but the door in her mind was already wide open. A rush of love so intense that it brought tears to her eyes undid her. It wasn’t just her anymore. She was responsible for her son’s life as well. The hand over her stomach curled into a fist. She squeezed so hard, her nails cut into her palm. If Fionn would have told me, maybe I’d have had the good sense to stay behind.
“Oh, stop.” She spoke aloud to steady herself. “No point in blaming him. It’s my body. I could have figured out I was pregnant.” Aislinn blew out a breath, and then another. Pregnancy had never occurred to her. She’d had the occasional bout of unprotected sex before and she’d never conceived. Why now?
Her eyes pinched into narrow grooves as she answered her own question. Though she saw him as human, Fionn was a god. Among other things, that probably meant he could control things like which of his sperm created new life. Aislinn bit her lip. He might have consulted me.
Well, he didn’t. I need to pull my head out of my ass and find a way out of here. If I want to ye
ll at him for taking one more thing for granted, I have to free myself.
She shook her head, feeling disgusted and taken advantage of. Between Fionn and the dragon, she was just about done trusting anyone. She scanned the tapestries, her gaze drawn to them almost against her will. They weren’t as difficult to focus on from a distance. If she tilted her head and aimed a thin beam of Seer magic, runic writing scrolled across them.
Aislinn scrambled to her feet and walked closer. Something about the tapestries gave her a headache. She examined the script. It was an obscure language, one she’d never seen before. The pounding in her head intensified as she got closer, which suggested the runes were spells.
She snapped her fingers. “That’s it,” she murmured. “I’ll bet that’s why my magic won’t work in here.” She’d just dragged a chair over, intent on pulling the thick, woven fabric from the walls, when she heard movement outside. Rather than standing on the chair, she sat on it and folded her hands in her lap.
The door slammed against its stops. Perrikus and D’Chel sauntered into the room. Fear twisted her gut into a tight knot. The door stood open behind the dark gods, and she gauged her chances of making a run for it. Not very good. She’d have to kill both of them, not an easy task. Impossible if she listened to the Celts or the dragon.
I’ll be damned if I let those bastards turn me into a mindless lackey. A plucky part of her raced to the fore, but Aislinn stomped on it. It’s two against me. I need to look cooperative. Throw them off guard. Once they leave, I can—She warded her thoughts.
“Just as delectable a morsel as you were the last time we met.” Perrikus strode to her and ran his hands through her hair. His auburn locks flowed around him. Green eyes gleamed like exotic gemstones. He had an unusual, musky scent that reminded her of incense. He glanced over a shoulder at D’Chel. “I still think we should share this one.”
The other god narrowed his coppery eyes and barked something in a language Aislinn didn’t understand.
Perrikus laughed, lush lips framing perfect teeth. “Mayhap she will be a spot more cooperative with one of us to corral her magic while the other enjoys her.”
Aislinn jumped sideways out of her chair. She extended her ward so it covered her from head to toe. What were they expecting? That she’d just sit back and let them pass her between them like a trussed goose?
D’Chel rolled his eyes. “Oh, stand down. We’re not planning to rape you on the spot.” He licked his lips. “Not that we wouldn’t like to, but we have other priorities just now. Like the trap we set for that pesky dragon.”
“Yes,” Perrikus broke in. “If we wait a bit, I’m certain that Celtic god who’s besotted with you will show up as well. It will be a clean sweep. Then we can get back to the business at hand.”
Aislinn forced herself to face them. She quirked a brow. “And what might that be?”
“Ensuring our dominion of Earth is complete. It’s almost the only living world left. The rest of them look much like this one.” Perrikus eyed her. “You’re intelligent for a human. I’m surprised you didn’t figure that out.”
Maybe if I can keep them talking… “The Lemurians painted you as the enemy. They duped the few of us who were left into believing we fought to oust you.”
“We’re still not entirely convinced—” D’Chel began.
Perrikus silenced him with a glance, but Aislinn understood well enough. “You’re wise not to trust them,” she purred. “They want Earth for themselves. You were merely a convenience to shore up their flagging power.”
“How would you know that?” Perrikus asked.
She shrugged and wove a subtle believe me spell into her words. “Simple enough. There is a gateway to Taltos beneath the house I stayed in. I did a lot of eavesdropping.”
D’Chel’s handsome features twisted into a grimace. “How do we know you’re not lying to us? Your mind is closed to me.”
Aislinn smiled. “You don’t. Here.” She chinked her ward enough to allow him to find truth in her next words. “I killed my Lemurian mage lord; my wolf killed two others. I hold no allegiance to the Old Ones.” She hesitated for emphasis. “I don’t like being lied to—or used.”
“We’ll have to keep that in mind.” Perrikus closed on her as if her ward wasn’t there. She felt his magic weave itself into the fabric of her own, just before he tangled his hands in her hair.
Aislinn wondered if her mind was safe from intrusion, since her body certainly wasn’t. She readied herself to pull magic. Anything to keep his hands off her. Fear set her nerves thrumming, and her heartbeat thudded loud against her ears.
“We don’t have time for this,” D’Chel snapped.
Perrikus moved from her hair to her breasts. The same sexual heat she’d felt with D’Chel rioted through her. He tweaked her nipples through the material of her top. Aislinn sank into a morass of lust. She wanted to chuck her clothes and beg both of them to take her. She could suck one while—
“Nooooo,” she cried and whirled away from Perrikus. “No! Don’t do this to me.” She reached for her magic, intent on dishing out as much damage as she could. Something like an electric charge pounded into her. She flew through the air, hit the wall, and slithered to the floor, dazed.
Perrikus turned to face D’Chel. “Why in the nine hells—”
“Because the bitch was determined to kill you. You were so lost in rut, you weren’t paying attention.” D’Chel’s gaze dropped to the erection protruding from Perrikus’s robes.
Aislinn stared, too. The dark god’s cock was huge and perfect; his bronze skin contrasted with the deep green of his silk robe.
“Hmph. She seems docile enough now. Mayhap betwixt the two of us—”
“Later.” D’Chel’s voice held a bitten-off tone. “Once we are certain we shan’t be disturbed, we can hobble her magic and take our time.” His hand dropped to his crotch.
Aislinn remembered D’Chel stroking himself to a climax; she wanted to see him do it again. She bit her tongue hard enough to hurt so she wouldn’t cry out and tell him she had to see his cock. A perverse part of her wanted to see both gods naked, just as they’d been the night they’d crawled out of the earth in the Bolivian Andes. Such beauty should never be under wraps.
She shook her head, feeling sick and dizzy. The stink of their magic hung heavy in the room. They’d ensorcelled her to make her want them. I’ve got to find a way to shield myself.
“Come.” D’Chel crooked a finger at Perrikus. “It is enough she realizes she is at our mercy.”
“How could she think otherwise?” Perrikus snorted. “We never even bothered to shut the door. She understands escape is impossible.” The dark gods lapsed into the language she didn’t understand, went out the door, and slammed it behind them.
Aislinn’s head ached. Her crotch was on fire. She sucked in a jagged breath and sent Healing magic inward. Thank God nothing was broken and her baby was all right. She got to her feet and took a few tentative steps. Nothing was twisted, either, except her foot from before she’d been captured. Her hand strayed between her legs, but she snatched it back. Maybe they had some way of spying on her. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing how hot they made her.
As a diversion, she focused Healing magic on her injured foot and her throbbing head. She ate a little more and got herself some water before tackling the tapestries. They were attached to the walls by hooks; although, even standing on a chair, she couldn’t reach them. She tugged at the fabric as hard as she could, but it didn’t give.
Her breath rasped and echoed back to her. Sweat dripped down her sides. The longer she wrestled with the tapestries, the surer she became that they stood in the way of her escape. Forced proximity to them made her feel ill. She had a knife in her waist sheath, but if she cut through the weave, it might alert Perrikus or D’Chel.
She scanned the room. Of course. She scrambled off the chair and moved the pitcher and plate off the table. It was heavy, but she managed to drag it beneath
the nearest tapestry. She lifted the chair atop it and clambered up so she stood on the chair. Yessssss!
Aislinn curved her fingers around the back of the tapestry and lifted it carefully from its hooks. She took care to keep it flat while getting down. She’d roll it, but not until she had both of them down and was ready to test her theory. Because she had a system, the second tapestry soon lay on top of the first. She’d been anxious the dark gods would be monitoring the wall hangings, but each minute the door didn’t fly open fueled her courage.
She got as far away from the woven fabric as she could and sent a cautious tendril of Mage magic outward. That was the magic she’d need to jump herself out of her prison. It didn’t bounce back. Maybe she didn’t need to roll the tapestries to cloud their magic.
Aislinn didn’t waste time thinking. Heart pounding like a mad thing, she shouldered her pack and called magic, much more than she thought she’d need because of the way this world muted her power. It took two or three minutes to set up a jump. She was vulnerable during that time. If the dark gods caught her, the gig would be up. Her stomach twisted. For half a second, she was certain she’d puke and have to start all over again, since her heaving stomach would cut into her concentration.
Where am I going? She needed to hold a destination in mind. Because it was the only place she knew on this world—and she would not leave without Fionn and Rune—she held an image of the entrance to the cave where D’Chel had trapped her.
Seconds ticked by. Aislinn was so rattled, it was hard to focus her Mage gift. The air shimmered; the walls of the room started to fade. She let herself hope she’d make it. It wouldn’t take much more, maybe another thirty seconds.
In a dim corner of her mind, she heard angry voices shrieking and a door crash open. Then there was nothing but darkness as her jump spell transported her. Aislinn’s heart seized. It was too close. They could track her magic and follow her. She had no way to abort the spell mid-jump. She tumbled out into dead vegetation and barked the command to close her portal before her feet totally cleared it.