“They do indeed.” Robin wiped another tear from her eyes, but she trudged on shoulder-to-shoulder with Strella.
“But the Queen of All Trees wouldn't have helped us if your quest was impossible, right?”
“I don't know.”
“Well, I do know, so don't lose heart just yet.”
Robin nodded and shoved her hands into her pockets to warm them. The Queen of All Trees' boon was wearing off, and her fingers and toes were starting to burn from the cold again. Strella was right. Her mission wasn't hopeless, or the Queen of All Trees wouldn't have helped her.
She just had to hold onto that hope and somehow, it would lead her to her daughter's kidnappers. Robin trudged on with a renewed hope burning like the silver fire of the Queen of All Trees in her heart. It was the one light; she couldn't ever let go out.
Chapter 10
Nolo’s last command held, and Sarn slammed into an invisible wall created by his own magic to enforce the promise he’d made. Above all, he must obey his master. Tonight, Nolo was that master, and Sarn could not move until Nolo allowed him to.
Part of him yearned to go to that woman who wasn’t a woman. A gray outline of a deer kept superimposing itself over her. No amount of blinking could banish it. The same thing happened on his minimized map. This woman, and her five friends and their beasts, kept changing forms on his map, and all that moving around was giving him a headache. Sarn rubbed the bridge of his nose to alleviate that, but it didn’t help.
“Come to me,” she said again in a breathy voice that raised goose pimples along his arms.
“Don’t listen to her.” Nolo shoved Sarn backward.
That wasn’t an order, but it dialed back the desire to go to her, and Sarn sagged with relief. But the cloaked woman only laughed at this hitch in her plans. She threw back her cloak, revealing some kind of armor that stopped at her midriff and sparkled in the reflected moonlight.
Something about her screamed, ‘other’, to Sarn’s sixth sense, and he struggled to see her clearly, but she kept blurring as if he viewed her through a dirty lens.
“Come to me,” she repeated, and her soft, seductive voice echoed in his mind. It compelled him to move but not in the direction she’d intended.
“No.” Sarn thought of his little brother waiting for his return and staggered away from her. He threw out an arm to stop Nolo too, but the Black Ranger stalked toward her with menace in every step. “Don’t cross those stones,” Sarn managed to say.
Nolo gave no sign of whether he’d heard that warning or not, but he did stop just short of the inner ring of standing stones. They towered over him, not nearly as much as the enchanted tree behind that strangely enchanting female, but they were twice as tall as Nolo. She stood outside that massive henge, and Sarn hoped she couldn’t pass their cordon.
“Who are you?” Nolo asked, but she ignored him and called to Sarn again.
“Come to me.” Her eyes glowed the same green as his, and he was entranced again. Maybe she could teach him how to properly use his gifts. Most of what he did was by trial and a whole lot of error.
“Not human, unnatural,” murmured Sarn’s magic like a dreamer stirring from a nightmare, but it broke his fascination with her.
“Of course, she’s unnatural. She’s out in this dreadful weather when she doesn’t need to be,” Sarn whispered to his magic, so Nolo wouldn’t hear him talking to it. And so were her friends. They were still hiding behind that enormous tree and its neighbor. What were they waiting for?
“Is she one of the Magic Kind?” Sarn waited for an answer but none came. His magic wasn’t in an information-sharing mood this morning, just great.
If only he could see her clearly, but his eyes refused to focus properly. There was some kind of veil over them. Had his magic put it there? Because it wasn’t a physical barrier blurring his sight of her.
I’ve met her somewhere before. Sarn struggled to piece together where and when and most importantly, why. But nothing sprang to mind.
“I asked you a question.” Nolo seemed to double as he spoke, but it was only his shadow rising from where it had lain, listening to the exchange on the snow. His other persona stood next to him, and when he spoke, they spoke in unison. “Tell us who you are.”
“The Huntress,” she said, and a chorus of howls declared that the chase was on. “Come to me. You belong to the Hunt now.” She extended a claw-tipped hand, red with blood, and her invitation hit Sarn so hard, he staggered under the weight of it.
Oh Fate, she was the Huntress and the hounds of the Wild Hunt were baying in the distance. Sarn had a flash of those green-eyed hounds lying on either side of him to keep him and his little brother warm. He felt a cool leathery hand, with its claws carefully retracted, touch his brow, and soft fur slide under his fingers then the memory vanished.
The Huntress was right. Sarn did belong to the Hunt. They’d caught him once when he was just a feverish boy caring for his younger brother, and they’d let them both live. This was the price for that.
“She’s right,” he said. Nolo shook his head, unwilling to believe it, but Sarn couldn’t lie. His magic wouldn’t allow it.
Neither could he go to her. The promises he’d sworn would never allow that either. Then Miren’s face ghosted up. He didn’t look much like him because they were only halfbrothers.
“Don’t go to them. We need you,” the apparition of his brother said as the eleven-year-old held up a baby boy who stared at Sarn with unblinking green eyes. The baby extended one chubby fist toward him, staking his own claim.
Sarn blinked away the tears in his eyes. Miren and that baby were gone. Seeing them had weakened the Huntress’ summons, but it was still a low-level hum in the back of his mind. That hallucination had seemed real enough to touch, and it had him backing away from her.
Nolo was staring at him, not again, but the Huntress was smiling as if she knew what he’d seen. But that was impossible.
“Ride with me, Mageling.” The Huntress gestured, and a white moose stalked out of the shadows to stand beside her. Its eerie green eyes locked onto Sarn’s.
“Unnatural,” Sarn’s magic whispered into the back of his mind as it pushed him to move away, far away from the Huntress and the moose with such intelligent eyes.
“Come to me,” the Huntress beckoned to him again this time, with impatience.
“No,” Sarn tried to say, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate. He remembered running through a dark forest with the hounds of the Wild Hunt howling in the distance.
“Why deny me, boy? You rode with me once before. Don’t you remember? Or did he make you forget?” The Huntress glared at Nolo, but he didn’t seem to care.
Nolo dropped back to stand even with Sarn, but his alter ego, a matte-black man-shape with a billowing black cloak, stayed put just on this side of the inner ring of standing stones.
“Sarn, look at me.” Nolo gripped Sarn’s chin and forced him to look down at the man he’d wanted so badly to impress this morning. But Sarn averted his eyes because he feared what he’d see if he looked into those eyes.
Nolo’s calloused black hand was cold against his cheek and bare too, but Nolo was always prepared for every eventuality. Stories abounded about his legendary ability to pull exactly the right thing from his rucksack at the right time. That detail more than any other finally snapped Sarn out of the Huntress’ hold.
“Where are your gloves?” Sarn asked.
It was a stupid question, but he couldn’t stop staring at Nolo’s bare hands. They were shaking until he captured them in his gloved ones and rubbed them. Nolo had not let Sarn leave the mountain this morning until he’d been properly kitted out with hat, gloves, scarf and enough layers to keep him warm, none of which Sarn had had before that. Then, the Ranger had gone one step further and handed Sarn a steaming bowl of stew and a crusty roll and told him to eat his fill.
It was a small thing, the clothes, and the food, but it had touched Sarn deeply because he’d been hungry an
d cold when he’d met Nolo at fourth bell. No one had ever gone out of their way to provide for him without expecting something in return. But Nolo hadn’t wanted anything except for him to be fed and clothed properly for the cold day ahead, and Sarn would never forget that.
Even though his hands weren’t much warmer than Nolo’s, Sarn rubbed them. Only the magic skittering across his skin kept winter from biting too deeply into his bones. But it was enough to warm his hands inside the gloves because he willed it to.
Nolo seemed to double again, but it was only his alter ego joining them. Sarn could almost feel that mantle of power settle onto Nolo’s shoulders. It engulfed Sarn too, and everything was that chest-tightening darkness.
Words were exchanged, but they were garbled and took a long time to reach Sarn. He had no idea who was doing the talking because it wasn't him. Another moment passed before the glow of his eyes cleaved through that darkness, freeing Sarn then the world snapped back into fine focus.
Whatever Nolo had done had blunted the Huntress’ power. Sarn sagged in relief as the urge he’d been fighting to go to her finally faded. The Marksman’s hooded head peered over Nolo’s shoulder at the woman in abbreviated armor. She stiffened and flicked snow at Nolo.
“Be gone Death’s Watcher. My business is not with the Deathless this night. I came for the boy with magic in his blood.”
An invisible force slammed into Nolo, and he flew backward over the meadow before Sarn could grab him. The promise to serve yanked Sarn after him, which wasn’t a bad thing since the Huntress had just said she was here for him, and he would have followed anyway. Helping Nolo would go a long way toward earning that trust Sarn coveted. Or maybe not since a black blur also chased them.
Chapter 11
Hours had passed in a drowsy ease as Hyntra had ridden and schemed then schemed some more to keep her mind active and alert. They’d made good time following the unerring green beam emitted by the finder stone she’d dropped in between her breasts. It vibrated as it pointed the way to the mage boy she’d lost years ago. Every mile brought them closer to a reunion until the forest ended suddenly, and she spied several standing stones between her and her quarry, not that it mattered.
Sarn was an easy mark. He had no protection from her influence, no male of breeding age did especially if he’d spent any time with a member of the Wild Hunt. And Sarn had. Then, he’d been a feverish kid barely old enough to breed, but old enough for her to sink her claws into him.
He would come to her when she called. He had no choice in that. There was a compulsion buried deep inside him. He couldn’t fight it even if he tried, but he wouldn’t. There was a wildness in him, and it was rooted in his magic. That was what had first attracted the Wild Hunt. Not all mages had that wild spark in their hearts, but he did.
That wildness was what made him so powerful, and it was still there just below the surface. She could see it burning brightly inside him. It wanted to break out, but it was chained by something—a spell maybe? No matter, she’d have fun breaking it now that he was old enough for her other favorite pastime. Hyntra studied him for a moment longer then stepped out of the shadows.
Sarn was taller than the last time she’d seen him, but he still had that unfinished look all teenagers had and plenty of untapped potential. The possibilities were truly endless with him and look at that. Fate had gift wrapped him and served him up on a platter of snow.
“Come to me,” she said in her most seductive voice.
“No,” he whispered, but his voice sounded strained.
She smiled as his luminous green eyes dulled, killing that momentary rebellion. Sarn swayed as she cranked her charisma up to irresistible levels because he must come to her. That was the rule. He was the prey, and she was the hunter. She could throw everything she had at him, but he had to walk through those twin rings of menhirs under his own power.
“Come to me.”
Because he must. Once he passed beyond those annoying rocks, he was fair game but not before. All she could do was tempt him from out here. Those stupid rocks denoted so-called ‘safe havens,’ and she couldn’t violate them no matter how much she wanted to. A double ring of those stones separated her from her quarry.
Hyntra extended her hand into the gap between two of those stones and pulled on the bond between her and that mage boy. They stood twice her height and were as wide as a person. The air between them crackled and vibrated with power as it pushed her hand away. She couldn’t cross that boundary, but he could. So why didn’t he do it already? She had a timeline here and couldn’t stand about waiting all day.
“Come to me.”
No man could resist her. So a boy like him didn’t stand a chance, but he continued to stand there as if struck dumb by her allure. Maybe she ought to tone it down a little, but she was so sick of rules. Why the hell didn’t he come to her?
The spell in her pocket throbbed, reminding Hyntra that her rule-abiding days were numbered. Soon, she and her hunters would be free from all constraints the way nature had always intended. Bit by bit, she was taking that power back, starting with this mageling. With his power at her command, she could break these circles and destroy all the havens. Then, her prey would have nowhere to hide.
“Come to me,” she said in a throaty purr that never failed to ensnare boys of his age.
A man-sized shadow stepped away from the Ranger who stood between her and her quarry, screening him from view.
“He's not yours,” the shadow said as the black bow appeared in his hands. He extended it to the Ranger who was his physical focus, and Hyntra smiled.
“Be gone Death’s Watcher. My business is not with the Deathless this night. I came for the boy with magic in his blood.”
With a flick of her fingers, Hyntra sent a tremor through the earth, and it launched the Ranger riverward, separating him from the supernatural entity that was tied to him. But her hasty reaction had an unintended effect—it sent her quarry, the mage boy, hurtling after him in the wrong direction.
“No, no, no! Come back here.” Hyntra reached out, but those damned menhirs vibrated like plucked strings, and a shield shimmered between them. Her hand bounced off it, and an electric shock traveled up her arm.
It needn’t have bothered. That was a one-time spell she’d been saving. The force stone lay quiescent in her pocket now, drained of its one effect. Anger turned her world scarlet.
As she blinked to clear that red haze away, a green-glowing man flickered into view for a scintilla of a moment in between the two circles of standing stones. The golem shook his head once then vanished, but the shield remained, and it would block all attempts to capture Sarn.
Damn it. She’d wasted her one good shot on the wrong Ranger. If she could just separate him from that Ranger, Sarn would be hers to do with as she pleased.
“I told you, that boy isn't yours,” a three-dimensional shadow said as it glided across the snow. It wasn’t in a hurry to catch up with the Ranger it was bound to. Now that was interesting and potentially exploitable.
Hyntra mulled that over as she swung onto the back of her mount. “I will get him. It’s inevitable. You can’t be with him every moment of every day. One day, he’ll slip your leash, and I’ll be there, waiting for him. No one escapes the Wild Hunt for long and lives.”
And it galled her that this mage boy had. He’d been little more than a child the first time, but not now. The memory of that night still enraged her. Hyntra gripped her mount’s antlers hard enough to crack them. Sarn wouldn’t slip through her fingers again.
“Maybe he’ll come to us,” Brin said from somewhere behind her as the rest of her hunters rode up. He was like her, all deer where it counted and all man where it didn’t.
Hyntra tilted her head, considering. “Maybe he will.” But she hoped not because there was no fun in that. Sarn was made to be hunted, and she was keen to fulfill that destiny.
“We should go. Heshen should be done with his errand by now.”
Brin was
right. Hyntra nodded and turned her mount toward the rendezvous point. She gave the signal to ride back into the enchanted forest. “Let’s see what else we caught tonight.”
As one, the Wild Hunt wheeled their mounts and melted back into the sleeping forest. The wind knocked the heavy snow off the boughs overhanging the spot where the Wild Hunt had stopped, covering their tracks.
Chapter 12
Sarn slipped and slid as he ran, but the snow was too deep. He just couldn’t run fast enough. Nolo was a dark blur against the lightening sky, but his trajectory had bent earthward, and he was losing altitude at a rapid rate. He’d traveled more than a mile from the two rings of standing stones, and now, he was falling toward the River Nirthal.
How had the Huntress thrown him so far? She hadn’t even touched Nolo, but Sarn had felt something slam into the man he’d wanted to impress. Now, he had a second chance, but he was losing it just as fast as Nolo lost altitude. He wouldn’t screw this up.
Sarn called up his power, but it ignored him in favor of curling itself tighter around his internal organs. That wasn't helpful. How had the Huntress managed to knock Nolo clear across the meadow when he couldn’t even get his damned magic to lend him a little speed? Sarn reviewed that incident as he ran looking for clues he could use to motivate his own magic.
He hadn’t sensed any magic in the Huntress, not like his until she’d flicked her fingers in Nolo’s general direction and sent him flying. But Sarn had sensed several lumir stones on her person, and they hadn’t felt like any other type of lumir crystal he’d ever encountered. So then, those stones must have had something in them, a spell perhaps. But Sarn didn’t have anything like that in his pockets, just the regular lumir crystals that emitted light not concentrated magic.
“Could I make something like that?” Sarn wondered aloud.
The question piqued his magic’s interest enough to send a silent, yes, whispering through his mind. Then it curled up again in his core and ignored him. Well, there went that idea. Sarn would get no magical help with this. He must save Nolo on his own. Maybe that would make more of an impression. Maybe, but Sarn put that thought aside and concentrated on running.
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