Sunscar was right. Dauro forced himself up onto his paws and into the water.
The river felt diminished without Nibi’s presence. He’d never realized how strong her magic was until it was absent. The same way his chest felt hollow without Chantal snuggled against him.
He drew a big breath, then descended to where the others waited for him.
Rosinette flexed her wings, sending a new stream of blood in the water. How does Nessireth’s portal pearl work?
A spell and demesne magic, he replied. I heard it often enough that I memorized the spell phonetically. Chantal can work the magic.
I’ll do my best, said Chantal, but we need a fallback–
Nibi interrupted. Sunscar, block me. They’re using the–AAH!
Her thoughts cut off, but not before everyone felt the excruciating start of her forced shift.
We must escape. Dauro redirected the energy of his anger toward his purpose. With the portal pearl and Chantal, we have demesne magic and a real-world guide. We have problems to solve. How do we rescue Nibi and keep her unchained? How do we free Rosinette? How do we stop the statues from recapturing us?
Rayapkhal bared his teeth. How do we hide what we’re doing from the fairies?
Sunscar twisted in the water. And how do we get Nessireth’s clusterfucking book? His fins fluttered in agitation. Nibi is hurting, but awake. I’ll reconnect her to our web in a minute or two.
Can someone show me the lock on Rosinette’s chains? Chantal asked.
Sunscar arrowed through the water to hover above Rosinette’s bleeding wings. He sent a detailed mental image to them all.
Is that rusting iron? No magic? she asked.
Yes, replied Rosinette. I’m immune to burns from the Alfar metal in the rods, but iron poisons me. Nessireth reminded me every time she replaced the lock.
Dauro knew about the lock and kicked himself for not realizing what the no-magic iron key he’d seen in the castle might be for.
I can probably open it, said Chantal. I have a universal key.
More secrets! Sunscar’s rage swamped the telepathic network a moment. Why didn’t you tell us!
Dauro was used to Sunscar’s volatile nature, but Chantal wasn’t. Please forgive him. Wraiths only know fear and rage.
Bullshit. Chantal’s acerbic tone took everyone by surprise. Wraiths can learn to project anything they want. Negative emotions just come more easily. Humans are suckers for them.
Sunscar sent a terrifying image of himself with eyes burning and tattoos blazing, mouth open to an inhaled column of gray fog. I eat fear to live.
Chantal sent them all an image of a laughing wraith kissing a smiling Asian woman. Yeah, well, you can live on love and happiness and laughter, too. Quit being a drama queen and help figure out how to get me and my key where we need to be.
Dauro projected his thoughts hurriedly, before Sunscar could take offense and continue the argument. Once the lock is gone, I can use my magic to push the rods out without touching the Alfar.
Rosinette pushed off from the river bottom. Walk along the bank under the bridge. I’ll drag myself up to the water’s edge.
No, you’re too big. The bank is too shallow for you to climb with hobbled wings, said Yipkash as she and Rayapkhal untwined their tails. Rayapkhal and I will create a waterspout to lift you up to the walkway.
I’m immune to Alfar, too, said Sunscar grudgingly. Give me the key and I’ll unlock her.
Nice idea, said Chantal, but the key only works for me. Can’t have prisoners freeing themselves willy nilly. The under-bridge walkway has stairs on this side, too. Should I go up there like the fairies did, or stay down on the bank?
Prisoners? Sunscar asked suspiciously.
Dauro wanted to bite Sunscar. Quit being a thorn in the paw. She’s helping!
Unexpectedly, Chantal sent her amusement. It’s okay. I’m a deputy sheriff from Kotoyeesinay, Wyoming. It’s a sanctuary town with every species you can imagine. Even formerly grumpy wraiths. We have the usual number of troublemakers to take into custody.
Go to the middle, above where the water is deepest, said Rayapkhal.
What’s Alfar? asked Kelvin.
Dauro eased closer to the young hippo. Metal forged by dark elves and designed to hold spells and magical energy. Nessireth said it burns shifters.
Sunscar made a rude noise in their minds. That’s because she paid to add that property, so we couldn’t help each other. Like anything else, Alfar can be used for good or ill.
The underwater current began to curve and speed up, likely the capricorns’ doing. Rosinette swam into the turbulence.
Dauro nudged Kelvin. Let’s go up for air and watch.
Just as they surfaced, Sunscar burst out of the water, transforming from white eel to glowing black wraith in the blink of an eye. Dauro had to admit that Chantal’s novel “drama queen” description fit his friend perfectly.
Sunscar beckoned to Chantal, who was already on the walkway. “Over here.” He sent a mental picture to show the capricorns where to lift.
Rosinette’s head appeared first, then her hobbled wings and spine where the rusting lock lay against her dull charcoal-colored hide. The waterspout bobbled her considerable mass like a pebble in a fountain. It made Dauro glad he’d never annoyed the capricorns.
Chantal pulled something small out of her upper chest pocket. Toeing the raised edge of the walkway, she leaned out and down toward the water as far as she could. Unfortunately, her arm was several feet too short to reach the lock on Rosinette.
Sunscar floated closer. “I can lift you.”
Chantal gave him an assessing look, then nodded. “Deal. Can you hold me like this?” She sent a mental picture.
“Yes,” said Sunscar.
He landed on the walkway, wrapped his arms around her waist, then lifted up and tilted her forward slowly, until they were parallel with the water’s surface.
Dauro found himself holding his breath when Chantal stretched her arm out. She missed the first two attempts to hit the lock.
The third time, she connected and turned. The hasp gaped open, but the four Alfar chains stubbornly clung to it.
Hurry, urged the Rayapkhal. She’s heavy.
Chantal quickly put the key in her teeth, then grabbed the chains one by one to pull them off, grunting with each one. Her pain echoed across their telepathic web.
The moment the chains dropped, the waterspout collapsed. Rosinette sank.
Trusting that Sunscar would get Chantal to safety, Dauro drew a great breath, then plunged down after Rosinette.
The wyvern, rods still impaling her winds, landed on top of the chains, the lock still dangling from one of them.
This is going to hurt, Dauro warned.
Do it! ordered Rosinette.
He shut down his awareness of everything and focused his will. The rods were bigger than anything he’d ever moved with his magic.
The rods moved slowly at first, then faster. When Dauro finally pulled them out of both wings, Rosinette screamed her pain.
Not just in her mind, but though the water, the first sound he’d ever heard from her. She screamed even louder as she struggled to unfurl her wings.
One finally stretched fully, still torn and bleeding. The other was folded in on itself and wouldn’t budge.
Kelvin, said Dauro. Go see if you can nudge her wing out.
Me? Surprise colored his words.
Yes. You’re the gentlest. The rest of us have hooves, claws, or teeth that would hurt her worse. The boy needed to quit thinking he was useless.
Kelvin grabbed a big gulp of air and dove down to where Rosinette lay moaning. He bumped her folded wing with his big round nose. The wing moved a little. A second nudge freed the spur of bone that had been caught. He swam out of the way just in time to avoid being hit by the wing as it snapped open.
Good job, praised Yipkash.
Everyone felt Kelvin’s pride in his success.
Rosinette, said Chantal,
I know a kick-ass healing spell. It packs a wicked punch, but it’s good.
Sunscar dropped into the water and became an eel. You should use it for the burns on your hands. He swam down toward Rosinette.
The wyvern’s thoughts sounded distant. I must sleep to heal. Her head dropped to the silt, followed by her wings. She looked like a giant alien butterfly decorating the riverbed.
Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Dauro thought Rosinette’s color looked more vibrant than it had just a few minutes ago.
Sunscar opened his wide, circular mouth and scooped up the corroded iron lock, pulling it off the chain. This is tainting the water. He spiraled up in the water, gaining speed, then breached the surface. When he splashed back down into the water, the lock was gone.
Nice distance, said Chantal. Who knew eels could spit? She shared an image of the lock resting at the edge of the sand and the grassy bank on the far side of the castle.
Clusterfuck! Sunscar swam in a furious circle. Nibi says the fairies are expecting a team of shifter wranglers with cages to capture and transport us to a broker.
When? asked Chantal.
Dauro shared the memory of what the fairies had said about brokers and wranglers, and gathering the collection in one place for them.
We could wait until they put us together, said Yipkash, then pool our resources.
I don’t know your demesne, said Chantal, but I know wranglers. Busted a big Las Vegas outfit last year. They’ll be expecting trouble. Better to get out before they get here.
She’s right, said Sunscar. The escape has to be now, while it’s just two drunk fairies bumbling around.
They’re drunk? asked Dauro.
Sunscar sent an image from Nibi of two fairies at a long table, pointing wands at each other and laughing. She says they’re in the “everything’s funny” stage.
I have a crazy idea, said Chantal slowly. Risky as hell, but here goes. I present myself at the castle door and tell the fairies I’m the advance team for the wranglers. I’m dressed for the part. When I go to check the collection, I offer to take Nibi to the staging area I’ve already chosen, the far side of the bridge. I cast a spell or two to keep the fairies occupied. As soon as we’re over the bridge, we use my pink crystal and Dauro’s portal pearl to get out. On Vieques, which is a small Caribbean island near Puerto Rico, by the way, we run for the shore, where there’s a big wide ocean for you all to hide in. We know the castle statues can’t handle deep water.
If you fail, the fairies will kill you, warned Sunscar. Or worse, sell you.
Nibi joined the conversation. I think it’s worth a try. I can help distract the fairies. Her mental voice sounded tired and irritable.
Dauro saw too many holes, too many things that could go wrong, but… We’ve put off our escape until it’s almost too late. It’s now or never. Boldness and surprise are our strongest weapons.
If you open the portal in the water right under the bridge, said Yipkash, it will hide our escape. Rayapkhal and I can control the water long enough to keep it from flooding out.
I can help with that, too, added Nibi, if I shift back into my Mishipeshu form.
Sunscar hovered almost still in the current. We’ll have to tell Rosinette.
Dauro glanced down at her recumbent form. Let her sleep as long as possible. In the meantime, please help me share my memories of the demesne and the castle with Chantal, so her ignorance won’t doom her.
You really can do teaching transfer? asked Chantal. I’m impressed. That’s master-level wraith talent. Admiration rang in her thoughts. Could you also transfer my knowledge of Vieques to you and Dauro? If something happens to me, someone else should know what to do.
Sunscar’s body twisted. I can only do it with fear. It was the first time Dauro had ever known his friend to be embarrassed.
Yeah, I figured. She sent a mental shrug. I’ll deal. If Dauro is up for it.
Yes, he replied, I will also deal.
Every bone and muscle still ached, and he didn’t look forward to the headache, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to connecting with Chantal. She intrigued him no end.
Sharing thoughts was usually the last step in the mating dance, not the overture, but when had he and his Ice Age sloth ever followed convention?
8
Chantal resisted the urge to shake her head again. It hadn’t helped the first three times. Memories tumbled in her mind like an excited pack of wolf pups. The magic-rich demesne, the sentient castle, the shapes and power of water, the pleasure of naps, nasty fairies, beautiful friends.
She’d never expected to know what it was like to see shades of blue and green she never knew existed, or to be tall enough to touch long claws to the top of a tree.
Dominating all the memories was magnificent, tortured, generous, compassionate, lonely Dauro.
The leopard part of her was confused. How could he be their mate when there was no scent to inhale, yet how could he not, with a heart as big as a mountain and shifter magic everywhere they looked?
The human part of her knew that nothing in life, especially mating, could ever be a simple equation. The gift of telepathy between true mates was not always possible, and certainly not on the first date. Their free magic was surprisingly compatible, but shifter magic wasn’t the same as shifter-mate magic. Untethered fairy-demesne magic distorted everything.
She was more determined than ever to get everyone out of the dying demesne. Once they were both free in the real world, she and Dauro could see if their destinies were just momentarily tangled or truly intertwined.
But for now, she had to get her aching head in the game. Once again, she was kicking herself for not eating breakfast, and tried not to think about bacon. And the fact that sooner rather than later, she needed to pee.
A quick assessment of her clothes made her glad she’d worn her sturdiest mountain-hiking gear that morning, despite the heat. The equipment belt fit right in. Her collapsible sun visor had the Kotoyeesinay town logo, but it completed the look. Somewhere, she’d lost the tie for her braid, but it wasn’t coming apart too badly yet.
Calling up the memory of the shifter hunters from Las Vegas, she added a confident swagger to her walk as she approached the open castle doors.
“Hello!” she called. “It’s Kitty Breton from Hunter International. I’m here to prep for the pickup.”
After a long moment, Chantal heard that high-pitched voice with a now-slurred British accent. Omorachi, she now knew. “Trixis, you left th’ demesne door open again.”
“Did not,” came a lower-pitched female voice. Trixis.
Omorachi shouted, “You’re early. Come back tomorrow.”
The two fairies stumbled into view, looking exactly as Dauro and Nibi had pictured them in her mind. Omorachi carried a large goblet shaped like a trumpet vine’s flower.
Chantal pulled a tiny notebook and pen from her pocket. “It’s today in the real world, but you’re the customer. It’ll be an extra late fee.” She slowly opened the notebook to a blank page and started to write.
Trixis stared blearily. “How’dja find the portal without chiming in first?”
Chantal shrugged. “Instructions on file. We’ve done business here before. You’re Trixis and Omorachi, right?” Tilting her head, she peered into the darkened entryway behind them. “Where’s Nessireth?”
Omorachi giggled. “Dead!”
Trixis elbowed her hard enough to knock her off balance. “She means dead tired. We’re her nieces, come to help her and fix up the place.”
Chantal lifted her pen. “What time tomorrow?”
“Late.” Omorachi giggled again. “Like old Nessie is… always is.”
Trixis frowned. “How much extra?”
Dauro whispered in her mind. Ever since the teaching transfer, her connection with him was as easy as breathing.
“Two certified Alfar ingots per day,” said Chantal firmly. “Any later than tomorrow, we’ll have to reschedule for at least
two weeks out. Half up front.”
Trixis’s frown deepened.
Omorachi twirled, pulling at the fluttering flare of her black-net flounce to encourage it to fly. “Oh, let her stay and finish. Elsewise, you’ll forever be whining about the cost.”
Trixis tossed her head, sending her pale hair flying. “Fine. We’ll get the book and show you where the animals are.”
“No need. I already know.” Chantal shrugged. “I checked them out on my way in, but we can go again if you want.” She flipped back a page in her notebook to look at her cryptic version of a grocery list. “Except the water cougar wasn’t under the bridge. You already sold her? Too bad. You didn’t hear it from me, but mythicals are bringing high bids right now.”
Avarice gleamed in Trixis’s eyes. “We still have her.” Her thumb pointed over her shoulder. “Come inside. We’ll show you.”
Trixis grabbed Omorachi’s upper arm with sharp claws and yanked to make her follow. The other fairy all but growled when a few drops of liquid splashed out of the goblet.
Dauro’s words insinuated into her mind. Nibi says make them change her while she’s still in the hall.
Chantal put the notebook and pen back in her pocket as she followed the fairies into the castle.
The walls looked like roughly cleaved slabs, but natural quartz didn’t curve into a perfect archway. None of her new friends knew what unique powers rock fairies had, but Nessireth had evidently possessed demesne magic in spades.
The entryway opened into a large, chilly grand hall that looked like it had been ransacked. Untethered glow lights floated randomly throughout, casting moving shadows as they drifted. Empty cabinets and display cases gaped open. Old tapestries lay crumpled on the floor. The few pictures still on the walls hung askew.
To Chantal’s left, the table full of magical clutter that Dauro had described stood in a brighter pool of overhead mage light. To her right, about thirty feet away and facing the table, a small, brown-skinned woman with strong Native American features huddled in a low padded chair. She trembled under an old plaid blanket. Her dull expression didn’t change when the fairies pointed at her.
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