“No. They are emergency snacks. Come, I’ll show you how to track and stalk a deer.”
“A deer? Shouldn’t I start smaller?”
Gregory sidled up next to her. He landed another one of his surprise swats along her flank and bound off before she could react. With a mock snarl, she gave chase, playfully trying to snag the tip of his tail each time she managed to get close to him.
They continued their playful run. Gregory sometimes allowed her to catch him and other times she put on a burst of speed, startling him enough to overtake him all on her own. Their wild run continued for an hour in much the same fashion until he picked up the scent trail of a small group of deer.
Gregory ran at a slower gait, dipping his nose to the ground every few strides as he tracked the deer. Lillian matched his pace, her gaze locked on the terrain ahead, scanning for the telltale silhouettes of deer.
Her ears warned her of an incoming beast running toward them. The sounds of snapping twigs and the swish of foliage grew louder by the second. A deer suddenly broke cover on the path ahead of them. It spotted them and veered hard to the left, sailing over a tangled thicket of underbrush. Another deer, running two body lengths behind the first, followed the same path. Lillian spun and lunged to give chase but Gregory pounced first, landing directly in her path, blocking the way with the bulk of his body.
“No, stay still and quiet.” Gregory turned to study the way the deer had come.
She hunched down next to him and remained silent.
He raised his head and flared his nostrils. Lillian mimicked him and caught a very faint scent. Warm mammal, mixed with something metallic and oily.
“Human warriors, headed this way,” Gregory said barely above a whisper. “Stay close. Don’t move unless I do.” He curled a wing over her and shifted until they were just off to one side of the game trail, situated in the deepest shadows the immediate area had to offer. “I want to study them while they are unaware anyone else is near.”
A tingling, chilled magic flowed over her. She’d experienced his protective spell of invisibility a time or two before. To the best of her knowledge, he’d never tried to cloak more than himself. “Is your spell sufficient to shield us both?”
“Yes. As long as you move with me and stay in contact the entire time.” His warm breath washed over her ears and stirred her mane.
It tickled and she bunted him gently on his shoulder.
He inched back very slightly, still keeping contact between them.
“If I had more time, I could have created a spell specific to you, to shield you even if I wasn’t near.” He licked her shoulder, and twined his tail with hers while they awaited the human soldiers. “Remind me to create one for you later. It can be part of tonight’s spell work with the Fae metalsmiths.”
“It would certainly be helpful,” Lillian rumbled against Gregory’s throat.
After a huff of agreement, he turned his attention back to the humans easing their way through the trees.
A voice drifted to her. “I heard something come this way,” one soldier said in a low whisper.
Another soldier, this one a few paces ahead of the one who had spoken, replied in the same quiet tones. “Probably just a deer. We’ve seen enough of them the last few days.”
“And if it was something other than a deer,” a third soldier said as she emerged from around a tree almost beside Lillian, “you two would have frightened it off with all your talk.”
“Personally, I’d rather not run into whatever created that crater, or those malformed bodies,” the first soldier said dryly. “If noise is likely to scare them off, the more noise the better.”
“If noise is the key, we’re not going to find anything anytime soon. Town’s too much of a shitstorm.”
“What, the reporters getting to you?”
“Them and all the medieval society members running around. It’s like the circus arrived. A masquerade ball. Dumbass idea.”
The shorter, stockier one Lillian had started to think of as the squad leader, turned to the speaker. “Oh it was far from stupid—tactical more like. But meant to look like a money grab. There’s something strange with the whole family, the ones running the spa. The grandmother is too nice, and the rest of the family is too helpful and perfect.”
“How can you not like Gran?” the female soldier asked.
“Her real name is Vivian. Who actually goes by the name Gran, and bakes cookies for complete strangers? I keep expecting to find the Big, Bad Wolf and Goldilocks lurking in these woods.”
“You’re getting your fairy tales mixed up,” the first soldier injected. “It’s Red Riding Hood.”
“You know a lot about fairy tales.”
“Welcome to fatherhood, the truest test of manhood. Come to think of it, my kid would love a picture of Bigfoot.”
“Joke all you want,” squad leader countered. “But I’m telling you there’s something strange about the whole family. My money’s on cult.”
“And you’re bull shitting again.”
The leader’s laugh grew fainter, but Lillian swiveled her ears and heard a ‘Maybe I am.’
Gregory held his position until the last soldier had moved on down the game trail. When he deemed it safe, he folded his wings, allowing Lillian to stand. She turned her attention from where she’d last seen the humans. “It’s much like Gran feared. The authorities are suspicious of our family. It’s only a matter of time before we slip up and get our asses tossed in a cage.”
“You could let me handle the humans,” Gregory added dryly.
“No…no massive memory wipes, or missing persons. It would only raise more questions.” Lillian flicked her tail in agitation. “We’ll proceed as planned. Keep working on enchanting the weapons for the Clan. I’ll keep working with the Coven to find ways to confuse and confound the humans.”
Gregory nodded. “As you wish. However, I think we must continue your hunting lesson tomorrow. Our duty will not wait for us tonight.”
“I think you’re forgetting one little detail.” Lillian waved a hand down her body. “I don’t know how to return to my dryad form.”
“I’ll show you once we’re closer to home. Come.” Gregory dropped back down onto all fours and started off in a direction that would lead back home without bringing them too close to the human patrol. Lillian followed in his wake.
Chapter Nineteen
The day of the masquerade arrived sunny and clear, with the promise of an equally temperate night, which was good. The better the weather, the better turn out there would be. She wondered if the Coven had something to do with the perfect day, but hadn’t asked. She’d add the question to the list of things she planned to ask Gran one day, if things would ever quiet down enough in her life to have something as mundane as idle time.
She stifled a yawn and took another sip of tea, and then shifted to find a more comfortable position on Gregory’s stony thigh. Her beloved was presently resting on his stone pedestal, like he’d taken to doing each dawn. Lillian hadn’t seen a reason why she should change her long standing habit of having breakfast in the center of her maze, in the shadow of her tree while sitting on Gregory’s knee. She smiled ruefully. He made a solid bench, but maybe she should start bringing a pillow.
Finishing her bagel, she drew her legs up to brace her feet against his opposite thigh. Sitting crosswise on his lap, with her back braced against his slightly mantled wing, was the most comfortable position. She took another sip of tea and let her mind wander.
In the five nights since she’d first learned to shape shift, Lillian had met Gregory each evening at sunset and he would run with her in gargoyle form, teaching her to shape shift swiftly as well as how to hunt for herself. Last night, he’d started her training in gargoyle magic.
Some things came easily. She could cloak herself from detection without too much trouble, but only if she held perfectly still. As soon as she moved, her shadow spell would break apart like so much fog. Gregory assured her s
he was a quick learner, but she couldn’t help feeling impatient with herself.
Tonight was the Wild Hunt, and she and Gregory would both take part. A small, prideful part of her spirit wanted to be able to match him stride for stride, spell for spell, which of course was impossible since she no longer had her Avatar magic to call on, but that prideful part couldn’t be reasoned with, it simply wanted.
Mostly to impress Gregory.
Her cell phone beeped again, almost a plaintive sound as if it was saying ‘stop wool gathering and get something useful done’. She sighed and picked up the phone from where she’d left it on Gregory’s knee.
She was just thumbing through the assorted phone calls and text messages she’d been ignoring when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A stranger dressed for the masquerade in a long red cloak emerged from the surrounding maze. Lillian tapped her phone off and then slowly straightened.
Alarm hummed through her veins at the way the stranger honed in on her with a predatory intensity. Sweat instantly broke out in a fine sheen across Lillian’s skin. The woman had hair so blonde it was almost white and her complexion was equally pale. Unmarked by blemish or age, she was strikingly beautiful. So much so, Lillian suspected she wasn’t human at all, but a Fae, one of the Clan she’d yet to meet.
More arrived every day. There were so many strangers coming and going from her life, she shouldn’t have been concerned by the arrival of one more. But she was.
“Hello,” Lillian called and gave an accompanying wave. The stranger acknowledged her with a bob of the head. “You must be new here. How may I help you?”
The stranger brushed at her hair in a half conscious manner and she walked closer to Lillian.
“I am new to the land. Perchance you could be of service.”
Perchance? “Always glad to help.”
The woman continued forward and then reached out to stroke Gregory’s stony flank. A flood of instant dislike rolled down Lillian’s body. How dare the other woman take liberties with her gargoyle?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name…”
“I did not give it. But to alleviate your curiosity, I am of the sea, one of the merfolk. A siren. I see the gargoyle sleeps, is he unwell? This Realm can seep the strength from even the greatest of us.”
Lillian snapped her teeth together. Lying would only anger the Fae so she told the truth. “Gregory spends the nights weaving metal and magic together, it is exhausting work. But he is well otherwise, he merely rests.”
The merwoman nodded. “As I journeyed to this landlocked place, I encountered many whisperings among the Fae, the most frequent and interesting of how a gargoyle once again walked this Realm. My inquiries unearthed that this was not just any gargoyle, but the first and greatest of his race—the Sorceress’s Shadow. And the Shadow is never far from his Sorceress.”
Lillian knew the Fae had a number of titles for Gregory and herself, but she’d never heard him called the Sorceress’s Shadow, as if he was somehow of lesser value, not worthy of a unique title in his own right. Lillian took an instant dislike to the underlying meaning.
The siren smiled. It brightened her eyes, making her seem less daunting. “Can I assume you will be participating in tonight’s Wild Hunt?”
“That’s the plan,” Lillian said and then decided to hedge for a bit. “If we can avoid drawing notice from the human authorities.”
“You worry over the humans,” the siren said absently as she smoothed a wrinkle in her deep scarlet cloak. “Odd. I would have thought humans beyond your notice.”
The alarm bells in Lillian’s mind revved up another notch. “Other Fae may echo your opinion, but I can’t say mine aligns with theirs. The humans, while lacking in magic, more than make up for any weakness in numbers. And they have weapons that can kill Clan and Coven. It would be foolhardy to strike out at the humans unprovoked.”
“No, one should never underestimate one’s enemy.”
The siren touched the edge of Gregory’s stone wing, gliding her fingers up and over the ridges of stone as she made her slow and methodical way around the pedestal. The hair at the nape of Lillian’s neck raised to attention when the other woman was hidden from view by Gregory’s wings. She didn’t release the breath she’d been holding until the siren was again in her sights.
Lillian racked her brain for something to say, finally settling on, “Will I see you at the Wild Hunt tonight?”
“Oh, yes. I wouldn’t miss it for all the power in the world.” The siren ducked her head in Lillian’s direction, and bowed in what she could only liken to a deep courtly bow. She turned her attention back to Gregory and gave him an equally deep bow. “Until later, Lillian of the dryads and Gregory of the Livingstone. And if you have need of me before then, call me and I will offer what aid I can. Long ago I was called Tethys.” Then in an unhurried manner, she back tracked her way through the maze.
Tethys? Lillian might not be up on her ancient mythology, but she’d be willing to bet the name harkened back to ancient times. She made a mental note to google the name later. She followed Tethys’s progress with her newly heightened gargoyle senses. When she was certain the newcomer was gone, she turned back to Gregory and patted his stone knee. “I don’t care if the ward stone circle doesn’t consider her a threat, something about her sets my teeth on edge. I’m going to go find Gran and see if she knows anything about this Tethys. Rest well my love.”
Her plan lasted a whole ten seconds after she’d exited her maze, whereupon both the caterer and the florist descended upon her like the proverbial pack of hungry wolves. It was close to sunset by the time Lillian escaped the bustle of tonight’s masquerade and was able to finally seek out Gran.
Chapter Twenty
The forest was still, only the faintest of breezes stirred high up in the canopy. Nearby a cardinal sang his location to his mate. Faintly, she heard an answering call in the distance. Lillian wished she still had the ability to reach out and touch Gregory over any distance as easily as the bird called to its mate, but that power, like the other magic she’d commanded so briefly, was nothing more than a fading memory.
“Well, suck it up buttercup,” Lillian grunted under her breath. She’d just have to swallow her nagging worry a little longer. She looked down at her watch. For once, luck was with her—she’d made excellent time, and was almost to Gran’s rendezvous point, and where Gregory would later join them. From there the Hunt would gather in ones and twos to remain unnoticed, and then ride out once they had great enough numbers. There would be no great circle dance in the old sawmill this time, but the Wild Hunt would ride nonetheless.
Who said stress wasn’t good for anything? It certainly made her legs move faster.
A dash of white glinted through the trees just ahead. Lillian battled the urge to call out, but held back on the off chance a military patrol was out this far. From the reports of the other Fae, this sector hadn’t had any activity in two days. But it didn’t mean it would remain free of mortal soldiers.
Lillian winced at the term—now Gregory had her referring to others as mortal. Just when had that happened?
The blur of white came closer and resolved itself into the unicorn. He galloped to her and then slowed to trot a half circle around her before coming to a stop at her shoulder. With his usual tact and subtlety, he bunted her in the stomach for a pat and nearly knocked her nose off with his horn. “Watch it!”
Eyes streaming in pain, Lillian rubbed at her nose with another muffled curse. With his head hanging low, his ears forward, and his lower lip quivering slightly, at least the unicorn had the grace to look somewhat sheepish.
“You’re forgiven. Is Gregory here yet?”
The unicorn shook his head in his version of a negative response. “No, but Gran arrived a short while ago. Come.” The unicorn trotted off and Lillian followed him to where her grandmother waited.
“Good, you’re here.” Gran’s normally boisterous voice was subdued, barely above a whisp
er.
Lillian glanced over at her grandmother in time to see her straighten from where she’d been sitting on a fallen log. She brushed at her clothing, switching her staff from one hand to the other.
Gran motioned Lillian ahead as they started down a game trail. The unicorn took up the rear of their silent procession. Even he seemed subdued, perhaps aware of the need for quiet and stealth.
****
After another fifteen minutes and unable to hold her peace any longer, Lillian glanced over at Gran, gesturing at her own lips and cupped her ear with one hand.
Gran’s one eyebrow crept upward in question. Her lips quirked a moment later. “Dear, I know you were never very good at charades, and I take it the miming is not a mini stroke, so if you were asking if it was safe to talk, I’d say yes.”
“Thanks.” Lillian rolled her eyes heavenward and prayed for patience.
“The unicorn said Gregory didn’t overtake you along the way. I’m surprised.” Gran glanced around at the thickening shadows as twilight descended upon the forest.
The darkness didn’t concern Lillian. She had excellent night vision. “Last I talked to Gregory, he said he’d join me later, and he’d make sure we didn’t have any spies on our back trail. That was last night. He was already stone by the time I got to the glade this morning.”
Gregory’s absence was logical, perfectly acceptable, and expected.
And Lillian’s stomach was still a knot of tension.
The past week had her on edge and meeting with the newcomer only made everything seem just a touch more sinister.
“Gran, I was sitting with Gregory this afternoon when a Fae I’d never met before came up to us.” She paused, noting Gran’s narrowed eyes, the beginnings of concern. “She called herself one of the merfolk—a siren.”
“A siren?” Gran asked, her face remaining impassive but Lillian still heard what she left unsaid, a very clear ‘why didn’t you say something sooner.’
The Avatars Series: Books 1-3 Page 39