Instead of answering Gran’s silent question, she said what popped into her head.
“My gut told me not to trust her—but it also tells me not to trust half of our Fae allies. Besides, she was able to walk right past all the defenses without triggering one single spell.” Lillian remembered something else that had bothered her at the time. “She even touched Gregory completely without fear. Surely if she was evil and meant harm, Gregory would have sensed it and reacted.”
Gran laughed, the sound harsh, lacking all humor. “Our definition of evil and harm are probably very different, and I know how Gregory thinks. If this Fae was evil, yes, he would kill her without a second thought. However, a Fae might do much harm by how you might reckon it, but if it was to maintain the balance, as Gregory would say, then he might see it as a necessary, if distasteful, deed.”
Lillian’s discomfort grew. What Gran said made sense. One only had to look to a certain black pony with yellow eyes to know Gregory was more forgiving of some of the Fae than he was about the matter of humans and their wanton destruction of nature.
His judgment was triggered by two things. On one front, whatever was a threat to her was destroyed with extreme prejudice. And all other things which threatened the great balance between good and evil were also neutralized in whatever manner he deemed fit.
It left a lot of neutral between the extremes of good and evil.
Gran’s eyebrow arched higher, almost into her hairline. “Now give me details about this Fae. Her power, what did it feel like?”
“Powerful,” Lillian said and then tried to remember more of the meeting. “Powerful. Old. Dangerous.”
“Well that narrows it down a bit. Not in a good way, mind you. What else can you remember?”
Lillian sighed with frustration, at herself, not her grandmother. Why hadn’t she thought to tell someone sooner? Why by everything good, couldn’t she remember so much as the colour of the Fae’s hair? “I can’t picture her…but she did give me her name.” Lillian paused to drudge it up.
“Yes?”
Gran’s prompting didn’t help. Lillian squeezed her eyes shut until it came to her. “Tethys.”
Gran’s quizzical smile vanished, replaced by thin lipped tension. “You’re certain of the name?”
“Yes.” There was no way she had conjured it out of the air.
“Warn Gregory. Warn him now. Tell him a powerful siren is a threat to all we’ve worked for.” Gran swung her staff up into a defensive position and gazed around at the surrounding trees as if she expected an attack at any moment.
Gran’s fear fueled Lillian’s own. In a stroke of pure gut instinct, she reached toward Gregory’s sleeping mind and then remembered. “Dammit,” she said, wanting to utter a stronger word but somehow held it back. “I can’t reach Gregory, not over this distance. To be honest, I haven’t been able to since I emerged from my hamadryad. I’m as good as useless.”
Gran frowned at Lillian, her expression saying they would have a long talk about Lillian’s lack of self-worth later. “If you can’t warn Gregory over a distance, we’ll just have to get closer. Besides, I want to see for myself why Tethys has come. She was never overly fond of land, disdains humans for their narrow minded hate and greed, and dislikes Fae for their complacency. However, she had her own sense of honor, or so my ancestors reported in their books of wisdom.”
Forgotten until then, the unicorn drew their attention with a great rolling snort she had come to associate with equine fear of the highest order.
Gran turned her gaze upon him. “Will you help me, old friend?”
The unicorn made another of those sounds of fear but bobbed his head in ascent. “I will aid you as I can, but I will not draw the siren’s attention, not even for the sake of our friendship.”
“I ask no more than you are willing to give.”
When Gran and the unicorn started back toward civilization, Lillian cleared her throat, for she still had questions. “Tethys is a siren. In mythology, they are known for singing sailors to their deaths. But what of a real siren? Just what can she do?”
“She can sing enchantments.”
Enchantments, those didn’t sound too terrible, but judging by Gran’s white knuckled grip on her staff and the tight lines around her mouth, ‘enchantments’ could be far worse than the word conveyed.
Perhaps seeing Lillian’s doubt, the unicorn took up where Gran left off. “Her voice can strip away one’s will, enslave one so completely the victim is unaware they are even trapped. If it is her wish, the slave is all too happy to die for her, or kill for her.”
Lillian’s breath hissed between her lips, more a strangled wheeze than a gasp of disbelief.
Disbelief was far from her mind. It sounded all too terrible to be true.
“Who is in danger? How many can she enslave at once? And is Gregory immune?”
“Everyone is in danger. At least anyone within hearing distance. As for your gargoyle, I don’t know, but Gregory is male and not at full strength.”
Cold sweat broke out on her body. “We have to do something.”
“We will.” Gran’s barked answer came out sounding drill sergeant hard.
Duly chastised, she admitted she was being a panicky little flake. Her time with Gregory should have taught her to better handle stress and threats.
Together they would assess this new threat, and then they would formulate a plan. And if Gregory was compromised, she’d just figure out a way to disentangle him from the siren’s clutches. She owed him for all the times he’d saved her.
Everything will be okay.
And water runs uphill.
Biting back her own sarcasm, Lillian cleared the lump in her throat and asked, “How can I help?”
“Piercing your own eardrums is the best place to start.” Gran’s tone came across with a deadly serious edge. “I’ll create spells for the three of us. If the situation is as bad as I fear, the spell will trigger at the first note of Tethys’s song. Then we run like hell and worry about everything else later.” Gran paused, her expression thoughtful. “Don’t take on your gargoyle form. You heal too quickly. To be safe you may need to outdistance the reach of her song before you shift.”
As far as plans went, Lillian decided it sounded as well thought out as one of her own.
“To coin a human term,” the unicorn injected, “we’re so screwed.”
Gran sighed. “Perhaps the siren has merely come to join with the rest of us to battle the Riven.”
Oh, Gran, you lie worse than I do.
Chapter Twenty-One
The last of the light had fled some time ago, and Lillian navigated the forest pathways as best she could. It was slow going without flashlights or even the glow of Gran’s staff. Her grandmother didn’t want to risk exposing themselves to military patrols or any of the Fae who might now be under Tethys’s control.
But they were not in total darkness. The unicorn gave off a very slight glow. The pale light allowed Lillian to see the shapes of low hanging branches and the occasional gnarled root along the path without summoning her gargoyle senses.
When she had first raised an eyebrow in question, Vivian had claimed no one else would be able to spot the glow. Unicorn magic allowed them to hide themselves from almost anything. Even a hunter like Gregory would have trouble finding the unicorn by sight alone.
Lillian was thankful for the pale glow. However, she would have much preferred her gargoyle form and the ability to see in the dark.
By Gran’s intermitted mumbled curses, she concluded her grandmother’s night vision wasn’t up to the task even with the unicorn’s illumination.
The return journey to the spa felt twice as long, so much so, Lillian began to wonder if they were lost.
Casting a speculative glance at the trail ahead and the surrounding forest, she spotted a familiar bear-clawed tree, and then around a bend, another familiar moss and fern covered boulder, cracked down the middle one winter by the expansion and contraction
of ice.
No, they were not lost. Just crawling along at a snail’s pace, with a good two kilometers to still walk before they would reach the spa and her maze, where she’d left Gregory sleeping.
How could she have been so stupid? Her instincts had tried to warn her, but she’d rationalized it as paranoia.
The unicorn came to a halt, his ears twitching forward in question. His skin shivered, but he made no other comment or explanation. Burying her fear for Gregory deeper, she called on her gargoyle senses and closed her eyes.
The night’s sounds intensified around her and she sorted them out. Over the buzz of insects, the chirps of frogs, and the cries of the night birds she detected a soft crackle of static to the left of her position.
Without comment, the three of them silently moved toward the sound. The unicorn led the way, with Gran a step behind. Lillian followed several steps farther back to better scan the night.
Her nails burned and itched with the need to lengthen and sharpen as the unknown threat weighed on her consciousness. She fought the urge to shift. Partially because Gran had warned her she’d heal too quickly, and partly because she’d only tried to shape shift in Gregory’s presence.
But she didn’t need to fully shape shift to use her gargoyle senses, and when they came upon the source of the static, the five shadowy shapes slumped on the ground at random intervals were easy to recognize. It was less easy to determine at a glance what had taken down an entire patrol without a shot being fired. There was no death or blood scent and when she calmed her own harsh breathing, she was able to hear the steady slow breaths and the throb of beating hearts. They were merely sleeping. Well, perhaps there was nothing ‘merely’ about their sleep, but they were alive.
“Tethys’s work,” Gran said, answering Lillian’s unasked question. “If she was here for a peaceful purpose, she wouldn’t randomly leave bodies just strewn about, which tells us she isn’t worried about fallout from the humans, likely because she intends to make sure they aren’t a problem.”
A radio crackled again, drawing all their attention toward it.
Gran cursed. “Let’s go. They’re bound to be missed soon.” She directed a frown out into the surrounding forest. “There might already be others out looking for them.”
Lillian glanced back the way they had come. “Then they are bound to see our tracks.”
Gran shrugged. “Something to look forward to later, should we survive.” On that comforting note she started off through the forest at a faster pace. Lillian and the unicorn followed after a quick glance at each other.
****
They found more human patrols and a number of Fae sleeping peacefully under the trees. All attempts to wake the Fae proved pointless. Their efforts didn’t even elicit a sleepy grumble. And Lillian realized Tethys’s enchantment put her victims in a state closer to a coma than natural sleep. “How can we undo this?”
Gran gave Lillian a sharp look. “A siren’s enchantments die with her.”
Lillian took it to mean it was up to them to find a way to defeat Tethys by any means necessary.
But can I kill?
When she’d been attacked by the Riven, she’d defended herself, killing many of her enemies, but it had been the work of the demon seed protecting its host as much as Lillian’s own fortitude. And the Riven were more dead than alive by her judgment. If those Riven hosts had been still alive and aware—she’d probably done them a favor by destroying them.
Images of the helpless inert forms of humans and Fae flashed against the back of her eyelids. They would be such easy pickings if the Riven should happen upon them. And then there was an image of Gregory, how she’d left him sleeping on his stone pedestal, weakened from all the spells he’d been casting these last few days. Tethys had reached out, daring to touch Gregory as he slept.
Could I take the siren’s life?
‘Yes,’ she thought, ‘for Gregory and everyone else I love.’
With that acknowledgment like a promise burning in her heart, she followed Gran out of the forest and into the gardens surrounding the spa.
As they walked the garden pathways, the gravel underfoot the only noise betraying their passage, they came upon more sleeping victims, these a mix of Fae, military, and a good hundred human civilians.
Ah. The masquerade. What a disaster her clever idea had become. Now magic had spilled across into the mundane world. Lillian eyed the sleeping people. The siren must be stopped tonight, for dawn would come and reveal far too much to human eyes.
Lillian came around a sharp turn in the path and nearly ran into the pooka. To her surprise, he was still on his feet.
He stood with his head bowed low, hooves planted firmly and tail hanging limp. He didn’t so much as flick an ear at their approach, but when she laid a hand on his side, he rolled a dull yellow eye in her direction.
Gregory had told her both unicorns and pookas possessed a natural ability to see past deceptions. Perhaps it gave the pooka a slight immunity to the siren’s magic.
After patting his shoulder, she allowed her hand to rest on his withers hoping her small gesture could give him some comfort. “No one enslaves my family or friends. I’ll get you free. I promise.”
Her words might be a common turn of phrase, but the emotions and fortitude behind them were genuine.
Gran tapped her on the shoulder. “Come, we have a siren to discipline, a gargoyle to extract and the night isn’t getting any younger.” Gran sighed a humorless laugh. “And neither am I, but villains seem not to care about those kinds of details.”
“And all before dawn,” added the unicorn in a tone Lillian interpreted as ominous.
“Yes,” Gran whispered. “Because if we haven’t freed Gregory by then, he might be too deeply ensnared for us to free him without help.
“Who the hell is left to help?” Lillian asked more sharply than she’d intended.
Gran gave her a pinched look and pulled an amulet on a chain from around her neck. She hesitated before handing it over to Lillian. It was surprisingly heavy and still warm from Gran’s skin. Actually, it felt too warm, as if it gave off its own heat.
When Gran motioned to put it on, Lillian did, looping it over her head and then smoothed her hair back in place, all the while giving her grandmother a questioning look.
“No matter what else happens, neither you nor Gregory can remain under the siren’s control. She must never possess such power. It will start a war with the humans. It might even tip the scales in the Lady of Battles’ favour if the Fae are forced to battle the humans. War and chaos make her stronger. And I don’t even care to speculate what the Riven might try while our attention is drawn elsewhere. Smear three drops of your blood upon the amulet and it will summon your last allies, and no, I can’t tell you more. The less you know, the less you can tell Tethys if you should be captured. She may already have Gregory under her power.”
Lillian scowled, seeing a problem with her logic. “Why give me the amulet, then?”
“Because I doubt I’ll escape the siren’s attentions either. The best we can hope for is to confuse her if we all attack at once. We’ll need to sneak into the cottage and secure some of those weapons Gregory and the sidhe metalsmiths have been working on. We might get lucky and land a good shot. Then, if luck is still with us, you might be able to wake Gregory and finish off the siren. Or if all goes south, escape with him.”
We’re so screwed, Lillian whispered in the recesses of her own mind, to Gran she said, “Now there’s a scary number of ‘ifs’ to overcome.”
“Yes, and it’s the best plan I’ve got. Tethys is one of the oldest of her kind. She’ll be a difficult adversary to fight, because how does one fight one’s own deepest desires. And mark my words, she’ll use your heart’s wish against you.”
“Great,” Lillian mumbled as she followed Gran deeper into the gardens in the direction of the cottage.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sneaking into the cottage proved surprisingly e
asy. But then again, stealth wasn’t a problem when no other soul was awake to see you, Lillian supposed. Her second greatest fear—that the siren might be holed up somewhere inside the cottage—proved false as well. The house was silent, deserted in a way it hadn’t been in days. For the first time in her life, the old stone cottage offered no homey reassurance.
“We’ve been storing the spell warded weapons below in the wine cellar,” Gran explained. She crossed the kitchen and unlocked a side door, which opened onto a narrow set of stairs leading down to the cellar.
Lillian followed close on Gran’s heels. She called on her gargoyle senses once again, and the dimly lit stairwell became much easier to see. They continued along the rows of wooden shelves with their cargo of quality wines, which stocked the family spa in normal times. They filed past the wood shelves and Lillian found herself in a far back corner of the cellar. The dingy little alcove was devoid of anything of interest, so she’d never had reason to venture over to this part of the cellar.
Gran, however, grabbed the edge of the dumpy little table leaning against one wall and started to move it. The legs dragged on the stone floor and made a painful sound.
Lillian winced at the appalling noise, then looked up at the rafters and cocked her head to listen. Nothing responded to the noise, and she released the breath she’d been holding. While she’d been worrying about something coming up their back trail, Gran had gone ahead and pushed against what had looked like just another section of wall.
But this wall made a grating sound as it swung open into a black abyss. Gran shoved her shoulder against the door a second time and opened it a bit farther. With a muttered curse, she groped around in the darkness. After half a minute, there was a hum and a flickering of harsh light as rows of fluorescent lights sputtered to life.
Under the cold light of the fluorescents, a large room Lillian hadn’t even known existed was revealed. She drew another sharp breath, but only had a moment to marvel at all Gregory’s hard work. Knowing he’d been enchanting weapons for days on end was one thing, seeing the hundreds of them was something else altogether. Her eyes swiftly picked out the shapes of swords, shields, daggers, spears, crossbows, and yes, those were longbows resting against one wall. Their beautiful, elegant carved wood shafts so much more striking than the practical compound bow her uncle had taught her to use over a number of hunting expeditions. Thanks to Gran, she’d even had a few seasons’ worth of practice on a crossbow.
The Avatars Series: Books 1-3 Page 40