Ichabod stepped up beside me, studied me with a curious frown, and then we both began to walk. His eyes danced about warily, as if expecting a betrayal.
“Relax, Ichy. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have gone to all the effort to make a temporary truce, and then break it. I simply would have appeared next to you while you slept, sliced your throat, and then returned home to finish my tea.”
Ichy’s face hardened at the casual threat, but he didn’t speak.
“My part in this is to kill three people,” I said casually, giving him a blank look. “But that number could become two, depending…”
Ichabod frowned. “I’m not switching sides. I have a Blood Debt against the Syndicate. You standing against that is the only thing putting your people in danger.”
I rolled my eyes. “Have you met the crazy lady with one hand? I’m pretty sure I upset her once. Somehow…” I said, scratching my beard.
“Is the paint and beard supposed to impress me? Did you bring me over here to intimidate me? Oh, and another thing. Would you mind guiding me towards the Syndicate camp? I don’t want to waste time later, wandering around looking for it. I’m an old man, after all. Get tired easily,” he said, grinning like a shark.
Instead of answering, I sighed dramatically, and pointed towards the tree.
He must have thought I was pointing out the Syndicate camp, because he looked downright happy to follow my hand.
But what he saw stopped him in his tracks, his face sagging with emotion in an instant.
Matthias Temple stood there, leaning against the tree. The Mad Hatter.
Ichabod’s daddy. And the basis for his Blood Debt. He had sworn to avenge his father for what the Syndicate had done to him.
But…
Here he was, alive and well, leaning against a tree in his enemies’ camp. Ichabod was suddenly running, like a boy returning from his first day of school to give his father a hug.
Now, this wasn’t the first time they had seen each other in hundreds of years or anything. But it was the first time they had seen each other in our world for the first time in hundreds of years. Because the Syndicate had banished him, imprisoned him, and for this betrayal, Ichabod Temple had sworn to avenge his father.
Which seemed kind of pointless, now.
They met in a bear hug, squeezing each other like two bros in a gym. I very carefully didn’t point out that the Syndicate camp was quite literally fifty or so yards away, in full view of them.
I stood a few feet away from them, giving them a minute. They finally turned to face me, both smiling. Ichabod was speechless, as was Matthias, who looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He had been broken out of prison, and been reunited with his son.
“Maybe you can reconsider your Blood Debt, now? This whole thing started so you could avenge your father. But… I brought him back. There’s no need for this chaos. Innocents will die. And in case you haven’t noticed, Indie has genuinely gone psycho. No thanks to you,” I added.
Ichabod’s happiness slowly faded. “We’re well beyond that, now. No matter what you and I want.” I continued staring at him, waiting for him to admit what I suspected. I had given him an opening. But he didn’t bite.
I opened my mouth to press the issue when I saw Matthias stiffen, eyes snapping wide open.
Then he was blasted into the tree by a bar of light. His chest smoked as he groaned on the ground. Ichabod and I spun in disbelief to see an unknown, nondescript, gray-haired man standing before us. He had sauntered our way from the Syndicate camp, and…
It was one of the wizards who had sworn the oath to me.
My rage exploded at the man’s audacity. Now, they all had to die. Part of me grew irrationally excited at that. As if I wasn’t currently staring down a powerful wizard who had just taken down a Maker. A wizard who was now staring back at us without a care in the world. Well, staring at Ichabod, mostly.
“Castor Queen…” Ichabod snarled.
And I blinked in stunned disbelief. Wait… the guy who had taken the Syndicate from Matthias over 200 years ago? He was still alive?
I didn’t get much time to worry about that, because power I couldn’t sense as a wizard was suddenly flying all over the place, tearing up the earth in great big swatches of fire and ash. Two Makers going toe-to-toe.
And cheerleader Nate, with no one to cheer on, because, well, they were both bad guys in my book.
But I had a sudden chill as I watched them fling power at each other, fire splashing over shields of water, fiery rain blasting at the other from two feet above his head, shadowy creatures bursting into existence to attack the other from behind, but obliterated without even a glance.
I had sworn Ichabod safe passage while in my camp. If I didn’t protect him, the war would start. Right now. And even though that wasn’t as much of a concern to me, since the war was going to happen one way or another, I had made a promise.
Son of a bitch. I needed to help the prick. Even though Matthias probably needed immediate help. I glanced back at him, considering casting a protective dome around him, and gasped.
He was gone.
Shit.
Someone tackled me, and I crashed into the grass as fire screamed past where I had been standing. I stared up to see a living serpent of flame, mouth wide, missing me by a foot, but now circling up into the air to attempt another pass.
Alex grunted from beside me, scrambling to his feet. “Thanks,” I said. Then I wrapped him up in air, and launched him away a good fifty paces, not even sure how that was possible. But I could sense Wylde’s hand, boosting my power with Fae juice of some kind.
The kid bounced, once, twice, then came to a rolling stop. The Huntress snatched him up by a collar, shoving him behind her as she drew her bow, held loosely in our direction, not knowing who to shoot, or what the hell was going on.
I turned just in time to see the serpent sailing straight at Ichabod. He was holding off a dozen different attacks from Castor, and didn’t notice the fiery serpent. I tried to grab it, douse it, but it shook off my attempts. Even Wylde could think of nothing to stop it.
So, I grabbed Ichabod by the ankle with a bar of air, and yanked, just as the serpent slammed his jaws shut. I was too late.
The fiery teeth raked across his back, cauterizing the wounds instantly, and Ichabod screamed as I yanked him my way. I threw a dozen different attacks, all projectiles of different kinds, both from my own knowledge, and Wylde’s Fae power. Castor cursed, batting a few of them away, and then disappeared.
I rolled Ichabod over, grabbing his face. He was breathing, but in short, shallow breaths, his face a mask of pain. He was unconscious. Not trusting anyone to help me save the enemy, I stood and backed up a few steps.
Then I advanced, rolling over my shoulder across his chest, snatching a pant leg with my lead hand, and then flinging out my other arm as I completed my roll, standing on shaking legs as I held him over my shoulders. Something I had seen in a special ops training video, showing soldiers how to pick up their injured partners in war zones.
The Huntress nodded approval, urging everyone back with loud shouts as I began shuffling as quickly as possible back to the gates. I didn’t dare Shadow Walk or use any magic while carrying him. One, because it would hurt him, but two, because it would put the Greeks on alert.
So, I shuffled, trying to jog as best I could. And I realized I was doing this through a corridor of my people – monsters, dragons, werewolves, humans, and the like. Carl jogged parallel to me, snapping warnings for everyone to step back. Because they all had claws out, ready for a fight, not knowing what had happened, thinking that Ichabod had attacked me, ending our truce.
I didn’t have the energy to stop them, but Carl and the Huntress prevented them from jogging behind me like a gang, ready to defend me from the Greeks.
Because it was obvious that’s where I was heading.
Ichabod groaned over my shoulder as I finally reached the gates, and the waiting Greeks.
“He needs help,” I gasped.
The Greeks could have been chewing rocks, or trying to shatter their own teeth. They were silently furious. Without warning, Ichabod was suddenly snatched from my shoulders, and floated on a gentle pallet of air directly in front of Indie. She assessed him with cold, calculating eyes. Then Ichabod sailed back through her camp without her even looking.
She met my eyes, and whispered in the most hateful tone I had heard her use. “You broke the truce. ATTACK!” she screamed, and I snapped my fingers, the gates slamming shut with a resounding clang.
But that was barely heard over the screams, grunts, growls, snarls, howls, and screeches of monstrous Greeks suddenly pounding into the wall that kept my friends safe.
I turned, panting with exhaustion to find Ashley studying me.
She was in full Wulfra mode, and wore a sheepskin over her shoulders like a cloak.
Gunnar stood beside her, in Alpha form, a towering white werewolf on two legs, a combination of man and wolf, his lone eye studying me for injury. He wore a lion cloak over his shoulders. The two looked to be hunting for a bully to bully.
They nodded at me. Ashley pointed a thumb over her shoulder, reminding me to get going. She had a hungry grin on her wolfish mouth, as if stretching muscles, eager to play. She wasn’t mad at me. She was excited. Simply reminding me that this wasn’t my fight.
I sagged my head, and began jogging past them towards Chateau Falco, unable to meet the eyes of everyone who was about to go to war. I had put them in this, and now they were about to fight a war against battle-hardened Greek Heroes and monsters.
Fucking Hercules, for crying out loud.
And all they saw was me jogging back to the safety of my house.
Even though I knew it was right, I began to cry. Not cry, really, but my face was awash with tears. I made no sound as I jogged, but the tears kept flowing, and my throat felt raw, and my face felt aflame with shame. The shame of letting everyone think I was running, rather than shouting back at them that I had to go fight a goddess. And that they could handle a few hundred monsters and Greek Heroes on their own.
But that wouldn’t help.
I slowed as war horns cracked the night, deep haunting sounds. Like wails from the pit of Hell. I heard Tory shouting and slowed, searching for her. Not to approach, but to watch. Because letting my friends go to war meant that they could die. I wanted to run around the camp like a crazy person and hug them all.
Which was a very unique position for me to be in.
I finally saw her. She must have noticed me, because she flashed me a quick nod, eyes twinkling with anticipation. Then she turned away, and I saw she was facing a mass of thirty or so kids from junior high school on up, and they watched their school principal give a pep rally.
“Remember all the lessons I taught you! To control yourself, to be in charge, to hold back, and think first…” she shouted, locking eyes with as many students as possible. The crowd nodded, shifting their feet uncertainly. “Forget it,” she hissed at them.
As one, their heads jerked up, and the madness I saw made me take a step back. They were kids. But they looked as if she had just promised them all double-chocolate-fudge brownies covered in vanilla ice cream and molten caramel. Some even licked their lips slowly.
“Today is about getting some stuff off your chest. Getting it out of your system. A cleanse, if you want to call it that.” Their smiles grew. “Sometimes, a machine must release steam to stay in optimal shape. Times like this are designed for just that… to let off some steam.” Like a wave, the children exploded into monsters, all different flavors, sizes, shapes, and colors. Strips of clothing rained down off their sudden hairy, scaled, or armored shoulders. I didn’t even know what some of them were. Because the Beast Master I had saved them from had liked to collect exotic monsters, and although I had thought I’d seen them all shift, I realized very suddenly that I was wrong. So very wrong. Or she had been recruiting for her school, Shift, home for wayward shifters with authority issues who lacked impulse control.
Tory glanced back at me for a moment, eyes twinkling, and then she turned to her students. Green fog suddenly coalesced around her as the horns continued blasting, and screams began to fill the night near the gate, accompanied by the sound of crumbling stone. The wall was failing. “Tonight, we bring the terror!” she shouted.
And like a single unit, Tory’s berserker horde of monsters descended upon the gates.
I shivered, running as fast as I could in the opposite direction. Because with one more speech like that, I would forget all my promises to stay out of the war. Proud and terrified tears splashed my cheeks as I ran, trying to burn away the nagging feeling that I was running the wrong way.
Wylde gripped my soul suddenly, angrily. I didn’t stop, but I did flinch, searching inward. He stared at me, and shook his head one time in disappointment. There was no compassion there. It was the look a coach would give an athlete who didn’t have his head in the game.
And it helped. I found my back straightening, and I was finally able to lift my head, watching where I was jogging. I saw Callie in the distance, standing on the steps of Chateau Falco, staring at me. She saw I had noticed her, and gave me a single nod. Then she smiled.
I smiled back, and found myself suddenly running faster. Simply to let out some tension, not aimed towards the house any longer, but past it, towards a sudden ring of fire that erupted near the giant white tree.
Men and women began jumping out of it, landing in fighting stances, like paratroopers touching ground after their flight.
I skidded to a halt, pointing at a familiar face.
G Ma stared back at me, clutching her throat as she saw the designs on my face.
I stalked closer, stroking my beard.
She looked very nervous, but she stood her ground as she spoke. “Where do you need us?”
A hundred wizards, by the looks of it. Perfect. Since Ashley hadn’t commanded them anywhere yet, I wouldn’t be interfering by giving them a job. “I need a favor from you. No questions. No deviations. You need to do it quickly, and then go help.”
She nodded, looking relieved that I hadn’t simply killed her.
I pointed behind me, not wanting to attract attention, because although the Syndicate hadn’t fled, they looked about to. G Ma glanced over my shoulder, and looked suddenly hungry. “Take them to my dungeons and lock them up. Take enough wizards to guarantee success. You are to lock them all up so they can’t use their powers. Then, individually, you are to take them out and make them swear to obey Nate Temple, Gunnar Randulf, or Ashley Belmont. Only.” Because I had a sudden feeling that leaving my earlier command open to include family might mean they obeyed Ichabod or Matthias.
She nodded, waiting for more. “You will listen to them take that oath, and verify that there is no possible way for them to sneak around the oath magically. Like throwing their voices, having one wizard use his power to speak for another, and things like that.” I took a step closer. “Castor Queen appeared, still alive. A Maker. The previous oath did not hold him.”
She shivered at that, face pale. “K-keep them locked up, then.”
I held out my hand at the chaos behind me. “We can’t afford that. Hercules, and a bunch of other surprises just broke through the wall.”
She swallowed. “Okay.”
“Be very sure. Beyond sure. Have a circle of wizards testing and verifying each oath. Independently. Then… send them to Ashley Belmont. Your people are also to report to her. At least, those not guarding the Syndicate wizards who fail to convince you of their oath. Keep four of your wizards for each prisoner you keep. The rest go to war.”
She grimaced at that. If all the Syndicate were lying, that could mean a quarter of her force suddenly needed to guard the prisoners. But she understood, and nodded.
“Go. Surround them. Now.”
And then I began to run, ignoring her shouts about where I could be found. I raced towards the labyrin
th, fleeing her words, repeating to myself that I was doing the right thing.
I saw fog eddying around my feet as I ran, pounding earth, and breathing hard. The wooden disc on my necklace slapped my throat as I ran, and the fog grew thicker.
That would make the war harder. Fog was the worst. Hiding friend from foe.
But that wasn’t my problem.
I suddenly realized that the fog wasn’t just thick, it was all encompassing. I glanced around, and realized it was well over my head, and entirely surrounding me. I couldn’t see a thing. I continued to run, trying to escape it, wondering if I had accidentally run into one of the valleys. Or if Castor Queen had returned for payback.
Like I said, fog was dangerous in war. You could get lost. Stumble right upon your enemy without realizing it. I continued to run, holding out my arms for protection, hoping I didn’t stumble over a bush.
This was ridiculous. I wasn’t anywhere near the war, and we were well within the protection of my home. This couldn’t be enemy magic.
Just as quickly as that, the fog was gone, and I stood in a marble pavilion. Giant columns rose up from a smoothly polished floor, easily fifty feet tall, supporting a ring of marble that connected every column in a perfect circle. The center of the pavilion was empty, and at least fifty feet in diameter. A single marble table sat near the edge to my right, with a pitcher of wine and a lone goblet.
A woman sat on a stool, looking startled to see me. “Be gone,” she said.
And before I could react, I was falling, wind whistling in my ears.
Chapter 54
I fell for quite a while, and had long since given up on yelling, or shouting, or being afraid.
I studied the stars.
Wylde, on the other hand, had made and dismissed dozens of ideas to try and save us. I knew we didn’t have wings, and couldn’t suddenly sprout any, no matter what Wylde thought he could do with his freaky Fae juice. And I had no shadows to make a parachute.
But I was oddly content.
I ripped through a blanket of clouds, and sound suddenly struck me. I flipped myself over to stare at the rapidly approaching ground. It was madness. The Greeks had broken down the wall, and Guardians shrieked and screamed as they dove into squads of men, only to be blasted away by wizards on the Greek side. Wizards on my side blasted right back, which meant I had to have been gone a while. Unless they had simply locked up the Syndicate and ignored my command.
Wild Side: A Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Book 7 (The Temple Chronicles) Page 30