Something to Curse About (Discord Jones)

by Gayla Drummond

  “Not a problem, dude. In fact, let’s skip the whole walk of horror thing.” Lacing my fingers through one of his belt loops, I teleported us to a spot just before the open castle gates. “Thank you for flying Discord Airlines."

  “I didn’t get my peanuts.”

  “Maybe next time.” I wrinkled my nose, letting go of his belt loop and moving to his side. “Phew. I don’t think I want to know what that smell is.”

  “You don’t,” he assured me. “You really don’t.”

  We looked at the open gate then back to each other. “I don’t want to go in there.”

  “I don’t either. How about you shout a challenge at him from here?”

  I smiled. “I like that idea. Okay, here goes.” Drawing in a deep breath, I yelled, “Yoo hoo! Cernunnos is here to kick your ass!”

  Logan grunted. I glanced at him, about to yell something else, and saw him start to sag. “What the….”

  His knees hit the ground and he fell forward, catching himself with both hands, and I saw the arrow quivering in his back. “Logan!”

  “Pull it out. Poisoned.”

  Oh, no. I grabbed the arrow just past the feathery part, gritted my teeth, and yanked. Logan’s yowl of pain ended in a groan. Arrow in hand, I turned to look behind us.

  Dalsarin already had another arrow loaded and pointing. He released it, and I ducked. It flew over my head. Logan hissed, trying to regain his feet. “Run.”

  “Not without you.” I deflected a third arrow with a slap of my TK, sending it off to the side. It struck a cage and the decomposing corpse inside jerked upright, shoving its arms through the bars to flail at nothing.

  Two more arrows whizzed toward me. I dropped the one I held, grabbed a handful of Logan’s shirt and teleported twice. First behind Dalsarin, and then out of his pocket realm to the ravine. Dalsarin’s fifth arrow narrowly missed Alleryn’s thigh before thunking into the ravine’s wall. Releasing my hold on the hem of the dark elf’s shirt, I teleported once more, to the top of the ravine, which put the Hunt between him and us.

  Still clutching Logan’s shirt, I stretched to look down and focused, setting the arrows in the quiver on Dalsarin’s back on fire with a push of pyrokinesis. He was reaching for one when they burst into flame, and yelped. I couldn't resist a giggle, watching him drop his bow and un-sling the quiver to fling it away before his hair caught fire.

  Cernunnos pointed at him and Dalsarin screamed as his body contorted. I felt my eyes widening, a giggle caught in my throat, watching as the dark elf became a large, white buck. The Horned God’s voice boomed. “Flee!”

  Sides heaving, the buck nearly fell down as it turned to obey, but with a desperate-looking scrabble of hooves, it managed to take off down the ravine. The riders shouted, but Cernunnos decided to give the transformed dark elf a sporting chance, holding up a hand to keep them from racing after the buck.

  I stopped watching because Logan collapsed. Not only collapsed, but he quit breathing.

  “Oh, no.” Rolling him onto his back, I pressed my ear to his chest and couldn’t hear or feel his heart beating. “No.”

  Less than a second later, I began CPR. “One, two, three….”

  After the first two breaths, a horn blew, and I heard the Hunt race after Dalsarin. Pounding hoof beats filled the air and faded as I kept going. By the third time I blew air into his lungs, my eyes were burning with unshed tears. “Come on. One, two….”

  He couldn’t die. Terra needed him. Hell, I needed him. I’d come to depend on his calmness in the face of any danger, and his quiet strength. “Five, six, don’t die, nine, ten….”

  I couldn’t let him die because he trusted me. Trusted me enough to follow me into dangerous situations without batting an eye, and in spite of what Nick thought, he’d never let me down. “Fifteen, sixteen, damn it, Logan, nineteen….”

  Failure wasn’t an option. I couldn’t fail him or anyone else, not after failing Ginger so badly. A tear escaped, and I choked on a sob. “T-twenty, twenty-one….”

  Reaching thirty again, I took a breath, pinched his nose closed, sealed my mouth over his and blew, watching his chest rise from the corner of my eye. Blew again, and dragged the back of my hand across my eyes while sitting up to start chest compressions again.

  Logan coughed, his eyelashes fluttering. I held my breath, clasped hands resting on his chest, and felt the heavy beat of his heart. He coughed a second time, and I scooted back as he rolled onto his side.

  His eyes opened while he noisily sucked in air. I began laughing and crying at the same time, while stroking his arm.

  THIRTY-TWO

  “Come on, horse.” I touched the shoulder of the horse Logan had ridden, trying to get it to kneel the way Talia had. Both our horses had stayed behind, but all of the hounds had gone with the Hunt. Logan leaned against the ravine’s wall, his eyes closed. “Are you going to pass out?”

  “No.” He opened his eyes, and began to smile, but it turned into a grimace of pain. “Last of the poison’s working itself out. If you don’t mind helping me get my clothes off, I can shift in a few minutes.”

  “And then I’ll have a tiger with a hole in its back.”

  Logan closed his eyes again. “No, it’ll heal. One of the perks of being a shifter: If we’re conscious and can shift shape, most injuries we have heal during the shift.”

  “Oh.” I left the horse’s side for his, and helped him sit down. It took a bit of doing to pull his boots off without dragging him away from the support of the wall. I left his socks because the cuffs of his jeans were wet from grass residue. Next, I winced and chewed on my bottom lip while we dragged his tee over his head. The back of it was muddy with blood and dirt. “You’re going to get an infection. It’s full of dirt.”

  “Not an issue.” He’d turned too pale for my liking, and his fingers plucked uselessly at his belt buckle. Head ducking, I bent and unbuckled it before undoing his jeans. He said, “I’ll lift up if you’ll pull them off.”

  “Sure.” I kept my head down, feeling a totally inappropriate blush blooming. At his feet again, I grabbed handfuls of material, avoiding the damp cuffs. “Ready when you are.”

  “Okay.” He planted his hands to either side and lifted himself. I pulled, readjusted my grip, and pulled some more, until the jeans slithered the last few inches and were clear of his feet. Keeping my head down, I tugged off his socks, rolled up his jeans, and put everything with his boots.

  Meanwhile, Logan shifted shape with a bonus soundtrack of hisses and growling groans. Sounded awful, but I kept my gaze averted. Maybe one day, I’d learn not to be embarrassed around naked men whom I wasn’t dating, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath.

  Talia snorted, pinning her ears back. I risked a peek. Logan, now fully tiger, shook to settle his thick, white-streaked black fur. I turned around. “Feel better now?”

  He stretched, claws scraping across the rocky ground. Under the guise of inspecting his back, I ran my hands over his fur. In tiger shape, he was a little larger than a pony. Unable to find where the arrow wound had been, I gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You’re whole instead of holey.”

  Logan responded with a low chirp, his head rising and ears perked. I listened, and heard the far-off sound of the horn again. “Are they coming back this way?”

  Before he could answer, we saw the white buck running along the edge of the ravine. Foam flecked his muzzle, and red streaks along his sides bore silent evidence that the hunters had gotten a few shots at him.

  I tried to squash a surge of pity, seeing him. Yeah, he’d done terrible things and obviously had some major issues, but being changed into a prey animal and used for target practice seemed like cruel and unusual punishment to me. If death really was the only way to put a stop to him, I preferred something quick and clean.

  Logan snarled and leaped, across the ravine and a third of the way up the opposite wall. About to yell at him, I closed my mouth and hurried to Talia instead. Once mounted, I turned her head t
oward the ravine wall and hoped while giving her my heels.

  She took off at a dead run, and I thought we’d smash into the wall, but she jumped and began climbing air. We reached the top, and I saw the Hunt coming in the distance before turning her to go after Logan and Dalsarin.

  Tigers weren’t really built for speed, but Logan gained quite a bit of ground on Dalsarin before I caught up with him. My heart sank when he didn’t acknowledge my arrival, his attention fully focused on the white buck. It appeared the Hunt had him, now that he’d changed forms.

  I glanced back and found the others were a lot closer, and had one of those moments when I had no idea what to do when I saw they were all armed with spears. Where the hell had they gotten those? They didn’t bode well for a quick, clean death.

  Keep riding? Call it quits, get out of the way, and let them finish things?

  Try to catch the buck first?

  Why would I do that? I didn’t have a good answer, other than still-present pity. I could use my telekinesis, knock the buck off into the ravine, and hope the fall broke Dalsarin’s neck, ending the Hunt and the problem. It’d probably be a quicker end than what the Hunt had on offer.

  I kicked Talia’s sides, hoping she had a higher gear. She snorted and did find a little more speed, passing Logan. The ground whizzed by beneath her hooves, more quickly than I felt comfortable with. We began gaining on Dalsarin, though maybe he wasn’t running as fast anymore. He had to be exhausted and was probably suffering from blood loss. I had time to consider whether depriving the Hunt of the grand finale was a good idea or not.

  Being in front of everyone, I had the best view when the white buck slewed around and slid backward, sending up a cloud of dust until he came to a halt. He lowered his head and pawed at the ground.

  I nearly flew off the horse when I tugged on the reins. Talia responded like a finely tuned cutting horse, dropping her hind end almost to the ground to slide to a halt and somehow turning too, to present her side to the buck. I lost a stirrup, the saddle horn punched me in the stomach, and one side of my face made contact with her neck. “Oof! Ow, crap that hurt.”

  “It’s about to get much more painful.”

  I did fall off the horse then, shocked by Dalsarin’s voice. Dirty and bleeding from a half dozen places, the dark elf had become human-shaped again. He raised his arms, and I froze as a ginormous, glossy black snake’s head rose from the ground to shade him. “Allow me to introduce my god, Miss Jones: Apep, the Eater of Souls.”

  “Sorry, don’t know that one.” Having landed on my rear, I scrambled back. Talia neighed, reared, and took off, leaving me alone. Only for a few seconds, because Logan stopped beside me right before the Hunt pounded up.

  Dust flew and swirled, rising high in the air. I expected Cernunnos to say something, but he threw his spear. Cutting through the dust, it slammed home in the center of Dalsarin’s chest and pinned him to the giant snake’s body.

  Eyes wide and his mouth falling open, the dark elf grabbed the spear’s shaft with both hands. Crimson dripped from his lips as he tugged. Apep shuddered and rose higher, lifting the dark elf from the ground. The snake god’s hiss sounded annoyed.

  Two more spears flew through the dusty air. One struck Dalsarin’s stomach, and the other skewered Apep’s right eye. The ground shook when he began swinging his head around, his long, heavy body rolling in pain.

  The dark elf disappeared into his god’s coils, and I heard the spears snap. I felt it would be a great time to leave, but Nick, Schumacher, and Martin were out of reach because I couldn’t tell which they were, thanks to the solidified shadows disguising the riders. Two more spears went airborne and thudded into Apep.

  He struck, grabbing one of the riders off his horse, tossing him in the air, and swallowing him whole. My heart stopped; I had no idea who he’d eaten. Apep struck again, but the next rider still had a spear and stabbed it into the roof of the snake god’s mouth.

  Mouth snapping closed, Apep swung his head in our direction. I reached for Logan, intending to teleport, but the snake god’s nose struck my shield, which appeared a split-second before he would’ve smashed into us. I had an up-close encounter with a snake nostril large enough to inhale my head as the shield bent inward from the force of his blow. “Oh crap, crap, crap! Go away!”

  Gods do not follow the orders of mere mortals.

  Apep drew back, opening his mouth. Part of the spear dangled from the roof of it. I nearly peed myself when I realized he was unhinging his jaws. He meant to swallow us whole, shield and all. Logan and I reached the other side of my shield at the same time, both huddling against it like six more feet of space would make a difference.

  The snake god forced his mouth down onto the top of my shield, blotting out the sunlight. He compressed it and I shoved my hands against the top, as though I could hold him back. Pain lanced through my head.

  People who’ve had near-death experiences always talk about seeing their lives flash through their minds. If mine did, I didn’t notice because I was too busy screaming, certain my shield would fail and we’d be swallowed.

  Logan snarled, straining upward, his shoulders pressing against the shield. I leaned against him, closing my eyes, and attempted to teleport us away. It didn’t work. The shield didn’t just keep things out, it kept me in.

  Great time to learn that.

  I opened my eyes and found my arms covered in tiny white lines of electricity. Saying a prayer, which went something like “Oh god, I don’t want to die,” I concentrated and pushed. Lightning surged up my arms to my hands, went through the shield and right down Apep’s throat.

  The world shook.

  No longer screaming, I knew it wouldn’t be enough even as I fed all of the lightning I could generate into him, fighting the pain thundering in my head that threatened to blow off the top of it. I needed just a little more, and reached, hoping to find it. I found something, a reserve I hadn’t been aware of, and dipped into it. From the corner of my eye, I saw Logan’s fur stand on end and worried I was frying him. Then my brain went supernova as more electricity poured out, and all I could do was hope like hell I didn’t pass out before Apep let go.

  I did.

  ***

  The first clue I wasn’t dead came courtesy a humongous migraine. I gagged, and hands rolled me over before I began vomiting. The sound of my own retching hurt my ears. Vaguely aware of someone holding my hair and a hand rubbing my back, I wondered what had happened.

  Someone shouted in my ear. “A rousing battle.”

  I managed to open my eyes and glare at Cernunnos. He hadn’t actually shouted, it had only sounded that way. I could hear everyone breathing, the scuff of hooves and boots on the ground, and it all stabbed into my brain. The best I could do was a whisper. “Not so loud.”

  Then I blinked, because Thorandryll stood next to the Horned God, who looked a little see-through. Whoever held my hair back let go of it, and the person rubbing my back pulled me into sitting position. My head screamed, but I groaned.

  “Sorry, Cordi,” Nick said, slowly leaning me back against him. “Do you have anything you can give her?”

  “I didn’t bring my bag.” Alleryn’s face swam into focus. He touched my forehead, only to move aside, replaced by a deer muzzle. My eyes crossed, and I closed them again.

  Cernunnos’s hand felt real enough and hard like wood, or maybe horn, when he laid it on my head. At least he didn’t blast me. Instead, warmth spread through me, and the pain in my head slowly drained away until I felt exhausted, but didn’t hurt anymore. “Thank you.”

  He snorted and took his hand away. “You’re an intriguing child. Look at what you’ve wrought.”

  Deciding he meant for me to open my eyes, I did. He’d already moved from in front of me, so I took a look around, taking stock of everything.

  Three elves: Thorandryll, Alleryn, and one of the pair who had brought the horses. The other must’ve been who Apep ate. Deputy Martin was crouched by a shaking, wide-eyed Sch
umacher, who sat on the ground, covered in dust.

  Nick had his arms around me, so I knew he was all right, and Logan squatted beside us. Nearly everyone accounted for, I scanned our surroundings, noting the horses waiting, and the hounds growling and snapping at each other while they ate something.

  “Um,” I said, lifting a hand to rub my eyes before taking another look. “What are they eating?”

  “Roast snake,” Logan said. “Well-done from head to about mid-body, medium rare from there to tail.”

  “But ah,” I couldn’t see the snake’s body.

  “You blew him up.” Nick gently squeezed me.

  “Blew him up?”

  “Kerplooey,” he agreed.

  I looked at Cernunnos. “I blew up a god?”

  “Nay, child. You merely destroyed his earthly Avatar.” One of his deer ears flicked. “Quite a feat for a mortal.”

  “Oh.” Sal had said something about Avatars. “How many more does he have?”

  His horns tilted to the left as the Lord of the Hunt studied me for a long, uncomfortable moment. I’d decided he wouldn’t answer right before he did. “Two more, this cycle.”

  “Is he going to come back here?” I hoped not, but Cernunnos shrugged.

  “I know not, but vigilance wouldn’t be amiss.” He straightened his head. “Should he return, he’ll do so hungering for your blood.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Cernunnos let out another deep belly laugh. It trailed off as he faded from sight.

  Thorandryll gave orders to gather the horses. Nick helped me to my feet, and I yelled at Leglin. “Stop eating that! You don’t know where it’s been or what it’ll do it to you.”

  My hound dropped a chunk of snake flesh and slunk over to me, his tail tucking between his hind legs. “My apologies, mistress.”

  I bent and hugged him. “Let’s go home.”