Red Claw grunted and knelt, taking up a willow rod. “Yes. If we each open a portal, it would flood the area with magick. Garethan could not take the chance of sending mages to intercept something so broad—and unknown.”
Eristta knelt beside him, her eyes following the diagram as Red Claw formed a triangle in the dirt. “He would use his closest and surest resource.”
“The golems,” Darous finished, leaving Red Claw’s shoulder to land on the tip of the willow rod. Hanging on by one hand, he swayed with its motion. “We will need to know how to operate them.”
Staring at the brazen firewhit, Red Claw grudgingly admitted his tenaciousness had purpose. “I will show you.” With one hand, he lifted the band of claws free of his neck and held them out. “They are similar to a living magick. Sensitive to he or she who handles them. I will give you the words to say, but you must bring to bear your own pure intent, or the doorway will fail.”
Eristta was quick to nod, her beautiful face shining with purpose. Red Claw had no doubt in her ability. Darous was another issue altogether. Bringing the willow rod up to his face, Red Claw inclined his head toward the firewhit. “You cannot allow yourself to be distracted. A failed attempt could be of more danger to Tir na n-Og than the sorcerer himself.”
Chapter Ten
Eristta was none too happy to hear Red Claw’s proclamation, but after absorbing his instructions, she was confident that both she and Darous were competent enough to avoid repercussions.
“We will stay in this triangulated area.” The shaman motioned to Darous. “You will carry the west point.” He paused, his mahogany gaze dark with concern.
Eristta wasn’t surprised to find that working with Red Claw was as natural as breathing. The tension that once existed between them had been transformed. While her desire was just as great, she no longer feared their bond an irrational desire. She wasn’t certain what their relationship would be, but she believed they now had an opportunity to unravel it.
Goddess willing.
“Eristta, you will be in the east,” Red Claw finished.
“And you will be our spearhead,” Eristta commented, her flesh tingling from his look alone.
Red Claw nodded, braids slipping forward to frame his strong jaw. “I will open the largest portal to a place on Earth that holds great power.”
“Will the inhabitants there understand?” Eristta asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
Shaking his head, Red Claw stood. Eristta joined him as Darous flitted impatiently around the clearing, his claw—nearly as long as he—clutched tightly to his chest. “What does it matter? It is their world we work to save as well!”
The shaman flashed a ghost of a smile, and Eristta realized how tortured her existence would be if she were never to see that smile again. Never run her fingers across his strong cheekbones or caress his welcoming lips.
“There should not be any observers in the area.” Under his breath Eristta heard: “Great Spirit let there be none.”
Eristta drew her kriss, her blood pumping fierce and low in anticipation. “It is time.”
Darous shot straight up at her words, becoming an incandescent spiraling ball of pure energy. “Goddess speed!” he called. “May Dietramon’s words burn with truth this night!”
They watched until his fiery trail disappeared. “He will do well,” Eristta said, wanting Red Claw to understand that despite the firewhit’s idiosyncrasies, he was steadfast.
“I know.” Another smile, this one laced with tension.
Eristta’s heart ached, and she could not stop herself. She threw herself into his arms and pressed her lips against his. The warmth of their mingled breath brought fresh need—and fear—coursing through her. “We are not done, shaman. I do not know why or how, but you have infected me with a need so desperate I cannot deny it.”
His arms crushed her to his chest as his mouth captured hers in a soul-searing kiss. As quickly as they connected, Red Claw lifted Eristta away and placed her on her feet, his breathing ragged. “Go, wastelakapi.” His gaze smoldered as it grazed her from head to foot. “I will remember this moment.” He reached out and touched the tip of his finger to her lips. “Your touch.” He drew his finger down to her breast. “Your heart.”
“Red Claw,” Eristta whispered, understanding the dire nature of their task, and not wanting to leave things unsettled between them.
He held up a hand. “We will have our time. Do not doubt it, wastelakapi.”
Despite her rationale that told her it mightn’t be true, Eristta wanted to believe Red Claw. The man was no normal human. He possessed insight that few elfin elders could match. With one hand, Eristta caressed the side of his face, relishing the feel of the strong bones beneath his skin. “I will hold you to your word, shaman.”
He placed his hand over hers. “I would expect nothing less from you, Eristta.”
A sharp crack shattered the moment. Both knelt—Eristta with her kriss at the ready, Red Claw with his long blade. Trees snapped as three half-grown carrion birds stumbled into the clearing.
“The hatchlings!” Eristta hissed, hardly believing her eyes. They were minus one brother. Without hesitation, she put her kriss away, stood, and mind-spoke to the panicked hatchlings. Calm yourselves, younglings. We seek not to harm you. Why do you run?
Pictures and emotions flooded her. Far. Travel. Food. Hunger! Warmth. Game. Death…
An image of their brother falling under blades and ripping claws exploded in her mind and Eristta pulled her awareness back.
The birds hopped from foot-to-foot on their torso-thick legs, heads bobbing in agitation. Eristta turned to Red Claw. “I’ve encountered these three before. They are showing me what they consider a dead forest. They then traveled west. For a time there was game, then again, no food. They came upon the golems and were hunted. Their brother was killed.” Eristta fought a shiver. “We must hurry.”
Turning back to the hatchlings, Eristta sent them a quick image of safety and food to the south. “Keep going, brave ones,” she whispered to their retreating backs. “If we’re successful, you can some day come back to lands rich in game.”
Red Claw gripped Eristta’s arm, his fingers deep brown against her dusky skin. “Be safe, wastelakapi.”
“I will, shaman,” Eristta said with a smile. She kissed him again, needing to feel his lips. Taste them. Breaking contact, she turned and ran, heading into the cream-pale rays of a rising sun.
* * * * *
“You’ve not heard from either of them yet?”
Serosen lowered his sword. With his breath coming fast and sweat streaming down the sides of his face, he faced his wife. His gaze traveled to the gentle swell of her abdomen, and his heart warmed. Slipping the sword into the scabbard at his side, he moved close and placed a hand there. He closed his eyes and reached with his danu awen.
There.
Their child responded to his gentle probe, and Serosen smiled, joy filling his entire being. But even the promise of a new life couldn’t dispel the shadow of uncertainty that hung over their every moment like a funereal pall. “No. There is no word. And you?”
Their gazes met—azure blue to steel gray—and Selena shook her head, her waist-long fiery tresses swishing around full hips. Serosen lifted a hand to her hair, running his fingers through the silken strands. “It grows even faster now.”
Selena huffed and pushed the heavy curtain of hair away from her face. “Yes. It’s as if with each inch your daughter grows my hair grows four.”
Serosen grinned and pulled his wife into his arms, knowing she would not care that he’d been hacking out his frustration on the practice field for over an hour. He kissed the top of her head and sighed. “I can detect their presence, but naught else except for the fact that they are in the Summer Kingdome.”
She hugged his arms tightly. “Two more days, Serosen, and we will be there.”
“Two more days will be too late, wife, if the faeries have not agreed to aid us.”
“No!” Serosen took her shoulders, spinning her to face him. “It is too dangerous for you to transform while with child. Even the Phoenix is in agreement in this.”
Selena’s hands went to her hips. “She did not say it was impossible! Only—”
“A risk,” Serosen finished for her, his gaze iron-hard. “One we will not, must not take, Selena.” He pulled his wife back into his arms. “We will find another way.”
He felt her relax into him, the tension in her body melding with his as their energies combined. “Ser…there has to be something we can do. Someone who can help us.”
Serosen’s gaze fixed on the mountains to the east where the sun had just made its appearance, casting pale yellow light on the ragtag army of elves, pixies, centaurs and other creatures of Tir na n-Og. All ready to fight. All ready to die in defense of their land and people.
“I believe there is, mi’awen,” Serosen murmured. “I just do not know who or what—yet. Or if they will choose to help.” He looked at his wife, seeing his own uncertainty reflected in her deep blue gaze. “There is strange magick underfoot.”
Selena nodded, her eyes narrowing. “Yes. I have felt it for the past few days. And the Phoenix is quiet. Unnaturally so.”
The couple exchanged worried glances before separating and gazing out over the modest tide of warriors. They were to meet with King Ballodoff’s forces in a day, and then those of the Autumn Kingdome not long after before marching as a combined force to Tee’amon to intercept the golems.
“We’ve little chance without Ferra’leen,” Selena said quietly, as if speaking to something or someone within earshot. “If there are others who can help, they’d better be working on a plan right now.”
Serosen placed his arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her in. “We will hear from Red Claw. I am certain.”
With her eyes glowing iridescent blue, Selena nodded. “It’s what we will hear, that worries me.”
* * * * *
Transformed, Red Claw and Mato sped through the dense forest, heading for the furthest point at the head of the triangle. There, he would open the largest doorway. A portal to his homeland where the magick of Earth flowed strong. A gateway sure to attract Garethan’s mages’ attention, as well as the sorcerer himself.
Red Claw traveled often enough between worlds in the past to know how to maintain a stable doorway for a short period of time, but the pendants were not of his design, and even Mato could, or would not, tell him their origin and full power.
They have served you well, brother, came Mato’s inner rumble. Red Claw swung his massive head to take in their surroundings and grunted his agreement. That still didn’t relieve his concern, for his homeland and for Eristta.
Stay focused.
Bushes slipped by. Silence stretched before and behind as his paws pounded the fertile soil. Would Darous and Eristta be able to control their portals long enough to draw Garethan’s entire force? Grunting, Mato reassured his spirit brother. They will complete their tasks, as we should be focusing on ours.
Red Claw merged his awareness with that of the great bear, allowing his spirit guide to take the lead. His emotions were a liability they could ill afford. His concern extended also to his hunt brother and pregnant wife. There had been no time to warn Serosen or Selena. And even if there had been, the risk of their plan being intercepted was too great. He could only pray that they were on the march and ready to fight the golem forces at Tee’amon.
We have arrived.
Red Claw shook from his massive head to his haunches, scattering bits of dew and pollen before using their combined senses to probe the surrounding area.
Nothing. No creatures. No birds or magickal denizens. Even the tree sprites had abandoned their charges, something so rarely seen, Red Claw knew dire tidings had preceded his arrival.
Transforming, the shaman rose from a crouch, untied the leather thong from around his neck and removed a single claw. He retied the thong and let the claws that were left settle against his chest. There were only four now. On some occasions, opening a doorway reduced the pendant to ash, on others, the claw survived unblemished. Red Claw could never determine why it worked as it did.
He gripped the largest claw of the original sixteen, already feeling the pendant’s core energy building in anticipation. It knew what Red Claw wanted…desired. After sprinkling an offering of tobacco to the four corners, North, West, East and South, Red Claw mapped out the size and location of the doorway in his mind, transferring that information to the pendant in his hand.
With bars of fractured light illuminating his face from the canopy above, Red Claw raised the claw and began to chant. The energy built in the soles of his feet, pulling its power from the land on which he stood. The pendant somehow recognized its sister world, and through his focused desire and intent, was able to bridge the gap between them.
Red Claw allowed the pendant to use him. The electric energies traveled through his blood and bones like a fast-moving pathogen, exiting through his hand and into the claw. Moaning, Red Claw opened his eyes as the powerful force funneled through the pendant and exploded into the air in front of him. A ball of light coalesced, hovering in the air—then grew.
He continued to feed it, asking it to expand. Large enough for a herd of centaurs to pass through, then a contingent of trolls or small conclave of giants. As it grew, Red Claw felt his energy wane, but as Mato added his own supernatural force, the doorway spread, absorbing the tree line on both sides. The edges of his vision blurred, as did the misty fingers of the portal.
Hold it, brother, came Mato’s gentle encouragement, and Red Claw narrowed his intent. Within moments, the center of the doorway cleared, and he viewed his homeland with physical eyes for the first time in over one hundred and fifty years.
Green…spacious…mystical.
The scents of pine and cedar wafted through the portal, and Red Claw’s heart contracted with joy at the memory of such things. The sky was painfully blue, and he looked up, remembering the intensity of that sun, the change of seasons, the simple, spiritual life of his people.
But things were different now. Much time had passed.
“Very impressive.”
Red Claw’s head whipped to the side, and what he saw froze his heart.
Garethan.
The sorcerer stood only feet away, his face serene, his robes shifting in rivers of red from the summer breeze wafting through the portal. Red Claw tried to draw his power back and close the doorway without collapsing it.
He could not.
Despite his efforts to break his connection with the portal, it remained open, his own energy maintaining the link between Tir na n-Og and Earth.
Mato! Why can I not sever the connection?
Bear and man shook under the strain, while maintaining a calm outward appearance. He has somehow bound our energies with that of the doorway. Red Claw felt Mato shift within him, feeding him more spiritual strength. I will support our energy. Try and find a wedge in his spell.
Red Claw refocused on the sorcerer. “Your arrival is untimely, Garethan.”
Garethan smiled, his ordinary face beaming with seeming goodwill. “Shaman, you have all underestimated me. I would think Anelees would have kept you better informed.” He sighed and shifted his hands to his hips. His gaze cut to the doorway. “I knew there had to be a way to bridge the worlds without using the ancient doorways. They have become so…unstable.”
As the sorcerer spoke, Red Claw reached with his senses, searching for the root of the magick that bound him to the doorway. Pain—heat seared his temples and it took Mato’s quick redirection of energy to keep the shaman upright. He drew a deep breath and straightened.
Smirking, Garethan lifted a finger. “Ah, ah. Keep your danu awen to yourself, shaman.”
As if dismissing him, the sorcerer turned
his attention back to the portal and stepped closer.
Mato! We cannot let him breech the doorway!
The great bear growled. I know, brother. I am searching…
“It is beautiful. I’ve only seen it in visions.” He turned his gaze toward Red Claw. “And of course, in a time far from man’s mind. But things were different then.” He reached out with a hand, brushing the outside of the portal. Crimson sparks arced, and Red Claw felt a palpable wave of cold ripple through the doorway and into him. “The worlds were one, then. Their energy inseparable.”
“Your evil is what destroyed that connection,” Red Claw murmured, ignoring the pain in his limbs, the knife in his chest.
“Yes.” Garethan’s head cocked to one side. “Actually, Anelees saw to that.” He stepped forward again, the toes of his leather boots a fraction from crossing over.
Crimson boiled behind the sorcerer’s dark eyes and his face glowed. “But I’ve been thinking…perhaps it is time to rejoin them.”
Mato…can he do it? Can he rebind the worlds?
Red Claw reached for Mato’s presence and met silence—emptiness.
Mato!
Panic seized him. He knew the great bear would not abandon him. Great Spirit let him be working on a solution. Calling for help.
Eristta’s ethereal face materialized within Red Claw’s mind. He could not reach for her to give warning. Best not to think of her at all.
“You do me a disservice.”
The shaman’s attention snapped back to Garethan. With his face bathed in the golden light from Earth’s sun, the sorcerer sighed. “I do not need to read your mind to know of your fear for her.” His gaze shifted. “Your love for her.”
Trepidation lanced Red Claw’s heart. “Do not speak of her.”
Garethan chuckled as he twisted his hand within the misty borders of the doorway. “I have watched the Night Elf. Observed her growth, her passion.”
Night Elves 2: Dangerous Obsession Page 9