by Lisa Ladew
He kept walking, heading to the break room, where he could tell most of the rest of the KSRT was, except for Wade and Graeme, who were at the receiving desk.
He stopped outside the door and leaned against the wall, bracing himself for the hundreds of questions that would be fired at him as soon as he walked in. He hated being the center of attention. From in the room, he heard no talking, no anything, except a strange crunching sound.
Inside, Beckett spoke, his voice harsh. “If he never comes back because he’s dead, Mac, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
The crunching stopped. “Give me a fucking break. I did what he asked.”
“You could have killed him. You might have killed him!”
The whole situation felt surreal to Crew, like he was a ghost at his own funeral, and still he couldn’t bring himself to go in.
Mac grunted and the crunching started again. His voice was soft but still Crew could understand him, even around the cereal he was crunching.
“If I wanted your opinion, I’d remove the duct tape.”
Crew realized the anniversary of when Khain killed the shiften females was coming up. Mac always got irritable─more irritable─in this world for a month before and a month after that.
Beckett rose to the bait. “Fuck you, fucker. I mean it, Mac, if Crew doesn’t come back, you and me are gonna have more than words.”
From down the hall, Graeme turned a corner and came towards Crew. Graeme lifted a hand in greeting when he saw Crew and his eyes asked the question Crew didn’t want to answer. Crew shook his head.
A female spoke up and Crew didn’t recognize the voice at first, but since Ella was down the hall, it had to be Heather, Graeme’s mate. “Maybe it’s all that sugar making you grouchy. That’s your fourth bowl of cereal.”
Graeme stopped in front of Crew and shook his hand, about to speak. From inside, Mac spoke instead, his words erasing Graeme’s ability to speak. “Ah. Sister Smokin’ speaks. Were you a nutritionist before you officially donned the title Hotpants Heather?”
Graeme’s face turned murderous and he rushed into the room. Crew dropped his head into his hands. Why did Mac even open his mouth in this world?
A scuffle sounded, with a chair being scooted across the room. Heather cried out, “No, Graeme, he didn’t mean it!” and a chorus of male shouts overlapped each other. The only thing Crew could understand was, “That’s just Mac, don’t kill him. We might need him.”
Graeme’s voice was tight. “Don’t say things you’ll regret just because you missed the rut tonight, Mac. You went too far.”
Mac’s voice came out as little more than a squeak. “Easy to say when you’re balls deep every night.”
Graeme roared and Crew rushed in the room, running to get between Mac and the dragon, peeling Graeme’s fingers off Mac’s throat.
“Crew!” Beckett called, relief in his voice. Troy barked once, sharply.
Mac rubbed his throat and glared at Graeme, who backed away and put an arm around his female. She smiled up at him like he’d lit the sun.
Crew put a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said, sincerely.
“I’ll knock you out anytime, flyboy. Did it work?”
Crew stared back, talking to only him. “It did, but she wasn’t there.”
“You were looking for your female?”
“Yeah.” Crew nodded, trying to think of what to do now.
Wade entered the room, his weary eyes surveying everyone standing there in a loose knot. His gaze settled on Crew. “Explain,” he said.
“I met my female yesterday, in the other world I travel to. When she disappeared, I thought she might be there. She wasn’t.”
Wade nodded once, tightly. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Crew felt for his pill. Still there. “I still have a chance to find her. It might have something to do with that little girl, Paisley White.”
Wade’s face smoothed out. “Good. We were going to ask you to go see her. She’s in the hospital with no signs of injury whatsoever, but the doctors can’t get her to wake up. They say her brainwaves are active, like she’s dreaming, but she lays there like she’s comatose. Her mother is out of her mind with worry. I’ve consulted with nearby Citlali and we all think you have the best chance of waking her.” He gave Crew a sharp look. “You’ve dealt with it before, haven’t you?”
Crew didn’t answer.
***
At the hospital, Wade made most of the males wait at the end of the hallway, while he and Crew went toward the little girl’s room on their own.
Wade pushed the door open and motioned Crew inside. There were several people in the room, but the only one Crew could focus on was Paisley White, eyes closed, long dark hair fanning the pillow case like someone had been lovingly combing it out with their fingers. Her essence was strong, deafeningly so, like small children often were, but there was more to it. Crew frowned as he walked toward the bed, his eyes on her delicate face. Wade went past him and talked to the family, keeping between them and Crew.
Crew probed her mind gently, but instead of the fishhook that had been embedded in his brain, he found a sort of blanket, laid over her senses to keep her asleep and pliant while Khain lured both Dahlia and Crew together.
Gently, Crew lifted the edges of the blanket, and when Paisley didn’t flinch, he tugged, pulling the entire thing off of her, taking it into himself. He staggered under its weight, so soon after his recent ordeals, but managed to stay upright. Paisley’s eyes opened and looked right at him.
He tried to smile soothingly at her, but it felt strange on his face. She smiled brightly, seemingly untouched by what she had gone through, locked eyes with him and spoke in the most innocent voice he’d ever heard. “Nana says your echo will direct you how to get to where you want to go. Fix your choice clear in your mind, and ask.” Crew’s eyes widened at the sophisticated speech coming from the young girl.
“She’s awake!” a female voice cried and the family almost knocked Wade over to get to her. Crew got only a glimpse of a pretty young woman, the mother, before she gathered Paisley into her arms, sobbing quietly.
Crew backed away, feeling weak as a baby foal trying to find its feet for the first time. The scent of mink entered his nostrils and he looked up sharply. Mrs. White was there, smiling at him. “You found her. I knew you would,” she whispered sharply. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.” Crew tried to nod, but felt his body sway. She touched him on the arm, concerned, and, at her touch, the demon’s blanket evaporated from his soul and his strength came flooding back.
He nodded. “Good wishes to your family,” he whispered, then rushed out of the room.
His echo. He had to find his echo. He didn’t care if it took weeks, months, he would do it. He had no idea where to look, but he would start with Trent. Trent had an echo and maybe he would have some insight─
Beckett stepped in front of him, stopping his forward momentum through the hallway as Wade ran up from behind. “Crew, I called your name a dozen times.”
Crew looked around, barely able to concentrate on any of them. He had his mission and could think of nothing else.
Beckett grabbed him by the arms and shook him. “Crew, let us help you.”
“Gotta find my echo,” Crew muttered. “I must have one.”
Beck’s face broke into a smile. “You shoulda said something, dude. I know where your echo is.”
Chapter 24
Dahlia held up her arms while her lady in waiting cinched her corset, then turned her around to finish pulling on her heavy dress. At first she’d been thrilled to try the period clothing, but when she discovered the corsets were tight and the dresses scratchy and heavy, the feeling had faded. They did make her breasts pop, though. She looked down at her usually non-existent cleavage and wondered what Crew would think if he saw her in the outfit.
She stared at the fire in the fireplace of the room she’d been given and wondered if he was still looking for
her. She also wondered how much time had passed in the world she’d died in. If twenty years had passed here, while only fourteen days passed there, that was what, a minute or two for every day here? She swallowed hard, realizing he hadn’t even started yet, maybe was still in that field where she died. She could be here for weeks over there before he found her, maybe as long as a year?
She remembered what Angel had said just before she’d stepped through the doorway. That he would hold the times between the worlds consistent, and that brought her some small measure of relief, although she couldn’t know exactly what it meant.
The king, who’s name she’d discovered was Caius, had become cold when she’d said she wanted to join the quest that was to start the next day, to at least be given a chance to compete to win the pendant. He’d sent her away almost immediately, saying he needed to ponder her request and what her showing up meant to the kingdom.
She’d been shown to this room, which was rather nice for being in a drafty castle built from stones, and given the finest food and drink the king had to offer. She’d tried to nap in her bed filled with actual feathers and covered with coarse blankets, desperate to discover where she would go in her sleep, but hadn’t been able to. Now it was time for dinner.
Satisfied, her lady in waiting tried to slip simple leather booties on her feet but Dahlia refused. The dress was so long, no one would see her tennies.
Once dressed and perfumed to someone else’s satisfaction, Dahlia was led back to the great hall, where she was given the seat directly next to the king. Dinner was a grand affair, and she could tell King Caius was well-loved, which gave her hope that he was a fair man who could be swayed into what she needed.
When dessert was brought out, she scooched her chair a bit closer to him. “Have you considered my request?” she asked.
His wise eyes regarded her. “I cannot, my lady. You see, women are not allowed to undertake quests. It is far too dangerous, what with them being generally smaller, weaker, and less clever than men.”
Dahlia watched him carefully, noting the way his eyes shifted when he said the last part. WWWWD? “Tell me about when you met my sister,” she finally said, letting the remark go for now.
His face broke into a tired smile. “It was twenty years ago, almost to the day. The king at that time was an evil man and he raped the countryside for taxes daily, or maybe just for fun.” Caius’ lips twisted at the memory. “I was a young boy, highly impressionable, and your sister and her dragon saved me and my family from King Dilmer’s worst soldiers. I’ll always remember how she looked when she told them Graeme the fierce and hungry was displeased with the way King Dilmer ran his kingdom.”
Dahlia frowned. Twenty years ago? Dragon?
“I’ll never forget what your sister did, speaking so boldly to the soldiers, then giving me everything she had in her pockets. We were a poor family, but the amulet changed everything for us.” His eyes took on a far-away look and he gazed over the heads of everyone at the table, seeing that time in the past. “The king was backed by the therianthrope, which made him unbeatable and unseatable. But when the amulet allowed me to─”
Dahlia interrupted him. “Therianthrope?”
“The shapeshifters. Men who can change into any animal they desire, although they most often chose wolves, or lions, or bears, because they love to slay people in vicious manners. They were the king’s hired assassins, and if the soldiers weren’t scary or bloodthirsty enough for everyday matters, the king would call out the therianthrope. The soldiers never went against his wishes because the rumor was that he was a secret therianthrope.”
Dahlia shuddered. Did every world have werewolves?
“One day, after that time with your sister, I was in the field working with the amulet around my neck, under my tunic. My mother gave the amulet to me to wear because I was too young to be in the fields alone, but I had to work and my father had to travel that day. She hoped it would protect me, hoped it would call the Dragon Lady to me if I encountered danger. That day, a therianthrope sauntered through my field in wolf form, one of my chickens in its mouth. I yelled at it before I thought better of my actions, and it dropped the chicken and changed into a bear, then a man, then a big cat, bigger even than a lion, then back into a wolf, and advanced on me. I grabbed hold of the amulet, certain I was about to be killed, and prayed for the Dragon Lady to save me. When nothing happened, I opened my eyes. The wolf in front of me had stopped coming my way, and its eyes had lost all of its cunning, like it no longer had the ability to think or reason in its animal form. It sniffed at the chicken, eyed me, then snatched up its prize and ran away in the direction it had come from. I went home and told my mother and she and my father talked about it long into the night, finally deciding to tell no one. But the next day, an entire force of therianthrope, with a contingent of the king’s guards following behind, came to our plot.”
The king’s face grew grave. “I almost lost my entire family that day, but, in the end, the amulet saved us again. As my little sisters hid behind me, the wolves jumped for the throats of my parents. I held the amulet and prayed for all the therianthrope to lose their shifting ability like the one had the day before, not knowing if I could do any more than that. The amulet glowed with power, heating my hand, and the wolves stopped mid-stride, then ran off in confusion like the other had.” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “The guards declared me the new king. I hadn’t known that they’d been planning an overthrow ever since King Dilmer had laughed at his Field Marshall who had gone to him with the Dragon Lady’s─Heather’s─warning.”
King Caius beamed at Dahlia. “I was no more than a boy, and I do believe King Dilmer’s Field Marshall planned on molding me into a lord who would do his bidding, but my father and mother had other plans. The amulet has always helped when I have asked it to, but I take care to only ask in the gravest of times. I can feel that it is not mine, and if I were to abuse it, it would go dead in my hands, maybe even hurt me. That is why I have not asked it to help with Libeka the Protector. It is clear that is not what it is for.”
Dahlia shivered at the power of the pendant, trying to work it all out in her mind. How did Heather get her pendant; the one her mother had disappeared holding so many years ago? Or did Heather have her own pendant, and that was the one encased in that clay block? Would that mean Heather really was her sister? Angel had said she had thousands, but every time she tried to work that math out in her head, her eyes glazed over. Maybe Angel had meant metaphorical sisters.
Dahlia’s thoughts clouded as a memory slipped through her, a memory she couldn’t be sure was entirely factual, since she’d been so young.
Her mother, cradling her in a hammock as they stared at the boughs of a tree overhead and listened to the buzz of the cicadas in the grass during a hot summer afternoon. “I’m sorry your father’s not here with us, Dahl, but you need to know he has a very good reason and he is a very good…” She’d paused for a long time before she finished the sentence, but finally did: “a very good man.”
“Where is he, mama?”
“He’s working, saving the world, probably, or trying. I didn’t know him as well as I had hoped, but I knew enough to know that he was strong and powerful and wanted you very much. Just like I know you’re going to go on and do great things.”
The memory stopped there, leaving an ache in her heart. Dahlia wondered why she’d never asked Angel who her father was. Angel had mentioned him, saying he’d given her and her sisters internal and external tools to protect themselves, which made more sense now.
King Caius was watching her, his face guarded. Dahlia pulled herself together. “What exactly is the quest?”
“It is to retrieve the egg of Libeka the Protector, the basilisk that lives nearby and protects us from the wolves of the forest. The therianthrope were all turned to wolves who could not shift or think, but their children thrive, when they can get enough food, and it’s us they most like to chew on.”
“Bas
ilisk?”
“Like a great lizard twice the size of a moose with eight legs and spikes down its back, a natural enemy to the wolves. If a wolf comes into its territory, the basilisk rouses from its cave and kills the wolf or chases it off. It does not harm us intentionally, especially since we take it daily offerings of sweet meats, fruits, and water from the stream, and so we only live within the boundaries of its territory.”
“Why would you want its egg? Don’t you want more of them?”
Caius sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “The egg is petrified, or must be, because it has not hatched in seven years. Libeka grows old and slow, and if she does not have young before she dies, we will once again find our dogs, any children that wander off, and even groups with not enough weapons, picked off by wolves. If we steal her egg, she will lay another and if it hatches, it will take over her home and protect us. Our small kingdom will be safe from the wolves as long as it lives.”
“Why don’t you send in your guards?”
“It’s not that simple. Basilisk are deadly to humans. If we look her in her eyes, we will die. Even their smell and their hovels are deadly. My soldiers can plug their noses, but they cannot make it to the egg without touching the ground, and her venom permeates their very shoes or any wood they are touching. I’ve lost many a soldier to this, so I’ve called together all of the cleverest minds in the land to try to figure out a way that we could not see.”
Dahlia narrowed her eyes. “That sounds like something the amulet should be used for.”
He challenged her. “And yet, I cannot. I have come to understand the amulet and its energies over the years. It will not do this for me.”
Dahlia looked around the table, trying to imagine any of these people going up against a basilisk. It sounded impossible.
“Will you still be king if someone else gets the amulet?” she asked, when her attention made it back to King Caius.