Storm Crossed

by Dani Harper

  Trahern?

  By all the stars, it was her. Though the sound of Lissy’s voice might be mimicked, there was no mistaking the feel of her voice in his mind. Pleasure, happiness, even joy had accompanied it at other times, in other places. Here, however, every word sank his heart and his hopes like stones in a well. Trahern, I’m sorry. They knocked us out of the sky just before we got to the Great Way. I think—I think they left Cadell where he fell.

  Step back from the edge at once! You are far too close.

  I can’t. There’s some kind of spell on my foot. It won’t—

  A long, low, throaty laugh drew his attention to the charred dais at the opposite end of the battered dome, where Eirianwen was once again seated in the great chair. Having shed the woodwight form, the matriarch was radiant and smiling, every inch the Shining One, as regally clad as if she sat the Glass Throne already. A glamour, no doubt—he knew she was injured, and badly. In the heartbeat it took to recalculate his plan, however, eight men in claret robes coalesced behind her. His mother’s camarilla had arrived—

  Turning her defeat into triumph.

  “So close,” she mocked. “So very close. I do concede that you have become a veritable master of magicks, dear Trahern, and a potentially valuable resource. However, I cannot permit you to oppose me further. I will reclaim the throne with your help or, at the very least, without your interference.” A gleaming artifact appeared in the air a few feet to his left. A half mask of copper, cleverly inset with stones and symbols. “If you fight me, this mortal woman will die, and you with her. Put on the mask, and she will live. As will you.”

  Don’t do it! Lissy’s voice was loud in his head. That’s the thing I dreamed about. It controls your mind!

  I know what it does. He’d seen the mask used far too many times. The moment he pressed it to his face, he would be gaethiwyd. Enslaved. And worse than the prospect of allying himself with his mother in her quest to overthrow the queen was the certainty that she would know everything that he knew. Those who wore the mask could keep no secrets from her.

  Fox would be revealed and taken. So would Braith. And Lissy would be killed outright or, worse, tortured to keep her son in line.

  “Not to your taste? Perhaps I can find something that suits you better,” said Eirianwen. To his right appeared a broad silver collar of many links that together were stronger than iron. Braith bore one exactly like it. “Choose, Trahern. A mindless slave in your present form or a voiceless grim like your brother? Two legs or four? The mask or the collar?”

  “I will make my choice,” he said. “After the woman is returned to her world, unharmed, for Lord Lurien to do with her as he pleases.” A moment later he added, almost conversationally, “If you truly wish to take the throne, it would seem prudent not to spar with the Lord of the Wild Hunt who defends it.”

  Don’t you do this! Don’t give in to her!

  He didn’t answer Lissy. Trahern had no illusions about escaping, but he could sell himself as dearly as possible to secure her safety and the safety of her child.

  “It is unlike you to give in so easily.” His mother sounded suspicious. Apparently, he’d struck a little fear into the matriarch of the House of Oak. He would have that much satisfaction at least.

  “I do not yield. I offer an adduned gwaed—a blood pledge,” he said, “that I will make my choice peacefully. But I would have your own pledge in return. Blood for blood.”

  “You forget to whom you speak!”

  Ignoring her, he continued. “On your life, the woman will be returned to her world, unharmed and unbound in any way. Subject to the will of Lurien only, she will otherwise be free to go where she will, unwatched and untouched by fae or by spell, and she will be left in peace, as will all her family and friends, her children and her children’s children, so long as the House of Oak shall stand.”

  Eirianwen stood slowly—and shakily. The glamour might hide her wounds, but it couldn’t completely disguise her weakness. Raw fury contorted her features, and her voice was low and dangerous, but still he detected a faint tremble beneath it. “Who do you think you are to dictate such terms to me?”

  “I am my mother’s son, and therefore not a fool. Were I to place you on the throne with my own hands, eventually you would kill me or offer me the same choice that is before me now.” He felt the truth of that in his very bones. “Nor will this mortal be safe after I meet my fate unless something constrains you. I gave my word to the Lord of the Wild Hunt. I will keep it, and my honor, before I give up my freedom. Else, we will end this now.”

  “You would not prevail.”

  “Perhaps not, but you would lose considerable assets.” He nodded at her camarilla. At full strength, he was far more powerful than he had been when the sorcerers had acted together to transform Braith. Now he was nearly spent and couldn’t hope to eliminate more than half their number. Those who remained would act in concert to kill him. Or, far more likely, his mother would draw on their energy so she could destroy him personally.

  She sank back in the great oaken chair, tapping the gilded branch on her arm as she considered. “As things stand between us, it would seem an accord cannot be reached. Therefore, things will simply have to change.”

  The sudden blast of power from the dais could barely be seen, save as an odd rippling of air that skimmed along the stone even as it stretched to twice Trahern’s height. It could surely be felt, however, its rumbling dynamism shaking the entire Hall, plowing aside heavy branches and rubble in an arrow-straight line as it surged toward Lissy. Instinctively, Trahern flicked out his light whip, trying to snatch her from the magic’s path, but it was much too far and far too late—

  But Lissy wasn’t swept over the edge. In fact, the invisible torrent of magic had somehow vanished before it even reached her. Had the spell failed? Had someone called it back? Trahern sensed no backlash of residual energy. It was simply gone.

  “What have you done!” Eirianwen screamed, then threw the golden branch at one of her camarilla. “What has happened?” she demanded of them all.

  Trahern didn’t care. He was already focused on one of his last ledrith. A string of words that ran diagonally across his right thigh, it wasn’t a weapon but a tool—and not precisely the right tool for this situation. Still, it was all he had to work with, and he placed his hand over it. “Taith ddiogel,” he said, looking down into the chasm that separated him from Lissy. Safe passage. Save for a fleeting shimmer, as if a dust mote had caught the light for a scant instant, the yawning crevasse appeared exactly the same. Had it worked?

  Without waiting to find out, Trahern leapt.

  When the floor stopped shaking—and she did, too—Lissy rose from her crouch and gingerly tested her foot yet again, leaning as far from the frightening chasm as she could. As before, the only thing she managed to dislodge was a handful of shattered stones and gravel, which tumbled over the edge into silence. Whatever spell was tethering her wasn’t budging. She looked over, expecting to see Trahern on the other side, when a sudden hand on her back made her jump.

  Are you well?

  “Thought I told you not to come here,” she managed.

  “You are not the boss of me.”

  The silly quip—no doubt learned from Fox—helped her steer clear of the tsunami of emotions threatening to swamp her. She’d been ready to throw her arms around his neck, burst into tears, yell at him for offering his life in her place, and kiss him into next week. And thankfully succeeded in doing none of it. Revealing their relationship to Eirianwen would likely be an immediate death sentence. In fact, Lissy had been certain she was dead when that huge and powerful force had shoved through the debris like an invisible train bent on running her down. Thanks for saving me. I think that one would have hurt.

  I am not the one who stopped it. He was already examining her foot, and suddenly she was free. Trahern grabbed her hand, yanked her away from the crumbling edge—and paused to stare at the floor.

  What’s wrong? Why a
ren’t we running? Following his gaze, she both saw and felt a strange current of air hugging the broken stone, flowing around her ankles. Arctic cold and desert hot, almost tangible like water, yet only partially visible like smoke . . . Like a ghostly mountain stream, it swirled into small vortices of dust and ash, then hurried on around and beneath their feet. More currents appeared from all directions, each one tumbling and rolling to a single point, the spot where the onrushing spell had vanished.

  Someone draws power, said Trahern, turning to study the strange phenomenon.

  So maybe Eirianwen and her psychos were sucking up energy for another terrifying display. Even her inner scientist, who normally would be fascinated, knew that getting away was paramount right now. “Come on, we don’t have time for—”

  There.

  Something strummed along her senses as if a tripwire had been triggered, and Lissy found herself listening with her entire being. Amid all that was going on, she shouldn’t have heard a single thing. But she did. A voice. A small voice . . .

  Her mind exploded into a cacophony of frantic prayers, curses, and denials, but a shadow wavered in front of them nonetheless. Faint and formless at first, then rapidly gaining substance until fully tangible.

  Fox!

  In the space of a breath she couldn’t manage to take, her brain processed the sight of her son standing motionless, dressed in Scooby-Doo pajamas that had seen better days. His slight figure faced away from her, toward the dais where Eirianwen continued to rail at her sorcerers. Soft blond hair that he still would never let her comb waved upward from his head as if drawn by static. One small hand was knotted tight in Braith’s blue-gray fur. The other hand pulled frantically, rhythmically, at the hem of his shirt. Stimming, she realized. How Fox got here or why wasn’t important right now—what mattered was getting him out of sight before Eirianwen reacted to his presence. And Fox was obviously overwhelmed and heading for a major meltdown.

  Lissy charged toward her child, but Trahern intercepted her. “Let me go, dammit! What’s the matter with you? Can’t you see he’s in trouble? Lemme go!” He was holding her so tightly that she couldn’t get her arms free to hit him. Frantic now, she kicked with everything she had and even bit him, but the tall fae didn’t release her.

  LISTEN TO ME! His voice was suddenly not just loud in her head but forceful enough to push everything else out. It was Fox who stopped the spell that would have killed you. He absorbed all its energy. And Fox is the one who is now drawing power from earth and air and everything in Oaken territory.

  “And you can give him a fucking gold star later! Look at him! He’s just a little boy, and he can’t do it! It’s hurting him! Let me go, damn you!”

  If he stops now, we will die, and he will be in Eirianwen’s hands. Do you understand? Eirianwen will do whatever she pleases to Fox, make him into whatever she wants him to be. And there will be no one to save him.

  Trahern’s words were a hard, cold slap to her senses, and she ceased to struggle. The horror of such a future for her son nearly made her throw up. A quick glance confirmed that the cruel matriarch was already wildly gesticulating at Fox and Braith as she raged at her followers. Dear God, what had gone through Eirianwen’s mind when they’d appeared out of nowhere? Had she already guessed what Fox could do, the abilities he had? “We can’t let her, Trahern. We can’t let her have him.” She squeezed her eyes tight for a moment, willing back the tears. “But how are we going to stop her?”

  Perhaps Fox himself has an idea, he continued in a gentler tone as he released her. Let me try to help him. Please.

  She let him go, watching as he approached her son and knelt beside him, careful to leave enough space between them so her sensitive child wouldn’t feel crowded or confronted. Fox looked small, almost frail, between the powerful fae and the giant grim. Strangely, she couldn’t hear Trahern’s thoughts—perhaps he was concentrating. And it was impossible to hear whatever he said to her son. She could only make out that he spoke slowly and carefully. Maybe he’d put up that sensory-deprivation bubble thingy that proved so helpful to Fox before, but she couldn’t tell.

  Instead, Lissy kept a wary eye on Eirianwen. The matriarch appeared calmer—no doubt because one of her accomplices now lay deathly still on the stone floor below the platform. And she wasn’t staring at Fox anymore, either. Had she dismissed him or simply realized she had all the time in the world to make her next move? She’s already got us trapped here. The miserable bitch can decide what to do with us at her leisure. Lissy expected the other sorcerers to fan out, circle around Eirianwen’s prey, and get into position for some final showdown. Instead, they bowed in a tight circle before their ruler. Like a damn huddle for the opposing team.

  Her own little team was woefully outmatched yet doing better than expected. Fox miraculously hadn’t gone into a meltdown, at least not yet. Instead of pulling frantically at his shirt, he was now focused on his arm—probably looking at the little dragon tattoo. Trahern had somehow managed to coax a few hiccupped words from him, and she knew that the kindhearted Braith would be lending as much help and comfort as possible.

  Finally, Trahern held out a hand behind him, beckoning for Lissy to come, then drew her down next to him. From this new angle, the sight of her son’s stark white face was a punch to her heart. Those serious blue eyes were wide and scared, and he’d bitten his lip repeatedly until it bled. His small body jerked and shook as if electrified. Lissy swallowed hard, gripping Trahern’s hand with both of hers as hard as she could to keep herself from reaching out to touch Fox. Even Braith’s great wrinkled face looked more worried than usual. The enormous dog leaned close against his young charge, physically propping him up, but even that didn’t seem like enough. Surely, her son was going to collapse any moment now, and Lissy ached to scoop him up into her arms. Not possible, goddammit. Human touch at this moment, even from her, could trigger the very meltdown they wanted to avoid.

  “Your mother is safe now. You saved her life,” said Trahern, and though Fox didn’t turn his head, he glanced at her for a moment as if to see for himself.

  She smiled up at him. “That makes you a hero, dude, just like Tiger Ninja.”

  “Yes, it does,” agreed Trahern, seizing on the analogy. “And like Tiger Ninja, now you have to stop the bad guys from winning. You did well to draw so much energy from around you, and you even pulled power away from the spell the bad guys sent.”

  The irony of a card-carrying member of the Wild Hunt using a term like bad guys wasn’t lost on Lissy. She’d have to tease him about it later. If there ever was a later . . .

  Fox sniffled and hiccupped, but he bravely tried to hold himself together. “Do I get a—get a—get a crystal?”

  “Most certainly. I have a new collection of stones, and you may pick three. But before we can go home, there is one more thing to do,” he continued. “You have—”

  Another, stronger tremor made Lissy glad she was already on the floor . . . but this one didn’t stop. As the vibrations continued, rocks tumbled into the abyss, and leaves and acorns rained thickly from the canopy overhead. She reached out to Trahern. What’s wrong?

  Eirianwen has changed tactics. She seeks to bring the Hall down on top of us. The camarilla is directing their spells at the trunk of the oak behind her. Aloud, he spoke to her son as calmly and easily as if they were discussing the ants in the garden: “You have all the power you need, Master Fox. Now is the time to push it out and away from you, just like you do with our deadly mega-force bombs in the backyard. Push it all away now.”

  Fox gave a quick nod, looking a little less scared. As he had done countless times at home, he drew both hands and one foot up into a comically exaggerated fighting stance . . . And Trahern suddenly threw himself on top of Lissy, knocking her flat to the hard stone floor. For a long moment, there was no sound, and since she could barely breathe, she was about to tell him to get the hell off—

  Then all hell broke loose.

  THIRTY-FOUR

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nbsp; A loud crack deafened Lissy, as if a lightning bolt had struck only yards away, but far worse was the enormous weight that suddenly rolled over her and Trahern. A scream fought for release, but she didn’t have enough air. Just as she was certain they would both be crushed or smothered, the terrible pressure moved past them, and they were free of it. Trahern shifted, and she gulped in several breaths until the dots in her vision cleared, but he refused to let her up.

  It is not yet safe. Look, he whispered in her mind.

  Fox stood above them, still in ninja mode, unmoved and unharmed. Beyond them, an invisible force radiated outward in a great ring, picking up speed and driving everything it touched ahead of it—rocks, branches, leaves, and debris—leaving only the scoured stone floor behind. It’s some weird kind of pressure wave. Her inner scientist considered. But it’s so slow—

  Then Fox threw a punch at the air.

  A deep, monstrous thud assaulted her senses anew, vibrating through every cell in her body, and she squeezed her eyes shut as even the floor undulated beneath her. Sudden vicious wind filled her ears with its roaring and pulled at her, yanking her hair and clothes. If Trahern hadn’t been on top of her, it would have dragged her away, perhaps even over the edge of the chasm. She couldn’t see, and she fought to reach out for Fox, but she was powerless to control her body in any way. The suction of the wind—the shaking, the roaring—went on and on until she felt she would fly apart.

  Abruptly, everything stilled. The floor seemed solid again, nothing moved, and she heard no sound. Maybe I’m deaf.

  You are not deaf. It is simply finished. Trahern moved off her, and she quickly raised herself to her elbows to look for Fox.

  Standing, simply standing, her little boy rested one hand on the ever-faithful Braith. His small face was calm, but his eyes had that bruised look they sometimes got when he was tired. Lissy sat up to ask if he was okay—