by Nora Roberts
“Passing as human doesn’t make them so. And yet, Cian’s one I’d trust more than most men. I wonder if living so long a life has something to do with it.”
“Tell that to Lilith. She’s got twice his years.”
“Demons would have choices, wouldn’t they? Go this way or that. I don’t know the answers there. And when this is done, you’ll go back to your Chicago?”
“I don’t know.” There was an itch between her shoulder blades at the thought of it. “Somewhere else, I think. Maybe New York for a while.”
“Where Glenna lived. She showed me pictures of it. It’s a marvel. Maybe you’ll stay in Geall for a while. Like a holiday.”
“Holiday in Geall.” She shook her head. “Talk about marvels. Maybe. A few days anyway.” It wasn’t like she had anyone waiting for her to get back.
They walked to the cemetery, and the ruined chapel. Flowers still bloomed here, and the breeze whispered in the high grass.
“These are my people. It’s so weird to know that. If it had been traced back this far, no one ever told me.”
“Does it make you sad?”
“I don’t know. A little I guess. Hoyt brought me here to show me where I came from. That’s Nola’s grave.” She gestured to a stone where the flowers she’d laid days before were faded and dying. “She was the beginning of the family legacy. The start of it. One of her children would have been the first hunter. I don’t know which one, and guess I’ll never know. But at least one of them.”
“Would you change it, if you could?”
“No.” She looked over at him when he draped his arm over her shoulder. “Would you give up what you can do?”
“Not for all the gold in the Green Mountains. Especially now. Because it makes a difference now. When you have your holiday in Geall,” he said as they walked on, “I’ll take you to the Faerie Falls. We’ll have a picnic.”
“And back to food.” She dug out a cookie, stuffed it in his mouth.
“We’ll swim in the pool—the water’s clear as blue crystal, and warm as well. After I’ll make love to you on the soft grass while the water tumbles down beside us.”
“And on to sex.”
“Food and sex. What could be more pleasant to think about?”
She had to admit, he had a point. And couldn’t deny that the simplicity of an afternoon walk had been an unexpected gift, more precious than she would have imagined.
“It’s blue,” she said. “My favorite color’s blue.”
He shot her a grin, took her hand so they walked linked over the hill, and down. “Look there. That’s a pretty sight.”
She saw Glenna and Hoyt in the herb garden, caught in an embrace. The garden thrived around them; the sun showered down. Glenna held a basket of herbs she’d harvested, and her free hand lay on Hoyt’s cheek.
“Hear the mockingbird call?” Larkin asked, and she did, the happy little trill of it.
There was a quiet intimacy to the moment, something that couldn’t be captured and preserved yet was enduring and universal. A miracle to find this, she thought, this normality, this heart against heart in all the horror.
She realized until she’d come here, she hadn’t believed in miracles.
“This is why we’ll win,” Larkin said quietly.
“What?”
“This is why they can’t beat us. We’re stronger than they are.”
“Not to spoil the moment, but physically they’ve got it all over the average human.”
“Physically. But it’s not all about brute strength, is it? It never is. They look to destroy, and we to survive. Survival’s always stronger. And we have this.” He nodded toward Hoyt and Glenna. “Love and kindness, compassion. Hope. Why else would two people make promises to each other at such a time, and mean to keep them? We won’t give all this up, you see. We won’t have it taken from us. We’ll band together for this, and we’ll never stop.”
He heard Glenna laugh, and the sound of it reached into him, into that hope as she and Hoyt walked toward the house.
“You’re thinking neither will they. Neither will they stop, but that doesn’t change it, Blair. In the caves, I saw them in the cages. Some were beaten down, too tired, too frightened to do more than wait to die. But others rattled those cages and they cursed those bastards. And when I let them out, I saw more than fear, even more than hope in some of the faces. I saw bloody vengeance.”
When he turned to look at her, Blair saw all of that in his face.
“I saw the stronger helping the weaker,” he continued, “because that’s what humans do. Terrible times do one of two things to us, they bring out the worst or the best.”
“You’re counting on the best.”
“We’ve already started on that, haven’t we? We’re six of us.”
She let that play through her mind as they walked on. “The way I was trained,” she began, “was to depend on one thing. Yourself. No one else. You’re in the battle alone, beginning to end—and it never ends.”
“So you’re always alone? What would be the point, then?”
“Winning. Coming out of the battle alive, and your enemy dead. Black and white. No grandstanding, no mistakes, no distractions.”
“Who could live that way?”
“My father could. Did. Does. After he…after I was on my own, I spent some time with my aunt. She had a different philosophy. Sure it’s about winning, because if you don’t win you’re dead. But it’s also about living. Family, friends. Going to the movies, sitting on the beach.”
“Walking in the sun.”
“Yeah. It works for her, for her family.”
“You’re her family.”
“And she always made me feel that way. But it’s not the way I was trained. Maybe that’s why it’s never worked as well for me. I…there was someone once, and I loved him. We made some promises to each other, but we couldn’t keep them. He couldn’t be with me. I couldn’t make it work, because what I am didn’t just shock and frighten him. It disgusted him.”
“Then he wasn’t the man for you, or, in my thinking, any kind of a man at all.”
“He was just normal, Larkin. A normal, average guy, and I thought I wanted—thought I could have that. Normal, average.”
She was made for better, he thought. She was made for more.
“You could say Jeremy—that was his name—taught me I couldn’t have that. It’s not that I don’t have a life outside of what my father calls ‘the mission.’ I have some civilian friends. I like to shop, eat pizza, watch TV. But it’s always in there, the knowing what comes out after sundown. You can’t shake it. We’re not like other people.”
She looked up. “Sun’s getting low. Better go in, set up for a training session.” She gave him a quiet look. “Playtime’s over.”
It wasn’t a hardship, Larkin thought, to sit and have a beautiful woman tend to you—especially when the woman smelled lovely and had hands like an angel.
“How’s this?” Glenna gently kneaded his shoulder, down the arm and back again.
“It’s good. It’s fine. You can stop anytime in the next hour or two.”
She chuckled, but worked her way across his back to his other shoulder. “You took some hard knocks, pal. But you’re coming right along. It wouldn’t hurt for you to skip training tonight.”
“I think it’s best I keep up with it. Time’s short enough.”
“A few days, and we leave.” She looked over his head, out the window as she continued to work his back and shoulders. “Strange how quickly this has become home. I still miss New York, but it’s not home anymore.”
“But you’ll go back from time to time.”
“Oh yeah, I’ll need my fix. You can take the girl out of the city, but…” She walked around him, played her fingers over the bruising on the side of his ribs. And made him jolt.
“Sorry. I’m a bit ticklish.”
“Suck it in and think of Geall. I’ll be quick.”
It was torture really
, fearing at any minute he might giggle like a girl. “You’ll like Geall. At the castle, there are fine gardens, and herbs—oh Jesus, you’re killing me. And the river, where it runs behind the castle is nearly wide as a lake. The fish all but jump out into your hands, and…Thank God, is that all of it?”
“You’ll do. Put your shirt on.”
He rolled his shoulders first, circled his head on his neck. “It’s better. Thanks for that, Glenna.”
“All in a day’s work.” She walked to the sink to wash balm from her hands. “Larkin, Hoyt and Cian have been talking.”
“That’s good, seeing as they’re brothers.” He got up, pulled on his shirt. “But you’re not meaning light family conversations.”
“No. Logistics, strategies. Hoyt’s good with logistics—he doesn’t miss details, but Cian’s better with strategy, I suppose. Anyway.” She turned, drying her hands on a towel. “I asked that they not discuss all this over dinner, so we could just have a meal. A normal…well, as normal as you can have with weapons everywhere.”
“And a fine meal it was. I saw you and Hoyt earlier, kissing in the herb garden.”
“Oh.”
“And that was normal. The walk I took with Blair, or Moira cuddled up with a book somewhere. We need all that, so you shouldn’t worry I’m offended that I haven’t been part of a discussion on logistics and strategy.”
“You make it easy. Thanks. The thing is, we’re working out not only how to get weapons and the supplies we’ll need from here to the Dance, but from here to Geall, and from the Dance in Geall to wherever we’re going once we’re there.”
“The castle would be the place for it.”
“The castle.” Glenna gave a quiet laugh. “Off to the castle. The transportation might be a bit tricky, and we’d need you and Moira to help with that. Meanwhile, only you and Moira know your way around once we’re there. How are you at drawing maps?”
“This would be the whole of Geall.” In the library, Larkin drew it out. “This being the shape of it as I’ve seen on the maps at home. A sort of ragged fan, with these dips being inlets and bays and harbors. And here would be the Dance.”
“In the west,” Hoyt murmured, “as it is here.”
“Aye, and a bit inland. Though if it’s a clear day you can see the coast, and out to sea. There’s a forest, as there is here, but it spreads just a bit more to the north. The Dance is on a rise, and the Well of the Gods here. And here, ah, about here, would be the castle.”
He marked it, drawing a kind of rook and flag. “It’s a good hour’s ride, if you’re going easy, along this road. There’d be forks here, and again here. To this way, you’d go into the village—Geall City. And this way down to Dragon’s Lair, and onto Knockarague. My mother’s people came from there, and there are plenty who would come to fight.”
“And the battleground?” Hoyt asked him.
“Here, near the center of Geall. These, the mountains, in a kind of half ring running north, curving east, and down to the south. The valley is here. It’s wide, and it’s rough land, pocked with caves, layered with rock. It’s called Ciunas. Silence, as a man could wander there, lost, for hours. And no one would hear. In all of Geall, to my knowing, it’s the only place nothing lives but the grass and the rocks.”
“No point in having an apocalypse in a meadow,” Cian commented. “Five days’ march, isn’t that what Moira said?”
“Hard march, yes.”
“Tricky for me, even if I managed to get that far.”
“There are places along the way. Shelters, cabins, caves, cottages. We’ll see you don’t go up like a torch.”
“You’re a comfort to me, Larkin.”
“A man does what he can. There are settlements closer to the valley,” he continued, sketching them in. “Men can be called on there as well. But I think there needs to be some fortification done. The enemy would find those locations handy for their own shelter and preparations.”
“Boy’s got a brain,” Cian commented. “She’d attack these.” Cian tapped his finger on the map. “Decimate the population, turn those she felt would serve her best, use the rest for food supply. Those would be her first strike.”
“Then those will be our first defense.” Hoyt nodded.
“You’d be wasting valuable time and effort.”
“We can’t leave people undefended,” Hoyt began.
“Get them out. Leave her without the food source or fresh recruits, at least in that area. I’d say burn the settlement to the ground, but I’d be wasting my time and effort.”
“But you’d be right.” Blair stepped into the room. “Leave her with no shelter, no supplies, nothing but ash. It’s the cleanest, quickest and most efficient method.”
“You’re talking of people’s homes.” Larkin shook his head at her. “Of people’s homes and lives and livelihoods.”
“Which they won’t have when she’s done in any case. But they won’t do it,” she said to Cian. “And if they did, or tried, people would rebel, and we’d be fighting two fronts. So clear out the population, move the old, the weak, those who can’t or won’t fight to the castle or other fortifications.”
“But you agree with him,” Larkin insisted. “On the surface of it. Burn it down, the homes, the farms, the shops.”
“Yes, I do.”
“There are other ways.” Hoyt held up a hand. “Glenna and I haven’t been able to do a spell to repel the vampires from around this house because of Cian. But we could try one to protect these areas, to keep them out of the homes there. Their wizard may be able to break through that, but it would take time—and have his focus and energies tied up.”
“That could work.” But she exchanged a look with Cian, understood he was thinking the same as she. So they wouldn’t burn the settlements. Lilith would.
“So, this is Geall.” She leaned over the map. “And this is the place. Landlocked, slapped up against the mountains. Lots of caves, lots of hiding places, and desolate for all that. A goat would have a hard time beating a retreat out of there.”
“We won’t be running,” Larkin said tightly.
“I was thinking of them. Without other shelter during the day, they’ll use the caves. That gives us the high ground, but gives them ambush advantage. It’ll be night, another advantage for them. We’ll use fire, big advantage us. But before we get there, I’ve got some ideas about some surprises along the way. Now we don’t know where she’s going to come out, but we have to figure the odds are it’s within this area.”
Blair placed a hand on the map. “Battleground, shelter, castle. She’s not going to nip behind a rock during the day—not her style, so she’s got it worked that she comes in at night and moves with some speed to shelter. Most likely, she’ll send an advance to these settlements, get it all taken care of for her arrival. So we need to know the quickest routes from these points to these.”
They worked, debated, discussed. She could tell Larkin had backed off from her, stepped away on some basic level. She told herself it couldn’t be helped. Told herself she wouldn’t be hurt.
What was between them was illusion anyway. Something framed in fantasy, as transient as innocence. The passion was fine, it helped fill voids—temporarily. She knew very well that passion flickered out and died when things got tough. However cold the comfort, she held it to her. Kept it close when she went to her room alone.
Moira bided her time. All through training she could see there was something wrong between Blair and Larkin. They barely spoke, and if they did it was like strangers. When most of the night was gone, she caught him by the arm before he could leave the training room.
“Come on with me, would you? There’s something I want to show you.”
“What?”
“In my room. It’ll take a minute. We’ll be home in a few days,” she said before he could object. “I wonder if all this will seem like a dream.”
“A nightmare.”
“Not all of it.” Recognizing his poor mood, s
he bumped him affectionately with her hip. “You know not all of it. Time’s moving so fast now. For a while, it seemed we’d been here forever. Now it’s flying, and it’s like we only arrived.”
“I’ll feel better when I get there. When I know where I am, what I’m about.”
Oh yes, she thought, something was wrong. She opened the door to her room, and didn’t speak again until they were both inside, and the door shut.
“What’s gone wrong between you and Blair?”
“I don’t know what you’d be talking about. What did you want to show me?”
“Not a thing.”
“You said—”
“Well, I lied, didn’t I? I’ve seen the two of you together for a while now, and just today out walking, hand-in-hand—and a look in your eye that I’m not mistaking.”
“And what of it?”
“Tonight, the air frosted between you every time one of you opened your mouth to the other. You quarreled?”
“No.”
She pursed her lips. “Maybe you need to quarrel.”
“Don’t be foolish, Moira.”
“What’s foolish about it? She made you happy. She brought something into you I’ve never seen, and it seemed to me you were bringing the same to her.”
He toyed with some of the pretty stones she’d taken from the stream and put on the bureau. “I think you’re wrong. I think I was wrong.”
“Why is that?”
“She said today I didn’t really know her. I didn’t believe her, but now…Now I wonder if she didn’t have the right of it.”
“Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t, but it’s no question to me she’s done or said something to upset you. Are you just going to leave it to lie there? Why don’t you kick it to pieces, or at least kick it back at her?”
“I don’t—”
“And don’t make excuses to me,” she snapped, impatient. “Whatever it is can’t be bigger than what we’re facing. Anything else is petty now. Anything else, I swear, can be fixed. So, go and fix it.”