“They all make their way home, once everything has been taken from them.”
His stomach dropped as the Oracle’s words sunk in. They were too late, at least for Mick.
With a strangled cry, Dee sagged against him. Then, visibly collecting herself, she squared her shoulders and looked the Oracle directly in the face. “You mean he’s—.”
“One of the Soulless now.” The red glow of the Oracle’s eyes flared. “And still more come. Daily, sometimes hourly.”
“Aye.” Mort shook his head. “Soon, every Fae who lives within the human world will be decimated.”
“And worse.” The Oracle’s voice regained a touch of its old resonance. “Rune itself is now in danger. This Natasha has crossed the veil. She is here. And she has her machine with her.”
Chapter Seventeen
“HERE?” CENRICK, Dee, and Mort all exclaimed at once. “How?”
The Oracle’s eyes glowed scarlet as she focused on Cenrick. “You led her here.”
A great weariness seized him. “I? I tried to use magic against her. Instead, the spell sent us here.”
“Unfortunately, you showed her the way. When the magic used the last of your strength to bring you home, this showed her the way into Rune.”
Shocked, Cenrick glanced at Dee. Though her amber eyes were narrowed, he saw no accusation in her face.
Still, that did not negate the fact that he had failed his people. Momentously. Not only had he been unsuccessful in destroying Natasha and her evil machine, but he’d brought her to the very place he’d wanted to protect. Rune.
“Wouldn’t she need a lot of magic to emulate Cenrick’s spell? I know she has some, but in the end, she’s still human.” Ever the voice of reason, Dee’s comment nearly made him smile. Nearly.
“She has magic,” the Oracle responded. “She has become a powerful mage, in her own right.”
“But how?” Dee persisted. “How is this possible?”
This time, Cenrick answered. “She has somehow gathered all the magic from those Fae she ruined, and taken it into herself. She resonates with power, and were she truly Fae, she would be greatly feared.”
“Or revered.” Mort’s mournful sigh echoed Cenrick’s weariness. “Unfortunately, she is evil.”
Dee shook her head. “Okay, so she has magic. Still, you could give me magic, and I wouldn’t know how to use it. How did this Natasha figure out how to get to Rune?”
“My spell. She must have recorded it.”
“That still doesn’t explain how was she able to bring that machine of hers, made of metal, across with her. My gun never crosses with me.”
“She followed on the tail of your crossing. She has used your own magic to bring herself to Rune.” Mort’s voice was heavy. “As to how she was able to bring human metal and machinery with her, we don’t know. But she has. I have seen her, as has the Oracle. The machine is here.”
From her perch on the back of his chair, Tinth screeched again. The sound echoed around the stone room.
“My hawk is afraid.” Mort indicated the huge bird.
“So should we all be.” The Oracle rose, her robes billowing out around her like white smoke. “This battle will begin sooner than you think. But for now, come with me. I’ll take you to see Talmick.”
“Mick.” Dee stumbled, looking at Cenrick with sorrowful eyes.
He took her hand, his chest tight, and spoke for her. “Peter is still here, too?”
“Yes.” Mort replied. “They all are.”
Dee made no comment.
Offering her silent comfort, Cenrick squeezed her hand. Moving silently beside him, he didn’t understand why she didn’t respond at all to the mention of her former intended.
Perhaps he’d been wrong? Maybe Dee didn’t pine for Peter after all. Through every step of the way, her concern had been for Mick, the brother of her heart.
The aching in his chest lightened at the thought.
As before, the Oracle led them to down deep into the earth. “The Pool of Dreamers dries more each passing day.” A great sorrow filled her voice. “The Soulless Ones drink from the water, using it to sustain their empty lives. Now the magic of the earth will no longer replenish it.”
“Why?” Cenrick asked. “The Pool has always refilled itself.”
“I know not, though I think it has something to do with the absence of magic. In these caves, I alone still retain my magic, my soul. Though I try, my power alone is not enough to sustain the hungry earth. I have not enough to give her, so the water turns bracken and dies.”
“Can we help?” Dee wanted to know. “Is there something Cenrick and the Mage can do to help restore the pool?”
Stiff shouldered, the Oracle continued leading the way down, and did not answer.
Beside him, Dee subsided into silence. One look at her pinched, miserable expression, and Cenrick knew her thoughts were with her former fiancé. He vowed once Natasha and her evil machine were vanquished, he personally would heal Peter and lead the man to Dee’s side. If Peter did not love her, he at least owed Dee an explanation. Closure. While living in the human world, he’d heard a lot about this closure, and the value human females placed on obtaining it.
Still, he could not help but wonder how Peter could be such a fool.
When they finally reached the large chamber under the earth, Cenrick saw what she’d meant. The once immense Pool had withered, to little more than a pond. Even the water seemed bracken, as though what magic which had given it life had fled.
Here, like outside, the damaged Fae were so numerous they crowded the rock walls, filling the crevices where they slept and reclined. Many still wandered, moving through the silent crowd like wraiths.
“How many are there now?” Shock felt like a knife in Cenrick’s chest.
“Well over a thousand.” Mort answered.
“How is that possible? Mick didn’t have that many friends.”
“Friend of a friend of a friend, and so on.” Mort waved his hand. “There are still many thousand more living among the humans.”
Dee stood on tip-toes, scanning the crowd.
“Are you looking for Peter?” Cenrick asked, the awful weight on his chest doubling at the pain in her eyes.
“No, Mick.” She said, turning to the Oracle. “Where is he?”
“There, you will find Talmick.” The Oracle swept her arms, indicating the vast crowd milling in the cave. “And Cenrick, if you look closely at their faces, you will see many others you have known since you were a child.”
Such sorrow rang in her voice that Cenrick’s throat tightened.
“There,” Dee gasped, yanking her hand from his and unerringly making her way across the pockmarked rock to a small knot of Fae.
Cenrick followed close behind, helping her push aside the immobile and unaware others. He saw one man he recognized, and one woman, people who had taught him magic in his youth. In the midst of these stood his cousin Talmick, slack-jawed and hollow eyed. “Mick.” Crying openly now, Dee gathered the slender man close. Completely unresponsive, he seemed unaware of them, indeed unaware of anything, save what he might see inside his own head.
“I’ve failed him.” Dee turned her face to his, letting him see the fury and the despair in her eyes. “They took his soul and we let it happen.”
“They have harmed more than he.” Stern-voiced, the Oracle stepped between them, gently disentangling Mick from Dee and sending him shuffling off in the opposite direction.
Tears streaming down her face, Dee watched him go.
“Come with me.” The Oracle turned to go, Mort close behind her.
Unresisting, Dee let Cenrick take her arm. He led her from the chamber behind the others, and back out into the passage. All silent, they climbed until they stood once more in the great, hollow cave of the Oracle.
“Do you see what needs to be done?” Mort touched Cenrick’s shoulder, his gaze full of both worry and hope. Cradling a too-silent Dee, Cenrick nodded. “I need more than
magic.”
“You already have more than magic,” the Oracle turned to face them, eyes blazing scarlet. Full and strong, her voice once again had the ring of prophecy. “Much more than magic, if you will but use it.”
In the still, quiet air, the sound of wind chimes began.
A moment later, the scent of Oracle’s heady incense, so notably absent before, filled the cave.
“Magic returns with your coming. Together, if you will but see the way, you can call forth more than magic.”
Staring at the Oracle, the hair on Cenrick’s arms rose and he knew, though he did not yet understand, the great Fae wizard-woman spoke true.
More than magic. Where? How?
Dee sagged against him. Despite the fact that the Oracle and Mort watched, Cenrick gathered her and held her close, letting her cry silently.
Finally, she straightened. Swiping at her face, she looked at the Oracle. “There is one thing I need to know.”
“You may ask.”
“Once we’ve located this… monstrosity and stopped it, will you be able to restore these poor, lost Fae their souls?”
The Oracle’s gaze flared again, bright red this time, like blood welling from a fresh wound, before she turned to look at the slack-jawed Fae shuffling aimlessly about. “That is my fondest hope,” she replied. “I will do all that is within my power to help them.
Tinth screeched, spreading her immense wings. Mort spoke soothingly to the huge bird, and she settled back without a ruffled feather.
“Tell us where we might find Natasha.” Keeping his arm around Dee, Cenrick faced the two wise ones.
Mort and the Oracle exchanged a look. “She is at the palace, preparing to rule the ruined city.”
Horrified, Cenrick froze. “My father is there. Alone.”
Dee gripped his arm. “We’ve got to go. Now.”
They turned to go.
“Wait.” The Oracle’s command stopped them. “You have not listened to us before, so we shall tell you once more. Sometimes, two halves of the same soul must join to combine their strength. This is one of those times when such power is needed.”
“More than Magic,” Mort intoned. “This joining will bring the power forth.”
Cenrick frowned. “I’ve already been to see Alrick.”
“Alrick?” Frowning, the Mage shook his head. “What’s Alrick got to do with this?”
“Two halves of the same soul.” Cenrick waved his hand. “People were always saying twins such as Alrick and I shared a single soul.”
“No.” The Oracle turned away, as if disgusted. “I’ve already told Dee that is not what we meant.” She waved him forward. “Go to the palace. See if you can stop her. But I can promise you this. If you do not put the power of the two halves together, this Natasha will win.”
She clapped her hands.
And Cenrick and Dee stood again in the meadow, among the dead and dying flowers. The gray outline of the castle shone dimly through the thickening fog. Glowing.
The sickly yellow lit up the drab sky like an obscene bonfire.
“That’s like Mick’s house looked.” Dee sounded as exhausted as he felt. And furious.
“She’s there,” Cenrick said, letting his own rage show in his voice. “She and that damnable machine.”
They moved forward, walking carefully.
He looked at her, noting the fierce light shining in her amber eyes. “I still don’t understand how she did it. How did she get the metal across the veil? Such a thing is not possible without great magical ability. Even the Oracle and the Mage could not say how she did this.”
“I don’t know, but I sure wish I could have brought my pistol.” Dee patted her empty holster. It would have come in handy right about now.”
He thought of where they’d been when they crossed the veil, and grimaced. “I hope she doesn’t have it.”
Dee’s mouth worked. “Me too. That Ruger packs a pretty punch. You saw what it did to her foot.”
“Metal should not cross the veil. Even a former enemy from the future could not do this. It makes no sense.”
“If she’s taken all those Fae’s magic into herself, then she has great magical ability,” Dee pointed out. “Which makes her dangerous.”
“Dangerous, true. But this is our chance. We’ve got to destroy her and her creation.”
“We can, we will.” Confidence in her voice, Dee clutched his hand. “As long as you don’t let go of me, you’ll be protected. Remember that.”
He nodded.
Together they dashed up the steps. Inside, the glow took on a phosphorous quality, shimmering on gray, dead walls and floors.
“This way.” Footsteps echoing, they ran down a hallway, following the green. “I think it’s coming from the throne room.”
As they approached, the light grew brighter, more insistent. Before they reached them, the double doors flung themselves open.
The light blazing from within was brighter than searchlights, blinding with its seductive malevolence. Beckoning, calling, as though it recognized them.
Suddenly afraid, Dee looked up at Cenrick. With a fierce smile, he kissed her hard. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Don’t let go of my hand.”
Together, they stepped inside.
Immediately, the glow’s intensity undulated, as though in triumph.
A raised dais occupied the far end of the room. There, on the throne, Natasha waited, the glow surrounding her like a nimbus of evil. “I’ve been expecting you,” she said, her voice echoing. “I’ve become stronger, thanks to you. And I’ve developed other weapons.”
Her foot appeared perfectly healed.
Behind her, the machine hummed. Ready. Waiting. Without Dee’s touch to protect him, the thing’s power would have incapacitated Cenrick immediately.
Would have…
He had to pretend! She squeezed his hand. Natasha had no idea that Dee’s touch could protect Cenrick.
Understanding immediately, he dropped to his knees, moaning convincingly. Dee kept hold of his hand.
Satisfaction in her smug smile, Natasha glanced at Dee. “And now you. Though you claim to be human, I can see the truth and know you attempt to lie. My machine will steal your soul as well.”
Dee stared. Despite her assurances the last time they met, Natasha apparently still believed Dee to be Fae also. Fine. If that’s what it took…
Mimicking Cenrick, Dee also dropped to her knees beside him. All the while never letting go of her grip on his hand.
Cenrick was her lifeline. Her strength, protection, and safety. Together, they would have the element of surprise on their side, which should enable them to best the blonde woman. She hoped.
Natasha’s laugh echoed around the cavernous room. “You shall be the second, and the third.” Snapping her fingers, she gestured and two men came forward, supporting an unconscious man between them. Dee saw the flash of fear flare in Cenrick’s eyes, though he kept them downcast so the blonde woman wouldn’t see.
“My father,” he protested, making his voice weak.
“Yes, King Roark.” She chuckled. “Three centuries of power reside inside this one.” She licked her lips. “I can’t wait until it fills me.” Her expression positively orgasmic, she stroked the unconscious King’s cheek. “I will be so powerful then, none can stop me. Then I will take on your Mage and your Oracle.”
Again she focused on the King, caressing his white hair lovingly. While her attention was diverted, Cenrick crawled forward, dragging Dee with him. They managed to advance a good ten feet without drawing the other woman’s attention.
When she looked at them again, he dropped his head, pretending an attempt to struggle to his feet. “Stop,” he choked out. “Take me, instead of him. Leave my father alone.”
The machine hummed while Natasha considered. Eyes narrowed, she studied them. Then, she shook her head. “All in good time, my beautiful ones. All in good time.” Again she laughed, the sound striking Dee as evil incarnat
e.
Motioning to her bodyguards, Natasha supervised while they strapped the king in the machine.
While she did this, Cenrick and Dee continued to creep forward, inch by inch, foot by foot.
Once she had the King secured in her monstrous invention, she faced Cenrick and Dee again, her expression full on anticipation. “I’m so going to enjoy making you watch while I steal your father’s soul.”
Cenrick moaned again, trying for weak. He must have sounded convincing, because the sound made Natasha chuckle. As soon as she turned her head, he moved forward another couple of feet, freezing when she swung around to face them.
With one more, quick look at them, Natasha crossed the room. She’d set up a laptop on a table – another modern item which shouldn’t have been able to cross the veil. She lifted the lid.
The instant she began typing, Cenrick leaned close to Dee. “Ready?”
She nodded, her muscles tightening as she prepared to leap to her feet. Beside her, she felt Cenrick do the same.
Natasha continued typing, occasionally glancing from her computer to the machine.
The glow intensified as she upped the power.
King Roark groaned, a loud tortured sound.
“One, two, three, go!” Together they rushed Natasha, full out. Surprise and shock reflect in her face when she realized Cenrick was not incapacitated by her machine.
Savagely, she twisted a dial.
The machine grew louder, the glow brighter.
King Roark screamed, a blood-curdling sound of such agony, it chilled the blood.
“Enough!” Cenrick roared. He pointed a finger at Natasha, muttered a spell. Flame blazed from his hand, directly at her.
With a sneer, she easily deflected it. Unafraid, she stood her ground, face alight with an unholy glee.
He tried another spell, this time a blaze of pure energy.
This time, instead of deflecting it, Natasha absorbed the magic into her body. She seemed to swell with power, and her shadow grew so long she seemed to tower above them.
Meanwhile, the hum and glow from the machine intensified, reaching a fevered pitch.
The King moaned, struggling against the restraints. Dee saw he would not last long if they did not rescue him.
Missing Magic Page 21