Halting, I stretched out my senses. Tension threaded the hot, still air, and the soft lap of water against the pebbly shore was the only sound. I couldn’t detect anything more, but I was a terrible witch.
I swore again. Shoulders slumping, I walked back to the log and dropped onto it. Ríkr was right. Zak would reach the crossroads long before I could catch up to him. Chasing him would only waste energy, and it was too damn humid for a high-speed hike up a mountain peak.
Heaving a sigh, I opened my backpack again. Zak had tossed in a box of granola bars and a bag of trail mix from my kitchen. I whiled away twenty minutes picking all my favorite nuts from the trail mix. My knee bounced with irrepressible impatience.
I hated being idle. Too long with nothing to do and my brain went into overdrive. Obsessive, anxious thoughts fought for dominance—Jason Brine and his killer fae, Laney and her visit to the clinic, the MPD agents and their bounty hunting team at the rescue, Zak ditching me and how that made me so furious I could scream.
With nothing better to do, I emptied the backpack and repacked it. As I tucked the granola bars away, the soft clink of a chain caught my attention. I dug into the very bottom of the bag and pulled out the golden locket from Arla’s office. Zak must’ve packed it to keep it out of the MPD’s hands.
I popped it open. Jason Brine’s tiny face grinned at me, his head shaved and chin covered by a brown beard; he was surprisingly handsome, with angular features and a charismatic air. Laney beamed in her photo, happier than she ever looked when I was nearby. Did she love him?
My scattered thoughts turned to our conversation this afternoon. I wasn’t sure whether to believe her claim that she’d come to witness my reaction to the news that I was about to be arrested, but her reaction to my mention of Summit Trail had been interesting. She must’ve known I was hinting at the crossroads. Did she suspect something? My gut still said she wasn’t involved in her mother’s murder.
I stuck the locket in my back pocket and stretched my legs out. Minutes ticked by. My gaze drifted across the summit on the far side of the lake, the crossroads beyond it. Tantalizingly close, yet too far to easily reach. Zak could go to hell for abandoning me here.
With unbearable impatience scraping at my self-control, I slid off the log to the ground, crossed my legs, and attempted to meditate. It took a solid ten minutes before my mind calmed and my sense of time slid away.
I meditated until the sun’s golden light faded and shadows deepened across the landscape. Pushing to my feet, I stretched my limbs. It’d been close to two hours now. If Zak didn’t return soon, nightfall would beat him here.
At least night would alleviate the oppressive humidity. I scrunched my toes in my hiking boots, my feet unpleasantly hot.
Leaving my backpack beside the log, I walked to the shore. A low, flat boulder jutted out into the lake, and I sat on the far end, pulled my boots off, rolled my jeans up above my ankles, and stuck my feet into the cold water.
A sigh slid from me. Much better.
I glanced toward the sunset. Had Zak learned anything at the crossroads? Had Balligor revealed what he knew of the “creature” we were seeking? If he didn’t find anything, I wouldn’t be able to prove my innocence to the MPD. They’d keep hunting me.
With a metallic clink, a snow-white squirrel appeared beside me, his pale blue eyes stern. A golden locket hung from his mouth.
Drop something, dove?
“Oh.” Taking the locket, I balled up the chain and reached for my pocket again, intending to ensure it was tucked away properly this time.
Ríkr heaved a squirrely sigh. And if you drop it again? Put it somewhere safer.
“Like where?” When he gave me a long look, I grimaced and unlatched the chain, then looped it around my neck. “Better?”
He didn’t answer, his blue eyes turning toward the lake. His fluffy tail quivered. I looked down at the water, my feet submerged to my ankles. The water was slightly murky, the pebbly bottom a mosaic of browns. It was maybe two feet deep.
My skin prickled, tension winding my tired muscles tight. Ripples ran across the surface. A shadow slid across the water.
No.
A shadow slid beneath the water.
Saber! Ríkr yelled, leaping skyward as he transformed into a hawk.
The lake’s quiet energy burst, the surface of the water exploded, and a huge shape launched from the frothing waves.
I threw myself backward. White wings flashed. Jagged teeth, a jaw opening wide. A wave splashed over me, drenching me, blinding me. I rolled off the boulder and landed on my feet in the shallows. Sloshing backward onto the shore, I grabbed for my switchblade with one hand while frantically rubbing the water from my eyes with the other.
My vision cleared.
My heart stopped.
A hulking black creature, covered in rotting vegetation and algae slime, stood in the shallows on four legs. Its bulky, vaguely horse-like head turned toward me, its long muzzle full of curved teeth that pointed in every direction.
White wings, stained with crimson blood, hung from the kelpie’s monstrous jaws.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The kelpie swung its head, spitting the small fae from its mouth. The hawk tumbled across the rocky shore, a lifeless heap of bloody feathers.
“Ríkr!” I screamed.
The kelpie turned back to me, water and slime dripping off its huge form. It was easily twice the size of the creature that had burst out of the pond at the crossroads, and I couldn’t tell how much bulk was rotting seaweed and how much was flesh, bone, and muscle.
We meet again, pretty one.
The familiar voice hissed into my mind, and I reeled back another step. Balligor? The same kelpie as before? How was he so much larger?
I scanned the fae’s massive form for an obvious weak spot, my fingers tight around my switchblade, but its four inches of steel had never felt so insignificant. Ríkr hadn’t moved, not even a twitch.
Balligor slunk closer, his front legs shaped like a cat’s with dragonish feet, his hind legs like a horse, and a lizard’s tail. His mouth opened, splitting the sides of his long snout, his teeth stained with Ríkr’s blood.
You smell so sweet, pretty one, he purred, towering over me, twice the mass of a large draft horse. But so little power. Perhaps your flesh will satisfy me instead.
I stepped backward, pebbles digging into my bare feet. Fear, sharp and unfamiliar, flooded my body.
A shame the druid did not approach the water. His long black tongue snaked out of his mouth. Not a glance toward me, the arrogant fool.
Zak had sensed danger, but not its source. Ríkr hadn’t realized where the malignant energy he’d detected was emanating from either. They’d both thought it was coming from the crossroads. They’d both thought this spot was safer.
His power … his power is so potent. Balligor licked his chops. So irresistible, pretty one. You cannot imagine.
He was almost on top of me, but I hadn’t noticed him move. Just as I’d ended up too close to the pond last time, distance around this fae was not what I perceived.
His head lowered, and hot breath that reeked of sulfur and swamp bathed my face. I would much prefer the druid to you.
“Th-then …” I was stammering. Trembling. I so rarely felt fear that I couldn’t contain it. “Then let’s make a deal.”
A deep laugh gurgled in his throat. A deal, pretty one?
“You want the druid. I can get you the druid.”
Can you?
“I know where he went.”
Rocks crunched under the fae’s feet as he circled behind me, his foul breath making my throat convulse with nausea. He went to the crossroads. But that does not help me, pretty one. There is too little water there, and my form is not enough to defeat him. I need him to come here.
Did larger bodies of water increase his strength—and his size?
“I’ll bring him here,” I said.
Hot, moist air washed over my back, and a rough
tongue ran up my arm from elbow to shoulder. Will you, pretty one?
“I—I just—need … something to lure him here.” I fought my fear, fought for clarity. “Something convincing. He’s searching for a creature. You mentioned it before.”
The kelpie slathered his tongue over my skin a second time. Was he deciding that eating the weak witch he’d already caught was preferable to bargaining for a chance at the druid?
“Tell me something about the creature,” I told him breathlessly, “and I’ll convince the druid to come here to look for it. He’ll walk right into your reach.”
The creature … Balligor gurgled a laugh. His claws scraped the pebbled shore as he circled in front of me. Water lapped at my heels. I was right at the edge of the lake. When had I moved toward the water? Or had the water moved closer to me?
A shadow of Death. The fae lowered his head, and a pale eye gleamed from beneath the matted vegetation draping his face. He appears with the sun’s retreat, and no weapon does he need to claim his prey. Nameless animals cannot resist his call, and their spirits fly to his ever-hungry mouth.
“His call?” I whispered.
Balligor was so close that his huge head filled my vision. Fae and humans, our spirits are bound to our names. We can resist his call—but not always. Some lose their minds to terror. Some to rage. He will pursue his chosen prey relentlessly until they give up their name to him.
My breath rushed through my clenched teeth.
Names have power, pretty one. Give him another’s name, and he will call their life away, regardless of distance or defense. The fae reared back with a wet gargle. Humans are such fools to give their true names to any who ask. No fae is so reckless.
“That—” I gulped for air. “That should be enough to lure the druid here. I’ll tell him that the killer fae is—”
No, no, pretty one. Balligor’s massive jaws cracked. My lure is already set.
“What?”
His tongue slid out and I recoiled before it touched my face.
I can taste the druid on you. He will come to the water’s edge …
Powerful claws closed around my ankle.
… for you.
He wrenched my leg out from under me and I pitched backward. As I slammed down, I snapped my switchblade out and drove it into the fae’s clawed hand. His painful grip spasmed but he didn’t let go.
I yanked the blade out and stabbed again.
Hissing, Balligor grabbed me by the neck. Sitting back on his haunches, he lifted me into the air. I rammed my blade into his inner wrist. He snarled, squeezing my throat, cutting off my air.
I twisted my blade, digging it in, searching for something besides flesh. The tip ground across bone. I shifted the knife up and felt it catch on a tough, sinewy band. Black spots flashed in my vision, my lungs screaming. Grabbing my knife with both hands, I wrenched it out of his wrist, tearing through tendons and—
His enraged bellow rang out as I fell. Water splashed as the fae staggered, his arm outstretched and his fingers gaping open in an awkward claw shape.
The median nerve in the wrist. Sever it to cripple the functionality of the hand and forearm.
Shoving up, I bolted away from the lake. Thundering footsteps shook the ground, and a hand seized the back of my shirt, dragging me into the air. Gaping jaws opened wide as Balligor swung me toward his mouth.
But I could still hear thundering beats.
Hoofbeats.
Magic flashed, and a whip of golden light snapped around Balligor’s upper jaw, yanking it sideways.
I crashed onto the top of his slimy snout and bounced off. Plunging down, I landed on my back at the water’s edge, the air rammed from my lungs and my diaphragm seizing. The fae’s thick legs splashed feet away, but I couldn’t move.
Black fur. A canine face appeared in front of me.
Hold on to me, a low female voice growled inside my head.
I forced myself up and slung an arm around the varg’s shoulders. She dragged me through the shallow water, away from the kelpie’s stomping feet. My lungs finally unlocked, and I gasped for air.
Balligor roared furiously.
Twenty feet along the shore, the colossal fae swung at Zak and Tilliag. The blow struck the stallion in the shoulder, throwing him off his legs. Zak leaped clear of the falling horse and landed in a roll. As he came up, the kelpie’s claws flashed toward him.
Zak’s whip vanished and an amber shield formed from the same semi-transparent light, flaring out from his forearm. He thrust it up, and Balligor’s claws slammed against it. The power of the strike should have crushed a human’s strength, but Zak held against it.
“Impello,” he snarled.
A ripple of air burst off him, and the kelpie jolted as though struck by an invisible fist. Zak whipped a potion off his belt and flung it. The glass shattered against the fae, and Balligor recoiled as thick brown smoke billowed from the splattered potion.
The druid darted backward, reaching for one of the crystals hanging around his neck. “Ori vis siderea!”
A swirl of purple magic engulfed his hand. He flung it in the kelpie’s face. Balligor balked at the magic—then whipped his thick reptilian tail out. It slammed into Zak, hurling him off his feet.
The fae wolf supporting me shot away, and I splashed onto my hands and knees. A second varg ran out of the underbrush, and the canine pair charged the fae’s rear as he bore down on Zak.
Another flash of magic. A burst of gray smoke from a potion. A bright explosion of fire.
But it wasn’t enough.
The fae wolves tore at the protective layer of vegetation covering the kelpie. Tilliag charged but couldn’t get close as Balligor whirled. His tail smashed the vargs away. His swinging arm knocked the stallion to the ground. And with his slimy armor protecting him from Zak’s potions, he grabbed the druid by the throat and lifted him into the air, jaws opening wide.
Zak pulled the ten-inch knife from its sheath on his thigh and slammed it down into the fae’s mouth. The steel point burst through his lower jaw.
Roaring, Balligor slammed Zak into the ground with bone-breaking force. Pinning him by the chest, the fae laughed wetly.
So weak, Crystal Druid, he taunted. You are a disappointment to your reputation. You think that pitiful human magic can hurt me? Where is your arsenal of fae magic?
The sunlight dimmed. Shadows rippled across the lake, and the earth shuddered beneath buzzing power.
“Where indeed,” a female voice purred.
With a dark shimmer, Lallakai stepped out of the fae demesne, her emerald eyes glittering. Her knee-length raven hair swirled and her hips swayed seductively as she sauntered toward the kelpie.
“A crucial oversight, swamp scum, that you would forget to whom the Crystal Druid belongs.” Her red lips curved up. “An error which will cost you your life.”
Balligor snarled. Shadow witch. I will never—
She raised an elegant hand. Phantom wings flared wide on either side of her. Black power writhed up from the ground, and she cast her hand sideways. The dark magic swept out in arching blades.
Blood sprayed. Balligor staggered backward, a strangled gargle escaping him as his protective vegetation fell away and his blood splashed the shore. Roaring, he lunged toward her.
Lallakai waved her hand again. Another swirl of shadow blades ripped across the kelpie. He staggered, snarling. Another graceful gesture, and a third wave of shadow magic tore into him.
Bellowing, he whirled toward the water. As he fled, she pointed a sharp black fingernail at his back. The air burned with power as shadows spiraled around her arm, then shot from her finger like a spear. It pierced his neck at the base of his skull, and he crumpled into the three-foot-deep water.
On my hands and knees at the lake’s edge, I could only stare.
Turning, Lallakai looked down at Zak, lying at her feet. “My dearest stubborn druid, when will you give up this foolish pride?”
Zak, a hand pressed to his r
ibs, said nothing.
“Rumors of your weakness will spread. More fae will try for you.” She sank gracefully to her knees at his side. “You need me, my love. As desperately as ever. Why will you not let me help you?”
Her tone was sweet, caring, sad. It raised my hackles more than if she’d hissed vile threats.
She brushed her talon-like nails over his cheek. “How many wounds will you take? How many battles will you lose? You could already have replenished your lost magic if you would but rely on me again. Like you once did.”
If it hadn’t been so quiet, I wouldn’t have heard his hoarse reply.
“You want me to give you too much, Lallakai.”
She cupped his cheek. “You already gave yourself to me. You belong to me.”
“If you want mindless obedience, bind me with magic and feed off me like a leech.”
Shadows coiled around her, the air vibrating with her anger.
I pushed to my feet, water splashing noisily. Lallakai raised her emerald gaze to me as I stooped to pick up my switchblade, the steel glinting among the brown pebbles. Retracting the blade, I tucked it in my pocket, then turned and limped away.
The Lady of Shadow and her druid said nothing else as I moved down the shore, hardly feeling the sharp rocks under my bare feet. The same sharp rocks dug into my bruised knees as I knelt.
Carefully, gently, I turned Ríkr’s body over and straightened his bloodstained wings.
A pale blue eye cracked open. You’re alive, dove.
My heart lurched. “That’s my line.”
It would take more than a bite from a kelpie to end me.
“You look about three seconds from death.”
Looks … are deceiving.
A short, shaky laugh escaped me. I pulled him into my arms, gathered him gently to my chest, and curled my body around him, letting the razor-edged terror that I’d lost him slip quietly away.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“That’s the best I can do,” I told Ríkr, knotting the last bandage. His hawk form was more gauze than feather.
The One and Only Crystal Druid (The Guild Codex: Unveiled Book 1) Page 18