Night Huntress Part 8

The energy flowed between the trunks, alive and vibrant and new. The portal had been dormant for who knew how long, for at least a thousand years, and had woken to life a few weeks back. Rogue, independent of the spirit seals, the new portals' opening signaled a breakdown in the energies dividing the realms. Even if we found all the spirit seals, even if we regained the third one from the Demonkin, who knew how long the system would maintain itself?

Aeval, Morgaine, and t.i.tania-the three Earthside queens of Fae-insisted the Great Divide had been a colossal mistake on the part of the Fae, that it had altered the energy holding the realms together in such a manner that backlash was inevitable. Perhaps they were right.

Smoky examined the trees. "The energy isn't stable. I think this could close on its own at any time. We run a risk traveling through it."

"We have no choice," I said. "If we use Grandmother Coyote's portal, we'll have a long journey to travel to reach Darkynwyrd. This should hold up for the trip there. And the trip back. I hope."

The fact that the dragon considered it risky made me nervous. Smoky wasn't afraid of much. In fact, the only real things I'd seen him wary of were the Autumn Lord and-to some extent-the werespiders. But I wasn't about to nix our plans now. I needed that plant. I didn't want to find out what would happen if I disobeyed a direct order from Hi'ran.

Camille shrugged. "We might as well give it a try. If we get stuck over there, we'll just have to find another portal to come home through. It's not the end of the world."

I flashed her a silent thank-you and marched up to the nexus point between the tree trunks. "Here goes nothing," I said and, seeing the others were behind me, stepped into the swirl of light.

CHAPTER 11.

Walking through a portal is a little like putting on a suit of armor and gallivanting between two giant magnets. It's like being torn to tiny bits within the blink of an eye. Then, suddenly the magnets disappear, and a whirlwind spins you back into one piece again. The whole experience isn't really painful, but it's definitely dizzying.

I hadn't been home in a long time. When Camille and Menolly made the trip to Aladril a few months back, I'd been jealous as h.e.l.l. Now it was my turn. Too bad our destination was Darkynwyrd, but at least with Morio and Smoky to back us up, we weren't in as much danger as we would be otherwise.

The smell of the air made me homesick. Usha trees and night-blooming khazmir flowers and the scent of clean. No acid rain, no pollutants in the air save for woodsmoke.

As we traipsed out of the portal, I found my thoughts turning to Father. Where was he? Lost, like Trillian. That much we knew. But was he safe? Hurt? Captive? His soul statue was still intact, which meant he was alive, but other than that, we had no idea where our father had gotten himself to or what he was doing. Aunt Rythwar was missing, too.

Our family had been torn apart by Lethesanar's drug-crazed civil war, and all we could do was hope that the Queen's sister, Tanaquar, won the battle for the throne soon and put Y'Elestrial to rights. Considering everything Lethesanar had put our family through, a dark little part of my heart hoped she'd end up with her head on a pike at the hands of her own torturers. I tried to shake it away, but I couldn't help the way I felt. I just didn't like the way way it felt. it felt.

Once outside the portal, we found ourselves in a narrow strip of gra.s.sland that lay between the lower foothills of the Qeritan Mountains and Darkynwyrd. The Qeritan range divided the Shadowlands from the Elfin lands.

Considering the nature of the Shadowlands-and the Southern Wastes beyond them-the elves were lucky the mountains formed a barrier. As it was, they kept a tight watch on the mountain pa.s.ses during the summer. Winter offered a reprieve. Few travelers could safely make it through the tall peaks. Anybody from the southwest who wanted to visit Elqaneve was forced to take the long way around, and the long, arduous trip wasn't worth the trouble to most raiders looking for a minor skirmish.

Smoky glanced around and immediately wrinkled his nose. "I smell a wyvern. Filthy imposter." He frowned. "It pa.s.sed this way a few hours ago. Wyverns move quickly, so it should be long gone. I hope."

"Not looking for a strafing battle, eh?" I blinked, a.s.suming an innocent smile as he shot me a withering look.

"Not looking for a battle at all, thank you." He moved toward the back. "I'll cover our backs. Morio, you a.s.sume the front, along with Iris, since she knows what we're looking for. Delilah and Camille, take the middle ground."

Morio obeyed without question. He'd obviously accepted Smoky as the alpha male. I wondered just how the whole marriage thing would play out for Camille when-if-we found Trillian.

Iris made her way up beside Morio. She nodded to the youkai. "I'm ready. I know what Panteris phir Panteris phir looks like, but I can guarantee you that we won't see a single plant until we near a stream or pond. It grows near water in the thick shade, so we'll have to enter the forest proper in order to find it." She had donned a pair of thick leggings and a tunic that reached to midthigh. She was wearing a leather vest, leather knee and elbow pads, and she'd dug up an old bicycle helmet. looks like, but I can guarantee you that we won't see a single plant until we near a stream or pond. It grows near water in the thick shade, so we'll have to enter the forest proper in order to find it." She had donned a pair of thick leggings and a tunic that reached to midthigh. She was wearing a leather vest, leather knee and elbow pads, and she'd dug up an old bicycle helmet.

"You look ready for skateboarding," I said, shooting her a grin.

Iris rolled her eyes. "Don't laugh. It can get rough over here, especially around this area. I'm not the best in a fistfight, and though I'm not that that fragile, I fragile, I can can get hurt. I figured the leather and helmet would offer me some protection in case we run into trouble. Camille, did you bring the unicorn horn with you?" get hurt. I figured the leather and helmet would offer me some protection in case we run into trouble. Camille, did you bring the unicorn horn with you?"

"No," Camille said with a shake of the head. "I didn't want to bring it over here. There are too many mages here who would happily kill me to get hold of it. I hid it in Menolly's lair for the day. We shouldn't need it. There aren't any demons over here. At least not of the caliber we're facing Earthside. And we can mop the floor with goblins and their ilk."

Iris nodded. "Good thinking. Well, let's get moving. I've never been to Darkynwyrd in all the times I've visited Otherworld," she added.

"You were born and bred Earthside," Morio said. "Like I was. When did you first come visiting over here? I'd barely heard of it until Grandmother Coyote summoned me over from j.a.pan."

"I'd like to know the answer to that, too. Iris seems to have a lot of secrets hidden behind those winsome eyes," I added with a grin.

Iris glanced back at me and snorted. "That I do, my girl. Consider I'm much older than you-well, chronologically. We Talon-haltija live a long, long time, like many of the full-blooded Fae, and I've reinvented myself several times over. Or rather, my life has been reinvented for me.

"As to Otherworld," she continued, lowering her voice, "I found out about this land when I was very young. My . . . a friend from long ago in my past used to bring me here on picnics and for visits. He was born here. We met in the Northlands." She fell silent, and I recognized the look. We'd get no more information out of her on that subject.

As we approached the shadow of the tree line, a strange silence fell over the strip of meadow that acted as a natural boundary for the edge of the forest. I could still hear the birds singing away in the trees, but they sounded strangely muted, as if somebody had turned down the volume on the stereo.

Most forests in Otherworld were warm and welcoming. Darkynwyrd was another matter. Silver fir and alder, willow, yew, hemlock, and elder, the trees were all sentient, and they were all watchful, keeping guard over the dusky forest. Their trunks were tall and broad, with burls in the gnarled bark that looked like faces. They watched as we entered, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I scooted close to Camille, who silently reached out to take my hand.

The branches stretched over the narrow pathway, forming a lattice above us, a canopy of leaves and boughs. Emanating a slightly fetid smell, they were thick with webs strung between the limbs.

Leshi spiders thrived in the arboreal garden, and here and there I caught sight of the fat, shiny orb weavers. The size of a silver dollar, they were slick, with jointed legs and round abdomens, and their venom could paralyze a grown man. I'd heard tales of lone wanderers who had entered the forest and stumbled into webs strung across the path, their skeletons later found hanging in a coc.o.o.n of spider-silk. Darkynwyrd wasn't safe for solitary travelers unless they possessed strong magic or, at least, strong talismans for protection.

Scattered among the trees were large patches of th.o.r.n.y brambles and skunkwort, yungberry bushes-the berries were often used in magical trance work-and eisha flowers, which were harvested for love and l.u.s.t potions. Darkynwyrd was a treasure trove of magical spell ingredients and herbal remedies for healers and witches and sorcerers, but the trip to harvest them could be a dangerous one. The leshi spiders were bad enough, but the forest was also thick with venomous snakes and sharp-toothed wyrerats. And then there were the goblins and trolls and other, darker beings.

Just the knowledge that we were journeying into the forest our father had warned us never to enter was enough to set me shivering. I clutched Camille's hand, trying to stave off my nerves. She looked all too calm and collected.

I frowned. "Aren't you scared?"

She shook her head. "There's tension here, yes, but consider what we've been through this past year. What could be worse than facing down demons? Than facing Dredge? Or Kyoka? Goblins are a nuisance, but we can kill them easy enough. Trolls? We took out two dubba-trolls just a month or so ago. I've been practicing death magic. And look at you: You've been marked by the Autumn Lord. You've faced one of the Harvestmen himself. Why should you be afraid?" She laughed. "I'm more worried about running into Lethesanar's armies than I am about what dangers we face here."

I stared at her, thinking she was sounding more and more like Menolly every day. But she made a good point. After what we'd already been through, why should I allow a simple forest to scare me? And we had Smoky with us. The dragon would never let anything happen to Camille without wiping out the enemy first. He'd burn down the entire forest rather than let it harm his prize.

With a snort, I said, "You're right. I guess it's a holdover from childhood. All those years we were warned never to come here, never to venture into the dark wood. Father couldn't have foreseen where we'd be today." I drifted off, thinking for a moment. "Do you think we'll find him? That we'll ever see him again?"

Camille sobered. "I don't know, Kitten. I hope so, I desperately want to believe we will. Just like I have to believe that I will find Trillian. If there's no hope, then what good is it all? We can't ever let our guard down, but we have to hold on to the belief that we'll be reunited with the ones we love. And look-cousin Shamas found his way to us. We thought he was dead, but he's fine, and he's on our side. If someone targeted by an a.s.sa.s.sin triad of Jakaris can survive, then Father and Trillian have to be able to fight their way back to us."

Morio glanced back at us. "Trillian is far more savvy than you think. He's a survivor. Whatever happened, you can bet that he'll get out of it and take control of the situation. Remember, he lived in the Subterranean Realms for years before the entire city of Svartalfheim relocated to Otherworld."

As we trekked through the woodland, which stretched for a good two hundred miles before opening into the Shadowlands and the Southern Wastes, I fell into the rhythm of the forest. If I closed my eyes, I could feel it breathing around us. I sank into the cadence of Darkynwyrd's pulse and slowly let go of Camille's hand. She was right. What did we have to fear? We'd hardened up since we first left Otherworld. We were far more dangerous, far less trusting. It was harder to catch us in a trap and harder to take us down.

In some ways, we were walking in our own shadow land back over Earthside. The majority of humanity had no idea how close to danger their world was. And we were standing on the front lines, holding off the battle. We'd lost our sense of what it meant to be carefree when Menolly was first turned. Dredge had ended our hopes for a normal life.

And then, when we were a.s.signed Earthside, we'd run smack into Demon Central, and any lingering Cinderella dreams had vanished like so much smoke. We were the true dangers here. Dangerous to any of the creatures who might seek to stop us, to interfere, to harm us. I straightened my shoulders and took a slow, clear breath.

"I smell water," Iris said, pointing to the right. "Can you hear it?" she asked me. "Your hearing is better than mine."

I listened, and so did Camille. There, faint but definite, the sound of water lapping against the sh.o.r.e. "Yes," I said. "I don't know if it's a stream or pond, but I hear it."

"I smell it, too," Camille said. "It's not a stream; it smells like lake water."

I moved up beside Iris and stared at the veritable fence of undergrowth that we faced pa.s.sing through. "Stickers and briars. Lovely. Should we go on and hope we find a clearer trail ahead?"

She shook her head. "I have the feeling no matter how far we go, we'll have to wade through the thicket to get to our prize."

Morio agreed. "It probably just gets worse the farther you head into the forest. And we don't want to be here when it gets dark. Or at least, I don't." He glanced nervously over his shoulder. "It's one thing to battle it out in the daylight, but night brings out the undead, and I can feel them here. The wood is thick with spirits."

"Okay, then. Let's do it," I said, turning to Iris. "Since I'm taller, let me go first. Morio, move back with Camille. I'll break the trail."

I pushed ahead into the thicket, using my silver dagger to sweep aside the brambles. Iris was faring pretty well; the leather of her vest and knee pads didn't catch on the thorns, but some of the brambles were at eye level with her, and I had no intention on letting her get an eye poked out on my account.

I glanced over my shoulder. "Smoky, keep a close watch on the back end. We don't want anybody sneaking up on us when we're caught in a patch of thick thorn bushes."

As I plowed through the brambles and waist-high ferns, it occurred to me that, as nervous as the forests over Earthside left me, they were a walk in a nicely groomed park compared to Darkynwyrd. Camille had gone a long way to calming my fears of the wild wood, but I wasn't stupid enough to blow off the dangers that we faced coming here. We might have a dragon with us, but should a wyvern come screeching down from the skies, we'd have a fiery battle on our hands, and none of us would come out the better for it, Smoky included.

As I brushed my dagger through one patch of berry bushes, the faint sound of chanting echoed to my left. Somewhere, up ahead, somebody was singing. Or . . . they were casting a spell. I slowed, motioning for everybody to be quiet, and gestured for Camille to join me. As she slipped up beside me, I nodded to where I heard the chanting coming from and whispered, "What is it? Can you tell?"

She closed her eyes, listening. I could sense her reaching out on the astral, trying to touch the magic. She must have made some sort of contact, because she jerked suddenly, her eyes flying open. She clapped her hand to her mouth and stumbled back into Morio's arms, as he kept her from falling.

As soon as she had regained her balance, she whispered frantically, "We have to get out of here. Now. No time to explain. Either turn back or turn the other way."

Undecided-we'd come so far already-I finally turned to the right and plunged ahead, forging through the undergrowth as fast as I could. Whatever it was, it was bad, because Camille didn't spook very easily.

We'd forged on for another ten minutes when there was a shift in energy, and the already-dim path grew darker, the sunlight blocked by a great shadow. I jerked my head up, expecting to see a wyvern winging overhead, but there was nothing there. Just a shadow. A gloom that rested between us and the latticework of sky shimmering between the tree branches and webs.

"What is it?" Iris said, her voice low.

"I don't know," Camille said. "I sensed . . . back there I sensed something connected to the Corpse Talkers. It felt like some rite. Trust me, we do not want to witness whatever dark rituals they pursue."

"Corpse Talkers?" I shuddered.

Lips to lips, mouth to mouth, Comes the speaker of the shrouds.

Suck in the spirit, speak the words.

Let secrets of the dead be heard.

As children, we'd sung the rhyme to chase away the bogeys, but like so many nursery rhymes, legend had its foundation in fact.

Only the women of their race ever became actual Corpse Talkers. Only the women were ever seen. It was rumored the mysterious race of misshapen Fae lived in some underground city built of bone and ash. Able to speak for the dead, Corpse Talkers offered their services for a b.l.o.o.d.y price, and they were worth every penny-worth every heart that they ripped from the victims to seal their communion with the dead. Always cloaked in long robes, only their glittering eyes showed through the gloom of their hoods.

"You'd better stay well away from them," I told Camille.

Witches and Corpse Talkers dare not touch one another. If their powers collided, the resulting sparks could produce an explosion big enough to blast a good-sized crater in the ground. Along with good-sized shrapnel wounds in anybody who happened to be near.

As I spoke, the shadow grew larger, looming closer over our heads. h.e.l.l, and double h.e.l.l. Please, don't let it be one of the Corpse Talkers. We had no idea how they journeyed. They might be able to fly, or teleport, or maybe even run as fast as Superman for all we knew. What I did know is that stumbling in on one of their private rituals in the middle of Darkynwyrd couldn't be good.

The sound of water grew louder, and I caught a glimpse of an opening up ahead. We were almost through this patch of undergrowth. With a glance at whatever apparition was tailing us from above, I poured on the speed. I could hear Iris struggling to keep up. She was fast, but she couldn't match my stride.

With a sudden grunt, Iris said, "What the-"

I swung around, dagger at the ready in case she was being attacked, but just then Smoky pa.s.sed by me, Iris hanging over his shoulder, a surprised look on her face. Camille pushed me forward.

"Hurry, let's get out of the wood. Whatever's winging overhead means us no good, I can tell that from here. We have to be able to-Oh s.h.i.t!" She jumped back as the shadow took a nosedive and landed right in front of her.

Whatever it was, was transparent, but enough ripples in the air told us where where it was. I could see the faint outline of wings, as well as a tail, before it took a swipe at Camille. She jumped back, landing in the middle of a briar patch. it was. I could see the faint outline of wings, as well as a tail, before it took a swipe at Camille. She jumped back, landing in the middle of a briar patch.

Morio tossed his bag on the ground and began to transform, towering up and over all of us, even Smoky. Eight feet tall, the youkai was letting go all the stops as he shifted into his natural shape.

Camille steadied herself and began to call down the Moon Mother. The Moon Mother was stronger here for my sister than back over Earthside.

A blast of energy shot forth from her hands toward where the intruder was standing, hitting him square in what looked probable to be his torso region. It was still hard to gauge whether the creature was bipedal or not, but then the blast ricocheted off the creature and landed in a patch of dry wood to the south and burst into flames.

"c.r.a.p! Fire!" I lunged forward but stopped when our opponent began to shimmer into sight. The energy ball must have disrupted his invisibility, because we were suddenly facing our opponent-and one h.e.l.l of an opponent it was. A weird crossbreed, he looked to be. A centaur with huge wings. His parents must have been one heavy-duty mixed marriage, I thought, moving forward, dagger high and ready.

Morio engaged him from the front as I approached his left flank. As the youkai grappled with him, locking grips with the muscle-bound arms of the winged centaur, I swiped my dagger alongside the silken brown fur of his b.u.t.t. A long gash opened up under my blade, and he roared. I was about to lunge again when he raised his back left foot and let fly, hitting me square in the gut and knocking me back. I flew through the air to land at the foot of a yew tree.

"Delilah! Are you okay?" Camille swung around.

I couldn't answer-he'd knocked the wind out of me. As she made her way to my side, Smoky came racing back, a blur of white and silver as he dragged his claws across the right side of the beast, leaving five long, b.l.o.o.d.y gashes in his wake. Iris was right behind him, chanting something as she pulled out a small box and opened it. She swallowed whatever was in there, then blew in the direction of the battle, and a hailstorm of ice began pounding the s.h.i.t out of the three men: Smoky, Morio, and our adversary.

Morio backed away, and Smoky ignored the hailstones as if they were dust mites, but the centaur let out a loud groan and froze, a thin layer of frost covering his body.

Smoky glanced over our way. Camille helped me up, and my lungs seemed to be working again, though my stomach felt like it had French-kissed a sledgehammer.

"We don't have much time. Kill or capture?"

I thought as quickly as my pain-racked gut would let me. What would Menolly do? The centaur might be able to give us some information, yes, but he'd attacked first rather than ask us who we were and why we were here. I swallowed the feeling of guilt that rose in my chest.

"Get rid of him. He won't talk to us. He was out for the kill, and he's not going to make any deals. Even if he did, how could we trust that he wouldn't hunt us down again, this time with a few more of his buddies?"

Smoky nodded. I could tell he approved. The same with Camille, and Morio . . . and Iris. I turned away, feeling older, feeling too harsh for my skin. This was what it meant to be a soldier. This was what it meant to be in a war. Shoot first, ask questions later. Take no prisoners. The one time we'd tried-with Wisteria, a floraed member of the dryad family-things had gone horribly wrong. She'd escaped and led Dredge to us. And that had been beyond bad.

I swallowed my fear and turned around. "Wait. I should do it."

They looked at me, and I could see concern filling Camille's face. "Are you sure, Delilah?" she asked.

I bit my lip, glad she hadn't used my pet name. "I've killed before. It's not like I don't have blood on my hands. I have to get over being squeamish. I have to accept that we're never going to go back to the days when life was gentle, when Mother was alive and there to cushion all our problems. You tried, Camille. The G.o.ds know, you tried so hard, but you can't stand between us and the horrors we now face. You're only one woman . . . and the dangers are so great . . ."

She reached up to cup my face with her hands. "Kitten, we've never faced life without pain, even when Mother was alive. We were always beat up, always picked on. We've never known gentle. Let's face it, gentle isn't in our nature, and it's not in our destiny. We have to take those moments when they come, hold them dear, and enjoy them because they're ephemeral and fleeting." She motioned for Smoky to join her.

Morio had shifted back into his human form, and he gave me an encouraging smile.

Stepping up to the winged beast, I looked into his eyes. He was still frozen, still paralyzed by Iris's spell. I looked for something to stay my hand, some sign that he might have made a mistake. But then I saw the light there: the treacherous light that filled the eyes of the goblins and demons and other shadow-bound creatures we faced. His teeth were sharp, pointed, like a row of needles, and I understood then.

He really was hunting hunting-for his dinner. He was a sentient beast, and in this jungle-in this woodland-it was eat or be eaten. I placed my dagger against his neck and swiftly slashed across the skin, wanting to scream as I did, wanting to shout out, "This isn't me!" but I knew that it was. This was who I was This was who I was.

Delilah of the silver blade, Delilah, the Death Maiden; Delilah, the Night Huntress who prowled in the dark under the moon. I had always skirted my predatory nature, but when I was in my cat form, it came to the surface. And in panther form, it roared to life. As much as I tried to avoid thinking about it, I loved the chase. I loved the hunt.