Feudlings in Sight (2 page)

They slipped past the parking lot, only pausing while Hunter checked on his giant black truck, or what would be his giant black truck the day he turned sixteen. Until then, he only snuck the keys and drove it when no one was watching. He paused, buffing the chrome with his sleeve. “Your baby is fine, dude.” Shane rolled his eyes and Charity laughed.

On the other side of the parking lot was an abandoned warehouse. Beyond that, a long-neglected field that stretched between a square of other empty buildings. The economy had left the area practically a ghost town, which was exactly what the Council wanted. It worked well for Shane and Hunter, too, because there was little chance that Normals would happen to run into them while they practiced. Because
that
would be awkward.

Charity chose her usual mangled piece of metal to sit on. Shane and Hunter stood away from her a few paces, but close enough that they could hear her without making her yell. Shane was usually laid back and he definitely enjoyed having a good time, but in this, he was serious, his face solemn, his eyes dark in concentration.

Hunter was always intense. She didn’t let her eyes linger any longer than necessary. If he ever knew how she felt… and didn’t feel the same way… well, it just couldn’t happen. That was all.

She cleared her throat. “Okay, do you want to practice the ones we learned last week or just start new ones?” She had carefully color-coded the spell book with sticky tabs — spells they had mastered, spells they had practiced, spells that would come in handy one day — she was very organized. And if the Council ever found out she put sticky tabs in a book that was over three hundred years old, they would kill her completely dead.

“Learn as much as you can, Shane. Gonna be hard to find a place to practice in the mountains of Utah, surrounded by Normals.” Hunter idly traced spells in the air, letting them fizzle and die without igniting them.

“Well, alright.” Charity flipped to the red section — spells that would come in handy one day. She started at the top. “This one is called an
Al-able
.” The odd word rolled awkwardly off her tongue. “It’s like… it looks like it’s sort of a flat triangle of flames.”

Hunter and Shane both walked over, studying the spell in the book before tracing it slowly into the air. The spell wouldn’t actually ignite until they lit it with the flames roiling through their blood, but they both wanted to make sure they could do it correctly so as not to explode them all to pieces or something.

“No, no, Hunter. Less harsh lines. Softer.” Charity glanced down at the page and then up at Hunter’s disaster of an attempt. Sighing she laid the book on the metal next to her and pushed herself to her feet. She took Hunter’s hand, trying hard to ignore the way her own blood seemed to explode into flames.
There’s no magic there,
she told herself harshly. “Like this.” She led his hand through the spell until the air smoked and the image burned in front of them. She looked up, got caught in his gold eyes. He watched her, an unreadable look on his face.

It made her heart stutter in her chest.

Before he could say anything she dropped his hand. “Now try it on your own. I can’t do everything for you, you know.” Charity grinned playfully, dodging out of the way as he tried to push her over. She rescued the book from the twisted metal and perched, watching them expectantly. “Go. Do something.”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Give the girl a book and she’s suddenly the boss.” He moved away several feet so he wouldn’t accidentally ignite her. He’d done it before, and Charity didn’t relish the idea of it happening again.

After Shane had healed her, Hunter had about killed him.

She watched them practice the spells for an hour, first just trying to get it right and then igniting it and pushing it away from them. The fire spread out like a flat flame-thrower. “That is cool,” Hunter said. “Nice job, Charity. We’ll definitely use that one day.”

Charity suddenly felt the two strands — from her heart and her mind, tangling around each other, frantically trying to grab the vision that appeared, uncalled for.

A girl, tall, warrior-like, with black boots and red and black hair. She was…
protecting Charity. No, not exactly. She was fighting to get to Charity, screaming like a banshee. The field was buried in smoke and ash and dead bodies. Charity hurt. Her arm hurt, and she looked down to see it hanging at an awkward angle at her side. She was surrounded by Carules warriors, but somehow she sensed that they were the bad guys, and the girl, the majestic warrior who threw Edren flames, was trying to save her.
Charity tried to step back, to see more of the landscape without losing the vision. She’d never done this before, and her invisible hands holding the threads shook with effort.
The girl held Shane’s hand, and together they traced the spell
—
alable
, throwing bright purple flames. Hunter fought like a demon behind them, with another boy who
bore a strong family resemblance to
the girl.

“Charity! Look out!” Charity’s eyes snapped open in time to see Hunter diving at her, red Edren flames shooting past her face. Her scream was cut short as he tackled her, cradling her head in his big hands as they rolled over and over through the dirt. She felt old metal cut her back and her legs, heard Shane swearing and yelling, and then Hunter pulled her to her feet. “Run!” he bellowed.

She spun away, sprinting through the field toward the abandoned building and beyond, Council headquarters. Risking a glance over her shoulder, she saw a tall, blonde Edren leading several warriors as they attacked Shane and Hunter.

Her boys weren’t trained. They didn’t know how to fight, and Shane might not be killed but Hunter could be. She closed her eyes, praying, trying to send a vision, something. Seemingly, it worked. Seconds later, Carules warriors exploded from behind the building in front of her, swarming past her. A portal opened next to Shane and he was pulled through by the Council, fighting off their hands every step of the way.

“Hunter, come on!” Charles bellowed.

Hunter ignored him. He whirled around and raced toward Charity, grabbing her wrist as he caught up to her. But the doorway had already snapped shut so he pulled her recklessly through the warehouse back alley. There, in the shadows, he stopped, breathing hard, and peered around the corner, watching the field. “We’re chasing them into that old car factory,” he said, gasping for breath.

Charity shook like a small dog in a hurricane. Wrapping her arms around herself, she backed against the wall and sank to the ground. Hunter was bleeding profusely from his back, and he was burned in several places. “You got hit,” she murmured slowly.

“Yeah, a little. Shane can heal me,” Hunter mumbled, distracted by the battle in front of him.

Charity buried her head in her knees, willing herself to get up and escape back to the Council headquarters. But she was so tired, and something nagged at her memory… the vision she’d had before the attack. She couldn’t remember a thing about it.

Chapter Two

“How did you know to come for us?” Shane asked. Hunter draped himself over one of the chairs in the Council chambers, watching it with deceptive disinterest. How
had
they known to come? He remembered Charity’s eyes had been glowing, but he hadn’t had time yet to ask her what she had seen. Had she somehow summoned the Carules warriors?

“Sabine saw you, of course. She sent for us as soon as the vision hit.” Sabine, the Council’s favorite seer, sat silently in the back, enjoying the air of mystery around her cloaked figure. In Hunter’s opinion, she wore far too much eye makeup, and the colors made her look like a circus freak.

Charity made a small, distressed noise next to him and he turned toward her quickly, wanting to protect her, wanting to beat into the ground whatever made her upset. She stared at her knees, her white blonde hair falling forward like a curtain.

“I thought Sabine couldn’t see the Prodigy,” Hunter said, dragging his attention away from Charity.

“I didn’t say I saw the Prodigy. I saw… you. And the warriors. Of course,” Sabine snapped, but Hunter could hear the lie in her voice. Something else had alerted the Council to the attack, and Hunter was pretty sure Charity knew what.

Shane paced, throwing his hands around in sharp, angry movements. “We were almost killed out there. Why am I not being trained? I should be the one out there fighting, not our warriors!”

Charles, the head Council member, glanced at Lewis. Nothing seemed to move forward without Lewis’s approval, even though he was missing from his seat half the time. Behind them, Sabine gasped.

“What? What is it?” Charles seemed relieved at the change of subject, hurrying back to Sabine’s side.

“The vision just went blank.” Her eyes were wide, frightened.

Charles spun toward the rest of the Council. “The Prodigy is here. Right outside our door!”

Hunter was on his feet before he realized it, instinct kicking in. He grabbed Shane’s arm as Shane started toward the door. “You aren’t trained, Shane. The Edren Prodigy will eat you alive.”

Shane’s eyes had a bright, manic energy in them. Hunter knew there was no reasoning with him. There seemed to be an instinct in Shane, overpowering common sense, and it would drive him right out that door and into death’s arms. Hunter did the first thing that came to mind.

He threw up wards.

“Are you kidding me with this?” Shane bellowed, slamming a fist against the invisible magic. Sparks flew, igniting the Berber carpet at Shane’s feet, but the wards held. Hunter’s wards always held. No one in the world could get through them, even Shane. In fact, there was no one in the world who had stronger wards than Hunter. Except Shane.

“Sorry, Shane. It’s for your own good. You aren’t ready to face the Prodigy yet,” Hunter told him, but he wasn’t sure Shane could hear him through the wards. Shane just glared, sparks licking at his fingertips.

“What if the Prodigy attacks here? We can’t face him!” One of the Council members, a lesser, lower, whatever she was, and one whose name Hunter had never bothered to learn, was screeching like a barn owl. “We need to evacuate!”

Charles and Lewis exchanged a long look. Decided, they both nodded. “Call for a
saldepement
. Tell them to portal us out of here.”

Since a
saldepement
took two casters, Hunter wondered who was on the other end of that call.

Inside the wards, Shane yelled louder than before.

“Charity.” Hunter turned, looking for her. She stood silently at the back of the room, watching the chaos, her silver eyes glowing faintly. At his voice, she left her spot at the wall and came forward, stopping next to him. He was amazed, always, at the lack of fear in her eyes as they faced imminent death. He could see the panic just below the surface — her rapid breathing and clenched teeth — but she hid it well. “As soon as they open that portal, you get through it. Do you understand me? I’m going to try to wrestle Shane through.”

She studied him for several seconds before she turned to Shane. “Let me in there,” she said to Hunter, without looking away from her cousin.

Hunter had learned when they were about five years old not to argue with Charity. She was smarter than the rest of them combined, and if she had a plan, he didn’t doubt it would work. But how was he supposed to get her in there without letting Shane out?

She waited patiently for him to drop the wards. When he didn’t, she blinked at him, raising a dark eyebrow. “I don’t—” he started, but she raised the other eyebrow. It was a talent he was pretty sure only she had. Without another word he let the ward drop. Shane started forward but Charity fixed him with those silver eyes. “Knock. It. Off.”

Shane drew up abruptly, blinking like he was coming out of a trance.

Hunter felt his jaw drop.

“Shane, you aren't trained. By trying to run out there and fight this monster you are putting us all at risk. Is that what you want?” Charity's voice was soft, calm, despite the Council running around like frightened livestock. If the situation hadn't been so dire, it would have been hilarious — racing in circles, lots of cursing, and surviving several altercations with office chairs. Six of the most powerful Carules sorcerers alive terrified of one Edren warrior. Terrified enough to evacuate their entire headquarters.

Hunter snorted. It was pathetic.

Shane glanced at Hunter. His eyes swept the room, but he didn't care about any of these people. It was when his gaze landed on Charity that his expression softened. Ruefully, he nodded at Hunter. “Sorry, man.”

Hunter shook his head. He understood. He wanted to fight too, and running seemed so cowardly. But if something happened, who would protect Charity?

Shane took her arm, leading her toward the portal waiting across the room. Hunter followed, glancing over his shoulder. The Edren assassin was out there, just beyond that building.

He growled, turning his back on the threat as he stepped through the shimmering doorway. ”Where in the he—” Hunter stopped, glancing apologetically at Charity. “Where are we?” he asked mildly.

“Yukon. Northern Canada,” Lewis said briskly, striding across the frozen landscape to what looked like the foundations of a building.

“Charity's gonna freeze to death.” Shane rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to keep her warm. She had only been wearing a t-shirt and jeans before they left. Now, in the frigid night air, it wasn't enough to keep her warm.

“Doesn't… th-this place kn-know it's summer?” Her teeth chattered.

“We're so far north that I doubt it gets above sixty degrees in the daylight. At night…” Hunter trailed off, watching her shiver. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him and rubbing her back.

He, Shane, the Council, even the Edrens, they didn't feel the cold. They had fire running through their blood, and cold was never an issue.

Charity didn't have that. Sabine, either, but she was draped in a long, sparkly, garish cloak that made her look even more frightening than normal.