Fury Rising (Fury Unbound Book 1) (29 page)

The light dusting quickly became a flurry. I was grateful for my boots. I had bought them specifically because of the traction on the soles—they held firm while I was running and climbing over things. I was trying to avoid falling over a scattered pile of scrap metal, so busy watching my step, that I failed to see the swirl of sand and snow that rose up behind me.

“Fury, dive to the left. Get out of the way!”
Queet swirled past, panicking.

I dove. Queet and I had worked together long enough that I didn’t question when he told me to move. When he said jump, I jumped. He might be whiny at times, but when we were out on a mission, he was focused and always on the lookout.

As I ducked and rolled, the edge of the mini-twister of sand, snow, and rogue magic swept over me. Thank gods the main funnel missed me, sweeping past, because even the edges of the sudden cloud stung with a fury. The rogue magic set off my inner Trace, bombarding me with a thousand sudden sparks that clouded my vision. I reeled, unable to come to my feet, as the shock wave rolled through my body.

Tam and Jason were immediately beside me, Tam on my left, Jason on my right. They helped me sit up as I struggled to gain control of the thrumming of magic that darted through my body like shards of glass ricocheting off every nerve. The pain was incredible and I could barely catch my breath. I felt Tam’s hands on my shoulders and I tried to stop him, not wanting him to put himself in danger, but Jason grabbed my wrists and held me firm so I couldn’t struggle away. As Tam steadily drained the rogue magic, I realized I could breathe again. And then, it drifted off, leaving me charred from the inside out.

“Fury, are you all right?”
Queet was whisking around, his whisper-speak almost a shout.

“Hush! Don’t shout. My head feels like it just got shoved into a light socket.” I struggled to stand. Looking up at Tam, I asked, “How are you? I know that had to hurt because I know what it was like to go through it.”

He shrugged, looking pale but pulled together. “I’m all right. I don’t take on the full impact, so I can’t imagine how horrible that was.” He leaned forward, brushing my hair out of my eyes, his fingers stroking my face. He cupped my chin and gently touched my lips with one finger. “How are you? Really?”

I closed my eyes, swimming in the gentle waves of his energy. As I assessed my body part by part, I could feel the rogue magic slowly draining away. Every nerve jangled. I wasn’t hurting so much as…just jarred. And yet, there was something familiar about the feeling when I reached out to touch the energy. And then I knew. I was connected to the Sandspit in a way that I had never really thought about.

“My mother went through a full attack when she got caught in the rogue magic wave that generated the change in my DNA. I recognize the energy. I can feel it in the core of my being. It hurt, but it also resonated.” I exhaled and shook off the residual twinges. “This…is my birthplace, really, when I think about it.”

“She must have undergone a tremendous amount of pain as the magic seeped into her blood, and into yours.” Tam stood back, assessing me. “You think you’re ready to move on?”

“Let me make certain my Trace is working. And…” I had a sudden, irrational fear that my whip wouldn’t be there—that somehow the magic might have eaten it away. But as I slapped my right hand against my thigh, the weapon coiled into my hands. I turned to the side and gave a practice crack with it. Nothing seemed amiss. Then I brought up my Trace. There were no Aboms near, but the Trace seemed on track and working.

“I’m ready.” Once again, I shook off the excess prickles running through my body. “Let’s get a move on. Queet, thank you for the warning. It would have been so much worse if you hadn’t managed to give me the heads-up.”

“I always keep watch for you, Fury. And I will continue to do so.”
Queet misted into view behind Tam.

“We have to be cautious. It won’t be much longer before we’re out of the Sandspit, but the rogue magic can stir at any time and if it slams you full on, it can be deadly. People have been fried caught in its wake.” Jason ran his gaze over me. “You sure you’re ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s get a move on.” As we headed out again, this time we all kept watch. The flurry thickened into an actual snowstorm, but my adrenaline rush was so high from the rogue magic attack that I barely noticed the chill. I kept my Trace open as Tam led us through the Sandspit. At least if an Abom came in off the World Tree, I’d spot it before it spotted us.

We had navigated around one last heap of slag metal, now covered with a dusting of white, when Tam motioned ahead.

“There’s the edge of the Sandspit, where it meets the Bogs. To get to the Tunnels, we would normally take a right. There’s no path, but my men scouted the area while we rested and found the landmarks to look for. And before you ask, no one saw them. The Bonny Fae can move like shadows when we choose to. But the secret entrance is to the left a ways, well into the Bogs. Then we jog to the right. The entrance leads into what was an old sewer tunnel. From there, we crawl through a shaft where they broke through to the Tunnels.”

“Guards?”

“Only on the main entrance. I suppose they figure nobody in their right mind would venture out into the Bogs, considering they’re even more dangerous than the Sandspit, given the bog-creatures and the quicksand.”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure which is worse—quicksand or rogue magic. Best to arm ourselves now, before we need it.” I pulled out my dagger. My sword was far heavier and while it did more damage, it was more problematic to carry unsheathed. I fought left handed with my dagger, leaving my right hand free to grab my whip. Luckily, I’d been ambidextrous from birth.

Jason readied his blade, and Tam adjusted his quiver to easily reach the bolts. He fit one into the crossbow and set the safety. As we crossed the last stretch of sand dividing us from the Bogs, I went on high alert. This was going to be as dangerous as fighting Abominations, and I had to remember that. Magicians might not be able to devour my life force like an Abom, but they could kill just as easily. Lyon was a freak who had no hesitation about using whatever weapons were at his disposal. We had seen that in the tornado in Bend and the earthquake.

“There,” Tam said, pointing to a large barren oak tree guarding the edge of the Bogs. “That’s where we jog to the left. We’ll have to go directly into the undergrowth, so be cautious. There are patches of quicksand, and most likely they’ll be covered with enough snow to be almost undetectable. Shift to single file when we enter the Bogs, and the lead person tests the ground before moving ahead.”

Jason turned to me. “Do you want to take the lead, since you have the talisman to help you Trace the Thunderstrike? Or will that matter?”

I shrugged. “A few steps won’t matter. The moment it’s within five hundred feet, I’ll pick up on it. Honestly, with as amped as I am, I’d rather one of you goes first.”

Tam motioned to Jason. “I suggest using a long stick to test the ground with. That won’t be a problem given all the downed branches and trees.”

Jason moved to the front and, as we approached the edge of the Bogs, he cast about for a moment until he found a tall, narrow branch that he could easily twist off a tree. It had broken most of the way through and all it took was a turn or two in order to rip the last bit of bark away. He was about to use his blade to cut off the straggling limbs from it, but I stopped him.

“My sword and dagger are perpetually sharp. Let me save the edge on your blade.” I knelt and quickly hacked off the stray branches, then trimmed the top few inches to make it easier for him to wield. “All right. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.”

And so, we headed out of the Sandspit and into the depths of the Bogs.

Chapter 22

The Bogs seemed even more creepy under a layer of snow. It was bad enough trying to watch our footing when the weather was good, but the snow hid all manner of deathtraps, from the quicksand to the Wandering Ivy, to the langchamp cannibal plants. Snow also muffled sound and made it harder to hear if any bog-creatures were following us. The rooftop canopy of tree branches didn’t stop the snowfall. Given that we were into autumn, the leaves had been shedding off the trees for a couple of weeks.

Since there was no path to follow, we worked our way through the undergrowth. Jason walked a few steps ahead, tapping the ground with the branch. Every now and then he would stop when the branch slid into a pocket of quicksand. In some cases, it was a fist-sized hole. In others, we found ourselves skirting larger patches.

Tam walked behind him, giving directions. Even though we were into autumn and snow was falling, the undergrowth was still thick and green, making it hard to see the ground. The night was dark but the silvery sheen to the clouds gave us a faint light to guide our way. Queet swirled around me, keeping an eye out for bog-creatures as we traversed through the undergrowth.

We had walked for about fifteen minutes when Tam tapped Jason on the arm.

“Up ahead you’ll see a huckleberry bush. My men tied a ribbon to it. Make a slight jog to the right of the bush, but not a hard right. We want the large row of cedars on our left until we hit another bend in the road.”

Jason paused by the huckleberry bush. A brilliant red ribbon was tied to it, standing out against the background of green and white. He turned a quarter turn and then headed deeper into the tangle, pushing through the bushes, still tapping with his stick. Every now and then he would pause and hold up his hand as he tested the ground to find stronger footing. Another twenty minutes and we came to another ribbon.

“Where to from here?” He glanced over his shoulder at Tam.

“Make another quarter turn to the right. We’ll come to a clearing in about fifteen minutes. When we reach it, we’ll look for the sewer grate. They didn’t mark it in case anyone from the Tunnels decides to use that entrance. We don’t want to arouse suspicions.”

“Give me a moment to gather my focus. The constant prodding for quicksand takes a lot more energy than I thought it would.” Jason sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes. I could feel the currents of air swish past. Hawk-shifters worked with the element on an intimate level. The swirl of wind and snow rose around him as he abruptly opened his eyes and headed out again. One step at a time, he moved forward, prodding the ground, focusing intently as the snowstorm intensified.

I focused on my inner Trace. As we continued, I found myself listening to every sound around me. The sound of the falling snow, the rustling in the undergrowth, faint sounds that could have been distant traffic…all blended together into a collage of white noise.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jason broke through the foliage and stepped to the side. We had found the clearing.

About twenty feet in diameter, the clearing was circular. I wondered what kept the vegetation at bay. Nothing seemed to grow within the odd space. At the center, a grate covered what appeared to be a tunnel. Three feet in diameter, the grate looked set firmly into place. I cautiously knelt beside it, examining the edges. The rusted spots had been loosened, but it looked like it hadn’t been opened in a while. Moss had grown over the spots where metal met soil.

I glanced around the clearing. “Snow, but no plants? What’s wrong with this picture? The flora of the Bogs usually eats up everything in its way.”

Tam cocked his head as though he were listening to the wind. After a moment, he said, “There’s something odd about this particular space. It feels like a force field, but not to keep people out. It’s…I think it’s to keep the plants out. How strange.”

“Maybe they didn’t want to have to fight the plants every time they come in through the back door, so to speak,” I said.

“No, because this isn’t magicians’ magic. This is something else, but I don’t know what.” Tam straightened up, shaking his head. “Something else has been back here, but I can’t tell what. For all I know, it could be the work of the Greenlings, although I don’t know why they would want to keep this area clear.”

“Do you think there are any traps?” While I couldn’t read anything about traps on my Trace, that didn’t mean the grate wasn’t set to trigger.

Jason pursed his lips, thinking. “Let me look. I have a cantrip that may work.”

Tam and I backed off. Jason crouched by the grate, pulled off his gloves, and held his hands out, whispering a chant in Cast-speak. A faint blue light appeared at the tips of his fingers and he spread them wide. The light filtered out, rolling over the grate. It blanketed the ground, turning the snow that had accumulated a pale indigo, then settled like a thin layer of gel over the metal. Another moment, and it melted away, the snow still as pristine white as it had been.

“No traps. That cantrip would have shown anything, be it magical or physical. That doesn’t mean that once we get into the tunnel, that everything will be safe. But we can at least remove the cover and see what we’re facing.” He slipped on his gloves again and grabbed hold of the grating. As he began to pull on it, the metal let out a grinding sound. “Damn, it’s in there good. I doubt this has been opened for a while. Not long enough to rust up again, but it’s stuck.”