Maps, Artifacts, and Other Arcane Magic (Dowser Series Book 5) (21 page)

Warner sorted himself out and joined us as the map shifted to reveal the location of the second instrument of assassination. Or at least to point us in the right direction.

“So in order to have tattooed this on his back, and to appoint Warner as sentinel of the instruments of assassination, the former treasure keeper must have tracked down all the instruments.” Even as the thought was making its way out of my mouth, I knew that everyone else had already deduced that months ago. Not to be daunted by my own insecurities, I forged ahead with the train of thought. “So why not collect them then? And his daughter might say she wants this one in order to harvest the magic from it, but then why did she go after the first one?”

I looked pointedly at Warner. “You said she broke from the guardians because she believed in immortality.” I carefully kept any hint of accusation from my tone … well, as best as I could without also screaming, ‘You said you weren’t an item!’

Warner nodded. His eyes were fixed to the map but unfocused, as if he was thinking.

“But dragons aren’t immortal.”

“No.”

“She wanted to become a guardian, then.”

Warner ran his hand across his face, then through his hair. “She should have been in the line of succession.”

“But she wasn’t?”

“No.” Warner sighed — a heavy, lonely sound that actually hurt me to hear it. I was plainly misunderstanding his reaction to Shailaja …

“You were sure she was dead,” I said. “Because you thought she’d done something for which she deserved to die.”

“I never thought she was the reason for the treasure keeper’s secrets. But yes. I assumed by Pulou’s behavior that she’d met with the edge of the warrior’s blade.”

“The teenager with the shadow leeches is an immortality seeker?” Kett asked.

Warner nodded. I ran my fingers along the edges of the centipede on the tattoo. The dragon magic tingled underneath my fingertips.

“Do you think Pulou knew she was trapped in the fortress of the braids?” I asked. “Which is why you weren’t summoned to her incursion there?”

Warner shook his head. “The timeline doesn’t match. I was appointed sentinel of the instruments before she disappeared.”

“Was your position common knowledge?”

“I assumed so.”

“But you reported to Pulou alone?”

“Yes.”

“Who never expected you to be in stasis for four hundred and fifty years.”

Warner lifted his gaze from the map to lock eyes with me. “No, because he expected an incursion. Possibly multiple incursions.”

“And there was one. By his daughter, Shailaja.”

“To which I wasn’t called.”

“She knows about the map,” I said. “But not how to unlock it.”

I left the rest of the unvoiced questions and observations hanging between us to study the map further.

“Based on this gradation,” Kett said, “we should head for the highest peak.” He indicated a specific section of the green mass the map had revealed as it reformed — which, of course, looked like all the other green masses to me.

“Back toward the silver mines,” I said. “Where magic doesn’t flow properly. With a crazed teenage dragon tracking me. A friend of yours …” –– I looked at Warner, and this time couldn’t keep the accusation from lacing my words — “… whose father went to great lengths to protect the instruments. Maybe from his immortality-seeking daughter? Maybe because she wanted to kill him and assume the mantle of the treasure keeper? Also, for the cherry on top, she apparently knows how to counter the magic that binds you to the location and protection of the instruments.”

Warner nodded stiffly. “Those are … strong possibilities.” Then he crossed to the driver’s-side door of the SUV without another word.

Kett ran his fingers along the edges of the centipede tattoo just as I had done, but he quickly withdrew them.

“Stings?” I asked.

He nodded. Well, he fractionally dropped his chin.

“And the leeches?”

“Were not pleasant, but also not a concern.” He lifted his ice-blue gaze to mine. “I’m looking forward to the next hunt. Our prey is intriguing, and the prize worthy of my time.”

I laughed, though I wasn’t happy or amused. “Let’s hope she knows she’s the prey and not the predator.”

“She will.”

“I don’t think she’s that perceptive.” I folded the map and placed it in my satchel.

“Not all magic is dampened by silver,” Kett said as we circled around to climb into the SUV with Warner.

“Metallurgy,” I said.

Kett grinned at me like I was his star pupil as he settled into the seat behind mine.

“Yeah, yeah, vampire,” I groused. “I do learn, you know.”

“Metallurgy,” he said. “A branch of magic that the sorcerers of Ayar Cachi were particularly skilled at.”

“Ayar Cachi?” I echoed, completely bungling the pronunciation.

“A god of the Inca. Reputably hot-tempered and prone to creating earthquakes.”

“I’m not so into the earthquake idea,” I muttered as I fastened my seat belt. “Been there, done that.”

“Or perhaps the ancient worshipers of Illappa could be involved. A goddess of lightning and thunder. Or a god, depending on what history you subscribe to.”

“How is that any better?” I asked, trying for a teasing tone despite the pit of dread growing in my belly.

“You know this from experience?” Warner asked, a sneer creeping back into his tone as he started the SUV.

“Not directly, dragon,” Kett answered. “But not all elders hide their knowledge.”

We circled the classic Mini that Warner had body-slammed Shailaja into. I knew I was trying to deny the tension building in the vehicle as I said, “I feel bad for the owner, maybe coming back from vacation and finding their car like that.”

“The human police will take care of it,” Warner said, not unkindly.

“I’ll make a call,” Kett said.

Warner snapped his teeth on whatever comment he was about to make. His eyes were riveted to the road as we pulled out of the parking lot and sped away from the airport.

Kett murmured something into his phone, a whisper that sounded like Spanish.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The vampire was stiff competition in every category, and some part of me was pleased I wasn’t the only one irked by feeling inferior.

Warner glanced at me. A begrudging smile curled the edges of his lips and eyes.

“A valuable asset,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” I answered. “Thank God he feels the same way about us.”

∞

The main road to and from the airport bypassed the city, so that I could only see a wash of distant lights as we drove away.

The map led us back the way we’d come and then off-road for a couple more hours. The vehicle was completely suited for the ride — just as I was completely not. Warner kept insisting we were still on a road, but in the absence of pavement, gravel, or noticeably packed dirt, it didn’t seem like any sort of road to me. The pitch dark of the night didn’t help either.

I screamed when we nearly went off a cliff. Warner slammed on the brakes and the SUV barely slid. He kindly didn’t laugh at me.

With our supposed ‘road’ now completely obstructed by a deep ravine, we tumbled out of the vehicle and peered into the darkness that dropped off before us. I couldn’t see a bloody thing, of course, but Warner and Kett appeared to be looking at various somethings. Landmarks, I guessed.

“We walk from here,” Warner said.

“Well, you’re carrying me, then,” I said.

“Anytime.” Warner flashed a smile full of white teeth at me, which I only caught because the SUV headlights were still on.

“Dawn is about an hour and forty-five minutes away,” Kett said as he crossed back to the SUV.

“Will that be a problem for you, vampire?” Warner asked.

Kett didn’t answer right away, so I paid attention. A long pause often meant that the vampire was about to offer up some information that he considered important, or even secret. He might think his elders didn’t keep as many secrets as guardians did, but he was crazily closed-lipped himself.

Of course, he might not answer at all. That happened about 75 percent of the time.

Kett looked back at us, a backlit silhouette in the now too-bright headlights, his face in shadow. “I will persevere, dragon.” He shifted his shoulders as if still thinking, then stepped to block the headlight that was currently blinding me the most. “I was reborn to a vampire who was reborn at the dawn of Christianity, but in a part of the world that the religion had yet to touch. Her sire is older still.”

“The big bad of London,” I said.

Kett nodded. “Some myths and legends tie the creation of vampires to the death of Judas Iscariot. Hence the suggestion that dawn, when Christ rose from the grave, is a time that all vampires fear.”

“Some myths tie the creation of vampires to that of Lilith,” Warner said.

“Indeed they do. But then, you’d also have to believe in Lilith.”

“This is going over my head,” I said. “Vampires are sensitive to sunlight, yes?”

Kett nodded. “Only fledglings, as a rule. And those who were turned when Christianity reigned also avoid churches, crosses, holy water, silver, and dawn.”

“But you don’t believe those things can harm you.”

“I don’t believe that many things can harm me, Jade Godfrey.” Kett removed his lightweight ski jacket and began to roll up a sleeve of his thick, cozy-looking cashmere sweater. “I’m occasionally proven wrong. May I have your knife?”

That was an odd segue. “Sorry? What for?”

“I’ll leave a few drops of blood under the bumper, and you’ll absorb what you collect on the knife into the blade. Even if it rains, you should be able to dowse for my magic to get back here.”

“Sorry?” I asked for the second time. “Are you planning on deserting me?”

Kett just looked at me steadily with his bare, pale arm extended. I looked at Warner. He nodded.

“The SUV is bloody magic,” I said. “I’ll dowse for that if I need to.”

“You are more familiar with the vampire’s magic,” Warner said. He deliberately shifted his feet. “We’re walking where magic isn’t found in abundance. Kett is right to offer this precaution.”

I pulled out my jade knife with a growl that came out more whiny than pissed off. I stepped toward Kett, flipping the knife in my hand so I was holding the blade and extending it hilt first to the vampire.

He accepted the offering with reverence.

I wasn’t going to be the one to lay the sharp edge against his skin and slice open a vein, or whatever he intended to do. I tried to stomp away as he slit his forearm and left his blood behind for me … just in case I was the only one left standing …

Kett’s peppermint magic filled my mouth. I wasn’t able to stomp far enough in the darkness to avoid it — not without risking breaking my neck.

Warner crossed back to the SUV and turned off the headlights, leaving me in what felt like complete darkness. Then the sentinel crossed to me and gently pressed the ignition key into my hand. I snatched it from him, but he ignored my pissiness to run his fingers down my back soothingly.

“We are difficult to kill,” he said.

“But not impossible,” I said.

“You and I are both stronger than we were in London.” Kett stepped up beside me and offered me my knife back. “It is an honor, dowser, to wield your blade. An honor to hunt by your side.”

He slipped off into the darkness along the edge of the ravine before I could figure out how to respond. I could taste his dark peppermint magic coating the blade of the knife. I reached out with my alchemist power and absorbed the drops of blood into the jade stone, as I’d once done with my own blood and with Warner’s. As it combined with all the other magic that sharpened and fortified the knife, that peppermint magic faded. But I knew I could call it up anytime I wanted to now.

Warner hunkered with his back to me. I could barely see him in the dark.

“You’re not going to piggyback me like a freaking child!” I exclaimed. My voice was loud in the vast darkness. Kett laughed somewhere ahead of us.

“It would be my preference to have you where I can feel you, warrior’s daughter,” Warner said. “Not limping and … pissy.”

Hmm, ‘feel’ me? Well, who says no to that? Not me.

I climbed onto Warner’s back. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, stood, and immediately stepped into the darkness to follow Kett.

I slung my arms around the sentinel’s shoulders, making sure to press my breasts fully against his back — which would have been more effective had I not been wearing a bulky ski jacket. Then murmured in his ear, “I like you.”

He growled something that could have been pained, but which sounded closer to pleasure. German words, I thought, satisfied with the tone and the notion that I’d forced him back to his native language. Even if I didn’t completely understand the sentiment.

∞

Our pace was erratic enough that I was actually happy I couldn’t see in the dark. At times Warner would climb for what felt like hours, sometimes in crevices so narrow that the rock on either side brushed against his shoulders. Then we would plunge so swiftly it felt like he was surfing the craggy edge of a canyon.

We stopped three times for Kett to reorient himself and to consult the map. I’d started carrying a compact Maglite in my satchel after the fortress escapade. So I wasn’t entirely useless for this stretch of our hunt.

I should have just allowed Warner to carry me the entire way, spreading the map out on his shoulders when I needed to read it. Except, of course, the map wouldn’t work when touched by a dragon. So, at the first hint of light, I had to be Miss Independent and demanded to be put on my own two feet.

By the time the sun rose, we’d reached a relatively flat plateau but found ourselves stymied and staring at an exceedingly wide mountain peak erupting before us. A mountain peak that appeared impassible — even though, according to the map, we were meant to go through it, not around.

“I can’t climb that,” I said. I was sitting cross-legged on the ground, attempting for a fourth time to decipher the dragonskin tattoo spread across the rock before me. “You didn’t mention mountain climbing when you mentioned supplies, sentinel.”