Authors: Cheyenne McCray
Shadow Magic (28 page)
“Princess.” One of the Drow bowed after his gaze landed on Rhiannon. The rest of the men stood and bowed, following his lead, and those Drow who had swords out sheathed them.
Hannah glanced at Rhiannon to see her cheeks redden as they always did when she was called “princess.” Hannah hid a smile but quickly sobered.
All the Elves had the bluish-gray skin of the Drow, some more blue than others. As usual, their hair color ranged from silver to blue to gray to black. Some work black shirts and pants while one Drow wore the same basic warrior gear as Garran.
The men remained standing as Rhiannon and Hannah approached. One of the Drow stepped forward. He appeared very calm, almost serene, something that didn't gel with her notions of what all Drow were like.
“We are the Drow Directorate,” the man said as he swept out his arm, gesturing to the men around the table. “And please meet Carden, King Garran's Steward.”
Hannah followed her instinct to bow from the shoulders as Rhiannon did.
When they raised their heads, the Steward, Carden, gave a pleasant smile and offered each of them one of the four empty chairs at the table. Hannah and Rhiannon accepted, and took their seats.
As soon as Rhiannon and Hannah sat, all of the Dark Elves followed suit and the scrape of Hannah's and Rhiannon's chair legs echoed in the room again. The Drow returned to their chairs in silence. Hannah found the silence unnerving and she shivered.
Carden studied Rhiannon and Hannah. “How is the king? Did he send you?”
Hannah looked at Rhiannon whose expression seemed to say, “It's your show.”
“The king didn't send me.” Hannah was not about to look anything but calm and controlled around these men. There were too many of them for her to announce that Garran was ill. “I need to speak with the Steward and the leader of the Directorate only.”
Dark looks from almost all of the men made Hannah feel like shrinking back in her chair, but she kept her spine straight and her chin tilted up.
One of the Drow had a shrewd, not so pleasant expression on his face. He had silver hair and darker silver, almost pewter-colored eyes. “What you have to say can be said to all of us.”
“No.” Hannah put emphasis on the word. She hoped to the Ancestors that this man with the bad attitude wasn't the leader of the Directorate.
“Sepan,” the almost serene man said as he looked at the silver-haired Drow. “Their request is not unreasonable.”
“I will remain, Hark.” Sepan folded his arms over his chest.
Hannah gave the Drow called Hark her coolest look despite the pounding of her heart. “Are you the leader of the Directorate?”
“I am,” Hark said quietly. “You may speak with me and the Steward.”
“Thank you.” Hannah didn't let her gaze waver when she looked at the man named Sepan, who openly scowled at her. “We appreciate your willingness to accommodate our requests.”
She swore she heard a series of growls from the men although they made no other noise as they pushed their chairs away from the table and stood. How did they
do
that? Including Sepan, the men left silently, but their irritation and anger were palpable. She sure hadn't made any friends in that round.
do
that? Including Sepan, the men left silently, but their irritation and anger were palpable. She sure hadn't made any friends in that round.
When just the four of them remained, Rhiannon and Hannah both took chairs closer to the head of the table where Hark and Carden sat.
Hannah kept her voice low so that the door guards couldn't hear her. “Garran is ill and we've come to find out if any of you can help us learn what's wrong with him.”
Both men appeared stunned. “King Garran is ill?” Carden asked, his voice disbelieving.
“We're pretty sure he'll recover.” Hannah held her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting. “But we don't understand why he's getting ill or what he's doing to cause it.”
“I wondered ⦔ Carden frowned. “Explain. Please.”
Hannah told both men about the disappearance of the Fomorii and how weak Garran had been afterward, and that she hadn't seen what had happened. She went on to describe her capture by Ceithlenn and how Garran had used some kind of silvery power that caused the Fomorii to vanish, then knocked him out cold.
“Is this some kind of magic Dark Elves can use?” Hannah said as she finished and looked at the two men, who looked puzzled. “What's happening to him?”
Hark and Carden glanced at each other. Their gazes returned to Hannah's, and Hark said, “What you have described is no Drow power.”
“Could it be a power Garranâmy fatherâhad that no one knew about?” Rhiannon asked.
“It is not possible.” Hark shook his head. “It is far beyond any ability of the Dark Elves. Even the Light Elves would not have such a great power.”
“And the king should never become ill after using Drow magic,” Carden said. “The Dark Elves do not experience such weaknesses. Ever.”
“Whoa.” Rhiannon pushed her chin-length hair out of her face. “None of this is making any sense.”
Hannah swallowed, feeling like a fist was in her throat. “Then we need to figure out what's happening. The D'Anu witches have attempted to use their divination powers to learn more, but nothing's matching up.”
“Some of the witches have scried things that make the Drow out to be traitors,” Rhiannon added.
Carden's face steeled. “Once the king has given his word, he will not go back on it.”
“Hannah and I both agree with that.” Rhiannon sat straighter in her chair. “So we don't understand these divinations.”
“Do you have some way to help us?” Hannah asked.
Hark studied her for a long moment. “Garran gave of his Drow power to you. I see it in your aura.”
Unwelcome and unfamiliar heat burned in Hannah's cheeks, as if they could see exactly how Garran had given her power. “Yes,” she said.
Hark nodded. “Then we may be able to share visions of the future.”
“How?” Rhiannon asked.
Hark pushed his chair away from the table, stood, and extended his hand to Rhiannon. “We need a more private location for this.”
Carden stood and took Hannah's hand in his for a moment to help her to her feet. His palm was like Garran's, warm and callused. He smelled different, too. Earthy, but with a hint of an exotic spice.
After releasing Hannah's and Rhiannon's hands, Hark and Carden escorted them across the great hall to one of the corridors Hannah had not explored with Garran. More of the blue lichen glowed overhead on the high ceiling of the passageway so that Hannah could see comfortably.
In the middle of the hallway, Hark stopped at a door, opened it, and let them in. Hannah felt a flutter in her chest at being alone with two Drow. She worried that they might not be exactly what they appeared to beâconcerned, considerate, and as anxious as she was to find out what was happening with Garran.
The dim room smelled of unusual spices that Hannah wasn't familiar with. A little like cinnamon perhaps and cardamom. The room was crowded with pieces of furniture jammed up against each other, and bottles, boxes, and other containers covered every surface. A bed took up one end of
the room, but it was nowhere near the size of Garran's or even the one in the room she'd slept in the one night she was here.
the room, but it was nowhere near the size of Garran's or even the one in the room she'd slept in the one night she was here.
Hark led the way to a large pillar in the middle of the room. The pillar was about the size of a dinner plate in circumference but reached all the way from the rocky ceiling to the floor. In the dimness of the room, she thought it was made of polished granite.
“Surround the sight-pillar,” Hark said.
Hannah frowned, but walked up to it. Hark took her hand on one side, Carden on her other, and they held Rhiannon's hands on the other side of the pillar.
“Stare into the stone with the questions we seek to answer. What is the king doing and why is it making him ill?”
The fluttering in Hannah's chest escalated as she stared at the pillar. She pushed the questions to the forefront of her mind, willing somethingâanythingâto give them answers.
Tingles traveled through the hands of the men on either side of her. She tried not to let it break her concentration as she focused.
She almost stumbled back when the stone turned nearly transparent and dark fog swirled inside it. Hannah felt the fog rolling out from the pillar as it touched her and sank into her. At once her senses seemed keener. The cardamom and cinnamon scents in the room grew stronger, joined with something like bay leaf. She thought she heard the throb of each person's heart, their soft breathing, the rustle of their clothing.
The fog flowing out of the clear column settled over her like a shroud and she shuddered at the icy feeling floating into her bones.
When fog no longer swirled in the column, a scene started to take place. Garran stood in the meadow, speaking with the Great Guardian. Their words played in her mind as they spoke and the scene unfolded. They spoke in another language, probably Elvin, but somehow Hannah understood.
The Great Guardian told Garran how he could conditionally give his people what they wanted mostâto walk in the sunlight.
She offered him a special power if he helped in the war against Ceithlenn and the Fomorii. A tremendous power that would allow him to send great numbers of the demons back to Underworld.
Hannah's heart pounded and she could no longer hear anything except the blood rushing in her ears.
It was a “three strikes and you're out” deal.
The first time he used the power he would become weakâjust like he had at the Fomorii cavern.
The second time he used the power he would become illâjust like he had in the battle on top of the Coit Tower.
Hannah's heart pounded so hard it hurt as she heard the Great Guardian's next words.
“The third time could cost you much more. It could mean your life. Only one thing can save you should you choose to use this power thrice.”
He could die? Garran could die? But something could save him?
“And what might that saving grace be?”
Garran was asking in the vision.
Garran was asking in the vision.
“This knowledge could prevent you from attaining it if you know in advance,”
the Guardian responded.
the Guardian responded.
A scream echoed in Hannah's mind as she silently shouted for Garran to say
“No!”
even though she knew his answer already.
“No!”
even though she knew his answer already.
“I accept,”
Garran said with clear authority in his voice.
Garran said with clear authority in his voice.
You bastard, you bastard!
Hannah yelled in her mind.
Hannah yelled in her mind.
“He had no right to make such a choice,” Carden growled out loud. “His people need him more than we need sunlight.”
“We cannot let him use the power a third time,” Hark said. Both men were squeezing her hands so tightly Hannah thought her bones would break.
The image faded away and she started to release the hands of the Drow holding hers when another scene unfolded and they all stilled.
In the darkness, with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background, the Drow were waging a battleâ
Against the D'Danann and the witches.
A man with black hair, blue skin, and black eyes led the battle.
Drow arrows flew, striking D'Danann. Some of the Drow warriors were decapitated by D'Danann flying over their heads and attacking with their swords.
The D'Anu witches were in the middle of everything, using their magic.
“No!” Hannah shouted as she stumbled back and let go of the hands of the Drow to either side of her. She cut her furious gaze from one man to the other. “You
are
traitors! You
are
going to attack us!”
are
traitors! You
are
going to attack us!”
“Vidar.” Carden's jaw was set and he looked furious as his eyes met Hark's. “If he has not already done so, it appears he intends to take a legion of our warriors to battle those Garran vowed to help in the San Francisco Otherworld.”
“We must deal with this at once.” Hark's anger radiated from him as he strode to the door, Carden at his side. “I hope it is not too late.”
Rhiannon and Hannah hurried to catch up to them. “You mean one of your own is taking this other war into his own hands?” Hannah asked, her chest aching even more. “It's not all of the Drow?”
“No.” Carden reached the great hall and shouted orders in another language to Drow guards who immediately ran down one of the corridors. He turned to Hannah and Rhiannon. “You had best stay here where you will remain safe,” he said before he turned and hurried away with Hark at his side.
Rhiannon and Hannah looked at each other and at the same time said, “Like hell,” before they turned and bolted to the black door in the throne room.
“SURE YOU'RE NOT PUSHING it, Macgregor?” Fredrickson stood at the head of the weight bench as he leaned over and spotted Jake from behind. “Can't have our captain killing himself pumping iron.” He added with wry amusement, “I think killing you is a Fomorii job.”
Jake's muscles quavered a little from the amount of weight he had on the barbell. He merely grunted, both in response to Fredrickson and from the power it took to raise the barbell from its rest. He clenched his jaws as he slowly lowered the barbell just above his chest.
Sweat poured down his face and soaked his T-shirt as he shoved the weight up and brought it back down and up again for a few more reps. He'd been working out a good forty-five minutes and he couldn't get the added problems out of his head.
Now that the government and military leadersâin other words the Fomorii in powerâhad lifted martial law, people were already out in greater numbers, meaning Ceithlenn had easy access to all the chow she wanted.
The barbell clattered as he racked it before resting and looking up at the high warehouse rafters. Somewhere Alyssa's owl familiar, Echo, gave a long hoot.
A haunting cry that sent a crawling sensation down Jake's spine.
“Finished yet, Captain?” Fredrickson asked, sounding
farther away than he had been. Before Jake could answer a towel hit him square in the face and he heard the lieutenant's muffled laugh. “I say you are.”
farther away than he had been. Before Jake could answer a towel hit him square in the face and he heard the lieutenant's muffled laugh. “I say you are.”
Jake grabbed the towel and started wiping sweat from his face, neck and arms as he rubbed himself down. Veins stood out on his biceps. In his sleeveless black workout shirt, his eagle, globe, and anchor Marine insignia tattoo flexed with his movements.
It was late, but Jake had needed to work out the frustration of the day. Now the odor of sweat and testosterone added to the familiar smells of wood, the witches' herbs and spices, and the rain-washed scent of “good” magic.
He climbed off the weight bench, pumped up from his workout. The redheaded Fredrickson was wiping off his own sweat but was staring out the door of the weight room. Jake thought he saw one of the witches, but the woman was gone in one blink.
The warehouse was fairly quiet. A lot of the D'Danann were still upâthey didn't seem to need as much sleep as humans, or even the witches.
Jake went still as he heard shouting from the entrance.
“The Drow are attacking at the pier!” came the voice of one of the D'Danann warriors.
The Drow
?
?
“What the fuck?” Fredrickson said.
“Goddamn.” Jake whirled and ran to his nearby unlocked locker where he stashed his handgun and duty belt while working out.
Fredrickson got to his locker the same time Jake reached his own. It took two minutes tops, for each of them to jerk off their sweatpants and climb into jeans, then buckle their duty belts around their waists. Controlled pandemonium rang through the warehouse. Jake and Fredrickson fastened their Kevlar vests over their soaked T-shirts then shoved their feet into work boots.
Jake had a firm grip on his Glock. His heart had already started a rapid pounding and more adrenaline rushed
through him than had been in his body while he was working out.
through him than had been in his body while he was working out.
At the same time Fredrickson and Jake left the workout room, the D'Anu witches flowed from the part of the warehouse where all the bedrooms were. They were fully dressed for the most partâAlyssa was buttoning her jeans and Mackenzie hopping into her shoes. The witches and his officers strapped on their Kevlar vests in a hurry while the D'Danann had already left the building. Most of the witches' familiars were following them.
Jake rushed ahead of his team and the D'Anu witches, taking care when he opened up the door and entered the near darkness. Only a handful of D'Danann remained behind to guard the warehouse.
Shouting, the clang of swords, and other signs of fighting came from around the corner of the warehouse.
“I know I don't have to tell you not to run out in the open,” Jake called to the witches as he braced himself and swept the lot with his handgun. No Drow here. “Be careful just the same.”
“The Drow use arrows as much as swords.” Copper's voice was low, but loud enough for all of the witches and officers to hear. “I've seen them in action and they're deadly.”
The sounds of battle grew louder. Jake and the team of officers and witches stayed close to the side of the building until he could see what was going down.
When he reached the corner of the warehouse, he peered around, careful to stay out of sight. In the near darkness the D'Danann fought men with grayish-blue skinâthe Drow. Even though he couldn't see them, he could tell some of the D'Danann fought from the air because of the sudden wounds that would appear on the Drow warriors, or the way a couple were beheaded.
The sound of metal striking metal rang out in the night along with shouts, yells, and cries of warriors on both sides. Because they were magical, too, the Drow could see the flying D'Danann who were invisible to Jake.
Several Drow warriors stood back and systematically released arrows, taking down a few of the D'Danann. With absolute precision, some of the D'Danann flipped daggers through the air right into the hearts of the Drow shooting the arrows.
Jake's blood boiled despite the cold air rushing at him and chilling the sweat on his T-shirt. He crouched and motioned for a few of his officers to move and take cover behind a couple of SWAT vehicles and an abandoned wooden building. Silently, like the professionals they were, his officers slipped through the night to hide and to shoot from the best vantage point.
Holding his Glock with both hands, Jake swung around the building and fired.
Apparently the heart-seeking bullets worked as well with the Drow as they did with the Fomorii. He brought down two of the Dark Elves in rapid succession. His officers took out a few more. He didn't have time to be too amazed at how the Drow bodies disappeared into obsidian sparkles, but he took a moment's pleasure in the fact.
Good. That meant the bastards were history.
The shots of the PSF immediately brought the attention of a few of the Drow to Jake and his officers. In nearly lightning-fast motions, the Drow fired arrows that drove into two of Jake's officers. Both men collapsed to the asphalt. One groaned and tried to move while the other remained lifeless where he'd fallen.
Fury burned Jake's gut and he fired around the building again.
It wasn't until then that he saw the D'Anu witchesâfive of themâheaded toward the Dark Elves, each witch surrounded by one of their sparkling magical shields that glowed in the night. Some of them had their familiars at their sides.
Thank God the Drow arrows bounced off the shields.
With his knowledge of how the witches fought, Jake was pretty sure he knew what they planned to do. If they dropped
their shields to fight now, they'd be dead. The Dark Elves were too accurate, too fast. Yet he knew the witches weren't stupid and they were damned good fighters. The D'Anu would choose the right moments to use their powers.
their shields to fight now, they'd be dead. The Dark Elves were too accurate, too fast. Yet he knew the witches weren't stupid and they were damned good fighters. The D'Anu would choose the right moments to use their powers.
The D'Danann continued to battle from above, beheading Drow warriors. Gore splattered in the air and on the ground. The smell of blood and that same earth and moss scent Garran had was strongâonly the spice scent Jake associated with the Dark Elves was different with these Drow. Darker somehow.
The Drow shot more D'Danann in the sky. A few D'Danann were killed instantly, bursting into silver sparks. Others slammed to the ground and jerked the arrows out of their bodies. They stumbled to their feet and fought the Drow from the ground.
The magical beings healed pretty fast as long as they weren't beheaded or their hearts ripped or blasted out. So they didn't have to worry about loss of bloodâunless their injuries were incredibly severe.
They were fortunate Drow didn't use iron like the Fomorii. No doubt because iron was just as deadly to Elves as to Fae.
But now all the Drow were too close for arrows and used their swords instead.
The witches waited until then to drop their shields and start flinging fireballs and knocking some of the Drow out, while tying others up with their magic ropes. The D'Anu witches didn't kill, but they knew how to incapacitate their opponents pretty damn well. It would have been a plus if the light from their magic affected the Drow like daylight did, but it appeared that wasn't the case.
The familiars did their jobs, tooâthe Doberman going for one man's jugular; the cat climbing a warrior like a fencepost and going for his eyes; the wolf pouncing on another warrior and driving him onto his back to the ground.
Jake and his officers continued to shoot at the Drow from their positions. Shots rang out through the night along with
the continual clanging of swords, the shouts and cries. There wasn't much good they could do at close range while the Drow used swords, except to continue using their handguns.
the continual clanging of swords, the shouts and cries. There wasn't much good they could do at close range while the Drow used swords, except to continue using their handguns.
One particular Drow warrior stood out from the rest and Jake had his sights set on the bastard. By the way he shouted orders, the large blue-skinned, black-haired man was obviously the leader of this group.
The warrior turned his attention to Jake as if hearing his thoughts. With a motion so fast Jake barely saw it, the man drew his bow and released the arrow. It flew through the air, and even though Jake dove for cover, the head of the arrow buried itself in Jake's right biceps. His gun arm.
Jake gritted his teeth, biting back a shout. He did his best to ignore the screaming pain as he snapped the shaft of the arrow and tossed it aside, leaving the arrowhead in his biceps. Sweat broke out on his forehead.
He kept his back against the warehouse, mentally blocking the pain. He took a deep breath, swung around the side of the building, and fired at the leader before the man had a chance to completely dodge the bullet.
It exploded in the Drow's thigh, dropping him to the ground.
Immediately, Copper bound the big man in one of her magic ropes, pinning his arms and hands to his sides.
In one sweep of his gaze, Jake saw that most of the Dark Elves lay wounded on the asphalt, were bound by the witches' magic ropes, or were likely dead and had vanished into black sparkles.
Jake let out a deep breath. The D'Danann, witches, familiars, and PSF officers obviously had everything under control now.
It still pissed him off how the PSF had to rely so much on the D'Danann and witches, but human methods of warfare didn't usually do a whole lot of good against magical beings.
Goddamn, but he had to find the time to work on designs for better weapons for the PSF.
Keir walked up to the blue-skinned leader of the Drow and raised his sword. “We finish this now,” he growled.
“Hold on.” Copper pushed at Keir's arm. “We should question them to see what in Anu's name is going on. They're supposed to be our allies.”
“They are naught but traitors.” Keir lowered his sword a little, the scar on his cheek whitening, making him look even more savage.
Keir's head snapped up and the expression on his face changed. His gaze cut across everyone in the lot. “Where is Rhiannon?” he said in a harsh voice, his look showing fierce concern for his wife.
The witches and D'Danann glanced around the bloody area. “Hannah's not here, either,” Silver said with a note of panic.
“They didn't leave the warehouse with us.” Jake held his hand where the arrow was buried in his biceps, blood coating his palm, as he walked to where Keir stood over the Drow leader. “I'm pretty sure I saw every witch who came out to fight.”
“You're injured!” Alyssa went to Jake's side and warmth flooded him as some of her magic started flowing into him.
The pain lessened, but the arrow was lodged deep and Jake knew it would be hell to get it out. “Worry about Hannah and Rhiannon,” Jake said through gritted teeth. “I'll be fine.”
“We'll check the warehouse.” Silver's eyes were wide and she looked panicked. “But I don't understand why they wouldn't be here with us.” Silver whirled and practically ran back toward the entrance to the warehouse, Hawk following, obviously anxious to protect his wife.
“Rhiannon and Hannah wouldn't miss a fight for anything.” Copper rocked on her cast, her arms crossed over her chest, an expression of distress on her face almost identical to Silver's. “They are two of the most stubborn and toughest women we know.”
“Let's get this bastard inside.” Jake motioned to the Drow leader with a nod. “We'll see if he knows anything.”
The Drow male growled and glared at his captors.
Keir kicked the Drow, causing the man to shout in pain. “Put him in one of the cages made to fetter magic,” Keir said. “When we learn what we need to,
then
I will kill him.”
then
I will kill him.”
The Drow leader gave a low snarl. “You will not be able to hold me.”
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