Sorceress Hunting (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 3) (8 page)

Gregory snorted and then waved a hand at the few drops
of blood. They shimmered for a moment and then misted away.

“You were able to do that without an order.” It was
more question than statement.

“It is part of my defensive magic. Your earlier order
is still in effect.”

Lillian sighed, and nuzzled him. Then another unhappy
thought caused her stomach to tighten. “But how much blood did you leave in
that field. They will scour every blade of grass for evidence.”

Gregory stretched out his injured wing to show it had
stopped bleeding and was already healing. “And they will find nothing of
interest. I ordered my magic to eradicate any drops left behind, no matter how
far away.”

Not surprising. Her gargoyle beloved always seemed to
have every contingency covered.

Lillian broke away from Gregory’s warmth.

“Come, we’re not far from the saw mill where the Wild
Hunt gathers. We can rest there for a short time before we make a run for home.

Gregory agreed distractedly, his faraway look saying
he was already thinking up further contingency plans.

Lillian’s right hand drifted to her belly for a moment
before she dropped to all fours and broke into a trot, following Gregory into
the forest.

There was one event, should it come to pass, which
even Gregory might not know how to handle. She hoped she never had to find out.

Commander Gryton watched the unfolding spectacle with
what might have been a spark of humor, had he possessed such a weakness. His
lips compressing, he unfolded his arms and pushed off from the brick wall at
his back. He’d watched the Avatars, both in fully gargoyle forms, lead the
soldiers of the human army on a merry chase.

Clearly, the female half of the pair was not yet
familiar with her gargoyle body. He was certain what he’d just witnessed was
her first attempt at flight.

The Avatars were not what he was…expecting. He knew
their reputations, the past feats which would give even the most powerful of
beings pause. Yet, he saw little of the awe-inspiring personality apparent.

He’d known the Sorceress when she’d been a child.
She’d been a somber little thing. Obedient to her dryad mother and the Battle
Goddess’ edicts. At the time, she’d been too young to be able to tap into her
powers as the Mother’s Sorceress, and the Battle Goddess had falsely assumed
the demon seed sufficient to keep her docile. The obedience proved an illusion.
She’d only been biding her time until her protector matured and rescued her.

Gryton had had reason to avoid the child Sorceress as
much as possible. His continued survival hinged upon the Avatars’ ignorance.
Yet, many times, he’d wondered almost hopefully if the female half would
recognize him for what he was.

Of course, she never did.

What the Divine Ones deemed a violation of their rules
was dealt with swiftly and with no compassion. Even their Avatars were not
immune to their judgment. So it wasn’t a surprise the Avatars did not know him.

The Divine Ones had stripped that knowledge—a whole
lifetime—from their Avatars.

Lillian and Gregory didn’t remember one moment of
their last incarnation. Certainly not the one fatal moment of weakness which
nearly cost them everything. A mistake which had changed the course of all
three realms.

That was the start of Gryton’s own personal misery. He
didn’t serve the Battle Goddess because he wanted to. He suffered her rule to
survive. Only her power protected Gryton from her Twin.

Oh yes. Never could he forget, not for one moment,
that Death had been ordered to destroy him. And Death never gave up the hunt.

So Gryton served the Battle Goddess—for now, and he
would remain loyal until she got from the Avatars what she needed to bring
about her own Twin’s downfall. Once Death was out of the way, she planned to
challenge the Divine Ones with the help of an army of creatures possessing
god-like powers bred from their Avatars.

It was an ambitious plan. One he personally thought
had no hope of success. Surely the Avatars wouldn’t repeat the same mistake
which had earned the Divine Ones’ infinite wrath a second time?

Yet, to judge by recent events transpiring in this
realm, it seemed they would. How foolish the Avatars were made by their love
for each other. Now there was an emotion he vowed never to feel—and be brought
low by.

Fate was drawing him forward, and he would consent to
be the instrument that helped the Avatars find their doom if it would ensure
his own survival.

First, he had a little clean-up to do.

Gryton walked through the middle of the human’s
military camp, concealed by his magic. The last thing he needed was to be
discovered by any of the Avatars’ allies that might be spying on the mortal’s
camp.

In truth, he merely wanted to accomplish what he’d
come to this realm to do in the first place, and then leave it behind.
Regrettably, something here in the human’s encampment needed his attention
first, a loose end in need of tying.

Gryton made his way deeper into the camp as it buzzed
with activity.

None saw him. His power was different than a
gargoyle’s shadow magic, more mind than body. As he continued to direct the mortals’
attention away from him, he felt the slight drain on his magic reserves.

He strolled into their main building, past two guards
and several devices. The devices noted his passage and set up a racket, beeping
and wailing loud enough to be heard even in the Spirit Realm. Without a glance
behind, he hastened his step. His instincts focused solely on the bit of
blighted, rotting darkness which passed for a Riven’s soul.

Mindless slaughter was always an affront. If one was
going to kill, there should be some purpose behind the effort.

He would do this Realm a single service.

Following the taint to its source, he found himself in
an open area. Oval in shape, a clear barrier about twice his height encircled
the entire area. Situated just outside that odd barrier, rows of seats marched
up the sides of the building, halfway to its ceiling.

He didn’t know what the building had been before the
human military had repurposed it—an amphitheater perhaps? Not that it mattered.

Before him, in one of the clear square cages was what
he’d come for. The last Riven still in existence.

He approached the three cages in the center of the
floor and bypassed the first two with their sleeping occupants.

The Riven hissed at Gryton. He ignored the act of bravado
and came closer. When he was a body length away, panic set in and the beast
launched itself at the back wall of its enclosure, clawing madly at the
surface. The substance was too hard and thick, and the beast merely damaged
itself in its escape attempt.

Gryton tapped a finger against the clear surface, the
metal talons of his gauntlets sounding loud in the silence. When that failed to
penetrate the Riven’s panic maddened mind, he cleared his throat.

“Turn and face judgement, unfaithful one.”

The Riven froze but didn’t turn around.

Well, at least he had its attention. Gryton’s lips
pulled back in a smile, though the beast couldn’t see the expression.

“Were it not for your kind’s interference, the Battle
Goddess’ plans may well have borne fruit. But your greed—the attempt to sacrifice
the female half of the Avatars for your own gain—led to her being placed in her
accursed hamadryad to heal.”

The Riven hissed.

Gryton narrowed his eyes. He should just kill the
creature now, but the days of torture he’d endured when the Battle Goddess first
learned the Avatars had escaped her clutches required payment in kind.

He drew a knife from his belt and drove it into the
surface with all his strength. The blade embedded itself in the clear substance
hilt deep. Small cracks and fissures spread out from the center, enlarging as
he fed the smallest trickle of his magic into it.

“So I devised a new way to enslave the Avatars. Before
I finished, they came under attack again. This time, her parents came to her
aid, and brought with them my collars and used them in an unforeseen way. All
because of a threat created by the Rivens’ mindless greed.” Gryton raised his
gloved hand and pressed it to the cage’s surface, feeding more power into the
damaged area. “And so, for a second time, the actions of the Riven allowed the
Avatars to triumph over their adversaries. At least this time, I may be able to
salvage this somewhat. However, you, the last of your kind, will not be around
to witness it.”

He slammed his hand into the glass-like cage and
worked more of his magic into the strange substance. His power ate away at the
hard, crystalline surface, and when the hole was large enough for him to step
through, he did and grasped the Riven in tendrils of burning light.

Flames leaped up from the Riven’s body, quickly eating
inward. Within moments, the Riven was no more.

Gryton stepped from the cage and brushed ash and
energy residue from his armor. The kill held no satisfaction, but at least
those unnatural monsters the Battle Goddess had created were now gone from the
universe.

Why she hadn’t exterminated them herself, he never
knew. Likely because she couldn’t admit to having created such a mistake in the
first place.

Pride. Something he endeavored never to allow to take
hold. Pride, too, was a weakness if it blinded a being so much they could no
longer see the truth before their eyes.

Pride and arrogance and love. They were all mind-corrupting
weaknesses.

He walked past the other two cages with barely a
glance. The deaths of a sidhe lord and a little sprite were normally of no
importance. He slowed and glanced at them a second time. Still, he’d also seen
too many plans disintegrate recently. Perhaps these two Fae might prove useful
one day. With an offhanded wave of one hand, he sent his magic to mark the two
Fae with his power. Both species were long-lived, intelligent, resourceful, and
would make capable servants.

It only took a moment for his power to burrow deep and
vanish from his sight. The spell would remain dormant until he called it forth.
That done, Gryton started back the way he’d come only to halt again before a
wide gate-like door. Sending out small scouting spells, he sighed at what he
learned.

Beyond the gate, three lines of humans waited, their
weapons ready and aimed at him. There was no shouted orders like they’d given
the Avatars. He sidestepped behind the solid support wall to one side of the
gate as they loosed their weapons upon him. Loud riotous noise heralded a storm
of tiny projectiles. They tore through the gate and impacted the wall he was
sheltering behind.

It was doubtful if such tiny weapons could penetrate
his magic-warded armor. Yet, a cautious nature had always served him well.

The onslaught only lasted moments and then it was
over. He doubted if they had exhausted their weapons, more likely they were
waiting to outflank him. Fighting his way free would draw too much attention to
himself. Especially, since he wanted to maintain a low profile until he had one
of the Avatars in his possession.

There were too many humans to use his mind control on
effectively, so he summoned a transportation spell—one he’d already prepared
earlier and stored for later use. Now seemed a good time.

He heard the soft scuff of their boots as they
prepared to flank him. When the first of their number surged forward into his
line of sight, he initiated a secondary spell. His fiery magic raced forward in
greeting. Their screams reached out to assault his ears just as he triggered
the transportation spell. It grabbed on to his essence and then with a jarring
sensation and a moment of vertigo, he was once again in the forest. The echoes
of dying humans faded from his hearing. The small circle of river rocks he’d
attached this end of the spell to smoked slightly as they gave off their excess
heat.

He would plan better in the future. Something as
inconsequential as a pack of humans should not have forced him into using one
of his escape spells.

Shadowlight ran over the ground; jumping, weaving and
darting through the forest with all possible speed. He followed a shallow
stream for another quarter hour until he came to two familiar trees fallen
crosswise against each other. The way they’d landed had created a slightly
sheltered area in the ‘vee’ where the two trunks overlapped.

He’d dragged over some vines from where they’d been
growing along one trunk to create a ceiling of sorts. His little shelter
blended into the surrounding forest well enough. It had the added benefit of
being close to a water source. The small stream held a few fish within its
depths.

Secretly, he was rather proud of the shelter he’d
found.

He stalked up to the shelter, ears scanning for sounds
of movement within. He ducked and squeezed under the vines. Inside semi-darkness
ruled, but his eyes adjusted quickly and he could make out the form of the
human warrior. She laid curled on her side, knees drawn up to her chest.

He couldn’t see her face, but her sides still shifted
slightly with each breath. Now that he was inside the shelter, he could hear
the feeble beat of her heart. She had survived the night up until this point,
but she was very weak. If he didn’t do something soon, he doubted she would
live to see another day. A shiver shook her frame, but she didn’t wake.

Scouring his mother’s memories, he learned cold and
shock could kill as easily as the wounds themselves. He also learned multiple
blood exchanges might be required some hours apart. That seemed odd to his
gargoyle instincts he’d inherited from his father. However, his mother was a
healer, so she might know more even though she wasn’t a gargoyle.

And his mother’s memories told him more of his
gargoyle blood would help the human. He sat on his haunches and studied the
human a long moment and then, decision made, he used one fang to slash open the
skin on his left forearm, following the pale scar from that earlier injury. The
second time hurt just as much as the first.

He rolled the human on to her back, and then used one
hand to pry open her jaws while he held his wounded wrist over her mouth. The
human choked and sputtered weakly on his blood. He hastily shifted her onto her
side until her airway was clear again.

Frowning, he debated his options and settled for just
dripping his blood over her still healing wounds. At least it would help heal
those. A quick inventory showed all but the greatest wounds, three on her torso
and two on her lower extremities, had already healed.

He was just finishing up with the last wound when
another shiver wracked the human’s frame. She twitched and mumbled something in
her sleep.

While the muttering might mean she was regaining
consciousness, the shivering couldn’t be good. If she grew more chilled, it
might not matter how much blood he gave her. She would still die. He needed a
fire. Yes, it might draw attention, but he didn’t have a choice.

*****

Anna awoke with a groan. Moving caused every muscle in
her body to twinge with remembered pain. Not good, so not good. She must have
been hurt. It wasn’t the first time, but whatever happened this time must have
been bad enough to require morphine. Only morphine caused the weird-ass kinds
of dreams she’d been having.

“You’re strong for a little human soldier. I wasn’t
sure if you would survive.”

Little human soldier?

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

One of her morphine-inspired dream denizens sat across
from her, feeding a stick into a small campfire. It was the gargoyle child,
complete with wings, horns, and a tail. Yep. A tail. He was using the deadly
looking tip of said tail to push a large flat stone closer to the fire pit. A
camp kettle of some unknown design sat on top of the stone.

It looked old and rugged, but the etched design didn’t
appear to be from any culture she’d seen.

“It belongs to my father,” the gargoyle said. “I
borrowed it. I think you might have greater need of it. Most of your belongings
were destroyed in the battle, or too contaminated to keep.”

The battle. Right. Nasty vampire-like monsters.
Members of her unit dead. It hadn’t been a morphine-inspired nightmare, not
unless she was hallucinating still. She pushed back the panic and grief and
focused on survival. She needed to keep her shit together for the next few
hours and get back to base.

The gargoyle pulled a pack from a shadowy recess she
hadn’t noticed and rummaged around until he pulled out a large item that was
unmistakably a canteen.

Seeing it triggered a ravenous thirst. The gargoyle
held it out to her. When she didn’t immediately take it, he gave it a little
wiggle. The sound of sloshing water had her fingers tightening into a fist.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. You need the water to
help recover your strength.” He held it closer to her and gave it another
shake.

Suspicion stayed her hand, but he was correct. If she
was going to survive to report back, she needed the water. When he held it out
a third time, she took it. The weight was nearly too much for her trembling
arms. Damn, she was weak as a kitten.

Her second attempt to lift the canteen met with
success. Cold water bathed her mouth and lips, washing away the taste of old
blood.

She took three more swallows and then forced the
canteen away. Thirst demanded she drain the damn thing, but she didn’t, and
carefully screwed the ornate cap back on.

With mild
curiosity
, her fingertips
ran over it, feeling the jewels embedded on the sides.

On the scale of fucking weird shit she’d seen
tonight—the gargoyle across from her was way higher on the list than a strange
canteen.

She started to wipe her hand across her lips and
stopped. Gore from the battle still coated her skin.

“It’s alright. My blood and magic neutralized any taint
upon your skin or uniform. It’s just old, dried blood now, nothing more
sinister.”

Right.

A shower was a luxury she wasn’t likely to see for a
while, even if she managed to escape her new friend and report back to base.
Hell, did she ever want to get back to base and report to her CO. Then this
whole mess could be someone else’s problem.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. What I gave you would
have gone to healing the wounds and ridding you of Riven taint, as such it
didn’t actually replace what you lost. Your own body will need to do that on
its own.”

Her stomach tightened into knots. Just like that he
blasted her naïve thought to bits. Right. She’d gone mad and drank his blood.
That was some fucked-up shit. This was never going to be someone else’s
problem. She had gargoyle blood and god knows what else running through her
veins, soaking into her cells.

She’d seen some bad spots before, but nothing in her
military career had readied her for this circus freak show.

The gargoyle’s mobile ears drooped, plastering
themselves against his mane, his expression one of hurt.

“I’m not a circus freak.” His tone said he didn’t know
what that was exactly.

Tension rippled through her body anew. She hadn’t
spoken out loud. She knew she hadn’t.

“Hmmm.” She forced her breathing to calm. Her pulse
still sped, but her training took over. “You know what I’m thinking.” She
didn’t phrase it as a question, so added, “How?”

“I told you my blood would link us for life.”

Oh hell, that did sound familiar. When she’d been
infected, those monstrous Riven bites leaching their evil into her mind and
soul, she’d been able to feel what that taint wanted to shape her into. Her
mind kept wanting to shy away, partly in horror, but more in disbelief.

But she did remember the gargoyle. He’d given her a
choice. A chance at life.

She couldn’t deny she was healing, and herself once
more. Logically, she was glad it was this juvenile and not a fully grown adult
who had found her. Somehow, she doubted she’d still be alive to question this
mental link he spoke of if an adult gargoyle had found her first. Maybe she
should cut the kid some slack and see what kind of intel she might learn.

“Sorry, if I lumped you in there with the circus freak
thing. I was thinking more about those Riven beasts.”

The gargoyle’s ears swung forward, and he gave her one
of the toothiest grins she’d ever seen.

Lord, those weapons, and this one was just a child.

“Thank you for saving me.” Now, how to go about asking
the next part? “And because of this blood sharing thing, you can read my
thoughts?” There had to be a scientific explanation for all the crap that had
happened in the last few hours.

He came around the fire and bumped his muzzle under
her hand. “No, but we can talk to each other mind to mind. That’s what you did.
I just picked up on it. With training, you’ll be able to control it better.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,”
he said into her
mind by way of demonstration.

Anna held her breath, her mind whirling with all the
possible implications and applications that could arise from his ability. The
ability to communicate mind-to-mind—now there was one tactical advantage the
military would certainly need to know about.

“And this ability is something all gargoyles share?”

“Yes. Most magically-gifted races have the ability to
varying degrees.”

Magical races? Oh boy, once she made it back to base,
this was going to be the debriefing of a lifetime. Or a medical discharge and a
few visits with a head shrink. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” she
said and held her hand out. “Corporal Anna Mackenzie, Infantryman CFB
Petawawa.”

“I am Shadowlight, son of Stalks the Darkness and Born
at the Mountain’s Foot Where the River Runs Cold—but mother says I can just
call her River.”

She committed the names to memory. “Well, Shadowlight,
I will admit I’m interested in what else you can do besides this mind-to-mind
communication.”

Shadowlight launched into the topic, seemingly all too
pleased to have someone to teach.

Whereas she was all too happy to collect intel.

*****

Shadowlight answered her every question and offered
more on subjects she didn’t even know to ask about. He knew he shared more than
he should and that she thought she was plying him for her so-called intel. But
in turn, he was studying and learning about her. Her loyalty and innate goodness.
She was devotedly loyal to her people, but he also knew she hadn’t yet figured
out she was now as much Clan and Coven as she was human. He didn’t know how to
tell her she wasn’t completely human anymore.

Already, there were a few changes he could see. Her
skin had lost its earlier sickly greyish tint, and now glowed a healthier brown
tone which was probably her natural color. Her eyes, once the strange cream and
brown bicolor of a human’s, were now as black as his. Her nails, too, had
darkened like his talons.

He’d bet one of Gran’s cookies the human hadn’t
noticed those changes yet since the gore from last night’s battle disguised her
new retractable talons rather conveniently.

He decided not to enlighten her. There would be time
for that later. As it was, dawn was approaching, and he really should go back
and check on the Medical Technician Greenborrow had ordered him to watch. Guilt
spurred him in the gut. He should have left quite some time ago, but he’d
gotten distracted.

“I must go,” he stated as he extracted himself from
the small confines of the shelter. “I have been away too long. My parents will
come looking for me soon.” Or mind call him, and he didn’t want to be near the
human if they should contact him. They might be able to sense her proximity to
him. Out loud he added. “And you do not want to be found by them or the other
Fae yet. They would consider you a threat.”

The human nodded. “A security risk. Those I
understand.”

“Good,” he said, happy she was so compliant. “I’ll
leave you then, but I will return at nightfall to move you to a safer shelter.
In the meantime, I’ve erected a dome around this site. The magic barrier will
protect you from the elements and predators. You’ll be safe. There is some food
in the pack. Gran made it for everyone. The…trail mix is rather good, as are
the granola bars, and I especially like the peanut butter cookies. Goodbye,
Corporal Anna Mackenzie.”

“What? Wait, but we’re just…”

He didn’t wait to hear the rest and was already
darting into the surrounding forest, summoning his shadow magic as he ran so as
not to give away her location to any other Fae that might be nearby.

All in all, he thought his first meeting with his pet
human had gone well. She seemed reasonably intelligent, and he had high hopes
she could provide the other Fae with valuable insight into the minds of their
human enemies. And he rather hoped she might become his friend. He would like
that.