The Danger of Destiny (35 page)

“You don't have our blood,” Danen said. “Why would you risk your neck for ours?”

“I'm done,” I snapped. “Kill him, Trowbridge.”

“She'll stay because she's decided her people are my people,” said Trowbridge. “That's all it takes, Danen. Once a Stronghold closes a fist around a person's heart and claims it, they'll go to the ends of the world to protect that life. They'll risk everything. They'll face anything. They'll do what must be done. They'll hold.”

Danen cast a look at Lexi that needed no interpretation, then turned to Trowbridge.

“Lexi loves his sister,” said my mate, his tone hardening. “I left her in his care, because I knew that he would have taken an arrow for her.” My mate held Danen's gaze, then moved to mine. “
He
will not betray us.”

Message received. The Old Mage was a different game.

Danen thought; then he sighed and pressed a hand tightly to his side. Awkwardly he got down on one knee. He shook back his dreads, exposing his neck. “I offer you my blood, once more, Son of Lukynae. You may spill it as you wish.”

“We'll need it, Danen,” said Trowbridge. “We're going to walk into the castle, and we won't walk out of it until everyone is free.”

“Mutts too?” said Mouse quickly.

“Mutts too,” I said.

Damn, my own eyes were watering now. Too much flaring, too much emotion. I savagely dried my cheek with the back of my free wrist. “Before you guys start singing your kumbayahs, I want his word.”

Danen turned. “I am yours to command. Yours to—”

“No, not that. That's a given.” I scanned the group. “What I want is to never hear the word ‘halfling,' or ‘mutt,' again. If we make it back to Creemore, none will judge me or anyone else by their blood. You will judge us by what we do. Who we are. Can you all do that? Because that's the price of entry to the promised land.”

Danen stared at me for what seemed like a very long time; then he nodded. “Aye,” he said with a slow smile. “We can do that.”

*   *   *

Danen's irises were an amber brown. His lashes were sparse and his right eyebrow was caked distractingly with dried gray mud, but once the deadly intent was drained from them what were left were kindly eyes.

He nodded to me, as if we were ending a long conversation instead of three seconds of mutual appraisal, then turned to Trowbridge. “Is there a plan?”

“There is,” Trowbridge replied.

“Right, we'll recover our weapons and refill the water skins.” And with that, what was left of the free Raha'ells set about doing just that—all three of them bypassing what was shaping up to be a group-hug moment to break apart into satellites set on a mutual goal.

Rearming themselves. Evidently, big muscles and quick reflexes weren't enough. Brutus picked up an arrow, checked the feathering at the end, and tucked it under his arm. Lily walked past the Gatekeeper's body without looking at it.

I just stared down a Raha'ell. And there's a body pinned to a tree and I'm not even wanting to throw up. Wow. I'm a badass.

Lexi glanced at me, then grabbed Mouse by the shirt. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” squeaked Mouse.

“Lily's going to have to climb a tree.” He pulled the boy over to the fallen leg, pushed him down until he sat on it, then slowly collapsed himself. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “This should be good.”

Lily passed them, showing her front teeth.

Lexi lifted one brow.

Reality was setting in. I jammed my trembling hands deep into my jean pockets.

Trowbridge crossed the ten feet separating us and cupped my face. His right thumb stroked my jawline. “Proud of you,” he said.

I bit down on my lower lip. Held it there, firmly snagged by the pearly whites, until it stopped with the annoying quivering.
Geez Louise. Don't lose all the ground you gained by swooning in front of the troops. Real heroes don't melt in the aftermath of a battle. They raise their paws for a fist pump. They shout, “Hell yeah!”

Trowbridge's fingers tightened almost painfully. “Steady,” he whispered.

His scent swept around me, another set of arms, surrounding us in a fog of musk, and woods, and man, and—oh yes—Trowbridge yum. My lids fluttered closed, and my wolf moaned, and somehow her earthy response slid right up my throat.

I could take him here. Right on the ground.

Only his fingertips touched me. I leaned into them, imagining them moving over me. Touching my neck. Dipping into—

Lily coughed.

My eyes flew open. Trowbridge was staring down at my upper lip as if it were dewed with honey.

“You like my mouth,” I said breathily.

A lopsided, tight grin. “It has its moments.” Suddenly somber, he fingered the limp curl at the side of my neck. “But it almost gave me a heart attack again.”

“You had my back.” I lifted my shoulders. “You would have killed him if I—”

Expression grim, he shook his head very slightly. “You challenged him, Tink.”

“Yeah, but—”

“
You
did,” he repeated.

“But wouldn't you have—”

“Shhh.” My lover turned me around so that I faced the tall tree in the west, then wrapped his arms around me. It gave us the semblance of privacy. The undersides of my breasts rested comfortably on his corded forearms. My mate pushed aside my hair to reveal the tendon he'd once bit down on. He pressed a warm kiss there, then nuzzled my temple.

“If I stepped in,” he whispered into my ear, “you would have been perceived as weak. Not my equal. Someone I fucked.”

Holy crap.

I sagged against him. He was hard as a rock.

“You are one crazy Tinker Bell.” He sounded prouder than a guy who scored a Shelby off a vendor who didn't know their Mustangs.

My heart thudded against my ribs.

The sun was a sphere of fire behind the tall spire in the west. Streaks of it, long slashes of pure gold, tried to reach for us. “There's no holding back the night once it begins,” I said, knowing the cover of dark would be an asset once we were inside the castle.

“No,” he said, and his arms grew tight, tight, tight.

My mouth went dry as I realized a fairly big-assed complication. I rubbed my tongue against my teeth, then asked the question I feared to pose: “Will there be another full moon tonight?”

He stopped nuzzling and half-turned us toward Danen. My mate tipped up his chin in a silent query.

“Tonight's the second night of it,” his second replied. “Tomorrow's the last.”

We'll be wolves. All of us. Four-legged animals can't strike a match to set a book on fire. Lupines are useless with longbows.

Lily scowled at the longbow hooked on a bough high above her reach. “It's poor hunting here. The Fae have taken all the good game.”

“And we'll have to be wearing the mud again,” said a brooding Brutus. “My wolf hates it. It's not natural.”

“We can't—” I began.

Trowbridge said quietly, “Time to talk Plan A.” He gave my neck one more nibble, then moved away. Planting his foot on a rock, he said, “We're not going to answer the moon's call tonight. Each of us will take the juice.”

Brutus growled low in his throat.

My mate didn't even bat an eyelash. In a calm voice, he said, “Every Fae takes for granted that the Raha'ells will turn into their wolves during a full moon. We're going to use that. The Fae won't be prepared for Raha'ells who walk like men but kill like wolves.”

Danen fingered an arrow, then shook his head. “We'll be staggering, not walking. None of us have the head for the potion.”

“Not if we time it right,” replied Trowbridge. “There's a rush after you've taken a swallow, but it passes. Once inside the castle, Mouse will find us a good place to gather what we need for our attack. We'll take the juice then. By nightfall, we'll all have clear heads.”

“They say it makes you stronger.” Brutus's scent was growing pungent.

“A little,” said Trowbridge.

“I stole the juice,” said Mouse, seeking some praise. “Three full bottles. From the store master's locked pantry. Had to get past two guards to do it.”

“How about it, pack? Do we take the sun potion?”

Brutus's grin showed all his teeth. “Well, there's no game here. I didn't enjoy my meal last night; the rabbits in these woods are so stringy it's hardly worth the effort.”

“That was
my
rabbit,” said Lily. She turned in exasperation and glared at Lexi. “You put my bow up in this tree. I want it back. Use your magic to bring it back down.”

My brother folded his arms behind his head.

*   *   *

After all the weapons had been retrieved, the Raha'ells hunkered down to watch Trowbridge play Picasso with a stick again. The tiny silence that fell after my mate finished his sketch of the island was broken by Lily's audible inhale of anticipation.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. “How many Fae do you think I'll bring down before I make it across the bridge? Ten? Twelve?”

“We won't be using the bridge,” Trowbridge said absently, intent on adding details to his rough diagram. “There's a secret tunnel that goes right under the lake. No one will know we're inside until we're on our way out.”

“There will be plenty of Fae inside the castle, Lily,” said Brutus. “Now, where's this secret tunnel, then?”

My gaze jerked upward to Trowbridge's.
The Gatekeeper.
In all the fuss, and drama, and near-death experiences, I'd forgotten how essential she was.

Mouse pushed between Lily and Brutus. “I know where it is.” Then he gave Lexi a shark's grin and said, “
And
how to use it.”

There was a pause; then Danen said, “And once we're into the castle, what happens then?”

I left them to it. I needed to get something from the Gatekeeper.

*   *   *

The Gatekeeper's chin rested on the arrow piecing her throat. I forced my eyes away from that horror and focused on the gold chain around her neck.

No coin, no safe passage home,
I reminded myself. Swallowing hard, I reached forward. The chain was slick.

“You haven't done this much, have you?” said Mouse, coming up behind me. “You'll have to break the arrow first, else you'll never get the necklace over her neck.”

Body-looting tips from a teenager.
Sweet heavens.

What followed next was done with shaking hands and a bout of dry heaves. Once my gut was more or less stable, I examined my bounty. The pendant bore no features I associated as amulet-ish. No stone, no articulated arms. It was just a decorative disc with a bit of etching. I held it out to Merry, brows lifted.

The light within her amber heart issued a disgusted flash of yellow.

So, not an amulet.

“I'll check her pockets,” Mouse said, proceeding to rifle through them. He passed me a golden spoon (“you'll need to melt it down, as it has her mark on it”) and a small square of chamois, which he carefully unfolded (“she used that to polish the jewels, she did”).

“Found anything of interest?” said Lexi.

Mouse's paw was burrowed deep inside the skirt pocket. He started at Lexi's voice, then rose, wiping his mouth. “I'm going for a piss,” he mumbled.

“Nothing of value in the pocket?” Lexi called after him.

Mouse spun on his heels and spread his hands wide. “'Twas empty, Shadow.” Then Mouse cleared his throat and headed for the trees. His amble was deliberately innocent; he knew his departure was being watched with squint-eyed appraisal.

“His feelings are hurt,” I said to Lexi.

My twin lifted a shoulder. “Feelings are expendable.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Trowbridge was going through the diversion. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “The Safe Passage is sealed. I watched it close. I tried Open Sesame and it sure as hell didn't work. We're never getting back home.”

He lifted his shoulders, very much the big brother. “I can open it. The portals are the mage's creation. And remember, I know what he knows. I know the words to open the portal.”

Home!

This time I was leaving nothing to chance. “What are the words?”

He spoke another long string of gibberish.

“What freakin' language is that?” I asked in frustration.

“Mage speech. Impossible to teach or to lend.”

Swell.

 

Chapter Twenty-two

“Sheep's tits,” said Mouse in a stunned voice. Past the thin line of young trees that delineated forest from field, Dhesperal Lake shimmered.

Trowbridge said, “Son of a bitch.”

Lexi said, “That's unexpected.”

An appalled pause ensued during which I could have inserted my own comment. However, for the life of me I couldn't have strung two words together as I stared at the complication across the lake. Granted, I was winded. We'd damn near sprinted the last mile because Brutus's sweat was broadcasting his scent. But still …

Seriously?

My wild imagination had added far more acreage to Wyral's than the island actually boasted. The Raha'ells' Alcatraz was actually modestly sized and made visually smaller by the fortress that had been built to dominate it. The Royal Court's castle was tall, large, and square; its presence was formidable. But it was beautiful too, what with the late afternoon sun bathing its smooth stone walls with gold. Tall, square towers—the type you expect to see flags fluttering from—anchored each of its four corners.

I'm sure anyone approaching the castle's front gate would be suitably impressed by its grandeur. However, we were looking at the back end of the castle. The palisade enclosing the Spectacle grounds had not been built to delight the eye and was a harsh visual contrast to the elegant castle that rose behind it. Merenwyn's sun had unevenly leached the color from its wood, and some Fae handy with an axe had taken the time to whittle each log's top into a sharp point. But it looked like what it was—a brutal feudal prison.