The Rabbit and the Raven: Book Two in the Solas Beir Trilogy (5 page)

She stepped into the trees, passing through a veil of vines, pushing them aside like a curtain. They fell back into place as she moved past them. Ahead, in the dark, was a large fallen tree. She climbed over it, lifting one leg and then the other, trying not to think about what kind of creepy-crawlies might be living on it. That would be the perfect end to the night
, wouldn’t it? Something nasty with too many legs crawling over her bare skin. Her hand brushed into a spider web stretching from the log to an overhanging bush, and she squirmed, holding in a scream while flapping her hand around in a futile attempt to shake off the web. This was
so
not okay. Joe was probably close by, enjoying this little show. If he was, he was a dead man.

The second worst thing Abby, David, Jon, and Cael encountered on the walk home was the Buchans’ SUV, upside down on the grounds of the ruined mansion, one wheel spinning as though something had been sitting on it and had just jumped off. There was a moment where they all looked around frantically, and then a moment of surprise when nothing sprang out at them.

“I thought all the chaos caused by the Kruorumbrae was supposed to magically disappear,” Abby mused. On the day of his coronation, David had mentioned that a spell would overtake Newcastle Beach and erase evidence of the existence of Cai Terenmare and its inhabitants, good and evil.

David frowned. “As far as I know, the spell is already in effect. This must have just happened.”

“Best not to linger then,” Cael said, leading the way to the estate’s gates.

It was eerie—that feeling that something evil was close and just out of sight, something that could attack at any moment, but didn’t. Abby couldn’t figure it out. She felt like they were being watched, but she didn’t understand why they weren’t being attacked. It didn’t make sense.
Where are Tierney and Lucia? Where are the Kruorumbrae?

The worst thing Abby saw was the look on Jon’s mother’s face.

Blanca Reyes was staring out the living room window of the Browns’ house. When Jon and Abby hadn’t come home, she, Bethany, and Frank had begun to worry, and by six in the morning, they’d called the police.

An officer had stopped by three slow and agonizing hours later, asking a lot of questions and assuring them that, in most cases, missing teens turned up in a few hours. Blanca didn’t like his tone—he seemed dismissive, making it seem like she was being overbearing and that Jon and Abby had run away together in some rebellious attempt at romance. But she knew her son, and he obviously didn’t. In fact, she didn’t think
Officer Not Helpful
knew much about kids at all.

Blanca was thinking about this when she saw them walk up the drive—first Jon, then Abby, holding hands with a boy with dark, curly hair, and finally, a rugged-looking older man. Her focus, though, was on her son, and as their eyes met, her despair gave way to joy, and the tears she had been holding back for hours broke free. She was out the door in an instant, flying down the front steps, running to him.
It’s funny,
she thought,
how fast you can run to your child.

Her mind returned to a memory of Jonathon at three years old, encountering a rattlesnake in the backyard. It was one of those California summers when rodent populations soared and snakes grew bold in reaping the bounty. She was indoors, but his scream of terror pierced her soul, and she knew, without needing to see, what the scream meant. It launched her into instinctive action. She ran out the back door, scooped him out of harm’s way, deposited him safely on the back steps, and in the same fluid motion, grabbed a garden hoe and hacked the thing’s head off.

It had surprised her. She hadn’t known she could move like that. It gave her new confidence about raising her son. When she had realized that she would be doing it alone, that Jon’s father wanted no part of their lives, she had been terrified. The snake incident gave her new insight—she was strong. She could do this.

Now, holding her tall, almost-grown son, Blanca wept.

Jon wrapped his arms around her, repeating over and over, “Mom, I’m sorry, I am
so
sorry…”

Abby’s parents were coming down the steps, hurrying to enfold her in their arms. “Abby! Oh Abby, we were so worried!” Bethany Brown cried.

Abby was surprised. Where was her mother’s “Where have you been, young lady”
speech?

“I’m sorry, Mom.” She hugged her mom and dad tight. She saw that her little brother was watching from the steps. He was only ten, and Abby could sense that he had been scared too. She felt so guilty.

David seemed to feel guilty as well. “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, and Ms. Reyes,” he said. “We
really
didn’t mean to worry you.”

Cael looked nervous, but not about the family reunion. Abby thought perhaps he too had the keen sense that they were being watched and followed.

“Solas Beir, I suggest we finish what we came to do and return to Cai Terenmare. If Tierney knows you are here…” he warned.

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. If Tierney had found out the Solas Beir had left Cai Terenmare, it was only a matter of time before they would all be dead.

“Let’s get out of the open and inside the house,” Abby urged, grabbing David’s hand and tugging him toward her front door.

Once inside, Abby and Jon introduced David and Cael.

“So this is the mysterious David Corbin,” Abby’s mother mused, shooting her a not-so-subtle wink.

Abby didn’t mind, but there would be time to update her mom on her love life later. She tried to quickly tell her story about all that had happened since their disappearance, in as believable a manner as possible.

Abby experienced a feeling of déjà vu, remembering when she had told David a similar tale of everything she had learned from Eulalia: the existence of Cai Terenmare, the magical, silver nautilus necklace known as the Sign of the Throne, and the fact that David was Eulalia’s son and the next Solas Beir. With David, she had been terrified that he wouldn’t believe her and she would lose him for good.

She was less worried about being believed now, especially since she had Jon, David, and Cael to corroborate her tale. Abby watched her parents’ initial expressions of shock soften as they listened.
Abby’s mother seemed to be hardest to convince, but even her doubting questions tapered off as Jon and David nodded emphatically, their faces sincere. Bethany Brown knew her daughter wasn’t given to lying. Abby wasn’t sure how much of the story her parents believed, but they seemed to be taking her concern for their safety seriously when they heard what had happened at the Buchans’ house. It would have helped if they could have seen what Calder did to Jon’s car, but the old Mustang had already disappeared. Whatever spell had been cast seemed to be working; as they had traveled to the Browns’ house, no one in Newcastle Beach seemed to notice the four people walking down the street, armed with swords.

“So now we’re here,” Abby finished, and looked at her family and Blanca Reyes expectantly.

Jon was sitting with his arm around his mother, who seemed reluctant to let him out of her sight. Based on the steely look of determination in her eyes, Abby was certain she would be making the journey to Cai Terenmare.

Bethany Brown exchanged a look with her husband and he nodded. Bethany took his hand, slipped her other arm around Abby’s younger brother, and then turned back to Abby. “What do we need to pack?”

Abby breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry about taking clothes or food,” she stressed. “There are plenty of supplies where we’re going.”

“So much for hoarding toilet paper,” Jon said under his breath.

Abby shot him a warning look.
Not the time to be messing with me, dude,
she thought. He mouthed
Sorry
, and she continued. “I don’t know when we’ll be back, but only take the few mementos you can’t live without. We have to hurry. The Kruorumbrae will be here soon.”

Michal was getting a little freaked out. It seemed much darker than it should have been in the trees, like the moonlight was somehow unable to penetrate the canopy. She kept hearing little scurrying sounds—as if the spider web hadn’t been creepy enough.
There had better
not
be rats in here
, she thought.

Obviously Joe was toying with her now, but the joke was on him, because this little game of hide-and-seek was not going to win her affection. He was
this
close to blowing his chance with her, never mind how cute he might be. This was not worth it. She was annoyed, but she was also starting to feel a little scared, and she wasn’t even sure why. If Joe came out right now, she might still forgive him. She heard the snap of a twig behind her and twisted in the direction of the sound. “Joe?”

Nothing. No response, no one there, nada.

Now the leaves crackled in front of her—she turned back quickly, the hair rising on the back of her neck. “Joe? Come on Joe—this is
so
not funny.” Her voice sounded overly loud as she tried to convince herself there was nothing to fear.

Again, nothing but silence. Even the weird little scurrying sounds seemed to have stopped.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement, and she whirled toward it. “Joe! Stop being such a—” Michal stopped midsentence. There was a young man standing there. His face was gaunt, handsome, and his eyes were dark, charismatically intense. “You’re not Joe,” she said simply.

“No. I’m not,” he replied. He stepped toward her and took her hands, pulling her toward him.

She let him—it didn’t occur to her to do anything
but
step into his embrace. As he drew her into his arms, Michal stepped through a mess of trailing brambles, grazing her ankles and shins on the sharp, prickly thorns. They were just scratches, but deep enough to bleed. She didn’t feel any pain.

Then, from off to her side, came a low growl. In her trance, Michal turned to find herself face-to-face with a sleek, jet-black panther with a silky pelt and glowing red eyes. It was staring down at her from the fork of a tree. The fur between its shoulder blades was standing on end, and its muscles were tensed as if it was ready to pounce.

“Lucia, dear,” the young man purred, “play nice.”

The large cat leapt to the ground. Lying on the sand
next to where it landed was Joe, his blank, glazed eyes staring up at the night sky, his face pale like the full moon. And then Michal saw blood...so much blood. That was when she started screaming.

Shortly after Michal ventured into the grove, Monroe looked up from writing in the sand and saw hundreds of strange lights. The tiny red, glowing dots were illuminating the hedge, almost as if someone had strung a net of lighted faux holly berries across them.
A bit early for Christmas
, Monroe thought absently, picking at the driftwood log she was sitting on, her mind unable to grasp what she was seeing.

She realized that the lights were accompanied by the sound of scurrying feet, and the noise was getting louder. Whatever Marisol had seen in the bushes was back and had brought friends. Lots of them—and they were coming her way. Monroe stood up, her fight or flight response taking over and telling her that flight was the most reasonable course of action.

Then she heard Michal screaming, and there was no “all systems go”—only a girl frozen and confused by her fear.

Grabbing Monroe’s hand, Marisol propelled her into motion, moving her away from the bushes as hundreds of black cats poured fluidly through the branches, except they weren’t cats—not quite. They seemed to be, at first, but they moved like liquid and all together as one being—like black oil and smoke at the same time. Then they changed and didn’t look like cats at all, but something else, something unreal with gnarled limbs, black spiky fur, and gnashing teeth; something lethal.

A
ll around Marisol, her friends were screaming, running, trying to get away, but the oily smoke was everywhere at once. The only place to avoid the creatures, the only safe place, was the grove, and yet, how could that be, when that was where the screaming began? But Marisol knew that was where they had to go.

Marisol and Monroe burst into the grove, clawing their way through thick vines, plowing through the brambles, moving away from the beach without rational thought. Marisol only knew they had to keep going, had to get away from the thing that was coming, that was consuming everything like a dark, hungry fog.

Ahead of them, more red eyes glowed in the darkness of the grove. Then Marisol saw Michal lying on the ground, her long blond hair splayed out around her, her eyes pleading with them for help, right before she was dragged by her ankles into a tangle of dark brush.

Monroe began to scream. The sound was muffled when something black and furry jumped down from an overhanging branch, straight into her face, knocking her to the ground.