World Weaver (The Devany Miller Series Book 4) (17 page)

THIRTEEN

There were over twenty infected Wydlings rushing at us. Some had blades in their hands. They made no sounds but for the stomp of their feet on the ground and their gasping breaths. It was eerie, the lack of noise. I was very glad Neutria was ascendant. She wasn’t afraid of them.

But oh lord, I was.

‘Wrong, wrong, wrong!’ my mind screamed as we charged, Wydlings, Tytan, and Neutria. She downed the first host, burying her fangs deep into the tall man, pumping acidic venom into his body, dissolving bones and muscles. Kroshtuka swung his sword into the head of the next, black ichor gushing as he pulled his blade free. Still it came at him, lunging between swings to dash against Krosh’s legs.

My mate,
Neutria thought and attacked, her fangs striking the Rider once, twice, three times. The host fell and Krosh hacked with his sword again, cracking the head open. He stomped on the parasite that flopped among the brains.

A female Rider ran at Krosh, and a male flanked him, both brandishing weapons. Neutria lunged, knocking the infected male Wydling to the ground. She spread her fangs, letting her venom drip onto his face. The flesh melted, skin boiling down into blood and ooze.

Someone screamed.

We turned to see a Rider thrust his sword into Dyss. One second Dyss was swinging his short blade and the next he was dead, his life’s blood staining the front of his shirt. Then Kali was there, her swords blurring.

Jolla was sobbing, held back by Lorath, who kept her from seeing the worst of Dyss’ death. Her face was a mask of pain and disbelief. Kroshtuka dispatched another host and another. Neutria took out three more.

Silence fell. Neutria retreated inside my head, strangely quiet, and I found myself back in my own body. Kroshtuka was with Jolla, hugging her to him as she cried. So many dead. So many people I cared about in danger. Countless strangers in peril because of the Omphalos.

Kali was polishing blood off one of her swords. “There is worse news.”

Worse than over twenty innocent people dead, including one of our own? “What?”

“There is a carnicus traveling toward the north.”

Sharps? “What was it called?”

“Brightwater, it said on the main wagon. They are all infected.”

Horror washed over me. “No.” I tried and failed to keep that memory at bay. Liam’s lookalike dying in my arms. I shook myself. There were more important matters than my bad memories. If the carnicus was headed north, they might pass by Odd Silver. I had to warn them.

Jolla was still crying when I walked over and murmured my sorrow for her loss. Kroshtuka passed her into Lorath’s care and followed me a distance away so I could talk to him. I told him what Kali had seen and slipped my fingers around his necklace, the one that matched mine. “I’ll hook back to you as soon as I tell Lizzie and the others.”

“They can shelter in the Dream Caves,” he said, though I heard the worry in his voice. “All of them. There are enough tunnels to hold everyone and food stores besides. The Elders can seal the entrance and keep the Riders at bay. They will be okay.”

I nodded, my stomach upset at the idea of a carnicus full of infected Wydlings headed for Liam and the others.

“Go. We will make camp out of sight of the barrier and wait for you.”

“Would she like me to take her back home with me?” I asked, indicating Jolla who was wiping off her face, her eyes still leaking tears.

She heard me, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. “No. I want to go on. Dyss,” she said, then stopped, swallowing hard. “Dyss would have wanted me to go on.”

I hugged Kroshtuka close and then hooked away to the Dream Caves to sound the alarm.

***

Fisli grumbled when he saw me. “What doom are you bringing in your wake this time?”

Would it be rude to kick an old dude? Probably. “I need to speak to Lizzie.”

“She’s busy.”

I raised an eyebrow at him and he glared. “It’s important,” I said.

“So is her rest.”

“Listen, there are Riders coming. A whole carnicus is infected. I need to tell her so she can prepare Odd Silver, so you all can stay safe and uninfected.”

His face paled. “The bastards. Why don’t they stay on their damned island?”

I shrugged. Waited. “You going to get her? Or better yet, take me to her so she doesn’t have to get up?”

“Fine. Come on.”

I followed him down a maze of tunnels to a wooden door set into the stone. I didn’t know Lizzie actually lived in the caves. I would have thought it too dark and oppressive, but perhaps she found comfort in the solidity of the walls around her. Fisli knocked twice and then opened the door, sticking his head in to murmur something to the Dream Mother. He stepped aside, glaring at me. “Go on, then.”

“Thank you.” I slid around him and entered a glorious room, softly glowing crystals all along the ceiling, and gemstones embedded in the walls, polished until they glowed. “Oh my.”

Lizzie was in bed on the far side, nested in fluffy furs. Her white hair spilled over her pillows and she looked ethereal, like she might disappear in a puff of glitter and smoke at the slightest provocation. “Come in. What’s this Fisli was going on about?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s important.”

She pushed herself to sitting as I crossed to her, my eyes on the mural decorating the floor. Wydlings in both human and animal form capered among flowers and trees, painstakingly created with stones of all shapes and sizes expertly fitted together. I almost tripped up the small step to Lizzie’s bed, so intent was I in admiring the pattern.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes,” I breathed. It was so gorgeous, I wasn’t sure how much sleep I’d ever get in a room like this. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

She nodded. “I figured as much.” Her face grew solemn as I told her about the Riders, the carnicus, and Dyss.

“Krosh said to put out a watch, and warn the neighboring clans.” I paused, guilt crawling around in my stomach. “I should have gone to Ketwer Island to take care of the problem when you told me to.”

“Honey,” she said. “You have enough on your plate as it is. We might not have your power, but we can fight.” She shook her finger at me, her hand trembling. “And we will fight.”

“Are you okay?”

“Tired. Just tired.” She patted my knee. “I will send out word to the Wydlings from here south. They all must know and take precautions.”

“It’s the Brightwater Carnicus. So far, every time we’ve been attacked, the host has had a parasite—I haven’t seen anyone only secondarily infected.” I sighed and rubbed my face with my hands. “It’s a full-on invasion. This sucks, Lizzie.”

“It does. And I’m sorry you have so much to worry about. At least your son is here and he’s safe.”

Sort of. I was tempted to take him home, but he would break out in feathers again without anyone to anchor him. Better he stayed here where there were people who understood what he was going through and could help him deal with the changes. I would take Krosh at his word that the caves were a safe place for them to hide if they needed to.

“Is there anything you need before I go back?”

“Will you be able to get back?”

I nodded. “I think so. I have this,” I held up my necklace. “And I have the backroads’ bracelet.”

“Be careful. My Dreams are all dark.” Her eyes shifted away from mine, and I frowned.

“Lizzie? What is it?”

She shook her head. “They are just possibilities, my dreams.”

I sat carefully on the edge of her bed. “Please. If there’s something I need to know—”

Her pale blue eyes caught on mine. I read sorrow in them, sorrow and despair. “I saw your death, Devany. I saw your lifeless body in the tower of the Spider Queen.”

***

It was noon on Earth when I hooked home, bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. I’d decided to check on Travis and the clones before I rejoined Kroshtuka and the others. The house was silent but for the refrigerator running. I found Trav, Dev Two, and Liam Two in the backyard playing croquet. “Hey, guys.”

Travis looked from me to Dev Two and back again. “What the ever-loving fuck?”

Right. I’d never gotten around to telling him about the clones.

“Language,” Dev Two warned from the yard.

Travis’ face went purple. “What is going on? Who is that? Or maybe I should ask, who are you?” He swung his mallet toward me and I thought for a moment he’d hit me with it. He didn’t, only jabbed it in my direction.

“They are standing in for me so I don’t lose my job and so Liam doesn’t get behind in school. They are clones from the Slip.” Liam Two was debating whether to knock Trav’s ball out of bounds. Dev Two egged him on and he sent Trav’s ball flying into the wildflowers by the fence.

“Great. More shit.” He looked over at Dev Two when he said the word. “I wondered why you were being so nice to me. She’s not you, that’s why.”

“Hey,” I said, hurt by his tone.

“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound sorry. He sat down hard on one of the chairs by the patio table and it groaned. I held my breath, but it didn’t break.

“Is she going to work for me? And Liam Two, is he doing okay in school?”

“Yeah. I did get a note from Liam’s teacher telling me she was worried about him, that he seemed quieter than usual. I told her he was still dealing with his dad’s death. That shut her up.”

A small laugh escaped me. “Thanks, Trav.”

He grunted. “This sucks.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I should have told you before I brought them here. But I appreciate you being here, manning the fort, so to speak.”

He didn’t answer, his gaze drifting over to Dev Two, then me, and back again. “That detective dropped by yesterday,” he said, almost casually. “Asked a lot of questions.”

“What kinds of questions?”

He shrugged. “If I was here when that Harrison guy was found. If I knew anything about the Rivera guy that got murdered in jail. Asked if you talked about your work.” He reached for the glass sitting on the table. “I told him your lips stayed sealed tighter than a virgin’s asshole.”

“Travis,” I said. My eyes narrowed. “Have you been drinking?”

He didn’t answer, just raised his glass, looked me in the eye, and drained it.

I told myself he was a grown man and could drink if he wanted. The stress had to be eating at him too. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because your girlfriend kidnapped your niece and your sister hasn’t been able to find her daughter?”

“Fuck you, Dev.” He pushed back from the table, knocking over the chair. It fell with a clatter that caught the attention of Liam Two.

“Come on, Uncle Travis! I knocked your ball into the weeds.” He sounded so delighted, so much like Liam, that I ached for my son.

“Yeah, yeah.” Travis stomped over, not bothering to pick up the chair or say goodbye. I left him to his anger and his impostor sister and nephew and went back inside.

I grabbed a piece of paper and pen and scrawled a note to Marantha, warning her about the Riders, and told her of my close encounter with Bethy, Arsinua, and the Anforsa in Bayladdy Creek. Then I wadded it up in a ball and opened a hook, concentrating on Marantha. I wasn’t able to visit witch lands anymore, but surely a ball of paper would make it through.

Hoping it would be enough, I went to the kitchen and made myself a quick plate of food. When I’d polished it off, I packed up a sack full of snacks and filled two empty milk jugs with water. Each member of our group had canteens, but I couldn’t help but worry that we would run out. What did the Wastes hold for us?

I found Cheeseweed sleeping in a sunny spot on the carpet and scritched her behind the ears. “I wish I could stay here with you and bask in the sun without any worries.”

She meowed at me, her eyes half closed.

I formed a hook and stepped through, leaving my lazy kitty and my angry brother behind.

FOURTEEN

At Tytan’s manse, I called for Nex and found him in the backyard. He was bobbing in front of a canvas, a brush between his teeth. He’d painted the Swamp in murky greens and whites. A body stripped of its skin laid in the foreground, its red wounds a harsh contrast to the softness around it.

“You’re painting too?” I asked.

He turned and grinned around the brush. “Yes.” He spat the brush out of his mouth and it landed on the ground with a spatter of paint. “I wondered when you would come. To pass the time, I took up the artistry of putting oil to canvas.”

“It’s really well done and gruesome.”

He beamed. “Thank you.”

“I need your help. And Vasili’s too.” I paused, thinking, then asked, “Are you guys still pals?”

“We are. He supplies me with paint and I regale him with stories of the hunt. I’m sure he’s at his home, pouring over books or potions.”