Dragon Wytch

I stared at them. "You mean, if we do this, we can track him down?"



"There are no guarantees, but I'm willing to take the chance." Morio lifted my chin. "Camille, you know that the elves won't risk finding Trillian. In fact, they might think he's a liability now that he's been captured. They might even request that Tanaquar send in one of the triads of Jakaris, like they tried with your cousin Shamas. Trillian doesn't have the raw power Shamas does. He couldn't grab hold of the assassins' magic. They'd kill him."



Jakaris was a Svartan god of vice, but for the duration of the war, King Vodox had ordered the triads—each a group of three monks who were skilled magical assassins—to work with Tanaquar and Queen Asteria. If they took a bead on Trillian, he'd be stone cold dead.



"Holy hell. And both of you… you'd do this for me? You'd forge a soul bond with me to help me rescue Trillian?" I stared at them, unable to believe the gift they offered.



Morio nodded. So did Smoky.



"How long does the union last?" In my heart, I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from their lips.



Smoky cleared his throat. "For life… and beyond. And it means that we won't ever be able to part for too long. If you go home to Otherworld for more than a few months, Morio and I would have to follow. If one of us dies, our body will find its way home to the others for funeral rites. We don't offer this in friendship, but as lovers. You will be our wife."



I turned back to the car. Should I accept? It was the only way… and yet, it would change so much in my life. And then, I thought of Trillian and made up my mind. Whatever it took, I'd find him.



"Let's get moving. We have work to do." As we headed toward Morio's SUV, I added softly, "I love both of you. I hope you know just how much. And I love Trillian. If we rescue him, I'll expect you to bring him into our marriage. I'll be honored to be wife to both of you. But remember, I'm already Trillian's wife, even if we've never mentioned marriage. Are you both willing to share me with him?" I looked at Smoky. Moment of truth here.



Morio opened the passenger door and stood aside, waiting for me to get in. "I know, and I have no problem with the idea. Provided…"



"Provided what?" I asked.



"Provided Trillian's still sane and on our side," Smoky finished. "I acquiesce." He climbed in the back next to Menolly.



Morio shut the door, and I fastened my seat belt, thinking about the future. Delilah reached through the front seats to rest a hand on my shoulder, and I absently patted it.



I bleakly stared out the window. With such odds facing us, it seemed insane to make any lasting commitments, to form any long-term attachments. And yet, they were already formed. Without benefit of ceremony or certificate, I was bound to Morio and Smoky, as I was to Trillian. Why not make it official? Why not give ourselves an edge that might prove handy later on?



Letting out a long sigh, I looked over my shoulder at Smoky.



He gave me a little wink—just a tiny one, but it said everything I needed to hear. I'm here. I'll help you. I love you. You're mine, but I've decided I'm willing to share you with the ones you love. "Let's get this show on the road," I said, as Morio pulled out of the drive and we headed out toward Smoky's land.



Chapter Twenty-five



Morio cast an illusion spell over the car and cranked up the speed. We arrived in record time. As we eased into the driveway leading to Tom Lane's house, or rather, Georgio's house, I sensed a looming presence overshadowing the land.



"What the fuck is that?" I said, jumping out of the car the moment we pulled to a stop. I glanced around, looking to find the magical party-hearty scene going on. A tremendous pressure felt like it was suffocating me: deep magic, ancient magic, Fae magic, Sidhe magic. Oh hell. Titania and Morgaine.



"The demons?" Delilah asked, as she emerged from the SUV next.



I shook my head. "I don't think they've found their way here yet. No, I'm sensing heavy Fae magic. Moon magic, too—and Morgaine is a Daughter of the Moon like I am."



Everybody poured out of the car then, and Smoky's nose twitched. He growled, low in his throat, and I quickly looked around to see if he was transforming, but he stood there, tall and cool against the night sky.



"Titania and Morgaine are searching for the cave," he said. "I can feel them opening rifts, searching out the hidden niches of magic in the land. They'll find it, and we need to be there when they do."



I closed my eyes, buoyed up by the stiff breeze that had started to blow. The winds were shaking the trees, bending branch and limb, moaning softly as they swept in from the west. "It's coming from the west, from the shining shores."



"From Avalon?" Menolly asked.



Listening, I tried to pinpoint the origin of the currents of air that swept past us. They were rife with ocean salt and seaweed and the call of the gulls, and the sparkling phosphorescence that glittered in the water on warm nights when the tides were full. Fae magic, those shimmering lights were, trapped in the realm of the sea creatures.



As I followed the trail of kelp, it led me right back to myself. I was standing in the inner sanctum of the Black Unicorn's room, staring at the Lord of the Depths. He swam toward me, his long hair glistening with faerie light, his eyes round and brilliant in their darkness. As the merman rose out of the water, I saw that he was accompanied by a pod of dolphins.



I curtsied, and he quickly inclined his head in a deep bow. "Lady Camille, what is your wish?"



"Does this magic originate from Avalon? Is the isle still lost in the mists, or has it returned?" I waited, counting the seconds as he closed his eyes and plunged his hands into the water. When I'd counted to twenty, he looked up again, gazing at me through the mirror.



"No, this magic is not Avalon in nature. The sacred isle has drifted so far in the mists that no one—not even I—can find it. This is the magic of the Moon Mother's waves, of the crashing ocean currents, of the great goddesses of the sea and ocean. This is Grandmother Water's magic, and she sings on the wind tonight, for she is being summoned."



That was all he could tell me. I thanked him and withdrew, easing out of my trance as easily as I might shake out of a sudden nap.



"Not Avalon. They aren't trying to reawaken Arthur, that's for sure." I closed my eyes and caught the thread of magic again. It called to me, summoned me, beckoned me on, and I couldn't help myself—I had to follow. "Come on! It's deep in the forest, near where Benjamin told us he found the cave. Let's go."



I started off, but Smoky held out his hand. "Stop. There are traps aplenty. Let me go first," he said, taking the lead. "I can negate them."



Sanity prevailed, and I stood back, letting him move to the front. Morio and I were next, followed by Menolly, Delilah, and Chase.



We set off into the night, under the sliver of moonlight that peered down from behind a thin veil of clouds. I could feel her up there, watching with her frost-borne eyes. The Crone Mother had thrown off her black veils and was now peeking out into the heavens, the barest of Maidens once again. She would grow full and lush and ripe over the next two weeks, dripping with passion and lust and eggs ripe for the quickening, and then she would bid us race into her skies with the Hunt, scouring the land for those ready to join the parade of hunters and prey.



The forest was a variation of grays and blacks, with auras flaring brightly in the monochromatic night. Smoky swiftly navigated through brush and tree, around bends in the path that would have sent me careening into the undergrowth. During the Hunt I could see clearly, but other nights, though my sight was better than most FBHs, I still had to slow down when in strange territory.



I paused as Smoky held up one hand. Waiting as he trod on ahead, the others stood behind me. There was a muffled whoomf and the sound of a small explosion rocked the immediate area, but there was no sign of smoke nor fire, and Smoky looked unharmed. He glanced down at me as he turned back to us, and I could feel him reach out to embrace me, to pull me into his energy field and hold me secure.



The path led on, past the turnoff to where Morgaine had made camp. A fire flickered in the distance, no doubt next to their caravan. Smoky motioned for us to stop once more as he raced down the path. After a moment, the flames disappeared, and the darkness pulled in around us again. I shivered unaccountably. I wasn't cold, but the Fae energy—Grandmother Water's magic—was growing stronger by the minute, and I could barely think, it was so thick.



Looking back at Morio, I whispered, "Can you feel it, too?"



He nodded. "Oh yes, though I think not so strong as you. But it's calling to me, too, and I'm having a hard time ignoring it."



Delilah leaned forward. "This is a wild land here. Smoky has kept it that way on purpose, but I wonder if he hasn't let it get out of hand."



"Let what get out of hand?" Smoky asked, reappearing as quickly as he'd vanished.



She stammered. "The… the land. It's wild and primal—"



"And that is the nature of wilderness," he said, giving her a cool smile. "Girl, do you realize how old these forests are? Your forests in Otherworld were born during the Great Divide. The forests here were born in the distant memories of the planet. They are entities with their own worlds. The woodlands have no need for humans, because humans have become a blight on the face of the world. Dragons, too, and all things that walk the paths of the forests. We all trample and devour and destroy. It's in our nature; we can't help it. But that doesn't mean the forests accept it and look the other way."



"In OW, we've found other ways to interact with the trees," I interjected. "There are primeval forests there, to be sure, that don't care for the touch of the two-legged creatures, but none are quite so intimidating as the ancient groves here."



"None except Darkynwyrd and her shadowy cousins," Menolly said, joining the conversation. "It doesn't matter where you go. There will be forests and wild places with welcome mats out, and then there will be the kind this woodland hearkens from—the kind which prefers to be left alone."



"Enough talk," Smoky said. "Their caravan is there, but Morgaine is not. Arturo and that impatient beast she calls Mordred are there. Mordred stinks of soot and fire. He's likely your arsonist."



Mordred? That made sense. It would seem that Morgaine was already starting her campaign against the demons on her own.



We took off again, following Smoky as he took an abrupt right turn and began to hike up a road with a steep incline. I could hear Chase puffing away behind us. The three of us girls and Morio had far more stamina than he did. And then the puffing stopped.



Concerned, I turned to look. Menolly's eyes gleamed in the night, and I could see that she'd hoisted Chase on her back. He looked scared spitless but was hanging on for dear life as she gave him a piggyback ride to the top. Delilah glanced at him, but when he scowled, she turned away, careful to keep a straight face.



Smoky stopped so suddenly that I plowed into his back. He reached behind with one hand and grabbed my wrist, dragging me to the front with him.



"Look," he said, turning me so I was facing west. There, against the hillside, a brilliant light filtered out from a cleft in the rock. The light, a cerulean blue with sparkles dancing in it, shone like a soft mist in the night.



"The cave," I whispered.



"The cave," Smoky said.



We slipped down the path leading across the meadow that buttressed the cave entrance. I didn't ask Smoky if he'd seen the cavern before. I knew this was as new to him as it was to us. As we stole across the lea in single file under the silver crescent of moon, I could feel the pull of the cavern even stronger. The energy was dizzy with the lifeblood of the Moon Mother and swirled with the currents of Grandmother Water.



The magic dipped and swayed, spiraling like a labyrinthine dance, leading us on. Will-o'-the-wisps dappled the meadow, the dangerous Fae of wild moors and heather-clad hills singing siren songs. I fell back to Menolly's side. Chase was behind her, and I glanced into his eyes, worried. Orbs of light, entities without form, will-o'-the-wisps—or corpse candles as they were commonly called—beckoned to humans like sirens in the night. Usually to their death.



Chase's eyes were glazed, and his nostrils flared. I tapped Menolly on the shoulder, not wanting to speak lest our words be captured by the wind and carried on ahead. She stopped, watching as I motioned to the detective, then to the corpse candles. Understanding dawned in her eyes, and she dropped back by his side, taking him firmly by the wrist to lead him on.



Satisfied that he wouldn't go wandering off to his death, I slipped silently through the knee-high grass to Smoky's side again. Morio joined us, as Delilah fell back beside Menolly and Chase.



I looked up at the moon. Her newborn crescent glittered like the blade of a scythe, and a cold wash of fear and lust ran through my blood. She was my Lady, my Huntress, my goddess.



"Will you live for her? Will you die for her? Will you kiss her lips on your wedding day, and accept her kiss on your brow at the edge of your grave? "



Nigel's voice echoed in the back of my mind. He'd tried to dissuade me from joining the Coterie of the Moon Mother, as he did every acolyte. To court the Moon when you weren't summoned invited insanity at best, a chill and dire death at worst. But she'd been with me since I first held my hands up to her as a child, desperate to touch her, to hear her words in my heart, to answer the call that echoed through my soul.



"Come. We can waste no time." Smoky's voice startled me out of my reverie. I realized I'd been standing in the middle of the field, lost in her passion. As the scent of soil and damp moss hit my nostrils, I shook my head to clear my thoughts and jogged along behind him.