Witchling

"Crap! Chase, are you okay?" As I knelt beside him, Morio and Delilah converged on Wisteria. I heard a scuffle and glanced their way. They had managed to catch her. Morio was holding her down, while Delilah attempted to muzzle her mouth with the sleeve of her coat.



Chase blinked a couple of times, then slowly sat up. Thank the gods, he hadn't received the full blast, or he could have died. He glanced down at his shirt, which was scorched, and winced.



"Anything broken? Do you need a doctor?" I helped him to his feet.



He dusted off his jeans, then gingerly prodded his stomach, where the material had turned soil brown. "Thanks a lot. I loved this shirt. Damn, that stings. You pack a wallop, girl."



"You didn't get the full effect. Be grateful for small favors," I said grimly. In the best of all possible worlds, the bolt shouldn't have ricocheted like that, but considering the haywire effect of my magic, there was always a chance for something to go awry. Actually, in the best of all possible worlds, Menolly would still be alive, my magic would work perfectly, my sisters and I would be at the top of the OIA food chain, and we wouldn't be stuck running after a Degath Squad of demons who'd decided the time was ripe to take over Earth.



After making sure that Chase would survive, I turned my attention to Wisteria. Delilah and Morio had managed to restrain her near a big oaken table that was covered with a faded linen cloth. A place mat and napkin sat neatly in front of a chair. I shook out the napkin and advanced on our prisoner.



Delilah pulled her hand away as I slid the cloth in place over Wisteria's mouth. "She's strong," Delilah warned. Just then, the Faerie twisted savagely, attempting to free herself. My sister slammed Wisteria against the floor as Morio strengthened his grip.



I knelt down, trying to get a handle on just what race Wisteria hearkened from. She was obviously connected with the woodland. The vines and leaves weren't adornments on her dress; they were part of her flesh, part of her very essence. I stroked her hair, smoothing the long, wheat strands away from her eyes. The faint outlines of a brand appeared in the center of her forehead—a trefoil leaf.



"An offshoot of the dryads, I think." I struggled to remember my schooling.



"A maenad?" Morio asked. "She's volatile enough."



I shook my head. "I don't smell any meat, and maenads eat meat. She's never touched a hamburger in her life, I'd stake my reputation on it. No, I think Wisteria here is a dryad who's gotten into a snit over something and fallen in with the wrong crowd. Problem is, now she's linked to two murders."



Chase joined us and stared down at the Faerie. "She's got plants growing out of her."



"Genius, aren't you?"



"Hey, give me a break. After all, you almost killed me."



I glanced at him quickly but saw that he was teasing. Then, snapping my fingers, I said, "I know what she is! She's one of the floraeds, a rare branch of the dryad family. They really hate humans." I frowned. What to do with her? Floraeds were fairly powerful when they were near enough foliage, and we were smack in the middle of woodland central.



Morio seemed to grasp the situation. "We can't let her go. She's dangerous to both us and the mission."



"Do you think she'll understand what's at stake if we talk to her?" Delilah asked.



"Doubt it, but I suppose it's worth a try," I said. Wisteria struggled, and I gave her a cold smile. "Hold your horses, sister. Just chill out and listen to us."



I patted her down, looking for any weapons. Floraeds didn't usually carry them, but it couldn't hurt to check. When I withdrew a long, narrow tube and several wicked-looking darts from the folds of her gown, I was glad I'd taken the time to frisk her. Better safe than sorry. I sniffed the tips of the darts.



"Poison, and a deadly one at that. We're lucky we caught her before she shot one of us, or it would be all over." I motioned to Chase. "Tear that tablecloth into strips, please. We need something to tie her hands with, because if they're free, she can cast spells. We have to question her."



"Will my handcuffs work?" Chase asked, holding them out. I glanced at them. Cold steel. They wouldn't be comfortable, but they wouldn't burn her like iron. Even my sisters and I got a nasty rash from the metal, and we were only half-breed.



"They should work, but we need to bind her hands behind her back." I took the cuffs from Chase and glanced around the room, assessing our options.



Freestanding floor-to-ceiling beams were spaced evenly through the living room. I had them hold Wisteria so that her back was flat to one of the posts, then pulled her arms around back of the beam and handcuffed her. She struggled, her skin smooth as silk under my fingers. I gauged the size of her hands, reassuring myself that she wouldn't be able to slide out of the cuffs. Her fingers were slender, but not that slender.



"Okay," I said, standing back. "We're about as safe as we're going to be around her. Remove the gag, but watch her feet."



Morio lowered the gag. Wisteria coughed several times, then yanked her head up, fixing her glare on me.



"Bitch," she said, eyes narrowing. "You don't belong here—this isn't your home." •



"My mother was human. Earth is my home as much as Otherworld." I leaned in, examining her trefoil, which had started to glow. "Again, just chill. We know you're in league with the demons, and we know you were involved with Jocko's death. Probably Louise's death, too."



She flinched. A true flinch. While most of the Fae could lie without blinking, surprise lit up her expression, and I realized that she had no idea Jocko had been murdered.



"What do you mean?" she said. "Jocko and Louise are dead? Who killed them?"



"Your pals. The deviants you snuck through the portal. You told them about Louise, didn't you? That she saw you near the portal? I bet that's why she was murdered. To shut her up."



The look on Wisteria's face told me everything I needed to know.



"Wonderful," I said. "So you not only turned traitor and, by your actions, inadvertently helped murder a fellow OIA agent, but you also were instrumental in the death of a human. What happened after you let them through? Did Bad Ass Luke and his cronies tell you to go home and forget you ever saw them? Did they promise you nobody else would get hurt? Maybe feed you some line about restoring earth to her former glory? Is that what happened?"



She didn't answer, but I could tell I'd struck a nerve. I was so angry that I wanted to dispatch her right there, but I restrained myself.



"Is it true?" she asked, looking at Morio. "You're earthbound. You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"



Morio's gaze flickered my way, and I kept my mouth shut. Fox demons were excellent at illusion and camouflage. Deception went hand in hand with their nature, though I hadn't picked up on any lies from him yet. Some of the fox demons used their powers for harm; Morio had chosen a higher path.



He crossed his arms and stared at Wisteria for a moment before speaking. "I swear on Inari's heartbeat that I'm not lying. Jocko is dead, and the demons killed him." He held up one hand in a sign that I didn't recognize. "By the breath of the Rice Maiden, it's true."



Wisteria stared at her feet. "I didn't know they were going to hurt him. He was nice enough to me…" I wondered if she regretted her actions enough to cooperate with us, but then she lifted her head, her eyes cold as glacier water.



"The giant's death is regrettable, but as the humans would say, consider it collateral damage. As for Louise, what do I care? She's human, and that's all that matters. The days of raping the earth are soon to be over. We're taking it back, and this time, we won't let go so easily."



Chase sputtered, but I held up my hand for him to be quiet.



"Wisteria, when the demons get through with the land, there won't be anything for you to protect. You know what they're like," I said. "Most of them hate growing things. They despise life and abundance and have as little regard for the birds of the air and the beasts of the forest as they do human and Faerie alike."



I narrowed my eyes. "You might say they have the same regard for the natural world that you did for Louise. Shadow Wing and his crew won't rest until the land is razed. Life under the demons will be worse than life under any human you could ever despair to know."



"Bullshit!" She struggled against the cuffs. "They gave me their word—"



"Are you too stupid to live?" Morio slammed his fist against the beam next to her. "Do you really believe they're telling you the truth? Grandmother Coyote was right—the balance is totally out of whack, and nut jobs like you aren't doing anything to help. Sure, humans have wrecked the land, but what they've done won't even begin to compare to what Shadow Wing has in mind. Who are you working with? Who contacted you about helping Bad Ass Luke?"



Wisteria spat at him, hitting him square in the face. As he turned away, fists clenched, I stepped in again. "If you don't believe him, there's not much we can do, but you're abandoning both our worlds to hell by refusing to tell us what you know." When she stubbornly shook her head, I turned back to the others.



"She's not going to budge. Floraeds are stubborn as ticks, and she's got it in that pea brain of hers that the demons are going to sashay up to the nature spirits and turn the keys to Earth back over to them once all the humans are dead or subjugated. If our efforts fail, I only hope I get to see her face when she understands what's really going down. Because, with the gods as my witness, I swear I'll tear her apart with my bare hands that day."



Furious at the veg-head, I delegated Delilah and Morio to search the house for anything that might tell us where Tom Lane was. Meanwhile, I stepped outside to see if I could conjure up a spell that might help rather than bite us in the butt.



The wind had picked up; it had passed chilly and was downright cold. Blowing in from the southwest, a downpour threatened to swamp us before nightfall. I sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of mossy trees and Douglas fir and molding fungi that padded the ground and made walking slippery.



The maples and oaks and other deciduous trees were almost bare now, their leaves whipped off by the frenzied gusts that swept through the area. Otherworld had its storms, some of them violent and awe-inspiring, but I had never experienced the continual drenching that the Pacific Northwest received for a good nine months out of the year. I longed for the sun, but according to Chase, that wouldn't be happening in any measurable amount, anytime soon.



As I stood in the soggy afternoon, shivering despite the thick weave of my jacket, I began to sense the presence of magic. Old magic, deep from the forest, deep from the ground. It wasn't the magic of wizards or witches. No, this was the magic from beneath the soil, growing out of the very element from which it was born. Earth magic—dark and loamy, filled with secrets buried under the years of leaves and branches that had decayed back into the planet herself.



There was something ponderous about the energy, something so heavy that it muffled my hearing and sucked me under. Dark as in deep nights in the thick of the woods, dark as in the wild hunt that raced across the sky. Dark as in ancient secrets that worked neither for good nor evil, but were simply a force unto themselves. A sparkle of green flared around me, and I understood that I'd contacted a minor earth elemental.



I knelt, steering clear of a puddle forming in one of the wheel ruts in the drive, and placed my hand on the slick earth. Listen, I told myself. Just listen. No casting spells, no calling down the moonbeams or starlight. Just tune in and respectfully ask where we might find the man called Tom Lane.



And then, I saw him—clear as a vision. Lumberjack, yes, but not a logger at heart. He was tall and strong, and beneath the grizzled beard, he bore a nobility born in another time and place. His eyes were lit with the sparkle of madness culled from living too long and seeing too much. I gasped as he reached out to me with an outstretched hand and begged for help.



Who was he? And why did he have the spirit seal?



As I watched, the dark maw of a cave opened up, and I understood that he was hiding inside it. I fine-tuned my internal radar and was pleased when I received a strong signal leading into the woods toward the side of a foothill. Tom Lane wasn't far, but it would take some navigation to get there, and the rain wasn't going to make it a whole lot of fun.



As I shook myself free of the lingering tendrils of energy, a hoarse shout from the house startled me, and I turned to race back inside.



* * *



CHAPTER 13



Wisteria was laughing. I glanced around to find Chase, doubled over on the floor. Delilah and Morio knelt beside him.



"What the hell happened?"



"We should have gagged her again," Delilah said. "Apparently, Wisteria can charm with her words. Chase got too close, and she managed to kick him in the balls. Hard."



Morio was trying to help him sit up, but it was obvious the kick had been perfectly aimed. Chase was so pale I wondered if he was going to be okay. His face was one big knot of pain.



I glanced over at Wisteria, who had a triumphant look in her eyes. Furious, I slammed her head against the beam, holding her by the throat.



"Try anything more, and you die. That's just the way it is. I'll let our sister come have some fun with you. You know Menolly? And you know that she's a vampire? Wouldn't you be a tasty treat for her?"



I could tell I'd made an impression. Wisteria swallowed—I felt her throat move—and I stepped away slowly, keeping an eye on her feet. "Delilah, tear up that tablecloth and tie her feet to the beam." I repositioned the gag on Wisteria's mouth. By the time we were done, she'd be trussed tight as a turkey.