Blood Sacrifice (27 page)

“No, too simple, too… human. One thing he’s never been is that. He pities humans.”

“You are of an age with him, right?” Daffyd asked.

“Months apart,” I said. “Gideon’s a bit older.”

“I do not understand then. Why the disparity in attitude?”

“Sorry, not following.”

Daffyd cocked his head, as if figuring out how to phrase the words. “You seem easy with humans. Your friendship with the woman Bea is fierce, familial. I’ve seen the way you treat other humans, as well. People you don’t know. There doesn’t seem to be any awareness that there is a difference between you and them.”

“I think I understand what you’re getting at,” I said. “Gideon wasn’t brought up much around humans. The Kelly line in the UK is a bit more old-school.”

“Traditional?”

“If by tradition you mean insular, hidebound, and exclusive, then yes.” I smiled up at Daffyd. “I was mainstreamed, raised as much in the human world as I was reared as a Kelly. I’m not sure of Gigi’s original intentions, now that I know some of how I came to exist, but both my late cousin Marty and I became part of the community in Rio Seco. Gideon, as far as I know,
remained on the Kelly estate in the UK during his childhood. He only went to London in his early twenties—and then, to a Kelly house in town.”

“Similar to the British royals. Raised in the mortal world but not of it,” Daffyd stated. “They mingle, but it is limited and with severe restrictions. I understand.”

I shot him a quizzical look. “You know of the current British royals?”

“I
have
watched some television,” he said. “On days I could roam.”

Tucker threw a casual arm around my shoulder as he explained further. “Gideon was even more isolated from the mundane world when you take into account being Talented. As kids, youngsters, especially in the modern world, we do our best to shield humans from accidental magick. That’s why most of our primary homes are in the countryside. Fewer neighbors.”

“For all I know, all of this was part of Gigi’s master plan,” I grumbled. “Mainstreaming me, isolating Gideon, half-and-half really with Marty. He went to school part-time, I think. I never really paid much attention to him when I was in school, since Marty was nearly four years my senior. Maybe she figured she’d see what we’d turn out like.”

“It bloody well sounds as if Minerva experimented with all aspects of your lives,” Tucker growled. “I am sorry I never saw that before. None of us had knowledge of her plan to breed heirs. Seems as though she did it with a scientific set of conditions, to see which one of you emerged the victor.”

A hell of a point. I could certainly see that having been her goal. Three possible heirs via biological shenanigans, then manipulating our environments as we
developed, aged, became adults. “Oh, that’s just more than I wanted to consider right now,” I said. “Gigi’s own version of nature vs. nurture? I hope she’s happy with her little Darwinian experiment.”

“Galtonian,” Tucker said. “Francis Galton coined the phrase. He was influenced by Charles—”

I glared, effectively shutting him up. “Really? You want to do that now?”

He mock bowed. “My apologies, my lady.”

“Okay, then,” I said. “So maybe Gigi set us up—again. Old history now. Let’s get on with our task, shall we?”

“’Tis now the very witching time of night
,

When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out…”

—William Shakespeare
, Hamlet

T
he sun had barely set when we finished the last of the dismantling spells. With Daffyd’s help, it went quickly if not entirely without incident. Tucker had sustained at least three bad cuts. I’d suffered a blow to the head and scraped both knees and an elbow when a particularly nasty spell resulted in me being tossed like a rag doll against one of the larger funerary statues. At least there were no more plagues of insects. No ants, no locusts—though I admit I covertly watched the horizon for any unexplained, swiftly moving dark clouds. No frogs or rains or any other sort of living thing, either, though right now, a rain of anything resembling water would be welcome. I dripped with sweat, my red tank top darkened to nearly black with perspiration and dirt. Tucker had removed his T-shirt within the first hour and bound his hair back with the shirt, using it as a sort of do-rag. Daffyd, on the other hand, seemed as cool
and collected as if he carried his own stasis field with him. I couldn’t do any cooling charms, not even a small one as we were afraid that any magick could trigger a trap we’d not seen.

I slumped onto the floor of the cave mouth, happy in the slightly cooler temps inside. “Those last few were doozies,” I said as I wiped my face with the hem of my top. “Ugh. This is totally gross. My shirt’s soaked.” I pulled it off and threw it to the ground, leaving me wearing my sports bra, also soaked. “I’m disgusting. And I stink.”

“I think it’s safe to cast a couple of spells now,” Tucker said. “I’m in the same boat you are, sis.”

I waved a hand and set a cooling charm along with one that helped act as a fan to move the air. Instantly, I felt better.

“Got any cleaning spells up your sleeve—oh wait, you don’t have any sleeves.” Tucker grinned and snapped his shirt at me. I threw a stinging hex at him.

“Ouch.” He rubbed his side. “Gee, thanks, sis.”

“Don’t slap at me with your stinky shirt next time,” I said. “And no, I don’t know any personal hygiene spells. They weren’t exactly included in the repertoire during my training. Gigi said we’d work on that kind of stuff later.”

Tucker threw back his head and laughed. “You asked her about hygiene spells?”

“Yeah, so what? I did do a lot of physical activity,” I said. “The mountains in British Columbia may be a lot cooler than here, but I still got stinky.”

“Allow me.” With neither a wave or incantation, nor nose wriggling nor eye blinks, we were clean. Daffyd simply smiled.

“May the light shine on you in perpetuity,” I breathed, thankful to feel fresh again. Along with the charm I’d set, the atmosphere inside the cave mouth was almost pleasant. Tucker grinned and tossed his shirt back on.

“Hello, down there,” Adam called.

I got to my feet, pulled on my tank and walked outside, enough so I could see up to the overhang. Two heads peeked out over the edge. “Come on down, we’re all—”

With no warning except a rumbling sound, the earth itself began to move. A cloud of dust and debris showered onto my head. I stumbled, nearly fell but caught myself, keeping upright only by grabbing onto La Angel’s marble robes. “Adam!” Both his and Niko’s head had disappeared from view.

“We’re fine.”

I sighed in relief. “Tucker, Daffyd. Get out of there,” I cried out as the ground continued to shake. Earthquake? We’d had one or two before, but nothing of major consequence. This area lay along the Balcones Fault and so was prone to a few shakes now and again. This, though, strong enough to shake me, to nearly knock me down—this was no minor adjustment to the fault line.

Tucker and Daffyd came running out. Tucker grabbed onto me and the statue, his strong arms holding me as still as he could. “The cave…” His breath was strained, rough. “Part of the wall began to collapse,” he said. “Daffyd tried to go down, but—”

“The path has been obliterated,” Daffyd said. “We can no longer remain here.”

“Adam, meet us back at the bottom of the hill,” I said. “We’ve got to leave.”

“Will do.”

The three of us ran, did our best to keep our balance as we did so. For a brief moment, I considered shifting to wolf, given that four paws were better than two human length legs when trying to maneuver on unstable ground. After a particularly vicious shake of the ground, I thought better of it. I’d have to stop, strip, and shift. That took time.

We managed to make it to the graveyard entrance without further incident. As we passed through the gate, the quake stopped, ground solid and still once more. I turned to survey the cemetery damage. Stones uprooted and falling over, a few of the smaller statues keeled to one side as if in a drunken dance. Nothing too horrible. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

“That was… unexpected,” Adam said as he joined us. “Daffyd.” Adam acknowledged my cousin with a curt nod.

“The last time I felt a quake this intense,” Tucker said, “was back fifty or more years ago… and that was in north Texas, not here.” He bent down and pulled up some dirt and grass, letting it run through his fingers. “We’re more likely to get tornadoes—”

I clapped my hand over his mouth. “Stop that. Don’t tempt fate.”

“I doubt fate or fault lines had anything to do with it,” Adam said, his voice nearly as dry as the ground we stood on.

I looked at him, then at Niko and Tucker. Tucker shrugged. “Surely not Gideon… I mean, fire ants, okay, that can happen. Simple hexes and charms with some trigger spells. The fire at Bea’s. But an earthquake? That’s some heavy-duty earth magick. He’s not capable of that. Hell,
Gigi’s
not capable of that.”

“Nor is my father,” Adam admitted. “Is Angharad?” His piercing gaze turned on Daffyd, who met it without flinching.

“Perhaps,” he said. “My queen has many Talents she has not revealed to us all. Though this…” He crouched and like Tucker, ran his hands through the dirt. “I feel little of her magick here,” he said. “I am no expert in this matter, however.”

“We need to leave this place,” Niko said with a growl. “There is still a darkness here that I mistrust.”

“Yes, darkness that we could not cleanse,” Daffyd said as he straightened. “We rid the stones of the runespells,” he said. “There were many variations on the same thing—triggers bound to warnings bound to spells to keep us away. But yet…”

I closed my eyes against the night and listened. No sounds of birds, rustling of animals walking through the parched grounds. Not even insects humming. The aftermath of the shaking earth? Extending my sense with care, I reached forward with my thought. The hum of cleansed magick beneath, along the ground and the stones we’d meticulously de-spelled. But there was also… something else. It was as if a yawning void lay underneath everything, waiting. A slumbering beast? Or simply the residue of the dark magicks used to desecrate the land and prop open the door to Faery?

“Something’s still there,” I said. “Daffyd’s right. The cemetery is mostly safe. There’s nothing but clean energy at the surface and on the tombstones, but I feel… it’s like an oil slick or black ice hiding just below the surface.” I shook my head and looked at the three men. “I’m sorry I can’t be more clear, but I can’t identify it.”

“Booby traps upon booby traps,” Niko muttered. “I
dislike these layers of magick. I do not know how to fight them. We should leave.”

“We haven’t shut the door yet,” I said. “We can still go Below. Confront Angharad. Talk to Gigi.”

“The way’s blocked,” Tucker said. “The pathway to the lower cave’s all filled with rubble. We can move it, but it will take time.”

“We won’t need that,” I said. “With Adam, Daffyd, and me here, the three of us can incant the doorway into existence. A good thing, though, the rubble will keep out any passersby. If they can’t get into the lower cave, they won’t be able to reach Faery or be trapped in the Between.”

“Then I vote we go,” said Tucker. “I’m tired of this faffing about. Let’s go to the source. Adam?”

Adam looked at each of us in turn, his gaze searching. “This is not child’s play, nor a task to be undertaken lightly,” he began.

“No, but it is a task we can do,” Tucker argued. “What choice remains? Every time we muck about in this hellhole of a cemetery, bad things happen. Do we keep fucking with whatever is guarding this place and get all the Biblical plagues along with an apocalypse? Don’t think I hadn’t noticed, Niko.” He turned, his hand on Niko’s shoulder. “I’ve studied your Bible, as I did all the legends and myths of most peoples,” Tucker said. “I get the symbolism. Whoever set this up has a twisted sense of humor. We’ve even got the dead animals. I guess we’re okay if we haven’t run across a seven horned once-dead lamb.”

Or the actual Apocalypse was coming, I thought. “Well, come on then. Let’s go. Adam, do you think we can access the door via the overhang? I wasn’t able to close it up there, but we can probably open a Way. It really is wide open.”

“The line it is drawn. The curse it is cast.”

—Bob Dylan, “The Times They Are A-Changin’”

O
nce again, as we’d done in Vancouver, I found myself following Adam in a circle, walking widdershins, as he spoke cool, rolling words in the Old Language. Words I now knew more intimately, with my own magick and Talents imbuing them with strength of will. Beside me, Daffyd, hand-in-hand with me as we repeated the words, using our Sidhe powers. Niko and Tucker took our six, also with joined hands, there for comfort, protection, and love.

Round once, twice, thrice. Our steps measured and precise. The air shimmered with energy, the very molecules dancing with power and light. Step by step, the barrier between worlds thinned as we spoke the final words. Closing the circle one last time, we slid from the world Above to the one Below. Underhill and beyond ken of mortal humans. A world I’d long since forsaken, yet which remained too much a part of me even now.

The shape of a man appeared, silhouetted against
the outpouring of light. Odd, I wondered if this were what some people saw as they died on an operating room table. Bright lights, dim shapes. Could the barrier stretch at that time, allowing humans to see, if only a glimpse, into the Shining Lands? That would certainly make a great deal more sense than some amorphous heaven full of harp-wielding chubby angels and dead relatives. I always preferred the flaming sword version of angels, myself. If you equated them with the elf-warriors of my childhood, then yeah. Same thing, different Bible.

“She is waiting.” The shape spoke and as we approached, formed into that of a tall blond with icy silver-gray eyes. A face I recognized only too well—he’d been my mother’s sidekick/mentor/toady—I was never sure which exactly. It was due to Geraint’s insistence that I’d been cast out of Faery in the first place. Huh. In retrospect, maybe I owed him one.