Courting Darkness (29 page)

Music swept up—panpipes and drums, a tambourine, a lute—the dance called me in. To dance, to spin, to whirl under the stars, to leap into the great cosmic orgasm of the universe and never stop dancing . . . the swell of desire rose within my heart and I began to wander away from the path, but the rope around my waist stopped me.

Confused, I stared at the nylon coil wrapped around me, wondering how to get rid of it, when someone on the other end tugged—hard. Unprepared, I went sailing forward, stumbling through the swirls of color until the heat suddenly lessened and I tripped, finding myself lying prone in a snow-covered meadow, with Trillian waiting anxiously. Oddly, the snow didn’t feel all that cold.

He knelt by me and took me by the shoulders. “Camille, are you all right?”

I looked around, perplexed. Smoky and Delilah were there already, but I’d been second. “How . . . what happened?”

“You got lost in there. The energy is magnetic and glom-med onto you. We were trying our best to pull you out, but you were resisting. What was it?” My love searched my face, the dark gleaming skin of his hands stark against my skin. I kissed his fingers, reveling in the feel of them against my face. The seducing energy still held me in its grasp.

“I . . . I wanted to strip naked and run . . . to screw my brains out with somebody.” I inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. After a moment, my head began to clear. “Whoever opened that portal is powerful and has a yen for magical energy. It’s not quite the same as the portal through which we initially came, but there was the same seductive pull—the same sort of siren song.”

“Hmm . . . perhaps a creature who feeds on magical energy?” Smoky extended his hand and I placed my left in it, my right in Trillian’s, and allowed them to lift me to my feet.

“It wouldn’t be the first we’ve met like that. Come on, let’s see where we’re at.” As we began to look around, I realized that although we were in a frosty meadow, everything had an artificial look to it—as if it were two-dimensional. It was almost as though we were on a movie set.

“This feels . . . like somebody created this space. Tried to make it appear real but couldn’t quite get the pattern down. The snow—it’s not very cold. I noticed that when I was on the ground. Anybody else have any thoughts?”

Delilah leaned over a low-growing bush and inhaled deeply. “You’re right—there aren’t any smells to these bushes. Did you notice?”

I frowned, looking around. Closing my eyes, I lifted my nose and breathed slowly. She was right—there was no tang to the soil, no woodsy scent to the trees, no scent of ozone to signal that it had been snowing. It wasn’t that the currents were free of fragrance, but I couldn’t identify what it was.

“That’s weird. I’m getting a little nervous now. What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know.” She glanced nervously around. “I’m beginning to wonder if this is a natural realm or not. It’s not the astral, is it?”

Slowly, I shook my head. “Smoky, Trillian, what do you think?”

Smoky took a few steps forward, then stopped. He pointed past a small stand of small evergreens. “There’s a cottage there.”

“Cottage? Chase said something about being dragged to a cottage.” I took a step toward it, cocking my head. “There’s something odd about it. Do you notice anything weird?”

Delilah shaded her eyes with her hands and peered at it. “It looks almost as though the walls are moving.”

As we started toward it, Smoky in the lead, I saw that Delilah was right. The walls and roof of the cottage looked like they were in motion, like the very atoms of the house were dancing. Wondering what the hell it could be, we quietly descended the sloping path leading to it.

“I don’t like the feel of this.” Trillian shook his head as he drew his dagger. “There is danger here. All around. We are surrounded by it, as though we . . .”

His voice drifted off as I grabbed his arm. “Stop. Stop right here. Look closely—I see what’s making the house move.” I skidded to a halt, looking closely. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Delilah squinted again, trying to see what it is. “I can’t tell.”

“I’m seeing the aura of the house. The movement isn’t on an energetic level—it’s on a physical level. The house is covered with spiders and bugs—they’re swarming everywhere. The whole house is like one giant anthill, sans the ants.”

And then, as I said it, everything came into perspective. The swirling mass became individual spiders and beetles, scurrying in swarms all over the house. In the narrow slits between the layer of bugs, I could see what looked like white strands—a cocoon! The house was a giant cocoon.

“Oh Great Bast, do you think Chase is in there?” Delilah’s voice spiraled, slightly hysterical.

Shaking my head, I started to back away, my teeth chattering. I could take many things, but swarms . . . not so much. “No . . . he was in body on the astral. And if we’re smart, we’ll jump over there now!”

“But we have to know if he’s in there. We have to be sure. I’m sorry, I can’t rely on just your dreams that you had while that freak of a dragon held you captive. It might have been a fever—”

I wanted to slap her, but I knew she was right. I’d been accurate about Vanzir, but that didn’t mean I was right about Chase.

Smoky glanced from Delilah to me, waiting for some sort of direction. “I could just burn down the house—”

“No! What if Chase is in there?” Delilah let out a small mew, like she usually did when she was going to transform into a tabby cat, but I could tell that Panther was just below the surface. She squeezed her nails into her fists. “I can’t afford to transform, not yet. But we have to do something.”

“I think the decision has been made for us,” Trillian said, pointing toward the cottage.

Out of the house came a scrabbling figure, moving from side to side at first, then heading our way. She looked like an old woman wrapped in a red and black robe, almost like one of the Hags of Fate, but she had six arms, and in no way did she have a human look about her. Her hair was knotted into a tight little bun on the top of her head, and her beady little eyes held a grasping expression. I caught a flash of hunger that swirled through the air. She was ravenous. Whether for blood or flesh, I wasn’t sure, but she wanted it
now
.

“If she’s that hungry, then she hasn’t fed for a while. Chase isn’t in the house.” I said it softly, but the others caught my words and nodded. Before she could reach us, I reached up and called down the power of the Moon Mother. This was one of the Elder Fae, and we were going to need all the help we could get.

“Moon Mother, don’t fail me now,” I whispered, sending a bolt of energy toward the creature. The lightning wrapped itself around her, forking into a web. But instead of stopping, she merely smiled an unholy smile and the energy began to absorb into her body.

“Oh crap, she’s the creature who eats
magical energy
—that’s why she captured Chase and that’s why the portal was singing to me.” I stepped back as Smoky, Delilah, and Trillian moved forward. I couldn’t use my magic—not only would it be useless, but it would strengthen her.

As I fumbled for my iron flail, she was suddenly in front of Smoky, and then vanished. I looked around, frantic, and the next thing I knew, the creature was standing beside me, her arms out, ready to wrap me in her deadly grasp.

“Cripes!��� I jumped as she lay her barbed hands on me and, with a strength far beyond my own, yanked me to her chest. As I struggled to get free, she started wrapping me in something—a silken thread. She was spinning a cocoon around me. “Fucking hell, get me out of here!”

Smoky grabbed her by one of her upper arms and started to pull, but her head swiveled around, her jaws opened, and a pair of nasty-looking fangs came down on his hand. He yelled, pulling his hand away, and I could see blood on the skin. He let out an angry rumble and his hair came out, separating into six sections, each one wrapping around one of her arms.

The Elder Fae gave a long screech and twisted back to me, intent on her spinning. I couldn’t see where the thread was coming from, but knowing the way of spiders, I really wasn’t sure I wanted to.

Trillian launched himself at her, bringing his serrated knife down on one of her arms. The blade reverberated off and he stared at her, confused.

“Exoskeleton,” I yelled. “Her appearance must be an illusion! She’s got an exoskeleton.”

He nodded, darting back as she flailed at him with one of her arms. Even though Smoky’s hair had a good hold on her, she seemed to be strong enough to resist his trying to pull her off me.

Delilah ran around behind me, and a sudden prick on my back sent me into a world of pain—it was just for a second, but I screamed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m sorry—I’m trying to cut these webs off you, and all I’ve got with me is the iron knife. I must have poked through your cape.” She continued to saw away at the threads and I sucked in my gut, hoping to avoid another confrontation with her blade.

Smoky’s talons came out, and even though the wound on his hand appeared to be festering a little, he brought his nails around to rake against her side. They skidded off, once again thanks to her outer hull. Whatever she looked like under that jacket of skin must be shiny and hard.

“Enough,” he said, launching himself onto her, his hair straining to pull her arms away. One finally let go of me, and—with a popping sound—he dragged it off her body, out of her arm socket, and whipped it across the meadow, tossing it a good twenty yards.

The Elder Fae shrieked as an ugly brew of liquids and blood came rushing out of the socket. I struggled to keep out of its path—she might have venomous or acidic blood or a whole bunch of nasty things in the stew that made up her bodily fluids.

The attack shifted her attention. While she was still holding tight to me, she was also trying to attend to her wound, and she let go of me with one of her right arms, using it to reach across in order to probe her wound.

As she did, Trillian brought his knife down across the jointed part of her elbow and sawed quickly. The forearm fell off, again streaming what I could only think of as bug juice onto the ground.

I closed my eyes, tired of the whole thing. Focusing on an inner flicker of light, I nurtured it brighter and realized I was touching the core of the death magic that Morio and I used. Struggling to remember his part along with mine, I clumsily fashioned it into a purple globe, stroking it with my mind. The energy swelled until the globe was flaming, burning with the flame of karmic retribution. I called upon the power of the Netherworld to fuel me, to channel through my body. A sinuous thread began to pulse, swirling around, catching me up in it.

Oh, I missed this—this practice. And I missed my connection with Morio. We’d been away from our magic for only about three weeks, but it was too long. He was my priest, he was my mage, and I was his witch.

As I worked the power, I sensed him on the outskirts. He was sleeping, but he’d found his way to me, in a slow, encircling way.

I can help you without hurting myself,
came his reply.

And I quieted down, even through my concern, and let him work with me to fine-tune the flame.

You are ready. Aim for her third eye. Aim for her psychic center, especially since she’s one of the Elder Fae. She won’t be able to feed off this spell.
And then Morio withdrew.

I sucked in a deep breath, still trying to avoid her snapping fangs, and then I pushed the flame outside of me, aiming directly for her third eye. There was a huge flash and she screamed. The next moment, her grip loosened and Smoky pulled me away from her, and we all backed off as she began to shake, surrounded by a violet lightning, and then—with a loud crack that split the air—she dropped to the ground.

Panting, I stared at the still form, but Delilah’s warning shook me out of my thoughts. “Hurry! The house—they’re coming for us!”

A glance at the house showed that the mass of swirling spiders and beetles were sweeping off the house in a moving shroud across the ground, headed our way. I let out a squeak.

“That’s our cue to make tracks! It’s time to shift over to the astral.”

Smoky swept open his long white trench and I snuggled on one side, Trillian holding tight to me, and Delilah snuggled on the other. As he enfolded us in the voluminous coat, the familiar shifting lurched beneath our feet as we flickered out . . . and then onto the astral.

 

The mist rolled thick here, and I caught my breath before I remembered I didn’t have to breathe. The astral realm was one of those places that you couldn’t think too hard about because the conundrums would drive you crazy if you tried to reason them out.