Elemental Light (Paranormal Public Book 9) (12 page)

Ricky shook his head. “Wow, how comforting. Not. So I’m just supposed to be okay with you risking your life to assert your elemental powers while I sit here and do nothing?”

“Ricky,” I said impatiently, for the first time growing annoyed, “you told me yourself you hadn’t shown any powers. For all we know you don’t even have magic.”

I wasn’t sure that was possible for someone with two paranormal parents, but I didn’t say that.

Ricky looked like he was about to yell. His fists clenched, making pale white rivers in his otherwise pink skin, and his eyes went back to burning.

“How am I supposed to know if I showed signs or NOT when you never bothered to tell me what the signs were?”

Point well made, Little Bro, I thought. But I didn’t say it out loud.

“We don’t have time for this now,” I said. “I have to go. I have to get support, and we have to get Locke and Public back.”

“You sound busy,” he said. His voice had gone as cold as the ice chips in his eyes. He pushed himself to his feet. “Don’t let me get in your way.” He tossed that over his shoulder and then stomped back into his room. As he opened the door I saw Lough’s surprised face for one quick moment before it disappeared.

I took a deep breath, fighting tears. Now even my little brother hated me. Get help, get the Mirror, finish this. Everything would be okay if we could just finish this. My only question then was, “Would I be?”

Okay, that is.

As we stood outside Dunne ai Dorn getting ready to go, the wind swept around us. I gazed outward at Locke several times, but it just looked like a black burning heap of rock. Somewhere inside it was Lisabelle with a demon horde, but in the early morning sunshine there was no sign of them.

Somewhere inside was also Risper’s body, unless they had burned it to fine gray dust.

Lanca and Vital came out to see us off. Lough muttered something about Ricky not feeling well. A knife chopped at the metal knot in my gut. I wasn’t going to see him before I left. I fought to breathe.

“It’ll be okay,” Sip assured me, her purple eyes kind. “He’ll come around.”

“We’ll start his training,” Lanca assured me. She stood in front of us in a black dress that billowed with silk and lace, a delicate black crown nestled into her midnight hair. “Even if he hasn’t shown powers yet, we can still review the history. Maybe it will trigger something. There’s a lot we can do.”

“We can also train him in fighting,” said Vital. “He’s scrawny, which will give him an advantage against larger opponents who think they’ll be able to just walk all over him.”

As scary as it sounded, I realized that Vital was just being practical. It was very likely that Ricky would be forced to fight for his honor or his life - maybe there was really no difference between them - one day. Probably one day soon.

I smiled gratefully at Lanca and nodded to Vital. I had wanted to train Ricky myself, but of course in that scenario I was already a senior paranormal, maybe working in cross-paranormal relations, and Ricky was just starting college. Risper wasn’t dead and Lisabelle was somewhere nearby, just like in the early days at Public, when the world was simpler.

Razor waited for me, busy looking anywhere but directly at me. He blew out a large sigh out as I reached him.

“Nice to see you, too,” I muttered.

“This is Butter Blue,” Vital explained, leading another black horse over to Lough.

Gargoile and Sip wouldn’t ride horses, because they’d both be in werewolf form.

“Can’t we fly?” Lough asked, eyeing the horse skeptically. Razor blew out a puff of air rather more violently than was necessary.

Vital shook his head. “You need to stick together, and the skies are more dangerous. There are fewer places for you to hide up there.”

That made sense, but I still wished I didn’t have to spend the day on a horse.

“We’ll be there by nightfall tomorrow,” Gargoile explained. “They’re expecting us. The council meeting is the next night, so we can’t waste time.”

As we left Dunne ai Dorn, Vital came up and clasped my shoulder, his dark eyes serious as several stray wisps of blond hair blew around them.

“Take care of each other,” he said. “Charlotte? I’ll go into battle with you anytime.”

I turned around and waved to my friends. Lanca and Vital stood there and waved as we left them behind.

Lough and I rode in silence for most of the morning.

The terrain directly surrounding Dunne ai Dorn was rough and sandy, with scraggly grass growing in thin patches here and there. The sun was bright but the air was cold, and even the slight wind that was blowing made the ride brisk.

Lough wasn’t comfortable on a horse, even one named Butter Blue, and he kept shifting around in the saddle. But I was lost in my own thoughts, not paying much attention to him. I was glad to have seen Lisabelle the night before, but I now knew what Sip had meant about her dying. Seeing the darkness mage up close was different from hearing my werewolf friend’s words. Lisabelle looked worn, and her pale skin was so thin I could almost see the magic coursing through her body, eating her strength.

Sip was also blaming darkness for Risper’s death, but I knew it was still hard for her to justify helping Lisabelle. I worried that the werewolf’s anger would fester.

“I should just dream us there,” said Lough bitterly. Once the sun rose high in the sky we were both forced to squint. We were in that strange weather where it was cold but we were also sweating, and I was relieved to hear that I wasn’t the only one who hated it.

I grinned at him and said, “Dreaming us there would take too much of your power.” Really, I thought, he probably couldn’t even dream over such distances. Time and space were the enemy of dream givers, despite their residence in the realm of the fantastic.

Lough shrugged and wiped sweat off the bridge of his nose. “No point in having power if you don’t use it.”

I nodded. He was right there.

“By the way,” he said, clearing his throat. “Don’t worry about Ricky. He’s just upset, but he’ll come around. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, and right now he’s overwhelmed. To make matters worse, all he knows at the moment is that his whole family has been killed in this business - except for you, and he thinks you’re about to be killed too. It’s hard to take.”

“Ummm. I’m just trying to keep him safe,” I said. “I wish he could see that.”

“He can,” Lough assured me. “He just wants to help, so that you’re safe too.”

“We all want that,” I said desperately. “It’s just that not one of us knows how to ensure it.”

“Which is why I say he’ll come around,” Lough said, and mopped his brow again. “Just give him some time. Lanca will set him straight.”

I smiled at the thought of the formidable Rapier Queen, but time was not something we had much control over these days.

“She’s called Raor and Radvarious in?” I asked. Lanca wasn’t content to wait for President Caid and the Paranormal Police to help her get Locke back. She’d spent a good hour slamming around her sitting room, this according to Vital, after the “Demon Locke” comment. Just because she had managed to keep her fury in check at the time didn’t meant she wasn’t stunningly angry about the renaming of her ancestral home.

“Hey, can we stop for lunch?” Lough called ahead.

Sip and Gargoile had spent the morning flitting in and out of view, acting as scouts and then disappearing again. At the moment we couldn’t see them. I trusted Gargoile so far as our agendas aligned, but I feared the time when they would not.

This time, there was no response.

Lough frowned over at me. I shaded my eyes, but I could still see only trail and trees ahead.

“Think they went so far ahead they’re out of earshot?” he asked skeptically.

“No,” I said, frowning. “Sip wouldn’t do that.”

Razor stopped on his own. If I had to ride a horse, I was very glad it was one who was just as smart as we were. Or maybe he was just sick of my foolishness. He reminded me of Bartholem, but I had a feeling the cat had no interest in meeting an animal so much bigger than himself, no matter how much of a kindred spirit it was.

Lough pulled up Butter Blue and we both moved to the side of the road. Neither of us said anything as we listened intently.

We heard nothing, not even the gentle pad of footsteps that would signal Sip and Gargoile returning to us. There was no sign of them anywhere.

Lough pointed in front and I nodded, leaving the horses to rest and have some peace and quiet while we went to look for our companions. We made our way forward carefully and quietly, and it was slow going. If Sip and Gargoile had been attacked, we didn’t want to alert their captors. I refused to think beyond that.

After what felt like an eternity I saw a rope stretched across the road in the distance. It was attached to a cage that looked like it had been specifically designed to catch something the size of a dog or a werewolf. The cage was swinging, as if it had just been used, but there was nothing in it now. I stifled a gasp, then looked at Lough and watched as his face fell.

Sip and Gargoile were prisoners.

Lough pointed to the left side of the road, where we could see evidence of a struggle that my friends appeared to have lost.

Gingerly I reached out and touched some of the broken branches. They were slightly damp from sap, and the breaks weren’t clean. Whoever had taken Sip and Gargoile were not trying to hide their tracks. They were also very large.

Lough and I glanced at each other in silent agreement, and I followed carefully as he led the way down the trail.  After only a few minutes he held a finger to his lips and cocked his head. I listened too.

Now we could hear noises. They sounded surprisingly like snuffling.

“What?” I mouthed to Lough. He shrugged.

I frowned. It couldn’t be an animal that had taken them. They could have fought that. Besides, animals didn’t play with ropes and cages.

Lough pointed in front of us and then carefully started moving again, following the broken branches. I followed behind, doing my best to move silently. The woods were thick and dry and the air felt close, but the branches let in plenty of light. The sun beat down on our heads and made it easy to see all the dust and dirt filtered through the yellow film of daylight.

Soon we heard voices, rich and deep, and Lough and I were forced to slow down; We were now in a dense part of the forest, with bright foliage and old leaves covering the ground. When we came to a particularly large tree, Lough pointed for me to get behind it, and I nodded. I didn’t like that Lough would go on without me to see what was ahead, but we couldn’t both go. Whatever had trapped Sip and Gargoile might catch us too, so one of us needed to hang back and escape if necessary.

I worried about Razor and Butter Blue, but given that my horse thought I was the idiot of the pair of us, I had to assume they’d be alright.

Lough continued to move forward softly, and I found myself marveling at how stealthy he’d become since we started Public. War and the need to survive would do that to you, I supposed.

I didn’t have to wait long before Lough came hurrying back, his eyes huge. He frantically pointed me back to the road and I followed him as fast as I could, but it still didn’t feel fast enough! I didn’t want to go backwards, I wanted to get Sip before she got hurt.

Once we were back at the road, I whirled around to face Lough.

“Oggles,” he said breathlessly. “It’s definitely oggles. Like six of them.”

I racked my brain for what that meant, then gasped.

“Yeah,” said Lough. “Big, yeah, or rather, medium big, yeah.”

“Aren’t they part of the sixth house?” I asked. I had heard of oggles, not to be confused with staring at something. They were like ogres, only smaller, and they came from bears instead of giant paranormals. Or something like that. Really, I had no idea, except that they were very large, but not giant large, more like hippo large.

“I didn’t realize any lived around here,” I whispered. My eyes never left the area where Lough had come from, because I was afraid that at any moment an oggle would come popping out.

“They were probably displaced,” Lough mused. “I bet demons destroyed their home, so they’re on the move. They aren’t often seen.”

“Right,” I said. “But what we have to do right now is get Sip and Gargoile back. You don’t think they were hurt, do you? Did you see them?”

“Oggles aren’t violent unless provoked,” said Lough. “They’re like bears that way. Just don’t go after their kids. I didn’t see Sip, but I’m sure they’re fine.”

“How do you want to do this?” I asked. As I spoke the words I heard rustling somewhere to my right, but when I looked I didn’t see anything.

“Asking nicely won’t work,” said Lough. “Unfortunately.”

“Right,” I said. “Maybe we can attack. We have the element of surprise.”

“No,” said a deep, booming voice, which was now right in front of me as a massive man-bear stepped out into the open. “You don’t.”

Chapter Eleven

I gasped and jumped back, while Lough turned to stare up at the oggle. He was hairy, but not like a bear. He had a face and he could obviously speak. He was well-dressed, though his clothes looked well traveled, and he had a rope in his hands that was much like the one that was still strung up across the path. He had big green eyes and a very large nose.