Fury Rising (Fury Unbound Book 1) (16 page)

As we gathered around the table, I gulped down the coffee, burning my tongue in my haste.

“Slow down. We have time,” Tam said. “How’s your hand feeling?”

I shook my head. “Achy. It hurts, but not as much as last night.”

Jason finished his sandwich and held out his hand. “Let me see.”

I switched my sausage muffin to my right hand and then let him remove the bandages. The wounds were red and inflamed, although there was no sign of pus oozing out of the holes. The antibiotic powder was still packed inside them, serving to keep them open as it slowly worked on my system. Jason examined my fingers.

“Can you feel this?” he said, wiggling them from side to side.

“Yes, I can feel it, and it hurts. There’s a lot of pressure there.” I bit my lip, staring at my puffy fingers. “Should I go to the doctor?”

“At this point, I doubt if there’s much they can do for you. But the fire in your system can’t be helping. You need water to counter the swelling. Healing magic.” He glanced over at Tam. “Can you do anything?”

Tam took a closer look. “I have a spell that might offer some relief, but…” He paused, then smiled. “I can help you, but you have to let me kiss you.”

I blinked. That was a new one on me. “Say what?”

“A great deal of my magic is transferred via kiss and touch. My healing magic is the magic of the Grove and the Crystal Grotto.”

I wasn’t sure what the
Grove
and
Crystal Grotto
were, but said nothing as he scooted his chair around, sliding it in between Jason and me. Jason leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest, watching with a smirk.

“All right.” I found myself growing nervous. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt like I was about to enter new territory and I didn’t like doing so without a map.

Tam caught my gaze, holding it firm. His eyes were silver as the moon and I couldn’t look away as he leaned closer to press his lips to mine. A deep shiver raced through me, so deep I almost lost myself in it. I melted into his arms, and he shifted, drawing me closer as a sudden wash of his breath entered my mouth, cool like mint, cool like winter ice. I drifted in the kiss as his energy worked its way through my body, stretching me, embracing me. And then, the wash hit my hand—a rush of rainwater, whitecaps on a mountain stream. It washed through the injury, soothing the pain and relieving the pressure.

Another moment, and he slowly drew away.

I started to blush, but the embarrassment faded as I realized just how much the kiss had helped. I held up my hand, staring as the swelling began to visibly subside as we watched. It wasn’t fully healed, but within the space of a few moments, the angry color was almost normal.

“That’s amazing.” I turned to Tam. “Thank you…” Then, I found myself blurting out, “You have the softest lips.”

“My pleasure,” he said with a wink. “You have nice lips yourself.”

Jason interrupted. “Hadn’t we better get going if you are supposed to meet Jerako by seven?”

“I suppose we better.” I stood, turning to Tam. “I’m taking my sword. I don’t want to chance not having it when I need it.” Slinging the sheath over my head, I said, “Let’s go. I’m not sure how to get there or how long it takes. I’ve never been to the Arbortariam before.”

“I’ll drive you to the ferries. I might as well head into the shop and set up early. After yesterday…” Jason paused.

“After yesterday we
all
need to regroup.” At six-fifteen, I followed the men out the door, locking it securely behind me. Jason and I sat in front, Tam in back, as we headed toward the eastern border of Seattle, where the Arbortariam was.

My phone jangled and I glanced at the text. “Hecate wants to see me at noon. I hope we’re back in time.”

“We should be,” Tam said.

We arrived at the docks shortly before the next ferry was scheduled to leave. Jason had very little to say as Tam and I slipped out of the car. He waved, then drove off, speeding into the center of Darktown.

Tam watched as the car disappeared, then turned to me. “He was pretty quiet.”

“I think he’s still thinking about Eileen. Yesterday when we were headed out to Bend, he told me that it had been an arranged marriage and was doing his best to convince me he would have done right by Eileen.”

“Methinks our fair-haired hawk-shifter didn’t want to get married and now feels guilty over it,” Tam mused. “Whatever the case, he has to work it out. Come, let’s go meet the Greenling.”

The ferries over to the Arbortariam ran every half hour. We had five minutes to get on board and managed it with seconds to spare. As we stared out over the bow, the dark water churned beneath the boat.

The morning was shrouded with mist, rising off the inlet. At one time, they said, Idyll Inlet had actually been a lake, but between the Weather Wars and the World Shift, all the coastlines had changed. Now, the inlet was a long stretch of water feeding in from Pacific Sound through the Locks. Idyll Inlet stretched along the inner coast, where the Edge was nestled between water and forest. Not many people lived over on the Edge, and those who did were rife with rogue magic. Creatures sidled out of the Wild Wood there, and the rumors were thick about magical valleys deep in the wilds.

The ferry ride was short—fifteen minutes at best—and as we pulled into the docks, the stretch of forest spreading before us made me nervous. It was then that I realized there was a force field—invisible but extremely tangible—surrounding the entire thicket.

“You can see the barrier, right?”

Tam nodded. “Yes, I can. It’s very much like the ones that we erect around our barrows in Briarwood. The field surrounds the island, save for a thin strip that circles Arbortariam. If you were to try to walk through it, you’d find yourself turning around and walking the other way. It’s extraordinarily powerful.” He sounded delighted.

“You’re really looking forward to this, aren’t you?” Impulsively, I looped my arm around his. “I suppose they’ll have someone waiting for us.” We were among a handful of people to get off the boat. Most walked up to the forest and did exactly as Tam had predicted: turned around, walked back to the ferry, and re-boarded.

But as we approached the front of the copse, a figure slowly moved out of the shadows. He had been standing near enough to observe, but had been cloaked—camouflaged, perhaps. He was lithe and svelte, and reminded me oddly of Tam, but with a far more feral feel. Branches rose from his head, but unlike Tam, they were actual branches, not his hair frizzing out.

“I am the one they call Zhan. Please follow me and I will take you to Jerako. Neither touch nor seek to gather any of the plants.”

“What about my sword? I promise to keep it sheathed.” I expected they might take it until we finished, but our guide merely shrugged.

“It is unimportant. You may bring it with you.”

The thought occurred to me that if they weren’t concerned about my sword, they must have pretty damned powerful magic to counter it.

He turned to Tam. “Welcome, Bonny Brother. We are honored to greet one from your world.” He didn’t sound so much honored as intrigued.

But Tam responded graciously, inclining his head. “As am I. I have always longed to meet the Greenlings, and I am grateful for this opportunity.” He gave me a little pinch on the elbow as he took my arm to walk me along.

I hastily nodded. “Yes, as am I.”

“Then we are all honored and mayhap be moving the meeting along.” And with a vague smile that might also have been a frown, Zhan led us into the world of the Greenlings.

Chapter 11

It was as though the force field were a translucent veil that lifted as Zhan led us toward it.

As we stepped through the shimmering veil, I caught my breath. The forest inside the Arbortariam was totally unlike what it looked like outside the veil. The island of Arbortariam had been connected to land at one point, but now it was connected to the Edge by two bridges, and to Seattle proper only by the ferries.

Outside, it looked like a dark forest, sprawling and spooky. But one step through the veil and we were in fairyland. The mood shifted—the Wild was all around us. The trees began to shimmer, as if dusted in miniature stars that sparkled under the silver sheen of clouds, as a light rain began to fall. The air seemed clear here, almost richer in oxygen, and smelled like wet cedar and fir and moss. I thought I heard a stream in the distance.

Everywhere, the dripping rain echoed off the trees, cool and crisp, and smelling like ancient forest. The trees were jumbled, tall and laden with bracken, and oak moss hung from their branches like long beards on old men. Mushrooms sprouted along nurse logs that lay silent on the forest floor, their trunks slowly working their way back to the sludge from which they had first sprouted.

I stopped, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty around me. The very air seemed to sparkle. Suddenly dizzy, I stumbled and Tam caught my arm, steadying me.

“This…what
is
this place?” The words sprang to my lips before I could stop them.

“This is the home of the Greenlings,” our guide said, turning with a faint smile on his face. “I am one of their servants. I’m a hedgemite.”

Tam stiffened. “Your kind still exists, then?” He turned to me. “We thought the hedgemites had died out eons ago during the Weather Wars.” He turned back to Zhan. “I had no idea what you looked like.”

Zhan gave us a solemn nod. “We do exist, yes. The Greenlings brought our kind back to life. There were few of us left by the end of the great wars. Thanks to the ancient race, we have recovered. We now serve them as a measure of our gratitude.”

I had no idea what a hedgemite was, but figured it would be impolite to ask. I’d save that question for later. “The Arbortariam is breathtaking. I’ve never felt anything quite like this.” I wanted to close my eyes and drift in the energy swirling around me. I felt like I was being gently rocked, encased in soft petals.

“We are grateful for your joy. Joy means so much here. Hedgemites thrive on it.”

He turned back to the path and led us deeper into the woodland. Tam reached out and took my hand and I let him hold it. It felt totally natural in this space. His fingers closed over mine and my stomach fluttered. I blinked, wondering if I should pull away, but then my thoughts drifted on to the birdsong echoing through the morning chill and I quit worrying.

We rounded a bend in the path and I stopped, Tam halting beside me. Ahead and to the left, the ground mounded up to form a hill, from which a waterfall trickled down, creating a lazy pool beneath it. The water shimmered with prisms, and I thought I could see women bathing in the pond below but when I blinked, they were gone.

I let out a slow breath. “That veil…it wasn’t merely an illusion to fool the outer world, was it? We really are in a different world, aren’t we?”

“There are illusions, and then there are illusions,” was all Zhan would say. But Tam squeezed my hand and shook his head just enough for me to see. I fell silent, but my sword tingled against my back as if it could hear me and agreed.

We came to a clearing in the woods and Zhan led us into the center of a grove where grass quivered, knee high in the breeze. The clearing sloped uphill on a slow gradient, and in the center, an oak sprang upward a good hundred feet. Beneath the overhanging boughs heavily laden with round-lobed leaves that were turning bronze there sat a tall man, his long legs stretched out in the grass. He was sturdy and completely formed of foliage. His crimson eyes reminded me of holly berries, and as we approached, I realized his legs and arms were actually long, straight branches covered with a thick cover of moss. He was unlike anyone or anything I had ever seen.

“Greenling…”
Tam whispered beside me, his eyes wide.

As we approached, Zhan suddenly lost his composure and he stammered as he said, “May I present you to Jerako, Elder among the Greenlings. Jerako, I bring you the Theosian Fury, and her companion Tam, one of the Bonny Fae.”

Jerako grumbled something, and then slowly rose to his feet. He was a good ten feet tall, and up close I could see just how intricately the foliage wove together, as though it had been tightly braided. I wondered if he had a heart or an actual brain, or whether his internal organs looked anything at all like ours.

I slowly let Tam’s hand drop away as everything else seemed to fade. My entire vision was fixed on Jerako as he loomed over us. He was wild and feral, and the only thing I could focus on were those ancient eyes that flickered crimson, but then they seemed to shift and spin, and I realized that, no—they were orange…then…finally, they were the brilliant pale lemon chiffon of early morning clouds covering the sunrise.

He seemed to loom larger and I realized I had sunk to my knees. Tam had done the same beside me. In the core of my heart, I knew we were facing the beginning of the world, caught up in form. His aura flickered with a magic directly spun from the center of the earth. He was a child of Gaia, stretching back farther than any of the gods, any of the Fae or shifters or Weres.

How old he was, I couldn’t say, but the years seemed to whirl past as I gazed into his eyes. His lips, formed of leaves and vines, crinkled into the semblance of a smile and I had the sudden feeling we were still alive only by the grace of his nature. He could wipe us out, stomp us down, tear us to shreds with a single breath. I began to lower my head to press my forehead to the grass at his feet, when he stayed my movement with the tendril of a single vine reaching out to touch my shoulder.