No Dominion (The Walker Papers: A Garrison Report) (11 page)

“She had help.” I wasn’t gonna go into it any more than that, but something in Brigid’s aura relaxed, which made me feel better. A guy doesn’t like making pretty women tense if he can help it.

A clatter from behind us made the three—four, counting the silent kid—of us straighten an’ look back, for all that I didn’t know if Bridey and Horns could see anything. The cave’s mouth was a cut-away of light, still not lettin’ any seep in, and the last of the Hunt’s riders had just passed through it. Between one breath an’ the next, the air got thicker, like I was tryin’ ta breathe in coal dust.

“Now,” the boy rider said. His colors were muted compared ta Cernunnos, but they were the same emeralds an’ jades, overlaid with a yellowish concern. “Now we are in his realm, Father. We do not belong here. Keep me close, or risk yourself.”

I was learning all kindsa interesting things. I wondered if Jo had an inkling that Cernunnos’s safety was tied up in the kid’s, but I bet she did. It didn’t seem like the kinda thing she’d share, though. She wasn’t the type to go around telling people how to hunt a god. Not unless she was the one who needed to hunt it, I guessed, but even then I wasn’t sure she’d want to let everybody else know what was in her arsenal. She still had some wild ideas about keeping the rest of us safe, or doin’ it all herself. I guessed that was part of why I loved her, and prob’ly part of why Mike Morrison did too, even if it made us both crazy sometimes.

“What’s that mean,” I asked, to distract myself. “We’re in his realm now, I reckon you mean the Master, but—we ain’t gone that far.”

“Can you not feel it?” Brigid asked.

I could, a’course, the way the air was closing in around us an’ a chill was coming up, but Jo and me had talked a lot about this Master fella and she was pretty certain he came from a lot deeper in the elemental planes than a walk through Irish countryside could allow for. On the wrong side of time or not, the country outside that cavern entrance was what Jo called the Middle World, the one ordinary folk lived in all the time. There was an Upper World, too, where she’d met a thunderbird, an’ a Lower World where a lotta demons were trapped, among other things. After dealin’ with the wendigo she’d told me she’d fallen through the Lower World into another level that looked a lot like Hell to her, an’
that
was a lot closer to where this Master was coming from. No way had we traveled that far, no matter how fast and wild the Hunt ran.

But in the middle of convincing myself of alla that, I tripped over the explanation. I looked around at the blackness tryin’ ta eat us all up, and said a word I’d learned in Korea that didn’t quite have a translation. Just as well, too. “I was thinking it looked like a hell hole when we rode up. You’re telling me it really
is
?”

“One of many. There are places on this earth where he has broken through and where his denizens are vomited up into our world.”

I wrinkled my nose like the image came with a smell. I wasn’t sure it didn’t, for that matter: the air sure wasn’t right. “So you’re saying it’s a hellmouth. That’s just dandy. I don’t suppose you got Buffy on hand to help deal with it?”

Their auras went flat. I guessed I couldn’t blame ‘em: Jo wouldn’ta known what I meant either, and she was at least from my end of time. Sometimes I thought the girl had deliberately stayed away from all the pop culture that talked about magic. Not consciously, maybe, but deliberately. When I’d met her she’d wanted nothing at all to do with magic, but over the past year it’d become clear she’d been aware earlier on in her life that it existed. I had to hand it to her: when Joanne ran away from something, she ran but good.

“It don’t matter,” I said as much to myself as Brigid. “Let’s get down there and lay this binding spell before any vampires claw their way outta the hellmouth to eat us.”

As soon as I said ‘em, I knew I was gonna regret those words forever. Maybe not straightaway, but it was the same as sayin’ “At least it ain’t raining,” and I knew better than to say something like that. Brigid’s aura sparked like she was telling me they’d known better than to say “At least it ain’t raining” in ancient Ireland, too, an’ then we made our way toward a dark light that started shining in front of us.

It didn’t get brighter, that light. It stayed steady until all of a sudden we were in a rough-hewn round room, and the weight of the cauldron pulled us toward it. It didn’t look like all that much: black iron beaten into shape with a hammer. It was big, I’d give it that, plenty big for a man to crawl into. I nudged Imelda a step toward it, then another, and each one got easier even though good sense told me they oughta be getting harder. But it was like huddling under a down comforter, too warm and heavy to throw off. Worse, I didn’t want to throw it off. My shoulders sank and my eyes got droopy. Another step or two and I could tip off Imelda’s back into the cauldron and nap, even if part of me was screamin’ that was a bad idea. I knew it was dangerous, but it was like swimming with the current: I wanted to go where it took me an’ not fight it. No wonder Jo had hated the thing. I shook myself and sat back to tell Imelda to stop. She did, her legs rigid and her body quivering like she was just waiting for the signal to get the hell outta there.

Cernunnos was even closer to the cauldron than I was, mesmerized by it. The stallion refused ta go any nearer, but the god leaned toward it, so drawn I could just about see ghostly hands inviting him in. Brigid said the name again, the one I couldn’t hear right, and Cernunnos snapped upright, then full-out retreated. No other word for it, and no grace or dignity to it either. He drove his heels into the stallion’s side and it jumped away, pressing itself up against a wall, as far from the cauldron as it could get.

Once Cernunnos was out of the way, the others crowded closer, led by the kid, whose face lit up with interest. Brigid finally took the reins again and guided the mare back toward Horns. She had to put her arm around the kid’s waist to keep him from getting off the horse, but even so, she kept the mare between Cernunnos an’ the cauldron. It made me wonder if it was easier for a mortal to resist the thing than an immortal, which didn’t make sense. I’d already pushed past the limits of threescore an’ ten, and the idea of crawling inside that cauldron scared the crap outta me. I reckoned if I was risking a guaranteed forever I could just about walk up and spit in its eye, but it didn’t look like Cernunnos was that certain.

A’course, it’d taken a near-immortal elf to create the cauldron. Maybe the longer the life, the more restful laying down the burden seemed. I figured that made me the least vulnerable rider in this room, which was an ugly thought. That said, somebody had to step up, or we were all gonna stand around here until people started jumping into the damned pot. “Horns!”

The god of the Wild Hunt flinched, then gave me a look that shoulda peeled the skin right off me. I grinned, showing teeth. “Can you keep that kid from riding off if you put him somewhere?”

Fury flew across his face. “Of course. I may be bound to him, but he lives by my sufferance.”

“Mmhnn. Kid, go stand in the…” I took a second to think about it. Jo always had some kinda logic and pattern to how she built power circles. “In the west,” I decided. “You can be the opposite power, setting sun opposing youth, which might oughta be the rising sun. An’ that puts…” I thought about it again, but Cernunnos interrupted.

“Me at the rising sun? I am the eldest here, and no doubt as his father am well suited to stand across from him.”

I said, “Yeah,” but I didn’t mean it. “Yeah, no. Because we gotta bind this thing in your name, and I’m not sure you oughta be part of the circle if we’re gonna do that. Bridey, what do you think?”

From her expression, I couldn’t tell what she thought, except for maybe that I was surprising her. After a thoughtful look, she shook her head. “Only four of us here are truly living. The riders have crossed beyond, and while they may someday return to mortal flesh it is not now their chosen path. The boy, myself, yourself and the lord of the Hunt must stand at the points of our compass, and Cernunnos…yes,” she finally said. “Cernunnos at the east, not only to stand opposite his bloodline, but for the hope of a new day. You are correct,” she said to me. “It would be best to have him stand separate, so the spell might be bound to him without mortal taint, but—”

I heard the rest of what she said, but that handful of words caught me. Mortal taint. I was willing ta bet that was why the bindings had finally failed, back on my end of time. If the cauldron coulda been bound to Cernunnos alone, maybe his doorway to forever woulda held it until the end of time. Maybe nobody else woulda had to die if we could’ve bound it to the god alone.

But the fact of the matter was, he had a mortal son, an’ that tied him to the wheel of time too, so maybe there was never any hope of it being a permanent solution. Maybe we had to settle for good enough, an’ I got into my place at the southern edge of our circle holding on to that idea. Good enough would see it through a few thousand years, and while it was lousy that anybody else would die because we could only manage good enough insteada perfect, at least it was only a few people instead of hundreds or thousands.

Brigid’s command brought me back: “Begin the spell, Master Muldoon. We’ll repeat it and bring what we can to it ourselves.”

I grunted. “Just like that, huh?” The damned spell I’d read with Jo had a buncha nonsense about gates and things that didn’t mean anything to either of us, but I reckoned if I wanted this to work I had to
make
it mean somethin’. Cernunnos was over there at the east, nothing between him and the risin’ sun except a chunk of hell hole. I said, “Ah, hell,” and threw myself into it as best I could.

“I call on the light to rise and bind thee. I call on the god who stands before me.”

Horns got the faintest bit of a smile, which somehow made me think I was heading in the right direction. Jo was gonna be amazed, hearing I was dancing through time casting spells. Figured that could get worked in too, and did my best: “I call on time to bend before me. I call on the wind, and the earth, and the sea. I call on fire to help bind thee.”

Stone cracked behind Cernunnos like it had heard me calling on it. A thin track of sunlight spilled through from way up above, lighting his ashy hair to silver and making his budding horns stand out in sharp relief. Brigid gasped and I looked her way. She held her hands out, fire blazing down from the tattoos banding her upper arms, not burning her. She was a conduit, not a martyr.

Wind howled down the crack in the stone, bringing fresh air that swept away the coal-thick taste in the cavern. The kid leaned into it with a fierce grin, and all of a sudden I heard his blood rushing like it was water on a shore. It made sense: water wore everything away, even immortality, an’ the kid was what tied Cernunnos to a mortal cycle. The idea flitted away, letting me concentrate on what I had to say. The others were chanting now, repeating what I’d said, and I threw everything I had at the cauldron. “In Cernunnos’ name I set this spell, and swear we four will hold it well. By these words and by our will, by our power and by our skill, we bind thee for eternity.”

Power slammed out of all four of us an’ crashed against the cauldron. It lit up in every color we carried, silver and white, red an’ gold, an’ a hundred shades of green from the god and the kid. Fire burned a pattern in it, an’ water ran in crashing waves all around. Time was fluid and liquid, splashing through and over everything, an’ earth grounded the thing. Then quick as a flash it was gone, but sunlight caught the cauldron’s curve. In it I Saw all the magic we’d just poured in, an’ I Saw how black rage boiled inside the cauldron but couldn’t get out. Every one of us staggered, exhausted, but after a couple seconds Cernunnos lifted his head to bare a grin like I never wanted ta see again. I didn’t notice mosta the time, but his teeth were pointed like a predator’s, an’ right then he looked like he was gonna go for a throat.

He didn’t, though. He just grinned, and through that grin, hissed, “He comes. We must not be here when the battle meets, else he will hold the advantage. Ride.
Ride
!”

CHAPTER FIVE

We burst outta the hellmouth like the Hunt was after us, not like we were them at all, an’ careened through the sky with dogs howling and birds screeching and all of us roaring from the bottoms of our souls. Roaring defiance at the dark god that was coming to mow us down, roaring triumph at having bound his cauldron into uselessness, roaring out our fear and our hope and our determination to go down like warriors. I felt like a kid again, a damned dumb kid back in Korea, usin’ my voice to scare away my own fears ‘cause I knew I’d never scare the enemy otherwise.

Brigid rode beside me, the boy tucked between her and the horse’s neck. She wore a leather breast plate over her white robes like it wasn’t worth commenting on that it had just appeared outta nowhere. But then, Jo conjured the sword I was currently wearing outta nowhere all the time, so it prob’ly
wasn’t
worth commenting on. I gave a shout meant to be a question. She glanced at the kid, yelled, “It’s to safety I’ll bring him now!” and peeled away from the rest of the Hunt, the gold mare thundering through the sky.

Cernunnos tried ta look like he wasn’t watching them go, but I caught him glancing after them anyway. He scowled. I shrugged, and under the howl of the Hunt, said, “You gotta do what you can to keep ‘em safe, Horns. It don’t always work, but we gotta try.”