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Authors: Kim Falconer

BOOK: Strange Attractors
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Selene tilted her head. ‘Pardon?’

‘I need you to take the lad.’

‘Take him where?’ Shane asked.

‘Take him with you. It’s no good for him here. He needs people his own age, opportunities, you know? Can you help?’

Shane was speechless. What parent would give up her child to strangers?

‘May?’ Selene frowned. ‘Is he your son?’

‘Oh, goodness no. He came like you, from the river. All things come here from the river. Everything’s in the chest. Who knows? Maybe even your map will be there.’

Shane cleared his throat. ‘He came from the river?’

‘That he did. Was standing naked and shivering just as you were, wasn’t he, Halo?’ She patted her thigh and the dog got up and stretched deep, his tail wagging in loops.

‘How long ago was that?’ Shane asked.

May ignored the question. ‘He’s been good company, as have you, but I’d appreciate it if you could all be on your way by morning. I’ve things to do.’

Shane looked around the small cabin. ‘Of course.’

‘The river chest?’ Selene said. ‘Would we be able to have a look at it? Not to take anything, but maybe we would find some clue to our whereabouts.’

‘Well, there’s a question no one’s asked before.’ She smiled. ‘Why not?’ She braced her arms and pushed herself out of her chair. ‘This way with you. It’s all up in the loft. Everything the river brings, I’ve kept it there.’ She led the way, the stairs creaking under her weight as they climbed.

C
HAPTER
7
C
ORSANON
& R
IVERLANDS
, G
AELA

R
all smiled as she walked the halls of Temple Corsanon. It was wonderful—her cloak flowing out behind her, the sweet scent of lilac in her hair, the clip of new boots on the polished floorboards, and the grace of her familiar body—an exhilaration she hadn’t felt in years. Throwing off the glamour of the old hag was like diving into a crystal-clear pond. But it had been worth the discomfort, masquerading for so long. And now this was her chance—what she’d been waiting for. The time had finally come. She was back in the temple and only steps away from reaching her goal. Thank the goddess her stint in old Corsanon was over and she could get to where she belonged—to her true place, her heart’s desire.

Can you hear me?
She sent the message cautiously, her mind shield tight.

There was no answer, but she knew her familiar was not far away. She would free him, any moment,
and they would be off. She passed a few initiates who acknowledged her rank, the young women stopping to offer greetings. Around the next corner a priest in dark red robes paused, hoping to engage her, but she waved him off. It wouldn’t be questioned nor remembered. Not tonight. Not with Corsanon about to burn to the ground. Her smile deepened. Would the fires have started yet? If she knew An’ Lawrence at all, they would be raging by now.

She listened for the alarm bells but the only sounds she caught were the drums coming from the dance hall and waves of distant laughter, like chimes in a thunder storm. She paused, putting thought into the weather. In moments she’d conjured a breeze then reinforced it, encouraging it to grow. A strong northwesterly would spread the fires across the city before any witch could pray rain. She snapped her fingers and her ringlets were whisked back from her face, the draught racing to catch up with its own. She quickened her pace.

Corsanon was still silent and she knew there was just enough time to set the bird free. She chuckled. Set herself free, she meant. Kreshkali wasn’t the only witch who could be in two places at once, and Rall’s years of relentless glamouring in the filth and stench of lower Corsanon were about to pay off. Her training of the children was going to pay off as well. She had to keep the girl in line, though. That young witch brewed plans of her own. She could taste them on the back of her tongue. With the other gone, her strength had doubled, though the girl didn’t notice. Not yet.

Rall had called them her ‘encontras’, the opposed twins—though they were not linked by blood. One was light, with honey hair and a bright smile, her heart
sweet as magpie chortles, the other dark, reticent, with no mental voice at all, not one that she could hear anyway. She sighed. Shaea and Xane had been her apprentices, though they’d never known it. Now Xane was lost. Rall shook her head. She only needed one of them, and hopefully Shaea was the right one.

She closed her eyes, tuning into the girl. She was waiting at the entrance as instructed. Good lass. Rall had one more trap to set and then the lot of them could spring. She broke into a jog. As long as she hadn’t been spotted, nothing could stop her. Rall turned the last bend of the long covered walkway and ran straight into an ambush.

A heavy net dropped her to the ground before she could respond. It carried a spell that burned her skin, searing through her fine robe and chewing her flesh. She twisted and turned, shrieking as she called in the Elementals to blast her way out. She had less than a second to escape. ‘Demons to you,’ she shouted.

There was a gap overhead and she morphed, shooting towards it with every bit of her strength, the blast of energy making her captors cry out.

‘Get the cage,’ one yelled. ‘And mind the wings! We have her now.’

Others were not so sure. They rubbed their singed arms, some still trying to open eyes that had been scorched by the shock wave of Rall’s transformation.

In raven form Rall strained towards the opening in the net but was slammed back, dazed by a blow. She heard the clank, an iron door locking, and she cursed, folding her wings over her back. Rall had not planned on this event, nor had La Makee.

Kreshkali walked her horse out of the portal, the mare’s hooves crunching in the gravel path that led from the
corridors into the fresh night air. Jarrod followed with Teg behind in wolf form.

Lie down before you drop
, she said to the Lupin. He limped after her, his tail dragging.
I’ll wake you when we make a decision.

Teg didn’t protest but stumbled to a grassy hollow and circled a few times before collapsing, the tip of his tail covering his nose. He sighed, closing his eyes.

‘I’m glad I was never your apprentice,’ Jarrod said, shaking his head. ‘You’re a hard taskmaster, Kali.’

‘I’m meant to be.’ She was only half listening. The view of Temple Corsanon, a silhouette in the valley below, captivated her. She’d never seen it before the wars and the illustrations in the history books didn’t do it justice. There was splendour in the simplicity of its design. The landscaped pathways were lined with glowing lanterns, like twinkling stars from her perspective, and music played on the wind. It sounded like a festival night and the moon was indeed full overhead. What had brought An’ Lawrence here, she couldn’t imagine. If he’d been after a High Priestess for Rosette, he could have searched a lot closer to home.

She turned away, catching the wisp of smoke snaking towards the stars. A red ember glow pulsed beneath the highest turret in the city, expanding like a sunrise as she watched. Somebody had lit a match under Corsanon, and she had a fair idea of who that might have been. She leaned towards Jarrod and spoke softly. ‘That’s the citadel tower.’ She pointed towards the smoke. ‘It’s got his mark all over it, don’t you think?’

‘His, and hers as well, I’ll wager, but I don’t hear any alarms.’

‘Give it time.’

A whoosh cut through the air as the Three Sisters swooped in from the south, their voices muted, wings beating fast. Kreshkali had asked them to scope the city and not make a sound.

‘There’s a first,’ Jarrod whispered.

‘They can be quiet, if they have to.’ She straightened as one raven back-winged onto her shoulder, the other two finding perches in the beech trees beyond.

‘What do they say?’ Jarrod asked, stroking the fine black feathers as the bird tilted her head to the side. Her mouth opened but still no sound came out.

‘The city’s in turmoil. The fire has started in the lower level of the citadel,’ Kreshkali said.

‘You mean the dungeon.’

She nodded. ‘One and the same, but they don’t like to use that word.’ She frowned. ‘It’s starting to jump from roof to turret. Spreading fast.’

‘With this wind, it will consume everything to the river before long. I don’t remember that in the history books.’

‘Me neither, but I’m guessing the Sword Master is no longer a guest of the Corsanon guards,’ she said.

‘Do you think he needs help?’

‘If he does, he’s not calling me.’ She looked over her shoulder at Teg. He was sound asleep in the hollow, curled tight in his Lupin form, his breathing finally coming in long, steady streams.

‘Reluctant to leave him behind?’ Jarrod asked.

‘I am.’ She turned back to the glowing city, shading her eyes, searching for clouds. ‘We need to raise a storm, fast.’

I can do that, Mistress.

Hairs prickled on her arms and she turned to Teg.
Not so deep asleep after all.

I’m fit to travel, Mistress, and to conjure.
Teg sent
the mental message before appearing at her side. He hadn’t made a sound, though she saw he still favoured his hind leg, even in wolf form.

‘Are you certain? We can’t have you leaving a trail of blood wherever we go. Too easy to track.’

Jarrod stifled a laugh. ‘Gentle, Kali. He was wounded trying to protect them, remember?’

She clicked her tongue. ‘Trying is the operant word.’

Teg didn’t cringe but faced his mentor. His tongue lolled out and he licked his chops.
What is your pleasure, Mistress?

She crossed her arms. ‘I want you to stay put. I know you still have a shocking headache. It would only be worse bipedal. Besides, we’re planning on riding at the gallop. You wouldn’t keep up in either form.’

I will keep up, Mistress.

‘And I
will
that you stay.’

Jarrod led the horses forward, the black mare placid as a lamb, the gelding snorting at Teg but otherwise controllable. They mounted and Kreshkali shortened her reins as the mare bunched her muscles. The horse was on familiar ground, excited and ready to run.

‘Teg, you’re not going anywhere and if you can’t follow my directive this time—staying here until we return—you’ll not find another apprenticeship on Earth or Gaela until you’re an old grey wolf. Do those instructions confuse you in any way?’

Teg sat on his haunches.
No, Mistress. No confusion.

‘I do have a task for you, though,’ she said, smiling as he sprang up, wagging his tail. ‘Two really. Bring in those clouds from the east. Pray rain. I want a downpour inside the hour.’

‘You don’t ask for much, Kreshkali,’ Jarrod said, holding the palomino back.

She ignored the comment. ‘And keep an eye on the temple. If you see a strange energy signature, one you think does not belong, I want to hear about it immediately.’

Yes, Mistress. I will.

‘And I mean
hear
about it, Teg, that’s all. You’re to tell me. Nothing else. We won’t be long.’ She turned to Jarrod. ‘We’ll skirt the city and enter through the quarry road.’

‘There’s a road through the rocks?’ he asked.

‘It’s more like a goat track, but it’ll get us in the back way. Teg, stay occult, and if you get a stitch, I want to know about that too.’

If I’m spotted?

‘Best you morph without being seen. Otherwise, you’d be very hard to explain.’

I would?

‘I have a feeling this is a Gaela before the first Lupin ever showed his lovely face to the temple priestesses of Corsanon. You may be nothing but a myth here, and if the history is right, it didn’t portray you in a very pleasant light. Let’s not put it to the test.’ A cloud passed over the moon and she urged her mare into a canter, heading towards the burning city.

Shaea waited by the entrance, partly in the shadows to keep from being approached yet close enough to the light so Rall could spot her easily. What was keeping that old woman? Shaea frowned. Old woman? Rall wasn’t the toothless old skeleton any more, and it made Shaea wonder if she ever had been. There was so much to think about this day, she hadn’t had time to sort any of it out. All she knew was the voice at the portal wanted Rall, and she was going to do everything in her power to deliver her. Now that she
had tasted another side of life, she had no intentions of going back to the gutter, ever again.
Oh, Xane. If only you could be here too.

She watched the temple priestesses come and go, some taking a carriage to the city, others walking arm in arm with young men under the starlight. The gardens were extraordinary, lit with stone lanterns and planted to offer a meditative beauty. The paths led to ponds and fountains with benches in front of them for quiet thought. She was surrounded by tiered flower beds, sculptures and exotic shrubs; the contrast to her usual traps was striking. Rall had told her all about the temple, but she never fully believed anything could be so lush, and so clean. As Shaea inhaled the night-blooming jasmine and watched for shooting stars, she was convinced old Rall had lived here once. How else could she know so much about it?
I wonder what in the world would have made her leave?

No witch in their clear mind would alienate themselves from such a wondrous place. Shaea chuckled at her joke. Old Rall had never been in a clear mind, at least not that Shaea could remember. Xane had cautioned her more and more to keep an eye on the witch. He never fully trusted her and didn’t like Shaea spending so much time in the old woman’s presence. Not that he could do much about it. He wasn’t around, and Shaea didn’t like being alone, especially at night.

She drew in her breath, trying to forestall the tears. She’d held them back so far; she could do it for a little longer. She could do it forever if need be. The shock of Xane’s death helped at first. It allowed her to detach, like being in a dream where nothing connected in the usual way. She’d done everything—buried him, followed the strange witches, hidden from the troops,
talked to the portal—in an emotionally suspended state. Next her focus was directed towards getting Rall and herself out of the city. With that accomplished, all that was left to do was get back to the portal. They would disappear, leaving Corsanon behind forever. Shaea didn’t know where the portal led, but it had to be a better place than where she had lived so far.

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