The Rabbit and the Raven: Book Two in the Solas Beir Trilogy (14 page)

“How could you not? I’m a very important person,” David smiled, rubbing his arm. “Seriously though, I’m sorry for practically mauling you.
Come on—Cael and Eulalia have updates for us. Nerine will be coming to accept the post as Western Oracle, and we need to prepare for the ceremony.”

“Given that David made significant progress yesterday with his ability to transform, I would like to revise today’s training exercise,” Cael announced. “Rather than splitting you into teams, I want Abby, Jon, and Marisol to run into the forest and hide, while David tracks you using his animal senses.”

“We’re going to play hide-and-seek?” Jon asked.

“A version of it, I suppose. It is not just about David, though—I want you to use what you have learned about stealth to avoid being found. If he finds you, return here to wait for the others,” Cael instructed.

“Sounds good,” Marisol smiled.

“Excellent,” Cael said. “Oh, and David? Try not to eat your friends when you find them. Ready…set…run!”

“Wait—what? Is he serious?” Jon asked, hesitating. Marisol and Abby had already dashed into the forest.

“No, man, he’s joking,” David laughed. “Cael and a sense of humor—I know, it’s a wild concept. Better hurry, though. I won’t bite you…too hard.”

“Not cool, dude,” Jon said, and ducked into the trees.

Marisol had a plan for how to disguise her scent. She darted in the direction of a nearby stream. She sloshed in the shallow water and zigzagged from bank to bank several times before coming to a large tree overhanging the water. “This will do nicely,” she said, climbing up high into the branches. The leaves obscured her completely.

Abby ran in a different direction and circled a few trees to confuse David. Then she encountered a stream. She crossed to the other bank by teetering along a row of algae-covered rocks and then paused, trying to decide on a good hiding place.

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned to see that Brarn had joined her. He sat perched on a tree limb, watching her. “Hey there,” she said. “Any suggestions?”

The raven cocked his head in answer and then took flight, gliding low in front of Abby.

“Déjà vu. Last time I followed you like this, you led me to Eulalia. Wonder where we’re headed this time.”

Brarn flew over a small dip in the forest floor, which was carpeted in ferns, and then up over a hill, swooping under mossy branches, banking left and right as he navigated a maze of trees. It was all Abby could do to keep up with him. Finally the raven settled on the low branch of a tree in front of a solid mass of green. But it wasn’t solid—not quite.

“It’s another labyrinth,” Abby whispered to herself. “This really
is
déjà vu.” Just ahead of her was the entrance. “Shall I go in?” she asked the raven. “For old times’ sake?”

Brarn stared at her with his dark, gold-rimmed eyes.

“Not talking, I see,” Abby observed. “All right, wish me luck.” She stepped into the labyrinth and followed the path that wound around inside. It was more challenging than the smaller maze of hedges at the old mansion, but after encountering a few dead ends, she found herself in an open circular area that seemed to be the labyrinth’s center. There was a low stone bench on one side and a flat stone circle in the center. She studied the stone circle—there seemed to be some kind of writing on it—runes, perhaps. The strange carvings were so worn, she couldn’t tell. Then she heard a rustling movement behind her, and turned around.

Jon didn’t really know where he was going, so he ran one direction and then turned and ran the other way. He walked along fallen logs and hopped over the stream. At one point, he came across a series of tree stumps, so he climbed up on one and jumped from stump to stump.
Gotta throw David off,
Jon thought.
I
can’t
be the first one he catches.

He finally came to a hill. There was some kind of
small, fern-covered valley below, and a flat rock jutted out from the top of the hill, creating a stone lip that might make a great hiding spot.

But first, Jon would have to do something sneaky. He crept to the edge of the stone ledge and looked down—the drop looked to be maybe six feet, and the ground was soft. He jumped down and walked through the ferns until he reached the point where the stream cut the valley in two.

Then, he very carefully walked backward, placing his feet in his footprints until he was back to the point where he had landed. Here the ground was pretty scuffed up, but he didn’t think it mattered. It might actually help. He turned and leapt into the small alcove under the ledge, and hunkered down in a patch of ferns. He smiled to himself, satisfied with his strategy. From here he could enjoy the show.

David was enjoying his new form. He could run and run and his muscles did not seem to tire. Everything was different, more vibrant somehow—all his senses seemed magnified, especially his sense of smell. He could smell the three of them; Jon’s path seemed less focused than Marisol’s or Abby’s.

He sensed that Marisol might be nearby—her scent was the strongest. He followed her down one side of the stream, and was temporarily confused when the trail ended, until he realized Marisol’s strategy. He crossed the stream and sought her scent on the other side, tracking her back and forth until he came to a large tree. He found her scent on an exposed root that arched over the stream, then traced it up the bark of the tree. Looking upward, he thought he saw a slight movement, and his ears confirmed that someone was in the tree.

David slipped back into his regular form. “Very clever, Sol. But I’ve got you treed.”

“Darn,” Marisol said. “And I thought I was being so smart.” She climbed down.

“You
were
smart. I’m very impressed,” David said. “All right, off you go to hang out with Cael, and off I go to find Abby and Jon.” He changed back into a lion and crossed the stream, backtracking to a point where he had picked up Jon’s scent.

David smiled as he caught on to Jon’s stump-hopping trick and broke into a run as the scent got stronger. Standing on the stone ledge, he could see the soil disturbed below, and footprints leading away.
You were tricky, Jon. But not tricky enough,
David thought. He leapt from the ledge and followed the footprints, bounding over the stream. Here he lost the scent. He looked back across the water. There seemed to be a small cave under the ledge—it looked like some kind of gaping mouth. David paused, trying to decide if he should investigate or try to pick up Jon’s scent along the bank. Then he picked up on another scent.

In his hiding place, Jon was holding his breath. He clasped his hand over his mouth for fear David would hear him. He watched the lion follow the footprints, jump over the stream, and then pause and look back as if contemplating the alcove. Jon froze.
You can’t see me,
he thought.
Go away.
Then David did just that, tearing off at full tilt into the trees, as if repelled by the force of Jon’s thoughts.
No way,
Jon thought.
Did that actually work?

Out of the shadows of the labyrinth, a massive beast emerged. He was bigger than Calder had been, but while Calder had been a hairless, muscled brute, this feline creature was lean, muscled in a way that was beautiful and terrible at the same time. He had the look of a sophisticated and efficient killer—covered in thick, shiny fur with black-on-black stripes. He approached Abby with a menacing deliberateness, bearing long, primeval fangs.

“Hello, Rabbit,” the creature said as he circled her slowly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Abby could feel the beast’s hot breath on her skin.
Don’t show fear,
she thought, planting her feet in a fighting stance and drawing herself up to look taller, brawnier.
Look him straight in the eye. If you’re going to die, at least have a little dignity about it.
She stared into his eyes and spoke his name: “Tierney.”

The creature stared back, eyeing Abby’s clenched jaw and defensive stance, and then he smiled apologetically. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Tierney said. “I forget this face can be, shall we say, rather off-putting. Allow me to present a more pleasing visage.” His form changed, melting away like smoke, leaving black ashes lingering in the air. In the creature’s place stood a handsome young man with dark eyes—nothing like the beast he had just been.

Don’t be fooled by the illusion,
Abby told herself.
He’s the same monster he was before—it’s just a mask.
She stood her ground, infusing her voice with authority. “On the contrary. You
know
that face is off-putting. That’s why you wore it.”

To her surprise, Tierney started laughing—not a mean, condescending laugh, but one of genuine, unguarded amusement. It wasn’t quite the response Abby had expected.

“Well, now,” he chuckled, “you are a surprisingly perceptive one. Do you know why I’m here?”

“I assume it’s to get to the Solas Beir by killing me,” Abby said.

“Oh, come now, Rabbit, I’m hurt. I have absolutely no such plans. None at all,” Tierney replied.

“I have trouble believing that—your reputation precedes you,” she said.

“Well, dear Rabbit, a reputation is really quite subjective, don’t you think? And you must concede that
your
sources may be a bit biased when it comes to me.” He began circling her again, looking her up and down. “Actually, I’m here because I heard a very interesting story about
you
. And I must say, I think there’s more to you than I was originally led to believe. I heard that an ordinary human girl rescued the Lightbearer by killing a Blood Shadow—and not just any Blood Shadow, mind you, but one of the strongest among us. And I wondered to myself, an
ordinary
human girl? How can that be?”

Abby noticed that Tierney used the term “Lightbearer” rather than David’s formal title of Solas Beir. She didn’t think it was an accident. In fact, she was certain that Tynan Tierney never said or did anything that wasn’t calculated. “What is it you want, exactly?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

“Only to see if the story was true. I can see now that you’ve been underestimated. Clearly, you are no ordinary human girl. You are turning out to be
much
more interesting than I thought you would be, pretty little c’aislingaer,” he said.

Abby glared at him. “Thanks, but you can’t fool me into falling for flattery.”

Suddenly Tierney stepped close to Abby, his arms pulling her to him, his breath on her neck as he whispered in her ear. “No, indeed I cannot. For I have met many a fool, and you are not one.”

He was so warm, and his touch made her skin tingle, much to her chagrin. She fought to show no response, reminding herself to keep her guard up.

He continued, his lips almost grazing her skin as he talked. “What I want, Abigail, is to show you the truth—to help you see my side of the story so you can decide for yourself if my so-called reputation is deserved.” He pulled away suddenly, his head cocked to one side as if he had heard something.

Abby heard nothing.

Tierney turned back, his dark eyes on her. “Your boyfriend is coming. Better not let him catch you fraternizing with the enemy. Until we meet again, little Rabbit.” Taking her hand, he held it to his lips, kissing it with a disarming tenderness. Then he was gone—not in some magic puff of smoke, but simply not there anymore.

Abby heard the crack of a twig breaking as someone approached. Rather than feeling a sense of relief, she felt oddly guilty, like she had been caught in the act of doing something wrong. She had just survived what should have been a lethal encounter with a monster, but instead of being frightened of Tierney, she found herself attracted to him. And that terrified her.

“Abby?”

She heard someone calling her name and had a dizzying sense of being outside herself. Someone was touching her, as if they were trying to shake her awake. Her eyes were open, but somehow they weren’t. She blinked and found herself in David’s arms. He was cradling her on the ground, his hand supporting her head.

“Abby? Are you all right? Did you faint?” David asked.

“I—I don’t know…I was running during the training exercise, and I saw this labyrinth—I ran inside…” She was so dizzy—bile was creeping up her throat. She fought back the urge to vomit.

“Labyrinth?” he asked.

Abby nodded. “Yes, and it was so dark, and I—”

“Abby—there’s no labyrinth here.”

“What?” She sat up in David’s arms and looked around. The labyrinth was gone. She was lying in the center of a flat, circular meadow in the middle of the forest. The nausea left her, but her head beg
an to ache.