Through the Veil (18 page)

Even though the Ikacado demons were formidable bastards, they acted more like coyotes. They didn’t attack outright. They stalked. They hunted. They looked for the weakest link: the old, the sick, the young—the solitary.

If it wasn’t for her magick, the old woman probably looked like a damned feast to them: old, weak . . . alone. But Eira
did
have her magick. Typical Ikacado wouldn’t have wanted to fight that, not without a hell of a lot more firepower—literally—on their side.

They would have left her alone . . . right?

Unless . . . what if Eira had gotten hurt
before
the Ikacado showed up? What if she’d gotten hurt, or sick . . . Oh, hell. That would have explained it. More of that weird knowledge flickered through her head. Ikacado were scavengers by nature, usually bypassing anything that could put up much of a fight.

Lee drew close, pressing her back to a tree and peering out at the horde of Ikacado with narrowed eyes. The things couldn’t see too well unless magick was being lobbed around—Lee bit her lip as she absorbed that piece of information.

All the statistical kind of information filtering into her head wasn’t going to do her any good. Because Lee was in no way ready to fight something like that. What she needed was a good, old-fashioned cell phone, or this world’s version of it, so she could make a 911 call. Lee had gotten this far. But she didn’t know where to go from here and she was likely to end up dead.

A misshapen head turned her way, and she eased back out of sight, pressing against the tree. Closing her eyes, she prayed silently. This is stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

High-pitched, chittering shrieks rang out. Had they seen her? But before that thought had even really circled through her head, she knew the answer. The words made sense when they shouldn’t . . .

I don’t want her. She’s old. Old power is tough. I want something fresh. Let’s go to the human camp. We can find one of the guards.

I’m not going there.

Coward! Humans
—
bah. Thin-skinned things. They break and tear too easy.

Lee wanted to press her hands to her ears to block out those ugly, alien voices. It was almost easier if she didn’t understand. Because now she had to wonder, what else did she know?

You know how to hurt them.
This voice spoke to her from inside her own head, sounding oddly like her—yet not.

Everything inside her went still. That curtain wasn’t just parting and letting little bits filter through. It was like it had been ripped wide open and she could see herself standing on the other side. Well, at least, it looked like her. Physically.

She wasn’t just looking at a reflection, either. She could hear herself arguing. With herself. The urge to laugh wildly and hysterically rose inside her as she met her other self ’s gaze. The blue eyes were her own, but they were filled with cynical, cool knowledge that made Lee feel vaguely useless.

Fight them. You know how.

No. I don’t
.

That reflection of herself smiled a little.
Yes, you do. Fire creatures do not like anything that is not what they are. They are fire. Be what they aren’t.

Then the curtain dropped again, cutting off the weird, internal dialogue. Once more, Lee felt like she was alone in her head. Alone and totally, completely confused. A little scared, too, because as much as she’d like to write everything off as a hallucination, as much as she might like to think she was suffering a mental breakdown and that was the root of the strange twists her life had taken, Lee knew she couldn’t.

It was all real. Every last bit of it was truly, completely happening. That was what really scared her. Bravado worked wonders, though, even when she used it on herself. Instead of acknowledging that fear and letting it swamp her, she muttered, “Great. Not only am I arguing with myself, I’m doing it in riddles.”

Then she edged out and found herself staring with measuring eyes at the Ikacado.
Be what they aren’t.

They were fire. Their skin glowed a dull ruddy orange. They didn’t look hot, and from where Lee stood, she didn’t feel heat. But she could almost remember battling them. Heat that scorched, melted and burned. She slid her gaze just a little to the left. Up against a tree, she saw a slumped, still form. Eira . . . she wasn’t moving. She was alive. Lee didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. Hurt, but alive.

Be what they aren’t.

Everybody insisted that she had some kind of magick inside, learned and forgotten. None of that made sense to Lee. Nothing made much sense right now. All Lee knew was that Eira was hurt, probably in serious trouble, and Lee was the only one close enough to do anything. Too damn bad Lee felt like she couldn’t fight her way out of a wet paper bag, at least not in this world. Back home, she might be confident enough in her abilities to defend herself.

Here? Different story. But that voice inside her head kept whispering, and she knew it wasn’t going to shut up anytime soon.

The knowledge is already inside you
—
stop fighting what you are . . . what we are.

Scrunching her eyes closed, Lee muttered, “Damn it, I’ve gone and developed another personality on top of my other problems.”

Then she opened her eyes. Looked down at her hands.

She could do this.

The Ikacado were talking, gathering together and murmuring to themselves.
Hungry . . . the camp. Wait until they go scouting, then we could . . .

Lee narrowed her eyes.
My ass, you will
. Not that these things would likely pose much threat to Kalen or his camp. Not enough of them, and Kalen’s people were too well trained, too disciplined to make the kind of fatal mistake the Ikacado were hoping for. But she’d be damned if she’d risk it.

Be what they aren’t . . .
The voice was seductive, compelling. It kept whispering to her over and over, until Lee was more focused on the voice than on what was happening in front of her. Lulled by that compelling, demanding voice, Lee was only vaguely aware that she had moved. She never realized how pale she had become. How cool her skin was getting. Her feet moved, but she didn’t feel connected to the movement in any way. She didn’t feel the ground beneath her feet and she didn’t feel the wind blowing hot on her face.

All she was aware of was that voice in her head.
Be what they aren’t . . .
The high-pitched chitter of their speech hit her ears, but this time it didn’t make much sense. It served like a bucket of cold water thrown in her face, though, and she realized just how close she stood to them.

She couldn’t hear anything past the roaring in her ears. Some part of her was terrified, but that terror never made it to the surface. Confidence settled over her like a cloak, and Lee faced them down and knew she wasn’t afraid. They couldn’t beat her.

One rushed for her, touched her like he was going to knock her to the ground. He fell away screaming, as if the touch of her skin hurt him. Another lunged for her. She lifted one hand and it felt like somebody else was controlling her movements—a puppet on a string.

Something white and gleaming launched out from her palm—icy cold. It struck the lone Ikacado in the chest and Lee watched as it fell down, its dull orange skin turned black.

Two more were left on their feet, and both attacked. She went down under them, the weight of them crushing her into the ground. Clawlike nails tore at her flesh, and fists that felt like lead weights pummeled her. Their touch burned. She wanted to scream.

She sucked in badly needed air and nearly choked as the heat of it blistered her lungs. The temperature of the air had risen with the fury of the Ikacado, and it was burning her, burning her alive. Their hands were hot on her body, and they grew hotter with their fear. It scalded her, and dimly she was aware of the pain, but her mind shoved it away before she could even begin to analyze it.

Lee screamed out in fury, and as she did, something changed. Ice surrounded her, and flesh that had been scorched and hot was suddenly cold. The Ikacado crushing her into the ground screamed out—their rising voices blended in the air, a symphony of anger and pain, and then abruptly, it was cut off, as the rushing in her ears grew to a cacophonic roar. Bright, blinding pain flashed behind her eyes.

Vaguely, she realized she was freezing. Ice cold. And wet—rivulets of something hot and thick flowed over her body. The things were gone. Nothing grabbed at her and the high-pitched, enraged chittering of the demons had gone silent.

But none of that mattered because that pain in her head was expanding, and even if the demons were still there, they wouldn’t have a chance to kill her. The pain was going to do it.

Something touched her ankle, and that icy shroud that wrapped around her seemed to grow. It expanded. There was another screaming growl. A wave of darkness washed up and pulled her under.

SIX

Damn it all to hell.

Kalen felt the cold wind dance along his flesh, and for one second, he almost froze from the terror. All morning, he had been cooped up in one of the watchtowers with Laisyn and Dais, debating over whether or not they should send for reinforcements from the east. They needed them, desperately. Laisyn, the only other witch with moderately noticeable power, had agreed.

Laisyn wasn’t the powerful witch that Eira was, but she was a wonder with the smaller magicks. Not to mention the fact that she had been born a fighter, not forced into it by lack of choice. Even if they had lived in a peaceful world, Laisyn would have found a way to fight, and win. She understood strategy, she understood that loss of life was inevitable in war, but she never lost her compassion, unlike many wartime leaders.

Her jet black hair was cut close to her skull, and her ice blue eyes had focused as she listened to Dais explain the risk of sending for reinforcements and why he felt they needed to wait and see how things progressed before takingthat risk. Then she had politely dismissed him and repeated her own assessments. “We’re running out of time, Kalen,” she’d said, her words an eerie echo of his own gut feelings.

Dais would have argued the point for hours, but the flicker from the gate had made Kalen’s decision for him. Laisyn had sensed activity from the gate as well. It wasn’t even midday when they felt the ripple. It was brief, very brief, but the gate had flickered for a few moments, and he knew something had come through.

Brief or not, it spelled trouble. The gate hadn’t been active long enough to disrupt the energy flow, but it was still bad news. It wasn’t even close to night, and the Warlord bastards rarely tried to use the gate during the day. For reasons unknown, the gates’ powers were far too erratic during the day. With the sun still burning its way behind a thin veil of clouds, they should have had a few more hours of relative peace.

“I’ve made my decision, Dais. Laisyn, find a small team and get them on their way. I want them out of here before noon.” Laisyn acknowledged his orders with a respectful nod before she left in silence. Dais opened his mouth, probably to object, but Kalen shook his head. “I don’t have the time or the patience for this.”

As if to underscore those words, the power swelling through the air spiked, and Kalen took off at a run, following the trail of power. As he tracked it, rage and fear tangled inside him. He knew that power, recognized it as well as he would his own. Kalen knew the scent and feel of it. It was Lee. He had no doubt, no question of that. It was more magick than he’d expected to feel from her for a while—deadly and controlled, the way her magick should feel.

He also sensed the oily, slippery darkness of demon magick. Ikacado demons, he suspected. This was bad, bad news, and it was just getting worse. The gate opening during the day, a pack of Ikacado—the feel of Lee’s magick in the air and the conspicuous absence of Eira’s.

He felt a whisper of power touch his mind. “Whatever it is, you have to handle it, Morne,” he barked as he ran through the woods. He clutched his plasma rifle in one hand and a long, wickedly curved blade in the other. He used the blade to cut through the manderkay vines that hung down from decaying trees and tried to wrap around anything that passed underneath. “I’ve got a mess on my hands.”

A bigger mess than you think. Sirvani, my friend, and moving close.

“Bloody hell.” He didn’t waste his breath talking out loud anymore.
We need reinforcements in the clearing along the eastern boundaries.
He cut off his mental link with Morne and focused on Lee.

The trail of magick was fading fast. He needed a transport. Fucking transports. Bring in a transport and he ran the risk of the wyrms. So he continued on foot, running through the woods and praying he’d make it in time. He was getting closer—closer, but the power trail was gone. His gut knotted. He didn’t sense the Ikacado either.

Magick didn’t just stop like that. An abrupt end to a power trail could only mean one of two things—the magick worker was dead or seriously injured. An ugly dark inkling moved through his mind, but he cut the thought off before it could fully form. She was fine. He hadn’t waited for her all this time only to lose her so quickly.