Kevin Hearne - Hounded

“You can? You’re already finished with Snorri?” I looked over at Snorri, who was still lying on the ground as before but without all the needles in him.

“I am. He is healing now. And soon this one will do the same,” she said, kneeling down on her haunches and placing her tattooed hand on the werewolf’s cut leg. “Her name is Greta.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you I would come back to heal the Pack.”

“But you were the one who kidnapped Hal and Oberon and put them in a position to be harmed.”

Flidais hissed with impatience. “I did so only at the instruction of Brighid.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “What?”

“Do not pretend you cannot follow me,” she snapped. “You know us well, and we know you even better. Admit it, Druid: Without your friends being held hostage, there was a significant chance you would have simply fled the confrontation. Brighid did not want that to happen, so I provided Aenghus Óg with a lever to make sure you showed up to be attacked. Thus Brighid got what she wanted—the removal of a rival—and Aenghus got what he deserved.”

During this conversation, I missed what exactly Flidais did to remove the silver—I wanted to learn the trick, because it could come in handy later—but when I looked back down, the werewolf’s wounds were already beginning to close, and the last thing I wanted was to be in Flidais’s debt. I supposed I would have to find a lever against her.

I was flabbergasted by the extent to which I had been manipulated by various members of the Tuatha Dé Danann. I had indeed been a pawn for Brighid, Flidais, and the Morrigan—a pawn who took down two very troublesome gods. Still, there were clear blessings to be thankful for: I was still alive, and my worst enemy was in hell instead of angling to become First among the Fae. I could think of nothing else to say to Flidais that would not get me in trouble, so I took refuge in good manners.

“Thank you for healing the Pack, Flidais.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said, rising. “And now I get an even greater pleasure. Did you see that one of the large demon rams escaped?”

“Yes, I saw that. Big lad, he was.”

“I’m going after him now.” She grinned. “He’s had a decent head start. Rams like him are casters, you know. It’s going to be a fine chase, a finer battle, and he’ll be a choice trophy on the wall of my lodge.”

“Happy hunting.”

“Fare you well, Druid,” she said, and then she sprinted toward Haunted Canyon, using who knew what for energy in this wasted land. The Tuatha Dé Danann obviously had access to a power source that I did not—but I could see now that they had labored for millennia to preserve the fiction that they were as limited as Druids were. Perhaps it did not matter anymore to keep it a secret: Who was I going to tell?

What’s that, buddy?

That’s exactly what I feel too, Oberon .

He turned his head toward Snorri and pricked up his ears.

She’s my new apprentice. Well, half of her is, anyway .

Not sure about that yet. Let’s go meet her . I waved good-bye to Greta the werewolf, who was out of danger now, and Oberon barked a farewell. We loped over to where Dr. Jodursson was healing—he looked as if he wanted to sleep, but that was doubtless impossible with the pack link overflowing with bloodlust at the moment.

“Thanks for taking one for the team, Snorri,” I said. Oberon chimed in with a sort of rolling bark— roo-woo-wooof .

Snorri snorted his acknowledgment but otherwise didn’t move.

Laksha walked up behind Snorri, holding her nose. “Smells like demons,” she complained.

“Nice job on Radomila,” I said.

“Did she have the necklace?”

“Yes, she did.” I held it up so she could see her bloody treasure. “The rest of the coven is just about finished off, so you won’t need to use its power on them. Here you go, as promised.”

She took the necklace from me and smiled. “Thank you. It is a pleasure to work with a man who keeps his word.”

“I am actually going to help you keep the remaining part of your bargain,” I said.

“Oh?” Her eyes narrowed. “How so?”

“I’m giving Granuaile thirty thousand dollars to fly back east and find you a suitable host. Once you wake up in your new body, she’ll give you the rest to get yourself set up somewhere, minus her airfare home.”

“You have this kind of money to give away?”

I shrugged. “Ten grand just came from the coven. As for the rest, I live simply and I make a killing on long-term investments. Send me a postcard when you get settled; let me know how the karma rehab is going.”

Laksha chuckled and shoved the bloody necklace into Granuaile’s pocket. “I have no problem with this. Thank you for your consideration.”

“Thank you for taking care of Granuaile.”

“She is a sweet child, and very bright. She will make a good Druid.”

“I agree. May I speak with her now?”

“Certainly. Farewell.” Granuaile’s head drooped, and when it came back up she staggered backward and covered her face with her hands.

“Fauggh! What is that fucking smell? Oh my God, it reeks! I can’t—can’t—” She couldn’t finish her sentence because she was too busy vomiting on the side of the trail.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that,” I said. “Sorry. You kind of get used to it after a while.” Granuaile vomited again by way of reply, and it occurred to me that I hadn’t actually answered her question, and she might jump to the wrong conclusion if I didn’t say something soon. “It wasn’t me,” I assured her. “I swear it wasn’t me. That’s demons you’re smelling.”

“Whatever it is,” she gasped, “do we have to stay here for long? Because I don’t think—” She retched again, but now it was dry heaves. Part of me was finding this very interesting. Laksha had obviously been using the same nose as Granuaile, so the two had been exposed to the exact same stimuli, but Laksha had shown no urge to vomit so violently. It suggested that the physical reaction was even more psychologically based than I had previously supposed.

“Well, I have to stay and wait for the pack to return, but you could go back up the trail a little way until you can stand it. There’s nothing pretty to see here.”

“Then why did you have me come back here?”

“Precisely because there’s nothing pretty to see here. I wanted to give you a last chance to back out of our arrangement. You’re about to become an initiate in the world of magic, and that world can sometimes be brutally violent and smell as evil as it actually is. Breathe through your mouth and look around.”

“It’s all dark.”

Oh, duh. My binding had snapped when I lost my energy and Aenghus Óg had drained the earth. Laksha clearly had used her own methods of seeing in the dark to get here. Using some more of the Morrigan’s power, I gave Granuaile night vision again, and she looked at the meadow full of corpses.

“My God,” she said. “Did you do all of this?”

“Everything except the witches and the two werewolves. But I had lots of help staying alive tonight. By rights I should be dead. And you should know that magic users rarely die peacefully in their sleep. So I want you to think about what you’re looking at and what you smelled as you take Laksha back east. I don’t want you entering into this with any romanticized ideals. And if you’d rather not be my apprentice when you come back, I will understand, no hard feelings, and I’ll make sure you get a good job to replace the one you quit today.”