Eileen Wilks - Blood Magic

Isen laid his hand on Toby’s head. “You will. And whether you believe such promises or not, I promise it. Go with Sybil now.”

The child tender led Toby away. He would wait with her at the Center, with other children whose fathers went to battle tonight.

That was a small number. Only those with charms to guard them from mind-magic would fight, and even going without sleep, the Rhej had been able to make only ten of those in the twenty-six hours since Lily and Cynna were taken. She’d used a spell from the memories to make those charms . . . a spell lost to the rest of the world since before the founding of Rome. A spell that been used in the Great War, and not since.

Those charms should protect against the Chimei—but they didn’t know how much. Lupi had never fought against Chimei. They wouldn’t know how well the charms worked against this particular enemy until they faced her.

But though only a dozen would fight tonight, in a few moments, all of Nokolai would be at war. If neither Rule nor his father came back from tonight’s battle, Benedict would be Nokolai’s Rho—and he would continue the war.

This, for lupi, was the meaning of war: it didn’t end until the enemy was defeated. There might be lulls, but there were no truces.

All lupi had been at war with one enemy—their Lady’s enemy—for more than three thousand years. That she had been far from their realm and untouchable for most of that time changed nothing. They remained at war with the Great Bitch, and would until she was dead or forever defeated.

Isen gathered his two living sons with a glance. The three of them strode into the waiting throng.

The crowd of lupi fell silent. Waiting.

When the three men reached the center of the field, they halted. Rule and Benedict stationed themselves to either side of their Rho and a couple paces back.

Isen raised his arms and his voice. “Nokolai! You have heard of our enemies. You know what they have done. Twice they attacked one of ours—at a baby party, and at the hospital. Twice they failed. And now they have stolen our Chosen, touched by the Lady—”

Growls erupted from more than three hundred throats not designed for growling.

“They have stolen her, and our Rhej’s apprentice. You know Cynna. You know she is with child, carrying a clan babe, a lupus babe. They threaten her. They threaten the baby.”

The growls were louder this time. A few of the younger men lost control and Changed.

“But Cynna is more than a mother, precious as that is. They have stolen she who will carry the clan’s memories! She who will bring the Lady among us! Lady-touched, both of them—Chosen and Rhej-to-be, both taken!”

Now they howled—human and lupine throats alike.

“Our enemies are powerful. Make no doubt of that. One—the Chimei—is ancient and canny, and cannot be killed. She can control the perceptions of hundreds at a time. She feeds on fear. I am told that if she is allowed to fully manifest herself, she will be more powerful than any who have walked this earth since the Great War. Her sorcerer has power, too, and spells we can’t guess at, and he shares some of her immunity to damage, so he will be hard to kill. And together they have allies, human gangs. This is no small thing we do, going against such foes.”

The answering growls were low, and to Rule’s ears said clearly, “Who cares?”

“But we have a sorcerer, too. And allies of our own—some here, some elsewhere.” Isen waved—and a huge black shape descended from the sky to land at the far end of the field. He had riders, two human shapes who bestrode his shoulders near the base of the neck. One was female, and old. One was male and recovering from a heart wound—and very good with fire.

“Nokolai.” Now Isen’s voice dropped to a normal level. Every man and wolf on the field fell silent, straining to hear. “Our Rhej has spoken to me—because the Lady has spoken to her.”

Utter silence. There was no shifted foot, no slightest rustle of clothing, no quickly indrawn breath.

“The Lady gave our Rhej one word.” His voice was quiet now, conversational. Only lupus hearing enabled those at the edges of the crowd to hear. “One word.” He waited, then boomed, “Nokolai—I cry war!”

THEglowing lightbulbs didn’t turn off. It was hard to tell time in a windowless room where the light didn’t change. Had they been there two days? It was more than one day, Lily thought, but she didn’t know how much more.

“Gin,” Cynna said, spreading her cards.

“You’re going to clean me out of my imaginary millions.”

“I’m up by three hundred big ones, by my count. You’re not paying attention.”

No, she was too busy worrying.

Rule had found her already. She’d felt him draw close, then linger in one spot perhaps a hundred yards away. And then he’d left. He’d left a very long time ago.

He needed to plan, she told herself. Whatever he planned might take time to pull together. That made sense. The long delay did not mean something had happened to him. He was alive; she knew that much.

But wouldn’t Kun Nu enjoy having a second hostage to use against Lily? Wouldn’t she relish the shock as she dumped Rule’s unconscious body in the little prison with Lily and Cynna?

Lily pushed to her feet. “I’m not good at waiting. I’m not good at not doing something. I’m going to do some stretches.”

“That’s part of Bird Woman’s plan, making us wait. Making you wait, I should say,” Cynna said matter-of-factly as she gathered the cards again. “She doesn’t care if I get antsy and jumpy, but she’s hoping you do.”

“I know. I still need to move.”

There was one small open space of floor between the bunks and the cot. Lily lay down there, trying to focus on her body and breath. She stretched her arms over her head.

The earth groaned. And twitched.

It was a quiet sound, almost a grumbling, as if the rocks around them had a minor complaint—one they threw off with a little shudder Lily felt all along her body.

She looked at Cynna and saw the fear in her friend’s eyes, a fear that matched her own. Then, determinedly, she began her yoga stretches.

This was the third time they’d heard the noise. The third time the earth had trembled. The first time it happened, Lily had been hit by the irrational hope that the little shudder might somehow mean help was coming, even though she knew Rule wasn’t near.

Cynna’s guess was more likely. “Is it her?” she’d whispered. “Is she pulling a shake, rattle, and roll on us?” Lily had had no trouble figuring out what she meant. The Chimei might well be causing mini-quakes to scare them.

If so, she’d hit on a great technique. There was a crack in one wall now, up near the ceiling. Dust sifted down from that crack as Lily brought her knees to her chest.

It was also possible that the little tremors had nothing to do with them or the Chimei. This was California. Quakes happened.

LIKEany war, this one involved a good deal of waiting.

It was after midnight. Rule lay flat on his stomach in the dirt, taking advantage of the cover offered by scrubby growth at the edge of a small woods—sage and bindweed and some kind of sedge, their scents mingling with that of the tiny white flowers on a struggling toyon bush.

Also with the scent of the hamburgers the gang members had grilled earlier, and that of the other lupi hiding, as he was, in the weeds and grasses around a dilapidated house just outside the city. One of them lay very near Rule—one who must be finding this wait extremely difficult. Cullen often said he was not a patient man.