Eileen Wilks - Night Season

"Oh, yes." The bond they'd formed was very new, the intimacy of it sometimes unsettling, and some concepts didn't travel well between minds so different. But Kai knew Dell understood that her long hunger was nearly over.

When Dell's hunger ended, so would Kai's.

They'd reached the rendezvous. Kai set one of the sleeping bags down so she could rub behind one tall, tufted ear as the big cat stropped herself against Kai's legs. Dell had learned that her human was easily unbalanced, so her affection was tempered by care. "She's eager."

Dell would be much better off where they were going, and that gave Kai a happiness to hang on to. If the magic here was somewhat thin for Nathan, it was starvingly low for the chameleon-cat—which was why Kai had begun to tire. The familiar bond ran both ways, and the power the queen had generously offered Dell to sustain her while Kai and Nathan readied themselves for the trip was gone now.

"Best pick up the sleeping bag. It's time, Kai."

"What?" But she stooped to retrieve it. "I don't see… is she here?"

"She doesn't have to be here. It isn't a true gate. I explained that."

He had, but that wasn't to say she understood. Somehow Nathan's queen was reaching him though she wasn't even in this world, broadening his innate ability to cross between realms so he could take with him things that were his—clothes, gear, and Kai. Who would bring Dell with her.

"Focus on your bond with Dell." His voice was low. He stared ahead at something she couldn't see.

She took a breath and did her best to slip into the state she'd avoided all her life, the condition she called fugue. At first it wouldn't come. She allowed the frustration to wash through her, focusing only on Dell, the clear, simple colors of her familiar's thoughts.

Gradually her breathing eased and her mind slid into that other place, where the colors and shapes of thoughts drew her, their shifting endlessly fascinating… a place where she could lose herself. Had lost herself as a child. A place where her own thoughts could reach out and touch the minds of others, change them. Where the compulsion to do just that could be overwhelming.

But Dell's thoughts were clear and true, triggering no urge to meddle. Kai's heartbeat steadied and she found the bond between them, a smooth, pale tube just tinged with yellow, and she smiled it stronger. Brighter.

She felt Nathan's hand on her shoulder. "Now," he said, his voice the only thing in the world besides the colors, "we walk forward."

So she did, trusting him, smiling at how beautiful his colors were, and how intricate, the shapes flowing into a new pattern, then another, each elegant and enticing, fascinating…

A sharp pain in her cheek made her gasp—and brought her back, dizzy, into the world of the senses. A world different from the one she'd been in only moments ago. Snow whirled through the night air, damp and cold on her skin. She looked around, but could see neither buildings nor road, only the endless, muted white of the storm.

But Dell was warm beside her, gloriously excited and urgent. Nathan stood before her, worry tilting his brows down. "I'm back," she said, "though we really need to find something other than pain to get my attention." The hot sting in her cheek suggested he'd had to slap her out of fugue this time.

"We need jackets. Gloves for you." He unzipped the duffel.

She hugged the sleeping bags close. "I was expecting something more inhabited."

"There's a village or holding east of here."

Relief swept through her. "You know where we are, then."

He found a smile, this one apologetic. "No. I smell wood smoke. Here."

They shuffled burdens between them so both could don their jackets. Hers was quilted, hooded, good to subzero temps if she added the lining. She didn't. It was cold, but not much below freezing. She'd warm quickly once they started moving. "Dell's hungry. Can I—?"

"Yes. Don't worry." The last was addressed to the cat, not Kai. "I'll watch out for her."

In spite of her eagerness to hunt, Dell studied Nathan a moment. Kai could feel the big cat considering whatever communication she'd received from him—not the spoken words Kai had heard, but something. Then she vanished into the snow-blurred night.

Kai tugged on her gloves. Dell considered her too weak to survive on her own. In this place, she was likely right. "Can you tell if the others have come through yet? The ones we're to follow?"

Nathan tilted his head as if listening, though she had no idea what sense he was actually consulting. "We have two or three weeks, I think. I stepped somewhat backward as we came through."

"Backward?"

"Time isn't entirely congruent between Earth and Edge. There's enough flex to allow me some choice. Forward would be tricky, but it wasn't so hard to slide it back a bit."

She stared. "You can adjust time?"

"No." He was patient. "But when two realms aren't time-congruent, time becomes one of the choices I make when crossing."

He thought that made sense. Ah, well. She had a great deal to learn about him still. They'd been friends for two years, but lovers for only six days.

And now they were supposed to rescue this world—or play a part in its rescue, anyway. If she could make her Gift work. "We'd better get moving."

It looked like a digital thermometer. There were two little windows in the plastic casing, one showing a deep purple the other, a pale teal. She tilted it, squinting. Maybe the light was fooling her.

Still purple. Not the pretty teal she'd been praying for. No matter how hard she stared or squinted, or what angle she used, it stayed purple.

The knock at her door made Cynna jump. She dropped the tester, scowled at it, and left it lying on the floor. She slammed the bathroom door as she hurried to the other door—which was only steps away. Hotel rooms always put the bathroom right off the entry door.

"Coming, dammit. I'm coming."

No, she wasn't. Not now, but she had last month. Three times. Which was why the color of doom had showed up on the godforsaken tester.

Cynna checked the spy hole, unlocked the door, and swung it open. "Hey," she said with frantic cheer. "I'm ready. Let's go."

The woman at the door was a full head shorter than Cynna. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of a long sweep of coat as black and perfect as the shorter sweep of her hair, and a small frown was tucked between the arch of her brows. Her eyes were dark and steady. "You need a coat," Lily Yu said, not moving. "It's February, so you need a heavy coat. And maybe your wallet? If we're going to shop—"

"Oh, yeah. Right. I'll get them." Cynna started to shut the door in her friend's face, but stopped herself in time. "Come in, but don't go in the bathroom."

That sent the eyebrows up. Cynna ignored that, grabbed her denim tote and her jacket from the pile of clothes on the bed. "I sure do need to wash clothes," she said brightly. "Let's go. Oh, one more thing. No one is to say the p-word this afternoon, or allude to it in any way."

Lily nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. No allusions to the p-word."

Wow. That was easy. Should have tried that a month ago and spared herself any number of gentle, tactful, or blunt interventions. Lily had been so sure Cynna wasn't facing reality.

Turned out Lily was right. The bitch. "So where are we going?" Cynna asked as they headed down the hotel hallway to the side exit.

"I thought we'd give the Fashion Center a try."

"Sure. Uh… do they have those snooty clerks who look at you like you're about to boost a pair of pantyhose?"

Lily gave her a look. "How long have you lived in D.C.?"

"Seven years. Why?"

"The Fashion Center is a mall. They've got all kinds of clothing stores—Macy's, Talbot's, The Gap, Kenneth Cole—"