Shadow Rising (The Shadow World Book 7) Page 2

  She watched with her Sight, mad with curiosity to see him work. He raised the Web and spun it around so the air in front of him was aligned with the threads. Neali’s eyes widened; she’d never seen anyone bring up the vision so quickly or move through it with so little exertion.

  He then took hold of two strands of the Web and gently but firmly pulled them apart. In front of him, the air began to shimmer.

  Neali was speechless. No, he didn’t need any other Weavers. Compared to the amount of power he was using, apparently without effort, the entire corps of Weavers in Avilon – before tonight, anyway—could have pooled their strength and barely touched him.

  He was drawing energy from Deven, and because of the latter’s Elven blood…and whatever their connection was…they worked together like a single being in two bodies.

  The portal grew large enough for three or four people to walk through abreast in less than five minutes. As it opened, she smelled the same air and earth as when they had arrived, felt the wet cold of wherever it was they were going. After a moment the portal cleared and she could see it, as well: a vast garden draped opulently in moonlight, with the heads of night-blooming flowers nodding somnolently in the breeze.

  And there, waiting for them on the far side, was a woman in black, a tumble of curly red hair falling over her shoulders, authority and calm written in every inch of her countenance. Another glowing stone, this one red, shone from her neck; she, too, bore a sword. Framed by the portal and seeming to emerge from the night in a cloak of shadow and mist, she stood with the queenly strength of Theia Herself, wit and intelligence in her green eyes, moonlight in her hair.

  Everyone was staring at the woman, but it was obvious to anyone with any degree of Sight that she was no threat, and something about the way she anchored the world they were walking into was reassuring even as it was frightening. In the end it didn’t matter anyway—they had nowhere else to go but toward her.

  Kalea and Thestel began to usher the Elves through. The first pair held each other’s hands tightly and steeled themselves. Neali watched with her heart in her throat as they stepped through the portal.

  Once they were through, after two seconds or so, they appeared again on the far side of the portal. The woman there smiled at them and spoke quietly, gesturing down the path for them to keep walking.

  Satisfied, Kalea nudged the next pair in. Before long the Elves were passing through in a steady stream.

  Neali took a deep breath as her turn came up. She glanced over at Kalea, who was still holding Inaliel. The baby was laughing, clapping her hands and then grabbing at the air, eager to touch the magic she could no doubt See before her.

  The last thing Neali saw before Avilon disappeared was Deven, who still stood behind Nico. She saw him look over at the child, and saw him smile.

  *****

  As large as the Haven was, it wasn’t quite big enough to house a horde of Elves without a bit of rearranging. Most of the Elite already shared their quarters, but the upper tier had private rooms; they were temporarily doubled up to free up some space, hopefully just for a night or two. With cots and sofas four adults could easily sleep in a single suite in the main house, and the children would hardly take up any space at all. Once they got a final count and figured out who belonged to what family group, they could work on better arrangements.

  Miranda worried, waiting for the portal to open, that the refugees were going to panic when she was the first thing they saw, but there wasn’t much choice. Only the Tetrad spoke fluent Elvish, and Nico and Dev would be last through the gate, possibly even later if they needed to stay and search for survivors. Stella had a decent command of basic conversation, so she was inside the house with David helping the Elite direct traffic.

  The Queen also fretted about her own linguistic acumen—she’d only had the language in her head for a day. Nico had made sure to transfer it to her before he and Deven left; she was the only one who didn’t already speak it. She had practiced a little, but it was so weird to hear a whole different language come out of her own mouth that she stumbled over the words. As long as she took it slowly and enunciated carefully it should be okay, but…

  She stood in the garden where the boys had left, trying to stay grounded. She had no idea what to expect from all this—everything had happened so fast. Thank God she was married to the king of logistics; in the last few hours David had gotten the whole thing organized as if putting together a trip to the movies.

  Miranda felt the air start to change. Here we go.

  To their credit the first Elves through the gate didn’t freak out when they saw her, or at least they didn’t freak any farther out than they’d already freaked. They both drew up short, gripping each other’s hands.

  Miranda stepped forward and bowed. “Welcome,” she said. “Please go to the door that stands open, where the woman in black is waiting. She will send you to the next place.”

  They looked at each other, nodded at her, and followed her extended right arm toward the Haven. The paved path led straight to the side door where one of the Elite lieutenants was waiting to pass them to the next Elite, and so on, until they reached the first set of empty rooms—and on to the infirmary if necessary where Mo was ready. Up until they got where they were going the Elves didn’t really need to talk, and if something came up the Elite were ready to call for a translation.

  She had intended to look as imposing as she could, not to scare them, but to reassure them; they needed to feel safe, and even if they knew nothing about the Shadow World they would know they were looking at someone more powerful than the humans who had attacked them. But once they started arriving, filthy and bruised and bloody, some with infants in their arms or children passed out from exhaustion over their shoulders, her resolve cracked, and she extended her empathy to let them know everything would be all right. They were already remarkably calm but she saw a few visibly relax once she’d touched them with her gift, and several of the children stopped crying.

  Meanwhile she tried not to stare. It was damn near impossible. She’d never seen anything like it—even injured and in shock the Elves’ unbelievable grace was breathtaking. She could only imagine how beautiful they all were on a normal day.

  “How is it going, beloved?”

  Miranda smiled and surreptitiously tapped on her com. “I feel like I’m in a really weird Pantene commercial.”

  She heard David laugh. “Do you need me out there?”

  “I don’t think so. So far they’re in a bad enough state that they just do what I say without paying much attention to me.”

  “Good. I think the two of us together might give them all coronaries.”

  “How are things in there?”

  “Well, first they come around the corner staring at everything. Then they see me and turn white, or whiter. Then they take a second to decide if they’re going to bolt. Once I start talking they decide I’m either not the devil or the devil has clean sheets and is their new favorite person. Overall they’re just relieved. Stella is apparently giving lessons on human-world plumbing.”

  “What, they don’t have flush toilets in Avilon?”

  “Oh, they do, they just work differently. And they don’t really have showers, just hot springs and strategically managed waterfalls. We’re going to be out a fortune in hair dryers.”

  Miranda held back a giggle. “Okay, there’s another group coming. Back to work.”

  It took nearly half an hour to get them all through. Miranda hoped Nico was okay—she didn’t feel him flagging, but Deven was drawing a huge amount of power from her and David to funnel into his Consort.

  This was the first time they’d really tested the bond this way; in the weeks since they’d gotten Nico back they’d been working with it systematically, learning how energy flowed among them, and moreover how they connected back to the rest of the Circle. They knew the others could feed them—they’d seen that the night Miranda had her near-disastrous second stab at Weaving. But it was time t
hey got serious about the Circle’s dynamics, now that Avi had joined them, and David was being as scientific as he really could be considering they were talking about magic.

  It was only three weeks to the Winter Solstice, when they’d attempt the summoning ritual in the Codex. Luckily there didn’t seem to be much prep involved aside from painting some symbols on the floor—they needed time to figure out what they were going to do with their new houseguests.

  Finally, the last couple of Elves came through—an imposing woman in a blue cloak and a man who looked like he might faint dead away at the sight of Miranda. The woman was carrying an infant.

  The woman looked familiar. It took a second to place her, but once she did it was obvious. This had to be Nico and Kai’s mother. Miranda didn’t remember Nico mentioning a little sister, but the baby might not be hers. It looked like everyone had grabbed any kid nearby regardless of kinship and run like hell.

  Miranda bowed to her and asked, “Are you Nicolanai’s mother Kalea?”

  She froze, caught off guard. “I am,” she said cautiously. “And you are?”

  “I am Miranda Grey-Solomon, Queen of this Haven. You are most welcome. Is this your daughter?”

  “No. She is the child of a friend, and apparently is kin to my son’s Ghost.”

  The baby chose that moment to open her eyes, and Miranda’s mouth fell open.

  Kalea half-smiled at her astonishment. Before she could say anything, however, the portal behind her began to collapse. Miranda’s veins ran cold with fear for a moment—had something gone wrong? She didn’t feel anything wrong. But would she this far away?

  Kalea noticed her distress. “They stayed behind to have a quick look around the Sanctuary for survivors but said they would be back well before sunup.”

  “Yes, of course. Um…if you’ll follow this path to the open door, my people will guide you the rest of the way to a room and medical attention if you need it.”

  Kalea bowed slightly to avoid jostling the baby, and she and her companion, who had stood there staring at Miranda the whole time, headed toward the Haven.

  She wasn’t sure if she should follow or wait here for the boys. She was too anxious for them, however, to leave, so she sat down on the stone bench a few yards away and let David know what was going on.

  “All through,” she said. “The portal’s closed but the boys are having a last sweep of the place before they come back. And you’ll never guess who I just met.”

  “Someone from Keebler?”

  “No, even better: Nico’s mom…and Deven’s sister.”

  A pause. “Sister?”

  “Half-sister, anyway. She’s maybe six months old, so unless they somehow turned Dev’s dad into an Elf she has a different father. I can’t wait to hear what he thinks.”

  “Does that mean they found his mother?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll ask when they get back. Do you need me? If not I’m going to wait here.”

  “Not at present. We’ve got almost everyone settled. If something changes I’ll call.”

  Miranda pulled her coat more tightly around her. It was a cold night; just in the last hour frost had begun to form on the plants.

  She took out her phone and looked over the network and her email, trying to fill the time without sitting there fretting. This had to be a nightmare for Nico…after what had happened with Lesela, and Kai’s hijacking by that bastard Prophet, seeing his home destroyed could very well destroy him. But every time she thought he was broken beyond the point of no return, he somehow made it…and this time was very different. This time he had Deven.

  Actually they all had Deven. She smiled.

  The Pair had worked a miracle on each other. No, everything wasn’t magically all better, but the balance they’d found had done wonders for them both. She knew they both had nightmares, and Nico was dreading the coming New Moon in three days, but he had shed so much fear in the last few weeks, just as Deven had shed years and years of despair. It was amazing to watch. So was their partnership; she’d never seen two people share energy so seamlessly.

  It was strange, but ever since the Tetrad had formed Miranda had been…happy. She wasn’t delirious with joy or anything, especially given everything looming over their heads, but something about this crazy new reality of theirs was giving her a sense of contentment she’d never had before. Being with David had always felt like exactly where she belonged, and it had been wonderful even when it was awful, but now it felt like some circuit she hadn’t known existed in her had been completed. She was sure she’d lost her mind until she took a chance and mentioned it to David, who had, to her surprise, said he felt the same way.

  They’d been a magnificent Pair, and still were. But now they were all so much more than that. Wherever all this went, whatever their eventual fates, she was thankful to have had this for however long it lasted.

  Miranda frowned. Hopefully she hadn’t just damned her luck.

  *****

  “My home,” Nico said softly.

  Deven turned back to him, the loss in the Elf’s voice almost unbearable. “You can stay back near the portal,” he told the Consort gently. “We can handle this.”

  Nico shook his head. “No, I need to see. And I want to know if my house or Mother’s is still standing.”

  Nodding, Deven started along the path again, glancing over at their companion, a Healer named Ethelin. She had volunteered to stay behind and help them search the ruins for anyone still alive. They’d needed at least one person with them who would calm anyone they found—God only knew what the Elves thought of Deven, and the difference in Nico from his life here was so profound it would upset them. This way they could have Ethelin do the talking.

  It became readily apparent, however, that there weren’t going to be many survivors…if any. Deven wasn’t surprised. The only hope the Elves had had was to reach the trees and hide.

  Part of the Sanctuary was still burning, and the smoke choked them even before they’d reached the first orderly row of houses. The dwellings on the outer rim were the least damaged; if nothing further befell Avilon in the next few days their owners would be able to salvage many of their belongings. The closer they drew to the center, however, the worse it got.

  When they came to the first bodies Deven had to keep Nico from collapsing. Ethelin gave a wail of anguish and turned away, unable to take another step.

  According to Kalea most of the dead had been burned. But some had been left where they’d fallen, like broken dolls discarded by a distracted child. Deven moved closer and bent, closing violet eyes fixed on the night sky.

  They’d all been killed the same way: Bullets. Morningstar had come here and opened fire the way they couldn’t on vampires. Elves could survive a lot, and one gunshot even to a vital area probably wouldn’t kill them before they could get help, but a burst from a machine gun would, especially if there were no Healers near. Some had been so disfigured by blood and bullets they were barely recognizable as Elves.

  “Don’t come closer,” Deven said sharply when he heard Ethelin creeping up next to him. “You don’t need to see this. It won’t do any good.”

  “He’s right,” Nico agreed, voice hoarse, no doubt from mourning cries he couldn’t let out. “You don’t want to remember them like this. Just keep walking. Look for the living.”

  It went on like that until they’d reached the town center, where almost nothing remained but giant piles of ash and scorched wood…and bodies. Most of the dead who had burned here were already dust, but here and there half a corpse protruded from a pile of blackened timbers, or part of an arm remained in a burnt-out pyre. The stench was incredible, and Deven hoped against hope that at least Ethelin wouldn’t realize what she was smelling; according to Nico Elves normally didn’t eat meat so it was unlikely most of them had any frame of reference for burning flesh.

  “Mother’s house was over here,” Nico murmured, deviating from the main path.

  Deven waited behind for a moment, brea
thing deeply, fighting down violent tremors of his own.

  Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

  Everywhere he looked were fallen buildings and scorched earth. Roofs had fallen on people, trapping them…trapped in the dark, bleeding out, and so scared…no comfort in those last moments, only torment…

  You can’t fall apart now—he needs you. Lock it away until later.

  “Look,” Nico called, voice tight with pain.

  Dev joined him in front of a pile of burnt out wood and stone, where Nico was moving quietly among the debris, looking for anything salvageable. His eyes were wet when they met Deven’s.

  “I was born right here where I’m standing,” Nico said. “Only a few minutes after Kai. We grew up in this house.”

  Deven reached out to him, lay a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nico.”

  The Elf only nodded, giving the ruin one last look before he walked away, expression bleak and bewildered.

  They picked through the ruins for several hours, until it grew close enough to sunrise that the air had taken on that feeling of wrongness that only vampires ever experienced. By then they’d made it to the far side, where Nico’s house had been; he’d lived on the fringes of his own world, solitary and quiet, until he followed the call of prophecy and compassion and his life had cantered merrily into hell.

  “There,” Nico said. “It’s still there.”

  It was a little house, just big enough for one, unassuming yet lovely. All the structures in Avilon had been painted and carved intricately with vines and flowers and forest creatures, or scenes from their folklore and mythology. Nico’s house was no exception, but unlike most of the others his still stood and was mostly unharmed. The front door had been ripped from its hinges, probably so the humans could search inside for its occupants; they had dragged every Elf who didn’t make it to the trees into the town center, chosen a couple dozen to take back to Earth, and murdered all those who didn’t make the cut.