Hard as a Rock, page 26
part #3 of Gargoyles Series
For the first time, Wynn actually felt a touch of gratitude for the darkness. Dressed, as they all were, in black clothing, the utter lack of moonlight made her feel much less exposed as she and Griffin made the mad dash from concealing tree to concealing tree. After a brief gesture reminding them to remain silent, the Guardian led the way stealthily through the trees toward the cliff stairs.
A landing enclosed by a wooden railing and flanked by an unlit lamppost marked the top of the long staircase. Knox stopped them just as the landmark came into view through the trees and once again signaled them to wait. Wynn gritted her teeth and wished she could pull out her smartphone to check the time. She wasn’t nearly stupid enough to do so, because she knew the illuminated face would immediately give away their position to any enemies left behind on sentry duty, if the cult’s paranoia ran that way, but the urge niggled at her like an itch she couldn’t scratch. Knox had said he would track the time during their operation, but since there wasn’t a watchband in the world big enough to circle the monstrous wrist of his Guardian form, she had no idea how he was doing it. It was the uncertainty that drove her crazy.
The wait dragged on interminably, but eventually the time must have crawled by to eleven thirty. Just before Wynn forced herself to shift again to stave off her right foot falling asleep, Knox rose and waved them forward. He led the way toward the stairs, moving slowly and cautiously, scanning the area around them for possible nocturnis guards. Wynn, of course, saw no one, but she knew a Guardian saw more keenly in the dark than a cat, so if they were out there, he would spot them. Unimpeded, they reached the lamppost in minutes.
The night was so dark that it wasn’t until the couple were nearly upon them that Wynn saw Kees and Ella approach from the opposite direction. The Guardians nodded briskly to each other, but Wynn didn’t dare speak, not now that everything suddenly became very real and her body began to tremble with the mixture of cold and adrenaline. She felt a rush of gratitude, though, when Ella stepped up beside her and squeezed her hand. Instinctively, Wynn returned the gesture and reached out her other hand to repeat it with her uncle. Griffin’s smile flashed briefly in the darkness, a little weak and unsteady, but game nonetheless.
With another simple hand gesture reminding the Wardens to stay close, the party began to descend the long, winding staircase along the cliff’s face. The Guardians walked in front, Knox leading with Kees following close behind. Griffin went next, because he had the most Warden experience and therefore the best chance of detecting any magical traps or wards they might encounter on the way to the cave. Wynn followed behind with Ella in the rear, her magical experience affording her the privilege of guarding their backs.
Wynn stepped as lightly as possible, but her footsteps still sounded like drumbeats in her own ears. She could hear the soft falls of Griffin’s and Ella’s as well, but she marveled at the absolute silence with which the Guardians glided forward. They were both so huge, they should have made the staircase shake like a pair of elephants, but they passed across the surface like shadows, insubstantial and undetectable.
It didn’t take long for Wynn to realize that the key to making it down to the cave was not to look over the railing. In the moonless night, the starlight that reflected off the surface of the lake looked to be a long, long way down. A bout of vertigo appeared nowhere on her to-do list for the night, so she kept her eyes on her feet and took one step at a time.
The stairs turned twice before Knox reached a third landing and drew the party to a halt. Somehow, Wynn had expected that the landing would simply widen at the mouth of the cave, allowing them to step from the wooden platform directly onto the floor of the cavern. Oh, if only. She nearly lost her mind when she saw what really awaited her.
Wynn didn’t consider herself to have a particular fear of heights. She could look out windows in tall buildings without a problem, ladders bothered her not at all, and she’d spent a good portion of her childhood climbing the tallest trees she could find, even falling out of a few. Still, when she saw the narrow ledge carved into the face of the cliff and winding at least twenty-five feet from the stairway landing to the cave entrance she nearly turned around, tucked her ball under her arm, and went home to play by herself.
Dear, sweet Lord of the Wild Hunt, were they supposed to sidle along that trail like mountain goats to get into the cavern? Sure, that might be all well and good to the members of their merry band who had wings and wouldn’t die if they plummeted off the edge, but Wynn felt distinctly human, especially human, in that moment, and she did not want to take that stroll. Nuh-uh. No way. No how.
In the darkness, Knox’s eyes blazed at her as if he could read her thoughts. Beckoning her toward him, he bent his head until his lips brushed her ear before he whispered, “Do not be afraid, little witch. When you cross I will be right behind you. I will catch you if you fall. I would never let you touch the water, let alone the rocks below. Do you trust me?”
Wynn swallowed a shuddering laugh and tilted back her head. She was crazy, felt thoroughly, certifiably insane, even as she looked into his flaming gaze and gave him the only answer she could. “With my life.” Then she shook her head and added, “Apparently,” mostly under her breath.
Knox nodded and motioned for the others to move into formation. As planned, a Guardian went first, which meant Kees got the privilege of being the first to step out onto the dark, narrow ledge. He did so without hesitation, crossing the distance in long strides. When he reached the entrance to the cave, he stepped just inside and leaned against the stony surface of the rough walls, his gray skin blending almost perfectly into the background. Talk about natural camouflage. He nearly disappeared from sight, like a chameleon.
After seeing someone of Kees’s size clear the path in minutes, Wynn told herself she had nothing to worry about. After all, the Guardian was easily twice her size and took up proportionally more room on the path, so if it was wide enough for him, it was probably wide enough for her. But she still held her breath the entire way across.
True to his word, Knox walked close behind her, and somewhere in the back of her mind she was vaguely aware of Griffin and Ella following along. Still, her mind raced with dire possibilities until she reached the wide opening of the cavern and could slump against the wall beside Kees. He gave her a nod of approval while Knox and Griffin also stepped off the path, and Knox reached out to pull his mate close beside him.
Once they were all assembled at the mouth of the cave, the Guardians looked to Griffin with expectant expressions. Her uncle frowned in concentration as he moved slowly around the small area, scanning walls, floor, and ceiling for signs of magical defenses. Finally, he finished and faced the others. Shaking his head, he turned his hands palms-up and gave an exaggerated shrug. They all caught his meaning. He had found nothing here at the cave’s entrance, but he could make no guarantees about the tunnel that led deeper into the cliff face. They would simply have to take their chances.
Their small group reordered itself in their agreed-upon formation and followed the faint glow of firelight shining around the curve of the tunnel. Wynn’s heartbeat finally managed to drown out the sound of her own footsteps, but she didn’t count that as much of an improvement. The solidity of the tunnel’s stone floor felt more secure than the wooden steps that had vibrated with every step downward, but something else seemed to vibrate in the air around them. It felt like power and it tasted like magic and it stank of the Darkness.
Ella was following closely behind, so Wynn noticed when the other woman’s shoulders stiffened and looked around to see what had caught her attention. Then she heard it, the distant hum of chanting voices.
Sure, chanting cultists might sound like something out of a cheesy horror movie, but only because the general public had no concept of how to raise and concentrate power. The image that made it into B-movies actually contained a kernel of truth. Magical energy operated on similar principles to light energy or sound energy. It traveled on waves and was composed of molecules all vibrating at a tuned frequency. Therefore, tuned sounds like rhythmic chanting could help to align the particles or even influence the particles to vibrate at a slower or faster frequency, thus lowering or raising the levels of power. This chant raised not just the levels of energy, but all the hairs on the back of Wynn’s neck.
She stilled, just a split second before Knox’s fist shot up, signaling them all to freeze. She watched him inch forward along a curve in the tunnel and knew he must have spotted the end of it somewhere up ahead of them. He would try to get a look into the area up ahead without being seen, and then it would be showtime.
A minute to center herself might not be a bad idea at that moment, Wynn decided, and she drew a deep breath in preparation for a moment of down-and-dirty meditation. A quick few seconds spent focusing inward to be sure her energy lay ready and aligned for the confrontation to come might make the difference in a sticky situation, so she needed to work fast. Now or never, right?
Apparently, the universe voted never, because within a hairbreadth of time chaos erupted, flowing over her like lava from a volcano. One minute she stood frozen in the dim cavern tunnel waiting for Knox to scout ahead and the next she heard the faint chanting shatter into many discordant voices while the battle cry of an enraged Guardian shook the very earth and stone around them.
Kees launched himself forward before Knox’s roar even passed the first note. He was weaponless, but his talons flashed sharper than ten honed stilettos as he flew the length of the tunnel and into the mysterious space beyond. Ella didn’t even spare Wynn and Griffin a glance. She merely shouted, “Go! Go! Go!” as she took off after her mate.
Heart in her throat, Wynn followed with her uncle close at her heels.
So much for the element of surprise.
The thought skittered through her brain as she took the curve of the tunnel at a dead run and found herself disgorged into a large, open cavern nearly eighty feet long and more than a hundred feet wide. Roughly oval in shape, the space appeared to be a natural formation, with rough walls and ceiling carved by time. The floor felt like packed sand over dirt, likely the result of the nearby lake flooding and receding through the centuries. Torches in metal sconces dotted the walls near the center of the open space, lighting what had just become a field of battle.
Ahead of her, she could see Kees closing in on Ronald Coleman while the man cast ball after ball of rusty-red magic at the Guardian’s impervious hide. He clutched the Eye firmly in his off hand, attempting to protect it from the monster that stalked him. Created from magic, Guardians could neither wield the energy nor generally be harmed by it. Coleman was wasting his time and his power, but Wynn had no intention of telling him so. In fact, she hoped Kees made him eat one of his own dark fireballs.
At least six other figures in dark, hooded robes occupied the large chamber, and Ella had already engaged with them. Wynn could see a giant shimmering ball of energy surrounding one, clearly trapping him in place. Another time she might have laughed at the sight, because he looked like a little medieval monk in a plastic hamster ball. Now, though, amusement had been trumped by fear.
Her gaze scanned the room for a glimpse of Knox. At first, she couldn’t see him because of the shadows that pooled wherever the torchlight didn’t reach, and she felt a wave of panic. Then a movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned toward an area of the cavern where the floor sloped upward, forming a sort of natural platform, like a dais against the far wall. On the dais sat a stone table, and the eerie similarities to another stone table on an island in the St. Lawrence River made her shudder. Then Wynn blinked and shuddered again as her brain finally made sense of what her eyes were seeing.
In front of the table, a little off to the side, Knox loomed, his huge hands clenched into fists, his wings rustling in impotent rage behind him. He faced the table, so Wynn couldn’t see his expression, but she could see exactly what he was looking at.
Sitting on top of the table, lower legs kicking like a child’s, a lone figure perched. Dressed in dark clothing but unencumbered by a bulky robe, her brother Bran looked over at Wynn and smiled.
Chapter Nineteen
Wynn felt like the bullets that had missed her the week before, deflected by Knox’s thick hide, had suddenly struck their mark. She staggered backward, one hand flying up to cover her mouth as reality cracked and splintered around her. Her brother. Here. In the den of the Order. Free and unfettered and looking completely healthy, as well as unfazed by the battle raging around him.
What in the name of the Goddess was going on?
As she stared, unable to move, she saw the smile on her brother’s face widen, and when his lips moved, she heard his voice as if he stood right beside her. “I know you,” he said. “Sister. Wynn. Witch. Sister-witch. How very, very interesting. Come here, sister, and greet a brother properly.”
And then her heart shattered, because whatever wore her brother’s face was not her brother, merely an occupant in Bran Powe’s body. She could feel it in the way her soul recoiled even while her brain shouted in relief and joy and urged her to run to him, embrace your brother! He is alive and well! But inside she recognized the black taint of evil, the writhing mass of powerful dark magic, and her soul sobbed, telling her, Yes, run! Run away! Flee from the demon before he devours you!
Broken and helpless, Wynn fell to her knees and nearly choked on her own sob.
It all happened in an instant, the sight, the recognition, the repulsion, but beside her, she became aware of her uncle crying out, his voice hoarse and thick with joy and relief.
“Bran!” Griffin shouted. “Wynnie, it’s Bran! Here’s here and he’s alive. Come on!”
He grabbed her arm and tried to lift her, tried to drag her forward, but Wynn fought him and sobbed harder. “Uncle Griff, no! No, it’s not Bran. That’s not Bran. That’s Uhlthor. Griff, I know it looks like him, but it’s not. That’s the demon.”
Griffin jerked in surprise. His gaze flew to his nephew’s familiar shape, then back to Wynn. He frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous, Wynn. That’s your brother. Look, I’ll show you.”
She grabbed at him, tried to stop him, but her uncle shrugged her off and began to walk toward the stone table. “Bran,” he called out. “By the Light, boy, we’ve missed you. Where have you been all these months?”
Wynn watched while her uncle strode forward, and she saw the moment when the thing in Bran’s body first noticed the old Warden. It turned its head and tilted it slightly, gazing at the approaching human with an unblinking, reptilian stare.
“You are familiar,” the demon mused, “but you do not interest me. Your power is useless. Go away.” It flicked Bran’s fingers, and their uncle went flying backward through the air, slamming against the cavern wall to crumple in a heap on the ground.
Wynn screamed. She couldn’t stop herself. The sound welled up from somewhere deep inside her and clawed its way from her throat to spill out into the night. She stared at Griffin’s unmoving form trying to detect if he still breathed. Then another cry echoed around her, but this one came from Ella.
“Wynn, behind you!”
Her movement restricted by her kneeling position, all Wynn could do was twist to the side and throw her weight backward, hopefully out of the path of whatever danger her friend tried to warn her about. She mostly made it. Whatever spell the nocturnis had tried to cast on her hit the sand beside her instead. Another bolt of energy, this one a pale, crystalline blue, flew overhead, and the nocturnis who had attacked Wynn fell to the ground.
Ella raced up beside her and tried to haul Wynn to her feet. “What is wrong with you?” the other woman shouted at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her hard. “What the hell, Wynn? Snap out of it. We need your help.”
“My brother,” she managed to choke out. “It’s got Bran, El. It’s got him.”
The Warden cursed and let go, one hand darting right back to steady Wynn when the witch swayed on her feet. “Okay, that sucks, but if you have even the slightest hope that we can save him, you need to pull yourself together and fight! Come on!”
Wynn stumbled, then caught herself as her friend dragged her away from the bodies of her uncle and the fallen nocturnis and back into the fray. She looked around for the first time since setting eyes on her brother and tried to make sense of what was going on.
Two more nocturnis lay unmoving on the sandy cavern floor, while the hamster ball cultist remained imprisoned with a companion now floating in a second energy ball beside him. The final robed member of the cell had joined Coleman in his battle against Kees, fighting back-to-back with the businessman to prevent Kees from getting a clear opening of attack.
On the other side of the chamber, not-Bran continued to watch the action with an expression of polite interest and cold snake’s eyes. Knox had not moved, standing like a statue before the demonic creature.
“Why isn’t Knox moving?” Ella demanded as soon as she sent a spell winging toward the two remaining cultists. “He’s supposed to take care of the demon.”
“I don’t know,” Wynn answered, distracted by the sight of the item in Coleman’s left hand. The Eye of Uhlthor, which had appeared cold and black when they had entered the cavern, now appeared equally black, but it had begun to radiate a noxious glow. Or what would have been a glow had it not consisted entirely of dark energy. “But I think we need to focus on that.”
Coleman appeared to have stopped throwing useless spells at Kees and now concentrated on maintaining an energy shield around himself. He and his partner began to back toward the table where their demonic master waited, looking handsome and harmless in Bran’s familiar skin.
