Black Heart (3 page)

I opened my eyes. It was hundreds of miles away, maybe thousands, and past a series of mountains that were probably loaded with peril. How would I ever get there? The flight across the ocean could kill me. On a good day I didn’t have that kind of stamina.

Well, I had to get there. I would just have to figure out a way. Casting the tracking spell had nearly exhausted me again, but I thought I should try to make some progress in the right direction. I knew there was no food or water for me here, so I decided to fly toward the nearest lake. I just hoped that they weren’t all under the same enchantment as the stream.

I rose above the trees and headed off in the direction where I’d detected a largish body of water. More time had passed than I’d realized. The moon was already setting, so low in the sky that it appeared to brush the tops of the trees.

In the distance, off to my left, something huge spread its wings and soared into the sky. The dragon. Or rather,
a
dragon. There was no guarantee that there was only one dragon in this forest.

The gigantic animal flew away from me. It seemed not to have noticed me at all. Thank goodness. Maybe my luck was changing. I’d managed to avoid a dragon twice.

I flew low, just above the tree line. I was keeping a sharp eye below, looking for the lake or a good place to forage for food. I didn’t see any movement or any evidence of creatures beyond the dragon.

Soon enough I realized I was too tired to keep going. I lowered into a tree, found a comfy-looking branch, and was asleep before I knew it.

My dreams were tangled things, images of Gabriel and Nathaniel twisted into one body; the dark, lurking menace of the Retrievers; the sight of Alerian rising from Lake Michigan; the feeling that I was drowning when I touched his hand.

Then Lucifer was there, and behind him Evangeline. He smiled at me as Evangeline rose up, growing taller and taller, her belly huge with child, her shadow threatening to smother the world. I was just an insect to her, something to be smashed.

I ran and ran, my own belly unwieldy, swollen with my son, but I could never run far enough or fast enough. She was coming for me.

I woke to a searing pain, and the sensation of falling. There was an arrow embedded in my upper right thigh, and whoever had shot it had knocked me out of the tree. I flapped my wings so I wouldn’t smash into the ground. But they got tangled in something.

A net.

I hit the dirt hard and all the breath went out of my lungs. I rolled over, the net twisting in my wings and covering my face. My thigh burned from the arrow embedded in it. I grabbed the net with my hands and tried to set fire to it, but it was made of some kind of flexible metal and all I succeeded in doing was burning myself.

There was a flurry of movement all around me, soft footsteps in the dirt, voices whispering in some musical language. I struggled inside the net, flopping around, unable to make any headway because of my wings.

Tall, slim shadows crowded around me, their faces hooded. They all held bows with nocked arrows pointing straight at me.

I stopped flailing around. I was only tiring myself out anyway. There were six of the figures surrounding me, all of them perfectly still. I knew that if I tried throwing magic, those arrows would fill me up like a pincushion.

I hate feeling trapped, and I hate thinking I have no choices. I had enough obstacles in my way without being kidnapped by some hostile species.

“What do you want?” I asked, trying to sound like I wasn’t as insanely ticked off as I actually was.

The hooded figures did not respond.

“What do you
want
?” I repeated. I confess that I sounded a lot meaner the second time around.

Which may have been why one of the figures stepped forward and hit me in the head with his bow.

Everything faded to black again.

Someone was calling me.

Madeline?

Gabriel? Was that Gabriel’s voice?

Madeline, be careful. They are not what they seem.

“Gabriel!” I shouted, or rather, tried to shout.

My mouth was gagged with a piece of cloth. I was in a low hut that appeared to be constructed of large leaves and long strips of tree branches. The floor was dirt, making the structure little more than a glorified tent.

My hands and ankles were bound with something cold and metallic. I tested the strength of the bonds to see whether I could pull them apart. I am a lot stronger than an ordinary human, but the bracelets around my wrists had no give. In fact, they seemed to get tighter. My skin chafed against the metal, and I ceased before I tore my wrists up.

I lay on my right side facing a wall, so I rolled myself to the other side so that I could see the rest of the room. This was not as easy as it seemed, especially when one’s ab muscles were—
ahem
—underdeveloped. After spending several moments doing an excellent imitation of a fish out of water, I managed to heave myself to my left side.

The view from this side was less than inspiring. The hut was small and round and just one room. In the center were a fire pit and a small opening at the top of the hut to vent smoke.

There were no other objects in the room. Several leaves cut into long strips hung over the doorway in a kind of makeshift curtain. I was alone in the hut, but there were surely guards posted outside. Well, I wasn’t going to lie here and wait for them to come for me.

I still had my wings. I tested them out to see whether my captors had restrained them. Unfortunately, they had. I felt some kind of cord pulling on them. There was no way I’d be able to fly like that. I was trussed up like a Sunday turkey, and I couldn’t move at all unless I flipped over and did an impression of an inchworm.

Crawling on my belly hardly seemed like an efficient method of escape. But if that was the only option available to me, then that was what I would do. Nobody had ever taken me prisoner before, and I was a little insulted.

Plus, I had pretty much been spinning my wheels since I’d landed on this stupid planet. Now that I knew where the portal was, I wanted to get to it.

The first order of business was to get out of these bonds. If I had endless time and energy, I could probably figure out a way to pick the bracelets apart at the molecular level. But I did not have endless time or energy. So I did what I do best.

I set the hut on fire.

My palms faced outward even though they were bound behind my back. So all I had to do was call up some fireballs and make sure my hands pointed at the walls.

Soon the hut was smoking. Very quickly the flames spread, and in a short time the whole hut was ablaze. The heat of the flames got uncomfortably close pretty quickly, and I rolled toward the exit.

A guard rushed in, his face set in lines of surprise. His hood was pushed back against his neck, and I could see the pointed tips of his ears.
Faerie,
I thought.

He looked from the flaming wall to me. I widened my eyes and tried to look helpless. I flopped my feet up and down a couple of times so that he would know what I wanted. He seemed torn for a moment, unsure whether he should douse the fire or save the prisoner.

I heard shouts and cries outside as the fire spread. The guard seemed to make a decision. He knelt beside me, hovered his hands over the bracelets that bound my ankles and said something in that musical language I’d heard earlier. The bracelets clicked apart, and the guard put his hands under my shoulders to help me to my feet.

He wasn’t stupid enough to release my hands or my wings, but that was okay. I could work with this. I stumbled as he dragged me out the door, both of us coughing from the smoke that now billowed out of the hut.

Several faerie were running toward the blazing structure carrying containers of water that sloshed onto the ground. The guard pushed me to one side so that I fell to the ground again. I rolled over and sat up, glaring at him.

He pointed his finger at me and said something in a firm voice that was likely some variation on, “Stay here. Don’t move.” Then he ran in the direction the other faeries had come from, probably to help with the fire dousing.

The faeries trying to put out the flames took very little notice of me except to shoot me a quick glance and get on with their business. That suited me fine.

The hut was isolated from the rest of the village, which appeared to be made up of several structures considerably more elaborate than my prison. The village was set in a large clearing, and my hut was right on the edge of the forest. That also suited me fine.

I scooted backward on my bottom toward the underbrush. Leaves scraped against my back. I waited until I thought everyone was engaged with the blazing hut, then went a little farther, until I was against a tree. I used the tree as a brace so I could rise to my feet. The wound in my right thigh burned like hell as I put weight on it.

Then I turned and ran. My hands were bound painfully against my back, and it made running extremely awkward. But I needed to get away. I would figure out how to break the manacles on my wrists later.

The forest was so thick and dense that the sound of activity in the village was quickly muffled by the foliage. I could hear my own desperate, frantic breathing and my unsubtle crashing through the bush, but no sounds of pursuit.

The scent of smoke drifted along behind me, clinging to my clothes and burrowing inside my nostrils. I don’t think I ran for very long, but after a while I was wiped out. My body was losing energy fast. I just couldn’t keep up with the constant exhaustion and hunger and fear anymore. With every day that passed, my baby got bigger, using more and more of my resources. I was supposed to be eating chips and dip on the couch, not running for my life from creatures that intended me harm—again.

I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going. I was just trying to get as far away from the faerie as possible.

So, naturally, I stumbled into the dragon.

I BARRELED THROUGH A PARTICULARLY ROUGH PATCH
of brush that was full of tangled pricker branches. I fought my way through the thorns tearing at my face and arms, and finally I was out.

And there he was.

The dragon was sleeping, curled up like a cat in a small clearing. His tail was wrapped around the front of his body, which was so much more massive than I’d realized. He was the size of three city buses lined up with three more stacked on top. And that didn’t even count the length of the coiled tail, or the triangular spike that protruded from his back.

His face was long, the bones beneath the scaled skin sharply defined. The closed eyes were huge, easily the size of my head. I already knew it could fly, and breathe fire. I wondered what else it could do.

It was a plain miracle that I hadn’t woken it up by crashing through the bushes like that. Maybe it was confident enough in its superiority as the dominant predator in the forest that it didn’t need to stir just because it heard a little human noise.

I didn’t want to go backward into the thorns, so I’d have to go around the dragon. I crept slowly to the right, toward the base of the tail. I figured if the dragon woke up and attacked, I’d be farther away from its mouth and the inevitable fire, and hopefully more likely to survive.

I kept well away from the creature, leaving several feet between it and me. I just had to get through this clearing. And then get my hands and wings unbound. And then fly thousands of miles to the portal. No problem.

The dragon’s tail shifted, uncoiled and landed in front of me. I turned my head slowly, and met the orange eyes of the dragon.

I went perfectly still.

The dragon bumped me with its tail in the back of my legs, herding me closer to its head and its immense jaws.

My mind was a mass of gibbering terror. Everything had finally caught up with me—the stress, the fear, the physical wear and tear. Even if my hands were free, I don’t know whether I could have summoned a spell. I just didn’t have the wherewithal to hold it together anymore. Given the amount of stress I’d been under, it was only surprising that it hadn’t happened sooner.

I stumbled closer to the dragon, unable to go anywhere else. The animal seemed more curious than anything, but maybe I was just projecting human emotion on a monster in hopes that I wasn’t about to be barbecued. The dragon drew me closer and closer, until my face was level with one eye.

The pupil was slit and long, like a snake’s. It exhaled noisily, smoke rising from its nostrils. I couldn’t think. I didn’t have a plan, or even a half-assed idea. I couldn’t fly away. I couldn’t do anything except breathe, and hope each breath wasn’t my last.

The dragon peered at me for a long time. I stared back, mostly because I didn’t know what else to do. And as I stared I felt like I was sinking, sinking into flame, flame hot enough to kill, but it didn’t hurt me.

The fire was everywhere, dancing on my skin and over my fingers. It consumed me, and it didn’t feel like death. It felt like life.

I came back to myself, to the dragon’s eye, which now seemed speculative. I leaned toward his face, yearning for something I didn’t understand. The dragon turned its muzzle toward me, nudged me with its nose. Its scales were rough and hot against my skin.

“I know you,” I whispered. “I know you.”

The dragon huffed out a smoky breath in response. Then it jerked away from me, bellowing. An arrow was embedded in its neck.

I spun around, trying not to fall over. My coordination had pretty much gone out the window with my hands bound.

The dragon roared, spitting fire at the platoon of armed faerie that surrounded us. I noticed several of them carried long shields in addition to bows and arrows. As my dragon blew flame at them, the faerie held up the shields, which were made of a shiny hammered metal and deflected the fire away.

Other faerie continued to shoot arrows at the dragon, who knocked the intruders away with his tail if they approached too close. Why would the faerie risk death at the mouth of a dragon just to retrieve me? Why was I so important?

“Go,” I said to the dragon. I couldn’t bear it if they killed him because of me. I didn’t know why, but I wouldn’t be able to bear it. “Go. It’s me they want.”

The faerie were grim-faced and obviously determined. More and more of them appeared, streaming silently out of the trees, more than I’d thought possible.

The dragon huffed out a sound that might have been refusal.

“Go!” I shouted, my eyes full of tears. I didn’t want them to hurt him anymore. Whatever they wanted from me didn’t even matter. I was tired of fighting. I was sick of death.

And if I died, I could be with Gabriel. There was a lot of peace in that thought.

“Go,” I said to the dragon for the third time. I turned my back on the faerie closing in around us so I could meet his eyes. The dragon roared, blasted fire at the faerie.

“Please.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, then flapped his wings and lifted off. I followed him with my eyes as he rose above the forest. He paused for a moment, high above me. I heard a low voice in my head, almost a growl.

Be careful, Madeline. They are not what they seem. Do not give in.

Then rough hands were on me, dragging me down, binding my ankles again, lashing my arms to my sides. I jerked my head around, trying to see him, trying to catch one more glimpse of my dragon.

But by the time the faerie had trussed me up again and backed away, the sky was empty. The dragon was gone.

I felt a strange mixture of relief and despair. I was glad the dragon was safe, but now I was alone again—and back where I’d started.

Two faerie came forward carrying a long strip of the same silver netting they’d used to capture me in the first place. I was unceremoniously hoisted into it and the two faerie were joined by two others who held me in it like four posts holding a hammock. All of this was done without speaking, and I wondered who was in charge. The faerie seemed to know instinctively what their job was, moving seamlessly like insects in a hive.

My captors fell into line and began moving back toward the village. It was rough going for me. I rolled around inside the net, unable to control my movements as all of my limbs were immobilized. The fae that carried me weren’t deliberately trying to harm me, but they weren’t taking any special precautions, either. If they bumped into a tree or a rock, they weren’t concerned. And I didn’t hear anything that sounded like an apology.

The sky and the roof of the forest whirled dizzyingly above me. After a while I started to feel sick and closed my eyes. I didn’t think I had run that far, but the journey back seemed to take forever.

I fell asleep again despite the uncomfortable ride. The pregnancy book I’d purchased (a hundred years ago, in another life, it seemed) had mentioned a constant state of tiredness, particularly in the first trimester. It hadn’t mentioned anything about supernatural offspring, although I could extrapolate that my child might be especially exhausting.

I was shaken roughly awake when I was unceremoniously dumped in another dwelling. This one was a lot less primitive than the last. There was an actual floor, made of smooth planks of light wood. The floor was scattered with shiny green leaves.

The faerie that had carried me silently left the room. They probably figured I couldn’t do too much damage as tightly bound as I was. Which meant they hadn’t realized I was the one who had set the other hut on fire. That was good. It meant I could still surprise them. And the way things were going so far, I would need all the surprises I could get.

I rolled onto my back so I could get a good look at the rest of the room. This position was not even remotely comfortable. My wings and hands were bound behind me so I had to lie on top of them. Still, by lifting my head up I could get a better view without flopping from one side to another.

There were a few pieces of furniture—some chairs, a low table—all of which looked as if they’d been formed from the branches of trees. There were no paintings or photographs on the wall, but a large shrine was given pride of place on one side of the room.

The top of the shrine was decorated with several carved figures. Candles were set at five separate points around the top. I wondered who these faerie worshiped. They were like no fae I had seen before.

Two doorways covered in leaf curtains stood at either end of the room. I suspected that I was about to meet some kind of leader, and I was right.

A tall man who could have been anywhere from thirty to fifty years old entered. Faeries age differently than humans do, at least in my time and place, so he was probably well older than he appeared. The man’s face was grim, his eyes were blue, and he had the lean, sinewy look of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. He was flanked by two younger men who walked a step or two behind him in obvious deference to his status.

He strode in with the air of a person about to lay down the law. I figured I’d better throw him off balance before he went all “Off with her head” on me.

“I’m hungry,” I announced.

The three men stopped at the sound of my voice. The leader spoke to the man on his left. This faerie was also tall, with caramel-brown hair streaked with yellow, and very golden brown eyes. The third man had blond hair and green eyes, and a strange quality that seemed to make him fade into the background.

All of the faerie wore a sleeveless brown tunic with leggings, which made them look like escapees from Middle Earth. The man on the right, the disappearing blond, held my sword in his hand. I breathed an inward sigh. I thought I’d lost it.

The leader and the brown-haired man had a short exchange in their own language before the second man spoke. In English. That was a surprise.

“My lord Batarian requires information of you. If you answer honest and true, your bonds will be released and you will be given nourishment.”

“If not, then death and/or dismemberment will follow, et cetera, et cetera?” I asked, watching Batarian carefully as I said this. His face did not move a muscle, but his eyes flickered.

The second man spoke again. “I do not know what this ‘et cetera’ is, but I assure you that you will suffer if you do not cooperate.”

“I’m suffering now,” I said, making my voice as whiny and annoying as possible. “I’m hungry. I’m thirsty. My hands are going numb. I was dragged out of a tree when I wasn’t bothering anyone.”

“I think you misunderstand your position,” the man said icily. “You are a prisoner, not a guest.”

“Well, at least that clarifies my status,” I said. “I thought this was the way you invited people over for dinner.”

“My lord has—” the man began again, but I cut him off.

“In my country, prisoners have certain rights,” I said. I was going to make this guy snap if it was the last thing I did. I didn’t have a lot of power while tied up and lying on the floor, but as long as I wasn’t gagged, I could drive somebody crazy.

“You are not
in
your country,” the translator said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, and speaking of that, just where in the hell am I?”
Because when I get back home I want to thank Nathaniel for sending me here—before I smack him in the head several times.

“I will be the one to ask the questions!” the man thundered.

“No,” I said, gesturing toward Batarian. “He will.”

The translator looked uncertain for a moment, then gathered his dignity. “Of course, Lord Batarian is the ultimate authority here, but he will ask his questions through me.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you saying you refuse to cooperate?”

“No,” I said. “I’m saying Batarian can stop pretending he doesn’t speak my language.”

I had to give Batarian credit. His expression never changed.

“Lord Batarian has entrusted me to . . .”

I glared at Batarian. “Stop. Pretending.”

The translator made a move like he was going to strike me.

“Stop!” Batarian said in English.

I raised an eyebrow at him. He gave me a slight nod of acknowledgment. “How did you know?”

“All the time that I was going back and forth with this guy, you never asked what I was saying,” I said. “In my experience, a ruler likes to know everything, especially when a conversation is occurring in his presence. You weren’t interrupting constantly to ask what I was saying, and he wasn’t translating everything I said as a matter of course. He’s a failure, too, actually. Neither of you played your parts very well.”

“Perhaps that is because duplicity does not come as easily to us as to one of your kind,” the translator said.

“And what do you know of my kind?” I said. “We seem to be thin on the ground around here.”

“Enough to know that one of Lucifer’s cannot be trusted,” he shot back.

I stilled. What did they know of Lucifer here, and how did they know about me?

“Sakarian!” Batarian snapped. He looked furious. The younger man had given away information that his lord was not yet ready to share.

Sakarian, looking chastened, bent his head toward Batarian and said something in their native language, sounding apologetic.

Batarian responded, his tone clipped. I looked from one to the other. They did not physically resemble each other except for their height, but still . . .

“Is he your kid?” I asked, jerking my head toward Sakarian. This gesturing-with-my-head thing was getting old. My neck was sore.

“I do not understand ‘kid,’” Batarian said, his brow furrowing.

“Your son,” I said. “Is he your son?”

The two of them exchanged glances with the third man, who had thus far remained silent and still.

“How did you know that?” Batarian asked.

“Are you some kind of witch?” Sakarian asked suspiciously.

I shrugged—or, at least, tried to. I could barely move my shoulders a millimeter with the way I was tied up. “It’s just the way you act with each other. There’s a familiarity, despite all of the ‘my lord’–ing.”

Batarian looked troubled. “It appears we have revealed far more than we have concealed. Perhaps Sakarian is right. We are not practiced in the ways of duplicity.”