Shadow Magic (27 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

BOOK: Shadow Magic
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BY THE SLANT OF sunlight streaming through the warehouse windows, Hannah judged it to be afternoon now. Her muscles felt stiff from sleeping so long, and she uncurled her body from where she had been snuggling against Garran.
Hannah raised herself to a sitting position and looked down at him. She frowned. He hadn't moved, not at all, and a strange feeling twisted deep in her belly. What if he didn't wake up?
The overwhelming concern she felt for him turned that twist in her belly into a deep ache. She pushed the thoughts away. He'd be all right. He was just down for the count from doing—from doing whatever it was he'd done.
She held her hand to her arm and touched her moon and crescent armband as she got to her feet. Her red robe was rumpled and she probably looked as bad as she felt—tired and dirty. When she glanced at the place where her clothing was stacked she saw her pack next to her things. She furrowed her brow. The pack was a little sandy and looked bulky, as if everything she'd taken to the shore had been stuffed inside it.
Cassia had probably scried the whole thing and had known where to find Hannah's stuff. She blew out a breath and shook her head. Goddess only knew if they'd ever figure Cassia out. The half-Elvin witch no doubt had far too many secrets inside her as far as Hannah was concerned.
She grabbed some clothing and toiletry items and headed for one of the bathrooms set up in the warehouse, complete with showers. She wasn't in the mood to spend much time showering, so she got in, cleaned up, and was back in the room she shared with Garran in no time.
He was so lifeless looking.
Hannah's damp hair swung forward as she knelt and touched her fingers to the pulse on his neck. Strong as it had been each time. Whatever it was that had knocked him out at least hadn't come close to killing him. The ache that had been in her belly moved up to her throat.
She located the bottles of magical healing oils and grabbed the one that smelled of cedar. She put some on her palms and began rubbing it over his chest. His skin felt warmer under her hands than it had before, which gave her some measure of relief.
While she massaged the healing oil into his skin, Hannah imbued it with her magic, the green sparkles floating between his body and hers. It weakened her a bit, but more importantly, she hoped it would help Garran recover.
When there was nothing left for her to do, she gave him one last look and headed out of the room to locate her Coven sisters.
She reached the kitchen, catching the strong scent of patchouli incense when she opened the door. The other witches were just getting to their feet, their divination tools still on the table.
Pain slammed into her chest as she looked at each one of them. They had divined without her. Then the realization that she had no way to scry now made that mental blow even harder.
Doing her best to keep her expression and her voice calm and controlled, Hannah said, “What did you learn?”
Mackenzie had a hard expression on her face, and her hair was in disarray, as if she'd just run her fingers through her long blond curls. “I saw the Drow—betraying us.”
Shock coursed through Hannah, making her scalp prickle.
“I saw the same.” Silver rubbed her hand on her abdomen that was just starting to show that she was pregnant. “The Drow attacking us, not the Fomorii.”
Rhiannon put her hands on her hips and her green eyes looked like flashing emeralds. Her chin-length hair swung around her face as her gaze met that of each of the Coven sisters. “In my vision, there was something more to it. I can't tell what that is. None of us had unconditionally clear visions that my father will turn on us.”
Copper balanced on the foot that didn't have a cast. “Rhiannon's right. My dreams have shown me nothing about Garran being a traitor. He saved my life when the door to Underworld was opened—at the cost of his brother's life—and I don't believe for a minute he'll betray us.”
Mackenzie's face flushed. “How do you know he won't use his dark magic to send all of
us
away, just like he did the Fomorii?”
The normally silent Alyssa spoke up in her quiet voice. “How do we know he sent the demons to Underworld, and not someplace to battle us?”
Everyone but Cassia started talking, arguing, and Hannah put her fingertips to her forehead. Helplessness was not something she remembered ever feeling. Before there had always been something backing her up that helped her remain strong and confident. But without her scrying ability …
She squeezed her eyes shut. There had to be a way for her to learn what was happening.
The Drow. She had to go to the Dark Elves to see if they could help her find out what was wrong with Garran—and what he'd done. What kind of power he had.
“Stop.” Cassia's voice cut across the arguing going on in the kitchen, and everyone fell silent as her turquoise eyes pinned each of them one by one. “Since when do we act in this manner? It has never been so.”
Cassia's words and tone had a formal, almost Otherworldly quality to them that Hannah had never heard before.
The effect was definitely sobering. Every witch seemed
to straighten. Hannah imagined she could actually see minds and emotions clearing.
“You're right.” Silver had always been the leader of the group, even though they all turned to Cassia more and more for guidance. Silver pushed her long silvery-blond hair out of her face. “We've got to figure this out together.”
While the other witches started discussing their divinations, Hannah gave in to the realization that right now she needed Rhiannon. Of all the D'Anu, Rhiannon was probably the only one who could help Hannah now.
She walked up to Rhiannon, who narrowed her gaze at Hannah. This time Hannah didn't push it and step into what she called Rhiannon's little box—her personal space.
“I need to talk to you.” She glanced at the other D'Anu, who were animatedly discussing the divinations. “Alone.”
Rhiannon tilted her head to the side. “Why?”
Hannah held back a sound of frustration. “Please. It's about your father.”
Rhiannon glanced at the other witches then back to Hannah. “All right.”
They slipped out of the kitchen and Hannah led Rhiannon to the quietest place she could find, a small alcove near the strategy/planning area. She gave a nod to Jake Macgregor who watched her and Rhiannon walk across the room. No one else seemed to notice them.
When they were alone, Hannah pushed the blond shock of hair behind her ear and barely kept herself from giving in to a nervous bout of pacing.
Hannah took a deep breath. “I need your help.”
Rhiannon immediately had a wary expression. “With what?”
“Your father.” Hannah kept her eyes focused on Rhiannon's. “I need to go to the Drow to find out what's happening to Garran. What he's doing and why it hurts him each time.”
“That's risky.” Rhiannon frowned. “I'm actually beginning to feel like I can trust Garran, but I'm not so sure about the others.”
“I know.” Hannah felt that ever-present tightening in her gut. “But we need to find out what's going on and this is the only way I can think of doing it.”
“Why do you care about my father?” Rhiannon folded her arms across her chest, looked even a little angry. “Back when I first found out who he was, you called him a traitor.”
“I did,” Hannah said quietly. “But I've changed my mind.”
Rhiannon had something between irritation and amusement on her face. As if she had such conflicting emotions she didn't know whether to lash out or laugh. “You care about him.”
Hannah paused as she thought about Rhiannon's words and a strange feeling wavered beneath her skin. How had she gone from mistrusting Garran to being so concerned, in such a short amount of time? “Yes, I do,” she finally said. “And even though
you
didn't trust him at first, you do now.”
Rhiannon paused then nodded. “Yeah. Gut instinct, or something, but somewhere deep inside I'm sure he's not bad.”
“I know where the Drow come in to San Francisco,” Hannah said. “I need you to help me go through the passage.”
Since Rhiannon was half Drow, she was half-Elvin and could pass through this world to Otherworld at transference points. Hannah couldn't because she didn't have any Elvin blood in her.
“We'll have to more or less sneak out of here.” Rhiannon looked around them as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “If we tell anyone about this, you know they'd never let us go. But I don't know how to get past the D'Danann guards.”
“You're part Drow.” Hannah glanced in the same direction Rhiannon had before looking back at her. “Your father gave me some of his Drow magic before Ceithlenn captured me. I was able to use his magic with mine to make a glamour strong enough that the D'Danann didn't see me leave.”
“I wondered how you got away with that.” Rhiannon
wiped her hands on her jeans. “Anything we need to take with us?”
Hannah's lips curved in a wry smile. “Our magic is about all we have to protect us. I don't think either of us are good with a dagger.”
“No kidding.” Rhiannon smiled back. “We might as well get this done and see if we can get back before anyone gets really worried. Keir will kill me.”
Hannah nodded, and as one they each pulled a glamour. Hannah blinked. “
I
can't even see you, Rhiannon.”
“Same here.” It was strange hearing the disembodied voice. Usually when they pulled a glamour only using their D'Anu magic they could see each other. “I'll go first.”
Hannah whispered to Rhiannon which pier they would pass through the door to the Drow realm.
“I know exactly where that is,” Rhiannon whispered back.
Because she couldn't see Rhiannon, Hannah waited a second to make sure Rhiannon had passed. Hannah reached out with her new Drow powers and sensed Rhiannon walking in front of her as they made their way through the work areas in the warehouse.
She still ran right into the invisible Rhiannon when she came to a stop as two of the D'Danann passed by. Hannah held back a little more as she made her way to the warehouse door. She ran into Rhiannon again when she got to the door. Rhiannon hissed and Hannah backed up.
“Wait until someone opens the door,” Rhiannon whispered.
Hannah rubbed her arms as they waited, her skin shivery with the need to
go
. Finally, one of the D'Danann stepped out and Hannah slipped behind him. She hoped Rhiannon had made it out, too, as she headed toward the dock.
“With me?” Hannah whispered as she walked away from the warehouse.
“You're going to have to drop your glamour once we get near that pier so I can see you and the door.”
Not seeing Rhiannon and hearing her speak still made Hannah feel a little unsettled.
When they reached the pier, Hannah said “I think it's safe now,” and dropped her glamour.
It was actually a relief to see Rhiannon when she dropped her glamour, too.
Rubble trickled beneath Hannah's running shoes as they climbed down below the wooden planks and around one of the huge pilings. Hannah showed Rhiannon the dirt and rock wall she and Garran had passed through to make it to San Francisco.
Rhiannon grabbed Hannah's hand and said, “Here go the two craziest witches on the planet.”
Being in this whole mess together made Hannah feel surprisingly closer to Rhiannon. And when they took that first step straight at the wall, Hannah had full confidence that Rhiannon would get them to the Drow realm.
Hannah closed her eyes. She never felt the earth or rock as they walked forward, hand in hand. But as always, everything went hazy then black. Again, Hannah couldn't hear, couldn't see, and her skin numbed. This time panic didn't rise up in her—fear that Rhiannon would let go. Quiet confidence pushed away some of the numbness.
When their feet met stone, they both stumbled a bit. Smells of damp earth and moss met Hannah's senses and cool air skimmed her bare arms. She opened her eyes and Rhiannon released her hand.
It was so dark that even after blinking a few moments, Hannah still couldn't see. “Should have brought a flashlight.”
“I think it's the Drow in me—I see a black door over here.”
“That's got to be it.”
A thumping sound and then light streamed into the space she and Rhiannon were in. It wasn't too bright, so as they walked through, Hannah easily saw the throne room with its crystal walls, freeform artwork—and a bunch of Dark Elves seated around a great oval table.
Men who stared in their direction with obvious surprise. A couple of the Drow had even risen from their chairs and had unsheathed their swords.

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