The Hunt: A Custodes Noctis Book (16 page)

BOOK: The Hunt: A Custodes Noctis Book
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“Flash,” Galen growled. A wave of annoyance bordering on anger boiled through their connection. He pulled up beside Flash’s car, calmly turned the jeep’s engine off, opened the door and got out. Flash was out and around his car as soon as Galen’s feet hit the ground, an expectant grin on his face. Galen grabbed Flash and shoved him against the car. “What the hell are you doing here?”
 
“I take it from this reaction, things are even worse than I thought?” Flash inquired with a smile.
 
“I left you in charge of my shop!” Galen shook him.
 
“Yeah, you did, I delegated.”
 
“To? Don’t say Rhiannon.”
 
“Galen?” Rob said quietly, walking up beside his brother and Flash.
“We’re being watched,”
he added silently.
 
“Who?”
Galen replied, letting go of Flash as if Rob had stopped him.
 
“A man over by the archway. I think we should go to the room.”
 
“Get your stuff and get upstairs, Flash,” Galen said, stepping back.
 
“My stuff’s already in my room.” Flash grinned. “Next door to yours.”
 
Galen threw his hands up and stalked off, Flash followed him. Rob paused, watching the man standing by the archway. Some of the same patterns he’d seen around the priestess flowed around him. A raven croaked overhead, Rob glanced up, the bird was sitting on the roof of the motel. When he looked back towards the arch, the man was gone.
 
“Rob!” Galen called from the walkway outside their room.
 
“Coming.” He walked up the stairs and into the room. Flash was leaning against the wall by the door to the balcony, a smile on his face. Rob wasn’t fooled, he could see the nervousness in Flash’s stance.
 
Galen was pacing in front of him. “What’s going on?” Rob said, closing the door.
 
“You didn’t leave Rhiannon in the shop did you?” Galen asked.
 
“No,” Flash said, swallowing.
 
“What?” Galen narrowed his eyes.
 
“Well, I did call her and she came by, but while I was telling her about stuff, this priest came in. Said he was looking for Rob, when I told him you were out here, he got this weird look and left without another word. Rhiannon said that was a bad sign and went off to find Greg and Mike, and I called…”
 
“Who?”
 
“Pete and Sean, of course.”
 
“Pete and Sean? You left those two idiots in charge of the shop?”
 
“Fuck no, do you think I’m stupid?”
 
“That remains to be seen,” Galen grumbled.
 
“I told Becci, too, she said she’d keep Sean and Pete in line. Pete’s terrified of her.”
 
“Wait, did you say Rhiannon is getting Mike and Greg? To do what?” Rob asked over Galen’s groan.
 
“She said they would be out.”
 
“They would be out? Gods.” Galen groaned louder and sank into one of the chairs by the table, dropping his head into his hands.
 
“Galen?”
 
“I don’t know whether to laugh or kill someone. My head hurts.” Galen sighed and looked up. “Relax, Flash, it’s okay.”
 
“Really?” Flash sagged in relief and sat down in the other chair. “What’s in here?” He picked up the bottle the priestess had given them and turned it upside down, watching the viscous liquid as it moved.
 
“I don’t know.” Galen took the bottle from him and started to open it.
 
“No!” Rob snatched it from him, then looked at it in surprise. “Sorry.”
 
“You okay?” Flash asked, frowning at him.
 
“Yes,” Rob said,
 
“No,” Galen spoke in the same moment.
 
“Right.” Flash nodded. “That’s what I thought. Do you tell me? Or do I guess?”
 
The room’s phone buzzed, Galen picked it up. “Yes? Oh? Yes.” He waited for a moment and replaced the receiver in the cradle. “Dinner’s waiting for us.”
 
“Dinner? I’m ravenous.” Flash jumped up. “What?”
 
“Ravenous?” Rob asked with a laugh, trying to dispel the uncomfortable feeling suffusing his body. Each step along the ritual path seemed to pull him further towards oblivion.
 
“Got a word-of-the-day calendar, that was yesterday’s word.” Flashed grinned.
 
The restaurant was across the parking lot from their room. Flash walked beside Galen, Rob trailed behind. He watched his brother, worry flowed around Galen, even bubbling through the muted bond. There was tension as well, Rob rarely saw it, but Galen was wound tight, ready to strike out at something. When they reached the restaurant, Galen held up a hand to stop them, and walked into the building first, then motioned them to join him. There were few diners in the large room. A fire burned in a fireplace in the far corner.
 
“Welcome,” the hostess greeted them with a wide smile. “I will show you to your table.” She frowned when Flash stopped beside Galen. “Is your
servant
dining with you?”
 
“Yes, of course,” Rob said. She nodded and led the way to an alcove set behind the fireplace.
 
“Your what? I’m a what?” Flash demanded from behind him.
 
A table was waiting for them, set for two and decorated with golden branches, bright silver bells and evergreen boughs. The hostess brought a third chair and placed it at the table, a sour expression on her face. She walked into the kitchen and a moment later someone came out with a third place setting, although not as ornate as the other two.
 
“Should I be offended?” Flash grumbled as he sat down. “What’s this stuff?” He fingered the centerpiece.
 
“Mistletoe,” Galen said, sitting as well.
 
“That’s what it looks like?” Flash asked.
 
Rob grinned at him. “I think you’re usually more worried about who’s standing under it than what it looks like, Flash.”
 
“Probably.”
 
“No probably about it,” Rob said, watching a waitress approach. They hadn’t ordered, but she had a tray full of food. She put a plate of appetizers in front of each of them and filled their wine glasses from a bottle of golden liquid, all without saying a word.
 
After serving them, she bowed and headed back through the double doors that led into the kitchen.
 
“What’s this?” Flash said, sniffing the liquid in the glass.
 
“Mead,” Galen said, tasting it.
 
“Mead? As in wine made from honey?”
 
“I can’t think of another kind,” Rob answered and took a sip, the fiery liquid burned a trail down his body, warming him.
 
When they’d finished their appetizers, the waitress returned with more food. Rob and Galen sent the steaks back, Flash started on his like a starving feral dog. A loud argument flowed out from behind the doors, a female voice and a deep male voice. Several minutes later she was back with plates full of cooked grains, fruit and bread. Rob smiled his thanks and she left. They ate mostly in silence. The waitress appeared and refilled their glasses on a regular basis. By the time dinner was over, Rob was
 
tipsy, not quite drunk, but close. He could tell from the smile on Galen’s face that his brother was in the same state. Flash was more than tipsy. Rob frowned at the glass in front of him, maybe there was more in the goblets than just mead. He couldn’t tell, after the third glass, the Sight had been reduced to nothing but a wash of colors swirling through the restaurant.
 
As the Sight dimmed, the call of the Hunt increased. He could hear them clearly, the baying hounds and the pounding hooves as they moved through the cold fields. There were other sounds, soft chirps of the creatures that filled the world after dark, things most people pretended didn’t exist.
 
“It’s late,” Galen said, standing up. He hauled Flash to his feet and looked over at Rob. “You okay to stand, Brat?”
 
“‘M fine.” He pushed himself up then grabbed at the table when the world moved around him. “Floor moved,” he mumbled.
 
“Right.” Galen chuckled and they left, the hostess opened the doors so they didn’t have to pause as they walked out of the restaurant.
 
Galen dropped Flash off in front of the door to his room, waiting until Flash opened it and went in before he opened the door to their suite. The fire was burning in the fireplace and a silver cup sat on the table, the bottle the priestess had given them standing beside it. Rob opened the door to the balcony, letting the smell of the fog into the room. With a deep breath, he poured the liquid, watching the iridescent colors play in glass before lifting it and turning to Galen. Fear curled through him, like the cold mists moving into the room.
 
Galen put a hand on his shoulder. “Rob?”
 
“I…” Rob smiled at his brother. “I have no idea what this is going to do, there is no mention of it anywhere.”
 
“I know.”
 
Rob met Galen’s eyes and drank it in one large gulp. Almost immediately, everything blurred at the edges. He blinked. Galen was swaying back and forth—or Rob thought he was, until Galen steadied him. The spell was working fast, a heaviness invaded his limbs, conscious thought was suddenly hard and keeping his eyes open was an impossibility. “Of everything that could happen, I didn’t expect this,” he heard his voice say indistinctly.
 
“What?”
 
“It… Would… Put… Me… To… Slee…” He couldn’t finish, he was aware of Galen catching him before he fell and then the mists filled him, pulling him away into the dark lands full of the call of the Hunt.
 
 
 
Chapter Twelve
 
Galen
 
 
 
The damp scent of fog curled through the room, Galen could hear the soft song of the frogs somewhere in the grass outside their room. He checked Rob, making sure his brother was just asleep, nothing more serious. Whatever had been in the mead had eased his brother into a deep sleep, full of dreams. Galen could feel the tingle of the drug along his hands, he dropped into a chair beside the bed, suddenly exhausted. The tingle became an ache and Galen focused the healing inwards, diagnosing what was going on.
 
Poison.
 
He must have been unconsciously blocking it, the healing reacting reflexively, keeping the dose from killing him as quickly as it was probably intended. Concentrating, he sent the healing through his body, chasing the spell creating the dark poison away.
 
When he that spell under control he finished ridding his body of the poison by removing the last of the liquid from his stomach.
 
The sound of someone vomiting came through the wall. Galen raced to Flash’s room and pounded on the door. “Open up, Flash!” His friend didn’t answer. The door was locked, so rather than trying to force it, he ran back into his room and out onto the balcony. He jumped up and grabbed the edge of the roof and pulled himself hand over hand along the gutter until he was over the wall separating their balcony from Flash’s. Galen dropped down and pulled the glass door open.
 
Flash was lying on the floor, just outside the bathroom door. Galen ran to him, turned him over, laid his hands on Flash’s chest and forehead and flooded him with the healing, suspecting his friend had been given the same poison. At first it resisted his push, then the spell gave way, flowing out of Flash like the filth from an infected wound.
 
“Galen?” Flash mumbled.
 
“Yeah,” Galen replied, pulling Flash to his feet and dragging an arm over his shoulders. He half-carried, half-walked Flash back to their room, dropped him on the couch in the main room and grabbed a bottle of water. “Hey, Flash!”
 
“Hmmm?”
 
“Come on, drink some water.”
 
“Don’t wanna, got sick.”
 
“Yeah, good thing you’re a barfer.”
 
“I am,” Flash agreed, then opened his eyes. “Galen?”
 
“Drink.” He handed Flash the bottle, noting how his friend’s hand was shaking.
 
Flash did as he was told. “Am I in your room?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“How’d I get here?”
 
“You flew.”
 
“Thought so.” Flash closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch. “Can I sleep?”
 
“You should be okay now.”
 
“Tell me what happened in the morning?”
 
“I will.”
 
“Thanks,” Flash said, the word ending in a snore.
 
Galen chuckled softly. It had been a close call, but Flash was okay.
He went to check on his brother, Rob’s breathing was even, his eyes moving behind his eyelids. The edges of Rob’s dream echoed through Galen, the landscape familiar. When he heard the pounding of hooves he thought it was part of his brother’s dream, but the sound moved through the room, brushing aside the other calls of the night. The sweet-sick smell of rotting flesh was flowing in on the fog. Galen walked to the balcony and stepped out.
 
One of the
each uisge
stood under a stunted tree looking like a white-boned ghost drifting on the fog. As he watched, another came to stand beside the first, its head lifted, listening to the approaching Hunt. The
each uisge
moved out from the tree, the tall grass shifting with their movement. The sounds of the night were completely gone, shut off as if a switch had been flipped. The
each uisge
stopped to look at something Galen couldn’t see. The fog rippled like a curtain brushed by the wind, then parted, a deep darkness spilling out of the rip, flowing onto the land. It raced towards the
each uisge
, the creatures turned, but the darkness was on them before they could move. One of them screamed, the sound tearing into Galen like a knife. The other ran, heading towards the noise of the Hunt. The one left behind, wounded and on the ground, was whimpering as the dark thing fell on it, the
each uisge’s
teeth and claw-like front hooves powerless against the creature.
 
Galen turned from the window and grabbed his sword. “Rob?” he called, entering the bedroom. He walked to the bed. “Rob?” There was no answer, not even a whisper of acknowledgment. He tried shaking Rob, letting the healing flow at the same time, but whatever spell they’d given Rob was blocking Galen’s Gift as effectively as if it didn’t exist. An eerie howl of pain echoed through the room. He couldn’t wait any longer.
 
He ran out of the room, heading down the stairs and out to the back of the motel where the thing was devouring the
each uisge—
alive, judging by the moans of pain issuing from the gray-fleshed creature. He plunged into the grass, thick mud tugging at his shoes as he moved.
 
The thing saw him. It looked up from the
each uisge
and growled, black teeth glittering in a darker maw, the little light there disappearing into it, sucked out of the world. With another growl, so low it rumbled through the ground, it moved away from the
each uisge
. The threat clear in the movement, Galen understood. He shouted a wordless cry of challenge and raised his blade, wishing his brother was at his back. This was more than he’d ever faced alone, even during the years Rob was gone.
 
Its eyes locked with his, he felt a psychic blow building, then it lashed out, the energy slamming into Galen as it charged, its roar deafening him. The first charge was a feint, it circled him, alternating between the growl, almost a purr, and the roar; trying to unnerve Galen with its actions. He didn’t wait for the next attack, but dove forward, slashing with his blade. It swept through the thing, stopping on something hard in its massive bulk. Galen pulled the blade free, suddenly regretting his tendency to grab the falcata rather than his
Custodes Noctis
sword.
 
The creature swung at him, the claws tearing at Galen’s shirt as he danced away from it.
  
It howled in rage at the near miss and struck out again. Galen felt the burn across his back as he rolled to escape the blow, he was back on his feet an instant later and landed a solid hit. It felt like it was going well, he knew it was an illusion and he was going to lose.
 
“Rob?”
he called through their connection, the soft reflection of his brother’s dream was all that bounced back. The thing took advantage of the second of distraction and hit him with a broadside of blackened energy, slamming him to the ground. For a moment he thought he felt something buzz along the bond with Rob, but it was fleeting and gone before he could take advantage of it.
 
It was too late anyway.
 
Its approach trembled through the ground. He pushed himself over, lifting his sword, hoping to do a little more damage before the thing killed him.
“Sorry, Rob.”
It towered over him, the fetid scent of its breath washing over him. Galen struck out, cutting a slice from its jaw. It raised an arm and Galen braced himself for the blow. He waited until the last moment, then rolled to the left, into a small depression in the mud left by the
each uisge’s
thrashing
legs as the creature bit into it. The move was enough to save him, the thing’s claws just grazed him as he slipped out from under its hand. He stumbled to his feet between it and the
each uisge.
 
Galen saw them then, the Hunt was coming towards him at high speed, the horses spreading out in battle formation as they neared. The thing sensed them and turned. Galen used the opportunity to ram his sword into its back, dragging the blade through the shadow-flesh, breathing through the pain running up the metal and into his body. The lead horseman was on the thing, swinging a huge war sword. The creature tried to escape the blow, but didn’t seem to be able to free itself from Galen’s blade. A second horseman was there as well, then the rest of the Hunt, driving their weapons into the thing. It roared and dropped to the ground, covering the grass with soot-like ooze.
 
Galen pulled his falcata from the body and used it to help steady himself as the Hunt gathered around him. He braced himself against the exhaustion that was suddenly flooding him, the stings from the wounds the dark thing had given him were pulsing in time with the black scar left on his heart from where the Old One had resided until the year before. He hadn’t been able to heal it all the way and it worried him as it reacted to what was happening with a soft throbbing chill. Although it was probably what let him see the darkness that attacked the
each uisge
before it was all the way formed. He shook his head, focusing on what was going on around him.
 
“Emrys,” the lead horseman, the king, said, reining in beside Galen. “You fought for one of us?”
 
It took a moment for the words to make sense, without Rob there Galen had to piece together the language himself.
 
“Yes,” he answered uncertainly.
 
“Why?” the second horseman sneered—Galen recognized him as the king’s champion.
 
“I fought for one of you,” Galen paused, trying to work his way through tenses and conjugations, “because I, too, will be one of you.” His pronunciation was bad, but he was understood. It must have been the right answer, the members of the Hunt nodded in approval.
 
“You lie,” the champion said.
 
“No,” Galen growled, unwilling to back down. In fact, he was lying, he hadn’t done it because he would ride with the Hunt, he would have fought the darkness no matter what, the
each uisge
just
happened to be there when it broke through the Veil, so he’d fought for it as well.
 
“It is good,” the king said, reaching down and slapping Galen on the shoulder. “Thank you, we will see you at the ritual. Gather him,” the king said to the Hunt. Two of the riders pulled away from the others and went to where the
each uisge
lay. They dismounted and walked towards the wounded creature. Crooning softly, the second
each uisge
approached and helped the riders lift its fellow to its feet. Still crooning, something close enough to a keen to set Galen’s teeth on edge, it helped the wounded
each uisge
move off into the mists. The king waited until his riders had mounted and, with a final nod at Galen, led the Hunt back into the night.
 
Galen listened until the sound of pounding hooves disappeared before he turned back to the motel. He walked slowly up the stairs and opened the door to the room, half expecting something to attack. Nothing was there, though, and he checked on Rob then headed into the main room to take his shoes off. He dropped into one of the over-stuffed chairs in front of the TV and leaned back, planning to focus a little of the healing into the wounds the dark thing had given him. Lifting his feet onto the footstool, he rested his head against the back of the chair. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and focused the healing, letting it warm him and take the deep throb of pain away.
 
“Galen.” Something was shaking him.
 
“Let me sleep, you open,” Galen mumbled, blindly batting at the hand on his shoulder. The shaking continued. “Ow, hurts, stop.”
 
The shaking stopped and he was pulled away from whatever he’d been leaning against. “What the hell happened?” Rob snapped.
 
“Hmm?” Sleep was starting to give way. “What happened?”
 
“You got blood all over the chair.”
 
“I did?” Galen opened his eyes and blinked. Sunlight was pouring through the window, the roaring of the surf an undertone to the bird song coming into the room.
He sat up, feeling the mostly healed wounds pull across his back.
 
“You did.” Rob sat down on the footstool.
 
“I’ll tell them it was you.” Galen rolled his shoulders, the cuts weren’t nearly as deep as they’d felt the night before, the muscles uninjured.
 

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