The Hunt: A Custodes Noctis Book (25 page)

“What are you talking about?” Galen growled. “A chance? I thought you were handing me and Rob over to them to free your friends.”

“I was, but this is better. We can free them and maybe, just maybe, still have a chance at stopping the
feorhbealu
and their ranks. The idiot’s right, we need a plan.”

The fog had finally rolled in, the setting sun turning the mists into swirling blood. Rob was standing on the balcony, his eyes focused on the
each uisge
still standing at the edge of the trees. The ravens were playing on the stone in the field behind the motel, their harsh laughter filling the air. The bells had started chiming again, the sound far off, but he could hear them clearly as well as the pounding of hooves as the Hunt rode through the fields, unseen in the thick mists, waiting impatiently for the final ritual to begin.
 
He could hear the soft murmurs of the conversation in the room, but he’d closed the connection with Galen as much as he could, partially to block the call of the Hunt from his brother and partially so he wouldn’t know what the others intended for the night. That was part of the plan; if he couldn’t fight it and became the king, then their plan wouldn’t be known to the Hunt.

“Sun’s setting,” Galen said, stepping out onto the balcony. He slid the glass door closed and
 
stood beside Rob.

“If I believed in omens, this would worry me.” Rob gestured at the blood-red mists obscuring the ocean from view.

“You don’t?”

“Not like this, at least.” Rob laughed softly, watching Galen out of the corner of his eye. Even though the call of the Hunt was getting stronger, the bond was there, Galen’s worry and affection coming through clearly. Since they were done planning for the moment, Rob let go the reins on the Gift and the quicksilver power flowing around Galen popped into clear focus. Small spots of concern flowed though the mercury, a bright glow hovered over his chest. Whatever they’d been talking about inside, Galen was calm about it, the concern was for Rob and not himself.

“The ravens are back,” Galen said after several minutes of silence.

“The time for the final meal before the ritual is nearly here. They’re waiting for me.”

“I know. I want to talk to you about that.” Galen paused, uncertainty wavering in soft blue lines around him.

“If it’s about tonight, don’t worry, I know you’ll be there,” Rob said. Anger bubbled around Galen, buzzing through the bond. “What’d I say?” Rob asked, turning to face Galen.

“That damnable calm of yours, Rob.”

“What?” Rob blinked at him, the anger was beginning to pop around him. “You were calm first.”

Galen looked at him for a moment, then laughed. “Maybe, it’s not a bad plan. It’s not great, but it’s better than what we had.”

“You don’t trust Stephen?”

“I wouldn’t trust him if he said my eyes were green. I’d check three times before I even agreed that he might be, maybe, possibly, perhaps telling something that could resemble the truth. Trust is a ways from that.”

“I’m not all that sure of him myself. We don’t have a lot of choice.”

“No, thanks to that Fae piece of shit.” Galen took a deep breath. “And me. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Are we doing the ‘my fault thing’ again?”

“What?” Galen snapped, then ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. It is, though, you know.”

“Why?” Sometimes acting like he agreed with Galen was the best way to get answers.

“The Hunt was calling me.” The flat, sick gray of guilt tarnished the silver around Galen.

“Yeah, they were. They found you seven years ago.”

“They shouldn’t have been able to come for me once we performed the Ritual of Swords, you know that. It’s because…”

“Because of what?” Rob asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. The years that Galen had been “dead” still haunted him sometimes, the remembered ache of the broken bond a cold scar in his chest.

His own naivete surprised him. Rob had stuck to the Traditions for all those years, even when he was shunned by other Keepers and striving to make sense of a Gift that no one had dealt with before. Performing the Ritual of Swords and serving as
Custodes Noctis
had completed him, filled him with purpose and a calm that was hard to shake. He knew it was different for Galen, but he’d thought finally being a Keeper and serving would be the same for his brother. It hadn’t been. Those years Galen had lived in what amounted to terror of becoming one of the Keepers of the Legacy had affected him deeply. For Rob, it had been simple: once he’d realized who they were, all he had to do was call Galen back from the dead and they’d end it together. They were the Keepers, the ones who began and ended it. Simple.

When it was over, he’d assumed they would step into their roles as easily as he’d always wished. And they had—at first. They’d had a chance to work together and get to know each other again. He’d thought everything was okay, until four months ago when the bond started slipping. Rob knew now that was when the Hunt had started calling Galen again. It didn’t make sense, especially not when paired with the guilt. He was watching his brother, trying to figure it out when it all came together with such clarity he was surprised it didn’t appear as a physical presence.

“Rob,” Galen said softly, he must have felt a jolt through the bond.

“No,” Rob said, shaking his head.

“It’s still there, where the Old One was, I can feel it sometimes.”

“Galen.” Rob stepped forward and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder to make sure Galen would understand him. “You can’t change what’s happened, or the fact that we are those Keepers. It’s like denying that power you have that everyone else can see.” The rest of it fell into place. “You couldn’t have stopped what happened four months ago, either.”

“It was a minion of the Old One, it found you because of me.”

“Yeah, and you killed it pretty impressively, I seem to recall.” Rob smiled, resisting the urge to strangle his brother. “You can’t change any of it by denying who you—and we—are.”

“You’re always so sure.”

“Of course I am. What’s worrying you?”

Galen snorted. “You’re kidding?”

“Well, other than the obvious, what is it?”

“I saw something,” Galen said quietly.

“What?”

“When I was still dreaming of the Hunt every night. I was riding with them and one of the riders fell victim to a dark presence. I think it might have been a
feorhbealu
.”

“You think it was me who fell?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think about it then, I didn’t think you’d get sucked into my nightmare.”

“Galen?” Rob said, giving him a gentle shake. “We’re
Custodes Noctis
, it’s pretty much guaranteed.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Brat.” The bond strengthened. Rob realized Galen had been blocking him. “Whatever happens, I’ll be there tonight, Rob.”

“What’s going to happen?” Rob sighed. “I know you can’t tell me. It’s okay, Galen, I know you’ll be there.”

“Hang on to that, and yourself, as long as you can.”

“You think I’m going to lose myself, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t, but I think you do, Rob.”

“Yeah.” He smiled ruefully. “I might.”

The door slid open before Galen could answer and Flash stuck his head out. “They just brought dinner up, are you two eating?”

“Coming, thanks, Flash,” Galen said.

Rob followed his brother into the room. The table was set with gleaming metal plates, one gold, three silver. Covered dishes sat in the center of the table with a crystal decanter of mead and a golden flask. He sat down in front of the golden plate, he almost reached to pull a cover off one of the dishes when the king’s voice stopped him.
“They serve you, let them,”
it commanded. Rob let his hand drop and waited till Flash served him.

“This isn’t becoming a habit, by the way, Rob,” Flash grumbled as he served them. “I am not a servant.” Flash cocked his head to the side. “No, I’m not. Fuck you.”

“Flash?” Galen asked.

“Stupid bird,” Flash mumbled.

Rob followed Flash’s glance. The ravens were perched on the balcony railing. “Ignore them,” Rob said, trying to listen to his own advice, although with each bite of the meal the call of the Hunt and the joyfully longing ache in his bones began to increase.

and after a toast, they drank the contents. The bells increased, he could hear them coming, waiting for him.
“It is good, it is right, it is joy,”
the king said.

A sharp blow on his face muffled the call for a moment. “Did you slap me?” Rob asked Galen, rubbing his cheek.

“I did. Stay with me a moment longer, Rob. We have a plan. I’ll be there, and whatever happens in the next few minutes, remember we have a plan.”

“What’s going to happen?” Rob frowned at his brother.

The vision of what was coming uncoiled in his mind, a poisonous snake bearing joyous tidings. They were waiting outside at the rock the ravens had been sitting on. Waiting for him.

 

And his brother’s blood.

“No,” Rob whispered.

“It’s in the Sagas, Rob, it’s part of the ritual,” Galen said gently.

“You promised.” Rob turned on Stephen.

“Promised what?” Galen asked, giving him a shake.

“He said if I took your place, the blood wouldn’t be required. You promised.”

“I lied,” Stephen said with regret. “I’m sorry. It was before…” He stopped himself and shook his head. “I am sorry, Robert.”

“No,” Rob said, anguish filling his heart, the bells pulling him away from the agony of the vision. He drove his fingernails into his palm, pain bringing him back. He cast a wild glance at Galen and ran—from the room, from what was coming, from what he would do.

He heard Galen behind him as he tried to run away, heading from the refuge, from the stone altar, but his body refused to go, it followed the sound of the voices and the soft whisper of a raven’s laugh out into the wet ground. He stopped and looked up,
 
the
each uisge
was waiting to take him to the other place, the place where it could begin.
“Soon, very soon. The blood will begin it. Let it begin.”
Joy and fear fought for equal purchase in his heart.

Galen walked up to stand beside him, to stand in front of the ravens’ stone, the makeshift altar that would catch his blood. “He promised,” Rob said
.

 

“I’m sure he did. This isn’t your fault.”

“He promised, Galen. He said…”

Galen smiled at him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze to pull him back for a moment. “What did he say?”

The bells were chiming. He could hear the horses gathering.
“They are waiting,”
the voice of the king said.
 
The chanting was growing louder, the longing was starting as well. Pain mingled with exhilaration, knowing what would come. He was starting to lose focus, the world was falling away. He fought to focus on his brother. “He said I would be the sacrifice, that your blood wasn’t required.”