The Hunt: A Custodes Noctis Book (27 page)

The night flowed around him, the song changed seamlessly, one into another as they rode. The wind in his face was cold, exhilarating, as the horse galloped through the night, the flitting creatures flying ahead of them, singing their song. Time flowed around him, moving like the wind, like the horses.

“My brothers, it is time,” the new king called out, stopping his horse.
Galen rode up him and joined his brothers as they pounded the king’s back in joyful anticipation. As one they turned, the great hooves tearing into the earth as they rode back through the fields to the bog and altars, ready for the final ritual.

Galen pulled his mount to a stop just outside the ring lit by the fire. Swinging off the horse he went to stand in his place beside the Great Altar and watched as the ritual proceeded. As the rite moved forward, the man he’d been for a moment, the man who’d ridden joyfully with his king moved into the background and Galen became aware of a soft note of dread. He was beginning to doubt their ability to remain themselves and take control of the Hunt. Galen saw Guy moving along the edge of the circle, stopping to talk to Blake before moving on. Were they working together? No, the shocked recognition when Blake had first seen Guy wasn’t feigned. Galen focused back on the ritual, throwing open the bond, hoping Rob could latch onto that and not lose himself. He carefully shielded the plan, just in case things went wrong.

An icy hand touched his shoulder. “I am with you,” Guy said almost soundlessly.

“You are?”

“Yes, do not doubt that. I know something of your plan.”

“That Fae son of a bitch.”

“Yes, Stephen told me, but do not worry. He has his own motivations but in this, we are together.” Guy sighed.
 
“Perhaps we can save our brothers.”

Galen felt warm assurance move through the contact. The call of the Hunt was there in them both, but he could sense the determination from the other. “Thank you.”

“Let the ritual play out, if the plan succeeds tonight, it is settled. If not, we will find a way.”
 
Guy squeezed Galen’s shoulder and moved away.

The ritual had gone on while they spoke. The king was standing in front of Rob, a copper bowl in his hands. “My brother, myself, we share a last drink under these stars,” he said.

“Yes, my brother, myself, this last night is ours under these stars.” They drank from the cup. “Let the night come,” Rob begged, the longing in his voice breaking Galen’s heart.

 
Galen called again.

The answer was barely there, the voice muted, distant.
“I’m losing myself.”

 

The longing plea drifted through the bond, Rob’s voice fading to almost nothing.

Rob’s voice fell silent, but a warmth flowed through the bond.

“The night can come under these stars,” the king said, laying his hands on Rob’s shoulders.

“Let it come, my brother, myself,” Rob pleaded.
 

 

“It is here, I can rest. You can begin.” The old king sighed.

“We ride together always, my brother, myself,” Rob said.

The riders shouted out a salute, Galen joined them, his voice calling out in joy with those words. The bells started ringing and a drum was pounding, the sound like the hoof beats of the horses

“It is time,” the old king said, placing a sword in Rob’s hands.

“What the hell is happening?” Flash demanded from beside him.

“I don’t know.” The ritual was changing. Galen looked across the altar at Blake, catching the shake of his head. Blake didn’t know what was happening either.

“My brother, myself, my king.” Rob said, his voice radiating joy.

“My brother, myself, my king,” the other repeated.

Galen whispered, sensing disaster approaching. He saw Rob hesitate, and his brother’s eyes met his, a sideways glance, but for an instant Rob was there.

The old king stepped forward and put his hands on Rob’s shoulders. “My brother, myself, he will join you soon, he will ride with you under these stars.”

“Thank you, my brother, myself,” Rob said gently.

“The time is upon us, we sing our joy.” The dancers swirling around the altar lifted their voices to the stars. Galen heard his voice join them.

Something whispered through the bond. The ritual as it was to play out uncurling in mind. With that knowledge the sinking dread became something else. Fear, panic, terror, defeat, all combined. He wouldn’t be able to stop this, he had to let it happen, even though he knew what that mean.

Rob would be lost.

Rob lifted the sword, the tip hovering in the air before the old king.
Galen saw him hesitate as he waited for the precise moment of the Solstice. He was singing the soft chant of the Hunt, preparing them for the arrival of the king, only moments away. Rob reached out and put his hand on the king’s shoulder, the king mirrored the gesture. Lifting the sword, Rob held a single note until the sound vibrated around them. The king took a step back and Rob stepped forward with a quick thrust of the blade.
The sword slid into the king’s body. Rob moaned as they both dropped to their knees. Black blood was pouring from the old king’s mouth.

They knelt there, motionless, nothing moving in the clearing, time stopped for an instant. A dark mist began to flow around Rob and the king. Galen saw the horses shift and the
each uisge
toss their heads. He could feel Rob slipping away, the bright spark of his brother’s unique spirit becoming something else. Not living, not dead. Galen felt the sickening sensation as Rob became the king. Tears flowed, unheeded, over Galen’s face.

The old king disappeared, the huge black horse he’d ridden gave an keening cry, rearing up. As it came down, it changed to one of the gray steeds of the riders, walked into the ring of the other horses and waited. A rider flowed into existence beside it, fog preceding him, then rising to join the mists overhead. Rob—now the king—stood and walked to where Galen stood.

“Rob?” Galen asked, though he knew the answer.

“No more,” the king said gently.

The dancers began to move, the drum beating a heartbeat through the clearing. They danced together, riders, Fae and those that served them. The bells chimed in the night as the horses tossed their heads in celebration.

“You ride with us this night,” the king said to the
each uisge.
The creatures bugled happily and joined the dance. The king stepped away from Galen and surveyed the gathering. He waited until the dancers quieted, all movement stopped in anticipation. “The king is dead,” he called out.

“Long live the king.” Galen joined the shout of joy, defeat pounding through his heart.

“We will get our brothers back,” Guy said, coming up beside Galen.
 

“And the rest?” Galen said, trying to keep the emotion damped down.

“The
feorhbealu
? We will see. I fear one of our own is in their employ.”

“I know.”

“Come back here at dawn, my brother, as the last star dies and the sun rises.”

“I should stay.”

“No!” Guy snapped. “It’s not safe. Go with Stephen and gather the vassals so we might fight. We will need them here as we ride in the Between World.”

“We’ll be back,” Blake said as he slipped up beside them.

“Good, I must ride.” Guy nodded and stepped away as Rob—the king—signaled for the riders to mount, swung onto the huge black horse, barked a sharp order and the Hunt turned as one and followed him into the night.

Galen waited until the horses were gone, until the bond tying him to his brother was stretched to the point of breaking before he turned and walked away from the Great Altar, down the pathway towards the road.

It was dark, an enveloping dark, as Galen walked away from the bog and the lights of the fire and torches. The fog closed around him, muting sounds so the chanting and music of the ritual seemed further away than they actually were. Flash and Blake were walking behind him, whispering, but keeping their voices low, like people at a funeral, afraid sounds might make what was happening more of a reality. He had no idea how they were going to get back to the motel, no idea how to stop what was happening. The stretched quality of the bond, almost broken, was beginning to affect him, the loss starting to blur thought. That was probably part of the plan—not theirs, but whoever was working against them. He was so caught up in the swirling thoughts, in the increasing call of the Hunt he didn’t notice the music.

“Galen!” Flash nudged his shoulder. “Your phone’s ringing.”

“What?” Galen dug in his pocket and pulled out the phone. “Hello?”

“Where the hell are you?” Rhiannon demanded.

“I’m fine, how are you?” Galen replied.

“Galen, not funny, where are you?”

“Long Beach, Washington.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m parked beside your car, and you aren’t in your room, Flash’s car is here. Where are you?”

“Walking up the highway, about five miles out of town,” Galen said.

“How do I find you?”

Galen told her and broke the connection. “Rhiannon’s on her way,” he told Flash and Blake when they gave him a funny look. “Knowing her, it shouldn’t be long.”

“What are we going to do?” Flash blurted out, from the look on his face, Galen could tell his friend had been holding the question in as long as he could.

“We’re going to stop this, get rid of the
feorhbealu
and get Rob back,” Galen said firmly, willing himself to believe it.

“Just like that?” Blake asked, amusement rippling through his voice.

“Yes,” Galen snapped, turning on him. “Just like that, and you’re going to help. The
feorhbealu
will probably try and destroy the Hunt first, so your promise to Guy will be broken if you don’t.”

“Back to ordering me?”

“Yes,” Galen said softly, letting the threat hang between them. He met Blake’s eyes and saw something flicker there for an instant. Now that he was more familiar with him, Galen was able to sort through the emotions and energy flowing off the Fae like a breeze shifting through the branches. It wasn’t much, the softest touch of wind, but it was there, evident now that he knew what it was—Blake was far less sure than he’d been and his confidence was continuing to slip.

“But how, Galen? Did you notice that Rob’s off playing horsies?” Flash asked forlornly.

“Yeah.” Galen was surprised at the emotion in his voice.

“We’ll fix it,” Flash said, putting his hand on Galen’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze.