Wyvern and Company (24 page)

I call him grz-gitch. He laugh.

She missing. I try following with mind talent. I know if she
in danger. Vampire act stupid. He need to fix.

* * *

Adam's Journal

At least the fire was out in Fresno, but Randall Pierce had
broken out of jail—with help, according to the news, and was now on the run. I
wondered how many other fires he planned to set before he was captured again.

His father was also missing. Probably in on planning the
escape, since he had intimate knowledge of the county jail, both in and out of
it. Still, we had no hits on Kiarra.

That's where Glendes Grey found me—searching for clues on my
wife's location at Merrill's brownstone in New York. Glendes is ancient and
looks thirty. Griffin and the Larentii are the only ones I know who are older.

His son, Raffian, looks very much like him, too, with dark
hair and strong features. Although Glendes is married, Raffian could attract
almost any woman, if he weren't so impatient with nearly everyone.

Raffian is also considered Grey House's best K'Shoufa jewelry
designer. I figured the Tiralian crystal cufflinks that Glendes delivered to me
had been designed by Raffian—they were beautiful.

And spelled.

"These are for the ones whose names are marked on the
boxes," Glendes handed more boxes to me.

Kiarra's name was on one, and it contained a pair of earrings.
Another box had Justin's name written on it, with a wristwatch inside. Spelled
Grey House jewels decorated the band.

Mack's watch matched Justin's.

Merrill, surprisingly, also had a box. I handed it to him. A
ring lay inside—a spelled ring in gold and platinum, with the traditional dark-gray
jewel set in it. At that point, I was sorry I'd asked for cufflinks—the ring
could be worn anytime, while the cufflinks could only be worn with my nicest
dress shirts.

Merrill, understandably, placed the ring on a finger
immediately—on his left hand. I wasn't sure that was the way it was meant, but
he was taking it as such. I wasn't surprised that the ring fit—another spell
placed upon it to do just that, and it would only fit and protect the
designated owner.

As would the other items. I nodded to Glendes, who, having the
talent to do so, folded away quickly. "Don't take these watches off,"
I instructed as I handed the proper ones to Justin and Mack. "They're
built to protect you. I hope we won't need that protection, but you never know.
I imagine it will accommodate your change to wolf," I added as I watched
Mack place it on his wrist.

"It's really spelled?" Mack blinked at me curiously.

"By the best wizards anywhere," I agreed. "What's
on your wrist would cost anyone else a fortune."

"Can somebody steal it?" Justin asked as he admired
the timepiece on his wrist.

"It won't allow it," I said. "I figure any
would-be thief will get a nasty surprise if he makes the attempt."

"Too bad we can't get the earrings to Mom, then,"
Justin tapped her box. "I'd feel better if she had these right now."

"Adam, I'm getting mindspeech from Lion," Dragon
interrupted.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A small town in Arizona was just attacked by spawn. Everyone
there is either dead or missing. We have to go."

I cursed.

Chapter 13
 

Justin's Journal

Coppertown, Arizona is tiny. Not even a speck on most maps.
Dragon shielded us as we watched emergency workers move through the short, main
street of town, attempting to identify remains.

Mack shook his head and barely muffled an angry growl. His
scenting ability was quite keen—much better than what it had been before the
wolf manifested. He smelled spawn and death everywhere. If he were wolf, his
hackles would be raised and his ears laid back.

I touched the new wristwatch I wore, stroking the dark jewels
lining the band. Merrill, his new ring unfamiliar on his finger, did almost the
same thing as he surveyed the blood, gore and mess left behind by ravaging
spawn.

"Had to be at least a hundred, to leave this kind of
destruction behind in such a short period of time," Dragon mumbled.

It had been a short period of time. A cell-phone conversation
with a resident had been cut off and less than five minutes later, the carnage
was discovered by a delivery driver.

"They blew through here like a tornado," Dad
growled. He was angry that this was taking us away from our search for Mom.
Joey stayed behind in New York and was joined there by Uncle Bearcat, who
offered to help while we took care of spawn.

If we could find them
.

Police and National Guard helicopters were flying over the
desert surrounding Coppertown, but the spawn had disappeared like rabbits down
a hole.

Only there wasn't any hole. Not that was obvious, anyway.
Uncle Dragon couldn't get a fix on them, either, and that was strange. I'd
thought my inability to see them by
Looking
in Florida may have been my
newness with the talent, but the fact that mindspeech had been held behind a
barrier there was still unexplained.

That was coming back to haunt us, now.

"Ten people are missing and likely turning to spawn while
we stand here talking about it," Dragon's voice rumbled as he grimaced at
the grisly scene before us. "Whatever prevents us from tracking them has
moved far enough from this area that my
Looking
skills are currently
accurate through the town."

"We are still crippled by Thorsten's command," Dad
huffed. "That means Merrill and the others will be forced to place their
lives on the line again if we can get a position on this horde."

"I would like to bring my brother in," Dragon
sighed. "He is almost as skilled as I with his blades. Spawn will be sorry
if they attack him."

"I wasn't aware you had a brother," Dad said.

What he wasn't saying was that at Dragon's age, his brother
should have died long ago.

"It was part of the deal offered to me to join the Saa
Thalarr," Dragon replied, his face falling into the familiar scowl. "My
twin brother would be given immortality if I agreed to fight with the Saa
Thalarr. At the time I joined, the mortality rate among our current race was
much higher, you understand. Crane was suffering from a terminal disease. I did
this for him—and for me."

"Identical twins?" Merrill queried.

"Yes. Except in our tattoos. Crane's tats are of cranes,
naturally. I became Warlord. He was my General on Falchan."

"Cool," Mack breathed beside me, his anger at spawn
forgotten for a moment. His hero-worship of Dragon just ramped up several
notches.

"You may be risking his life," Merrill pointed out.

"I know. What else can I do? My hands—and the hands of
every other Saa Thalarr—are tied at the moment. We must use what we have to
destroy this threat."

"I understand what might happen if you disobey a direct
order," Merrill shook his head. "Expulsion from the Saa Thalarr and
the removal of your power and immortality is a terrifying prospect."

"That is why we must do what we can behind the scenes,"
Dragon nodded. "We were never told we couldn't provide support to those
doing the actual fighting."

"Then let's go to Fresno," Dad said, his shoulders
sagging. "Joey promised to keep me updated on the search for Kiarra, but
he can search just as well from Fresno as he can from New York. We need the
vampires when they wake to help track these spawn. They're trained to do
research while hunting a target. We'll put them to work."

* * *

Dad called our new friends at the FBI, too. They had vampires
and werewolves on the payroll, and had even better informational resources than
we did. They were now looking for Mom and the missing spawn. I asked Dad
afterward why we couldn't find Mom by
Looking
.

"She's an unreadable," he explained. "Those are
so rare they almost don't exist. It's good for her—and bad for us. We can't
find her by
Looking
. Neither can the enemy, but without the power she
normally has, if they find her using traditional means, then she's more than
vulnerable. If they take her, they'll either kill her or demand a ransom of
some sort. Who knows what they might ask in exchange?"

I'd been scared before by Mom's disappearance. This terrified
me. "Will they let her die?" I quavered. Mack, who'd been listening
in, went completely still and his face went pale. After all, we'd both heard
the phrase
we don't negotiate with terrorists
. Wouldn't this be the same
thing?

"Son, let's concentrate on finding her, all right? We
have the best we can get working on that right now, including the FBI
Paranormal Division. We have to focus on the spawn that are now attacking
entire towns."

"She has to be all right," Mack mumbled, stuffing
his hands in his pockets in an uncomfortable gesture. "Dad says I have to
go on the Pack run tomorrow night. I'd rather stay here and help Joey."

"Son, you won't be able to stop the change—it's in your
blood," Dad dropped a hand on Mack's shoulder. "We're all worried
about Kiarra, but none of this is your fault. It's mine. We'll find her. We
have to."

A weariness came over Dad and lines appeared around his mouth
that I'd never seen before. This was taking a greater toll on him than I
thought and I was only beginning to realize what the stakes were in all this.
Yes, Mack and I had a narrow escape with spawn and three kapiri, but this one
thing could bring all of us down.

* * *

"Perhaps you should have left her power intact."
Nefrigar studied Pheligar, who'd uncharacteristically
Pulled
in a chair
to sit while they spoke. He didn't mention that Pheligar's blue skin was tinged
with gray, or that worry clouded normally bright-blue eyes.

"I see that now. At the time, I imagined it to be the
prudent thing to do. I had no idea she would choose to disappear like this. I
had to deliver Wolf to her new assignment on Grelx, else I might have been more
aware of the situation."

"Have you attempted bending time?"

"Yes. I encountered a maelstrom when I did."

"The time is in flux, then, intersecting with imaginary time
in another juncture of the multiverse."

"Imaginary time," Pheligar huffed angrily. "There
is nothing imaginary about it. Why would it be named thus, when it can result
in a chance intersection of one timeline with another, at which the same events
occur in both timelines at the same moment, at an extremely critical point?"

"You know that in some exceptionally unusual
circumstances, the timelines can spin away in different directions as a result?"

"I have read the books and studied the phenomenon,"
Pheligar grumbled. "It does me no good, as there is no way I can prevent
any of this, and, as Kiarra is unreadable, I cannot find her."

"Have you attempted mindspeech?"

"You think she will listen to me?" Pheligar seldom
employed sarcasm, but he did so now, tapping his chest and shaking his head at
Nefrigar.

"Any attempt is worth the effort to get her back,"
Nefrigar replied, turning back to the ancient book he'd been repairing with
power when Pheligar appeared. A fragile page, ravaged by time and almost eaten
away, became whole in his hand. Carefully placing it atop the other pages he'd
already repaired, he turned to the next page in the text.

"You are correct, of course," Pheligar admitted with
a weary sigh. "I should have listened to your advice early on, when you
said to remove the mute on our M'Fiyah. She has two muted M'Fiyahs upon her,
and that cannot be a good thing. Do you suppose that lent to her confusion now?"

"It will not help it in any way," Nefrigar responded,
making another page whole with power. The parchment rustled softly as he
smoothed it in place atop the other repaired pages.

"You already know that her life would have been better
had you not muted your M'Fiyah with her," he continued. "You likely
realize that Kiarra's M'Fiyah with the King Vampire, had it not been muted,
might have kept her from running away. She could have relied on his strength
and his desire to comfort and console. That is a beneficial aspect of multiple
mates that is often overlooked."

"I understand that—if you recall, we did research on that
subject centuries ago."

"I remember. All I can tell you is this—it is imperative
that she be found. If she is lost, many events will rupture and the future may
be lost."

"You do not reassure me, brother." Pheligar turned
his head.

"I cannot—too many things have become critical, and this
may be at the center of it. If she dies, your child will not be the same. It
matters not that you carry the complete and healthy embryo in your body. A
mother can have a great deal of influence on a Larentii child, even if he does
not carry her genes or DNA. It is usually the reason Larentii young name
themselves after their mothers, ever since the rift."

"I know. Most Larentii do not remember the times before
the rift, when female Larentii numbers were much the same as the males."

"Ferrigar's fault," Nefrigar repaired another page. "And
yes, brother, I know not to speak that aloud outside the archives. Somewhere
inside him, he knows he erred, but he may never admit it. His second mistake
was making the race forget the times before. I recall them perfectly, as I am
archivist and the Archives are protected against any power that might tamper
with history. Nevertheless, Ferrigar ordered those records sealed and none may
read them now. The Wise Ones, you and I may be the only ones, besides Ferrigar,
who know the truth."

"The Vhirilaszh knows," Pheligar whispered.

"And he disappeared long ago. None have seen Kalenegar
for millennia, and even the Wise Ones cannot find him, as he is also an
unreadable."

"I worry that he may have separated his particles,
leaving us without that added level of protection."

"I believe he still is," Nefrigar repaired the back
cover of the book and closed it carefully with a sigh. "That, of course,
cannot be proven, no matter how much I'd like to try."

"The Vhirilaszh is neither here nor there, as humans
often say," Pheligar pointed out. "We must find Kiarra before the
enemy does. Everything hinges on that."

* * *

Adam's Journal

Lion and Marlianna cooked breakfast for us the following
morning—we'd snacked the night before while we studied and pondered the problem
of disappearing spawn and a missing member of our family.

Hardly any of us slept. Karzac looked like a thundercloud and
snapped at any adult in the house, with the exception of Mack, Justin, Darzi
and Marlianna. We'd heard from Pheligar, early on, warning us not to attempt to
bend time in our search for Kiarra. It was one of those instances when we could
lose ourselves in an inescapable vortex.

I had no idea what that meant, but knew enough to heed the
warning. I was too worried that Thorsten might become aware of the situation
and order us to cease our search for Kiarra, writing her off as a lost cause.

Could he—would he—do that to the First among us?

In my few direct dealings with him, I came away with the
feeling that he had no care what happened to any of us, and was prepared to
find a replacement if any of us fell. Only Kiarra had worried about that—more
than anyone else, at least.

With Pheligar's input and Dragon's and Lion's help for the
past fourteen thousand plus years, she'd managed to keep the tiny race of Saa
Thalarr intact, and that included Griffin, who'd never appeared to care whether
any of his charges fell while he served as First.

Worlds had been lost when Saa Thalarr died. Kiarra had never
lost one, and had saved many considered
Not Worth Saving
, including
Earth twenty years past.

They all owed her a debt—those many worlds attacked by the Ra'Ak.
Countless souls had been saved by her perseverance and the tireless support she
offered her charges. Those in her care included me, as well as the others.

Only the feeble-minded would fail to see that she'd stopped
rescuing worlds classified as
Not Worth Saving
since the birth of our
son. For those, she'd risked her life more than she normally might. I imagined
that she had no desire to leave Justin without his mother while he was young.
Now that he was grown or nearly so, she was pregnant again. Once more, I
wondered at the timing of everything.

"Adam?" Dragon's voice broke into my thoughts.

"What?" I turned sharply in his direction.

"Another small town has been hit—this time in Arkansas,"
he said.

* * *

Kiarra's Notes

A television was on and breaking news was announced when I
stopped for a late lunch in Nashville. I'd loaded the car with snacks, juice
and water before leaving Columbus behind, so I wouldn't be hungry and begin to
feel sick while driving.

The small truck stop had a diner and I could fill the gas tank
while I was there. Instead of eating my grilled cheese sandwich at first,
however, I stared at the carnage depicted on the screen above the counter.