Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
EZRA
Dressed in his gear, Ezra and Raum returned to the SUV, getting inquisitive glances from Harlan and Chase, but neither said anything about his attire. They got back into their seats, buckled in, and Lilith jumped into his lap the second he was ready.
She merped at him, nosing and sniffing at his corset, likely wondering why he didn’t bring her gear with him. They weren’t going to be scrambling through an abandoned mansion or ruins, so she didn’t need her gear—he would be leaving her with the sergeants, hopefully at a safe distance.
Though there might not be a safe distance.
And as long as they didn’t blow themselves up trying to stop the skull.
He really needed to stop thinking of worst-case scenarios.
The drive to the MERS base was quick, traffic minimal, and they were waved into the base past security with alacrity.
The SUV stopped in front of the hangar holding the reliquary, and they piled out.
Ezra carried Lilith and went to Major Grendel, who was standing by the doors of the hangar, hands on her hips, a fierce expression on her face.
“Do I need to evacuate the base?” Grendel asked as soon as he was close enough.
“I have no idea,” Ezra said honestly. “It’s a strong maybe? This could go badly.”
Ezra turned to the others—Raum, Saemund, Harlan, and Chase. “This might end up with us dying in an explosion or a massive blizzard. It’s okay to change your mind and leave.”
The sergeants looked at each other and then back at him, neither saying a word, shoulders and jaws set, determination etched on their faces. Saemund merely gave him a patient smile, and Raum took the hand that wasn’t holding Lilith and squeezed it firmly. “We’re with you.”
“Okay,” Ezra breathed out. “We can do this.”
“Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast. There’s been chatter in the higher-ups of the wrong people being interested in what happened out in the woods, and other agencies asking after rumors of a magical weapon in MERS custody,” Grendel stated, and a sinking sensation filled his belly.
She caught the dismay on his face and nodded grimly.
“You either pull this off now, or we’ll be fighting off foreign nations and other agencies for access to the skull before too long. ”
“On it,” Ezra said, and he handed Lilith to Chase, who took her with a smile and a gentle stroke to her head.
“I’ll guard her with my life.”
“Hopefully everything will go smoothly and we don’t need to worry about anything,” Ezra replied.
He hoped he didn’t just jinx them.
The major must have had the same thought, as Grendel groaned and rolled her eyes at him, and then pulled out her phone and made a call.
“Evacuate all non-essential faculty and staff, and everyone else is to get under cover immediately,” she said into the phone before hanging up. “Redmayne, you have one shot at this before I shut you down and have this damn thing buried in a mine shaft a mile underground.”
“I can anchor the death magics in the earth again like I did last time if things get out of control.”
“That left you dead on your feet,” she reminded him. “And it was a week ago. Can you do it again?”
He was sufficiently recovered from burnout—he hoped—and he could access the veil for additional resources if he needed more power.
What worried him was that he hadn’t tested his stamina and he needed that to be back to normal, or he wouldn’t have the strength to manage the veil. It took power to wield power.
And if he wasn’t careful, the raw power of the veil would burn him out from the inside with one wrong move.
Raum
Ezra moved like he knew what he was doing—shoulders back, eyes bright, and movements easy, his stride open and energetic.
His aura was much the same, colors bright and clear, full of confidence.
There was anxiety and some fear, but Raum was heartened to see it, as it meant Ezra was cautious and would be careful.
Saemund and Raum followed Ezra into the hangar. Raum saw the reliquary instantly, and a shiver went down his spine. He felt nothing from it—the reliquary was doing its job and keeping the skull and its powers from leaking out into the wider world.
The sergeants and Major Grendel stopped by the doors, and aligned themselves along the wall, leaving Raum and Saemund to follow Ezra to the reliquary. Their footsteps echoed in the large space.
They all stopped a few feet away from the reliquary, and while Raum felt nothing, the air seemed oppressive, colder somehow. Maybe it was just the large metal building they were in, and his imagination was running wild.
“Can you see anything?” Raum asked his grandfather. Saemund was staring at the large container, the bronze fittings and polished marble ostentatious and at odds with the spartan hangar.
“I can,” Saemund answered him, hands in his pockets, eyes mournful. “It’s a terrible thing to see.”
“I see and feel nothing,” Raum said, a mix of disappointment and gladness. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see the skull within. A living soul trapped in a deceased body—not even a body, a single body part—had to be hell. Even for a goddess.
“If you can’t see the skull you can’t connect to it,” Ezra said, looking at Raum and Saemund. “How do you connect to each other? Do you meditate?”
“Not as humans do, but we can enter a trance and see within ourselves as well as without, to see the layers of this world,” Saemund replied.
“As I said earlier, it’s useful when teaching our young how to utilize their abilities, or when establishing a mate bond as adults, things like that.
I can connect to you, too, if you let down your mental shields.
It is deeply intimate, so be prepared for that. ”
“You can connect to Raum, and let him see the skull through your senses?” Ezra asked. “You may not need me to connect to you at all if you and Raum can do this.”
“I should be able to,” Saemund replied. “Making a connection is easy. What would you have us do?”
Ezra looked at the reliquary then at Raum and Saemund.
“I can’t open the reliquary without triggering the storm, and neither Raum nor I can connect to it while it’s in the reliquary.
We need you, Saemund, to connect to the skull, let Raum make contact through you, and then see if Raum can convince her to fade.
Bring me into the connection if there’s trouble. ”
“All without opening it,” Raum was making sure.
Ezra nodded. “Without opening it.”
“Raum, I’ll show you what to do as we go since you haven’t done a mind connection before,” Saemund sighed. “And I need a chair. I’m not sitting on the cold floor.”
Ezra
Metal folding chairs were procured and set up by the reliquary. All three of them sat in a triangle facing each other, close enough their knees could touch. Raum and Saemund both looked to Ezra, who drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, releasing tension in his frame.
“Ready?”
Saemund nodded and closed his eyes. Hands on his knees, frame relaxed, Saemund’s face went blank as if he were sleeping, his breathing slow and steady. Raum gave it a moment, and then copied his grandfather.
It was a bit disconcerting—there was nothing to see with his inner vision—Raum and Saemund were making a connection, and hopefully they would be able to then connect to the skull through the reliquary.
The hangar was quiet. The air was chilly in the huge space, despite the strength of the summer sun outside.
Major Grendel and the sergeants waited by the door, all of them watching the three of them sitting there, outwardly doing nothing.
Lilith watched him, too, her tail flicking, but content to remain in Chase’s arms for now.
Saemund sighed, returning Ezra’s attention to the High Court Sidhe. “We’ve made contact.” Saemund spoke quietly, evenly, as if his concentration was engrossed in something else entirely.
“She’s waking up,” Raum said, low and intense. “Her emotions are powerful.”
“Can you speak to her?” Ezra asked, not wanting to jar either of them from the connections they’d made.
“She is aware—” Saemund gasped and his whole body arched, head thrown back. A strong hand reached out and grabbed Ezra’s wrist, and he gasped at the tight grip, Saemund’s fingers like iron.
“The fuck!” Ezra tried to pry Saemund’s hand off him, but it was impossible. It hurt, but was manageable, and Ezra struggled to calm himself, not wanting to panic. Panic made scary situations worse.
“Redmayne?” Grendel called out.
“Stay back! Do nothing!” Ezra yelled, afraid of what might happen to Saemund or Raum if the MERS soldiers got involved.
Saemund’s eyes opened, and Ezra froze. Wide and fathomless, Saemund’s eyes glowed with brilliant blue fire, energy crackling around him.
“Death mage,” Saemund's lips moved but it wasn’t his voice—this was raspy, deep, but with a feminine tone.
Saemund wasn’t in control anymore.
“Morana,” Ezra gasped out, right before a surge of intense blue energy swelled out from Saemund and Raum, crashing over Ezra like a wave.
Drowning in power was akin to drowning in water—icy cold, seeping into every nook and cranny, filling his lungs and burning with every aborted breath.
“Death mage,” came the voice of a dying goddess, cracked and discordant.
He was no longer alone in his head. Intense pressure, pain, and a cacophony of foreign thoughts exploded behind his eyes, and he realized that Raum and Saemund were up against a mind that was expansive, without borders, and Ezra had made a horrible mistake.
He’d touched the mind of a goddess before—Hecate’s, the day he learned how to heal a mortal illness years before with Lilith. Then, Hecate was careful with him, he realized that now—She had been comfort, control, and patience.
Morana was desperation, fear, and anger.
And he’d asked two men with no previous experience to wake a dormant goddess and tell her she was dying.
He was a fool, and he hoped he wasn’t going to get them killed.