Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
L ila tore down the stairs to the dungeon, stumbling in her haste. After the blast Farras delivered, she half-expected Rafe to be sprawled at the bottom, but there was no one in sight. Was he unhurt, or had someone dragged him away? Jumping down the last few steps, she knelt and examined the tile. There was a smear of blood, but not much. That was something, at least.
Anxiety clawed her. She’d knocked Farras out, but he wouldn’t remain unconscious for long. And when he woke, he’d show no mercy. She didn’t have long to act.
She rose to her feet, wondering again where Rafe had gone. The house’s magic would have made it next to impossible for him to return upstairs. Captive or free, he was most likely still on this level.
Lila followed her usual route through the dungeon, watching the shadows and moving as quickly as she dared. The place was as bleak as ever. The widely spaced lights showed nothing but tile floor and featureless paint, without even a cobweb to give the place personality.
Still, her fae senses caught a shift in energies. It was as hard to describe as the shape of a thought or the movement of song through air, but it was perceptible. The way station felt restless, folding and reforming in subtle ways. When she stopped at Rafe’s old cell, ambient magic was all but absent. The room was empty, and the building knew it. Lila moved on.
The next cell she stopped at was the one where she’d seen packing crates stacked against the wall. At the time, she hadn’t had a reason to or time to investigate them. But now, after what Farras had told her about the drugs, she was curious enough to have a second look. She opened the door, using her fob and key code, and the overhead light came on as usual. The cell was empty and scrupulously clean, as if an army of pixies had gone over it with toothbrushes.
Frustrated, Lila left and pulled the door shut. The absence of evidence proved nothing, but it stoked her suspicions. Even if Ademar, Farras, and her mother claimed to know nothing about the Magician’s presence at the way station, the wolves had tracked him there. It seemed too convenient that the crates disappeared the moment she’d asked questions. Then again, they might have held food for the banquet or rolls of duct tape for all she knew. She’d been too slow to investigate, and now she’d lost her chance.
Cursing, Lila pressed on. The confusion spell in this part of the dungeon had weakened, at least for her. She’d been down those corridors too often now for misdirection to work. She continued to check the cells as she went, looking for Rafe and also for Teegar. She found no one and nothing.
She stopped at the last door, frustrated. There might still be a chance to find outside help, but the window of opportunity was closing. Where were the prisoners? Where was Rafe? They had to be hidden behind the shifting veil of the way station’s power.
Half-wild with frustration, Lila reached out, touching the living consciousness of the structure. Farras had summoned the place out of the surrounding forest, exactly the same way she shaped wood in her construction designs. The lord was far older than she was, his magic stronger and more sophisticated, but their power was similar enough that she understood every twist in the spell’s weave. She hoped that was enough to get the building’s cooperation. You’re made of magic. My kind of magic. Help me out.
Her awareness bumped against a fold of energy, thicker and twice as opaque as the rest. It was keeping her—and anyone else—from freely wandering past the door where she stood. Even so, she sensed her brother had been there recently. Maybe only minutes ago.
Lila deepened her contact with the flow of power. The sensation of pins and needles swept over her skin, then beneath it, reaching deep into her bones. With as much delicacy as her impatience allowed, she pushed against the magic’s flow, making herself a path.
A hallway appeared before her—one that hadn’t been there a moment ago. It looked the same as the others, with bad lighting and steel doors. This time, though, she could feel life. She’d found prisoners. I don’t have much time.
An image rose in her mind, but it was of the graves in the woods. Confused, Lila touched one door, then the next in hopes of something more. Something that would make the vision make sense. The third door stopped her in her tracks. The specifics of the image faded, replaced by the sensation of fur under her hands and cold wind in her face. Then it was her paws padding on the forest floor, her voice lifted in chorus with the pack.
Lila staggered back, shaking her head to clear it. Her perception swirled, jumbling realities for a giddy moment until she was sure what was here and now and what was other. By Titania’s wingtips, she’d found more of Rafe’s pack.
She pulled her necklace from beneath her shirt. The electronic fob for the cells still dangled from the long chain. She swiped the fob and punched the code into the keypad, praying this door used the same number sequence she knew.
When the metal panel slid open and she peered inside, she saw the room was full—not of men, but of beasts huddled together on the floor. She’d heard shifters changed to their animal forms to heal, and it made sense their bodies would try to throw off the spell. Unfortunately, this wasn’t an injury that their natural magic could cure.
There were too many furry backs to be sure of the number. Five? Eight? Gray and brown, black and white, they were all huge, even lying down. Every wolf was deeply asleep with a stillness that suggested they were under the same type of sleeping spell Ademar had used.
Lila pushed the button that unlocked the cell door, wincing at the mechanism’s loud clank. The sleeping wolves didn’t stir as she stepped inside. The floor was full of paws and tails and she was forced to tiptoe around the edge of the pile. Werewolves were larger than their animal cousins, though they shared the same lean, long-legged grace. Closer examination revealed six individuals, all breathing. Rafe would be overjoyed to know at least some of his missing kin still lived.
If only he were here. With some effort, she could break the spell, but she was fae. She was one of the enemy who had trapped them, not to mention selling poison to their young. They could tear her to shreds in an instant if she didn’t handle this just right. Memories of Ademar’s injury flooded back in vivid shades of red.
It was possible to wake sleepers by administering a sudden shock, usually pain combined with a sundering of the magic that bound them, but that was as likely to kill as cure. For one thing, the spell’s victims were usually weak from thirst and hunger. Even against a ticking clock, she wouldn’t put them through more distress. Not even if her method held a degree of personal risk.
She found the wolf who was the oldest, judging by his gray muzzle, and sat cross-legged on the floor beside him. Hopefully, age meant he was a leader who could help with the rest. She pulled his head into her lap and began stroking his fur, all the while searching for the spark of his consciousness. As expected, it was sunk deep in the spell’s void—just a pinprick slowly drifting toward oblivion. Lila’s throat ached with grief, making her swallow hard. There was a wanton cruelty to simply switching off another being and letting it waste away like a forgotten toy. The dead wolves most likely died of starvation, and that was nothing short of evil.
She murmured soothing nonsense, running her fingers through the wolf’s thick fur. Touch belonged to the here and now, where she wanted him to be. At the same time, she sent a thin thread of healing toward the spark in the void. It was important not to overwhelm that ember, but to coax it back to the surface one sip of energy at a time.
Her vision softened as she worked, her gaze fixed on the contrast of thick brindled fur against the hard, featureless floor. The repetitive movement of her hands, petting and soothing, relaxed her as much as her patient. The spark caught and flared, drawing in her healing power. She gave the wolf enough to survive, enough so that he could hunt for himself. The yellow eyes opened and with a thrash, he struggled free of her embrace and got to his feet.
Lila stared up at the creature. A wolf shifter was as much wolf as human, and vice versa. She could see both forms of intelligence in his gaze. She could also see very large teeth as he lifted his lips in a growl. She strained to keep her panic in check.
“Hello,” she began. “My name is Lila. I’m a friend of Rafe’s.”
The wolf kept growling, though the sound grew fainter. He was giving her a chance, but not a big one. She thought of all the things she wanted to say—explanations, instructions, apologies on behalf of fae kind—but discarded them all. Whatever she had to say, the wolf deserved more .
“If you promise not to bite me, I’ll wake your friends.”
Rafe swore under his breath, a sense of dread sinking like a rock inside his chest.
The last thing Ademar did before vanishing into the guts of the dungeon was unlock a door to the outside so that Teegar could escape. It was up a short flight of stairs and opened almost directly into the forest. Given that this place had a hidden prison and secret passages, it made perfect sense that it would also have an emergency escape route. The way station’s creator had a seriously paranoid turn of mind.
Still, escape route or not, Rafe experienced a truckload of reservations as he’d ushered Teegar through the door. Not only was the fae disoriented by the spell, he seemed more intent on running than carrying a message for Rafe. It would be just his luck if the last hope for rescue bolted like a scared bunny.
Rafe yearned to go, too, and lose himself in the sweet-scented forest. But Lila was here, in need of protection. Once outside, he wouldn’t find an easy way to get back in. He didn’t have her talent with fae locks and hidden passages.
Instead, he retraced his steps through the dungeon. He steeled himself, pushing down a tsunami of thoughts and feelings. It was time to refocus. He’d carried out the mission he and Lila had started. Now he would find her and keep her safe until help arrived. If Teegar failed, there was still a chance Izetta had survived to summon aid.
He’d been walking only a minute when he caught the scent of wolf. Imagination . False hope that I will see the pack again. But then … then he saw them rounding the corner in a river of loping fur. He heard the pant of their breath, the click of their nails on the hard floor. His uncle, Jasper. Rand. Alexi. Lars. He knew them all: co usins, friends, and allies gone missing in the hunt for the Magician. But they are here. Not all of them were lost.
They swarmed him, Uncle Jasper first, and then the others—jumping and nipping but silent as hunters had to be. They looked thin and ragged, but they were alive. Rafe buried his fists in their ruffs, felt their hot tongues washing away his grief. The urge to be with them in wolf form nearly buckled his knees, but none of them were safe. Not yet.
“This way.” He ran ahead, as swift as the beasts.
Jasper and Alexi flanked him and the rest streamed behind, as if they moved with one mind. In a way, they did. They were pack.
Rafe ran up the steps and opened the door to the forest again, waiting as his wolves hurtled past. They brushed against him with shoulder and tail, reminding him by touch and scent where he belonged. When the last went by, he moved one foot to follow, but something made him look back. Lila stood in the corridor, gazing up to where he stood at the top of the short flight of steps.
“I found the wolves and woke them,” she said. “I warned them about the perimeter. They know they should hide in the woods until we break the spell keeping them here.”
She woke them . His mouth went dry at the enormity of what she’d done. She’d saved lives. Probably saved the pack.
He had to say something, thank her, acknowledge it somehow, but the words wouldn’t come. “I found Teegar and freed him,” he blurted instead. “Your brother helped, believe it or not.”
“He did?” Her brow furrowed.
She didn’t sound certain. He didn’t blame her, given what he’d seen of Ademar. Then he remembered he had promised the fae to keep her safe. Rafe glanced back toward the wolves. Jasper stood at the edge of the trees, yellow eyes turned his way.
“You should go with them,” Lila said softly. “You’re free now.”
“I know. You set me free as well.”
But he let the door fall closed, cutting off his view of the woods. He looked down at Lila again. She stood tall but somehow dimmed, as if she’d spent all her magic waking his kin. The thought shook him all over again. This was no time to leave herself vulnerable. Surely she knew that?
“You belong with your pack,” she said. “You don’t have to stay.”
“You didn’t have to free them, but you did.”
“They were my responsibility.” She made a weary gesture. “I had to make it right. It was the least I could do.”
Generosity. Fair play. Accountability. He never expected any of those from a fae. Her gesture caught him between joy and the profoundest grief. She had an inner beauty invisible to her own people.
“Come with us,” he said. “You’d have a grateful pack to protect you.”
“I can’t.”
“What are you staying for?” His words sounded impatient. He hadn’t meant them that way.
“I’m not free until my own pack is healed.” She looked away. “That won’t happen until Farras is stopped. And the Magician.”
With an effort of will, Rafe set aside the yearning to be with the wolves. He’d come here to hunt the fae hurting his pack. Lila might have freed him, but he wasn’t free of his mission.
Rafe descended the steps, acutely aware of the shrinking space between them. The scent of the wolves was on her, mixing her natural sweetness with their wild musk. “Then I’m not free until you are. You saved my kin. Wolves don’t leave a debt unpaid.”
“There is no debt,” she said.
She would have said more, but he took her by the shoulders and drew her close, his lips finding hers. He didn’t want logic. He wanted her taste. He wanted to know her in ways that didn’t need words. Lila moaned into his mouth as he ran his hand down the curve of her spine.
The vibration of her voice ran through him, sending a thousand shocks to intimate places. He pushed her against the wall—another steel door, cold beneath his palms. The kiss went on, the heat between them mounting to an excruciating pressure. Something dark inside him chuckled. This fae was as feral at heart as any beast.
Then she froze, suddenly breaking the kiss. Rafe reined himself in with difficulty, expecting a lecture about timing and danger and how he should know better when there were madmen on the loose.
But when she looked up with wide gray eyes, that wasn’t what she said. “There’s someone in this cell. A fae.”
Rafe stepped back, giving her room. “Friend or foe?”
“I can’t tell. Not yet.” Lila examined the door and made a noise of frustration. “It’s got a different locking mechanism than the others.”
Rafe fished in his pocket and held up the key ring, holding the bundle by the large iron key he’d used to free Teegar. “Try this.”
The door looked the same as Teegar’s cell, and it was in the same corridor of the dungeon. It stood to reason this was where the special prisoners were kept. He hoped it also meant the security systems were the same, because he’d listened closely when Ademar had opened the captain’s cell.
Rafe took several tries to recreate the code. But, between that and a variety of keys, they eventually opened the door. The cell was pitch dark, but Rafe could hear the rub of fabric as someone shifted positions. This prisoner was not asleep.
“Wait,” he said, catching Lila’s arm.
Light bloomed above her palm, and she sent it floating along the cell’s ceiling. The illumination was weaker than the lights she’d made before, a sign of how much energy she’d used up. Even so, the figure hunched on the bed shielded his eyes with a strangled cry.
To Rafe’s eyes, the male fae looked like a jumble of bones and rags. Lila grabbed Rafe’s arm for support.
“Father?” she gasped.