Priestess Dreaming (An Otherworld Novel) (15 page)

I meandered over to peek in their cage. They were cute—as far as babies went. Astrid was bigger than the other two, of course. She wasn’t a sprite or leprechaun, but size notwithstanding, all babies looked about the same to me. They gurgled—or rather, one of them gurgled. It was Ukkonen. I knew because Iris had wrapped him in blue, while Maria was always wrapped in a violet blanket. Astrid was cloaked in green. Ukkonen blinked, his tiny arms waving around in some sort of attempt to communicate his thoughts, and then he hiccupped and closed his eyes. Within seconds he was back asleep. I stared at them for another moment, then—not knowing what else to do with them—went back to the tree.

As Menolly floated up to the ceiling—the levitation thing vampires had going on was pretty damned handy—Morio set up the ladder. Chase climbed halfway up, and I handed him ornaments and he passed them on to Menolly to hang near the top of the tree. We were about a third of the way through—we’d worked our way down to the center of the tree—when a crash startled me. The silver ball I had in my hand shattered as I whirled, sending it across the room in my surprise.

Maggie had tipped over her playpen and Delilah was nowhere in sight.

“Oh, hell! Delilah! Where are you?” Frantically, I scanned the room.

Maggie had managed to reach over the top just enough to get hold of the heavy wooden lamp pole next to her. Instead of sending the lamp to the ground, it was heavy enough that she’d used it to tip her playpen over on its side. She was walking better now, still wavering a bit, but she was on her way across the room toward Bruce and the babies. Bruce had jumped to his feet and was standing guard.

Delilah came running back in the room. She took in the situation with one glance and scooped Maggie up, righting the playpen with her other hand. She plopped our girl back inside, then dropped into the chair beside her.

“Damn, I just ran to the bathroom.”

“She’s strong.” I let out a sigh of relief. Nobody was hurt, including Maggie, but we had to be more careful. “I think we should ask the guys to build a better pen, one that’s taller and stronger. Maggie is big enough to want to go wandering around by herself, but she’s still a toddler. And she will be for a long time. We need to protect her from her curiosity.”

“She’s over her growth spurt for now, at least.” Delilah stroked Maggie’s head and ears. “I was reading the other day in the
Care and Feeding of Woodland Gargoyles
that Maggie’s about ready to go into a plateau phase for a while. Her next growth spurt will probably be in about five years. She’ll learn new words, and slowly get a clearer sight of what’s going on, but she won’t grow much between now and then. And then, we better be prepared for the equivalent of a five-year-old who has very sharp claws and who will be a solid fifty to sixty pounds by the time her next growth spurt is done.”

“Lovely. Well, we’ll deal with that when it comes. Can someone sweep up the ornament I broke?” I went back to hanging balls.

At that point, Nerissa swept in, bags in hand. Iris set to breast-feeding the babies—all three of them. She was acting as Astrid’s wet nurse since Sharah had had to go back to Otherworld. And damn, her breasts had grown huge. They’d always been nice but she could put me to shame easily now.

Fueled by more cookies and hot cocoa, and a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches and side dishes of olives and pickles, cherry tomatoes, and fruit salad, we worked on into the evening. By the time it was 11
P.M.
, the entire bottom floor was decorated and the men had hung lights and garland on all floors, including down in Menolly’s lair.

We cleared up the boxes and then gathered in the living room, Bruce and Iris joining us. Menolly was sitting on the floor and Nerissa was sitting behind her on the sofa, her legs flanking Menolly. I curled up with Smoky on the other end of the sofa, with Morio sprawled on the floor beside me. Across the room, Shade and Delilah snuggled in the oversized chair and Bruce and Iris sat cross-legged on the floor next to their babies. Chase sat in the rocking chair, slowly rocking Astrid. Vanzir and Hanna joined us, comfortably sharing the loveseat.

By the soft glow of the lights, Menolly started to sing. I remembered the song from Otherworld, from when we lived in Y’Elestrial. Every winter, the city-state would hold an official Winter Solstice ritual. Every Yule we would all gather by the shores of Lake Y’Leveshan, where the priestesses from the Coterie of the Moon Mother—my grove—would lead the massive ritual. We would reenact the rise of the Oak King, and the fall of the Holly King, and there would be singing and dancing and feasting—the city provided a massive feast.

As Menolly sang, I softly joined in, along with Delilah. Menolly’s voice was beautiful, but Delilah and I managed to keep on key, at least.

Do you feel the north wind blow,

Does the chill run through your blood,

Can you hear the Winter calling,

Would you answer if you could,

Does the ice groan as it shifts,

Do the snow banks drift so high,

The heart of Winter beckons,

As the Solstice, it draws nigh.

The Oak King rises softly,

The Holly draws his sword,

The brothers meet in battle,

Twins set to spill their blood,

For today the Holly falls,

And the Oak will take the crown,

Until the summer’s zenith,

When the Oak will tumble down.

As our voices faded away, the flames crackled and popped from the fireplace, and once again, I realized that—even though our father and mother were dead—we were a family, we were strong together, and our lives and traditions would live on. Menolly started up singing again, and as we joined in, the evening faded into night, and we pushed aside our worries for a while as we sought a little respite from our duties and cares.

*   *   *

I managed to greet the crack of dawn thanks to Tanne. He texted me at five thirty, and for once, I didn’t mind waking up to the
ding
of my phone. I kept it on the headboard shelf above me, because with Smoky on one side, and Morio on the other, it would have been too hard to crawl over either one in order to reach it. Blurry-eyed, I pulled it down and squinted, trying to read the text:

Found portal, I think. Check out the area behind the grove of trees in Yagur Park. But how did the pixies get downtown Seattle, if it’s over on the Eastside? Something to think about.

Yagur Park? Tanne was right, that was across Lake Washington, over on the Eastside. But pixies could fly and travel in the blink of an eye. They must have found out about the commotion in Seattle and decided to check it out.

Yagur Park was a secluded park in Kirkland, leading into Woodinville. It was more rural, and definitely not on a main thoroughfare. The only reason I knew where it was, was because Trillian and I’d taken a tour of the wineries in the area during the summer. On the way home, we saw a turnoff for the park and drove in to explore. It was a tangled patch of woods and walking trails, with a spacious meadow for picnicking. A small pond served as a swimming hole.

I frowned, leaning back on the pillow. Neither Smoky nor Morio had woken up. We had to take care of this before I left this afternoon.

The smell of musky dragon and fox surrounded me like a snuggly blanket. Their smooth, taut, bodies were warm beneath the coverings. Usually Trillian slept in Morio’s place, because Morio preferred sleeping in his fox form at the bottom of the bed. But with Trillian gone, it made me feel more secure to be flanked on both sides. The days of a luxurious king-size bed to myself were long gone, but when I thought about it, I didn’t really miss them. I would never be domesticated, but I enjoyed knowing they were there for me and I was there for them.

Pushing back the instinct to go back to sleep, I forced myself to sit up, pulling the comforter up to cover my breasts. My hair tickled my back as I poked first Smoky, then Morio, in the side.

“Wake up, sleepyheads. We’re needed.” It took me three times, but I finally managed to rouse them. While I waited for them to blink their way to consciousness, I had a quick peek under the covers. Oh yes, they were aroused all right—both firm and hard in their morning salutes. Hit by a sudden fit of giggles, I considered taking a few licks, but then decided that I wouldn’t start something I couldn’t finish. And, like it or not, Tanne’s text meant we needed to get out there and figure out what was going on.

A moment later, Morio dragged his ass to a sitting position, and Smoky followed suit. They were both cross-legged under the covers with me.

“Woman, why are you waking us up at this infernal hour?” Smoky was grumbly—he seldom got that way with me, but he liked his sleep.

“Because Tanne found the portal that Iris zapped out of the living room. Or at least, he thinks he did. And we’d better get over there and check it out. It’s in Yagur Park—on the Eastside.”

“Yeah, I guess we’d better.” Morio yawned, his goatee twitching as he stretched. “Okay, out of bed.”

I slipped out of bed and wandered over to the window. In the darkness of the winter morning, both Smoky and Morio cut fine figures, honed, chiseled muscles . . . and yet, they had their scars from battles past. They weren’t perfect, which suited me fine. Perfection was an illusion—a myth.

“I think a shower is in order.” Smoky pushed me toward the door. “Go. I’ll take one downstairs. Morio, you share with Camille this morning. But no play. Camille is right, we don’t have time. There are far deadlier foes in the Northlands than you can imagine—ones that make those we’ve already fought off look like playful kittens.”

I shuddered. “I don’t doubt it.”

Smoky pressed his lips together for a moment, then, with a slow sigh, shrugged on a bathrobe. “Camille, be cautious. This wyrm . . . he is dangerous.”

“I know.”

Shaking his head, he caught me by the shoulders, a worried look in his eye. “No, you
don’t
know. You don’t realize just how dreadful these creatures are. The ancient wyrms are chaotic and rapacious. They will not be denied. They have no sense of right or wrong, they act solely on whim. They are far more grasping than Hyto was.”

The seriousness of his tone nixed any good mood I had going for me. “I’ll remember,” I promised.

Hyto had left me scarred with nightmares, as well as a few physical marks that hadn’t faded away. There were lashes on my back that would never vanish, but thankfully I didn’t have to see them. If the wyrms were more dangerous than he was, we were in for one hell of a fight.

“Are they psycho like he was?”

Smoky shook his head. “Not in the way you think of it, but the ancient wyrms tend to be greedy beyond all human scope, and they have no consciences.”

Morio headed toward the door. “So get a move on. Lather up and rinse off. I’ll ask Hanna to wake Delilah when I go downstairs.”

“Ask her to contact Iris, too. I think we should take her with us, if she’s willing to go.” Since Iris had been the one to move the portal in the first place, she might be able to pick up on anything we should know.

As Morio and I hit the shower, the hot water massaging my back, I tried not to think about what might have already come through the portal. The possibilities were not the stuff warm, fuzzy feelings were made from. As I rinsed off and gave Morio a light kiss, I could only hope that the portal had remained unused since the pixies bolted through. But somehow, in the pit of my stomach, I had the feeling that wasn’t the case.

We were out the door half an hour later, Delilah, Shade, and Iris with us. Nobody was in a good mood being up so early. Well, Iris was used to it, but that didn’t mean she liked it any more than the rest of us. Hanna had quickly pulled together breakfast sandwiches for us to eat on the go—English muffins, sausage patties, and cheese. Along with peanut butter cookies, they were waiting for us when we trooped downstairs, dressed and ready to go.

“Thanks, Hanna. You’re wonderful.” I scooped up the brown paper bag full of food and we headed toward the door.

“Miss Menolly went to bed just a few minutes ago. Sunrise won’t be for another hour but she wanted to spend some time with Miss Nerissa—her workday starts early.” Hanna was already frying up bacon. A moment later, Chase appeared through the kitchen door. He and Nerissa had taken to carpooling into work together, except when one or the other had errands to do after work.

“I smell bacon,” he said. “You guys want me to go with you? Iris told me what you found out.”

“No, you go on to work with Nerissa. We’ll take care of this and let you know what we find out.” I walked over to Chase, placing my hand on his shoulder. “I have to leave before you get back. I’m taking Delilah and Morio with me. Help Smoky watch over all of them for us, would you?”

I had a feeling this journey was going to take me a long way into the mists, and even though I’d have my sister and Morio with me, a cloud had settled over my mood. The Merlin was unpredictable. Even when—
if
—we found him, there was no guarantee he’d agree to help us.

“I’ll watch over them. Everything will be all right, Camille. Trillian will be fine, too.” As if he were looking into my heart, rather than hearing my words, Chase pulled me close and gave me a hug. We’d started out at odds when we first met, but now we were good friends, and I was fond of the detective.

“Thanks, dude. Just take care of yourself and your daughter, too.”

“I hate to break this up, but we better get our butts to Yagur Park and see what we can find out.” Delilah leaned over my shoulder, grinning at Chase. “Have a good day, and tell Nerissa we said hi.”

Chase winked at her. “Aye, aye, Pussycat.” He and Delilah had been lovers for a while, but it hadn’t worked out. Now, they were just good friends.

We took two cars—Delilah’s Jeep and my Lexus. Smoky rode with Morio and me. Iris and Vanzir, who had opted to come instead of Shade, were with Delilah. Shade would stay with Hanna. Before we left, I texted Tanne to meet us at the park.

The morning commute was starting, but we were still early enough to miss the worst of it. Half an hour later and we’d be stuck in gridlock.

The Eastside—part of the Greater Seattle Metropolitan area—consisted of a number of cities ranging from thirty thousand to well over one hundred thousand people. All were on the east side of Lake Washington, and included Bellevue, Redmond, Kirkland, Issaquah, Mercer Island, Woodinville, and several other cities. Altogether, the GSMA—including Seattle—contained a population of over three and a half million people.

The land was rich and lush, thick with trees and moss and fern, with deep ravines leading into a tangle of detritus at their bottom. Streams, from full-blown whitewater rapids to trickling brooks ran through narrow channels everywhere. Seattle and its sister-cities were bordered to the east by the Cascade Mountain Range. High glacial peaks, the chain of mountains was still highly volcanic, and very much alive and awake. Old, deep magic inhabited the mountains, trickling down into the cities and infiltrating the woodlands and parks.

On the west, Seattle buttressed up against Puget Sound, a long, wide inlet of water coming in from the Pacific Ocean via the Strait of Juan de Fuca. A complex series of channels, the Sound was considered an estuary and had long ago been carved by the glaciers that covered the land. The same glaciers, during their retreat, had left large swaths of boulders in the mountains known as alluvial deposits. We’d encountered several in our adventures.

There were several ways to get over to Woodinville, and we opted to go around the northern tip of Lake Washington rather than drive all the way down to the 520 Floating Bridge. We eventually ended up on Woodinville Drive and then, on State Route 522, which took us right into Woodinville.

The town itself wasn’t very big, and we navigated through the downtown area, then out into the suburbs, which were much more rural. With the GPS directing me, we wound our way through the trees and neighborhoods, which were now sparser and interspersed with patches of undeveloped land.

172nd turned into 165th and we continued along the two-lane road, past thick swatches of woodland and what now appeared to be farmhouses. To the right, power lines ran along the road, and very little shoulder meant that if we had to pull off, we’d have to find a driveway or turnoff.

We finally reached the intersection of 165th and Avondale Road NE. I idled at the red light, grimacing as the traffic on the opposite—going south—began to build up. Rush hour, definitely. Thank gods we were going against it. Turning onto Avondale, we continued along, turning on several more streets, until we came to the sign for Yagur Park. We eased our way along the drive, which was hidden between large, sprawling homes that surrounded Cottage Lake. As we pulled into the parking lot, I noticed it was snowing lightly.

There were other parks around the lake, but this was the most secluded. Sixty-three acres in size, the lake was four miles east of Woodinville. Yagur Park was heavily wooded, with a play area for children, and a roped-off swimming site. As we stepped out of the car, I noticed another car nearby. It was a small Volkswagen. A moment later, Tanne opened the driver’s door and stepped out.

He gave me a quick salute. “I think it’s over there, beyond that stand of trees.” I shaded my eyes against the powdery snow and squinted at the stand of cedar and fir that were lining the lake. In truth, the snow looked heavier over in that direction. Considering that the portal had caused a snowstorm in our living room, it made sense that it was lowering the temperature and turning the morning drizzle into snowflakes.

“Let’s go.” Smoky swung into the lead, and Morio and I followed behind him. Iris came next, and Delilah and Vanzir brought up the rear. As we crossed the picnic area, a sense of desolation fell over me. Yagur Park wasn’t well known, and while it was maintained by the city, winter kept most parks in the Seattle area vacant and silent. Even when we didn’t have snow, the rain drove people indoors. As we neared the stand of trees, the snow grew more intense and the temperature began to drop.

“This is magical cold.” Smoky turned around. “I can feel the energy of the Northlands from here.”

Iris concurred. “He’s right. The portal must be through here. I’m just not sure what we’re going to do once we find it. I can move it again but that isn’t going to do us any good. However, maybe we’ll be able to figure something out that we couldn’t before. We were just in a hurry to get it out of the living room. Maybe we overlooked something.”

“I wonder if the Triple Threat can help. Aeval used to be the Winter Queen before the Courts split away from Summer and Winter. I can always ask her before we leave tonight.” I didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d be bringing Bran and Morgaine with her, or that I’d be stuck with them on my journey. Which brought me to another point. “Delilah, are you sure you want to go with me? Morio’s going, but there’s nothing that says you have to come.”

“Of course I am. I was there when Yannie Fin Diver attacked us. So, I’m sure as hell not about to let you traipse off with Morgaine and Bran without me along. I don’t trust either one of them farther than I can throw them. Especially not around you. Morgaine is jealous of your connection with Aeval, and Bran . . . well, he’s just a freak. And I don’t care who knows that I think so.” She shivered. “Geez, it feels like somebody turned down the heat.”

She was right. The temperature had dropped at least thirty degrees in the past three minutes that we’d been approaching the portal. It felt as though we’d stepped into a refrigerator. As we rounded the nearest cedar, Smoky stopped short and held out his hand. I peeked around him, and sure enough, there was the portal, between two trees, spewing out snow and cold. I didn’t see anything else in the general vicinity, but there was plenty of foliage behind which creatures could hide, so that didn’t necessarily mean squat. There could be anything hiding out, waiting to pounce.

Iris stepped forward, eyeing the polar vortex. This close up, we were icy cold, and the temperature was rapidly dropping. Iris had thought ahead and brought her long coat. I wish I’d been that smart. My own coat was warm enough, but for typical Seattle weather, not the lower extremes.

We stood guard while she examined the edges. Now that we weren’t frantic to get it out of the living room, we were able to take a closer look. After a moment she stood back. “I really wish we could figure out who created the scroll.”

“That’s it!” I swung around to face Vanzir. “Do you remember where the shop is?”

“Yeah, real hole in the wall.” Vanzir blinked, then shook his head. “No . . . you aren’t thinking seriously . . .”

“I
am
thinking seriously. But I doubt if the store is open yet. Iris, are you sure there’s nothing you can do?”

Tanne stepped forward. “Let me have a look. I’ve dealt with a number of portals and vortexes before.”

Iris stepped back as he moved in. Tanne was a spell singer. He was also from a long line of demon hunters—the Hunter’s Glen Clan—and he had a number of odd powers that I wanted to know more about. He knew old spells, from far back in ES Fae history. Spells that were rooted in the world around us.

He knelt by the edge of the portal and placed his hand on the energy flowing between the brilliant blue gates. The portal looked like a rip in the air, the borders of which were crackling blue—thin bands of the energy radiating outward. The threads formed a braided ellipse that was at least eight feet high and four feet wide. The center was misted over—a swirl of cold air pouring out from the foggy center. Somehow the snowfall was related to the portal, but I wasn’t sure how. If I were to pop my head through, I’d see another world. But I’d
been
in the Northlands and had no intention of peeking through there.

Tanne knelt down and put both his hands on the ground, directly in front of the portal. He began singing in a low voice, and I strained to catch the words, but it sounded like an ancient Germanic tongue. Energy built around him.

He inhaled slowly, exhaled even slower, keeping an even pace so the cadence of his song never changed. Mournful, it was, and haunting. I closed my eyes, trying to follow the thread of energy. It reminded me of a vine, tendrils creeping out from his voice. The words probed the energy of the portal, testing the edges, tapping them, looking for a place to burrow in.

I wanted to join Tanne, to lend my strength to his, and I could feel Morio itching to do the same. But our magic was different and we’d most likely be an interference rather than a help. So we stood vigil, watching the progression.

The tendrils of Tanne’s spell worked in a widdershins fashion—counterclockwise—around the vortex’s opening. Every few inches, the thread would stop, probe, then move on. I could see it clearly now. Anyone who worked magic couldn’t possibly miss it as Tanne’s focus strengthened.

And then, he found whatever it was he was looking for. The current of energy paused, tapping against one area of the portal’s edge. Like a snake, it struck, burrowing into the neon blue, penetrating it with a forceful thrust. A moment later, the tendril swept into the swirling vortex and began infusing it with its own energy.

And then, the fun began.

There was a crackle as the two forces met. As Tanne’s magic wove into the portal, a deep resonance echoed through the air, like thunder rumbling below the surface. Every hair left on my body stood to attention and I turned to run.

“Get out of the way, it’s gonna blow!”

Morio scooped me up, racing away from the area. He’d shifted within the blink of an eye and an eight-foot youkai met very little resistance. Smoky snatched Iris up and he and Delilah were bounding away from the portal. Vanzir was hot on their heels. Tanne caught up with us, his eyes wide.

“I didn’t expect this to happen so quickly,” he said, just as an explosion rippled through the air. The force sent us sprawling to the snow-covered ground. Unfortunately, the snow wasn’t deep enough to provide much of a cushion, so when I hit, I landed face-first in a low-growing fern. The fronds weren’t sharp, but they were strong and tough enough to scratch me a good one. Luckily, my face didn’t land center, but to the side, in the snow.