With a burst of energy that knocked him to his feet, an enormous fur covered animal appeared where the male was, the broken ends of the rope snapping to either side. Billy Bob shrieked like a little girl, as the animal— a veritable wolf on steroids — leapt with tremendous power towards the entrance of the cavern. In a blur of fur and force, it was gone before Cadmus could even scramble back onto his feet.
“After him, you dolt!” It would be futile, but he wanted Billy Bob to at least pretend to do something useful, and leave him alone to collect his thoughts.
Thatwasmagick.True, powerfulmagick.He hadn’t ever encountered it before, and maybe he would have picked up on it earlier if his senses weren’t playing catch-up with whatever was going on in this area. Either way, his instincts were right on the money. This would be a true prize for His Terrible Majesty, all the more so because the life force would be that much more potent.
He ran over to the slab, poring over it with every bit of unmaskingmagickhe had available. He’d pay for it with a colossal headache later, but the search was worth it.
There, on the slab where the rope had probably pressed against the punctures caused by the darts: almost microscopic traces, but The Infernal Gods willing, there they were. Blood from the male, potentially enough for a talisman, to be used just once, to locate him.
And then Cadmus would make damned sure that the wolf was properly knocked out this time, before presenting him to His Terrible Majesty.
* * *
Col raced through the woods, four-footed and fleet. He let his wolf senses take over, guiding him back unerringly. They could at least do that much, picking out the surest route through the dense scrubs of broom snakeweed and rabbitbrush, powering his massive body through the fingers of the yuccas clawing at him, as if he were trying to outrace his thoughts.
Not a prayer.
Stupid, stupid,stupid. That word was new to him, but it fit him perfectly.
That was the last time he would ever allow himself to be distracted by wearing headphones while on a run in his human form. Or doing anything in his human form for that matter.
He had known it was a bad idea when Aylwyn had goaded him to try it, but lately he’d been on edge. Like something was about to happen, the ozone in the air in between lightning strikes. Hell, his senses were already honed to a razor tip edge, or at least they were, before having to adjust to the trappings of modern life.
They had spent six arduous months recalibrating their senses, their bodies, to this new world. And now he was off-kilter again.
They had awakened for a reason, a sacred mission with which they were entrusted. They could never forget that.Hecould never forget that. Col was aWaryeor, first and foremost, and trained to live and die for his duty.
As he’d slowly, painfully awakened, on that slab, he could have sworn he heard his captor using the Ancient Tongue. Words that hadn’t been spoken in a thousand years. He couldn’t remember exactly what the man had said, as the fog cleared from his brain – had he mentioned The Dark Warlord? Because that would change everything.
Was he dreaming it, with his head still fogged by whatever sorcery had dulled his senses? Either way, he had to inform hisBredhren.
He was still castigating himself as he neared the clearing behind the ‘mansion’ – the word that today’s people used instead of castle - when his ears were assaulted by the sounds of Hammerfall turned up on high on the outdoor speakers. The power metal was blasting through so loudly that he could feel the vibrations reverberating through him as he raced towards the source. Coupled with the smell of fire-roasting—or what they called barbecuing—meats, he knew hisBredhrenwere likely gathered together in the spacious backyard of Simon’s mansion.
He waited until he could hear the loud chatter and laughter between the otherWaryeors,and even the voices of the two human males, Simon and Miller, before he surged powerfully out into the clearing, willing his body to transition to that of his human form mid-leap. Still running, he slowed to a stop in front of the others.
Aylwyn was the first to greet him. “Dude, where’ve you been this whole time?”
Col winced at Aylwyn’s grating use of modern slang, but it was Tybalt’s eyes that he sought. TheVixar, or leader, was looking at him, waiting for him to speak. Simon and Miller stood by watchfully, and even Merek and Barric had broken off their wrestling match to listen.
“Bredhren,” Col said grimly. “We have a problem.”
