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I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. "I just hate that we're mixed up in all this killing. I hate that we can't go home because the same damned thing is happening there, only the stakes aren't quite so high. I hate that our father and aunt are in danger."
"Speaking of family, Trillian told me that the Jakaris priests reported that Shamas—"
"Right, he's dead," I said flatly.
She shook her head. "No! That's what I wanted to tell you. The monks were about to stop his heart when he—and I have no idea how he did this—but he managed to take control of their spell. He used it to… well… to vanish. They don't know if he's alive or dead, and nobody can figure out where he went."
"Holy crap." I stared at her. That was the first good news we'd had in ages. "You don't think he… uh… imploded, do you?" The thought made me queasy, but it was a possibility. Yanking the threads of somebody else's magic away and warping it to work for yourself was risky, at the very best. Then again, he hadn't had much to lose.
Camille grimaced. "That is a distinct possibility. The gods know it would probably happen to me, but to Shamas? He had a lot of power, though I don't recall what specific gifts he inherited from Aunt Olanda and Uncle Tryys. Whatever his powers are, they must be doozies, because he used them to get away. Lethesanar was furious when she found out. Trillian said that his informant told him the scene in the throne room was hideous. The Queen flew into such a rage that three servants and the messenger were dead by the time she was done. She ripped out their hearts."
"Oh, Great Mother." Lethesanar had it in her. We all did—our father's race was not a docile one. But the thought still turned my stomach. "I imagine that's the last time anybody ever volunteers to take bad news to her."
"Yeah, isn't that the truth?" Camille shrugged. "Here's hoping Tanaquar can vanquish her. Let's get moving. I'll dress and meet you downstairs. As soon as Zach's friend gets here, we'll head out. We have to end this. Tonight."
I nodded, taking the stairs two at a time up to my suite. Camille was right. It was time to put a stop to the Hunters Moon Clan. We might not be able to thwart Shadow Wing by taking out this latest Degath Squad, but if we could get to the spirit seal before they did, we'd be another one up on the demon lord. And that would truly be reason to rejoice.
I slipped on a pair of tights, then a pair of jeans. Under a hunter-green turtleneck, I was wearing a cotton camisole. Layering was good; it wouldn't impede movement as much as a thick parka, and yet it would keep me warm.
I dug around in my closet until I found a black suede jacket that was warmer than my unlined leather one. Along with gloves, a black bandanna over my head to keep my ears warm, and a pair of light hiking boots, I figured I could withstand the weather and still make it through the bush. I studiously kept my mind off of Rhonda while dressing. Some thoughts were unnecessary torture.
Camille shocked the hell out of me. Rather than her usual long skirt, she'd opted for a pair of winter leggings and a heavy cowl-neck tunic over the top. The tunic clung to her thighs, molding to every curve. She was wearing a pair of lace-up ankle boots and leather gloves, and she slipped her short spider-silk cape over the top. Even geared up for the outdoors, she still looked like an ad out of Vogue, albeit much more curvy than the typical model.
"I've never seen you dressed so .. .functionally before," I said, grinning at her. "It's a change."
"I'm not thrilled with it, but hey, we're facing spiders, and they bite. I don't want to tempt them by leaving too much skin exposed," she said, rolling her eyes. "Let's get this show on the road."
When we entered the living room, Rhonda was there. I stopped dead in my tracks. She was a bombshell. Gorgeous, regal, and dominant. Shorter than me, she was athletic and sleek. Her mane of golden hair had been braided into a long French braid, and her outfit was perfectly pulled together, but her build screamed that she was far more than just a ski bunny. She'd be one tough cookie in a fight; that much was obvious. But it was more than her exterior that floored me. It was the way she held herself—as if she were queen of the pride. And maybe she was.
She held out her hand, and I reluctantly shook it. Her grip was firm and warm. Involuntarily, I drew closer, wanting to be part of her circle. But one step too far, and I felt the dividing line—a reserve not born of snobbery but of the inborn sense that she stood a few rungs farther up on the social ladder than I did and that she always would.
I pulled back, and we locked gazes.
"We're so glad you're here," Camille said, stepping in front of me and extending her hand. She paid no attention to Rhonda's glamour, and the werepuma seemed disarmed for the moment.
"Yes," Menolly said, joining us. "Thank you for coming. We can use the help." She, too, ignored Rhonda's demeanor and abruptly, after a quick shake, turned her back on her and went into the kitchen.
Rhonda looked over at Zach. "Will he survive?"
I nodded. "We called the medics in time to neutralize the poison, but he can't move much for a few days. He's stuck here tonight, and there's no chance he can go with us."
"Have the boys filled you in?" Camille asked.
Rhonda nodded, her gaze flickering over to Trillian, who stared back at her, cool and aloof. After a moment, she looked away, blinking. I had the feeling Rhonda was used to being the center of the party, and tonight, not everybody was playing the way she had expected.
I stood up. "Okay, before we get moving, let's come up with a rough plan. Camille, since moon energy doesn't work so well on the werespiders, what are you going to use for a weapon?"
She patted the sheath on her belt. "Short sword. And I know a few spells that don't rely on the moon's energy. I might be able to summon up an Elemental to help us—perhaps a wind or an earth Elemental. Of course, if they're pissed, they may decide to help the spiders, so…"
"Let's leave that as a last resort," I said quickly. "I'll go in fighting, as usual. Chase, what are you bringing to the table?"
"I have my gun, of course, and nunchakus," he said, holding up the fighting sticks. "Silver bullets only work on lycanthropes, so I didn't bother bringing them."
"Good. Smoky, Trillian, Morio?"
Morio arched his eyebrows. "My repertoire includes a number of spells and illusions. And if all else fails, I can let loose my true form and have at them. I'm not such a pretty boy when I let the demon out to play." He said it so calmly that I had to smile until I remembered that none of us had ever seen Morio when he was in full demon mode.
Smoky snorted. "I'm a dragon. I'll do what I do best."
