Page 18 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

Dante seems not to hear any of them. He stares at the crossing point—a diagonal crackling slash in the air that cuts straight through the veil and will allow us to step through, if only for a moment. Grant tips his head to one side.

“It feels different from the other one.”

The other one. The one some high fae cut open with stolen magic a few months ago. Cassian nods.

“It is. It’s purposeful. And it’ll close behind you when you leave.”

“And when we want to come back?” Dante asks. There is no tremor in his voice, and I cannot read his expression.

“You return to the same point, with this.” Cassian reaches over and hands him something. “Scry me; let me know. We’ll open the crossing and let you through.”

Dante turns whatever Cassian has handed him over in his hand, then nods and puts it into his pocket. I don’t bother looking at what it is. No doubt Isidore and Soren already know that I am unlikely to accompany them back.

“What about if we’re in a hurry? Are you all going to be waiting here?” Grant looks around at the four of them.

“Are you likely to be in a hurry?” the other vampire drawls.

Grant doesn’t even flinch; he simply shrugs and his lips tip up in a little smile. “Historically, yeah.”

The vampire snorts. “We’ll stick someone nearby.”

“Half a day, you said?” Cassian asks me.

I nod. “To get to the witch. To the court, finding her…”

“Two days,” Dante says.

That is optimistic. I do not say so, but my reservations are reflected on Cassian’s face.

Still, he nods. “All right. We’ll be nearby anyway. If we don’t hear from you in two days, we’ll put feelers out—but you need to understand that we have to be careful. Especially right now.”

“Got it,” Dante replies and squares his shoulders. He means to walk through first, and I cannot—

I take a step before he can and he jerks as though he meant to move but I stopped him. Grant raises an eyebrow. “After you, I guess.”

“Hurry it up,” Isidore says. “We’re not supposed to hold this thing open all day.”

I take a breath and step through the gap.

The swell of magic hits me first. Pure, unfiltered, it rushes through me in a wave and I rock back on my heels at the feel of it. I still have enough sense of mind to step aside so that Dante and Grant can follow me through, but beyond that I hear nothing, see nothing. Feel nothing but all that power.

The world comes spinning back to me when a hand lands firmly on my forearm. I blink and peer at Dante’s concerned face.

“…you okay?” he says. The words sound as though they are coming from a distance.

I do my best to shake the feeling off. The magic remains, but now it ebbs and flows through me, unable to anchor because there is nothing for it to anchor on.

“Well enough,” I say because I am not injured, even if it hurts to have all that magic so close and be unable to use it. I expect Dante to let go, but he does not. He tightens his grip, if only for a moment.

“Okay,” he says eventually. Then he lets go, and although he was not touching my skin, the nerves light up all the same, and I bite back some involuntary sound that, if it were to escape, would undoubtedly be deeply embarrassing.

Grant stands a few feet away, eyes fixed on where the crossing is closing. Dante gravitates towards him, then looks back at me.

“Where are we going?”

I finally take in our surroundings. We are in a small clearing, pine trees stretching up towards the azure sky. A breeze snakes between tightly packed tree trunks, carrying the scent of pine and—

Magic. Not the general, heavy pulse of it. The witch. She already knows I have returned.