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“Any indication of what we might be dealing with?” he asked. “I can smell the blood, but that in itself doesn’t tell me much.”
“A summoning sacrifice was performed, but at this point, we have no idea whether it was successful or not.”
Aiden nodded. “That path leads up to the Tunnel, from memory.”
“What’s the Tunnel?” I asked.
His gaze met mine and, just for an instant, was filled with so much love and frustration it burned my senses.
“It’s a short tunnel some miners in the 1850s cut through solid rock to divert the Burennberg River from one point of a horseshoe bend to the other to make accessing the gold in the riverbed easier.”
I glanced at Monty. “A tunnel is a rather odd place for a sacrifice site to be set up, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “It would depend on its size, what condition it’s in, and whether the diversion still exists.”
“The sluice gate was permanently closed decades ago,” Aiden said, “but the Tunnel remains intact and does still flood when the river runs high. I’ll lead.”
We followed him into the forest. Moonlight filtered through the overhead canopy in bright stripes, casting the shadows into deeper darkness while eradicating any lingering spell threads. Eventually, we came out of the trees to a small, grassed area that was—if the litter scattered about was anything to go by—used as a picnic spot. Beyond the grass was a rocky riverbed that was currently dry. The Tunnel lay to our right, and was a straight but not very wide cut in the rocky cliff face of the hill that towered above us. A couple of trees had recently fallen across the entrance—no doubt due to the storms we’d had last weekend—but they were positioned in such a way that an entry point remained.
Monty cast more light into his sphere and sent it floating toward the Tunnel’s entrance. “I’m not seeing anything that indicates a spell circle or sacrifice site.”
“I doubt you would, given the blood scent is coming from inside.” I glanced at Aiden. “Is the other exit point still open?”
Aiden nodded. “The Tunnel is probably a hundred or so meters long and comes out onto the riverbank on the other side.”
“And you’re not scenting anyone in the immediate area?”
He glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “Are you?”
I couldn’t help a smile. “Your senses are a wee bit sharper than mine.”
“I wouldn’t be putting money on it. Not these days.”
“They will never be werewolf strong, Aiden. Never.”
Just as I would never be a werewolf.
I could see the echo of that thought in his eyes. He smiled, though it was a ghost of its usual self. “I thinkthatis a primer for a discussion needing to be had elsewhere, in private. No offence, Monty.”
“None taken, and I totally agree. Now, can we get moving before any damn hope of tracking our summoner disappears?”
I had a hunch that our chances of doingthathad already gone, but kept it to myself. We moved forward in single file, Aiden once again in the lead, and Monty behind me. Once we’d climbed down the river’s bank, we warily entered the Tunnel. It was narrower than it looked and smelled of moss and wet earth. Monty’s light sphere bobbed along above our heads, enabling us to see where we were going without having to resort to flashlights.
The closer we got to the other exit, the stronger the blood scent became. But entwined within it now were two other scents—one that was sulfuric in nature, and one that was weirdly musky. The former was sometimes associated with demons, but I had no idea what caused the latter. I doubted it was anything “natural” though.
We squeezed through the exit and climbed over a couple more trees that had fallen across the sluice channel. Trees lined the bank to our left, but to our right was a small stony clearing. In the center of that clearing were several half-melted black candles. I knew without even approaching they’d be located at the cardinal points of a pentagram.
Inside that pentagram was a gutted sheep.
Aiden climbed out of the ditch, then turned to help me. “Is it usual to use such a large animal in summoning spells?”
I clasped his hand and let him pull me out, even though I didn’t really need the help. It was just nice to touch him. Nice to have a reason to touch him.
I seriously, seriously, needed to stop stuffing around and just talk to the man. This was getting ridiculous.
“Depends on what they were summoning,” I said.
He nodded and released my hand. I tried not to mourn the loss. I failed.
