Autumn Whispers (An Otherworld Novel) (21 page)

BOOK: Autumn Whispers (An Otherworld Novel)
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“Chase, Sharah—you know they can’t survive something like that.” She was sobbing now, screaming at me. The anger in her voice was almost as frightening as the storm, but I knew she wasn’t aiming it at me. But her magic, if she unleashed it . . .

And then, she reached for the horn. She thrust it into the air and looked up at the storm. “You fucker! You can’t have them!”

“No! You can’t use the horn—even the power of the Black Unicorn can’t fight against whatever the hell this is! Camille, use your common sense. You’ll only get us both killed.” I wasn’t getting through. The fury was rising in her eyes and I knew we only had seconds before she let loose with the full force of whatever power remained in the horn. And if she did that, she’d turn the eye of the storm on us.

“I don’t want to do this!” I grimaced as I backhanded her a good one. My hand landed against her cheek with a resounding crack, startling her long enough that I was able to grab the horn from her. She raised her fingers to touch where I’d hit her—she’d have a nasty bruise, that’s for sure—and then burst into tears, collapsing on the grass beside me.

As I knelt down, tucking the horn securely back in the pocket of her skirt, she gazed up at the sky, a horrified look on her face.

“What are we going to do? What the fuck are we going to do?”

I sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t know. But we have to get out of the open. We have to get away from the city. Because I have a nasty feeling this is only the precursor to something far worse.”

“You’re right.” The familiar voice washed over me like warm rain, soothing and clear. We looked up, and there, standing over us, was Trenyth. He leaned down to help Camille to her feet. “Come. I know some place we can hide.” His face was strained, and he looked like he’d aged a century over the course of the evening.

Mutely, we followed him as he plunged into a side garden. Hell had broken loose, and we were missing loved ones, but the danger was too great. We had to regroup and sort out what this nightmare was.

Trenyth glanced at us as we entered a back rose garden. “Girls, war has come to Elqaneve. The sorcerers are here. And Telazhar is at the helm. We’re under siege.”

And with that, he paused by a trellis thick with branches, and pressed a hidden latch. The trellis opened, and he pushed us through into a hidden passage. Once again, we were on the run.

Chapter 11

The passage was straight, thank gods, with none of the twists and turns we’d encountered in the palace. Trenyth rushed us along. Both Camille and I were hurt—bruised and bleeding, skinned elbows and knees, and Camille was running barefoot, but we ignored the discomfort, ignored the ache, because there was a monster outside rampaging at the gates, and we could feel the storm’s breath on our heels.

Even here, I could feel the tingles of the storm attacking the city. Camille’s hair was wisping out, almost like it was standing at attention. My arms were a map of goose bumps, and it felt like ants were marching across my skin.

Trenyth kept us at pace through the narrow corridor. It seemed to be entirely formed of hedgerows, even the ceiling, but as I squinted, I could see the faint outline of branches through the roof. They were so tightly woven that little light filtered through, but the brilliant colors of the storm were unmistakable. Trenyth led us with a pale light that sat on his shoulder, and I had no idea what it was—not an eye catcher, that I knew, but there was no time now for questions. No time for anything but running.

Finally, we came to a door at the end of the tunnel, and wasting no time, Trenyth touched the surface with his hand and it flew open, slamming back. He pushed through and we followed. We weren’t near the palace, that much I could tell, but where we were, I had no idea.

As we entered what appeared to be a low-ceilinged room, Trenyth shut the door again and muttered a charm, and a faint blue glow raced around the edges. I had the feeling he had just sealed us in. The glow extended to fill the room, and we were bathed in the light, cool and sterile and neon. The room was square, with a door at the other end, and in the center of the room was a table and chairs. Cabinets lined one wall, and what looked like a well was in the corner.

Trenyth turned. “Sit down. Check your wounds.”

We obeyed without question. Camille examined her feet and grimaced, but then yanked out what appeared to be a smallish thorn. She lifted her skirts. Both of her knees were covered with abrasions and her calves were bruised. Her elbows were bleeding from where she’d hit the ground a couple of times.

I hadn’t fared much better. My arms were scraped, and I had a nasty bruise on my back where I’d tripped over some piece of debris. I realized that blood was dripping down my face, but the cut was small, near my left cheek. I wiped away the drops and settled into one of the chairs, grateful for the chance to rest.

We had been there no more than a moment or two when the ground echoed again, and began to roll. But Trenyth seemed unconcerned as Camille and I jumped for cover beneath the table. The rolling went on and on, but nothing in the room seemed to shake loose or even fall. A moment later, we crawled out after the shock dissipated. Trenyth motioned to the chairs.

“While we can feel the quaking in here, the fires and the damage cannot enter. This is a protected space. It was built to give the Queen refuge during a war.” A veiled look clouded his eyes and his voice grew harsh.

I let out my breath, realizing what he was implying. “She’s not here, is she?”

A pause. Then, a shake of the head. “No, I could not find her. I was headed back to look again, when I saw the two of you. And then . . . the palace went down.” He pressed his lips together and the gentle nature that I’d always appreciated seemed to vanish. For one of the first times, I grew afraid of him. Trenyth grew in stature, rising up. Oh, he might be the same height he always was, but it was as if he had removed a cloak, and we were seeing the power that had been hidden beneath.

“Do you know what that thing is? That storm?” Camille turned a bleak face to him. She huddled beneath her capelet, which was now covered in dust and ripped into tatters from catching on debris.

Trenyth slowly shook his head. “I don’t. Not for certain. But I know that Telazhar brought it with him, and the sorcerers conjured it. The storm is alive. You are right in that. And you felt it coming when our own seers could not. Had we only asked you over earlier, you might have been able to save us from this destruction.”

Camille let out a little cry and I realized what was going through her mind.

“It isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. Trenyth, how could you say such a thing?” I turned on him, furious that he would lay such a burden on her shoulders.

But he simply shrugged and gave me a cool look. “I did not imply that she
should
have sensed it, nor that this is, in any way, her doing. I simply stated that I wish we’d thought to bring her over earlier.”

“If wishes were pennies . . .” I pushed out of my chair, pacing the room. “What other resources do we have here? I see we have water.”

“We have plenty of food. And there are sleeping quarters through that door, and a magical laboratory with spell components. There is a hidden exit through a storeroom. It is not large but we kept it well stocked, even through all the years of peace.” He pinched his nose between his eyes and leaned on the table. “I have a headache beyond any I’ve ever had. This night . . . there will be so much death that comes from this.”

“You said war is upon us. Do you mean Telazhar’s army actually has breached the gates?” I frowned, trying to figure out how the hell we were going to get out of this one. First, we had to survive the storm. Then we had to make our way through the city to the portals, hoping they were still intact. That was, providing there weren’t sorcerers and their army running wild through the streets.

“As I said, we lost track with Darynal and his group a few weeks ago. We were getting ready to send out new scouts, and we called you in to tell you what was going on. But . . . it’s obviously too late.” He glanced up at us. “But I forget myself. You have loved ones who were in the palace. We cannot go outside again until the storm withdraws, but the moment it has passed, we will begin searching.”

A thought occurred to me. A horrible, terrible thought. “Menolly—if the storm does not pass before dawn . . .”

Camille gasped. “We have to get over there, storm or no storm. We have to find her. We can’t sit safe in here while she’s out there. While Chase and Sharah are in danger.”

Trenyth let out a slow breath. He took her hands, but his voice was clear and cool. “Don’t hold too much hope. We’ll scour the grounds, but you saw what happened to the palace.”

“We have to hold hope. It’s the only fucking thing we’ve got.” Camille shook him off and crossed to the well, where she got a drink of water. “The storm. If the sorcerers following Telazhar raised it, where the hell did they find it? Is that thing a creature that they invoked from a different plane? Or did they just decide,
‘Hey, let’s build a magical construct—a monstrosity of a storm. Boy, the fun we could have with that!’
How the hell can we fight it if we don’t know what it is?”

Tensions were strong. Trenyth had slipped into a quiet place, where he had locked his emotions in a box. And Camille’s temper was rising. Not a good mix. And me? I was caught in the middle. I tried to sort through what we were facing. We had to find the others. We had to find Queen Asteria. We had to make certain Menolly was protected when dawn broke. Which brought up another question.

“What time is it?”

Camille whipped out her iPhone and I groaned. I hadn’t even thought about doing that. But then she let out a growl. “Totally fucked. Won’t work. It should at least tell me the time but the storm fried it, I think.”

I checked mine. Blank, dark screen. “Yeah, same here. Trenyth, how close are we to midnight?”

He shook his head. “Believe it or not, it’s barely eleven, Earthside time. You came across around seven. The storm came in at . . . eight?”

Only three hours had passed? It felt like a lifetime. “That gives us some time with regards to Menolly. She was with Trillian, Shade, Chase, and Sharah. They were all together in the seers’ living quarters. How hard is it to find? And just how far below ground was it?”

Given a question he could tackle, Trenyth let go some of his dour demeanor and a bit of the elf we’d come to know peered through the gloom. “It’s not difficult, at least when the palace was standing. But it’s probably the equivalent to three stories below ground. Who knows if the hallways accessing the lower levels are still standing?”

“They were when we escaped.” Camille frowned. “But . . . that was before the strike on the palace.”

Trenyth let out a huff. “I apologize, by the way. I was wrong to be short with you. I’m just worried . . .”

“You don’t know where the Queen is. And she is your first duty.” I didn’t say,
“And your love . . .”
but I was thinking it. He loved her. And even though he could never have her, he couldn’t imagine her not being in his world.

He nodded. “Yes. It is my duty to protect her at all times. And I failed.”

“But you can’t be with her at every moment. No one can ever be there 24/7. It isn’t physically possible, nor emotionally healthy. She has bodyguards. Surely they will help her.” The edge had gone out of Camille’s voice. Now, she just looked tired.

When Trenyth didn’t answer, but looked to the side, she pulled out the unicorn horn to examine it. “Wow. I guess busting us out of that room discharged all the energy. I couldn’t have turned this loose on the storm even if I’d tried. I’m going to have to recharge it before I can use this again.”

“Put that away,” Trenyth said sharply. “Even though we’re protected here, who knows what magic the sorcerers have at their disposal? They may be able to sense powerful artifacts, and even when the horn isn’t charged up, the essence it contains is ancient and magnetic.”

“Putting it away isn’t going to help, since it means just stuffing it back in my skirt. But yeah, probably best not to make access too easy. Though, if any sorcerer wanted it, all they have to do is fry me to a crisp. And considering the nature of that storm, I doubt they’d have much difficulty.” She tucked the horn back in the secret pocket she’d had Iris sew into most of her traveling skirts.

Trenyth motioned for us to stay put, as he left the room. When he was gone, I turned to Camille.

“What the fuck do we do, then? Sit here?”

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but he’s right. When you think about it, if we go out there while the storm is still rampaging, we’re going to probably die. I doubt if we could even make it to one of the portals without chancing being caught in the destruction. I suppose . . . we can’t do anything else but stay here.” She toyed with the hem of her skirt. “I could, however, attempt to go out on the astral to contact Smoky.”

I felt the blood run from my face. “What if that storm is on the astral? You don’t dare do that.”

She gave me a look that I was all too used to seeing. “I know that. But do I have a choice? Our sister is out there, in that rubble. And Chase. And Sharah—who is about to have a baby. And . . . Trillian. I don’t want to lose any of them.”

“Not a good choice. Camille, for once, listen to me. I’m not even risking going out to find Greta.
It’s too dangerous.
” I stressed my words, hoping that this time she wouldn’t think of me as her little sister, but instead that she’d take me seriously.

As she was about to reply, Trenyth returned. The look on his face told us everything, and my heart sunk.

“The storm is still raging. There’s nothing left. As far as I can see, only rubble. I can hear the screams of people who are trapped, but there’s no way to get to them. Utter carnage.” He looked so shaken that I slipped out of my seat and went over to guide him to the table.

Camille took his hand, helped him sit down while I brought him a drink of water. Then, I peeked in the cabinets. Rations, food that stored well. I found a cured ham and sliced off several pieces, as well as a loaf of hard bread, not stale but baked for keeping long periods. I made a makeshift sandwich and pushed it into Trenyth’s hand, then went back to make more for Camille and me. Though my stomach was in knots, I realized I was starving. And having channeled the power of the horn, Camille had to be as well.

We ate silently. The meat was too salty, the bread too hard, but it was food and we needed the energy. Trenyth finally wiped his lips on the hem of his robe. He looked at us.

“You girls should rest. Sleep now and I’ll wake you up in a couple hours. There’s nothing more either of you can do until the storm starts to clear.”

As we stood, the floor rolled again and Camille stumbled. I caught her, and we rode out the quake. Trenyth wanted to show us to the bedchamber, but I nixed that.

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