Mistweavers 01 - Enchanted No More (19 page)

“I don’t know how long it will take. You’re the expert,” he said mildly. “But I do know the tree closest to the area. We’ll go that way.”

“All right.”

They stepped into the dead tree and the greenhome, through the far side into the space of a tree that Jenni sensed was smaller. The air was colder and laced with the scent of snow. “No dryad here?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

Aric’s fingers rubbed over the back of her hand. Without any words, he knew she wanted to linger here. She only hoped he didn’t know why. That was a jolt of shame to mix with her fear.

She was afraid to go outside.

AS SHE HESITATED, ARIC TUGGED HER FROM
the greenhome in the tree. She gritted her teeth and moved through her fear, glad she was holding his hand. That helped.

The real world revealed fresh snow and gray sky. The mudpots from which the bubble had arisen were plopping cheerfully. A sniff told her that some Waterfolk had rehydrated it.

“A team of naiads and naiaders had fun the night after the bubble event,” he said, smiling. “I saw them when I had to speak with the tourists and smooth things over.” Now his smile turned ironic. “I posed as a geologist and Etesian gave me a script to follow.” Aric squeezed her fingers. “It went fairly well.”

“If that woman who we shocked was there, I’m not surprised.” Jenni stopped to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re a charmer, you are.” She used her old British accent that she’d had when they’d been together before. The past and present of Jenni and Aric were merging, and not too roughly.

“It was a small group, and luckily no human scientists were there to question my simple explanations, though we’ve been monitoring the rangers and all human communications. They have noticed ‘anomalies’ in the area and have sent for some experts. Etesian assures us that anything regarding the bubble event is rapidly dispersing.”

“And to verify that is why we’re here today.”

“Yes.”

They’d reached the edge of the path, close to where Jenni had gone into the interdimension and the bubble had risen. Neither she nor Aric were strong enough in magic to survive if they stepped off the walk and the earth crumbled beneath them.

She extended her senses to check on the amount and composition of the elemental energies. The area where they stood was almost evenly balanced, with just a trace more of earth energy. A result of her time in the interdimension. She didn’t know if human scientists could discern or measure a magically balanced area.

She strained to feel any of the smaller bubbles that had been born, but none were in the area. They might have popped or drifted away. She wasn’t even sure how many there had been, or how strong they’d been. Too much had been going on. But she figured she’d better be ready for any that occurred during the last event. The Eight would want to use them, too.

The first rustling caught her by surprise, then a whirl of shadleeches attacked. They were fat on magic. Jenni froze, opening her mouth to scream. Only mewls came from her. Aric whipped out his knife and started swinging. Shadleeches screamed as he cleaved them. They fluttered to his exposed head, hands. One bit his ear.

A whistling cry escaped her.

“Get into the gray mist, Jenni,” he ordered.

She chanted in her head. Stopped. She couldn’t leave him here.

Go to the interdimension.

“Won’t.” The word rattled in her throat. And since she wouldn’t, she’d better
move.
Teeth scraped her cheek. With a flash of fear and panic she burned it. Sucked in a breath, radiated heat around her. The things dived to avoid her.

One step, two, toward Aric. A shadleech flung itself under his collar, latched on to his throat. Right at Jenni’s favorite place. She couldn’t
stand
that. She jumped forward,
grabbed
the thing. Slippery, not furry like it looked. Sent a bolt of fire and it fell into flakes.

Aric clamped her to his side, whirled them around like branches whipping in a strong wind, his sword struck again and again. Using her magical senses more than her physical, she aimed, sent lightning from hands to shadleech. Burn!

A minute later Aric and she were alone and panting on the walk. Streaks of blood were on his face, on hers. One of the damn things had nipped at her hand and it ached all the way up to her shoulder.

Most of the shadleeches—twenty? thirty?—were gone. Incinerated by her or dead and vanished somehow. Aric kicked the corpse of one off the walk and sent it flying—right into the mudpots, where it dissolved on contact.

Another touched the ground and disintegrated.

“Appears sulphur isn’t good for them,” Aric said with satisfaction. He plunged his blade into the ground next to him and it sank to the hilt.

Jenni squeaked.

“Magical knife,” he said with a warrior’s grin. He pulled it from the earth and it was clean and sparkling.

“Uh-huh.” The shakes were coming over her, but that didn’t prevent her from digging a handkerchief from her pocket and reaching up to blot the blood from his throat.

“You didn’t go into the interdimension.” His tone was so even she couldn’t tell what he was feeling.

“I don’t desert my friends during battle,” she said.

His breath hissed in. He turned his back on her. “You mean like I did long ago? I think you should have a different liaison.”

“Wait, wait.” She stumbled to him, put her arms around him and her cheek against his back. His trench coat smelled of leather and Aric and shadleech. “I didn’t mean that as a slam against you.” She tightened her hold as his muscles flexed beneath her. “It’s just me. I go with my instincts and that’s to protect those I…care for. I don’t think in battle.”

“Not like your brother Stewart, then.”

“No. I’m not a trained soldier. Not something I want to be.” Though she’d always done better in games than in real life. Crap. Deal with that failure and move on. She was a virtual warrior. Didn’t seem much from there carried over to here. Too damn bad. “I don’t want anyone else as a liaison.”

“Good,” said the Earth King, the ancient dwarf, who rose from the ground, sword in hand. He leaned on it. His nostrils widened and he sniffed and clapped his hands, and said a spell. The ground trembled outward in a wave. “Magic enough to muddle any watching humans’ senses.”

He nodded to Aric and Jenni. “Very good outcome all around.”

She wanted to glare at him, but averted her eyes so he couldn’t snag her into a trance. Words spewed from her. “This was a setup.”

The Earth King’s wide lips curved into a rubbery smile that didn’t match the granite of his dark eyes. “We wanted you to know that our man Aric can and would protect you.”

“You also wanted to see me in action.”

A dip of the king’s head. “That, also. You did…relatively…well. And your conclusions regarding the elements in this area?”

“This location is balanced.” Jenni wanted to close her eyes to study the distance, but didn’t dare have less than all her senses alert. “Within about half a mile, in a circular pattern.”

“Half dome,” the king corrected. “The balancing also affects the earth in a half sphere beneath us.”

She should have felt that—had felt that—but hadn’t paid attention. She nodded.

“But the air does not hold the same amount of magic.”

“No,” she said.

“I do not sense any remaining minor bubbles?” the king asked.

“No,” she said again.

“All is well, then. We will have one of our halfling scientists assigned to the human team to study the recent changes here.”

Neither Jenni nor Aric replied. She wasn’t quite sure what her lover was feeling. He’d shut down his emotions. A good thing to do around the Eight. Something she needed to practice sooner than later…if she continued to work with them.

“Thank you, Princess Mistweaver Emberdrake, for your insight.” The king turned to Aric and inclined his head. “Well done, Aric.”

“Thank you, sire,” Aric said.

“Any comments?” asked the dwarf.

Aric said, “The shadleeches weren’t Kondrian’s. They didn’t have his smell—a rather sweetish odor.”

“Stale bubblegum,” Jenni said and both males stared at her. She lifted her chin. “Well, it’s true. He—and his shadleeches—smell like old bubblegum.” She sensed that both of them were too proud to ask what bubblegum was and suppressed any hint of a smile.

Aric continued, “The shadleeches were also fat. I believe they were relatively local creatures that were drawn here by the magic of the bubble event.”

“Yes,” the king said. He glanced idly around the panorama. “No sign of Kondrian. We believe that he has returned to his estate in eastern Europe. Until he heals.” He scanned Jenni and Aric. “He will no doubt be well enough to attend the last bubble event, even if he has to decimate his peasants for energy.”

Jenni wondered what the dwarf meant by
peasants.
But the Dark one didn’t seem like the most modern being, either.

“Best be on your way,” the king said. He gestured to the tree they’d exited before. “We’ll see you at the ceremony when the bubble arises.” He stared at Jenni. “Be sure to notify us immediately if you sense the event occurring in an untimely fashion.”

Then he was gone.

Jenni and Aric walked back toward the tree, and she noted their footprints in the snow, wondered what humans would make of those. What would she have thought a couple of weeks ago?

She looked at the skinny pine, the tracks, the walk. Despite most of her life and her time with Aric, she wouldn’t have thought of the Lightfolk first. She’d have thought someone went to lean against the tree for a photo.

Eventually the fact that there were Lightfolk would leak. The “meld” of technology and magic would ensure that. So would interacting with humans, but the Eight weren’t ready yet. She’d bet Aric’s meeting with the humans after the bubble incident had faded from their minds.

At the tree, she turned around, gave Yellowstone a last look. She’d have liked a blue-gold day, but what she had was gray…and the scent of sulphur…the hint of fire energies around them. Once she stepped into the tree she would be away from mountains and headed—in a few steps—to the west coast, California and the Pacific Ocean. She hadn’t seen an ocean in fifteen years, but soon the sound of surf would be dominant, not the smell of sulphur. Not the light of days living in Denver, the Queen City of the Plains.

“Let’s go,” Aric prompted. He tugged at her hand and she wasn’t quite sure when he’d taken it, holding hands with him seemed so natural.

They walked into the spruce again and into the greenhome—the sense of interconnected plant beings all around them, throbbing with life in various rhythms. This spruce was younger, its sap faster than a larger pine yards away. The nearby brush was quick. There was the sense that roots knew spring was only a couple of months away.

Aric’s arm came around her waist and he urged her into the green-black and they crossed into light—brownish-green light and the squeal of delight hit Jenni’s ears.

When her vision sharpened, she saw that they’d entered a large space and the table was dressed for tea and visitors.

“Aric!” cried Leafswirl, and then moved with the grace that gave her her name.

She was much smaller and much greener than Aric. Her hair was the spring green of new needles of the coastal redwood that she lived in. The dryad—appearing younger than her son—hugged him tightly, then stepped back, with a delighted smile. “My son. My one son. You are such a beautiful male.”

Aric’s skin turned a deeper copper and Leafswirl patted his cheek and spun away. Jenni’s gaze followed her and it seemed as if her surroundings exploded into sight. Leafswirl liked pastel floral patterns, and they were everywhere—on the tablecloth and the china set. Even the round walls of the room were papered in pale yellow with pansy clumps. Jenni blinked and blinked again.

“I have tea prepared!” Leafswirl sang.

“I’ve never known dryads
not
to have tea prepared.” Aric glanced at a regulator-style clock. “Early for midmorning tea. Late breakfast?”

“Brunch. I’m sure you can have a little nibble. There are eggs and potatoes.” Dryads survived mostly on the nutrients their trees shared with them, with the occasional vegetarian meal. “I have cookies.” She gestured and a multitiered tray appeared. There were cucumber sandwiches, maybe the red stuff was even sun-dried tomatoes and—

“Hummus. Cracked pepper,” Leafswirl said.

Yes. They were in California. Jenni took a deep breath and it smelled of redwood with a hint of sea spray. The ocean was within forty miles. “Thank you for inviting me into your lovely home, and for tea.”

“You’re quite welcome.” Leafswirl did another spin, this one in place, and Jenni thought the circular room expanded a few feet in circumference.

“I could eat some of your basted eggs and toast,” Aric said, putting Jenni’s bag out of the way under an occasional table. He sat on a small stool that turned into a chair and enlarged under his muscular butt, opened up a dome that held exactly what he wanted and dished four eggs out onto his plate, emptying the serving dish.

“That sounds wonderful,” Jenni said, sliding her backpack off and stowing it with her tapestry bag. She sat on another stool and became enfolded in a cushy armchair of a dusty blue with pink cabbage roses. Leafswirl giggled and took her own seat, which transformed into a curvy café chair with a pink seat cushion.

Jenni got an English muffin from the toast rack and put it on her plate, lifted the dome where Aric had taken the eggs and there were more, of course.

The three of them spoke of light topics—Leafswirl gave another rundown of Aric’s sisters and nieces—and ate. Jenni complimented the tea and food lavishly and often, which dryads seemed to need. Jenni’s father had been of the opinion that the Treefolk had come late to hospitality and hostessing and wanted to make up for lost time. At the end of the meal, the utensils and the crumbs on the tablecloth disappeared. The table itself moved to a side of the room, where a china lamp sprouted upon it to give mellow light. Leafswirl put a finger to her lips and gestured to the right and above them. Wooden steps extruded from the wall and spiraled upward.

“My friend Lightleaf is upstairs—sleeping. I want you to see her. She was caught on the edge of the forest when the shadleeches came.” For once Leafswirl was serious. She’d never shown her age, Jenni rarely even saw maturity in her eyes.

Leafswirl leaned forward, lowered her voice to a whispering of redwood needles. “She
survived
the shadleeches. And she’s not the only one. The last two incursions…the creatures have been stopped!”