Sorceress Rising (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 2) (9 page)

Whitethorn gave
an almost defeated sigh. “So the Wild Hunt must ride to shore up our defenses,
for we will need them in the coming days or months.”

“However, we
can’t risk the hunt for the very reason it could expose us to the humans,” Gran
countered, with a raised eyebrow in Whitethorn’s direction. “Round and round we
argue and still no progress.” She stuck her spoon in her tea and gave it a good
stir as way of punctuating her statement.

By the exchange
of dagger-like looks shooting between Gran and Whitethorn, Lillian could only
assume the Wild Hunt was a sore point between the two. Silence held for a
heartbeat more, and then the entire table erupted into a chaotic debate
strident enough to make a politician proud.

Lillian didn’t
venture into the verbal warfare, instead studying Gregory for any reaction. He
leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest, and tilted his head
first at one arguing Fae and then another. Not one soothing word or sage piece
of advice did he utter into the debate. Instead, he studied the others with a
glint in his eyes that clearly said he found the whole situation humorous.

Gregory had made
no attempt at subterfuge to hide his feelings on humans. She didn’t think he
was underestimating them as an enemy, it was more like he’d already made up his
mind on how to deal with them, and they were no longer a concern.

Which concerned
Lillian, greatly, because it could mean one of two things.

Either Gregory
underestimated the humans and didn’t see them as an imminent threat, more like
something he could cure with a little time and proper guidance.

Or he
did
see the humans as a threat.

And Gregory
tended to terminate anything he saw as a threat with extreme prejudice and very
little guilt.

Gooseflesh
crested along her arms and raced down her body. Lillian glanced up from the
grain of the wooden table to meet Gregory’s intense gaze. When she raised an
eyebrow in question, he merely nodded his head in a barely discernible motion.

“If you find
a peaceful resolution to allow the Wild Hunt to ride while at the same time
protecting the humans from themselves, I will make certain the Clan and Coven
abide by your plan.”

He was leaving
it up to her?

Well, it’s
settled then. She’d just have to come up with a solution to the ‘human’ problem
and prove to Gregory his trust in her wasn’t misplaced.

She compressed
her lips. Between the military, the media, and an army of scientists, Lillian
had just set herself a near impossible task.

How did one hold
the Wild Hunt without the risk of discovery? How indeed?

The problem with
the hunt centered on the initial raising of power, and the subsequent magical
blast wave it pushed out across the land, which washed away all but the most
powerful of pre-existing spells. So the usual concealment spells the Fae used
to hide, and perhaps even some of Gregory’s shielding spells, would be washed
away by the new tide of power released across the land.

The Fae needed
to hide in plain sight, in essence, to be visible and yet not draw attention to
themselves.

A diversion.

An old bait and
switch trick worthy of a great magician.

When the bare
bones of an idea came to her, she grinned so hard it hurt her cheeks.

“The Wild Hunt
needs to come out of the closet to hide in plain sight.” Lillian smirked as
those around the table fell silent one by one and turned toward her. When she
was certain she had their full attention, she continued. “We need an ironclad
‘cover story’ to offset the danger of discovery during the Hunt. Give the
average human a plausible mundane explanation for anything strange they might
happen to see, and their reasoning mind will be more than willing to believe
the lie instead of an impossible truth.”

Greenborrow
wheezed rather loudly. Lillian took it as a sound of encouragement.

“If you want to
hide the Wild Hunt, then all you need to do is throw an elaborate masquerade
ball. Give the humans illusions, parlor tricks, and true magic. They won’t know
truth from fiction, and the secret of your existence will remain safe.”

Lillian held her
breath, waiting for the first denial. One minute stretched into a second, but
no challenges came. She released the breath she’d been holding and glanced
around at the other Fae. Each in turn had a thoughtful expression, their gazes
turned inward in calculation. It was Gran who finally broke the unnatural
stillness by picking up her cup of tea and sipping from it.

“Well?” Gran
directed the one word into the silence. “Personally, I think Lillian’s idea has
merit. What says everyone else?”

Whitethorn
cleared his throat. “If this masquerade is to work, it will need to be
substantial to draw the numbers required, covering a large region, community-wide
at least.”

“There could be
more than one venue,” Goswin suggested. “A parade, or a theatrical performance,
a renaissance fair. Music and dancing and drinking.”

Greenborrow
laughed. “Lots of drinking. Get them drunk and any stories will be easy to
discredit.”

The banshee
shifted in her chair and pulled absently at her clothing, like Gregory had been
doing earlier. “Will not those persons seeking the truth behind the more
fanciful imaginings—such as Major Resnick—be suspicious of something like this?
What possible reason could we have to host a…medieval fantasy renaissance
fair?”

“Greed.” Lillian
laughed at the banshee’s questioning look. “This whole situation has drawn in
huge crowds of people, and those people have money in their pockets. Any
business-minded local is going to be brainstorming ways to part people from
their money.”

“I really can’t
find fault with your reasoning,” Greenborrow commented. “Though your plan may
draw suspicions directly upon your family and the Coven by association.”

“From how Major
Resnick was questioning me and by what Gregory picked from his mind, we know we
are already in their crosshairs. So the problem isn’t so much whether we can
completely fool the authorities, but whether we can hide the Hunt from the vast
majority of humans. The Hunt must happen. How many days to the next full moon?”

“Twelve,” Gran
said, her brows furrowing in thought. “Twelve days to pull off the bluff of all
bluffs. Leave this to me; I’ll rally the Coven. We’ll see to the human threat,
and it will leave the Clan free to help Gregory to prepare for a war with the
Lady of Battles’ forces.”

Lillian had
almost managed to put that particular danger out of her thoughts, but it was
just as real as the human military—and far more dangerous, as the demon seed
presently trapped within her hamadryad proved. But as dire as the situation
was, it was really just a waiting game. In time her tree would finish killing
the demon seed and Lillian would be free to rejoin her hamadryad, reclaim her
soul, and take up the mantle of her power to become an Avatar once again. Then
they could face the Battle Goddess on a level playing ground.

Easy as
one-two-three.

Sure. As if
anything in her life was ever easy. But presently, there was nothing she could
do about it, which left her to help with more mundane difficulties. She turned
to Gran. “Since the masquerade was my brilliant idea, how can I help?”

“Flyers.” Gran
stated with a chuckle. “Your expertise on the computer would be lovely.”

The impromptu
council meeting broke up. Whitethorn, Greenborrow, and the banshee herded
Gregory in the direction of the back door, while Gran and Goswin ushered
Lillian off to the one corner of the living room that doubled as the home
office.

Tethys waited
until sharks came and the humans were distracted. Then she eased up underneath
the boat. Half hidden by its shadow, she studied the two humans. An older male
and a younger female occupied the cage. With their backs to her, and their
attention focused on their equipment and the milling sharks, they were
oblivious to the danger that even their stout cage wouldn’t protect them from.

Yet Tethys
hesitated.

As far as humans
went, these ones were better than many she’d met over the centuries, their
hearts held kindness, their minds a sharp intelligence, an essence bright with
potential. She would regret snuffing out that rare quality.

She reached
through the bars of the cage, and then hesitated a second time. Unnoticed by
her prey, she fought a silent debate within her own heart. These ones thought
of themselves as protectors of the ocean realm. And perhaps in a better world,
that would be enough.

Yet, more was
needed. Their lives would continue to serve the ocean realm. She whispered a
prayer for them as she reached her hand inside the cage a second time. Her
fingers closed around the male’s ankles, and she commanded the water magic to
swirl the breathing device from between his lips.

The male tried
to free his feet and simultaneously make a grab at his breathing tube. When he
realized it was out of his reach, he struggled harder as panic set in.

She allowed the
male enough freedom to fight harder, his exertion would end his suffering
faster. The female she buffeted with ever changing water currents, slamming her
from one side of the cage to the other.

After a short
time, the male’s struggles lessened. As the siren waited for his end, she took
no pleasure in it, but wasn’t overly moved by his fear either. She did feel
guilt, for her actions stressed the dolphins, peaceful, forgiving creatures
that they were. Once this unpleasantness was over, she would make amends to
them.

Her gaze
travelled from the dolphin pod disappearing in the distance and slid back to
the cage and her work. The human male was dead. But she noticed her momentary
distraction had almost allowed the female to escape. She’d managed to fight the
currents long enough to climb half out of the cage. As Tethys watched, her head
broke the surface, and she heard the woman scream for help. Another human from
aboard the boat leaned over the side and grabbed the woman’s arm.

As her intended
prey was pulled over the side and out of sight, the siren dropped away from the
cage. She circled the boat at a leisurely pace, listening to the woman’s
hysterical cries.

In the world
above, the two remaining humans had edged closer to the side of the boat. Their
frightened visages peered back at her, tracking her movement through the water.
She didn’t hide from them, wanting their attention.

Another powerful
tail flick and she surfaced to study the humans in turn. The male seemed to be
the same age as the female. Both were young—adults, but not far into adulthood.
Flicking her glance back down to the cage below, she wondered if the older male
was mentor to these younger ones.

Perhaps it would
have served her better to keep the older one alive. He may have been more
knowledgeable about this new world and everything going wrong with it.

No matter. It
was too late for regrets. Her power was great, but even she could not heal
death. The young male would have to do.

Rising a bit
higher out of the water, the siren spat salty brine from her lungs and out her
gills and dragged in a lung full of air. It tasted odd. Not oily like the
water, but oddly heavy with strange odors.

She drew a
second breath, then on a third she began to sing. Within the first few notes,
she’d snared the male as was clear by his mesmerized, vacant look and the
easing of tense muscles.

The human’s
companion wasn’t as affected by her song, which was very rare. This female must
have suffered damage to her hearing at some point in her life. With the
slightest change in her song, Tethys ordered the male to sit. His female
companion started shaking his shoulder, shoving him sideways with the strength
of her grasp. But Tethys’ influence was more powerful than simple gravity, and
the male swung back into position without a flicker of emotion on his face. His
companion backed away, her horror almost a tangible flavor on the back of the
siren’s tongue.

The human
continued to back pedal until her legs touched the edge of the boat’s one side.

With a nod of
her head, Tethys acknowledged the human’s survival instincts. But even with an
entire width of the boat between them, the female still wasn’t safe, and
perhaps the human was intelligent enough to know it, for a sad, desperate look
flooded her features.

Tethys
hesitated, and then gave the human an equally sad smile. She would take no joy
in this one’s death either. The human was a fighter, young though she was, and
perhaps deserved a better fate than the one planned for her.

But the ocean
deserve a better fate than what humans had left it. With a powerful flick of
her tail, Tethys drove herself higher out of the water. Between the webbing of
her tightly fisted fingers, a power built, water aided by magic solidified into
a long trident with bright crystalline points.

Half twisting in
a powerful thrust, the siren sent the trident flying. It speared the female in
the upper chest, sending her flipping over the side of the boat to land with a
great splash on the other side.

Tethys moved
quickly, darting under the boat and up the other side to the body’s location.
The woman was already dead, a clean, quick death. Grasping the corpse, she
heaved it up and out of the water and onto the boat where it would be safe from
sharks, since she still had need of the body.

Once done, she
sank below the waves in search of the one whose distress was so suddenly
overwhelming.