Page 33 of Heart of a Dire Wolf
14
Nic watched Skyla step into the center of the trees, then stop and open her arms. He wanted to go with her, but knew he’d be a distraction.
He turned back to Chance and Moira. “You could still leave if you head west-northwest. Skyla says there’s a lake and a human settlement.”
“We’re staying,” said Chance. He put his hand on Moira’s shoulder. Subtle power flared.
Moira nodded. “This is where we’re supposed to be.”
“Okay,” said Nic. He hoped he’d have a chance to ask them about their unfamiliar magic later. “We’ve got a couple of defensive charms, a makeshift flamethrower, and a magical net big enough for a pack of wolves, but not for a pack of snow tractors.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “The town is full of the ghosts of the people who suffered and died from a blitz attack back in the Thirties. They don’t deserve to be attacked again because of us.”
From the north, a shrill whistle sounded once, then two whistles at once.
“Snowy owls,” said Nic. “Shifters. Former residents. They were here earlier today.” He looked for them, knowing it was futile, because owls ruled the night skies. “I need to warn them—”
A cacophony of raucous bird calls heralded the arrival of a large flock of ravens. A few landed on the nearby trees, but most landed on the ground and shifted.
Tad, the snowy owl shifter, strode in from the east part of town. “The perimeter ring called all of us home.” He unslung his backpack. “We scouted overhead. Humans and demons to the east.” He pulled a high-powered rifle from the straps. “This’ll stop the humans. Verna’s the better shot, so we’ll set up in the tree line.”
A purple-haired, multi-pierced Mackenzie raven shifter trotted up. “We scouted south. Two of the tractors are stuck.” She made a rude sound. “Lowland tourists don’t recognize soft ice when they see it.” She pointed toward eight or nine family members who were in a clump, sorting their gear. “My cousins are going to harry the mercenaries. The rest of us are staying near the perimeter to defend.”
Nic didn’t waste his time trying to stop them. The arrival of so many defenders felt right, somehow, as if Fort LeBlanc was getting a second chance. He pointed toward Moira. “Tell your cousins to look in her mirror before they go. The enemy has firepower, magic, and wizards. If they capture you, they’ll take you back to their auction house to sell you to the highest bidder.”
He turned to check on Skyla. His new gift for ghosts meant he could see they surrounded her. He sent a query along their mate bond, asking if she needed help. She turned and motioned him to come closer.
He stepped carefully into the small grove, trying to avoid placing his feet directly on a spectral presence. He felt like he should say something, but “hi” sounded too informal. He settled for simply nodding respectfully as he reached Skyla’s side.
“The undead insist there’s something important beneath us.” She stepped closer and slipped her hand into his. “Can you feel anything?”
“No, just you, and the trickle of magic that’s everywhere in Fort LeBlanc.” He tilted his head. “Want me to get Moira?”
“No, her kind of magic is hard on the ghosts. They exist in the spaces between belief and certainty.”
It kind of made sense, now that he thought about it. “What do we—”
Fairy portal magic flared, close by, followed by four more similar steady flares. The Kotoyeesinay cavalry brigade had arrived.
A huge whump shook the ground and the trees, and vibrated his chest. He didn’t even want to know if it was good or bad.
Skyla pulled her hand away. “Don’t let anyone shoot the fairies. It’ll just make them mad. I’m staying here.” The ghosts swarmed over her. “The key is here somewhere.”
“Skyla…” He wanted her far away from a battlefield, but she was a grown woman who could think for herself. He kissed her, letting the mate bond do the heavy lifting of communicating his warring emotions. “Be careful.”
“I love you, too,” she said. “I’ll be okay.”
He turned and walked out quickly. The sooner he got everyone settled, the sooner he could get back to her.
The whole town seemed ablaze with magic. He spotted Tinsel immediately, wearing red and green combat armor that glowed with fairy magic. She stood in a spiked Roman battle chariot that floated three meters off the ground, hovering near a portal that was twice as high.
Tinsel waved. “Nic!” The chariot floated down to where he stood. “Kotoyeesinay voted to treat your call like a formal aid request from Fort LeBlanc. It’ll be good field exercise for some of our rowdies.” She might be dressed like a warrior general, but her cheerful humor remained.
“Exercise?” Nic frowned. “The wizards won’t care who they hurt or kill.”
“Moira!” Tinsel waved, then pointed to a flat, two-meter high paper-wrapped package leaning up against one of the buildings. “Iolo sent a mirror.”
Moira nodded and veered toward it.
A shiny glint caught Nic’s eye. Two ornate, fifteen-centimeter gold keys hung on a thick chain around Tinsel’s neck. He’d seen them before, as tattoos. “What are those?”
