Page 40 of Killian
“You know, they’ve really gone out of fashion,” said Moira. “I can’t think of one.”
“Well, probably for the best,” said Cynog. “Who can get a minotaur to commit to sitting around in a labyrinth for a year or more?”
“Staffing would seem to be an issue,” said Moira.
Killian stood back and surveyed his work. He hoped he’d gotten this right. He held his hands out over the spell circle and recited the words the way he remembered Pellos doing. A blue glow formed a bubble around the yarn, and then, like a reverse pop, the light was suddenly sucked into the ball.
The yarn began to vibrate, then bounce, and then it jumped toward the portal.
“Grab it!” yelled Killian.
Cynog made a dive for it, scattering pens and paper around him. The ball of yarn bounced over him, dodged another elf, and rolled straight for the portal. Another elf dove for it, crashing to the ground, and the ball of yarn bounced off his helmet and flew for the doorway. But Moira snatched it out of the air.
“Booyah, bitches,” said Moira, clasping the yarn tightly. “And they say pitchers can’t catch. Ooh, I play baseball! That’s fun.”
Killian laughed as Moira discovered a new fact about herself. He had to admit that all of her memories sounded delightful. His didn’t seem quite so picture-perfect. He was also starting to have serious questions about his pack. Pellos was his pack-brother. He felt absolutely assured of it. Just as he had been for Hudson. Sebastian remained hazier, but there was still a foundational sort of certainty to him as well. But Pellos alsowasn’ta wolf. How was that possible? Most packs were related in some way and centered around the alpha couple. Male and female energy could be oppositional, but they were deeply interconnected, like yin and yang, and they both required to keep a pack together and balanced. That was why packs with a single alpha needed a strong beta, and usually, there had to be several females. There had to be the right mix of energy; otherwise, a pack would dissolve into in-fighting and disband. How had Alekos Ash managed to make them into a pack? It didn’t seem possible.
“So what do we do now?” asked Moira, petting the yarn ball soothingly. “This little guy wants to make a break for it.”
“Well, we have to get hold of the tail,” said Killian. He snatched at the dangling end of yarn until he grasped it. He probably looked like some sort of demented cat as he grabbed for it, but he tried not to mind. “I should have gotten that before saying the spell, but it wasn’t this excitable last time.”
It had been sluggish and slow to move.
“That’s the affects of the warlock bomb,” said Pellos as they trudged after their ball. “It would be faster further inland.”
Killian frowned. What bomb? That seemed like a hell of a thing to forget, but no wonder he hated warlocks if they set off bombs. He tied the end of the yarn to one of his belt loops.
“And then we let it go.”
He took the yarn from Moira and, with a flutter of nerves, dropped the ball. It bounced and shot into the portal, unraveling as it went.
“This is so cool!” exclaimed Cynog. “Did I use that right?” he demanded of Moira.
“Perfectly,” said Moira.
“And now we follow it,” said Killian, looking around the elves. Far from looking dismayed, most of them appeared almost as excited as Cynog. Killian shook his head. He couldn’t help thinking that none of them, including Moira and himself, had any idea what they were getting into. “All right then,” he said, taking Moira’s hand. “Into the labyrinth we go.”
Episode 18
Level one
Killian
The descent or float or interminable nothingness lasted longer this time and just about the time that Killian thought he might panic because he couldn’t feel anything, he found himself landing face-first in a pile of moss. Moira had the presence of mind to shoulder roll out, but before Killian could think to move, Cynog landed on top of him. The elves who apparently understood this kind of thing better landed gracefully. He and Moira exchanged annoyed glances and then Killian nearly laughed. It was damn nice to have someone who didn’t need words to communicate.
“That last step was a bit of a surprise,” said Cynog, shaking himself as Killian hefted the dryad to his feet.
“You could say that,” agreed Moira, then sneezed. “Oh, that’s a lot of…” She sneezed again and then Killian did the same.
“That’s a lot of tree,” said Killian, swiping at his nose. The earthy, slightly spicy scent was pervasive. It wasn’t bad, just very, very present.
“I’ve smelled this before,” said Moira. “It’s… It’s a redwood?”
“Yes!” exclaimed Cynog, clapping his hands.
“Yes, this smells like California. The giant redwood forest.” She looked around. “Well, I guess this would qualify as agiantredwood.”
“It’s a dawn redwood,” said Cynog. “Well done. So many non-dryads don’t care about dendrology.”
