Chapter 6

Every muscle in Delbin’s body ached by the time they reached the truck. Hell, even his mental channels hurt. On top of the odd, electric blast that one bastard had used to knock him out, he’d drained himself heavily to take control of two minds two different times. Drawing in more energy had helped keep him upright and moving, but only sleep would cure the rest.

With a sigh, he stared at the truck. “So how are we doing this?”

“We’ll put him in the back,” Inona said.

Delbin eyed the half-full bed of the pickup. Pieces of broken carnival rides and a few storage bins filled most of the space, but there should be enough room for the prince. Still… “What if he wakes up?”

She winced. “Good question. Is there something we can tie him to? There’s not room for me to sit beside him.”

Letting her take the prince’s weight, Delbin leaned over the edge of the truck bed and examined the thick metal rings in the side. Grunge had installed them so they could tie down equipment and tarps. Delbin grinned. Bet he didn’t expect them to be used to secure a prince. Then again, there was no telling what the old Sidhe had seen over the years.

“We can bind him to the cargo rings,” Delbin said. “They’re steel like the truck bed. That should weaken him a lot.”

“Good,” Inona answered.

Delbin took Kien’s shoulders while Inona lifted his feet. Together, they rolled the prince over the side of the truck where he landed with a thump and moan of pain. Delbin exchanged a worried glance with Inona.

“How long will he stay out?” he asked.

Inona peered over the side at the prince. “From a blow like that, probably not too much longer.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

Delbin darted around her and tugged down the tailgate. With a smile for Inona, he leapt up and started searching through the toolbox at the back of the pile of junk. He shoved aside the ratchet straps and bungee cords. Great for securing non-living cargo, but not… Ah! Delbin snatched up the bundle of nylon rope. Then he edged his way around the prince’s prone body until he reached his hands.

His attention on Kien’s face, Delbin released a tendril of magic until his mind touched the edges of the prince’s shields. Or what was left of them. In a few heartbeats, he’d eased through enough to confirm that Kien was hovering in that odd space between unconsciousness and awareness.

They couldn’t let him wake up before reaching Moranaia.

Delbin hesitated. If he messed up his mental blast, it could wake Kien rather than the opposite. Damn. As he considered the problem, his fingers flew along the rope, the knot patterns habit after so long on the road. By the time he’d secured the prince to the metal rings on the side of the truck with the rope, he hadn’t decided.

Then Kien groaned and twitched, and Delbin detected his mental shift toward wakefulness. No more time to debate. He gathered his power and sent it, like a dart, into the prince’s mind.

“What’s going on?” Inona whispered.

Delbin held up his hand, a silent signal for quiet. Had it worked? He searched the edges of the prince’s mind. Only when he found blank unconsciousness could he let himself slump against the back of the cab in relief. And exhaustion. He rubbed against the ache in his temples. Then he straightened again and forced himself to move.

Quietly, Delbin crept back until he could jump out of the truck bed. Then he turned to Inona. “I had to put him under again.”

She nodded. “Let’s go.”

They wasted no time hitting the road. Delbin had already backed out of the parking space by the time Inona had her seatbelt buckled, and with the hiking trails abandoned so late at night, he didn’t feel bad about speeding through the dark parking lot and the road beyond. Good thing it wasn’t daytime. No way they would’ve been able to get Kien tied in the back without being spotted.

“I’m surprised he didn’t camp closer to the portal,” Inona said.

Delbin’s gaze kept moving from the road to his rearview mirror, though he could barely make out the Kien-shaped lump in the back. “There was something about that column, I think.”

He felt her stare. “What column?”

“Sorry. Forgot you weren’t there for that,” Delbin answered. “There was a place where a stalagmite and stalactite had almost formed a solid piece. In the gap, they’d placed a crystal. The focal point of the spell.”

“I didn’t see anything like that,” she said. His gaze flicked to her at the worried tone of her voice. Her foot began to tap a restless beat as she continued. “We shouldn’t have left the mage. We should have tied him up at least.”

Delbin frowned at the dark road. “We didn’t have a choice. Isn’t Kien the priority?”

“Yes, of course.” She sighed. “But I’m afraid not capturing those three is going to come back to haunt us.”

Should he tell her what he’d done? Delbin had been exiled from Moranaia for so long he wasn’t sure what the rules were for the situation. But there was only one way to find out. “I erased the memories of the two I’d been controlling. I didn’t have the time or energy to wipe the mage, but I read him. He was serious about being done with Kien.”

His nervousness built, twisting his insides, until Inona spoke. “This is going to be the strangest report I’ve ever given.”

Delbin barked out a surprised laugh. “That’s all you have to say about it?”

“You think I’m going to chide you?” Surprise laced her tone. “An exile isn’t allowed to use magic for harm, generally speaking. But a situation like that was life or death. No one would expect you to choose death.”

He considered her words as he followed the winding mountain road back toward the portal. Maybe he hadn’t broken as many rules as he’d assumed when he’d first arrived here. The first ten years, he’d struggled the most, but he’d been careful not to wield his power for personal gain. He had learned the heady danger of using manipulation from Allafon’s fine example.

Delbin refused to turn into the monster he could easily be.

As they turned down the road to the portal, Inona spoke. “Where are we going to stop? There’s nowhere to park in the neighborhood, and it wouldn’t be good to unload Kien in plain sight.”

He snorted. “You’ve got that right. Never underestimate the ability of random people to do stupid stuff. Usually with no actual information about the matter.”

“I can’t tell if you’re amused or bitter,” Inona said. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“You move around as much as I do, you see more than enough examples of how people react.” Delbin gave her a quick, wry smile before focusing on the road again. “And it’s certainly not exclusive to humans.”

Inona went silent for a moment.

“So what do you suggest we do?” she finally asked.

He frowned. “Let me see if I can remember someplace close.”

“Remember?”

“I make it a point to know the area around any portals on our route,” Delbin answered. He passed the neighborhood, his gaze scanning the dark trees to his right. Yep, still there. He slowed and eased the truck onto a bumpy dirt driveway barely illuminated by the headlights. “There used to be an old house on the other side of the ridge from the portal. Not sure if anyone lives there, though.”

Her voice rose over the rumbling sound of the truck. “What will happen if they do?”

“Nothing, probably. We’ll stop before we get to the house.”

The trees began to thin ahead, and the driveway curved toward the right. Moonlight poured across the empty expanse of hill rolling beyond. The far edge of that hill dropped away at the ridge, but it was impossible to see from this angle. He’d walked the area the last time the fair had visited Chattanooga, enjoying the energy of the portal. Dreaming of home. Hah. One hundred years of sacrifice might have been for nothing if his brother was dead.

Delbin’s mouth tightened at the thought, but he only hit the brakes and shoved the vehicle into park. No use dwelling on a past that wouldn’t change.

“Let’s get going,” he snapped, shoving himself out of the truck before Inona could comment.

Her door clicked shut as he crossed to the side, but she didn’t speak. Fortunately. He couldn’t explain his sudden ill humor even to himself. Huffing out a breath, Delbin glanced over the side of the truck. Then he froze. The space where Kien had lain was empty, save a puddle of blood and a tangle of rope.

“Fuck,” Delbin yelped.

Inona rushed over. “What?”

“He’s gone.”

She sank low, her gaze moving around the area as she pressed her back against the side of the truck. With a sharp tug on his wrist, Inona pulled him down beside her. “When did you last see him?”

Delbin thought back. Had he checked after turning down the dirt road? “On the main road for sure. When we turned under the trees, it was too dark.”

“Clechtan,” she cursed. “We need to move. If he gets to the portal first, there’s no telling where he’ll go.”

Before he could say a word, she darted out of sight.

Inona didn’t bother waiting to see what Delbin would do. If Kien had escaped near the main road, he might have circled around the base of the ridge to the portal. Although it was technically spelled against letting him enter Moranaia, there were plenty of other realms he might escape to. Realms she wouldn’t know to search.

Instead of heading directly across the open hill, Inona cut right until she reached the trees lining the south end of the ridge. She sent her senses out around her as far as she could with the minuscule energy available. No sign of Kien, although she detected Delbin just behind her. As she ducked into the trees, she pulled her knives and worked her way carefully toward the portal.

They rounded the base of the hill, and the gentle slope gave way to the sharp line of the ridge wall. Inona gave Delbin a mental nudge. “I don’t sense him. You?”

A brief pause. “No. Dammit. I should’ve kept mental control, but it takes so much energy.”

“Which isn’t exactly plentiful on Earth,” she grumbled. Then a new thought hit her. “Are you sure it was really him? That illusion he did this morning was quite realistic. I’m not sure of the extent of an illusionist’s power.”

“Illusions don’t bleed, or if they did, they wouldn’t leave any blood behind. There was a pool of blood in the back of the truck.”

At least that was one worry gone. But Inona hadn’t sensed him by the time they approached the portal, and a quick examination of the area showed no signs of disturbance. No footprints, no blood. She closed her eyes and connected to the shields around the portal. Thankfully, no one had passed through.

Where could he have gone? Back to the cave? Maybe he had some way to detect them so he could stay out of sight.

“You said there’s an old house on the north side of the ridge?” she asked.

“Yes.” He frowned. “Well, more northwest. You think he’s there?”

“I suppose we’ll have to find out.”

In silence, they followed the ridge until they reached the line of trees. The stone wall had shrunk to waist height, and it wasn’t long until the ridge disappeared into the gentle hills around it. Inona startled when Delbin grabbed her wrist, tugging her gently to the left toward the sparsely forested slope.

“The house is back in the trees where this hill drops away,” he said.

Inona nodded, and after a brief hesitation, she pulled her arm away. She might enjoy his touch, but she needed her hands free for battle. With a quick smile, she started forward, her senses ranging wide. She could feel nothing from Kien, nor had there been any energy surges that would indicate a mage at work.

Had he escaped the truck sooner than they’d thought?

She detected nothing on the way to the old house, a two-story wooden structure with sagging shutters and paint peeling from the siding. The farmhouse had clearly seen better days, and yet… Inona’s eyes narrowed on a window beside the back door. A light.

With a gesture for Delbin to follow, she crept closer, only to jerk to a halt at the sound of a sharp bark. A dog? She scanned the area as Delbin froze beside her. There. Near the back corner, a dog was chained on a lead. The back door creaked open, and Inona strengthened the camouflage spell around herself and Delbin as a young man poked his head out.

“Hush, Ginger,” the man called. “I’ll be done in a few.”

The man retreated, the door slamming behind him.

“Did you read him?” she asked Delbin.

“Yeah. He bought the place a few weeks back and is working on a remodel.” Humor entered his mental voice. “He’s painting, so he left the dog outside. Seems he had to do a bit of cleanup last time he let Ginger in with him. Blue prints everywhere.”

Inona grinned at the mental image Delbin had sent with the words. Then her smile dropped. “Any hint of Kien?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t catch any thoughts about the dog barking sooner.”

A sigh hissed through her teeth. “Figures. Let’s circle around to the truck.”

Quietly, they worked their way around the house and through the forest bordering the driveway. By the time the truck came into sight, Inona was ready to kick something. Kien could’ve gone anywhere, and there was little hope of tracking him without a team of her fellow scouts to search in multiple directions.

She couldn’t take the time to hunt him herself. It was more vital to return to Moranaia with the information she’d gained about Kien’s actions. How much of this did Lord Lyr know? All of the scouts had been warned to watch for Kien and to apprehend him if possible. But they’d been given no other details. Rumors swirled about a confrontation, but there’d been nothing about a spell to destroy Earth’s energy. Regardless, this was too serious to assume Lyr knew about it.

Delbin leaned against the side of the truck, his steady regard focused on her. “Well? What’s next?”

Inona bit her lip. She needed to return Delbin to his proper home. No matter what happened, he deserved to know what had befallen his brother.

“We should go,” she sent to Delbin.

His eyes narrowed. “Shouldn’t we search a bit longer?”

“Not alone,” she answered with a shake of her head. “I have to report in and gather more scouts.”

Delbin studied her for a moment, his expression inscrutable, and then nodded. “When will you return?”

She crossed her arms. “You’ll know firsthand. You’re coming with me.”

Joy and dread collided within Delbin, and his heartbeat thumped hard in his ears as he stared at Inona. “I can’t,” he finally admitted.

“Excuse me?” she demanded.

He swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. “I was formally exiled. To return, I’ll have to face the Myern’s judgment, and I doubt he’ll feel favorable toward me after our deception. Especially if I level with him about all of the rules here I’ve…bent.”

Inona slid one knife back into her pocket. Then her hand darted out, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Did I give the impression that you have a choice?”

He froze, surprised by her hard tone. “Are you serious?”

“I believe you have information vital to Moranaia,” she answered. She tightened her grip on his wrist. “Judgment or not, you’re coming with me.”

Damn. Well, he hadn’t been that bad, right? He hadn’t hurt anyone. He’d probably be sent straight back to Earth, but he hadn’t done anything to warrant execution or an isolated exile. Hopefully. “I need to take the truck back to Grunge.”

Inona shook her head. “We’ll have to come back for that.”

“No.” She tugged at his wrist, but Delbin refused to budge. “I’m not going to cause Grunge trouble after all he’s done for me. That guy back at the house will be leaving soon, and if he spots this truck, he’ll have it towed. Maybe even call the police.”

Wincing, she let go. “Fine. If he won’t drive us back to the portal, we’ll walk. But if this is a plan to cause trouble, I’ll—”

“It’s not.” He smiled. “I promise I’ll return with you.”

“Let’s go, then.” Inona spun toward the truck. Then she paused, her hand on the edge of the truck bed as she peered over the side. “Hey, you don’t happen to have a jar, do you?”

Delbin blinked. “A…jar?”

“Blood has power,” she answered softly. “It’s a dangerous thing, blood magic, but having a sample of Kien’s could be useful for tracking.”

A chill washed through Delbin. “Allafon was rumored to dabble in blood magic.”

Inona eased closer and lifted her hand to Delbin’s cheek. “I promise it isn’t for that. I’d say it’s a danger to leave the blood of a powerful mage where anyone can find it. We’ll take the jar to Lord Lyr. He’s honorable.”

Was Lyr so trustworthy, then? Delbin had only met him a couple of times during his exile, before Lyr had stopped traveling to Earth to take his father’s place as Myern. Delbin didn’t know much about that, save that Lyr’s father had died abruptly. He’d seemed kind and fair during their interactions. But more importantly, Inona trusted him.

“Let me see what I can find,” Delbin said.

He gave her hand a squeeze and shifted away to search the clutter. There’d been a container full of Mason jars that Stephie had bought at a flea market for some craft project she’d seen on the Internet. Delbin moved a stack of bent metal poles and tossed aside the two old seat cushions beneath them. There. Quickly, he popped the latch securing the plastic box and lifted the lid just enough to snag a jar.

“Here it is,” Delbin called out, lifting the Mason jar high.

Inona stepped closer to peer at the glass. “Is that writing on the side?”

Delbin turned it so he could see the side. Then he smiled. “It’s just the name of the company that made the jar. Nothing mystical or anything.”

“Ah.” She considered the jar for a moment, then nodded. “It should work.”

After he handed the jar over, Inona unscrewed the lid and leaned over the side of the truck. But she didn’t scoop the blood in with her fingers as he’d expected. Instead, she waved her hand over the puddle, and Delbin’s breath caught at the sudden surge of energy flowing over him. The blood pooled together and lifted, floating like water droplets in space. The eerie red bubbles dropped into the jar without a splash.

“Well, that trick certainly makes cleaning easier,” he said as Inona secured the lid.

Despite the humor of the comment, she turned a serious glance his way. “You didn’t see such magics on Moranaia?”

Delbin shrugged. “Other stuff, sure. But I don’t remember that one. I was pretty young.”

Inona’s mouth tightened, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she strode around the truck and jerked the passenger door open. Delbin smiled as he moved to his own door. He’d never had someone be so indignant on his behalf before. It was…nice. But he made certain his expression settled into something more neutral by the time he climbed into his seat. He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the observation.