Thaumatology 11 - For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll Read online

  ‘You see those clouds ahead?’ Michael asked, having to raise his voice over the wind.

  Ceri looked past his shoulder toward the west. Thick, black clouds were boiling up like something out of a fantasy movie and obviously moving closer at a gathering pace. ‘I really don’t like the look of those,’ Ceri yelled back. ‘I feel like I’m an extra in Lord of the Rings and we’re climbing past Caradhras.’

  ‘We need to find shelter,’ Michael replied, not really getting the reference. ‘There was a cave about a hundred yards off the track about half a mile back.’

  Nodding, Ceri turned around to where Lily and Ophelia were waiting, the Sidhe huddled into herself and shivering. ‘We’re backing up to find shelter,’ Ceri shouted. ‘There’s a storm coming up from the west. Michael says there’s a cave a little way back along the track.’

  Lily nodded and started to turn. ‘I remember it. We’ll be there in under ten minutes.’

  Ceri glanced over her shoulder at the growing bank of black cloud. She could see the dusty shadow beneath it which had to be rain or snow. ‘I think that would be a good idea,’ she muttered, though she doubted anyone heard her.

  The cave mouth was not large, and the interior was very dark, but by the time they made it back along the path they could not hear each other over the wind and even Lily was starting to look uncomfortable in the cold. Hoping that the weather was not driving them into more trouble, they ducked their heads under the low roof of the cave’s entrance and slipped inside.

  Ceri came in last, drawing a line in the dust on the floor with her toe and then summoning up a weather-proof sphere of energy which managed to plug the entrance nicely. She turned and found Twill hovering not far into the low passage with a ball of glowing light hovering in the air beside her. ‘Careful,’ the fairy said. ‘The floor drops away a few feet in. Not too steeply, but you might stumble.’

  ‘Thanks, Twill.’ Ceri moved ahead and, sure enough, the ground dipped allowing her to stand upright. Another few yards and the cave became broader, opening out into a cavern wide enough for them all to gather in. Ishifa had a ball of light hovering beside her and, as Ceri walked in, Ophelia was setting a longer duration light spell on the ceiling a couple of feet above their heads. Ceri grinned at her. ‘So you do have some useful talents not involving talking.’

  The Sidhe grinned back. ‘I’m old enough that I’ve learned a few spells. Nothing like you, though.’

  ‘I just make it up as I go along.’

  ‘She does,’ Lily agreed, ‘but she’s really good at it. What do we do now? If we build a fire in here we’ll be breathing smoke in a few minutes.’

  Twill landed on Michael’s pack where he had put it down at the back of the cave. ‘We have food enough without cooking it. A storm like that can’t last long. We wait it out.’

  ‘Only thing we can do,’ Michael agreed, ‘but I’m not so sure about the storm. It smelled wrong.’ Ceri looked over and raised an eyebrow at her mate. ‘The wind, it smelled of magic.’

  ‘A storm that size,’ Ophelia said, ‘if it’s not natural it’d take a lot of power to form and maintain. Whoever did it won’t be able to keep it up for long.’

  ‘Let’s hope not,’ Ceri replied. ‘All right, let’s get the bedrolls out. We get out of these wet clothes and into warm bedding before we get too cold.’

  February 8th

  A thick blanket of snow was piling up against Ceri’s shield when they looked out the following morning, and the storm was driving more of it in, showing no sign of abating. ‘They must have a team of casters working to keep it going,’ Ceri said. ‘If they’ve enough of them, they could keep it going forever.’

  ‘Like Alexandra does with the pack?’ Michael asked.

  Ceri nodded. ‘Same principle. Each person lends a little power to the ritual. Practitioners can give more and, once the spell is running, they can take over to maintain it.’ She frowned. ‘This can’t be aimed at us, surely? I mean, what’s the point? How would they even know we’re here?’

  ‘You said they had spies in the palace,’ Michael reminded her.

  Ceri nodded and waved him back into the cave. ‘The storm’s still going,’ she said when they were back with the others. ‘Someone’s burning a lot of power to keep us holed up, and I don’t understand why?’

  ‘Maybe we’re not the reason for the storm,’ Ophelia suggested.

  ‘It seems like a remarkable coincidence,’ Twill replied.

  ‘And if it wasn’t directed at us,’ Michael added, ‘I’d have thought it would have gone past.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ceri agreed. ‘How someone who can arrange for a storm like this can think of us as a threat, I have no idea.’

  Ophelia looked at her with an expression of slightly confused amusement. ‘Are you always like this?’

  ‘Yes,’ Lily replied, ‘she is.’

  ‘Like what?’ Ceri asked, her voice carrying a hint of a whine.

  ‘Let’s see,’ Ophelia said, her index finger rising to tap thoughtfully on her lips. ‘You’re the only known, living sorceress. You’re Lady Ayasha, the Overlord of All Demons, and you wear the Iron Crown. You’re travelling with Lilith, Ayasha’s pet demon, and the two of you marched across half the Demon Realm defeating every enemy you came across, including a very powerful fae. And you want to know why they might consider you a threat?’

  ‘Oh. When you put it like that…’ Ceri turned back toward the cave mouth. ‘In that case, I’d better see about living up to my reputation.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Lily asked, her voice urgent.

  ‘I’m going to see if I can locate the ceremony they’re using and do something to stop it.’ Moving quickly up to where her shield was holding back the snow, she pushed the foot of her staff out into the open air beyond. The wind battered at it, even low to the ground, but it gave her physical contact with the magic beyond the shield. Focussing her will, she concentrated on locating the source of the spell. Like many things she tried, she had never done anything like this before, but it came easily after a few seconds. An image filled her mind; the interior of a tent of some sort, female figures sitting around a fire, chanting. She had it. The next part was going to be harder.

  Walking back into the cave, Ceri considered her options and came up with the only one which seemed even vaguely safe. ‘Lil, I need to borrow some power from you.’

  Lily beamed and moved closer, taking Ceri’s hand. ‘Of course. You know you don’t have to ask.’

  ‘Keep an eye on the entrance,’ Ceri said to Michael as she settled herself onto her bedroll, Lily sitting beside her. ‘This isn’t going to be easy.’ She closed her eyes and drew power through Lily, focussing it on the image she had seen in her mind, concentrating on projecting her awareness to that point. Her hands clenched as she forced her mind out along the path the storm had taken…

  Ceri’s eyes snapped open with a gasp. ‘Damn! This is harder than I thought.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Lily asked.

  ‘If I can project my awareness to the ritual site, I should be able to target spells there. It’s a lot of power and not easy to do.’

  Lily squeezed her hand. ‘You can do it, love. Just concentrate.’

  Closing her eyes again, Ceri did just as Lily suggested. One more try. What did she have to lose? If she could not manage it they would be stuck in the cave until… Her eyes flicked open, but instead of the cave, she was looking at the interior of a roughly made tent. Perhaps “yurt” would be the right name. Six women sat around the central fire, their hands touching. They were not human, and not the beautiful fae Ceri was so used to seeing. Deep, black eyes, long, hooked noses, sagging breasts, and weathered, pale, almost snow-white skin. These were hags, the females of the trolls. It made sense, they were noted for magical ability and far more brains than the males.

  Focussing on the one who seemed to be leading the chant, Ceri drew on her power and began to form her spell. She wanted something like a suggestion spell,
but with more force. She had never done anything like it, because this kind of spell would have been classed as very illegal if she had done it anywhere else. She bound the spell into the core of the hag’s mind; one, simple command which would, hopefully, disrupt the casting of the storm spell for a good, long time. She felt the spell settle into place and lock itself in, and just had time to see the hag turn and unleash a torrent of fire at her nearest neighbour, before letting herself snap back to the cave.

  Lily was panting. ‘Wow… you’ve never… drawn that much… power through… me before.’

  ‘You’re all right though?’

  ‘God yes! But I so want to fuck you now…’ The last came out as a whine.

  ‘Well, it’ll take a while for the storm to dissipate,’ Ceri said, grinning, ‘but I’m a little tired. Why don’t you do Ophelia instead?’ Lily’s grin became predatory and she started toward the Sidhe in a low crawl.

  ‘What?!’ Ophelia squeaked. ‘Here? Now? In front of everyone…?’ She trailed off as Lily’s hunting aura washed over her, energy pulsing up through her Tantric Median and pushing her libido into overdrive. Sinking back onto her bedroll, she let out a little whimper.

  Ceri lay down herself, grinning weakly, and waited for the moaning to start.

  ~~~

  The storm had cleared after about an hour, though there was still some lingering cold in the air, and the sky was now a clear blue. Once again the crows wheeled and soared on the wind which was back to a light breeze at ground level. They had managed to cover several miles before midday and the upward progression had given way to level ground, and then begun to edge downward.

  ‘You don’t think they’ll try to start the storm up again?’ Ophelia asked as they stopped to rest and eat.

  ‘Maybe,’ Ceri replied, ‘but I forced their lead caster to try to stop them ever casting that spell again. She started by slaughtering her assistants. I figure they’ll have to kill her to get her to stop.’

  ‘That’s nasty,’ Ophelia opined. She sounded rather pleased about it.

  ‘Not my proudest moment,’ Ceri replied.

  The Sidhe frowned at her and then nodded. ‘I guess. I’m Unseelie for a reason. I tend to like my enemies in a casket and I don’t have too many qualms about how I put them there. I should probably be glad you don’t think that way. So should you, as long as you’re willing to do what’s needed when you have to.’

  ‘She is,’ Lily stated flatly. ‘She waits until after to feel guilty about it.’

  ‘If I had your power,’ Ophelia said, ‘you’d probably have to hunt me down. No one else could stop me.’

  ‘It’s a good thing you don’t then,’ Ceri replied. She glanced at Lily. Lily had used armour that protected her from sorcery to get to Ceri in Battersea Power Station, past an army of dragons.

  ‘You’re looking pensive, dear,’ Twill commented.

  Ceri gave her a smile. ‘Just making a note of something I need to do when we get home.’

  ~~~

  By mid-afternoon they had made it to a rather steep, winding path which dropped from the upper edge of the eastern side of the High Glenn to the floor of it. At least they could see now why the fae had decided it was a good place to hold a battle.

  It was vast, stretching around a mile to the other wall of the pass and out of sight in either direction north and south. The ground was not entirely even, but there were large expanses of low grass which likely made it easier on the soldiers, and some large boulders dotting the land which the generals and such could hide behind.

  The other reason that the place was probably liked by armies with a high proportion of practitioners became apparent as soon as they got to the top of the path down and Ceri looked out across the Glenn with her Sight. There was a huge band of energy flowing north to south through the middle of the pass; a ley line, and a big one. Power appeared to be leaking off it like a river overflowing its banks, rushing out across the land, and actually breaking against the walls like a wave against a sea wall.

  ‘My God,’ Ceri said as they descended into the magical maelstrom down the path, ‘this place is absolutely humming. You feel that, Lily?’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Lily replied, her voice a little breathy. Ceri looked back to see faint red sparks in her demon’s eyes.

  ‘I can smell it,’ Michael said. ‘Smells more… earthy than magic usually does. Kind of basic.’

  ‘That probably explains why Lily looks about ready to jump someone’s bones then,’ Ceri suggested.

  Ophelia let out a squeak. ‘I did her this morning!’

  ‘You’re safe,’ Ceri replied, looking back at the ley line. ‘Or rather, it wouldn’t be safe to let her go on you again. That line is… like raw, natural power. Like Michael said. Lily feels it as something sexual, Michael’s probably feeling his wolf, looks like Twill and Ishifa are feeling frisky.’ The two fairies had lifted from Michael’s shoulders and were darting down the path ahead of the group and back again excitedly.

  ‘I don’t really feel it,’ Ophelia said. ‘Too civilised, I guess. What are you feeling?’

  ‘Power,’ Ceri replied. ‘A whole lot of power. My skin’s tingling and…’ She looked around at Ophelia again and saw the woman’s eyes widen. ‘Yeah, my eyes are doing the glowing blue thing again, aren’t they?’ Ophelia nodded slowly. Lily just licked her lips; Ceri could feel her pet’s arousal over their link. Ceri frowned and turned back to watch the path ahead.

  ‘Maybe we should reconsider this,’ Ophelia suggested. ‘Lily’s getting really tense and if we go through the pass to the other side we may run into Discord’s forces. And if we camp in the pass…’

  ‘I might eat someone,’ Lily growled, finishing Ophelia’s sentence.

  ‘Yeah, that.’

  ‘We’ll walk through,’ Ceri said, her voice firm. ‘I don’t think they’ll be so close to the pass and I don’t want to go back now.’

  The ley line, quite visible in Ceri’s Sight, was nevertheless underground, which they were thankful for. If Lily had had to walk through it she would have had a lot of trouble keeping herself under control. As it was she was trembling by the time they reached one of the pathways on the western side. They still had to walk almost half a mile up the gentle slope before the half-succubus pulled in a lungful of air as though it had suddenly become fresher.

  Ceri turned, looking back. She could see the field lines lapping at Ophelia’s feet, but they were basically clear of the intensified field. She glanced up at Lily.

  ‘Your eyes are back to normal,’ Lily said, ‘and I feel just normally horny.’ She grimaced. ‘I could do with washing a little though, or my thighs are going to chafe.’

  ‘Eww!’ Ophelia whined from behind her. ‘I don’t need to know that!’

  Ceri smiled at them both, relieved to be free of the oppressive magic field. ‘We’ll find somewhere to camp as soon as we can.’

  There was a depression in the rocks another quarter of a mile uphill with a curtain of bushes around the edge which provided some cover. They would need to double up on the watches and stay low, but it would do. Lighting a fire would have just given their position away, so they put their bedrolls close together and Ceri put up a weather shield around them. Lily was naked inside of fifteen minutes and using a little water to clean herself up.

  ‘That field really had you worked up,’ Ophelia commented.

  ‘It was like walking through a bath of sex pheromones,’ Lily replied, wiping at her calves. ‘Went straight to the primitive parts of my brain, the most demon bits.’ She looked up. ‘I’ll take first watch, sleeping isn’t going to be an option for a while.’

  ‘I’ll stay up with you,’ Ceri said.

  Lily looked around at her. ‘I’m okay, you know?’

  ‘Who says I am?’

  ‘I know it triggered that eye thing, but…’

  ‘You’re not the only one with alien DNA and aspects of your primitive brain that have a few… peculiar wrinkles. I’m feeling very, um, assert
ive.’

  Lily grinned and gave a little giggle. ‘Should I have brought the chains and whips?’

  ‘Yes, but not for now. You know how you used to refuse to be dominant when your demon side was playing up? Same thing. I’m not letting my dragon dictate my actions.’

  ‘Very wise,’ Twill commented, and Michael reached out to squeeze Ceri’s shoulder.

  ‘Times like this,’ Ophelia said, ‘when I’m glad I’m “just” a fae.’

  February 9th

  Ceri’s eyes flicked open and she sat up, her blanket falling away from her. Something had crossed into the alarm zone she had set up before going to sleep. Michael had noticed it as well; he was already in fur, tense and ready. Ophelia was looking frantically around, a dagger in her hand. Ceri heard the Sidhe’s breath catch and turned to look where she was looking.

  Standing at the edge of the clearing was a wolf. Larger than average, it had very dark fur. On Earth, black wolves were actually the result of interbreeding with domestic dogs which had been the first to develop the melanistic gene. Ceri had learned the information while reading up on werewolf pack behaviour and the differences between that and wolves. Black werewolves, however, were the purest blooded, and here black wolves were the fae version of the wild animals. This was no ordinary wolf.

  The creature’s lip curled and it gave a soft growl. Ceri frowned; the sound seemed almost decipherable and she looked over at Michael. Michael growled back, and she understood what he said. We mean no harm, brother.

  Lily sat up, slowly, her eyes on the wolf. Ceri focussed, listening hard, and this time the wolf’s voice made sense. You hunt? It was quite like werewolf, in the same way French and Italian had similar sounds and basic structures.

  Hunt fae, Michael replied. Bad fae.

  ‘Is he talking to it?’ Ophelia whispered.

  ‘Yes,’ Lily replied. ‘And he’s a him, not an it.’ The wolf settled back onto his haunches, sitting down. His eyes turned on Ophelia and Lily, and the Sidhe swallowed hard.

  Fae, demon, man, wolf. Strange pack.