“What does your locator fob say?” Eli asked.
She pulled the small box out, opened it, and simply stopped. The crystal inside nearly took her breath away. It was a quartz crystal in its natural form, clear as diamond, but with slight magnification properties. “Wow.” She touched it and felt the faintest sizzle of energy inside. That energy pulled her hard off the road in a direction where the land fell off downhill fast. Like it was the end of the world. Liz clipped the crystal on its split ring to a carabiner on her belt and pointed downhill. “That way. ‘Second star to the right.’ ”
“ ‘And straight on till morning.’ ” Eli finished the quote while checking their position on an old-fashioned compass.
Liz grinned but said nothing. Either he was aStar Trekfan, aPeter Panfan, or he’d been watching movies with the kids. Liz was betting on the latter.
“Any idea of distance, or are we just gonna whistle and call Rover all day?” The words bordered on snark, but his tone was relaxed and calmer than she’d heard it in weeks.
As a stone witch, Liz might be able to get something more specific thanGolda’s “within three miles.” She closed her eyes and concentrated. She smiled, then frowned. “About a mile, down the hill, that way, and moving away from us.” She pointed, getting a flash of the blood-curse taint still on her skin. She dropped her arm. At least it had never gotten any worse.
Eli gave a faint grunt that could have meant anything and began removing their gear from his SUV. Liz slid into the straps of the backpack, hung her own binoculars around her neck, took her walking stick in one hand, and by the time she was done, Eli was fully kitted out in his guns and blades and heavy pack. Dang. That was fast. “All clear?” he asked Chewy.
Chewy looked over his shoulder and said, “All clear. Get out of sight before I pull off. Black man with guns. Be careful.”
“Always am. We’ll be out of sight in two mikes.”
“Call when you need exfil, Hoss,” the old vet said.
They shut the SUV hatch and doors. “Let’s get out of sight,” Eli said, “Chewy’s right. Black man with guns is considered a clear and present danger, especially in backwoods North Carolina.”
“Unless you’re with Yellowrock.”
“Being with her makes things easier and harder.” He didn’t elaborate. She didn’t ask. They started downhill, walking in the path of the car that had gone over the railing, taking out the thick underbrush that grew near the road. And down. And way down, fast, for about thirty feet until it flattened out just a bit.
When they were out of sight from the road, Chewy pulled away and they were on their own. Eli stopped again and took in the location of the mountain peaks, compared their location to a topo map on his cell before pocketing the cell. He asked, “Does your magical crystal see an exact trail, or does it just show what direction the dog is now and which way to go.”
“I don’t—” She stopped. “Let me try something.” She lifted the crystal with her left hand, touched a blue-and-green chrysocolla bead on her necklace with her right hand, and opened aseeingworking. The magic stored inside the crystal pointed off to the left and directly down. “Nice. Okay. The workings are compatible. No direct trail, just a location and current movement. A mile that way as the crow flies, moving parallel to the bottom of the gorge, but slower than before and still away from us.”
“How did that just work?” he asked.
“I used aseeingworking to follow the magic tying the crystal to the amulet on the dog.”
“So not something a mundane could use.” His tone was asking for clarification of a supposition.
Liz frowned slightly. “On your own? Without a witch? Maybe. With some modifications and an additional amulet or two.” Or with a witch and physical contact. Like holding hands. “I’ll think about it.”
Eli put away his toys and led the way down. And down. Anddown. She had to grab trees to stop wild careening slips that would have sent her rolling like a ball. She had to stab her walking stick into the ground and use it like a lever to hold herself in place. She was noisy and breathless, while Eli moved almost silently, was alert to everything around them and above them, and stepped downhill with his usual economy. He might as well have been on flat land. It was disgusting.
He never looked at her, but somehow she knew he was aware of her every noisy move. When her hand missed a tree, he caught her lower arm and swung her to the right into a bigger tree. She leaned against it and just breathed for a bit, but it was hot and muggy and even with the elevation, gnats and no-see-ums were everywhere. One flew into her eye, and as if that was a command, others flew into her mouth. Which started a coughing fit, her eyes watering. She held up a finger and the gnat finally flushed out, but the damage to her lungs made her coughing last longer than she wanted. Between racking coughs, she risked a look at Eli. He didn’t look worried or pitying, which helped mitigate the awkwardness of what felt like a terrible weakness. When the fit passed, Liz dug into the backpack pocket and pulled out a hat with netting, her sunglasses, and the jacket, and reapplied sunscreen with bug repellent. The last coughs passed while she dressed.
Eli asked, “You got a respiratory inhaler?”
“Yeah. And a dozen healing charms.” She pointed to her necklace. “The orange ones are for things like broken bones and major lacerations. If for some reason you need to activate one for either of us, put a little of the injured person’s blood or saliva on it and wrap it in place over the area. Or drop one into a wound before you bandage it. They’re easy for a doc tofeel if they need to be removed later. If I need to use one for my breathing”—she pointed to three purple ones—“I’ll put one in my mouth like a lozenge. But I’m okay for now.”
Eli gave a spare nod and turned back to look out over the terrain.
Liz breathed. And wondered if this gig was worth the money.
Chapter Three
Eli
From midway down the hill, he called the damn dog, even though the mutt was clearly a hard hike away. He watched for movement of scrub at dog height in the general direction she’d pointed, and he called and whistled, while keeping an eye on Lizzie, giving her a chance to rest. Her breathing leveled out quickly enough that he knew she wasn’t in distress. She had handled the terrain better than he’d expected. He’d heard about the boulder falling on her, crushing her chest cavity. Her own sister had done that. And she’d survived.
He called out again, “Rover! Here, boy! Rooooover!” Stupid name for a damn dog. To Lizzie he said, “You ready to move on?”
“If that’s a euphemism for dying, then nope. If it’s referring to the fact that the earth disappears about twenty feet that way”—she gestured to the line ahead where the earth vanished—“then sure. That looks really easy. Like a stroll in the park. Or maybe like falling off a cliff.”
