“Tell him the truth of the witch working, sister,” Pearl said.
Opal leaned in slightly and her voice lowered, more like wind in a large reed flute than wind chimes. “Soul shouldnothave been able to be captured and contained in a crystal. She alone has a witch working that keeps her free. Therefore, she is there by her will and her choice, for many reasons, only some of which we may know, and some of which we may not.”
“Would the speaker of the negotiation tell us those reasons,” Rick asked, talking as strangely as the dragons.
The dragons leaned into each other, silent, Opal gesturing with one hand.
Pearl leaned back and said, “We think she was taken in human form, and could not shift to escape without being caught in the crystal. She was captured with a Dog of War. For reasons we do not understand, she later shifted shape and was captured in a crystal. She has a working to escape from her crystal and yet has not escaped. Perhaps she allowed herself to be taken as a lure, so that you will follow and find and save her and the dogs. Or perhaps her witch working is no longer effective.”
Opal added, “Soul is She Who Guards the Rift and also Keeper of the Rift, as well as many other titles of honor. She said that vampires and humans have a powerful item that the vampires want and so does she. She has been searching for another rift, and it is believed that the item might guide her to one. We think…” She stopped and looked at her sisters. There was more silent communication. ESP.
There was a time when I didn’t believe in ESP, until the land and the Green Knight started talking to me in my brain.
Pearl picked back up. “Soul has been searching for a magical item she calls the cursed deck. There is a small possibility that it is in the cave system, hidden. Perhaps this was the only way that the Keeper of the Rift could get the drinkers of blood to bring her to their lair.”
“Yes,” Rick said, sounding as if he understood and agreed with their words. “Sunset is approaching. Are you able to follow time as humans do?” he asked. “Hours and minutes?”
“We understand your limited concept of time. It is sixteen ofyour minutes until sunset. At dusk, the vampires young enough to still be asleep will awaken. It would be best if they were staked by then.”
Aya smiled, showing wolf teeth, and made a low-key growl of agreement.
“Yes, it would,” Rick said. “We will enter through the door here in three minutes.”
“We three will enter from the back of the air cave. Beware the small star.”
In a blink, they were gone.
“Small star?” T. Laine asked.
Rick unrolled the scroll again and placed it on the ground at FireWind’s paws. He pointed to a tiny star on the paper. “I don’t know what it means, but once we’re in, and the vampires have been immobilized, check it for abnormal energies.”
“Underground, it felt like a ley line,” I said. “I figured T.—Kent would look into it after.”
“Nice,” she said, and her face, which was usually pugnacious, was lit with anticipation.
“For now,” Rick said, “check the doors for energy traps.”
T. Laine tossed a small amulet at the doors, opening aseeingworking. We could all see what she saw, which was wood and old nails, but nothing magical. She bent over the doors, running her hands over each board and each crack, touching, feeling for dangers no one else could spot. “This side of the door is okay. Can’t tell you what’s on the other side, like maybe a fishing line attached to a handle on that side, with a bomb on the other end, or a shotgun, or any number of things. We know people are on the other side. If I blow the doors off like I did at the abandoned house in town, I could hurt someone inside.”
“And there was a small cave filled with water there, where the star is, the ley line they said was bad.” I pointed to the map. “If we disturb the ground here, it’s possible we might create an opening and flood the cave where the hostages are.” I shrugged. “Or not.”
“Everyone to the sides,” LaFleur said. “I’ll use a crowbar from the top.”
We repositioned as the senior special agent in charge of Tennessee and seven other states, as well as Unit Eighteen, walked through the reedy weeds with a faint whisper of sound, movinggracefully, like the cat he had become, his white hair catching the tints of sunset. He was dressed in black jeans, a black shirt, and a tac vest with weapons enough to fight off a horde of mythological beings. Orcs or something.
Rick climbed the small hill and lay on his stomach, with his upper body draped down, near the top of the doors. T. Laine followed him and lay down beside him. She opened aprotectionworking that we could all see in the glow of theseeingamulet that was still on the ground. “It won’t be total protection, because the crowbar will make a constant break in the ward, but it will be better than nothing.”
“I’ll only lose my hands, not my head?” Rick said, his tone darkly amused.
“Pretty much,” she said.
Rettell growled.
“Best I can do, cat-woman,” Lainie said.
Rettell stepped to the left of the door, ducking behind the edge of the hill, weapon in hand. She was dressed like Rick, black clothing and tactical gear.
FireWind took position to the doors’ right, hunched low, ruff bristled high, shoulders tight, to leap into any fray. Occam and I got low to the ground, covered our ears, and opened our mouths to deal with possible concussive results.
