Koltak winced at the reminder. He’d resented being excluded from the wizards chosen for the task because of his “family connections.” Afterward, he’d been grateful that he wasn’t among the wizards disgraced by their failure to seal that garden.
“But…” He looked around to confirm that they were the only ones on the top of the tower. Still, he lowered his voice. “What about the shadow?”
Harland nodded. “A warning, certainly, that something dark and dangerous has grown powerful enough to threaten Ephemera’s landscapes.” He paused. “For fifteen years, the council has feared this day would come, but we had hoped she would never become strong enough for this warning to appear. It would seem our hopes were in vain.”
Koltak whispered, “Belladonna.”
“Yes,” Harland said. “Belladonna. An enemy who could destroy everything we have protected—unless she is destroyed first.”
“She has eluded us for fifteen years! Most wizards can’t even cross over into any landscape under her control, even in the company of a Bridge. How are we supposed to find someone we haven’t even seen in fifteen years?”
“I don’t know,” Harland said bitterly. “But we must find a way.” He reached out and gripped Koltak’s shoulder. “Tell no one about the shadow. Say nothing about what you have seen. I must meditate on this warning before discussing it with the rest of the council. We do not want to spread alarm among the students and younger wizards.”
Will you even mention me when you speak with the council? “I understand.”
Harland released Koltak and headed for the door that led to the stairs that curved along the inside wall of the tower. Then he paused and looked back. “The apprentice you sent to fetch me. Did he see the shadow?”
Koltak shook his head. “But he’s clever enough to realize I wouldn’t have sent him to fetch you at this hour if there wasn’t a reason.”
“Is he trustworthy?”
Koltak hesitated, then shook his head again. “He has a braggart’s tongue and a fool’s lack of discretion. He had just enough potential to be admitted for formal training, but even after three years, he can barely undo a simple barrier.” Something Sebastian had been able to do with no training at all. He buried that thought. The power had lain dormant all these years. Sebastian had no reason to believe he had that kind of power. Unless something happened that gave the council a reason to demand testing, no one would ever know his offspring was anything more than an incubus.
“I see,” Harland said. He studied Koltak. “Why were you up here this morning?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I came up here to think.”
Harland stared at him for a long time. “Fortuitous.”
“Yes.”
After the tower door closed behind Harland, Koltak turned back to look at the land. Sunlight and natural shadows obscured the warning.
At least the warning had been seen and understood. And the wizards would not fail again. They would find a way to contain—or eliminate—Belladonna before she destroyed Ephemera.
Busy busy busy. Humans were always so busy. The Dark currents flowed through so many hearts in this city, but there were enough threads of Light to keep some of the best prey from abandoning this place. Even though It was eager to contact the minds with the darkest resonance, It couldn’t resist stretching out Its mental tentacles through the lower part of the city to play with some of the hearts nurtured by those threads of Light.
Yes, It whispered to one of those hearts. Yes, the butcher has cheated you, put his thumb on the scale to charge you the full price for less meat. But you are nothing, nobody, insignificant. No one will believe you if you accuse him—and if you do accuse him, he will not sell you meat anymore, and your family will go hungry.
It felt the Light in that heart dim, replaced with the despair that often overtook such hearts when the truth was skewed a little. There would be less kindness in that heart today, and the ripples of unhappiness would be felt by every person the woman encountered. Those hearts would also be dimmed a little. And the threads of Light in the city would become a little weaker, making the Dark more powerful.
It played with Its prey as Its tentacles brushed the minds and hearts of the humans in the marketplace.
Then It brushed against a section of the city where the Dark and Light were woven together in such a way that the currents formed a barrier It couldn’t breach. The Dark currents didn’t quite resonate with the rest of the city, but the barrier hid the resonance of whatever power controlled that portion.
Tantalized and uneasy, It withdrew from that part of the city and stretched Its mental tentacles toward the two minds It had felt earlier that morning. One mind was barricaded behind walls of self-discipline, but the other was so distracted, slipping inside that mind was as easy as slipping into a dream.
Koltak stared out his sitting room window.
Harland had been so certain that Belladonna and her unnatural power was the reason for the warning. But…
A shadow is the warning.
Belladonna was an enemy to wizards and Landscapers alike, and certainly a danger to Ephemera, but only for the past fifteen years. Wizards had been keeping watch for generations. The tower was the oldest structure in Wizard City, had been built on this hill so that whoever stood at the top could see all of the surrounding countryside. Could keep watch.
For what? his mind whispered.
Not Belladonna, despite what Harland believed. Wizards had disposed of her kind of Landscaper before. They would find a way to dispose of her, too. No, he didn’t believe she and those like her in previous generations were the reason the wizards kept watch year after year after year.
Then why?
Koltak rubbed his forehead, remembering the feverish glitter in Harland’s eyes that revealed some strong emotion the man was otherwise able to control. And yet…
It wasn’t like Harland to dismiss the other possibility of danger. And they all knew there was another possibility. Every wizard who had walked around the Landscapers’ School had felt that core of evil hidden by all the currents of Light that flowed through the school. Every person who lived in Ephemera’s shattered landscapes knew the story about how the Guardians of Light and Guides of the Heart had found a way to cage the Eater of the World and the creatures It had shaped. The magic had been powerful, had been meant to last forever. The Guardians and Guides had disappeared in the making of that cage. Not destroyed, but no longer able to walk in the world. People believed they still existed, still listened to the heart’s deepest wishes and worked through the currents of power to make those wishes real.
But it was the Landscapers who controlled Ephemera now, keeping the landscapes stable despite the flood of emotions that poured out of human hearts. And somewhere in the maze of gardens and buildings at the school were walls even older than the tower.
Why had Harland refused to consider the possibility?
This possibility must have a name, his mind whispered. You’re not afraid to speak the name, are you?
No, he wasn’t afraid, and he wasn’t afraid to look at a truth Harland didn’t want to consider. There was only one reason for keeping watch all these years: to see the warning in time to defend themselves if the Eater of the World returned.
Koltak turned away from the window, then rummaged through his desk for a headache powder. It wasn’t surprising he felt a little strange after a sleepless night and the events of this morning.
Cursing softly when he realized he had nothing in his room and would have to go down to the dispensary, he sank into his desk chair, still rubbing his forehead.
Harland had been thrown off balance this morning. That was understandable. Given a little time to think, he would realize the necessity of going to the school and discussing the hidden garden with the Landscapers.
After all, if something had happened to break the magic that had caged the Eater and Its landscapes, everyone’s survival was at stake.
It flowed into the woods north of t
he city, where Its presence would be lost among other shadows.
It had learned much over the years from the human prey that had stumbled into Its landscapes—especially from the humans who were, themselves, predators. It had learned to take the shape of Its favorite before It had destroyed the sanity of the middle-aged, elegant gentleman who had enjoyed killing women so viciously.
It had learned. And now It understood that the spawn of the Dark Ones had known about the hated stone wall. They had known where the garden was hidden. They had found a way to send prey into Its landscapes, but they had never tried to free It. Caged, It had been a useful tool.
But It was not a tool to be used by the Dark Ones’ spawn. It was the Eater of the World. When It returned to the city, they would want to be Its friends.
But before It left this landscape to deal with the enemies at the school, It would show the Dark Ones’ spawn why they wanted to be Its friends.
With Teaser beside him, Sebastian strode down the Den’s main street feeling itchy, angry, ready to hunt. He was dressed for it, primed for it—the bad boy on the strut. As he studied the street, he realized how shabby everything had gotten in the past few years. The windows on the shops and taverns were grimy, the alleys smelled of piss, and the colored lights that had made him think of a carnival when he’d first come to the Den were dulled by layers of dirt. Like an old whore still trying to dress up to prove she was desirable.
But this was his home; this was his life; this was all he had and would ever have. This.
He wanted to smash things, break things, wound and rage, because somehow, after thirty years of living, this was all he deserved.
More than anything, he wanted to hurt someone.
That was when he saw the young woman creeping out of an alley, every movement shrieking of fear.
And the small something inside him that had been struggling to survive since he’d come back from Wizard City suddenly yearned for her, craved her with enough strength to knock the ugly feelings churning in him off balance for a moment. Then everything inside him focused on her. Just her.
Teaser tipped his head and studied her. “Huh. Look at that. A country mouse fresh off the farm.”
More like a rabbit who has bolted straight into a pack of wolves. Sebastian’s mouth watered at the thought.
Teaser tipped his head to the other side, considering. “Maybe not so fresh. If she smells like she looks, not even the incubi will want a taste before she’s washed up. Guess I’ll just—”
Sebastian whipped one arm out, forming a barrier in front of Teaser. “Mine.”
“On the way here, you said you wanted someone with some kick and bite. You’re not going to get much of anything from that one.”
“This one is mine.”
He approached her slowly, more a stalk than a walk, giving her time to notice him. She glanced at the alley, then back at him, unable to decide if it was safer to stay or run. She didn’t want to go back into the alley where it was dark and smelly, but if she stayed he’d be on top of her. Stay or run?
Poor, foolish little rabbit. She didn’t realize yet the decision had already been made.
He smiled at her—and put everything he was into that smile.
She didn’t smile back. She just stared at him as if he were the vilest demon she had ever seen.
Which was probably true.
“This your first visit?” he asked pleasantly.
“What?”
“Is this your first visit to the Den?” Of course it was. She wouldn’t look so bewildered if she’d been here before, but so often the hayseeds liked to pretend they weren’t as ignorant as everyone here knew they were. That pretending was one of the reasons some of them didn’t survive long enough to go home again.
“Den?”
“The Den of Iniquity.” Sebastian bared his teeth in a smile. “Not quite what you expected?”
If she was frightened before, she was terrified now. “I don’t belong here. I can’t belong here. It’s a mistake.” She looked at him, her blue eyes pleading. “Please. It’s a mistake.”
He shook his head. “No one comes to the Den by mistake. By accident, certainly, but not by mistake. You got here, which means something inside you resonated with this place.”
“No,” she whispered. “No.”
She looked ready to collapse. If he didn’t get her calmed down, she wouldn’t be any fun at all.
“My name’s Sebastian. What’s yours?”
“Lynnea.”
“Pretty name.” And the way she pronounced it—Lyn NEA—gave it a softer, richer sound.
Even exhausted and bedraggled, she was pretty in a wholesome way that made him uneasy. He could picture warming her up enough to enjoy a steaming-hot roll between the sheets—and he could picture holding her in his arms for an easy kiss and a snuggle.
That bothered him. A lot.
“Why don’t we go to Philo’s?” Sebastian said. “It’s just down the street. You look like you could use some food.”
“Oh.” She raised her hands to her light-brown hair in an automatic, feminine gesture. “Oh, I couldn’t. I’m…” Looking down at the dirty, short-sleeved tunic and ankle-length skirt, she wrinkled her nose.
“It’s an open courtyard. You’ll be fine.” He held out a hand. She shrank away from it, which made him angry, but he kept an easy smile on his face. Before he was finished with her, she would beg him to put his hands on her and have her in any way he wanted.
As he let that thought fill him, the something inside him that was struggling against the ugly feelings withered.
“Come on,” he said. He shifted just enough to block any attempt she might make to rabbit back down the alley. Seeing no choice, she eased away from the wall and walked down the street, with him a half step behind her so that he could catch her if she tried to bolt.
With this strange mood riding him, he wasn’t sure what he’d do to her if she tried to get away from him.
By the time he herded her to Philo’s, Teaser was already there, doing a live performance with a succubus. The handful of statues scattered among the tables in the courtyard were all sexually explicit and painted with such detail it took careful study to be sure they weren’t real. There were also two small platforms for the “live art.”
At the moment, Teaser and the succubus were holding a pose. His shirt was open and tugged off his shoulders; his hands were on her hips. One of her legs hooked around his waist, her back was arched, and one hand reached for the zipper of his leather trousers. In a few seconds they would follow through on the moves before striking another pose.
“Those statues look so real,” Lynnea said, her eyes wide. “But…what are they doing?”
Figuring it was better not to shock the little rabbit too much, he guided her to the only available table and pulled out a chair for her that put her back to Teaser’s performance.
Philo bustled up to their table, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to the elbows in a concession to the warm summer night. His smile of welcome faltered when he looked at Lynnea, and when he turned to Sebastian there was a bleakness in his dark eyes that was too much like Teaser’s expression back at the cottage.
Philo was good at assessing his customers, at judging the outcome of a pairing. Which was why the man was dismayed to see him there with a female who was so obviously prey. The kind of female who would get chewed up by the incubi’s seductive games and end up throwing herself in a river out of shame or despair.
It rankled that Philo seemed disappointed in him, almost fearful. The man had no right to judge him. And it was none of Philo’s damn business whom he spent the night with.
He stared at Philo, holding the man’s gaze with the force of his will until Philo looked away, uneasy.
Giving them both a weak smile, Philo said, “Will you be having the Phal—”
“Your specialty of bread and warm cheese,” Sebastian cut in. If his little rabbit knew what “phallic” meant, she’d probably ru
n down the street screaming. And that wasn’t the way he wanted her to scream. “And wine.”
Philo hurried away, ignoring calls from other tables.
“Wine?” Lynnea said, shaking her head. “I can’t. Only…bad women drink liquor.”
Well, wasn’t she just little miss prissy prig? He’d change that. Oh, yes. Before he let her go, he was going to change a great many things. “Wine isn’t liquor; it’s wine. No civilized meal is complete without it.”
She frowned, and as she tried to wrap her mind around that thought, he noticed how exhausted she was. Not just dirty and scared, but truly exhausted. If it had been that hard to reach the Den, why had she tried at all?
Philo returned with a tray. He set a bowl in front of each of them that contained a small wet cloth, placed a dry hand towel beside the bowls, then put two glasses of red wine on the table and left.
Sebastian felt the tension inside him ease a little. Trust Philo to understand the female ego. The little rabbit wouldn’t want to eat with dirty hands, but by providing towels for both of them, he wasn’t commenting on Lynnea’s appearance.
Plucking his towel from the bowl, Sebastian rubbed it over his hands, the movement releasing a light citrus scent. Lynnea watched for a moment, then copied him. She folded the towel neatly before putting it back in the bowl.
Folding his own towel, Sebastian leaned toward her and said, “You’ve got a smudge on your cheek.” In truth, her whole face was dirty, but he wanted a reason to touch her that would seem innocent—to her mind, anyway. As he stroked the towel down her cheek, he had a lot of thoughts about that touch. None of them were innocent.
With a little coaxing, he got her to take a sip of the wine. By her third sip she didn’t need coaxing anymore, and he felt relieved when Philo returned with two small plates, a basket full of chunks of bread, and the bowl of melted cheese. On an empty stomach, it wouldn’t take much wine to get his little rabbit thoroughly sloshed, and he wanted her relaxed, not unconscious.