Master of Honor (Merlin's Legacy 5) Page 6

  Well shit, she had a point. “Then you should damn well spill what you know. Talk to me!”

  “I would if I could!” she snapped back.

  Furious, simmering, they glared at each other.

  Chapter Four

  Valac? Hivemother’s mental voice slid into his consciousness, frigid as liquid methane. What has you so agitated, my Scout?

  Valac almost fell out of the air. He wrenched his wings wide, arresting his fall. He’d been riding the air currents for hours seeking the Errul, but she seemed to have vanished off the planet. I have found a suitable prey world. There are more than seven billion intelligences here, and billions more minor life.

  A find indeed. Her mental voice took on a menacing rattle. That does not explain your agitation or why you have not called for the Hive to feast.

  If he wasn’t careful, Hivemother might decide he’d put them all at risk and call him home. He’d die in screaming torment.

  The rattle grew louder, faster, more menacing. I do not hear an explanation.

  The Vengeance of the Errul is here.

  An astonished silence fell before she finally spoke again. Ridiculous. We slew her countless orbits ago.

  Yes, I was in on the kill. And almost died with the others. But it seems we did not kill her after all. I tasted her magic, and there is no doubt. She is Errul -- either the Vengeance herself, or one so like her as to make no difference.

  A clatter rose, sharp with agitation. Then you must find her. Kill her, and you will be rewarded. The next clutch will be your get. Her voice took on that chilling rattle again. But if you fail, you had best fall in battle, or you will face me. You have two turns.

  With that, the great chill presence slid away into the dark, and Valac panted in relief. He lived, at least for two more turns.

  He did not have much time to find the Vengeance.

  * * *

  Why did you let him take us here, Gaia? Cheryl demanded, shoveling in another forkful of lasagna, less from hunger than to keep her mouth too full for further questioning. If I don’t give them something, the Magekind are going to break out the magic thumbscrews.

  They won’t do anything we can’t withstand.

  Easy for you to say.

  We’re safer here. The scout can’t reach us in the Mageverse, and he’s too busy looking for us to kill mortals.

  We can at least tell Ulf why we can’t tell him. Alys faces this kind of Seer’s dilemma all the time. He’ll understand, and he’d persuade them to back off.

  I looked at that future. He has a confrontation with Arthur, Arthur decides he can’t be trusted to hold us and puts us in Morgana’s custody, and we can’t escape when we need to. That sets up the very event cascade I’m trying to avoid.

  The future I see involves Morgana and magical waterboarding. Or are you going to give me gills?

  Before Gaia could answer -- assuming she intended to -- Ulf frowned at the kitchen’s huge stained-glass window. “Sun’s going to be coming up soon. When it does, it’s going to knock me cold. We’d better get to bed.”

  Despite herself, heat bloomed in Cheryl’s belly. She felt more than a little disgusted at herself, especially considering he thought she’d been possessed by a murdering monster. But when she remembered his hot, velvet lips suckling her nipples, his cock stroking deep in her clenching cunt, that glorious vault into orgasm, she knew exactly why she was so tempted. No matter how their minds clashed, their bodies were in perfect sync.

  She realized he was staring at her, a dark little smile playing around that Casanova mouth.

  “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

  As disappointment spiraled through her, he rose from the table. Cheryl gave serious thought to flipping him off. Instead she ground her teeth together and stood to follow him down the hallway. When they passed a pair of crossed axes hanging on the wall, he looked back at her a little warily.

  “You don’t get many prisoners, do you?” she asked dryly.

  “If I did, this place wouldn’t be an armory.” He shook his head and kept going.

  Ulf escorted her to one of the guest suites. The room was even more flamboyantly fairytale than the rest of the house, with little flourishes added by the parade of baby witches he’d educated over the years. The circular bed was set in a cave-like stone nook in the wall. Shimmering brocade drapes half concealed its plump mattress.

  A rocking chair with embroidered cushions occupied one corner, beside a floor lamp positioned for reading. Arched, stained-glass windows spilled multicolored light across the room, thanks to spots pointed at them from outside the house. Bookshelves lined the remaining wall space, filled with volumes on Mageverse magical theory and techniques. Strolling around the room, she saw Morgana’s and Gwen’s names on the spines, along with those of assorted other witches.

  She stopped and picked up one on magical combat strategy, her brows lifting at the name on the cover. “I’m amazed Arthur has time to write. You’d think being such a dickhead would keep him too busy.”

  “Cheryl,” Ulf chided.

  Glancing around, she asked, “Speaking of magical combat, what happened to all the weapons that used to be in here? There should be a couple of suits of armor and…” Realization hit. “Opal Cheryl-proofed the room.”

  “Probably right after you tried to slit my throat with my own rapier.” He rolled his eyes. “Should have done the rest of the house while she was at it.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be safe with me here?” Cheryl asked with a little bit more bite in her voice than she’d intended. “Given you’re completely helpless once the sun comes up.”

  Leaning against the doorframe, he merely looked amused. “Are you suggesting you’d kill me in my sleep? I don’t think Adam would approve.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.” The words came out starker than she’d intended, freighted with a little too much pain. She forced a smirk. “I’d want you awake.”

  “Hardass.” He paused, studying her face. She wondered what he read in her face. Probably more than she wanted him to, judging by the way his expression softened. “I really am sorry for what I did to you and Adam. It’s a stain on my honor.”

  “And we know how important honor is to you.” And thought, Jesus, Cheryl, give it a rest.

  His gaze cooled. “By the way, in case you get the urge to go home while I’m asleep, Opal bespelled the gate generator too. It won’t respond to your orders.”

  She forgot her momentary resolve to quit being a bitch. “Really? What a surprise.”

  Mouth tightening, Ulf pointed at a door on the other side of the room. “I assume you know about the bathroom off the suite?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good. Sleep well.” He stepped back and closed the door. The lock clicked. Must have had Opal conjure the hardware. He certainly didn’t lock his Majae in. She listened to the tread of his boots as he crossed the hall.

  With a weary sigh, Cheryl dropped into the armchair. A door closed across the hall, and she tried not to imagine Ulf undressing for bed. Sitting forward, she braced her elbows on her knees and let her head hang. Damn it, Gaia, what did you get me into?

  Nothing I didn’t have to.

  What if they decide to compel me into answering questions about the Hive? I won’t be able to resist their magic here.

  The reply slid through her mind like a chill fog. You won’t remember the answers.

  The fury that had been simmering for the past hour exploded through her. I’m getting sick of having my memory wiped by high-handed witches!

  That is unfortunate.

  It’s also a Goddamn understatement. Cheryl stalked into the bathroom. And stopped in the doorway, blinking. It was so over the top, she expected to find a fairy princess singing to talking mice. The tub appeared to have been carved out of an enormous chunk of translucent violet gemstone. More fist-sized gems hung from long chains of varying lengths from the ceiling, glowing with mystical light. A huge round showerhead projected from the ceil
ing. The floor was covered in white tile swirled with violet.

  “Baby witches.” Cheryl shook her head. “More power than taste.”

  Her attention fell on the white marble vanity that ran along the wall to her left. A woven basket stood there, too simple to be a creation of whoever dreamed up the bathroom. It held toiletries and a note. She picked the card up and recognized a familiar masculine scrawl. I know this sucks. I love you. Please forgive me. Love, Adam.

  P.S.: Jesus, did a unicorn yark a rainbow?

  Cheryl laughed and examined the basket to find her favorite brands of shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, and soap. Either he’d gone shopping or Opal had conjured it for him.

  When she undressed and got in the shower, a warm spray sluiced down. She sighed and closed her eyes. And thought of a dying woman surrounded by the rotting corpses of those she’d failed. Christ, I don’t want to end up like Gaia.

  Which was why she’d endured all this shit. The constant, grinding ache as the crystal grew throughout her body. The migraines so bad, she’d wanted to slam her skull into the nearest wall. Gaia had blocked the pain when she could, but there’d been times in the process when she couldn’t do a damn thing but knock Cheryl out.

  Then there’d been the seizures that left her bruised and seeing auras, unable to speak. At least Gaia had suppressed the worst of the side effects until Cheryl got off duty, or she’d have faced questions from her hospital supervisors she didn’t want to answer.

  And sweet God, the combat sessions. Hours and fucking hours of practice against Gaia’s conjured monsters. She smiled a little grimly into the shower spray, remembering the gobsmacked look on Ulf’s face when she’d pulled that sword on him, obviously wondering where the hell she’d learned that.

  What would he say if he knew it was him?

  Using Ulf’s brain as a template, Gaia had mapped his combat skills directly onto Cheryl’s nervous system. Fifteen hundred years’ worth of training crammed into a month. All part of Merlin’s plan. The question is, will it be enough when all hell breaks loose?

  With a sigh, she got out of the shower, towel dried her hair, and returned to the bedroom. Curious, she checked the mirrored bureau. It held several pairs of jeans, T-shirts, leggings, bras, and panties in her size. Opal had been busy.

  She changed into leggings and a long tee and climbed into bed. What are we doing about the truth spells? What if they cast something that can cut through your block?

  You won’t reveal the information in any way they can understand. The spirit’s tone turned even more grim. Unfortunately, that defense will make their questioning more unpleasant for you, but there’s nothing to be done for it. Besides, it will force them to stop.

  You hope. Well, I guess it’s nothing compared to what’s coming. Cheryl sighed. Do it.

  The moment her head touched the pillow, darkness crashed over her.

  * * *

  She was no longer Cheryl in the dream, and it was no longer Earth.

  The smell of rot hung in the air, gagging her with a suffocating reek that filled her nose and mouth. She lifted one hand to cover her mouth against the need to vomit.

  A gate opened, and a figure stepped out of it. He looked like a male of the Errul, though he wore strange metal rings on all twelve fingers. His elaborate headdress, studded with amplification crystals, glowed even in the burning light of the twin suns. She knew the crown and rings functioned as transformers, allowing his magic to work in this universe.

  He was a big male, with the powerful build of full maturity, though she suspected his true form was something else altogether. As he looked down at her, sadness drooped the feathers around his eyes. “Oh, my dear.” He sank to one knee by her side.

  “Merlin.” Gaia lifted a shaking hand, and he took it.

  In the depths of the dream, Cheryl thought, That’s Merlin? The Merlin of Ulf’s memories looked like a fifteen-year-old boy, beardless and frail, not this hulking feathered warrior.

  Voice hoarse and shaking, Gaia tried to tell him of her failure while she still could. “Failed… I failed… I killed warriors, but one escaped. Hivemother… did not come.”

  “I saw.” His hand tightened on hers. “How I wish I could have fought beside you.”

  She shook her head, licking cracked, bloody lips. Grimaced at the taste of rot. At the weakness that she knew heralded her death. “Your magic’s no good here… Your transformers couldn’t handle the output… But the spell you helped us craft -- it worked. Killed the warriors. Hivemother just… didn’t come.”

  “It can still work,” Merlin told her, icy determination in his voice. “I have Seen it. It will take fifteen centuries, but we can eliminate them. Even in that universe, my power wouldn’t work on them. But you… You can do it.”

  She made a little chirp of amusement, then grimaced at the pain as her ribs ached in dull protest. Even the pain was dying. “Won’t live… fifteen minutes.”

  He rested a hand against the side of her face. “You can. You can and you will.” Then he told her what he’d Seen.

  And gave a dying Errul hope.

  It took the very last of Gaia’s strength to extrude the seed crystal imbued with both her consciousness and a thin conduit to her universe’s magic. Even as she completed the transfer, her battered body died.

  She watched as Merlin took the stone that was all that remained of her and carried it through the gate to Mortal Earth. Watched as he inset it in the magnificent ring he gave to Sir Baldulf.

  There, locked in her crystal coffin, she waited to avenge the genocide of her people.

  * * *

  Confusing dreams spun through Cheryl’s mind. Sorrow. Horrible grief. The grinding effort of combat against monsters that died, only to be replaced by things even worse.

  Then something else. Memory, relived even as Gaia worked to bury it…

  The point of the blade dug into her throat as the alien queen’s three-fingered hand twisted in Cheryl’s long, graying hair. The brick porch under her knees felt cold as she stared out across the front yard. Her neighbors stared back at her in abject terror, each held captive by one of the blue aliens who’d kidnapped them from their homes. Since these were the same bastards who’d killed those people in Times Square, they were all in deep shit.

  Cheryl’s son stood on the brick sidewalk glaring at the alien queen, though Adam should be six hundred miles away in New York. A man and a woman accompanied him, but she couldn’t make out their faces in the darkness. There was something naggingly familiar about the man…

  Apparently, this was all about the ring Adam held raised in one hand, its stone glittering in the moonlight. Great, Cheryl thought. I’m trapped in a Tolkien movie.

  “Now put that ring down!” the queen barked. “It’s mine!”

  “This ring?” Adam waved it.

  What kind of game is he playing? Can’t he see this bitch is crazy?

  “I have waited long enough, human. Put that ring down.” Blue Bitch dug the point of the knife deeper until Cheryl sucked in a gasp, feeling blood roll hot down her throat.

  “Fine! Jesus, keep your shirt on!” Adam tossed the ring down on the walkway and stepped back, both hands raised.

  The queen dragged Cheryl forward with a hiss of excitement… And something poured out of the ring, a black cloud shot through with snapping sparks of blue, violet, and blood red. Cheryl bit back a scream as the thing roiled down the brick walk toward her and Blue Bitch. The surrounding aliens yelled, releasing their prisoners as they leaped to defend their ruler.

  Blue Bitch shoved Cheryl away and threw out her arms to the cloud. Like she welcomed it, the lunatic.

  Cheryl, not being that stupid, dove into the holly bushes edging the porch. Ignoring the serrated leaves raking over her skin, she curled into a ball, both arms shielding her head. When the queen screamed in triumph, she dared a glance upward. And gaped.

  The alien floated skyward like a helium balloon, surrounded by a crackling cloud of energy. Cheryl’
s neighbors screamed as the aliens cheered. Running feet clattered toward her over the brick sidewalk.

  Then the bush just… disappeared. Poof, leaving Cheryl crouched on bare mulch. Yelping, she swung out blindly as male hands closed around her arms and dragged her to her feet.

  “Mom!” It was Adam and his friend.

  She stopped fighting and clutched her son with a relieved gasp. “Oh, thank God!”

  “Are you hurt?” her son asked.

  “No, I’m…” Cheryl broke off, staring at the other man as a shaft of moonlight spilled across his tense, worried face. “Paul? What are you doing here? How did you…”

  “It’s a long story, and we’ve got to get you to safety,” Adam said. “Come on!”

  Paul glanced warily upward and did a horrified double take. “Jesu!”

  The queen’s charred body dropped to the brick walkway in an explosion of ash, leaving the glowing cloud hovering above it like a small, malevolent hurricane. It rolled toward them.

  “Take your mother!” Paul shoved Cheryl into Adam’s arms. “Opal, armor!”

  Golden sparks whirled around him, solidifying into a suit of futuristic armor as he leaped into the cloud’s path, raising the sword that had just materialized in his hand.

  But he’s a pharmaceutical salesman! Cheryl thought, numb and stupid.

  The cloud simply veered around Paul and kept coming.

  Adam spun in front of her, trying to shield her with his body. He staggered against her as something hit them, boiling over and around him to get to her.

  Fuck! It was like plunging into an icy lightning storm, whipped by invisible forces, crackling energy dancing over her skin in stinging jolts. Then the cloud began to sink into her. Her skin vibrated with electric shock, and she screamed from the pressure building inside her skull until it felt like her brain was swelling. Sparks flashed across her visual field between waves of pulsing darkness. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as currents of heat and cold raced over her body. Her feet left the ground and she began to float upward, just as Blue Bitch had done. Cheryl screamed in sheer terror, realizing she, too, was about to fry.