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Authors: Angela Knight
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we couldn’t get him out of that snake.” Belle scrubbed her hands over her face. Her eyes were red. “Even Excalibur bounced right off those damned scales. And our blasts only made the Beast stronger.”
“Then the centaur killed that child, and Arthur went after him,” Tristan said. “While the two Beasts were distracted, I saved the only part of Kadir I could. The monsters finally gated off to wherever the hell they go. Belle and I carried Daliya and Kadir’s head into the alley while Arthur led the cleanup crew putting out the fires and healing the wounded. The ones they could save, anyway.”
His expression brooding, the knight stared at the monitor. The video was frozen on a close-up of the Pakistani witch’s horrified face. “Daliya started babbling about mothers and fairies and somebody called the Huntsman . . .”
“No, it was the Hunter Prince,” Miranda corrected. She’d memorized Daliya’s prophecy, concentrating on every word as the witch spoke it. With that kind of magic, everything could turn on phrasing.
Tristan nodded. “That’s right, it was the Hunter Prince. Not that any of it made much sense, even after I listened to her recite the thing half a dozen times.”
“The Mother,” Branwyn put in. “She was definitely talking about the Mother, Conal.” She pointed the remote at the camera, fast-forwarding through the carnage. “I shot this after Daliya went down.”
The video jumped to a close-up of the Maja’s bloody, shock-dazed face. Her voice sounded almost dreamy as she chanted in English, “. . . and the crows will feast. Seek the Mother of Fairies as she folds enchanted steel into blades she fills with the souls of lost gods. She waits in her forge for the hero wolf to come for Merlin’s Blade. Then will the Hunter Prince be free—then will he rule in bloody vengeance or bend his knee to his spirit’s feral king. But mark me well—it will take the daughter of evil and a master of darkness to lead the night world into the light. If they do fail, humanity will drown in blood under the white wolf’s heel, and the crows will feast. Seek the Mother of Fairies at her . . .”
“She kept saying the same thing over and over,” Branwyn said. “Like the vision was on loop or something.”
“I agree with Bran.” Aislyn frowned at the screen, one hand rubbing her sister’s bowed back in comforting circles. “She’s definitely talking about the Mother.”
Conal paused so long, Miranda knew he agreed with the twins. “Maybe she did see the Mother,” he admitted finally, “but that doesn’t mean the Mother is going to want a Knight of the Round Table showing up at her door. This isn’t our fight.”
“So you’re just going to stand around and do nothing, even though this Mother of yours may have the key to defeating Warlock?” Tristan glared. “Thanks a fuckin’ heap, Conal.”
“Meanwhile, humans are going to die in droves,” Justice pointed out. “Fifteen Magekind agents have fallen, and so have more than a dozen werewolves. How long do you think we can fight a war involving this kind of magic without somebody shooting cell phone video none of us wants on FOX?”
“Let us talk to her.” Miranda moved closer to Conal, hoping to get through his stubborn resistance. “Let us at least try. We’re running out of options.”
“Look, I don’t want Warlock running things any more than you do, but you still don’t want to show up at the Mother’s forge unannounced.” Conal rubbed a hand back and forth across his square jaw. The long tail of his hair swayed with the movement. “That’s a good way to get extremely dead.”
Belle eyed him. “So what do you suggest?”
He sighed and threw up his hands in a gesture of disgusted surrender. “I’ll call her and explain the situation.” Jerking open the Velcro fastenings of his fencing jacket, Conal shrugged out of the protective garment and tossed it across a nearby weight bench. The sweat-damp
“Then the centaur killed that child, and Arthur went after him,” Tristan said. “While the two Beasts were distracted, I saved the only part of Kadir I could. The monsters finally gated off to wherever the hell they go. Belle and I carried Daliya and Kadir’s head into the alley while Arthur led the cleanup crew putting out the fires and healing the wounded. The ones they could save, anyway.”
His expression brooding, the knight stared at the monitor. The video was frozen on a close-up of the Pakistani witch’s horrified face. “Daliya started babbling about mothers and fairies and somebody called the Huntsman . . .”
“No, it was the Hunter Prince,” Miranda corrected. She’d memorized Daliya’s prophecy, concentrating on every word as the witch spoke it. With that kind of magic, everything could turn on phrasing.
Tristan nodded. “That’s right, it was the Hunter Prince. Not that any of it made much sense, even after I listened to her recite the thing half a dozen times.”
“The Mother,” Branwyn put in. “She was definitely talking about the Mother, Conal.” She pointed the remote at the camera, fast-forwarding through the carnage. “I shot this after Daliya went down.”
The video jumped to a close-up of the Maja’s bloody, shock-dazed face. Her voice sounded almost dreamy as she chanted in English, “. . . and the crows will feast. Seek the Mother of Fairies as she folds enchanted steel into blades she fills with the souls of lost gods. She waits in her forge for the hero wolf to come for Merlin’s Blade. Then will the Hunter Prince be free—then will he rule in bloody vengeance or bend his knee to his spirit’s feral king. But mark me well—it will take the daughter of evil and a master of darkness to lead the night world into the light. If they do fail, humanity will drown in blood under the white wolf’s heel, and the crows will feast. Seek the Mother of Fairies at her . . .”
“She kept saying the same thing over and over,” Branwyn said. “Like the vision was on loop or something.”
“I agree with Bran.” Aislyn frowned at the screen, one hand rubbing her sister’s bowed back in comforting circles. “She’s definitely talking about the Mother.”
Conal paused so long, Miranda knew he agreed with the twins. “Maybe she did see the Mother,” he admitted finally, “but that doesn’t mean the Mother is going to want a Knight of the Round Table showing up at her door. This isn’t our fight.”
“So you’re just going to stand around and do nothing, even though this Mother of yours may have the key to defeating Warlock?” Tristan glared. “Thanks a fuckin’ heap, Conal.”
“Meanwhile, humans are going to die in droves,” Justice pointed out. “Fifteen Magekind agents have fallen, and so have more than a dozen werewolves. How long do you think we can fight a war involving this kind of magic without somebody shooting cell phone video none of us wants on FOX?”
“Let us talk to her.” Miranda moved closer to Conal, hoping to get through his stubborn resistance. “Let us at least try. We’re running out of options.”
“Look, I don’t want Warlock running things any more than you do, but you still don’t want to show up at the Mother’s forge unannounced.” Conal rubbed a hand back and forth across his square jaw. The long tail of his hair swayed with the movement. “That’s a good way to get extremely dead.”
Belle eyed him. “So what do you suggest?”
He sighed and threw up his hands in a gesture of disgusted surrender. “I’ll call her and explain the situation.” Jerking open the Velcro fastenings of his fencing jacket, Conal shrugged out of the protective garment and tossed it across a nearby weight bench. The sweat-damp
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