Read Online Shadow Rites: A Jane Yellowrock Novel by Faith Hunter - Free Book Online
Authors: Faith Hunter
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face was expressionless, harder than stone. The weapon was in both hands, pointing beyond me. “This is bad,” I whispered. Eli shifted his aim, a minuscule change.
Gee initiated a move, the lights glinting on his sword, his feet shifting into an advanced move.
He is trying to kill me
.
Eli fired.
Gee’s body snapped, as if he had been hit with the tip of a whip. Leo shouted. And Gee simply fell to the floor beside me. I sat down, my strength draining away, and looked into Gee’s face, where he was gasping, trying to find breath. I picked up the single dark blue feather that rocked lightly beside him, the only evidence that his glamours had nearly failed when he was shot. I tucked it into the opening of his shirt.
“You can’t heal here, you stupid bird,” I said, remembering our first conversation, the one that had told me wasn’t from Earth, or not an Earth I had ever known. “You might need that feather.” And then I fell over him and the light telescoped down into a tiny pinpoint of brightness that illuminated Eli’s boots. They were standing in my blood.
CHAPTER 4
I Always Wanted to Shoot Big Bird
I came to in a darkened room that smelled of vamps, human blood, and my blood. I was cold, so cold I couldn’t even shiver, though there was something warm wrapped around me, an electric blanket, I thought, coarse and fuzzy at the same time. Something cool and smooth was against my cheek. Something wet was wiping my side, cleaning the deadened flesh where I must be—or must have been—wounded. The pain that had been with me, even in the darkness of unconsciousness, was mostly gone, leaving a dull ache.
I sighed and my breath came easily, with a sensation that let me know I had been in agony for some time in the very recent past. But the pain was gone and my breath came and went, came and went. But I wasn’t ready to face the real world. Sinking inside myself, I reached for Beast.
She was in my soul home, crouched before a crackling fire. The flames were cool, giving off no heat, and the light within them, light that should have illuminated everything around us, was muted, as if hidden in smoke, except there was no smoke, no scent of fire or fresh-cut wood, nocharcoal, no scent of anything. Everything was dark, except for the flames themselves and a shadowy Beast, so dark here that I couldn’t see the stone walls or the rounded stone roof, far overhead. Beast’s eyes were glowing gold, watching me in the darkness. Her golden pelt was dim, as if she sat in shadow, or as if she had taken on the pelt of the black panther, the rare melanistic
Puma concolor
, her pelt darkened beneath the black hair-tips. A tremor ran through her body.
I examined myself, seeing the leggings, long tunic shirt, and the plain, undecorated moccasins that I had begun to wear here, ever since I accepted that I was War Woman. I bent toward the flame. The medicine bag hanging on the leather thong about my neck swung forward, into the meager light. The green-dyed leather caught the light and faded into darkness, caught the light and faded into darkness as it swung, in time to my breathing, slow and easy. The leather bag filled with herbs had no scent, no herbal aroma, no wild tobacco, nothing. I had a bad feeling about . . . everything.
Jane is foolish kit.
So you tell me.
Jane let ambush hunter wound her with killing steel claw.
I thought he was testing us again. Making sure there was no indication of Beast in our eyes. No evidence of our new abilities.
I thought back to what I remembered of the fight. The memory was fuzzy, but the memory of the pain was fresh and startling, of Gee’s blade sliding in under my ribs.
Jane should have allowed Beast to
be
.
She drew out the last word, giving it import and heft, as though
being
was a weapon I had possessed but had kept sheathed.
I didn’t stop you,
I thought back.
I reached for you and . . .
I tried to remember, but my memory was sluggish, as if the moment I looked for had
Gee initiated a move, the lights glinting on his sword, his feet shifting into an advanced move.
He is trying to kill me
.
Eli fired.
Gee’s body snapped, as if he had been hit with the tip of a whip. Leo shouted. And Gee simply fell to the floor beside me. I sat down, my strength draining away, and looked into Gee’s face, where he was gasping, trying to find breath. I picked up the single dark blue feather that rocked lightly beside him, the only evidence that his glamours had nearly failed when he was shot. I tucked it into the opening of his shirt.
“You can’t heal here, you stupid bird,” I said, remembering our first conversation, the one that had told me wasn’t from Earth, or not an Earth I had ever known. “You might need that feather.” And then I fell over him and the light telescoped down into a tiny pinpoint of brightness that illuminated Eli’s boots. They were standing in my blood.
CHAPTER 4
I Always Wanted to Shoot Big Bird
I came to in a darkened room that smelled of vamps, human blood, and my blood. I was cold, so cold I couldn’t even shiver, though there was something warm wrapped around me, an electric blanket, I thought, coarse and fuzzy at the same time. Something cool and smooth was against my cheek. Something wet was wiping my side, cleaning the deadened flesh where I must be—or must have been—wounded. The pain that had been with me, even in the darkness of unconsciousness, was mostly gone, leaving a dull ache.
I sighed and my breath came easily, with a sensation that let me know I had been in agony for some time in the very recent past. But the pain was gone and my breath came and went, came and went. But I wasn’t ready to face the real world. Sinking inside myself, I reached for Beast.
She was in my soul home, crouched before a crackling fire. The flames were cool, giving off no heat, and the light within them, light that should have illuminated everything around us, was muted, as if hidden in smoke, except there was no smoke, no scent of fire or fresh-cut wood, nocharcoal, no scent of anything. Everything was dark, except for the flames themselves and a shadowy Beast, so dark here that I couldn’t see the stone walls or the rounded stone roof, far overhead. Beast’s eyes were glowing gold, watching me in the darkness. Her golden pelt was dim, as if she sat in shadow, or as if she had taken on the pelt of the black panther, the rare melanistic
Puma concolor
, her pelt darkened beneath the black hair-tips. A tremor ran through her body.
I examined myself, seeing the leggings, long tunic shirt, and the plain, undecorated moccasins that I had begun to wear here, ever since I accepted that I was War Woman. I bent toward the flame. The medicine bag hanging on the leather thong about my neck swung forward, into the meager light. The green-dyed leather caught the light and faded into darkness, caught the light and faded into darkness as it swung, in time to my breathing, slow and easy. The leather bag filled with herbs had no scent, no herbal aroma, no wild tobacco, nothing. I had a bad feeling about . . . everything.
Jane is foolish kit.
So you tell me.
Jane let ambush hunter wound her with killing steel claw.
I thought he was testing us again. Making sure there was no indication of Beast in our eyes. No evidence of our new abilities.
I thought back to what I remembered of the fight. The memory was fuzzy, but the memory of the pain was fresh and startling, of Gee’s blade sliding in under my ribs.
Jane should have allowed Beast to
be
.
She drew out the last word, giving it import and heft, as though
being
was a weapon I had possessed but had kept sheathed.
I didn’t stop you,
I thought back.
I reached for you and . . .
I tried to remember, but my memory was sluggish, as if the moment I looked for had
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