Crimson Veil

Chapter 7

Traveling through the Ionyc Seas wasn’t always the most pleasant thing but it got the job done. And really, considering I was already dead and that it took one hell of a lot to knock me out of commission, the shifting waves of energy rolled over me like water on a duck’s back. I closed my eyes and leaned close to Smoky as he sheltered me in his arm.

Dragons smelled different than humans or Fae. Their pulses ran differently, too. The steady beat of his heart was similar, but it echoed a different rhythm, deeper, like the ancient pulsing of drums in the darkness. I’d noticed it before. As Smoky stepped off the Ionyc Seas, it felt as though we were exiting from a womb, breaking through a psychic amniotic fluid sac. We stepped through, with a sucking sound, and were once again on solid land, in the physical world.

We were standing in front of his barrow, which was out near Mount Rainier. When Camille had first stumbled on the hillock and met the dragon who now claimed her heart, Smoky had been embroiled in a dispute over the ownership of the mound with Titania, the Queen of Light and Morning. But at that point, she had not regained her powers, and had been a pale drunken shadow of her true self. She had been arguing with Smoky over who owned the barrow, while living in a cave inside it.

Now there was no issue. Titania ruled with Aeval and Morgaine in their sovereign nation of Talamh Lonrach Oll, giving up all pretenses to owning Smoky’s land.

Not far from the barrow, through the forest along a wooded trail, was a snug house where Smoky had offered refuge to Georgio Profeta, a man who believed he was Saint George. His childlike vision allowed him to see through the trappings and to know that Smoky was a dragon. For years he had sought to destroy the beast, dressed in his plastic chain mail, with a rubber sword. When his dementia grew too strong, Smoky hired a caretaker for him, and now Saint George and the dragon lived in a peaceful truce.

The barrow itself was a huge earthen mound that looked like a uniformly shaped—and good-sized—hill from the outside. To the outside world—and to us—it was lovely and pristine, a field that was incredibly beautiful. But beneath that glamour lay a charred and scorched area of the woodland. Smoky had done a number on it in his dragon shape, what with the let’s-breathe-fire habit he had.

A door led into the barrow on one side, but I knew that farther along the mound was the entrance to a cave. Camille and Morio had explored in there when they went searching for Tom Lane—or rather, Tam Lin. Yes, that Tam Lin, from the songs and stories. Tom, as he had been known to us, was Titania’s foggy-headed lover from eons past, before he had become one of the Keraastar Knights, and now—sadly—a victim of Telazhar and the sorcerers.

Roz jumped off the Ionyc Seas and blinked, steadying himself. The more we all traveled through the vast channels of energy, the more we adapted to the nuances and sluggish pull of the currents.

After a few minutes to situate ourselves, Smoky led us through his magical charms to enter the barrow. If we’d tried to breach the wards without him, we would have died in any number of horrible ways. Dragons were protective, and territorial, and they had exquisitely painful methods of preventing anybody from fucking with their stuff. Even so, as we crossed the threshold, a crackle of electricity sparked around us, and if we’d been unwelcome visitors, we would have been turned into crispy critters.

The outside might be rustic, but inside, Smoky’s barrow was a bizarre mix of stone and chasm and old world charm. The living room was laid out on tiled floor, and the walls were the stone of a deep cavern. The barrow on the outside was far smaller than the world into which we had stepped. Barrow mounds were magical; the entrances were portals into another dimension. So on the outside, the mound could be a small hillock, but once inside, the world grew larger.

As we entered the living area, the smell of cigar smoke and old leather surrounded us. Smoky was still allowed to smoke in his own barrow, provided Camille wasn’t coming out here for a while. Smoke bothered Delilah and Camille a lot—especially cigarette and cigar smoke. It had bothered me when I was still alive but no longer presented a problem. That didn’t mean I liked the smell, but it didn’t make me choke now.

The brown sofa and chair were old, luxurious—the leather buttery and supple. Heavy walnut tables buttressed the ends of the sofa, and a matching bookshelf spanned one cavern wall, filled with leather-bound books and scrolls. The tiled floor ended at what would have been the back wall, but the cavern opened up into a chasm at that point. A staircase led down into the pitch dark of the cavern below. Mists boiled from the bottom, and the sound of a stream echoed out from deep in the rocky ravine.

On either side of the living area, two doors led into what I knew were a bedchamber and bath, and Smoky’s kitchen. Eye catchers shimmered around the ceiling—Smoky had managed to snag them from Otherworld, or perhaps when Titania had lived in the caves connected to the barrow, she had enchanted them. Whatever the case, their illumination brought a soft, gentle glow to the cavern, and even though it was underground, even though it boasted dark depths that led to unknown haunts, there was a sense of comfort here, and safety. Smoky had definitely imprinted his presence on this place.

I was carrying the scroll. One of the reasons we’d left Venus at home was that, if he didn’t know where the scroll was hidden, he couldn’t leak the information in case he was caught. Because while we still weren’t sure of how important the Keraastar Knights were to the future, we didn’t dare chance losing the powers inherent in the parchment.

Smoky led us to the back edge of the living area. There, below, was the deep chasm into which he dove when he shifted into his dragon form in the barrow. I wasn’t sure how he got from there to the outside, but it was none of my business and I had never asked.

A narrow set of stairs led down on one side, steep and with no railing. They descended into the darkness, treacherous and foreboding. I wondered just how many feet had traversed the stones, how many people had attempted to venture into the gaping fracture that split the cavern.

Smoky stood up top. He paused for a moment. “I shouldn’t be witness to where the two of you hide the scroll. That way, the Wing Liege cannot command me to hand over information I do not have. While I doubt that my people would have any desire to administer the Keraastar Knights, it is best we take no chances. If you need me, call, and I will help you out, but unless it’s an emergency, probably best that I don’t know where you’re going.”

I glanced at Roz. It made sense. “I guess we’d better get a move on. I don’t want to miss saying good-bye to Luke and Amber before the dragons take them away.”

“Not to mention, it would be a really good idea if I were there when they arrive.” Smoky gave me a twinkling smile, but there was a worried sense lurking behind those frosty eyes.

“Right.” I motioned to Roz and headed toward the steps. “How will we be able to see in the darkness?”

“Here…” Smoky paused, holding out a silver lantern. He let out a low whistle and two of the eye catchers broke free from their place where they hovered near the ceiling and slowly floated into the metal cage. He shut the door on it, then handed it to me. “Take this with you—they will light the way.”

“Thanks. Now all I need is a stick to test the steps.”

Again Smoky came to the rescue and provided me with a staff. It was old, smooth from many centuries of handling, and the wood felt sturdy but not heavy. A tingle ran through my palm as I wrapped my hand around the hilt of it, and I knew there was magic within the staff, though there was no way I could know what kind it was.

“What is the wood?”

Smoky gave me a gentle nod. “Apple.”

Heading over to the edge of the chasm, I was grateful that I wasn’t acrophobic. Camille was to a degree, and it had caused some problems over the years.

I handed the lantern to Roz. “You take this. I’ll use the staff and go on ahead.” Making certain the scroll was firmly tucked in the bag I’d slung over my shoulder and neck, I stood on the top step. The scroll couldn’t fall out of my grasp this way. The Velcro keeping the flap closed was firmly shut. Unless I toppled over the edge, we wouldn’t lose the scroll on the way down.

“We’re ready.”

Roz took the lantern, and without another word, we headed down into the depths.

I leaned close to the wall as I began tapping the stairs in front of me. They were narrow and steep, at the most twenty inches wide by ten inches deep, by twelve inches high. In other words, they were hell on earth to get down and left us clinging to the wall.

If I took a fall, I could recover, unless I landed on something sharp and pointy in just the right place. Roz might have time to shift into the astral—incubi had their own modes of travel and Roz could vanish into the Ionyc Seas if need be. But still, if he didn’t manage to shift fast enough, he could die from a fall like that. And given the sound of the stream and the mist below, I wouldn’t count on a smooth landing. So both of us pressed against the stone wall to our left, out of which the steps had been carved.

Holding the staff in my right hand, I tapped each step as I went, testing for broken stone, for cracks that might crumble the step beneath our feet. Mount Rainier—which we were very near—was an andesitic volcano, and the rock out here was deep gray, with inclusions of quartz and feldspar. While the stone was extremely hard, earthquakes were frequent because of the volcanic nature of the area, and could easily fracture it.

The walls of the cavern were rough, carved out by whatever ancient hands had built the steps, and the eye catchers softly illuminated a small swath of the rock wall to our left, and about ten feet of the stairs that descended in front of us. From what Smoky had told us, the bottom of the chasm lay some five hundred or so feet below. We could hear the sound of the water rushing even from here. There was an underground river—small, but a river nonetheless—flowing along the bottom of the ravine.

Hoping there were no viro-mortis slimes along the rock, I kept my left hand and shoulder firmly pressed against the stone. It was cool, and as we worked our way into the depths, the smell of damp moss and mildew grew stronger. A gust of air brushed past, though I had no clue where it was coming from. It swept up and out of the ravine to rattle by, a hollow husk of a voice susurrating in my ear. I tried not to think about ghosts or spirits, and focused on what I was doing.

Down we edged, down another step, another five, another fifteen. Neither Roz nor I tired quickly, but the going was slow, and while I was more light-footed and sure than he was, the task was daunting. After about forty-five minutes, a ledge came into view. It was narrow, but from what I could tell, the stone outcropping led into a cavern. I tapped it with the staff and a few pebbles gave way, falling into the chasm with a loud trickling sound, but the ledge itself seemed sturdy enough.

Cautiously, I set one foot on the stone and waited. One beat. Two beats. Nothing happened. I slowly edged the rest of the way onto the ledge. Again, it seemed safe. Staring at the opening, I debated the wisdom of going in blind. Roz had the eye catcher lantern and I leaned back to where he was waiting for my go-ahead.

“Give me the lantern. Then let me step into the cave to see what’s in there before you come onto the ledge. I think it will hold both of us at the same time, but I’d rather not chance it.” As he lowered the lantern to me, I reached up and managed to catch hold of it. Retreating to the wide entrance of the cavern, I slipped inside.

The tunnel mouth was as wide as the ledge, and I paused inside to let my eyes adjust. The soft glow of the eye catchers illuminated the area around me, and I could see that the cave was shallow, only about seven feet deep. The walls and ceiling glistened with some sparkling material that seemed to hang down like wisps of thread, gently moving in the soft breeze that channeled into the chamber. As I crept closer to one wall, I realized the sparkling strands were glowworms, bioluminescent and beautiful.

Cautious not to disturb them—they weren’t dangerous as far as I knew, but now wasn’t the time to find out—I scoped out the floor. Empty, for the most part. Scattered stones and pebbles. No real danger, and no good place here to hide the scroll. It would mean clearing out the glowworms to look for a nook, and I didn’t feel like doing that.

I emerged from the cave and looked up at Roz, handing the lantern back to him. “Nothing to worry about, but not what we’re looking for either. It’s down we go. Let me get off this ledge before you cross it.”

“Not a problem,” he said, waiting as I descended to the stairs on the other side of the outcropping before following me.

Another ten minutes, another twenty… The sound of water grew steadily louder as we closed the distance between us and the bottom of the ravine. And then, almost ninety minutes since we’d started the journey down, we were near the bottom.

The cavern itself was immense. I couldn’t tell how far across it went, but the river rushing through it was a good seventy or eighty yards across. The water churned along, white caps covering the surface as it thundered through the cave. I wasn’t sure where the source for this river was, or if it was purely an underground waterway coming from deep within the glacial walls of Mount Rainier, but whatever its name might be—if indeed it had one—the river’s currents were strong and I wasn’t sure I’d want to try to cross it.

As I stepped off the staircase, onto the rocky shore, Roz joined me, and we stood in silence, watching the roar of the waves pass us by. After a few minutes, I shook my head. The water had a mesmerizing effect that made it difficult to look away.

“Let’s scout around the back wall. Maybe we can find a good niche in which to hide the scroll where we won’t lose track of it.” I motioned to the wall of the cavern that rose up. The staircase switched back and forth on its way back to the top.

“I brought a magical trace.” Roz said.

I stared at him. “You’re brilliant, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because I’m the gadget guy?” He laughed. “Seriously, no matter what sign we paint near it, no matter what landmark we erect, chances are a quake or some odd creature coming through will disrupt it and we won’t be able to find the scroll again. But if we keep a magical trace on it, we can follow it through rubble and stone.”

I grinned at him. “Good thinking. You’re worth something after all.”

He snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m a lazy bag of bones.” But he knew I was kidding.

We hunted along the wall for another ten minutes until I spotted a tunnel, about four feet off the ground. It was rough, about five feet high, and I hoisted myself up into it, reaching down for the lantern. As I inched my way forward, I realized there were dozens of catacomb-like holes in the wall here. The tunnel itself was only about four feet deep, and again—no creatures, no scary dangers in here. But the scroll would fit perfectly in one of the latticework holes.

Leaning out of the passage, I motioned to Roz. “Found the place. How do we work the magical trace on the scroll?”

He opened his duster—or should I say the walking arsenal he carried. His coat contained more weapons than a gun shop contained guns. He dug through the pockets. After a moment, he pulled out a small charm. I pulled out the tube containing the scroll and the charm fit neatly inside. After making sure it was carefully closed, I slid the tube inside a plastic bag and sealed it. No use chancing water getting in to ruin it, and we had no idea if—or how much—the river ever flooded.

Rozurial held out an amulet and closed his eyes. “Yep, the trace is working. Go ahead and hide it and we’ll check again.”

I carried the scroll back inside the passage and slid it into one of the latticed holes, then returned to the shore of the river. We walked downstream about twenty yards and Rozurial tried the trace again.

“Works like a charm.” Laughing at his own joke, he tucked the amulet around his neck—it was on a leather thong—and slid it beneath his shirt. “I guess we’re done here.”

“As much as we can be.” I stared up at the stairwell. “I really don’t want to climb all the way back up. Would you mind if I turned into a bat and flew up?”

Roz laughed. “I’ll do you one better. I can carry you through the Ionyc Seas to the top, now that I’ve seen it. I couldn’t carry us down because I wasn’t sure where the hell we were going, and stepping off the Sea could have landed us in the wrong place, as in plunging us to our death wrong place. But now that I know my target, we can journey up the easy way.”

He opened his arms and I stepped into his embrace. As the world faded away, he swept us into the swirling sea of energy that connected all the realms. The Ionyc Seas kept the planes of existence separate and from running into each other, which would not have a been a good thing. Come to think of it, the Ionyc Seas were like natural portals.

The journey was short and we stepped out of the mists into Smoky’s living room, about three feet from the drop-off. I took an involuntary step back—the sudden swirl of the ravine into which we had plunged seemed all too terrifyingly deep. The plus side was that Roz had been down there now. And if we had to go again, he could shift through the Ionyc Seas to get there. I was pretty sure Smoky could, too, for that matter. I had no doubt he had been to the bottom, and that he knew every nook and cranny of the cavern. Dragons weren’t stupid, and he wouldn’t have allowed any surprise denizens to have access to his barrow.

Smoky was sitting there, reading a book. He glanced up at us, then carefully marked his place with a silver cord and closed the volume, setting it back on the coffee table.

“You are done?” He stood, towering over me—the dragon was six-four and his hair was longer than I was tall.

I nodded. “We are. And there’s a magical trace on the scroll. Roz thought to bring one.”

Smoky cocked his head. He had a natural antipathy toward the incubus, but they worked well together when needed. It was a stupid rivalry, brought on by one indiscretion Roz had made with Camille—involving his hand on her butt—and it had led to a thrashing the incubus would likely never forget, but the two were good-natured in their threats now.

“Well, nice to know there are other thoughts rolling around in his brain beyond getting laid.” Smoky snorted, and then motioned to the door. “We need to leave. I do not want to miss my kin and it’s been two hours since we arrived here. I will not mess with the barrow time just to buy back one hundred and twenty minutes.”

I stopped, staring at him. “What do you mean?”

“You know time in barrows runs differently than time on the outside, if we choose to make it so. But doing so can produce severe ramifications, as well as causing discontinuity issues.”

“I thought only Fae barrow mounds worked like that.” I was confused now. I’d never heard any stories of dragons being able to mess with time.

But the galoot gave me a smirk. “What kind of mound do you think this originally was?”

Incredulous now, I rested my hands on my hips. “You aren’t serious? Then Titania was telling the truth and this was her barrow and you ousted her from it?” Somehow, this didn’t come as a great surprise, but still…

Smoky stared at the ceiling. “The woman was deep in her cups. She wasn’t taking care of it, and it was the perfect space for me to both live in and also change into my dragon form.” Then, a little more belligerently, he added, “I am not defending my actions to you, woman. You may be my sister-in-law, but I answer to no one.”

“Except Camille.” I couldn’t help it, I was feeling my usual smart-ass self. “Right, Roz?”

But the incubus was smart. He shook his head, holding up his hands. “I’m staying out of this one. So not going there!”

“Smart move.” Grumbling, Smoky motioned for us to head outside. Once we were through the wards, Smoky set them up again—with a wave of the hand and a tangible feel of some sort of magic wafting off him—and then he turned back to us. “Come. Time to fly.”

As he enfolded me in his arms, Roz vanished. And then Smoky stepped into the Ionyc Seas, carrying me with him, and we headed home.

We appeared on the porch. Smoky released me and stiffened. “They’re here.”

“The dragons?” I glanced at him and he nodded. As I reached for the door, he stepped in front of me.

“Let me go in first. Just… in case.” His warning look was enough. Dragons were volatile creatures, and even though Shade was there to try to smooth the waters should anything happen, the chance that one half-dragon could hold against several full-bloods was small.

I stepped back to allow Smoky to enter first. Roz swung in behind him, and I came last. There were voices coming from the living room—loud, and for a moment I thought there was an argument going on. But as we entered the room, I saw that Shade was in the corner, laughing his ass off, and next to him, sitting on a footstool, was a woman with skin the same color as his—coffee and cream.

His sister. Lash—this had to be Lash. Her eyes were brilliant topaz and she had hair the color of spun caramel. Clinging to her ample curves, a silky gown the color of ivy, with orange flames licking the hem, showed off her rippling muscles. Not many people could work the color orange, but it was obvious that this woman could make just about anything look good.

Shade stood as we came into the room. I glanced around. Camille was nowhere to be seen, but Delilah was sitting primly on the sofa and she looked like the cat who had been caught by the canary. And what the hell… Delilah was wearing… a dress? Delilah never wore dresses except for rituals. And frankly, though she looked good in them, with her personality, they always seemed off. Our Kitten just wasn’t a gurly gurl in any shape or form of the word.

She was wearing a slightly-above-the-knee-length olive green sheath, belted with a brown leather band, and she had on flats—loafers. But with the spiky hair and the deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face, she looked like some demented Bambi. Her hands were firmly folded in her lap, and she had a smile plastered on her face.

I glanced over at Shade. He seemed intent on talking to his sister, and I had the feeling he had no clue how terrified Delilah was. I slid over to her side and sat down, prying one of her hands out of her lap and holding it firmly in my own. As she caught her breath, the tension transmitting through her body like a radio beacon.

“Hey, aren’t you going to introduce us?” I glanced over my shoulder, nodding at Lash.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah… I’m sorry—I…”

Smoky suddenly appeared by my side. He reached across and took Delilah’s hand, pulling her to her feet. He gave her a courtly bow. “Sister, you look lovely today.” Then he turned to Shade and Lash. “Perhaps you will introduce me to your future sister-in-law?”

Lash took in Smoky, her eyes growing wide. And then I understood. Smoky was the son of an influential and powerful dragon. He was half-silver, and that put him at the top of the food chain in the Dragon Reaches. He was also full-blood dragon, and Lash and Shade were only half.

Lash slowly stood. Shade stood beside her. Delilah, holding Smoky’s arm, led the way to their corner where they were having their reunion. Lash gave her a look that I couldn’t quite read—it wasn’t scornful, but it was aloof, and a little too haughty for my tastes. But with another look at Smoky, she tentatively smiled.

Delilah cleared her throat. “Smoky, may I introduce Lash—Shade’s sister? Lash, this is Smoky, one of my sister Camille’s husbands.”

“Her only dragon husband,” Smoky interjected with a smile. “Charmed to meet you.” He gave Lash a long nod, polite, but did not offer his hand. Hmm. He was up to a power play. By putting his support behind Delilah, he was giving her a one-up on Lash. Which would give her standing in the dragon realm.

Lash blinked. “You are Delilah’s brother-in-law?”

Smoky’s expression took on a somber look. “Most happily, I might add. You are lucky to be gaining such a brave and talented woman as part of your family. I consider myself fortunate to be aligned with the D’Artigo household.”

He was laying it on a little thick, but then again, in the realm of the dragons, formality counted and sparring via words and lineage was commonplace. As he gazed into Lash’s eyes, she shuddered, then forced a smile to her face as she turned to Delilah.

“We are lucky, I’m sure, and I’m grateful to be gaining a sister.” She glanced over at me and Delilah pounced, quickly picking up on the interplay that had passed beneath the surface.

“Lash, may I present my other sister—Menolly.”

I gave Lash a nod, not bothering to offer my hand. I had no use for head games and lineage snobs—we’d had enough of that shoved down our throats when we lived in Otherworld. But I gave her a fangy smile.

“You’re a vampire.” It was a statement, neither disdainful nor approving. She cocked her head; the topaz irises of her eyes were glowing, encircled with a purple ring. “You exist more within our world than most of the mortals we have met.”

“That’s right. You and Shade come from the Netherworld. You live in a land of spirits and ghosts.” I had known this, but I suddenly understood the connection she was making. I was dead—well, one of the undead, if you wanted to be technical about it—and that made me more understandable to her. “You do know that Delilah is a Death Maiden?”

Delilah gave me an odd look, but Lash let out a soft sound and turned to her brother. “You did not tell me that your fiancée is marked by the Autumn Lord. I should have sensed her connection.” She stepped forward, brushing Delilah’s bangs back from her forehead. “The mark—you do bear it. And your arms…”

Delilah held out her arms. The orange and black leaves and vines winding up her forearms had grown vivid over the past couple weeks. She straightened, and for the first time since we’d returned home, she seemed like herself again.

She tipped her head up to look at Lash—the half-dragon, half-Stradolan woman was a good six-five, and with a soft sigh, her shoulders relaxed. “I belong to the Autumn Lord, yes. He is the one who picked Shade for me.”

“And it is a match meant to be.” Shade wrapped his arm around Delilah’s shoulder. He glanced at her, a soft light in his eyes. “You are nervous, aren’t you, my love?”

She shrugged. “What can I say? You bring your sister here, you ask me to dress up when I never dress up… I know I’m being scrutinized as to whether I’m worthy to be your wife.”

Lash frowned. “My brother asked you to dress up for me? You do not normally wear… this sort of wear?”

Delilah snorted. “Are you kidding? I’m more comfortable in jeans and a tank top, but I love your brother and wanted to make a good impression on you for his sake.”

Whirling around, Lash faced Shade. “How could you ask her to be other than she is? Men, you are all alike.” She motioned to Delilah. “Go, change into whatever is comfortable. My brother is as dense as most of his gender. And yes, you are right, I was sent here to observe you for my family but… I have a change of heart. I want to get to know you—not just carry tales home. And if you have the support of Iampaatar’s family… then I offer you my support.”

Smoky chuckled. “As you should. Camille and her sisters… well… you will learn.”

As Delilah excused herself and ran off upstairs, Camille entered the room. She yawned and I realized that she was looking a little tired. We’d all been under a fuckton of strain over the past couple of weeks, and with Father’s death, the stress had just exacerbated.

She leaned into Smoky’s embrace as he introduced her to Lash, who gave her a surprisingly docile nod.

“Tired, love?” Smoky leaned down to kiss her head, a tendril of his hair reaching up to stroke her arm.

“Yes… but the evening is far from over.” Camille let Smoky sweep her up into his arms as he carried her over to the rocking chair, where he sat, placing her firmly on his lap.

Shade motioned for Lash to join him on the sofa. Vanzir and Roz were heading out of the room when a noise from the corner alerted us. Within seconds, a blur shifted in the air, and then a woman and two men appeared. Tall and brilliant, sparkling with power, the woman gave us a gracious smile.

Smoky and Camille jumped to their feet.

“Mother!” Smoky moved forward, dropping to one knee as he pressed her hand to his lips.

“Iampaatar… Camille… we are here to retrieve your… parcels and to bring you a message from the Lords of the Realm. The dragons are discussing joining your war efforts in Otherworld. I have brought the Wing Liege and one of my private guards with me tonight. We have much to discuss.”

And with that, Vishana, Smoky’s mother, strode over to the recliner and settled back, crossing her legs on the raised footrest, as Lash sank to her knees, her eyes fastened on the silver dragon as a look of awe swept over her face.

Oh yes, this was about to get interesting.