“Where do you think you are going, human?” The last word sounded like a curse.
“It’s late,” her father began, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. “And—”
Those had been his last words. The thing reached out quick as lightning, wrapped a long-fingered hand around Jacob’s neck, and snapped it. It happened so fast, the only part Aislinn remembered clearly was her mother screaming. The humans who had welcomed the abominations began to chant something like, “Kill the unbelievers. Bring on the New Age. New Age. New Age. New Age…”
A woman had stepped forward then and tugged at the other alien being’s arm. Dark hair blew in her eyes. She was half naked, her small, conical breasts painted with runic symbols. “I am Amaya, queen witch of this coven. Where are the others? I was told six of you would emerge.”
The thing smirked at her and shoved reddish-gold hair over broad shoulders. “If you ever speak directly to me again, it will mean your death. Depending how closely your kin followed orders, our brothers and sister are already here. This is not the only power point in this world.”
Looking mildly shaken, Amaya lowered her hazel gaze and slunk backward. She joined hands with several others. They raised their voices in a song that only partially muffled Aislinn’s mother’s wailing. Draped over her husband’s body, red hair dragging in the dirt, Tara Lenear’s Irish heritage came to the fore as she shrieked a wake for her beloved. Aislinn tried to join her, to hug her father one last time, but in what was one of her last sentient moments, her mother had stopped screaming and hustled them off the mountain.
It was only later, after the madness took root, that Aislinn realized it would have been far more merciful if Tara had joined Jacob that day. Her mother hadn’t been the only one to lose her mind in the face of the invasion—the six dark gods hadn’t lost much time creating gateways for their hell-spawned minions to scare the crap out of people—but Aislinn had needed her mother, goddammit. It hadn’t taken long for the truth to sink in: she’d lost both her parents on that South American mountain.
Then the Lemurians had shown up with their own brand of alien power. While they’d dealt fairly with her, Aislinn knew it was because she was gifted. The chilly indifference with which they’d dispatched humans who were either crazy or without magical ability still felt like an affront. She’d been raised to believe that all life had intrinsic value. The first time she’d floated that idea to a Lemurian, he’d laughed for a good thirty minutes. She hadn’t brought it up again.
Aislinn’s face twisted into a grimace. Even three years later, the memories horrified her. She shut her eyes, squeezing them so tightly that colors flashed behind her lids. Her father and mother were dead. They couldn’t help her anymore. There was no percentage in thinking about either of them. All it did was make her sad.
Pressing harder on the tattoos, she asked the Old Ones how to find Taltos. When the answer came, she understood that she’d known all along. It was part of the embedded memories, but she’d been so upset by Perrikus—and thinking about her parents—that she’d been at cross-purposes with herself.
Confident the gateway would show itself to her, assuming she survived the journey, Aislinn wondered about her invitation. Insofar as she knew, other than the brief indoctrination she’d gotten once she’d accepted her magic and agreed to help the Lemurians, no additional training had been offered to any other human. Had any of them ever been invited into the Old Ones’ domain before? Was she the first? The thought excited and frightened her at the same time.
“Let’s see.” She ticked off on her fingers. “Mage, Seeker, Seer, Healer, Hunter.” The spectrum of human powers. She had both Mage and Seeker talents. Her Mage gift gave her facility with spells. Most humans had only one skill. It was unusual, but not unheard of, to have two. Travis, for example, was a Hunter, but he had Healing talent also. Why would the Old Ones suddenly take such an interest in her? So what if one of the dark ones planned to rape her? It wasn’t any different than they’d done with countless human women. A harsh laugh escaped. Actually, the Old Ones and the enemy had one thing in common: a blatant disregard for human life. Aislinn figured the Old Ones were simply using her and others like her as pawns in their million-year-old battle against Perrikus and his cronies.
Feeling confused and vulnerable—and angry that her compliance with Metae’s orders was a foregone conclusion—Aislinn mapped out her journey. She needed to get to a sacred mountain in northern California. It was about a thousand miles from her current location, so it would take several jumps and at least two days. Maybe even three because her magic would need time to recover.