Earth's Requiem(119)

Aislinn had eaten until she felt full enough to burst. In between bites, washed down with plenty of mead, she told them about Slototh. “I asked Dewi this.” She glanced around at the men. “Now I’m asking you. Do you think he’s dead?”

All four shook their heads.

“Well, if he’s not dead, where is he?”

“If we got verra lucky, he’s back in the world that spawned him,” Arawn answered, a murderous look in his dark eyes. “Fionn is not the only one of us who’s tangled with that one.”

“Is there any way to know for sure?” Aislinn asked. She’d feel a whole lot better if she knew Slototh wouldn’t be lurking in some dark corridor, lying in wait for her.

“Nay,” Bran said. “I’m thinking we would be better off trying to solve the human hybrid problem.”



Bella squawked from where she’d taken up residence atop the refrigerator.

“What about the other dark gods?” Aislinn asked.

“Aye, there is that problem as well.” Gwydion shot a lascivious look her way.

Fionn must have noticed, because he glared at Gwydion.

“Stop it, you two.” Aislinn rolled her eyes. “I thought we were supposed to be figuring out what to do next.” She looked first at Fionn, then at Gwydion. “I am not Tara. Mother was only a girl when the two of you started haggling over her—”

Aislinn’s jaw clanged shut. Quick as a nod, she was on her feet, hands raised to meet the magic she felt coming toward them. Rune stood next to her, growling. Though she hadn’t seen him move, Fionn was somehow by her side, with Bella on his shoulder. Gwydion, Arawn, and Bran closed ranks, making a wall in front of them. She glanced at Gwydion’s staff, but it wasn’t glowing. Did that mean something magical wasn’t coming? Or was it that the magic wasn’t a threat? She couldn’t tell from the warrior magician’s demeanor. He looked grimly ready for anything.

The air shimmered on the far side of the room. Travis and his civet took shape.

Aislinn blew out a breath. “What the hell, Travis? You scared the crap out of me.”

“Hmph.” Fionn’s face darkened. It was obvious he remembered the Hunter all too well.

Travis looked from one to the other. “Thank God I came out in the right place. I left in a hurry, and I wasn’t sure I had it just right.”

“What’s happened, lad?” Bran asked, concern etched in his face. “Ye sought us out. There must be a reason.”

Bella flew around the room, cawing. The civet hissed at the bird.

Fionn grabbed his raven out of the air. “If ye doona behave better, I’ll be shipping you back to the Old Country.”

“You would never do that,” the bird informed him haughtily. She pulled out of his grasp and landed lightly on the top of the kitchen door.

“Watch me,” Fionn said tightly. His gaze settled on Travis. “I suggest you talk, lad. Something is amiss. I see it in your eyes.”

Travis nodded. “We’re under attack. From the Old Ones.”

Aislinn gasped. “Holy crap! That’s terrible. We figured they’d turn on us, but not this soon. What happened?”

“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “We’d just gotten back from Arizona and were settling in—you know, hunting and trying to get some rest—when a whole herd of them closed on us. We didn’t think anything of it. I mean, we’d never seen quite that many in one place before, but we figured they were just going to give us more orders.” He took an uneven breath. “We wanted to act normal so they wouldn’t know we were onto them.”



Travis looked down. His jaw worked. Aislinn figured he was struggling for control. “They just started killing us. Stopped our hearts where we stood.” His voice broke. He cleared his throat and went on. “Some of us have stronger magic than others. We threw up wards and jumped out of there. Later, once we’d had a chance to think, we decided the best thing was to see if you’d help us. I volunteered to come here because my jumps are the most accurate.”

“What were your losses?” Gwydion asked.

“Twenty-something when I left. Probably more than that now.”

Travis dragged his gaze, brown flecked with his green power color, up off the floor and looked at each of them in turn. He settled on Aislinn last. Pleading shone from the depths of his eyes. “Please,” he said. “We need help.”

“And you’ll get it,” Aislinn snapped, outraged by what had happened. After shoving a goodly portion of the Earth’s population into that damned vortex, now the Lemurians were simply killing the rest of them outright. What had the vortex been? Something just for show?