Awen Rising Read online

  Zipping her heaviest jacket against the cold, Emily transferred the Taser from her purse to her pocket. Wainwright had assured her the neighborhood was safe, but still. In spite of the early hour, dark had descended.

  **

  Alone in her dressing room, Shalane Carpenter took an ice mask from the freezer and held it to her face. Her eye ached like a devil-worm was eating its way into her brain. A quiet knock sounded at the door.

  “Go away!” she snapped. The knock came again, more insistent.

  “Open up, sweetheart. It’s Cecil.”

  “Go away, dammit. All I ask is five minutes. Five lousy minutes, before you or anyone else rushes in to smother me.”

  “Five minutes. Gotcha,” her husband said a bit too thinly. “Better yet, how ‘bout I change and give you fifteen?”

  Shame colored Shalane’s answer. “That’s great, baby. I’ll see you then.” Fumbling in the drawer for the pain pills, she dumped two in her hand and swallowed them dry.

  Fetching an Erlanger, she tipped the frosty bottle and guzzled half. Some dribbled down the dimple in Shalane’s chin. Wiping it, she collapsed on the sofa and held the ice mask to her eye.

  She couldn’t take the pain much longer. If it didn’t end soon, Shalane would either die or kill someone.

  Quoth the Raven

  T he wind’s icy fingers tore at Emily when she stepped outside. Squealing, she shimmied and pranced on the landing, then settled into a quick stretch. The main house loomed before her, its impressive outline brooding in the dark. A single light glowed in an upstairs window. The caretakers must’ve retired early.

  A hard-pack driveway led past the main house and disappeared in the dense forest. Trees crouched on all sides, looming above the long lane and concealing the houses from the world. The hardwoods were still mostly bare, but the conifers provided protection this time of year. Mitchell was right. The estate was an oasis surrounded by city.

  Closing her eyes, Emily stretched and focused on the swirling energies. The neighborhood’s vibe was calm and quiet, old and rather stately. By contrast, Atlanta felt big and bawdy, like Los Angeles had back in the day.

  Loose and ready, she jogged down the unlit driveway and into the night. Turning right at the road, Emily retraced the route they had followed earlier. A dog barked and she crossed the street.

  Glowing street lamps provided ample lighting, easing some of her apprehension. She paused at an intersection and looked both ways before loping across. The night was quiet, save her footfall and the peripheral sounds of the city.

  Houses similar in size to her father’s sat back from the street, yards professionally-lit and landscaped. A few hid completely behind imposing fences, some had a visible garage or carriage house. But none rivaled Wren’s Roost. And none bore any sign of the ravages of marauders or gangs.

  The few cars parked on the narrow street were late-model electrics and fission-hybrids. A dog woofed and Emily missed a step, nerves on edge. Another answered from down the street. Why couldn’t the buggers be quiet like cats?

  Her muscles warmed and sweat moistened her brow, despite the chill. Her worries melted away as the downhill curved to hug a babbling creek. Halfway up the next hill, her mind turned to the rude attorney.

  Mitchell Wainwright had been charming at first. Emily had wanted to like him. But her father’s attorney was an asshole. One that wielded some sort of power over her new family. The Hesters were afraid of Wainwright, and little wonder. The man came across as a little unbalanced with an edge of crazy.

  A Jeep Traveler lumbered through the next intersection. Emily crossed and settled into a slow rhythm, striding in time to the city’s pulse. A raven cawed, sending chills up her spine. The night darkened. Tree limbs rattled in a high, icy wind.

  Alarmed, Emily turned and picked up the pace for several blocks. She reached the creek bottom where a fine mist crept along the ground. Her shoes dampened and her nerves unraveled.

  This sidewalk was different, cracked and tilted, the yards overgrown and wild. The houses were small, shabby boxes lit by garish street lights. She had definitely not come this way. In windows hung sheets, or rebel flags, or nothing at all.

  A rusting car leered from the driveway of a cinderblock house. Gang symbols scrawled across it in red spray paint. Hearing a fierce snarl, Emily skittered to the centerline just in time. A skeletal Rottweiler leapt at her, yelping when it slammed against the end of its chain.

  She bit off a scream and executed a perfect pirouette to sprint in the opposite direction. Chastising herself for running at night in unknown territory, she fumbled for her cell phone and had a sinking realization. She’d forgotten to grab it from the nightstand.

  Of all the things to forget. She patted the reassuring Taser in her pocket.

  At the top of the hill, the fog disappeared and the neighborhood took a turn for the better. Emily charged toward the glow of gas lanterns, but the street ended there.

  Ahead was a grassy knoll and an entrance to what appeared to be a park of some sort. This was all wrong. Adrenaline spiking, Emily’s heart pounded. Tell-tale dots clouded her vision. She wheeled in one direction and then the other. It was all unfamiliar.

  Houses lined both ends of the street with the park in the middle. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her exertion-warmed hands turned clammy and cold.

  A dog barked. Another bayed in answer. They sounded close. Emily squinted in the three directions, cursing herself for leaving her iBlast at the house. Clamping down on the rising panic, she covered her face and retraced her steps in her head.

  A wintry wind whistled down the avenue, thrashing bony branches and exciting dead leaves that still clung to the trees. The clatter rose to a shimmering crescendo, then fell silent. In the ensuing calm, Emily thought she heard singing deep in the woods.

  Into the night, a woman’s crystalline soprano rose, answered by a man’s resounding vibrato. The words were unintelligible, but Emily found herself moving in the direction of the melody, her quest for home forgotten.

  She stepped onto the trail and lanterns sprang to life at her feet, lighting her way. The wind shrieked. Dead leaves and dry branches rattled around her in a wanton riot, drowning out the song again. But her feet drew her onward.

  Up the rise and down a vale, then up another she marched, following the snatches of song to a summit encircling a bowl-like depression. Skeletal trees circled the rim, arms lifted in supplication.

  Urgency bloomed in Emily’s chest; her life depended upon knowing what was happening down there in that hollow. She crept toward the edge and flattened her belly to the leaf-strewn earth, then crawled between the trees. Below her was the grove with the silvery birches.

  Emily’s eyes widened in disbelief. In the middle of the clearing, singers danced around the shimmering fountain. She was far from Wren’s Roost, indeed.

  **

  Bran the Raven Elder blinked from his perch in the leafless elm. The Awen had finally returned to the magical stronghold of Wren’s Roost. Long had the rogue druid succeeded in hiding her. Long had she been denied her gifts.

  Now Earth’s final hours drew near. If the druids were to succeed in stopping the Darkness, the Awen must awaken. Or else.

  To that end, Bran had resorted to trickery. A rite had been assembled in the local grove. It’d been up to him to lure the new Awen to the glade. Here, the Animal Elders—the collective receptacles of the Awen’s memories and magical powers—would confer them upon her.

  Bran spread his ancient wings and circled the clearing, swooping low over the initiates to settle on the rim of the fountain. He faced the once and future-Awen and summoned the Elders. Animal magic pulsed through the clearing and smoldered in the hills, thrumming to the synchronic beat of the drums.

  One by one, the Elders appeared—Shevug the falcon, Primus the lion, Cu the wolfhound, Muc, Torc, Cat, Tarv, Faol, E-ach, Corr, Art, Ron, Dobhran, and the others. All but the dragons did Bran muster; they answered only to the Awen and themsel
ves.

  The ghostly animals surrounded the dancers, filling the grove’s sacred space. Magic rose into the night and hung like a veil, enshrouding the clearing and sealing the participants inside a magical world invisible to prying eyes.

  **

  In a semi-circle around the couple, fifteen robed figures chanted and swayed to a drum pulsing from an unseen source. A raven whooshed past Emily, drawing her gaze. It circled the clearing and landed on the fountain.

  The maiden’s song continued uninterrupted, low and sweet and haunting. The male’s tenor answered, a deep, dulcet tone of longing and need. Tears sprang to Emily’s eyes and sadness filled her until she was one big, throbbing ache.

  **

  The couple whirled, feet flying above the ground as the drums beat faster. When the dancers were little more than a blur, Bran let go a loud shriek that split the night. Halos of magic emanated from him and the other Elders. The hums, hisses, roars, and chatter joined forces, and the individual spells coalesced into a magical glowing mass that swirled overhead.

  When it filled the hollow, a thin silver channel formed at the bottom, spiraling like the tail of a cyclone. It searched and found the woman on the rise. Attaching to her, the funnel anchored deep into her psyche, and with a blinding flash, the Awen’s magical powers poured into the waiting vessel.

  **

  Longing pierced Emily’s heart as she watched the play being enacted below. Only she was the girl. And it wasn’t a play. She was wise and ancient, yet young and fair of face. The man was dark and ruggedly handsome.

  They were drawn together by some irresistible force, then melted into one. Conscious thought fled as they were whisked away on a steed of black night. Through an inky sky they flew, memories flashing in kaleidoscopic fragments. A blazing fire. A thin white robe. Soft fur pelt. Thunder crashing. A coupling, wild and passionate. Then suddenly, violently, they were ripped apart.

  Unable to hold the vision any longer, Emily’s eyes flew open. Where the dancers had been, a multitude of ghostly animals gazed upwards—at her. The raven chattered and flapped in their midst. Emily recoiled and hid her face in the musty leaves. Surely she was seeing things.

  But when she peeked, the animals were still there. One by one the apparitions bowed to Emily and disappeared. The raven cawed, loud and long, and took flight. As it did, the moon wavered and dipped behind a cloud. Dark settled, leaving Emily alone in the woods.

  Lost and Found

  T he ghostly figures had barely faded when a series of high-pitched yelps exploded from somewhere behind Emily. She scrambled upright and dusted leaves from her belly and legs.

  She didn’t much care for dogs. In fact, she abhorred them. They tended to fall into one of three categories: too accommodating, too needy, or too freaking scary. This one sounded the latter. Just her luck she had to go that way.

  But where was the trail? She shoved through a tangle of bare bushes she didn’t remember and wished for her phone and its powerful flashlight. An automatic sensor flicked on at her feet and she nearly screamed. She followed the lights toward the barking dog.

  Tree limbs formed a canopy overhead, menacing in a way Emily hadn’t noticed before. The heebie jeebies grabbed hold of her, and she bolted, grateful for the sensors that flicked on at her approach.

  When an owl hooted over her head in a cry that echoed the north wind, she ducked, half expecting it to turn into a ghost and disappear. Near the edge of the woods, she came to an abrupt halt. The dog had stopped barking.

  Heart pounding, she held her breath to listen. All she heard was the wind in the dry leaves. Then a snuffle came from the bushes to her right. She wheeled as a tall creature parted from the shadows and reared to attack.

  Emily juked and backpedaled, but the animal’s huge paws landed square on her shoulders and knocked her flat. She yelled and wiggled free, only to be pinned again.

  “Help!” she hollered, covering her face. But instead of ripping her throat out, the dog slathered her hands in wet kisses. Squirming away, she made it to all fours and leapt upright.

  Pointing a shaky finger, she commanded, “Stay!”

  Miraculously, the dog obeyed.

  A kid bundled in a chartreuse ski jacket and stocking cap crashed through the bushes and grabbed the giant dog’s leash.

  “Bad Cu! Bad! Heel!” the boy scolded.

  The dog did.

  “Are you okay? Cu wouldn’t normally hurt a fly. I don’t know what got into him. I’m really sorry.”

  “Just keep him away from me,” Emily snapped. But the dog whined forlornly. Its shaggy face looked like a terrier’s, only it was tall, a good three feet at the shoulders. She touched its wiry hair with a tentative hand and scratched gently.

  The boy wrinkled his nose. “I’m Brian. And this is Cu.”

  “I’m Emily. Nice to meet you.” The prancing dog led them to the road. “Any idea which way Wren’s Lane might be?”

  “Thataway.” The boy pointed in the one direction Emily wouldn’t have suspected—the way she had come.

  “Are you sure?” She edged away when the dog tried to lick her face.

  “Yeah, it’s near my house. Well, my uncle’s. I’m staying with him. Want us to show you the way?”

  Emily hesitated only a second. He might be a kid, but his dog was scary. It’d be good protection, especially through the run-down neighborhood. “That would be great.”

  Neither of them spoke for the first block, or the second. But as they crossed to the third, a dog barked behind them. Cu wheeled abruptly and galloped to the fence, dragging Brian with him. A car horn blared, speeding toward the intersection.

  Emily leapt into the street and shoved Brian just in time. They landed in a heap on the shoulder of the road. Cu barked at the retreating car and ran circles around them.

  “They almost ran me over!” Brian gasped, trying to stand. But the leash was wrapped around their legs. He stumbled and fell on top of Emily. Cu pounced, licking his face.

  “Stop!” he moaned. He thrashed about and the leash tightened around Emily’s legs. Cu’s warm tongue found her cheek.

  Cringing away, she snapped at Brian, “Stop moving. We’re tied together. And your bony elbow is jabbing me.”

  Cu danced to the other side and the leash loosened. Emily untangled one leg and then the other. Scrambling to her feet, she freed Brian. He stood, eyes wide in the purple street light, rubbing his shoulder.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. No. Cu ‘bout yanked my arm out of its socket.” He bent forward to stretch and laughed a little shakily. “And my bones are bruised from where you tackled me. How ‘bout you?”

  She fingered her sore chest and ribs. “I have an elbow-sized dent, but I’m pretty sure nothing’s broken.” Another car whizzed by, going too fast.

  The cold wind penetrated Emily’s thin jacket and her teeth chattered. She pointed toward Wren’s Roost. “The house I’m staying at is over there. Want to come let me check you for injuries?”

  “Nah.” He tugged a cell phone from his yellow parka and pointed to the left. “I’m only a coupla blocks thataway. I’d better get back before Uncle Lugh gets home.”

  Emily stared at the wavy black hair and Roman nose. “Your uncle’s not Lugh MacBrayer, is he?” The dark eyes grew bigger.

  “You know Uncle Lugh?”

  “I met him today at Jocko’s. Small world.” This day had been full of surprises.

  “That’s his restaurant. We’d better get going. He’ll shoot me if I’m not home when he gets there.”

  “I’m sure he worries. Are you positive you’re okay? I can walk you home.” Maybe she’d get lucky and see Lugh. If she had known they were related, she could’ve pressed Brian for details. Like whether Lugh had a girlfriend. Or shit—a wife. Though he hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go, Cu. See ya, Emily.” He tugged the dog’s leash and they hurried down the street.

  A vague disappointment gn
awed at Emily’s gut. “Be careful of cars,” she yelled after him.

  The kid threw up an arm as one growled past.

  Emily turned toward Wren’s Roost rubbing her sore breast. She jogged the last block, pondering the scary neighborhood. It had vanished without a trace. Like the singers in the park. And the ghostly animals. Where had they gone? Or was Emily going crazy?

  She reached the dark driveway and hesitated. Was this the right place? There was there no security light. Or mailbox. The wind whipped around Emily and whistled down the tunnel formed by the tall pines and naked hardwoods. She was almost certain this was Wren’s Roost.

  Shivering, she followed the narrow lane. Limbs swayed and creaked, twanging her nerves. The driveway curved and the lights of the carriage house blazed ahead. Thankful, she jogged past the brooding main house.

  “HOLY HELL!” she screeched, skidding to a halt.

  An enormous striped cat leapt from the woods in front of her and crouched in the road hissing. Emily teetered on tiptoes, not sure what to do. The cat growled and arched its back, then ran to the carriage house and up the steps to pace the landing, meowing.

  Emily drew the Taser from her pocket and approached with caution. The cat plopped in front of the door and eyed her expectantly. She mounted the steps slowly. The cat turned to lick its shoulder.

  “You’re kinda big for a house cat. But you don’t act feral.”

  It ignored her and purred, busily washing its hindquarters. So, it wasn’t a wildcat.

  “Do you belong to a neighbor?” She moved to the side and gestured toward the driveway. “Shoo! Go home.”

  But the striped cat cocked its large head and stared at the door, at Emily, at the door, then back at her again. Like Ralph when he wanted to be let in. She let go an exasperated breath.

  Getting lost at night had been freaky enough, the spectacle in the clearing more so. She’d been attacked by a dog, saved Lugh MacBrayer’s nephew from death by car, and now the biggest domestic cat she’d ever seen wanted in her father’s house. This, she had control over. Here she drew the line.