Heart's Desire
a novel of the Wild Hunt
Book 1 in the Beth-Hill Series
This book is dedicated to my Mom and Dad, in whose woods the Wild Hunt will always roam.
As such, and since the Hounds are indeed bound to their Master--and, as such, are reflections of their Master, then would it be so impossible to wonder if they, too, have a human form?
--Excerpt from a paper written by Lucas Lane at age 17.
Binding the Hunt
Part 1
1.
When the smoke cleared and the last howl died away, Peter opened his eyes and stared at the destruction.
The Hunt had not been easy to bind. Bodies littered the clearing, some still and obviously dead, others merely stunned, as Peter had been mere moments before.
It would take days to clean up the evidence of this night. Perhaps Stefan would--
The thought crystallized inside of Peter's mind. Stefan. He scrambled up, ignoring the shooting pain in his legs, and stumbled across the devastation until he reached the circle.
The Master of the Hunt lay inside the circle, his eyes closed, his chest still. Peter had not been close enough to him to tell if he normally breathed, but didn't all living creatures--mundane or supernatural--have to breathe at one time or another?
He drew himself up and tried to quench the fear that still shivered through his heart. Tried to push past the pain. He was the only conscious member of the Council, and the Wild Hunt was now under Council control.
"Gabriel." His voice cracked, so he tried again. "Gabriel."
The Master of the Hunt stirred. His eyelids fluttered, but he did not awaken.
The Council's shared power was depleted from the binding, but Peter found enough left to tweak the circle. The Master of the Hunt groaned.
He looked human now, or more human than he had before. The unearthly glow that surrounded both the Master and the Hunt had faded as the battle raged, leaving Gabriel a mere shadow of his former self.
"Gabriel." This time, Peter found enough strength to back his order with power.
The Master of the Hunt opened his eyes. For a moment, Peter did not think he realized where he lay, but those silver eyes narrowed when he saw Peter standing on the other side of the circle.
Gabriel pushed himself up. It must have hurt; Peter saw pain flit across his face before it vanished under his habitual mask, but he seemed whole.
"Gabriel, where are your Hounds?"
At Peter's question, the pain returned. This time, Gabriel could not mask it. He stayed on his knees, swaying a little, and stared at the desolation around them.
The Master of the Hunt opened his mouth and licked his lips. "Dead."
Shock pinned Peter in place. He choked on his next question, swallowed it, and took a deep breath. "All dead? All of them?"
Gabriel closed his eyes. "You have your wish, wizard. You've bound me. Why should I give you my Hounds?"
"Because your Hounds--"
Nora's harsh voice broke through the silence. "Because you are bound to do the Council's bidding, dog, and your Hounds are part of your Hunt."
Peter saw Gabriel's eyes kindle fire. The Master of the Hunt rose to his feet, his face taut with pain. He took a step forward, seemed to remember the circle, and glared at Nora and Peter.
"If I were not bound to this circle, you would be dead, witch." He fairly spat the words.
Nora tweaked the circle's binding a bit harder than Peter had dared. Gabriel staggered back and fell to his knees.
"Where are your Hounds?"
The Master of the Hunt's gaze swept across the devastation. "Dead. I told you."
Nora didn't tweak the circle this time. She reached out and pulled. Gabriel's breath hissed from between his teeth.
"You've bound me, witch--"
"I think you might find our binding a lot easier to bear if you accepted it and answered Nora's question." This voice belonged to Peter's mentor and uncle, Nathan Lane. He was not the eldest Council member, but Peter privately thought he was the most powerful wizard in all of Beth-Hill. He walked with the aid of a cane most of the time, but it had been destroyed in the struggle. Now he leaned heavily on a tree branch, looking all the more like a druid of old.
"You forced me into this binding and you expect me to cooperate with you?" Gabriel's voice dripped with scorn. "Why should I?"
"It would make the next century bearable for all of us," Nathan said mildly. "More especially for you and your Hounds."
"I will still be here long after you and your Council crumble to dust," Gabriel snapped.
"Perhaps you will," Nathan agreed, unperturbed. "But you will still be bound." He stepped up to the very edge of the circle. "I could force you to tell us where your Hounds hide. I could force you to tell us how your Hunt came into being. I could force you to serve the Council in the basest of manner, but I only ask that you answer a simple question of your own free will."
Peter held his breath as Gabriel stared at Nathan. For a long moment, he though the Master of the Hunt would refuse, but then Gabriel nodded.
"You speak the truth," he said. "You could force me to do all these things." He hesitated. "But why--" His gaze slipped to Nora, who stood beside Peter, still glowering. "But why do you not?"
Nathan smiled. "Because the Council would not wish that existence on its worst enemy," he said. "You are bound to us, yes. But only because we did not wish to kill you or your Hounds."
"But I wish to kill you," Gabriel said. His smile chilled Peter's soul. "If I were free, you would be dead now. Have no doubt of that."
"You were not summoned here to kill us," Nathan said.
"True. But the person who summoned me here is dead. You--" With a shrug, Gabriel dismissed those he and his Hounds had killed. "You kept me from my task."
"Where are your Hounds?" Nathan asked, refusing to rise to the bait.
Gabriel stared at him for a long moment. "They are dead."
"All of them?" Nathan asked.
"Six still live," Gabriel whispered. Peter saw the strength of his true desire shine in his gaze. He shivered. His arms prickled with goosebumps.
Now it was Nathan's turn to hesitate. "And Stefan?"
Peter's heart gave a rabbity lurch in his chest at Stefan's name.
Gabriel shrugged. "I don't know. I feel six lives." He closed his eyes. "Weak. Some fading. All in agony because of you."
"You are their Master," Nathan said. "We tried our best to end this peacefully."
Gabriel shook his head. "My Hunt has never known peace."
"Then it is far past time that you know it," Nathan said. "Where are your Hounds?"
Gabriel closed his eyes.
"Where are they?" Nora lurched forward and came dangerously close to the circle's edge. "Where did you hide them?"
Gabriel opened his eyes. "You shielded Stefan from me."
"We tried," Nathan said. "Did we fail?"
"I do not sense him among the dead," Gabriel whispered.
"Nor among the living?" Nathan asked.
Gabriel nodded. "Nor among the living."
"Peter." Nathan did not turn around. "Are you hurt?"
"I'll live." He could ignore his wounds to discover what had happened to Stefan.
"I need you to--"
Nora shook her head and grabbed Nathan's arm. "No. Send the Hunt to find him."
"But they'll kill us!" For a moment, Peter forgot about the binding; forgot about the terrible price the Council had paid to leash the Master of the Hunt. He remembered the terror of the past few months--that horrible realization that a dead man had summoned something he couldn't control.
And how it had fallen to the Council to fix things.
"No. The Hunt is bound to the Council now. In effect, we are their Masters. Am I correct, Gabriel?"
Gabriel hesitated, then nodded, as if loathe to admit such a thing. "But once your binding has ended--"
"A hundred years from now," Nathan said. "The world will be different, and so will you."
"And you will be dead." Gabriel said this without any heat at all, merely stating a fact.
Nathan nodded. "That's true. By then I'll be dead. But the Council will still live, and you are bound by the Council, not any single person."
"What would you have me do, then?" Gabriel asked.
"He'll try to kill one of us the second you erase the circle," Peter whispered, his throat dry. He'd seen the Hunt's victims, after all. All too clearly.
"He'll find out he cannot," Nathan said, and scuffed out one line of the circle with the toe of his boot.
In a flash, Gabriel stood on the other side, far too close to Peter for comfort.
Madness and pain ruled in his silver gaze, trapping Peter where he stood. Gabriel's lips drew back from his teeth in a soundless growl.
But nothing happened. Gabriel didn't attack. Instead, he waited for Nathan's order, like a servant would wait for his Master's call.
"Find Stefan," Nathan said. "Dead or alive--and bring him back to the Council's house as soon as you find him."
"Obviously we want him alive," Nora said.
"Obviously," Gabriel said, and for a moment, Peter thought that the Master of the Hunt was laughing at them.
After all, what was a century to the Master of the Wild Hunt?
"If he will not come, then do not force him," Nathan said. "Report back to me."
"Very well." Gabriel waited for a moment more, but Nathan had nothing left to add. With one last glance at Peter, the Master of the Hunt turned on his heel and vanished into the forest, just as the sun broke through the haze leftover from the destruction.
Peter remembered to breathe only after he tried to speak. "He--"
"The Hunt can harm no one, save on the order of the Council," Nathan said. "I suggest we leave Gabriel to his Hunt and see to the wounded."
In all, five Council members died binding the Master of the Hunt. Peter could only console himself in the fact that Gabriel had lost more Hounds. For five days, he helped care for the wounded and cleared the evidence from the forest so no one would stumble upon the remains of the carnage.
On the sixth day, when Gabriel had not returned with Stefan in tow, Nathan used the binding to call him out of the forest.
The Master of the Hunt appeared near to dusk, a much-reduced gaggle of Hounds ranging around his legs. Peter studied them as they approached. Although Gabriel masked the pain well, there were small clues in his posture and bearing that told Peter all was not well. And his Hounds seemed dazed and unsure of themselves; no longer the fierce harbingers of death that had terrorized Beth-Hill for so long.
Peter had never purposely harmed an animal before in his life, but he wanted to beat those Hounds within an inch of their unholy lives for what they had done. But he knew they had no true choice but to obey their Master's every whim.
Gabriel's eyes glittered in the dying light. "I have not found him," he said before Nathan could speak.
One of the Hounds whined, then cringed back when Gabriel turned to stare at it. He did not speak, but the Hound quivered as if he had shouted.
"You don't need to punish them for your failure," Nathan said softly.
Gabriel shook his head. "They are my Hounds. They belong to me, not you, old man."
"But you belong to us," Nathan said, unperturbed. "Or must I remind you of that?"
The binding shimmered between them, a connection that would not fade in Peter's lifetime. A century seemed like an eternity to Peter, but he knew it would only be a blink of Gabriel's eye. That the Council had been able to bind the Hunt still surprised him. Something as--mythical as the Wild Hunt did not seem like it could be bound.
"No." Gabriel ground out the words between clenched teeth. "You needn't remind me. I cannot help but feel your binding, wizard."
"Is he alive?" Peter blurted out.
"I have found no scent of him in the forest," Gabriel said. "He may be dead."
"And he may yet be alive," Nathan said. "We cannot give up. Keep searching for any sign of him, Gabriel."
"Very well."
But in the end, Stefan came to the Council instead of the Hunt.
Less than a week later, Peter saw a dark shape slink behind the Council safehouse, hugging the shadows along the walls as if it did not wish to be seen. Curious, he stepped off the lighted path and into the shadows--and found himself staring into the gaze of madness.
"Peter." Stefan's eyes glittered in the reflected light from the path.
"Stefan!" Peter quelled the fear that leapt into his throat and tried to smile. "We hoped you survived. Where have you been?"
"Did you send that bastard after me?" Stefan bared his teeth. "Did you?" He grabbed Peter's arm with a bruising grip.
"I--Nathan--" No, it had been Nora. "Nora thought it best."
Stefan spat something on the ground that started to smolder in the dry grass. "Of course."
"We hoped you survived," Peter said lamely, trying to understand his anger. "We tried to shield you from the worst of the--"
Stefan's grip tightened. "Hush."
"But I--"
"Stefan, let him go."
Relief weakened Peter's knees at the sound of Nathan's voice. He tried to twist out of Stefan's grip, but the other man only tightened his hold.
"Why? So he can run to you again?" Stefan grinned. "I think not."
"We tried to shield you from the brunt--"
"Silence, old man," Stefan said. "Do you realize what you did? You almost killed her!"
Peter's heart lurched. He licked his lips. "H-her?"
"Brenna. Damn you." Peter did not see Stefan's hand move, but a knife appeared in his free hand. Moonlight shimmered off the blade.
"Stefan!" The rest of Peter's protest lodged in his throat. Again, he tried to pull away. Again, he failed to break Stefan's grip.
"You do realize she's lost to me now," Stefan hissed. "No matter what I do, I can't have her back."
"I'm very sorry to hear that," Nathan said, "but there's no reason to take it out on Peter--"
"Yes, there is," Stefan bared his teeth again, but dropped the knife. "I will admit I've grown quite fond of human flesh--"
Something small and bright zipped past Peter's left shoulder and hit Stefan in the chest. It smoldered where it landed, and then Stefan's clothes burst into flames.
To put out the fire, Stefan had to release Peter's arm. Peter staggered back, behind Nathan, gasping for air.
"This isn't over," Stefan hissed, cradling a burned arm to his chest. "This isn't over, Nathan. I'll see you punished for what you've done to her."
Before Peter could react, Stefan shifted into a hound and vanished into the darkness. Peter thought he saw a smaller shape detach itself from the shadows and follow him, but he couldn't be certain.
He rubbed his arm and stared after them. "What--What do you plan to do?"
Nathan sighed. "It's truly unfortunate that Stefan's daughter was taken by the Hunt," he said. "But there is little the Council can do now."
"Stefan's daughter?" Peter stared at his mentor in shock. "But--"
"He never married Brenna's mother," Nathan said. "But evidently, when his daughter was taken, he decided to volunteer for the task."
The 'task' had been a terrible risk--allowing a member of the Council to become a Hound to infiltrate the Wild Hunt. The experiment had worked, after a fashion; Stefan had been able to keep a small measure of independance despite Gabriel's iron hold on his Hounds.
"Can't--Can't Gabriel just change her back?" Peter asked. Was such a thing even possible?
"Gabriel has no control over Stefan or his daughter," Nathan said. "And to even consider that possibility, we would have to find Stefan and he would have to be willing to work with us. And so would Gabriel."
"But--" There had to be a solution.
Nathan didn't reply. He turned and limped back into the safehouse, an old man again. Peter watched him go.
Why wouldn't he try to find a way to free them? Peter remembered the mad look in Stefan's eyes and wondered if there was anything left of his mind to save. What if Gabriel couldn't release him or his daughter? What if they were trapped this way for the rest of their lives?
Peter's eyes pricked with tears as the image of the small group of graves rose into his mind. Veronica had been one of the first Council members killed. He missed her sharp wit and equally sharp spellcasting.
And most of the deaths stemmed from the attempt to shield one of their own from the binding. Peter couldn't forget that either.
In the end, safe in the knowledge that Nathan could find him at any time using the Council's shared power, Peter slipped away from the safehouse and vanished into the forest.
He told himself he was not going after Stefan, but the trail was too easy to follow.
He walked for miles, trusting the stars to tell him which way lay home. After two hours, he heard the roar of a waterfall, and knew exactly how far into the forest he had traveled.
Nathan had explained that the forests of Faerie and the forests of the Human Realm had similar layouts. Thus, the awesome waterfall and rushing river that lay in the middle of the forest surrounding Beth-Hill had a twin in Faerie that was even more spectacular.
Peter had yet to visit Faerie to see it. The mundane waterfall was beauty enough.
And on the other side, for those foolhardy enough to try to cross the raging river, pocket portals glowed between the crossed branches of trees and a natural arch of stone. This was treacherous territory. The wild portals could trap the unwary in Faerie--or places Peter did not want to imagine.
Stefan stood on the edge of the bank, staring down into the water. The small, dark shape of Brenna sheltered in his shadow.
Peter had never even seen her as a human. But surely no one deserved that fate. Surely the Council should tear Gabriel's remaining Hounds away from him and set them free--
"Why did you follow me, boy?" Stefan's harsh voice carried easily over the roar of the waterfall.
Peter flushed, even though he realized Stefan was only baiting him. "I'm no boy. I'll turn seventeen in two weeks."
Stefan snorted. "You are no man. What do you want?"
Peter tested the shared power that would allow Nathan to find him instantly, but he sensed no awareness from the other Council members. In fact, Nathan seemed a bit annoyed that he wasn't in the sickrooms caring for the wounded. Peter felt a flush of shame at that.
"I want you to--" Why had he followed Stefan? "Most of the deaths were due to shielding you from the binding, did you know that?"
Stefan still did not turn around. "No. I did not know that." He hesitated. "I was too busy trying to save my daughter's life!"
"If you had told us the truth before volunteering to be a Hound--" Peter could not erase the contempt from his voice. Too many people had died without knowing Stefan's true reasons for risking his life.
Stefan spun around. "You know nothing, boy! You know nothing, and you never will know. You will die wondering if you could have prevented--" A sword appeared in his hand, glittering and deadly in the moonlight.
Peter stepped back. "Stefan, don't be hasty. I came--"
Stefan lunged.
The moonlight tricked the gaze and made sharp blades seem farther away. Peter thought he was far enough out of range until he felt cold steel slide into his stomach, tearing through skin and muscle until it poked out the other side.
The pain nearly overwhelmed him. He fell back and choked on a scream, blood thick and wet under his fingers.
Stefan stood above him and raised his sword for the killing blow.
A whisper of sound was the only warning Peter had before Gabriel appeared beside him, one pale hand upraised to grasp the sword's blade as it descended. Stefan hissed in surprise and tried to jerk the sword away, but Gabriel held fast.
"You do not want to fight me," the Master of the Hunt whispered. Even though the pain, Peter had no trouble hearing him.
Stefan grimaced. "You destroyed my life and the life of my daughter. Why shouldn't I kill you?"
"You could try, but it would be folly." Black blood seeped through Gabriel's clenched fingers, but he did not seem to notice. "I have nothing left to live for, after all. But you do." With his free hand, he pointed to where Brenna crouched.
Peter tried to sit up. He felt Nathan's alarm through the shared link to the other Council members, but he couldn't gather his wits enough to cast any spells. The pain was too great.
Gabriel spared him a glance. "Stay where you are or you'll bleed to death, Peter."
Stefan sneered. "So now you're the Council's protector? I thought you wanted them dead!"
"I--I was not summoned here to murder the Council." Gabriel's mouth twisted. "They prevented me from achieving my goal. But even bindings such as this one can be worked to my advantage."
Peter tried to fit his mind around this new acceptance, but the pain prevented him from concentrating on the marvel.
Stefan seemed to have trouble with it as well. "You did not bring your Hounds," he finally commented, sounding almost sane.
"Yes, I did," Gabriel said. "They wished to see your death as much as I do." At his words, the six remaining Hounds flowed from the depths of the forest and surrounded their Master. Peter was close enough to make out each individual hair on their bodies. Too close. He could not choke back a whimper of fear.
Stefan bared his teeth. "My death?"
With a twist of his hand that had to hurt, Gabriel tore the sword from Stefan's grasp and threw it on the ground. "How long will you survive before the Council orders me to Hunt you down, Stefan? They will not tolerate your thirst for blood."
Instead of replying, Stefan launched himself, not at Gabriel, but at his Hounds. He changed in midair, twisting sideways as he bore one Hound down under his teeth.
Gabriel shouted something Peter didn't catch and the other Hounds attacked.
And then, something impossible happened. Peter thought he'd lost so much blood he was hallucinating, at first. The Hound Stefan had attacked first stumbled out of the fray and shifted its shape. Instead of a Hound, a man no older than Peter crouched on the ground, bleeding from a dozen wounds from Stefan's teeth and claws. He wore human clothes; held a human shape, but he was a Hound.
Peter gasped. The Hound glanced up, froze, and opened his mouth to speak. At the same moment, Stefan gave a loud cry, turned, and dived into the river. The rest of the Hounds gathered on the bank, staring after him.
Silence descended, broken only by the roar of the waterfall. The spear of pain in Peter's stomach prevented him from fleeing when Gabriel loomed over him. He braced himself for death.
"My lord, I--" the Hound spoke, his voice quick and fearful.
"Silence." Gabriel's voice snapped at his Hounds more effectively than any whip. He stared down at Peter. "You saw."
Peter licked his lips. He could not deny it. "Yes. I did." The Council had not known the Hunt could shift shape. That explained quite a bit, in hindsight. How Gabriel had managed to evade them for so long. How the Hunt had seemed to understand human speech. "Nathan will want to know." Peter did not realize he had spoken aloud until Gabriel's hand closed over his shirt and bore him up.
For a heart-stopping moment, Peter stared death in the eye. And then Gabriel released him to fall back on the ground, and the Master of the Hunt stepped away.
"I cannot kill you." He sounded genuinely regretful.
"I--I rather wish you wouldn't," Peter whispered. "But I--I doubt I will reach the Council house before I die." Speaking of his impending mortality helped ease his fear a bit, strangely enough. Peter pressed his arm against the wound and tried to push past the pain.
"You will tell your Council what you saw, won't you?" Gabriel asked.
"I have to," Peter whispered, half-wondering why he hadn't told them already. The link of shared power could be used for communication, after all, but he was so weak--and scared--
"I could leave you here to die."
"I could order you to save me." Blackness rimmed Peter's vision. He doubted he had much time left for consciousness. Would the wolves in the forest pick his bones clean before Nathan and the others could reach him? Would the Hounds feast on his flesh?
Gabriel hesitated. "We could--We could make a bargain."
"What kind of a bargain?" Peter asked.
"If you give me your word you will not tell your Council what you saw, I will give you my word to deliver you safely home. Alive."
To keep a secret of this magnitude from the Council crept close to the edge of betrayal. He could use the binding to force Gabriel to save him, but--but the Master of the Hunt had saved his life when Stefan would have ended it. And that had to count for something.
Peter licked his lips again. "Agreed."
Gabriel hesitated. "If you break your word--"
"I will not break my word." He put as much force as he could in that assurance.
The Hounds ranged around their Master, wary and unhappy. Peter watched them for a moment, trying to pick out the one who had shifted shape. Could they all do that? Would his bargain with the Hunt rise up to haunt him one day? Would he regret giving his word that the Council not ever know of this?
A small whine broke his chain of thought and set the Hounds on alert again. Gabriel spared a glance at Peter, then approached Brenna, who still crouched near the edge of the river. He stretched out his hand. "Child, come with me."
She growled at him and bared her teeth.
"I can help you." Gabriel's voice was swallowed by advancing pain. Peter dully wondered how much blood he had lost.
Brenna growled at him again. When he drew too close, she snapped at his fingers with shining white teeth, turned tail, and followed Stefan into the river.
Gabriel stood for a moment, staring at the rushing water. Then, after an age had passed, he roused himself and turned to where Peter lay.
"You should not have followed him."
Peter could not help the laugh that bubbled from his throat. It tasted like blood. "I had to." How to make him understand? "I had to try."
Gabriel picked up Stefan's sword and stared at it. For a moment, Peter thought he would test the binding again and try to drive the sword into his heart, but he sighed instead and threw it to follow Stefan and Brenna into the river.
"That wasn't very intelligent; throwing away your only weapon."
It was a woman's voice, as cold as ice. Peter gasped at the sound, and Gabriel's Hounds were on guard in an instant, even before she appeared among them.
"Magdalen." Gabriel almost sounded--weary.
"It's been twenty years," the woman said, her red gown black in the moonlight. "You've been busy."
"I go where I am summoned," Gabriel said mildly. "You know that."
He stood in front of Peter now, with two Hounds on either side. Protecting him, Peter realized. The Hunt was protecting him. But why?
"Who is it that you're hiding?" the woman asked. She took a step forward, but a snarling Hound blocked her way.
"No one of importance," Gabriel said.
"And the one who ran away?" With one pale hand, Magdalen motioned towards the river.
"You're too late," Gabriel said, his voice still mild. "Two weeks too late, in fact."
Now he sounded as if he were smiling, but when Peter glanced up at his face, he found that it was just as remote as before.
Who was this woman? And what did she want with Gabriel?
The smile fell from her face. "What do you mean? The man who summoned you here is dead--I saw his body myself!"
The Council hadn't been able to find Jacob Daulton's body. But every indicator cried that he was dead. Peter tried to store this information away for Nathan and the rest of the Council, but he couldn't concentrate hard enough to remember it. He closed his eyes, then forced them open.
"You are too late," Gabriel said again. "Two weeks ago, the Council that rules this place bound me." This time, Peter saw a fierce smile flit across his face. "For a century, even. You'll just have to wait."
Magdalen did something--a spell of some sort, Peter thought. When nothing happened, she tried something else, and then something else, each one more desperate.
Nothing happened.
Gabriel let out a breath, as if he had not quite believed that the Council's binding would hold. "I spoke the truth."
Magdalen snarled at him, furious in an instant. "You dare mock me! I could destroy you!"
"You could try," Gabriel said. "But I would not wish to be around you if you failed."
There was a warning in his voice now, almost daring her to make the attempt. Peter tried to think past the pain--if someone tried to kill Gabriel, what would happen to the Council's binding? Did the binding place the Wild Hunt under the Council's protection?
He thought, perhaps, that it did.
One of the Hounds growled again, and moved to stand in front of its Master. Another one soon joined it, and then another. The rest circled around the woman's back, white smudges in the darkness.
"I will not leave you in peace," she said, as if just now realizing she was, in fact, outnumbered. "I will have you. If I have to wait a hundred years, then I will wait. But you will not escape me again."
Before Gabriel could reply to that, she vanished as quickly as she had come, leaving the Hounds growling at nothing.
Peter closed his eyes.
A moment later, Gabriel lifted him up.
Peter's heartbeat thundered in his ears. For a moment, the pain robbed him of his voice, but then he gasped, "What--what are you doing?"
"Fulfilling my end of our bargain," Gabriel said mildly, his face both remote and sad. "I do not give my word lightly." His Hounds ranged around his ankles as he carried Peter into the forest.
Peter stared at the Master of the Hunt, certain he would see a hint of humor in those silver eyes, but they were blank and cold. "I don't either."
But he could, very easily, break his word, and Gabriel had to realize that. Did he expect betrayal?
"I will keep my end of our bargain," he whispered, and let his eyes slide shut again.
Gabriel hesitated. "Thank you."
Either loss of blood and the pain from his wound tweaked with the passage of time or Peter had tracked Stefan with the speed of a snail, for a scant hour later they emerged from the forest once more. Torchlight blazed from the Council house's windows. Nathan himself stood in the doorway, his arms folded, but his aura worried.
"I believe--I believe the Council owes you a debt of thanks for returning Peter to us," Nathan said as they approached.
"I know," Gabriel said. "I could have very well left him to die."
"I will remember this," Nathan said, a thread of what sounded like--respect?--running through his voice.
Peter felt hands pulling him from Gabriel's grasp. He did not fight the release of the Master of the Hunt's cold grip, but he did force his eyes to open one last time before blackness swept him away.
"Thank you." He said those two words from the very bottom of his heart.
Gabriel nodded, then turned to vanish back into the forest. His Hounds followed, ghostly shapes among the trees.
"You should not have followed him," Nathan said, both his words and tone of voice mirroring Gabriel's earlier admonishment.
"I had to try," Peter whispered. He could barely force his eyes to stay open.
Nathan ruffled Peter's hair. "I know."
And then, with healing magic stealing through his veins to heal the damage Stefan had wrought, Peter closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to bear him away.
2.
"Show yourself, witch. I know you're there." Stefan didn't bother to raise his head--if she had wanted to kill him, she would have already made the attempt.
"I do not like your tone," the woman in red said, and appeared on an outcropping of rock not far away from where Stefan lay. He had seen--and heard--most of the exchange from the other side of the river. "Especially since I intend to lend you my aid."
"I don't need your help," Stefan snapped. "And do not assume I'm stupid enough to fall for your tricks." He licked his lips, and remembered the taste of the Hounds' blood.
Brenna whined from the shelter of a scrubby pine tree, and shivered at the woman's regard.
"I find it quite endearing that you're going to all of this trouble just to save your illegitimate daughter," she said, rising from her perch to approach him. "But surely one child is not worth all the effort?"
"I love my daughter!" Stefan rose to his feet and shook off the remnants of the lake water--like a dog. "Unless I'm mistaken, you are the trespasser here. Begone!"
The woman pursed her lips. "Very well. If you refuse my offer to help, then I cannot aid your daughter." She turned, as if to go, but hesitated, waiting for his word to stop.
Reluctantly, Stefan growled the words she wanted to hear. "How can you help her? She is lost to me unless Gabriel changes her back. And I do not think I can persuade the Council to order him to do that, despite what they claimed they could do before the Hunt was bound."
He had no true idea how many members of the Council had died during the binding, but he had felt their deaths along with the deaths of the Hounds.
Not that they had helped him.
When the woman did not reply, he sneered. "I didn't think so." He turned away from her and summoned Brenna to his side.
"You control her already," the woman said. "Impressive! With a bit of knowledge, you could very easily become the Master of your own Hunt, Stefan."
That comment alone gave him pause. He had envied Gabriel's control of his Hounds. Even after the Council's binding had freed him from Gabriel's influence, he had used what he had learned on his daughter.
The very life he had set out to save.
"The Council is lost to you now," the woman said. "They will not welcome you back."
"I know." He had not thought past surviving the binding of the Hunt. "The only thing I do not know is how to make more Hounds."
Brenna whined. Stefan could sense her confusion. And part of his mind wanted nothing to do with the woman's proposal. But the larger part--
"I know how," she said. "I know more about the Wild Hunt than you think. If the Council had consulted me before they attempted their binding--"
"The Council didn't know that you existed," Stefan said. "You know my name; may I have yours?"
"Gabriel is safe from me for a hundred years," the woman said. "A century of servitude to your precious Council."
"I cannot break the binding," Stefan said. "And I cannot attack the Hunt if the Council will retaliate." All at once, he realized how effortlessly Gabriel had managed to work this around to his advantage. What had he lost, other than his freedom and a few Hounds? A century was nothing to the Master of the Wild Hunt.
"I won't be alive in a century," he said, frustrated and weary. "If I cannot circumvent the Council, then Gabriel will go free and Brenna--"
"Surely Brenna is much better off as a Hound," the woman said. "You already control her. If you order her to attack, she will attack."
"But she is just a child!" Stefan protested. "An innocent in this--she wasn't supposed to become a Hound!"
"You never cared for her before," the woman said. "She is lost to you now, except as a Hound."
Her words were true. He had not married Brenna's mother, but he had sent her money for the child's upbringing. The Hunt's appearance in the forest had consumed the Council, especially after Jacob Daulton's death had set the Hunt free to terrorize the forest and the tiny villages that broke through the thick stands of trees.
Now--Now, she was lost to him. But as a Hound-- "You--You say you know how to create other Hounds?"
"I can teach you," the woman said, smiling now, as if she sensed victory.
"And how do I know that you're telling the truth?" Stefan asked, his eyes narrowing as he strove to ignore Brenna's soft whines. If she was well and truly lost to him, then he would have to think of her as a dog, nothing more. Not as his daughter. "And what is your name?"
"Do you know how the Wild Hunt came into being?" Again, she ignored his request for her name. "A long, long time ago, Gabriel was a servant in my mother's castle. When he displeased her, she created the Hunt and placed him at its head." She laughed. "You have an advantage over Gabriel already. He does not have the form of a Hound."
That was a nugget of information Stefan had not known before, but it still rang untrue. "I find it doubtful that Gabriel was a servant," he said. "Servants don't--Servants don't have the presence to command."
"He has always been a servant to me," the woman said with a shrug. "Prince or servant; what does it matter now? He was created by my mother, and for many years he served her by destroying her enemies with his Hounds."
"And then?" Stefan asked when she did not continue.
"And then he broke free from her spells and murdered her." The smile dropped from her lips. "With her dying breath, she cursed him to wander and to obey any summons from any Master that wanted him." She scowled. "If she had left well enough alone, Gabriel would have died a long time ago and none of this would have happened."
"You've been--following him for all this time?" Stefan had to grudgingly admire such a single-minded pursuit.
"Yes and no," the woman said. "I've been following him, but I haven't caught up with him in many years. Until now."
Stefan glanced down at Brenna. For a moment, he thought about asking the Council to save her--he would have to throw himself on their mercy and hope that nosy little Peter Lane did not die from his wound. But then, he remembered the Hound that had shifted shape. Their human blood tasted much different from their Hound blood--if that made any sense at all.
As a Hound, Brenna at least had teeth and claws to fight with. As a human, she would be a child still, helpless and weak.
"And now, I know exactly where he will be for the next hundred years." The woman's smile held no warmth at all, only a coldness that made the hair on the back of Stefan's neck rise.
"You say you know these things. Do you know how the Hunt shifts shape? I couldn't shift before, but I can now. How is that possible?" And then, just because she had yet to tell him, "May I have your name?"
"Magdalen," the woman said shortly, as if she loathed to give him that piece of information. "And the Hunt has no human form. That is why I approached you instead of one of the others."
Stefan almost told her what he had seen. But in the very last instant, he decided to keep that scrap of information to himself, just in case he could use it, later. "There are others? Survivors?" Surely she could not mean the Hounds still under Gabriel's control.
"There are two," Magdalen said. "And I have them, if you're wondering. The Council's spell to protect you also protected them, but I fear they are little more than Hounds now without a Master."
"And what do you want from me in exchange for this information?" Stefan asked. "And don't assume I will fight the Hunt in a hundred years. Despite the fact that I was one of Gabriel's Hounds, I am still human." Or close enough, at least.
"I am new in this place," Magdalen said, and smiled at him. "I need your strength and your knowledge. I need you to be my champion."
Stefan did not see her move, but she was suddenly beside him, her hand on his arm, stroking his muscles. He had to steel himself not to step away.
"And what strength you have!" Her smile widened. "I would ask that you challenge Gabriel once the Hunt is freed from the Council's binding. But you need not worry about mortality, Stefan." She ran one fingernail down the side of his face. "You will not die in Faerie."
Stefan stared at her. "If you are new here, then how do you know you'll be welcome in Faerie?" he asked. There was something in her voice--some spell, perhaps--that threatened to overcome any sense he had left. And he had to keep his wits intact.
"I don't," Magdalen said. "But I have not been unwelcome before."
"And you would teach me how to create Hounds?" Perhaps he could figure out how to give Brenna back her human form later. Or not, in truth. She did not need to fear anything as a Hound.
"That is only one of the things I will teach you," Magdalen promised.
Immortality--or, at least this version of it--meant that he would outlive both Peter and Nathan Lane and every other member of the Council who had survived the binding of the Wild Hunt. A century from now, the world would be much different--in ways he could not yet imagine.
But he had just won free of Gabriel. Did he truly want to bind himself to someone else so soon?
Could he not find Gabriel's secret on his own? How difficult could it be to learn how to make his own Hounds?
He had hesitated too long. Magdalen's face darkened. "Well?"
But then again, Stefan didn't wish to anger her either. Three enemies would spell his doom. He had already burned too many bridges.
"Your offer is--tempting," he said. "But I find myself loathe to swear myself a new Master so soon." When she did not react with fury, he continued, striving to keep his voice soft. "As you said, Gabriel has a century bound to the Hunt. If I cannot discover his secrets, then I will bind myself to you."
For a long moment, Magdalen did not speak. But then she nodded. "As you say, a century. I will be watching you."
And as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone, leaving Stefan both bereft and glad of her absence.
He would have to watch for her presence now, but he thought she would keep her word.
With a thought, he called Brenna to his side. "We'll need a place to stay."
She wouldn't look at him; this hound-daughter, as if she realized he had shifted his priorities from finding a way to change her back to something a bit more selfish. And for a moment, he felt a pang of shame for what he had sentenced her to.
"Would you rather have me as a Master or Gabriel?" he growled, pushing away both shame and regret. "We'll need a place to stay."
Brenna whined, but obeyed his order, as he knew she must. And with his Hound at his side, Stefan vanished into Faerie, leaving all regret behind.
Next Update: March 9th
Read more!
