Returning to the human plane, relieved to purge my nostrils with the sweet scent of recently mown grass, I got ready to do the job I’d come here for.
Dad flapped over and landed on a tree branch. He seemed in a good mood. “I can’t believe I didn’t explain things to Anne sooner. We’ve missed a couple of good weeks because I was such a chicken.”
His feathers puffed out, as though the body he inhabited took offense at his choice of word.
“I’m delighted you’re both happy, Evan,” Mab said. “Are you ready to get to work?”
“I know there’ll be some adjustments,” he went on, ignoring Mab’s question. “But that’s to be expected. I mean, we had our problems before. We didn’t always see eye to eye, what with me being from the north of Wales and her from the south. Our current incompatibilities are a bit more dramatic, I’ll grant that. Still, I’m optimistic we’ll overcome them. It turns out absence really does make the heart grow fonder, at least in our case.”
He was gushing like a teenager who’d just gotten a date for the prom, and we let him gush. It made me smile. Mab was smiling a little, too.
Dad saw our expressions and said, “Look at the pair of you, standing there grinning like fools. Did we or didn’t we come here to work?”
“Ah, yes,” Mab said drily. “Thank you for reminding me.”
“Well, then.” Dad puffed out his feathers again.
“Here’s how we’ll proceed,” said Mab. “It’s quite simple. I will release some Morfran from a stone. A small amount, to start.”
“A test batch,” I said.
“Precisely. The emerging Morfran will be materialized in its crow form. Victory, you’ll wield Hellforged. Use large, slow circles to keep the crows in its orbit, but don’t pull them in too close. Keep the Morfran in a holding pattern so that Evan may attack. I shall watch to ensure none escapes.” She gestured southward. “Any Morfran that manages to break away will obviously travel toward Deadtown, seeking food. If I see any, Evan, I’ll send you after it.”
The gleam in Dad’s eye showed how much he’d enjoy chasing down every last bit of Morfran.
“Is everyone clear?” Mab asked. Dad and I nodded.
Mab crossed her arms and nodded in return. “Victory, I don’t imagine you’ll need to return any Morfran to the slate—not unless we release too large an amount at one time. If all goes well, Evan will destroy whatever Morfran we release.”
If all goes well. That’s got to be how things happen sometimes, right? Maybe tonight would be our night for that.
“Let’s go,” Dad said. “I can hear the damn Morfran cawing. It’s making the falcon hungry.”
We got into position. Dad launched into the night sky and circled overhead. I held Hellforged in my left hand. When I was learning to use this dagger, the thing bucked like a bronco, getting away from me more often than I managed to hold onto it. But we’d learned to work together. Now, Hellforged felt warm in my hand, vibrating slightly as if anticipating tonight’s job. I curled my fingers comfortably around the grip. I began tracing slow, wide, clockwise circles over my head. The motion always made me feel like I was twirling an invisible lasso. Cowgirl Vicky. Right.
Mab put her hand on a stone and tilted her head, as though listening. She straightened and went quickly to the next stone. Again, she laid her hand on it and listened. Satisfied, she traced a circle on the stone’s surface, chanting an incantation. Then she produced a wooden stick and hit the stone.
A gong rang out. Mab touched the stone to muffle the sound. Not a good idea to attract attention. She held her hand in place as she struck the stone again.
One more hit, and the Morfran would emerge.
I tensed, preparing for the onslaught.
Gong.
A screeching mass of feathers, claws, and beaks exploded from the stone—and straight into Hellforged’s orbit. I thought my arm would snap from the sudden, strong drag. I staggered but kept my arm moving. Big, slow circles. No need to rush. I wasn’t pulling the Morfran in, merely holding it in place. The drag remained strong; it felt like I was stirring a huge vat of nearly hardened concrete. I quit straining so much, holding Hellforged lightly and concentrating on the motion.
When I felt sure I could handle this amount of Morfran, I looked up. More than a dozen crows with burning eyes circled overhead, moving with Hellforged. They flew silently, as though hypnotized. A couple of them jerked, like they were trying to break out of the enforced flight pattern, but Hellforged held them.
Far above the crows, another bird circled. At first, the falcon was barely a speck in the sky. Then, he dived. The speck hurtled earthward, growing bigger and bigger. His outstretched talons reached. He grasped a crow and tore it in two. Immediately the falcon ascended, gaining the height to dive again.
The drag on Hellforged lessened. Within minutes, all of the crows were dead. Heaps of bloody feathers littered the ground, steaming as the bodies dissolved. In moments, there was no trace left.
The falcon soared upward, screaming its triumph.
“Excellent,” Mab said. She watched me rub my upper arm, which quivered from the exertion. “How do you feel, child?”
“Okay. But tomorrow I’m going to feel like I was in a one-handed weight lifting competition.”
“We can trade tasks if you like.”
“Maybe later. Let’s keep going.” The falcon alighted on a nearby headstone. “Dad, how about you? You okay?”
“Fine. I sort of move aside and let this body take over. The falcon feels great. He’s doing what he was meant to do. I think we can handle a bigger batch, if you want to try that.”
“Not too much bigger, I think,” said Mab. “It requires effort to hold them in orbit. Pacing ourselves will allow us to accomplish more over the course of the night.”
“You’re the boss,” Dad said. “Ready when you are.” With a jump, he flapped his wings and took off into the sky.
I did another scan of the cemetery, paying attention to my demon mark as I looked around. If Pryce and Difethwr were nearby, I’d feel it. The mark remained quiet—or what passed for quiet these days. I nodded to Mab that I was ready for another round and began moving Hellforged in big circles over my head. She went to the next headstone.
We worked for hours, stepping it up to larger batches of twenty-five or thirty materialized crows. When my aching arm shook too much to raise over my head, Mab took Hellforged and taught me the releasing incantation. My first attempt freed too much Morfran, and the falcon took off after three crows that escaped and shot like arrows toward Deadtown. But Dad was faster. He got all three before they’d made it past the old Suffolk University campus.
Sometime around three in the morning, we took a break. Mab and I flopped down on the grass, and Dad perched on a headstone, preening his feathers. No one said much; we were all spent. I opened my senses to the demon plane, listening. Hard to tell, but by the reduced cawing I estimated that we’d gotten rid of a quarter of the Morfran trapped here.
Nice going.
“A few more nights of this, and it’ll be gone,” I said to Mab.
“Yes, child, but I doubt we’ll have the luxury. Whatever is keeping Pryce occupied tonight, he will discover what we’ve done. We must destroy as much of the Morfran as we can before he tries to stop us.”
“How do you think—”
To our left, the falcon’s scream cut off my question. I leapt up, holding Hellforged in a fighting stance. A harsh cackle cut through the falcon’s cries.
A skeleton with glowing eyes stood between two headstones, holding up a net in one bony hand. Inside the net, the white falcon struggled and shrieked.
28
“MINE!” THE NIGHT HAG SCREECHED. “AT LAST THE WHITE falcon of Hellsmoor is mine!”
“No!” I ran at her, Hellforged raised, forgetting its blunted blade. I’d lop off her damn hand to make her let go.
The hag whistled, and I nearly ran straight into the snapping jaws of the hellhound that jumped into my path. I stopped, spun. The hounds surrounded me.
When I looked at the hag again, she was a young woman with long, silky hair. Her eyes sparkled with laughter, but her lips twisted in a grimace.
“Mine.” She gloated. “And your lover remains bound by his promise to me. All in all, I’d call this a good night’s hunt.”
She snapped her fingers, and the galloping of iron hooves sounded. Her fire-breathing steed appeared at her side. She grasped the saddle to swing herself up. Her hounds growled and snapped at me, keeping me back.
“Wait,” said Mab.
The hag’s head snapped toward Mab. Her face, now middle-aged and plump, frowned. She made a complicated whistle and pointed. Half her pack broke away to crouch in front of Mab, growling. Acid drool dripped from their huge fangs, sizzling as it hit the ground.
Mab lifted her hands to show she wasn’t armed. “Mallt-
y-Nos, you do not know what you’re doing.”
The Night Hag swung into her saddle. She looped the net around the pommel to make a bag. The falcon tore at the net with his beak and talons, but the fibers stayed intact. “Be still!” she commanded. A blue spark leapt from her finger and jolted the bird. He squawked and stopped moving.
“Stop!” I yelled. “You’re hurting him!”
“Merely a little training. This bird will learn to do my bidding. A month or so tied to its perch and hooded, with barely enough food to keep it alive, should break its will. It’ll be pleased enough to hunt for me then. If not, there’s always this.” She zapped another spark into the bird.
Dad.
“Mallt-y-Nos,” Mab repeated. A hound lunged at her, but she ignored it, standing straight and staring fearlessly at the hag’s crone face. “This is the white falcon of the prophecies. He can kill the Morfran. You have no right to take him.”
“Haven’t I?” The crone cackled like an evil witch escaped from a fairy tale. “I have possession. That’s all the right I need. I’ve no interest in hunting Morfran. This falcon will chase whatever game I wish.” Her lined, pallid face turned to me with an expression more snarl than laugh. “Perhaps I’ll grant you a reprieve, until I’ve got this bird properly trained. Then I’ll set both him and my hounds upon you, a full moon or two from now.” Her skin turned greenish and shrank on her skull. “What a pleasure it will be to see his talons shred those smooth, pretty cheeks.”