* * *
Fallon waited until full dark before she walked away from the house with Tonia and Flynn. Lupa walked by Flynn’s side.
“I wanted to leave him with Joe and Eddie, but…” He laid a hand on Lupa’s head. “He wouldn’t have it.”
“He’s welcome.”
Flynn had a rifle strapped over his shoulder, a knife on his belt. Tonia had her bow and quiver, her knife, and Fallon her sword and shield.
When she lifted her arm, the white owl glided out of the dark to land on it.
“Okay. Who’s better at scouting than an owl?” Tonia decided. “You know, we shook them pretty good tonight.”
“I wish we had more time, but we don’t. Flynn, you’ve been with them from the beginning.”
“And younger than either of you when we started. They’ll handle it. It’s hard, you’re their children, but they’ll handle it.”
He’d never taken a mate, Fallon thought, though she knew he’d taken lovers here and there. She wondered why.
Nobody’s rung the bell, he said in her mind, and added a half smile when she winced.
Sorry. “Then let’s get started,” she said out loud. “Before we do, I’m aiming for a spot about a half mile from the base. I’m estimating, as I couldn’t risk going into the crystal, leaving a trace to pinpoint it more exactly.”
“Won’t we leave that trace tonight?” Tonia asked.
“I’m going to use a cloaking spell.” She took charm pouches out of her pocket. “Keep them on you,” she said, then laid her hands on their arms.
“From friend and foe alike, we are hidden from their sight. Though within us burns the light, it leaves no trace upon the night. They may look but will not see. As I will, so mote it be.”
“We’re going to be invisible?” Tonia slipped the pouch into her pocket, patted it. “So, so cool.”
“Not invisible—though very cool. More like shadows, shapes. Magickal searching spells should pass right over us.”
“Should?”
“There are spells to counteract cloaking spells. We have to risk it. Any trouble, we flash out. We can’t risk the whole mission. Ready?”
They flashed onto a deserted road that cut through a stretch of empty houses. Some had been burned to the ground—a waste of resources and shelter. Someone more enterprising and practical had dismantled others to the foundation, and a handful more still stood, window glass smashed, doors removed or hanging open.
As she scanned what had been a neighborhood before her birth, she felt it.
“They left the dead,” Fallon stated.
“Where?” Hand on her knife hilt, Tonia scanned the area.
“In the houses. There are still remains from the Doom in some of the houses. Children would have played here once. Friends would have gathered on patios, like we did tonight. Now there are rats.”
She watched one tunnel through the high weedy lawn as they walked.
“A half mile,” Flynn said. “And still some housing, easily repaired. When we take the base, we could use this as an outpost, a checkpoint.”
They followed the road, then into what had been a small park. Now the trees had thickened and wild things grew in a kind of mad splendor.
“Probably snakes,” Tonia said.
“Probably.”
They saw deer, a red fox, a lumbering possum, crossed a thin stream clogged with debris.
Both Fallon and Flynn stopped, heads cocked.
“Elf ears,” Tonia muttered. “Both of you. What do you hear?”
“An engine.” Flynn glanced at Fallon, nodded. Lupa stayed by her side as Flynn blurred away in the dark.
“He’s going to look. The base should be just a couple hundred yards to the east, and the engine’s coming from the road that leads to it.”
They moved ahead, keeping to shadows as security lights from the compound glowed through the dark.
Flynn slipped back to them. “Single cargo truck, cleared through the main gates. Guard posts coordinate with your map. The walls are a good fifteen feet high. We’re not going to be able to see over them from this vantage point, and we’ll be in the open if we go another twenty feet. I can scout the perimeter, see if there’s a better angle, higher ground.”
“We need to go higher, but not on the ground. We separate. Flynn scouts the east side, Tonia the west. You’ll meet up on the north side. We need to know the terrain, any additional sentry positions or security measures, potential weak spots. You know the drill. Tonia will flash you both back here.”
“And you?” Tonia asked.
“I’ll go up.”
“You can fly now?”
“Taibhse can, and I’ll see through his eyes.”
“You mean to merge with him,” Flynn began as Tonia shook her head.
“Then Flynn and I should stay with you. You’d be vulnerable—body here, spirit there. And you told me you were still working on a true merge.”
“The owl god’s mine for a reason. And Faol Ban will guard me.”
“Lupa stays, too,” Flynn insisted.
“All right.” She held up her arm so Taibhse glided down from the tree branch where he’d perched, landed softly. “Move out. We’ll rendezvous back here. What we take back with us tonight is going to be the difference between success and failure.”
“You can mind-speak to both of us,” Tonia said. “Any trouble, you signal.”
“And the same goes.”
Fallon waited, and when she stood alone with the owl, looked into his eyes. “I’m yours; you’re mine. You are wisdom and patience. You are the hunter. My heart beats with yours; my blood flows with yours. Be my eyes.”
As she looked into his, she saw herself, a shadow in shadows.
“Be my ears.”
She heard all the whispers of the night. A mouse breathing, the crawl of a spider over a leaf, a fox slinking through the grass.
“Taibhse the wise, my spirit joins with yours. Now be my wings.”
She rose up in him, through him, and with the great spread of his wings glided up, up, above the trees. She felt the air swim by her, scented the mouse, the spider, the fox below.
For a moment, the thrill took her, the freedom of flight, the power of sight that picked out a squirrel nesting in a tree, and the union that allowed her to soar.
The sting of fuel, the stench of dark magicks, the smell of man.
She saw the elf to the east, the witch to the west, moving shadows in shadows.
She circled above the houses, the streets connecting them. A garden surrounded by fencing, penned livestock. She noted the guards posted outside of buildings, drew the map in her head.
Four men unloaded the truck Flynn had seen—of prisoners. She caught the smell of fresh blood, watched as they were dragged to a guarded building. Someone drove the truck across the compound. Another guarded area, another gate.
She counted the vehicles inside the fence, and the fuel tanks.
A group of Raiders—four, five, six, seven—sat outside, in the rear of a big house with a peaked roof. Two of them smoked something that clogged the air. The others drank … whiskey?
With Taibhse’s ears she heard their voices, rough and drunk. Celebrating a successful raid that day, she realized. Two dead, three slaves to trade to the PWs.