“You mean the other part?”
“Yeah. That one.”
And, with the Nightkeepers and their consorts, and the winikin and their shadow-creatures looking on, Cara smiled up into Sven’s eyes and said, “I love you. I may have crushed on the boy you were and resented the adventurer you became, but I’ve fallen in love with the man you are today.”
He exhaled a long, relieved breath. “So you’ll give me one last chance to get it right?”
“You already did.” She tapped his arm. “This is more of a sacrifice than I ever would have asked for.”
“It’s not even a fraction of what you deserve.” He hooked an arm around her waist and lifted her to her toes to plant a real kiss on her, one that involved bending her back over his arm, elicited a few good-natured whistles, and lasted until Dez cleared his throat.
“If you two are finished…”
Sven let her go, grinning broadly. “I’d say we’re just getting started.”
“Then put it on hold for now. We’ve still got work to do.” The king hefted the screaming skull in one hand and gestured toward the center of the cave. “If we could try this again… all of us this time?”
A few minutes later, distinctions forgotten, the end-time warriors—Mac and the nearly recovered sable coyote included—all linked together to form a double circle around the king, with the shadow-animals ringing the outer edge. And they set out to call the First Father back to earth.
This time the resurrection spell worked flawlessly. And Sven, with Cara—his mate, his love—at his side and their familiars at their heels, was in a perfect place to add his power to the whole and watch the magic unfold.
The winikin were the key, as Cara had predicted, along with their shadow totems. Dez had barely gotten past the second line of the spell when the animals began to move. They filtered through the double line of the blood-link and into the center of the space, where they started circling, moving ever inward and kicking up the sand, until there was a whirl of dust, shadow and light in the center of the circle. And all the while, Dez recited the resurrection spell and the magic amped from mage to winikin and back again, growing ever hotter, ever stronger.
The shadow-animals spun faster and faster; the power ratcheted up to a buzz and then a high-pitched whine that itched along Sven’s jawbone, and then boom! There was a thunderclap and the shadows fled back to their winikin, went insubstantial, and disappeared into their holders. At each entry, the winikin’s eyes glowed briefly gold and then went normal again.
Cara smiled and said softly, “They’ll be with us when we need them.”
Sven nudged Mac with his toe. “Some more obviously than others.”
Her smile went bright and brilliant, and made his heart turn over in his chest. He was so damn proud of her, proud to be with her, and proud to wear her mark, that he thought he might explode like the tunnel had. And he was psyched for her to have a familiar of her own, a thought-link of her own… and for neither him nor Mac to spend their nights alone anymore.
When the last of the shadow-animals disappeared, leaving only the coyotes behind, the storm clouds eased away and the sun finally shone through the overhead gap, chasing away the last of the mist… to reveal a brown- robed, hooded man kneeling in the center of the circle.
The resurrection was complete.
Despite not being much for religion, Sven got a shiver as the figure straightened.
Hands shot from the long sleeves of the brown robe, and marks flashed—too quick to be identified—as the man reached for his hood, pushed it back… and glared at the double circle with hard eyes.
Shock rattled through Sven. “What the fuck?” He was pretty sure everyone else was thinking it. He was just the first to say it. Because the sharp-featured man with the big hooked nose, heavy brow, and buzz-trimmed skull was no stranger. “Red-Boar?”
Because that was who it was. Rabbit’s father, who had died in one of their earliest skirmishes, was back.
Gods help them all.
Cara’s hand squeezed his and she pantomimed a holy crap! face that Sven returned.
Red-Boar scowled. “Who the hell else did you expect?” His eyes went to Mac and the new coyote, and his eyebrows drew together. They nearly touched as he looked around, seeming to be counting up the new faces, only two of whom were full magi.
A low-level hum of whispers caught fire and spread, and headed quickly for hubbub territory.
“What are you doing here?” Strike asked, voice a little shaky, though Sven wasn’t sure whether that was from shock or trying to suppress hysteria-tinged laughter.
The grizzled mage’s scowl deepened. “Don’t ask me. I wanted to stay dead. But the boar nahwal said my idiot kid got his ass in trouble again and I’ve got to bail him out if I want to get to the real afterlife rather than just the fucking in-between. So what’s the deal?”
The air went tight as hell and everybody clammed up.
Silence.
More silence.
Red-Boar zeroed in on Anna and stabbed a finger at her. “You. Start talking. Where is he?”
Something flashed in her eyes, but she said simply, “We don’t know.”
“Then why the hell did you summon me?”
“We didn’t. We were trying to get…” She trailed off. “The Father. Oh.”
More like, Oh, shit, Sven thought. But if Red-Boar had come back with a message about finding Rabbit, they must have summoned the right Father.
He hoped. Because if not, this was a serious fucking train wreck.
A little while later, once the sheer what-the-fuckery of Red-Boar’s return had died down and Dez declared it time to head for home, Sven caught Cara’s hand and tugged her to the sandy spit to steal another kiss.
She was smiling when they parted, but her eyes held worry. “I wonder if the gods knew what they were letting us in for, bringing Red-Boar back.” She glanced to where groups started forming, mixing winikin with Nightkeepers to make sure the teleporters would have enough magic to get them home. “And how he’s going to deal with everything that’s changed since his time.”
“He’ll adjust,” Sven predicted—though, remembering the irascible old mage, he wasn’t so sure about that. He covered it, though, with another kiss. “All the changes have been good ones… especially this one.” Another, deeper kiss.
“And this one.” She dropped a hand to the top of the sable coyote’s head in a gesture that was both proprietary and loving, and somehow sexy as well. All three tugged at his heart. He loved that she had a familiar, that she had magic of her own. And that she loved him back.
“What are you going to call her?” he asked with a nod to the sable female.
“Pearl.” The answer was immediate and final. “I’m going to call her Pearl.”
It took him a second before he got it. “As in ‘Black Pearl’?” When she nodded, he made a face. “You’re going with Pirates of the Caribbean? Really?”
“Says the guy who named his coyote after a character on CSI: New York.”
He shrugged. “It’s the eyes.” When she rolled hers, the laugh that bubbled up out of him felt free and easy for the first time since… gods, since he didn’t know when.
And, for the first time in just as long, he wasn’t looking forward to the next adventure, the next destination. He was content right now, in this place and time, with the woman he loved. They would deal with whatever came next, and they would do it together.
That was a promise he would keep… or die trying.
EPILOGUE
September 24
