They emerged from the tunnel into the chamber. We stared at each other. It was like none of us knew what to say.
“I don’t suppose if I asked nicely you would let me go,” I said finally. My voice scratched, my throat aching from all the shouting and I was pretty sure I wouldnd from dehydration. So much for sounding tough. At least with my clothes on I had an easier time standing tall and showing my dominance. Perceived dominance.
“It’s daylight,” the werewolf said, gesturing backward to some theoretical exit. “Kumarbis is asleep.”
I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. Did that mean I could go? Would they really let me go? “Kumarbis—the vampire?” I asked.
The woman, the were-lion, nodded. “This is our chance to explain this to you—”
“About time,” I muttered.
They moved forward, reaching to me—and I took a step back. They looked like attackers, coming to finish me off at last.
“Please, don’t be frightened,” the were-lion said. Her voice was light, beautiful. If we were having coffee in a hip bistro I could have listened to her all day long. But we weren’t. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said. I itched, I had to move, so I started pacing back and forth along the back wall of the chamber, my bare feet scraping on cool stone. Rapid steps, my hands opening and closing into fists.
The two of them moved closer together, flinching back from me. I must have looked pretty crazy. But I had to let Wolf bleed out a little, or I’d scream. So I paced.
“I’m sorry about this. We’re both sorry,” the man said. He had a crisp accent that I couldn’t place. “Does that help?”
“Only if you let me go now.”
“We can’t do that.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“If you’ll stop, sit and be calm, I’ll explain,” he said. He sounded oh so rational. I didn’t trust him, how could I? March six steps, turn, march six steps, glaring at them the whole time.
“Please,” she said in that melodic voice.
Their body language shifted; they turned away from me, lowered their gazes—not showing submission, but not offering a challenge. Giving me room.
I slowed. We have to run …
Not yet, not when they were between us and the door. Finally, I stopped. “How the hell do you deal with all the silver?”
It had started to feel like bugs crawling on my skin. I kept looking over my shoulder and checking myself for open wounds. I couldn’t tell what was paranoia and what I ought to be truly worried about.
The man said, “Most of the silver here isn’t pure. It’s ore, at a low purity, or it would have been taken out decades ago. The rock here won’t hurt you, unless you eat it or rub it into an open wound.”
Somehow, this was less comforting than it should have been. “I can still feel it.”
“You just have to ignore it,” he said.
So not helpful. “But why? Why put yourselves through this?” Why put me through this …
“Protection,” he said. “It’s a magical defense.”
Against what? Was that supposed to make me feel better? My questions were starting to turn circul how much s powerar. “Okay. Fine. But what about … what did you do to Tom?” Their confused expressions made my stomach drop. “The other werewolf who was with me. My packmate, Tom.”
The woman got it first and nodded. “We left him behind. We didn’t hurt him, he’s fine.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, but what choice did I have? “Okay. Now, explain the rest of it. What’s going on here?”
They glanced at each other, a secret communication between two people on very familiar terms. They were together, I didn’t have a doubt. That line about dogs and cats living together surfaced again, briefly. They made their silent bargain, drew their mental straws. The werewolf was the one who spoke.
“There’s a great evil, a powerful adversary—”
“Let me guess: the vampire Gaius Albinus, known as Dux Bellorum or Roman.”
He only showed the mildest shock. I’d already announced that I knew of the ambitious, globe-trotting vampire. He probably wouldn’t believe how much I knew.
“Yes.”
“And what does that vampire—Kumarbis—have to do with Dux Bellorum? What does any of this have to do with him? What’s going on here?” I bet I could ask that question a hundred times and never get a straight answer.
The werewolf drew a breath and spoke slowly, as if searching for words. As if he’d never really had to explain this before. “Kumarbis has the knowledge to destroy Dux Bellorum. Zora has the power, the spell. But she needs five people to work her magic—the right five.”
The right people, representing different aspects of the supernatural. I’d spent enough time around this sort of thing that it almost made sense.
I chuckled; it was the only way I had to insult them. “You’re probably thinking I should be flattered. You’ve kidnapped me, humiliated me, but it’s to save the world so of course it’s all right.”
He raised his hand in a calming gesture and shook his head. Was he actually blushing? Embarrassed? “I wouldn’t ask you to think that this is all right. I only ask for your understanding—”
My voice shook with anger. “This is not how you go about earning someone’s understanding.”
The were-lion jumped in. “Kumarbis believes if you know too much before the time of the ritual, your mind will close. You won’t become a true avatar. You must let the spirit of your predecessor fill you. You can’t force it.”
“Avatar, what do you mean, avatar?”
“We’re more than just the right people,” the man said. “We’re avatars—representatives of the divine. That’s why Kumarbis needs us. It has to be us, the five of us, and no one else.”
Avatars of the divine, figures from very ancient stories. There was a kind of power in that, I supposed. Symbolic, if nothing else. This all felt like a
