The Hawk Lord by Amy Sumida
Chapter Seven
When night fell, I pulled out the few tools I'd brought with me—a grappling hook with rope, gloves, and lock picks. I checked the lock picks before tucking them into a boot, then slipped on the gloves and readied the hook by unfolding it and clicking it open. I took a step forward, but the Hawk Lord grabbed my wrist and stopped me. I looked back at him.
Dalsharan lifted a hand and gently brushed my hair behind my ear. I stared up at him, mesmerized, my heart suddenly racing. But then he slipped something in my ear and tapped it in place. It buzzed as it connected—a communication device.
“I'll be listening,” he said softly. “If you need me, call my name.”
“It's kind of a long name.” I was trying to be funny but it came out breathless.
“You can call me Dal.” He brushed my hair back down over my ear. “While we're on our mission.”
I cleared my throat and hurried away before I embarrassed myself, tossing a, “Thanks,” over my shoulder.
“Be careful, Ravyn,” his voice purred through my earpiece.
Then I was creeping over the dark hills and melding with every shadow. I had done some scouting for the Hawks but if I'm honest, I'd learned most of my stealth by playing pranks on my friends. I could sneak up on a man and dump soapy bathwater over his head in three seconds flat without spilling a drop on myself. I never did it to women, though. Not because I thought women soldiers should be treated differently, but because they cannot take a fucking joke. They always think you're screwing with them because of their sex and then they complain to your captain and... I reached the wall and realized I'd spent the whole trip thinking about jokes and female soldiers. What the fuck?
I blamed it on Dalsharan. Dal. The fucker. Why'd he go and play with my hair like that just before I had to sneak past monsters? Who does that shit? Idiots who ate jerky when they could be eating steak, that's who. Oh, you can call me Dal but only while we're in the land of evil and no one can hear you but the monsters and me. Gee, thanks, Dick. I mean, Dal. Then I grinned because he so wasn't a dick. I'd idolized him before but after spending a few hours with him, I had gotten to see him as a person, and I liked the man even better than the idol.
Right. Climbing now.
I waited for the passing of the guards, knowing I'd have five minutes before another soldier made his rounds. I tossed up the hook and it caught on the first go. It did make a loud clink, however, so I waited a minute just to be sure no one came to investigate. Then I started climbing.
“You are a monkey,” Dal's voice drawled in my ear.
“Would you mind shutting the fuck up while I scale a fucking Farungal wall?” I muttered while I slid my foot over an iron spike.
“Remember who you're talking to,” he growled.
“Oh, sorry. Would you mind shutting the fuck up, my lord?”
Dal chuckled. “Okay, I'll be quiet, but I'm here with you, Ravyn. You're not alone.”
“Thanks,” I said again. This time, I meant it.
I reached the top of the wall and clung to the edge, listening once more. Still clear. I swung my legs over the edge and dropped into a crouch. A quick movement collected my hook and I spun its length of cord up as I moved into the shadows. There was a guard on his way. I could hear the swish of his tail across stone. But I also knew that in the opposite direction, there was no one. I sprinted that way as I folded the hook, wrapped it in the thin rope, and tucked it into my belt.
My crouching run along the battlements gave me a bird's-eye view of the courtyard. Although the Farungal were monsters, they weren't animals. In addition to their prompt patrols, the fortress was orderly and clean. I crept down a set of stairs and dashed across the courtyard toward the keep. A group of Farungal passed by, but I ducked behind a stack of barrels just in time. They grunted at each other, one shoving another so hard he went stumbling forward. The shoved Farungal swung back around and launched himself at his companion. In seconds, a monster brawl was happening less than two feet away from my face.
I looked from the fight to the front door. A bunch of Farungal came running out of the keep. I thought they were going to break up the fight but instead, they gathered around eagerly and started placing wagers. For a second, I felt right at home.
The keep doors had been left wide open and in a few minutes, the rush of gawking Farungals slowed to a stop. I couldn't believe my luck; they were serving as their own distraction. I grinned and shot into the keep.
Once inside, I darted along the walls until I reached the relative safety of an alcove—a little nook with a window. I slid behind the curtain, a little surprised that Farungal bothered with draperies, and closed my eyes. I wasn't about to blunder blindly around the stronghold; I wanted to know where I was going. So, I focused, searching for a feeling like the one Dal had given me.
There! A tingle. A pulse. Almost a roar.
“The Lion,” I whispered.
“What?” Dal whispered back.
“I feel the stone. Now, shh.”
I could hear his annoyance even in his silence, and I grinned to myself as I slipped out of my hiding place. I followed the roaring pulse deeper into the fortress, carefully pausing at corners to listen for footsteps before moving on.
Although the stronghold was relatively clean, it wasn't hospitable. I passed very little furniture and there was no decoration—no art of any kind. The walls were bare stone and the further into the castle I went, the colder it got. The pulse was taking me down, leading me beneath the fortress and into the earth, but this cold wasn't merely the chill of damp rock. My breath puffed in the air before me.
“What is that sound?” the Hawk Lord whispered in my ear.
Sound? What the fuck was he talking about? Then I heard it. “My teeth are chattering,” I whispered back. “Now be quiet. I'm below the keep.”
He went quiet. I went quiet too, clenching my jaw together to keep from making even that little noise. Because the pulse was stronger, but it wasn't alone. I sensed something else down there, lurking in the dark corridors. The lanterns that had lit the upper level were more sporadic here. I'd thought that a gift at first, but now, I wasn't so sure. Every patch of shadow became sinister. Even the wavering light from the few lanterns seemed to fear it. I slid through the darkness anyway, but I became painfully aware of my surroundings. Every tiny hair on my body lifted as if they knew we were walking into danger.
But no claws came for me in the darkness; I crept ahead unimpeded. Then light, brighter and warmer than the corridor lanterns, pierced the darkness. It seeped from an arched passage and with it came the pulse. I padded forward slowly, listening for any sound that might alert me to the presence of a Farungal. None came. Whatever was down there, I had managed to bypass it. I stepped up to the passage and found it barred by an iron gate.
Iron—this was definitely the place. The Fae, especially the Sidhe, have an aversion to iron. They couldn't touch it. That is, they could, but it wouldn't be pleasant. Iron weakens the Fae and represses their magic. It also hurts like a bitch, I'm told. They'd never be able to touch this gate long enough to pick its lock. But I could.
I grinned even as I shivered violently. I'd never been a fan of the cold, and I'd grown to especially hate it after fighting the Farungal, who seep cold like normal people give off heat. They are truly cold-blooded. Not like reptiles, who have to rely on external heat sources and can slow their metabolisms in colder environments. No, the Farungal literally have cold blood. Although, some say that they are cousins to the Sidhe, that the Farungal's animal forms were reptilian and then evolved into what they are now. That they practiced dark magic that forced them into their beasts constantly and altered them into evil things whose bodies create that famous Farungal chill. It preceded them into battle—a wave of cold generated by a large gathering of monsters.
But the chill in this room was only a remnant. So many of them had come here so often that they had cooled the stones and the earth surrounding them had served as insulation. It was like walking into an icebox. It felt as if there should be slabs of venison hanging on hooks in there. I glanced inside briefly, just to make sure no monsters were hiding inside, and there wasn't so much as a jug of milk. Nope, not an icebox, just a favorite hangout of Farungal. Yay!
I grinned grimly as the lock clicked, then slipped my tools back into my boot. The gate swung open silently and for some reason, that raised my hackles. But I stepped forward anyway, across the frigid stone, to a shelf chiseled out of the wall. Similar shelves lined the entire room with all manner of oddities upon them. Massive trunks stood in lines across the floor, doubtless full of more strange things. I didn't bother inspecting the Farungal treasures. I had a feeling they'd scare the hell out of me.
Instead, I focused on the shelf before me. The source of that roaring pulse was there, and the pulse sped up as if it knew salvation was in reach. I saw it immediately—a pendant like Dalsharan's. Its stone was a shade of gold too, but it was a paler shade than his, closer to lion fur than hawk feathers. The Lion Soul. The words rang through my mind as if a god had spoken them. I ignored the tremble in my hand and snatched it up. I was going to put it in my pocket but at the last second, I decided to slip it over my neck. I figured it would be safer there.
As soon as the stone came into contact with my chest, a burst of energy rushed through me. Vibrated through me. I gave a broken cry and fell onto my hands and knees. My whole body twitched, muscles going into spasm. My vision went strange—sharper but also less colorful. I drew in a deep breath and lifted my head to roar.
“Ravyn!” Dalsharan shouted in my ear; he sounded as if he'd been shouting for a while.
I gasped and shook my head. Had I been about to roar? In a fucking Farungal stronghold? In their frigid treasure room? What the fuck?!
“Ravyn!” Dal shouted again.
“I'm fine,” I panted. “Give me a fucking second.”
“What happened?”
“I got the pendant. It's safe. I put it on to—”
“You did what?!” he shouted even louder.
“Was I not supposed to do that?” I smirked.
“Great blessed Moon,” Dal whispered.
I lost my smirk and scrambled to my feet. “What?” I asked, my voice going panicked. “What did I do?” I pulled the pendant up, over my head urgently. A shimmering glow ran down my arms, following the path of the pendant as I lowered it. The glow seeped out of my skin and into the stone, then winked out. “Oh, wait, I think it's okay now.”
“You think it's okay?” he growled.
“I took it off and this glow left me.”
Dal was silent for so long that I got worried.
“Dal?”
“Get back here. Now, Corporal!”
“Yes, Hawk Lord!” I said automatically, the soldier in me responding to his tone.
I tucked the pendant into my pants' pocket and crept out of the room.
