Rituals (Cainsville 5)

Another scene flashed through her mind. A forest. A cwn being ripped apart by something Lloergan couldn't see, a blur of black against a night equally dark.

In the memory, Lloergan leapt to save another pack brother, but she couldn't find anything to grab, her jaws passing through shadow and fog. The thing hit her. Glanced across her face, barely seeming to strike it while leaving fire in its wake, red-hot pain in her eye, her ear, blood spraying as she howled in pain and rage.

She twisted, fighting half blind. The fog caught her by the leg, sending her up, flying through the air, the only thought in her head that she had to save the others, save her brothers and sister and protect her Huntsman.

She would hit the ground and bounce back. She had to bounce back, fight with everything--

She hit the ground, and the world went dark.

Lloergan snapped from the memory. Ricky knew what it was--the terrible fight that had crippled her. She'd woken in that forest to find her pack dead, and she'd slunk off in shame, to self-imposed exile, never understanding what had happened, what enemy they'd fought.

Now she knew. She saw her new pack brother ripped apart, and she understood.

This was what she had faced before. This was what had crippled her. Defeated her. And now it was here, again, doing the same thing, and terror filled her--complete and absolute terror. She saw the sluagh coming. Saw her pack sister rise up, snarling, ready to fight and...

And Lloergan ran. Turned tail and ran.

THE DARKNESS

Gabriel heard Meic scream. Not a shout in Welsh for the hounds, but an honest scream of grief and rage, then shouting, "Derwyn!" as he started running, Wmffre lunging to pull him back.

Gabriel paid them no mind. He had quite enough to deal with. The sluagh were coming, and he'd finally gotten the damned door unlocked, only to have Ricky collapse. Collapse unconscious, beyond waking, it seemed, leaving Gabriel to drag him into the ruined building and then, when that proved unreasonably difficult, heave Ricky up over his shoulder.

This task more than fully occupied Gabriel, leaving no time to worry about the Huntsmen and whatever battle was unfolding there. He did look up sharply, for the dryads, calling, "Helia? Alexios?" They raced through, presuming he needed help, and he let them think as much, not that he'd felt a spark of worry.

He got Ricky inside, and the dryads cleared a spot in the vine-choked debris. As Gabriel lowered him, Helia checked Ricky's pulse and declared it strong, and Gabriel said, "Good," not caring if it was obvious that he was concerned.

The Huntsmen came in then, and Wmffre nodded at Meic and said, "The sluagh took his hound, Derwyn."

Gabriel paused, feeling the Huntsman was waiting for a response, and then finding it with, "I'm sorry," which he was--sorry for the fact that Meic had come to their aid and paid for it with a beloved companion. For Gabriel, though, the news only made him think of that raven, torn apart by the melltithiwyd.

He couldn't stop thinking about that damnable bird. Of seeing it explode in blood and feeling his heart seize, a flood of fear and pain. For a bird? Of course, he understood that it was not merely a bird, but these things did happen. Casualties of war.

But that raven...

Another thought rammed forward, taking precedence, and his head shot up as he said, "Lloergan?"

"She was there. That's all we saw."

Gabriel's gaze shot to the door, and he had to squelch the urge to go after the hound. The urge itself gave him pause, but he rationalized it easily enough. Olivia and Ricky cared for the beast, and he did not want to see them hurt by its death.

He nodded toward Ricky. "Is that what's happened? He's bonded with his hound?"

"Perhaps." Wmffre checked Ricky's pulse. "He seems all right."

"What if--?" Gabriel was about to ask what happened if Lloergan perished with Ricky bonded to her. The answer seemed suddenly paramount, not only for Ricky but for...

For what? He didn't know. He kept seeing that raven. Yet before he could get the question out, a blast of icy terror seized him, his head shooting up, one thought taking over.

"They're coming. Now. The sluagh. Close the--" He was about to tell them to close the shutters, but enough of himself remained to realize that was ridiculous in a half-ruined building. "Farther," he said. "Get in farther. Look for a room without windows. Hurry."

"We'll stop the sluagh," Helia said. "You take cover. Let us--"

"No."

"We can--"

He wheeled on the dryad. "No, Helia. You cannot. You will not. You'll stay with us. This isn't the melltithiwyd. It's the sluagh."