Fallen University: Year Three

He directed the question at Xero, who looked like he’d just been asked to find the square root of 3,492, but Hannah surprised me by answering.

“Yes. For one full day every six days when they’re sedentary, and for twelve to sixteen hours every three days when they’re active.”

Xero shot her a grateful look, and she smiled at him.

“They’re certainly active.” Jayce frowned at the footprint in front of him. “But they’re walking more slowly than they were before. However far ahead they are, I think they’ve had to sleep at least once. Still…” He shook his head and didn’t finish the thought.

“Still, we probably won’t catch up with them until they get to where they’re going.” Xero finished Jayce’s thought for him. “Which will probably be a training camp or some other kind of military outpost belonging to Gavriel. Unless it’s his stronghold itself. Something bigger than the fortress where I was kept.”

“Which would suck,” Kingston said with a grimace. “Let’s hope it’s just an outpost.”

“Better not hope and just stay away.”

I jumped. That comment hadn’t come from any of my guys, or from Hannah.

The voice came out of the bushes beside us. It was a sultry, smoky voice, like one of those lounge singers they always force into those movies set in the nineteen-forties.

I was on the defensive in an instant, squinting at the bushes. “Who’s there?”

The laugh sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once. It snaked into my brain and tried to lull me into a peaceful, receptive state.

I blocked it, my jaw clenching. “All right, siren, show yourself.”

The laugh stopped abruptly, and the bushes in front of me exploded as a wild-haired, sleepy-eyed woman jumped forward. She tossed her head and sniffed in my direction.

“Siren? Siren, she says. Have you been in the underworld long, dearie? You should know better than to accuse a stranger of being a”—she spat on the ground—“filthy siren.”

“She meant no offense,” Xero assured her hastily. “You are very powerful, wherever those powers come from.”

She offered a crooked smile and her black eyes darkened appreciatively.

“I am, aren’t I? My mother was a siren. That’s how I know they’re filthy. But my father was a witch, you see, and that’s what I am. A witch. A witch who knows better than to follow Gavriel’s beasts anywhere. Bad as the Custodians, he is. All control, no sense of propriety.”

She sniffed again and scuffed at the dusty ground with her bare feet. Then she glanced up at us.

“Come on then.” She lifted a hand, gesturing for us to follow her. “You might be stupid, but even stupid people need to eat. Maybe the mage will talk some sense into you thicky-thick-thickets.”

“She’s insane,” Kai breathed.

“Yeah. So are we though,” Hannah whispered back, a glint of humor flashing in her eyes, although her expression was serious. “But if she tries to feed you eye of newt, find a way to get out of it.”

We followed the woman’s untamable mop of black hair into the bushes, and after walking for several minutes, we found an encampment in the clearing. Tents made of hide had been hastily stitched together over thick branches, and food was cooking over a small fire in the center. A dozen or more underworld beings stopped and stared at us.

“Elena, what have you done?”

An old man with a hunched back stepped forward. His beard was white and long on either side, but appeared to have been singed off in the middle. He regarded us warily.

“’Tisn’t my fault, father, they followed me home.” She wrapped herself around Hannah and began stroking her hair as if it were cat’s fur. “They’re pretty pets. Can’t I keep them?”

A hysterical giggle broke through Hannah’s lips, and she pressed them tightly together, her eyes widening.

“She isn’t a pet, Elena,” I said, gently unwrapping the crazy woman’s arms from around Hannah. The crazy lady seemed harmless enough for now, but I wasn’t about to trust anyone we met down here any farther than I could throw them until they proved themselves worthy of trust. “And we can’t stay. We’re tracking Gavriel’s cyclops.”

“Whatever are you doing that for?” the old man asked grumpily.

“I told them not to, father.” Elena gave another little sniff. “But they’re naughty pets and won’t listen. Let’s tie them up until they’re trained.”

She beamed at us, apparently quite proud of her idea. Xero and I shared an uncomfortable look, and I took a step toward the old man.