CHAPTER12
Aodhan crumpled up yet another page of useless notes, scowling in frustration. Modifying Tensor’s Brilliant Revelation by swapping ritual components for their polar opposites wasn’t going to achieve the desired effect. Unless, of course, one was trying to replace one’s immediate environs with a twenty-foot-wide smoking crater.
He leaned his elbows on the table, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. It wasn’t that concealing Cathy’s human nature was technically difficult. If she’d been stolen as a child and raised in the unseelie or seelie courts, her aura would have naturally taken on fae aspects, like someone picking up an accent. He just had no idea how to speed up the process.
Yet he had the nagging sense that he had seen something like this before. Recently, too. But try as he might, he couldn’t bring the relevant page or cover to mind.
With a sigh, he reached for the next book. Without a clear starting point, he was reduced to flipping through every volume even tangentially related to interactions with humans, in the hope something would trigger a flash of insight.
It would have gone a lot faster with Cathy to help… but that would have risked her stumbling across some mention of fae knights and their bonded steeds. As quick-witted as she was, it would only take her uncovering a few pieces of information for her to spot the inconsistencies in his story—
*Aodhan!*
Cathy’s mental cry yanked him out of his chair. Without conscious intent, he snapped into his birth form, overturning the table and sending books flying. Heedless of the priceless pages crunching under his hooves, he charged for the portal.
Or rather, where the portal should have been. He’d expected the tree to have already responded to his alarm, yet the wall remained stubbornly blank. He skidded on his haunches, practically sitting on his tail to avoid embedding the full length of his horn in the wood.
“Outside!” He needed no magic ritual to pinpoint Cathy’s position. The spike of her alarm lanced through his heart. “Now!”
The tree obeyed with odd reluctance. Aodhan was moving even before it had finished forming the opening. Rough bark scraped against his folded wings as he forced his way through the narrow gap.
He burst out into daylight, horn leveled and ready, and found himself seriously menacing a couple of oblivious butterflies. His frantic gaze found no sign of Cathy. Consulting his instinctive sense of her location, he realized she was on the opposite side of the clearing, at the edge of the woods. The bloody tree had brought him out on the wrong side of the trunk.
With a curse, he broke into a full gallop, hurtling over roots. As he ran, he reached out to the protective spells he’d laid over the clearing, trying to determine what could have happened. Anything malicious shouldn’t even have been able to approach his oak without him noticing, let alone breach his defenses—
Except they weren’t breached. With a jolt, he realized that every spell was still perfectly intact, lying dormant and ready. Not a single ward had been triggered. Either whoever had surprised Cathy was a master mage of incredible skill, or…
“Oh no.” He strained every muscle, putting on a fresh burst of speed. “Goddesses, please, no.”
The far side of the clearing came into view at last. With a sinking heart, he failed to spot any hostile archmage or armored high sidhe prince. Apart from Cathy, there was only one other person present. Just a long-limbed, gangling figure all in white, hunched barefoot on a tree root like a tattered, storm-blown bird. The crow-cat perched on his shoulder, while Noodle stood protectively in front of Cathy, hackles raised.
“Aodhan!” Cathy turned, her eyes widening. “Er, is everything all right?”
He abruptly became aware of his current animal body. He would have transformed immediately, but he was still too rattled. Transfiguration was not something to attempt when out of breath, at least not if you didn’t want to end up with your head on backwards.
“I heard your call,” he said. “I assumed you were under attack.”
From his lofty perch on the root, the man in white peered down at him. “You’ve changed.”
“Thank you,” Aodhan snapped. “I am quite aware. Give me a moment.”
With considerable effort, he managed to focus inward. He’d done this spell enough times that he no longer needed external aids like crystals or pentagrams. He visualized the runes in his head, silently chanting the brief incantation. The familiar brief ripple of agony tore through his body, every cell ripping apart and remaking itself—and then he was himself again.
“There.” Out of habit, he flexed his hands, checking every joint. Fingers were always the hardest part to get right. “What are you doing here, Motley?”
The man in white cocked his head, regarding him first out of one eye, then the other. The motion was distinctly bird-like. Unlike Aodhan himself, Motley never bothered to try to conceal his animal nature. Possibly, as a natural-born shapeshifter, he simply didn’t care whether other people viewed him as a person or a beast.
“Cuan sent me to beg for your help,” Motley said, absently stroking the purring crow-cat under her beak. Then he frowned, glancing at Cathy. “But she’s already here. Did I already tell you this?”
So Cuan had attempted to contact him, as Cathy had mistakenly assumed. Aodhan relaxed a little, silently blessing Motley’s scrambled, shattered mind. He’d never been able to determine what had devastated the raven shifter’s psyche—let alone attempt to repair the damage—but it had left Motley with only the vaguest grasp of time. Perhaps the situation was not yet irrecoverable.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I found her, and she’s safe now. We’re working on a plan to rescue her son.”
“Good, good.” Motley paused, his forehead wrinkling as he studied Cathy. “Hello. Do I know you?”
“No,” Cathy said gently. “This is the first time we’ve met. But I know you. You’re Motley. I’ve heard about you from Cuan. You helped my friend Tamsin when she was tithed to the unseelie fae. Do you remember Tamsin?”
“Tamsin,” Motley muttered. He delved into his tattered white tunic, searching through hidden pockets, and pulled out a small button. He held it up, obsidian eyes brightening. “Tamsin, yes. Cuan’s treasure. They found their way home?”