Falling Light (Game of Shadows #2)(43)

PtesanWi, they called her.

Over the centuries she had acquired other names. Dream Weaver, for the protections she could offer against dark spirits that preyed upon the helpless in nightmares. Star Woman, for she came from another world. Grandmother Spider, for she could spin webs that could heal, but her bite could also poison.

As those elders grew old and died, her visitors dwindled until only Jerry, his son Nicholas and now Jamie knew of her home. Jerry continued to bring her creatures that needed healing, and some of the birds and animals stayed, such as her shy little fox friend and a young golden eagle that nested at the top of the four-hundred-year-old oak. They were both under stern orders to leave her chickens alone, and they meekly obeyed.

She finished cleaning the kitchen, wiped the area by the sink and leaned her hands on the counter with a frustrated sigh. Then having made a decision, she shrugged into her battered jacket again and stomped down to the pier.

The campfire had been doused, and Michael had piled wet clothes and shoes at the end of the pier. She couldn’t see him anywhere but she heard a slight metallic clanking that came from somewhere on the boat.

She cast a scowling glance around as she climbed aboard. She didn’t like modern boats. She found Michael with his head buried in the bowels of the engine.

Manly and useful. Hrmph.

She snapped, “Hello, idiot.”

“Go away.” His voice echoed in the confined space.

“I will not.” She kicked one of his feet. “Get out here.”

“Fuck off.”

She kicked him again because it felt good. “I came down here to tell you that you are an idiot.”

He pulled out of the engine with the swiftness of a coiling snake. “The hell.”

She grinned, in a fine, fun rage. She had grown to adore this tall, deadly man. “What’s the matter with you?” she said. “You should be in bed resting.” She pointed in the direction of the mainland. “He’s on the hunt. We have no idea how long this haven will hold.”

His hard, white teeth shaped words with biting precision. “Which is why I am making sure there’s been no permanent damage done to our only f**king boat. Then I will check my store of weapons and check the f**king news. Then I will take a f**king nap. Got it?”

“All right.” She gave him a sweet smile and almost laughed out loud at his expression of baffled wrath. She hadn’t managed to get him this riled in years. “That’s not why you’re an idiot, you know.”

He had a wrench gripped in one muscled fist. He threw it, and it bounced off a wall. “You evil, old elf,” he said in a conversational tone. “I could always strangle you. That would shut you up.”

She wagged a finger. “But only for a while.” Her gleeful energy faded. She grew tired again and abandoned her adversarial stance. “You’re an idiot because we could all be gone in a matter of hours. You’re choosing to spend what precious time you have left closed off in that fortress of yours. That’s not who the Creator intended you to be, Michael.”

“Don’t tell me who I’m supposed to be,” he snapped.

His anger was a palpable force that beat at her skin, but she had withstood it before. “That’s my job. To help you remember who you are.”

“You’ve already done that,” he growled. “I know very well who and what I am.”

She blew a frustrated breath out between her teeth. “Mary told me off earlier, and she was right to do so,” she said. “Life isn’t some kind of pale, distant thing you hold at arm’s length. Maybe I have treated our lifetimes as though they are disposable. I watch human lives go by so fast anymore they’re gone in an eyeblink. And I always keep in mind the ultimate price we must be prepared to pay. None of that means we aren’t supposed to live.”

He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, leaving behind a dark smudge. “Are you through?”

She hesitated at his clipped tone, but then pushed on. “No. Like I said to Mary earlier, I don’t have time to mother-hen you two, so I won’t talk about this again. But I’m warning you now. Make peace. Make peace with her, with me, with the Creator, with yourself. Make it now while you can.”

“Old crone.” That too was one of her names. “You’ve made your point.” His expression was bitter but she noticed his voice had lost its edge. He rubbed his forehead with the back of one hand and left a black smear of grease behind. He looked as tired as she felt, tired to the bone and beyond. “How’s Mary?”

“Let me see,” Astra replied in a thoughtful tone. “In the last couple of days, she has lost her sense of her own humanity, her career and her home. She has suffered multiple gunshot wounds, been terrorized by monsters and survived a kidnapping attempt. She went up against the Deceiver and lived to tell about it. She lived through a killer storm, and she just saved a dying man’s life. I think she’s bloody fabulous.”

“That’s not what I meant.” His voice was low.

“Right now, her only friends are two reclusive lunatics on a mission. She leaked a few tears when she took a bath, but she’ll be all right. There’s nothing wrong with her that good sleep, good food and a little time won’t cure. I wove some protections around her and gave her a healing dream when I tucked her in bed.”

He frowned, a quiet, pained expression. “Good.”