Storm's Heart (Elder Races #2)(93)

“Interesting.” Cameron worked on cleaning the pistol she had been given. Her strong, long-fingered hands were confident, capable.

“Magic is so strong in Other lands, Dragos thinks it acts as a sort of natural defense mechanism. He says it works like a body’s immune system,” Niniane said. “Once it recognizes something that acts on some sort of principle of combustion, the magic moves to block it. That’s why guns misfire.” Niniane loaded hers and handed a couple of bullets to Cameron, who took them with her eyebrows still raised.

“You’re not inspiring my confidence with this little chat,” Cameron said.

“Here’s the thing,” Niniane said. “Automatic weapons always seize or misfire as soon as they’re taken over and used, but it can take the magic a little longer to recognize one of the primitive guns. You never know when they might explode, or misfire, so they’re dangerous and nobody uses them, but they always fire at least once.”

Cameron’s face was hard, her hazel eyes clear and direct. “The gun might fire, but it might also kill you at the same time.”

“Tiago and I were talking last night about a risk/benefit analysis.” She sat with her loaded derringer in her lap. She met the other woman’s troubled gaze. “The potential benefit might outweigh the risk.”

“The situation would have to be extreme,” Cameron said. “Someone would have to consider this a weapon of last resort.”

Niniane nodded. She thought of slipping in her brother’s blood. Then she imagined slipping in Tiago’s blood.

She said, “And then nobody would see it coming.”

She managed to persuade Cameron to keep the contents of the box to herself. As she told Cameron, if Tiago found out, he would go on a rampage and take them away from her. In all likelihood the guns would never be fired, and having them with her would give her a severe kind of comfort. Still the other woman remained resistant until Niniane finally snapped, “It’s none of his business, Cameron! If I ever feel the need to fire one of these, Tiago won’t be around to help me.”

Cameron looked grim but at last fell silent.

Niniane had saddlebags and trunks brought up. She and Cameron packed the inlaid box, along with the rest of the things.

Soon after dawn the next day, the party that was crossing over to Adriyel gathered outside the stables. Dew still sprinkled the lawn, but the early morning air was fast losing its crisp coolness. The weather forecast stated Chicago was going to see a summer scorcher that day, with temperatures climbing into the mid-nineties.

Niniane watched the travel party from her upstairs window. It was a large, complex gathering.

The Nightkind had provided their own mounts, pack animals and supplies. Their eight humans were dressed in functional clothing much like what Niniane wore, jeans, boots, T-shirts and jackets. Three figures wore long-sleeved turtlenecks and gloves under robes and ground-length cloaks. They wore sunglasses and ski masks, with the hoods from their cloaks pulled over their heads. They wouldn’t take chances with something as deadly as sunlight. Probably under all that protective clothing they wore 100+ full spectrum SPF sunscreen as well. Those three would be Rhoswen, Duncan and the third Vampyre whom Niniane had not yet met. One of them—guessing by the Vampyre’s height and build, Niniane thought it was probably Rhoswen—held the halter of a black Arabian stallion. The stallion had a blanket on its back but no saddle. He snorted and tried to rear, but the slim robed figure held him firmly to the ground.

Each of the Dark Fae had their own group. They all wore some variety of Dark Fae travel dress, consisting of tunics, leggings, knee-high boots, and either thigh-length riding coats cut with a split to the small of the back or cloaks.

Arethusa waited with ten troops. She was dressed for travel as her troops were, in a plain brown battledress uniform consisting of a leather half-armor jacket, trousers and boots. The Commander was busy inspecting their mounts and the wagon train of supplies that the troops would be responsible for safeguarding.

Justice Kellen was striking, as he was the only white-haired figure of the party. He moved his tall, lean body with an energy and vigor that belied his white hair. It would be a fatal mistake to believe his age implied infirmity. He stood with his personal entourage of four attendants, his back turned toward the others as he appeared to converse with one of his men in a low voice.

Aubrey and Naida’s group was not quite the smallest, but they shared just four attendants between the two of them. Naida wore a dark green embroidered riding outfit, her black hair pulled back from her beautiful face. Aubrey’s tan and brown riding outfit complemented his wife’s. He checked the stirrups and cinch straps on their horses. His long hair was tied back with a simple strip of leather.

Rune, Aryal and Cameron made their own small group within the much larger party. Rune’s tawny head bent close to Cameron’s. The human was laughing at something the gryphon had just said. Niniane smiled to see Rune working his usual charm. Aryal stood with her arms crossed. The harpy studied the rest of the travel party, her stormy raptor’s gaze piercing, then she looked up and caught sight of Niniane at the window. Aryal sent a pointed sidelong glance to Rune and Cameron and rolled her eyes, and Niniane burst out laughing.

Then Carling came into view. Her body moved with the flowing sinuousness of a cheetah. A ripple of silence passed over the party as she appeared. The Vampyre’s dark hair was not the raven black of the Dark Fae coloring. Instead hers sparked with auburn glints in the early morning sunshine. She had it pinned back with the two stilettos. She was barefoot and wore a plain black cotton caftan that was slit to midthigh at the sides. The garment flowed around her lithe honey-colored body as she moved. As Carling approached her group, she gathered speed and leaped onto the Arabian stallion’s back. She gathered the reins from the Vampyre, and controlled the stallion easily with her hands and knees.