Gathering Storm (The Salvation of Tempestria Book 2) by Gary Stringer (howl and other poems .txt) 📕

conversation like nothing special is happening. Then no-one will get hurt.”

As an additional precaution, Daelen did not look like himself. He was using something he called a ‘perception filter,’ which worked even on minimal power. This meant that anyone who was not expecting to see Daelen would just see an average guy, with no particularly distinctive features. Most people wouldn’t know higher planar energy if it was clearly labelled, so almost anyone who tried to get a power reading would think he was just some wizard. The latest in a line of wizard lovers that rumour insisted Catriona had enjoyed.

Just then, Pyrah looked around and saw Daelen was awake.

Daelen guessed she must have sent a sympathic message to her half-Faery friend, because Catriona remarked over her shoulder, “So, you’re back with us then, eh? How are you feeling?”

“What happened?” he asked. “What’s going on?” Then with a weak smile he added, “and while I’m going for the clichés, ‘Where am I’?”

“You passed out on the way,” Cat explained. “It was all I could do to keep you from falling off. As for where,” she pointed to a twisted metal sign on the floor that depicted a Faery with wings hovering over a road, along with the words ‘FaerWay Tavern.’

“That’s disgusting,” Daelen spat.

“Well, I don’t like vandalism, either,” Cat replied defensively, “but I couldn’t stand to look at it any longer.”

Daelen shook his head and winced. “No, I mean, the sign is disgusting,” he clarified, then in answer to Catriona’s surprised look, explained, “A very long time ago, a…” he hesitated, “…friend once taught me a few things about Faery culture.”

Rose. Her name was Rose. She had been with him for twenty years, all those centuries ago. Twenty years exactly from the day they met to the day she left. Seeing the way Catriona used magic was bringing forth old memories. Painful memories. Good memories.

Before he could try to speak further, she hushed him.

“Just relax, sleep…or I’ll knock you out myself.”

By the look in her eyes, Daelen was prepared to believe she might just carry out that threat, and he was in no position to argue. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so powerless. By contrast, Catriona looked so formidable. He realised it made her very attractive, but he dismissed the observation as a symptom of exhaustion.

“Yeah, I hate this place,” Cat agreed, in response to his earlier point, “but it was the only practical option.”

She went on to explain how a couple of helpful souls had ‘volunteered’ to fetch a bed from one of the rooms. There was no way she was letting them get trapped in one small room with only one way out.

“It’s amazing how helpful people can become when they meet my sweet serpent,” she reflected, stroking Pyrah’s head for a moment. “Pyrah just seems to have that kind of positive effect. Once you were settled, though, I had to take a few…precautions to make sure you got the rest you needed.”

Cat grabbed a drink from a nearby table and threw it a few feet in front of her. The glass smashed, the contents pooled on the floor, and she used that liquid to create a frozen shield of ice to further cut off the crowd.

Relaxing, she sat down on a stool and casually inspected her fingernails. “So, it’s all been quite exciting, really.”

Daelen couldn’t help smiling at his companion’s attitude, but there was one thing she seemed to have forgotten: there was still a piece of him inside her.

“It would be best if you gave me back to myself, now,” he told her.

“Best for me or best for you?” the druidess asked, pointedly.

“Cat…” Daelen began, understanding but not wanting to answer.

Catriona was having none of it.

“Don’t avoid the question. Would returning your essence to you now, as you are, in this state, be good for you or not? And don’t even think about lying to me.”

“No,” Daelen answered reluctantly. “It would be better for you, but expending effort on reintegration would set back my recovery significantly.”

“How long before you recharge?”

“Three, maybe four hours.”

“Then thank you for your concern, but the subject is now closed for at least the next three hours. It’s my fault we’re in this mess and my responsibility to get us out of it. You say you’re not a hero, so don’t act like one. Don’t worry about saving me, save yourself first. I can defend this position against just about anybody mortal, but if your clone decides to drop by again, I’ll need you at full strength.”

“I can see there’s no use arguing with you.”

“Good, you’re learning. Now, those three hours don’t start until you’re asleep. There’s nothing to worry about, so just close your eyes.”

*****

But for my mother, there was something to worry about, gentle reader. She didn’t plan on telling Daelen this, but after her confrontation with Mandalee, something strange had happened. Her staff fell out of her pocket dimension – that hadn’t happened for years. She caught it, reflexively, almost letting Daelen fall off the horse in the process, and an otherworldly voice came to her:

White faction first attempt gone. Two attempts remain.

*****

“Go to sleep,” Cat insisted, “or I’ll start singing ‘Angels Among Us’.”

“What’s that?” Daelen wondered.

“Oh, just an old Faery lullaby. It was the first thing that popped into my head.”

“Then sing it,” he requested with a smile.

Cat flushed, clearly embarrassed. “What? You want me to sing a children’s lullaby to a ‘grown man’ in front of all these people?” she whispered.

“Why not? You brought it up.”

“I wasn’t serious,” she insisted. “What will they think?”

“They’ll think it’s cute.”

“Exactly. I’m trying to act tough, not cute.”

“Are you saying you can’t do both at the same time?” Daelen asked, slyly.

Catriona couldn’t believe it. Suggesting she couldn’t do something was the surest way to make her determined to do it. She saw it as a challenge. But they’d only just met – how could he possibly know that?

“Oh, alright!” she surrendered. “But if the lullaby doesn’t send