Read Fly by Midnight Online

Authors: Lauren Quick

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths

Fly by Midnight (10 page)

Brutal honesty was turning out to be a personality trait of northerners. Doubt gnawed at her insides. Honora could easily start a fire, and she knew tons of protective wards, but perhaps she wasn’t as prepared as she realized. Obviously, her plan for a quick scouting mission was overly simplistic. Ren turned to leave.

“Wait,” she said. She’d be foolish to turn down help, especially when it was standing on her doorstep. “I suppose we can work something out.” She strode over to the table and pushed out the chair opposite her with her foot. “Take a seat.”

Honora pulled the parchment scroll Sawyer had given her out of her pack. She unrolled the highly detailed map illustrating the North Woods on the table in front of them. Sawyer had really outdone himself with the enchanted map that illustrated the town of Rawlands.

“Nice,” Ren said, engrossed.

“I’m tracking energy fields, trying to locate the station.” She whispered an activation spell and traced her finger across a pulsing blue line. “The entire area surrounding your town is vibrating with magical energy. This is the area that I want to search,” she directed his attention to a patch of forest she’d picked out. “I’m going to explore the hot spots first. Someone has to be creating that magic for it to be showing up in such high levels.”

“Well, you won’t find the station there, if that’s what you’re wondering. It’s not on that line, levels or not.”

“How do you know? I thought no one knew where the station was.” She raised her brow skeptically.

“I’ll show you.” Ren held his hand over the map, whispered a spell, and his eyes shimmered and refracted an internal glow. His hands turned the color of the parchment and black lines crawled across his skin as if the map grew over him. His
persuasion
was much more than just guiding witches and wizards into the woods.

“What are you, really?” Honora knew a young wizard back in Stargazer City who could hold maps in his head. He could navigate every street or alley with ease as if the map were spread before him.

“My
persuasion
is in tracking, so I make a living as a guide. I know these woods because I can feel the magical pulses of energy. The witches and wizards who live in this area have adapted to the ways of nature. We use a lot of earth magic, which generates a strong signal. The hot spots are local covens, not the station.” Ren pointed to an area that was totally dark, no magic, nothing. “I’d try there.” The light in his eyes flickered and dimmed. His hands suddenly turned ghostly pale.

“What’s happening?” Her eyes widened in disbelief. It was the last place Honora would look. “Do I need to state the obvious? The wall is one of the most powerful magical barriers in Everland. I’d say that generates a signature. You’re suggesting it exists in a magical dead zone.”

He pulled his hands away from the map and they returned to normal. “If someone’s trying to keep a low profile, an area with a high magical signature isn’t really low profile, now is it?”

He had a point. “Then how do they camouflage the magic from the barrier?” she countered.

“That, I don’t know. You’ll have to trust my advice.”

“Have you ever been to this area?” she asked, even more intrigued with the tracker now that she had seen his talents.

He shook his head. “Never.”

“Why not?”

“I always felt that the emptiness was a warning, and whenever I get a warning, I try to listen.”

Rosalyn had been right. Honora needed a guide, and she had a good feeling about Ren. He was solid. “To me, that warning is a beacon. That’s where I’m headed, if you’re still interested?”

“Say the word.”

They agreed to meet in an hour down in the lobby.

“That is, if you can keep up with me.” She smiled. “I’m not going on foot.”

“You’re a flyer? Good, that’ll help us. But you should know that the skies are a little tricky out here. Our wildlife is robust.”

“Tricky? Robust?” She could only imagine what that meant.

“You’ll see.”

10

 

H
onora cracked the window. Barnaby ruffled his feathers from his perch on the ledge and gave her a little nip. No matter where she went, he always found her. Speaking with Ren had given her some much-needed insight into the woods. She sifted through her gear, changing her packing strategy. They’d agreed to prepare for an overnight stay just in case. She was glad to have her thick, insulated flying suit and hood. The cold permeated everything here, giving her a shiver down to her bones.

Once Honora was ready to go, she had a second thought and dug around in her bag for the cracked globe January had given her—the blind eye, Vivi had called it—and slipped it into her pack. January had never done her wrong before. Maybe she would get lucky and the thing would turn out to be useful. She adjusted her goggles and gloves, slipped her narrow pack on her back, and took to the sky, via the window.

She circled around to the front porch to meet up with Ren. The icy morning air felt like she’d splashed cold water on her face and tasted like fresh pine on her tongue. The sky was clear, and so bright it made her squint. Her instincts were sharp. Taking on a guide was the right move. She needed
guidance
, and though she hated to ask for it, she was glad both Ren and her trusted familiar were by her side.

Her eyes widened when they met up, and Honora suppressed a smile. Ren was leaning against a seriously cool snowcraft with a cocky smirk on his face.
Wizards and their toys,
she thought, but the craft was wicked nice. It could easily hold two riders and had room to store gear in the back. They agreed Honora would fly ahead, and he’d take a logging route out to the first point she’d designated on the map. Her plan was to scout the search grid. A swirl of snow filled the clearing as Ren spelled his snowcraft to life and raced up the trail.

The forest was so dense it felt like Honora was squeezing into a crowded room of branches as she took flight. Pine needles swept over her arms and legs like soft bristles. A sense of being watched crawled up her back. She was no longer the hunter but a small predator in a wild world. Her comfortable city streets were far away. She was a stranger in the North Woods.

Investigate. Track the Woodsman like working any other case.

Honora lifted her chest, tightened her core, and rose high into the sky. Barnaby kept watch from her left flank. She estimated the flight would take an hour. Her body skimmed the tops of trees. Her senses were on constant alert. The flight was going well until she noticed a thick black mass approaching from the north. Birds normally didn’t bother her. Typically, the flock would shift course elegantly and politely when a flyer was near, avoiding the midair tangle of limbs and wings. Birds were smart, or perhaps they didn’t trust witches to stay out of their way.

Even in Stargazer City, winter caused birds to form large migratory flocks, but Honora had never been this close to one this enormous. The thick mass rushed forward like the snap of a black velvet ribbon, causing her to pull up in alarm. Those birds were coming on fast, and they were much larger than she’d realized. The black birds were a huge species she’d never seen before—giant crows or ravens, or vultures, even. It was hard to tell
what
those giant birds were, and at the moment she didn’t care. Priority number one was getting out of their way.

A high-pitched screech drew Honora’s attention. One of the black birds had flown ahead of the flock and was dive-bombing her familiar. The glossy black behemoth clawed wildly in a spinning figure with talons outstretched. Honora reared back in shock and reacted on sheer instinct, throwing a motion spell from her wand, shooting a gust of wind toward the bird in an attempt to shift it off course, but the attacking fowl held its ground and made another pass at Barnaby. The owl screeched and dove for the forest below, heading for cover.

Suddenly, Honora realized the screech was not a cry for help but a warning. Panic flooded her, but it was too late. Before she could dive down to the safety of the forest, a sheet of giant black crows flew under her, preventing her descent. Unable to avoid collision, Honora braced for impact. Her heart raced. The flock of birds swallowed her in a rush of feathers and frantically spun her inside a tornado of clacking beaks and ruffled feathers. The rising chorus of noise caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise. Terrified, she sent up a small ward to prevent herself from getting ripped to shreds from sharp beaks and claws. Awful thudding sounds surrounded her as the birds collided with her spell as if banging into a magical windshield.

In a desperate escape attempt, Honora rotated her arms and body in a spiraling motion, forcing the flock to widen the space around her. She thrust herself clear of the undulating mass of wings, but the birds shifted, divided their forces, and surrounded her in a flurry of feathers and claws. Her ward weakened, and she was flung upward, riding a storm of wings and hysterical flapping. Her arms and legs flailed. She screamed, grasping at the empty air, fighting with all her strength.

A loud popping sound filled the sky. Black birds dropped like stones to the ground. More popping followed, and more birds fell. Someone was shooting spells from the ground—tiny snaps of magical charges were taking down the flock. It had to be Ren, and it gave her an idea. Honora took a deep breath and relaxed. She stopped flying, let go of her weight, and fell straight down, freeing herself from the flock and entering the forest. She slowed her descent, calming her nerves. In the safety of the treetops, the noise lessened, muffled by the pines. The black cloud of birds lifted higher and drifted away.

Sweat beaded her brow. Relief washed over her. Honora found a clearing with room to set down. She pulled up her goggles and wiped her face with the back of her arm. Her breath billowed from her lips in a cold plume of smoke. The ground was a thick carpet of pine needles and moss, giving it a spongy feeling under her feet. Wary of being on the ground, a mix of trepidation and exhaustion filled her. Barnaby flew to her and perched on a tall tree limb. Ren must have tracked her, because in a few minutes he pulled up next to her.

“What was that?”

Ren dismounted his snowcraft. “I told you the wildlife was robust. Our black crows are very territorial.” His gaze drifted slowly over her body. “You don’t look too banged up.”

“Robust? Try completely mad. I get the feeling they don’t like witches flying in their sky.” Honora eyed the disappearing birds in the distance with a shudder. “Good riddance.”

Honora and Ren got their bearings and assessed their location. After a few moments, she spread the map out on the seat of his craft and scanned the grid. The drudgery of doing a search began. It took all day to make a sweep of the area, and by evening they had found nothing useful, even with Ren’s tracking magic. They didn’t find the wall, the station, or any sign of the Woodsman or his guardian. In fact, they only stumbled upon a few loggers, a lone fox, and a group of sap-tappers, as Ren called them, who were out tapping some trees for the golden honey elixir to make syrups and sugared goods to sell in the surrounding towns and down in the city.

As the sky darkened, a terrible feeling crept over her—what if she’d been wrong and all of this had been for nothing? She was running out of time.

“We have two choices—travel back to Rawlands now or move on to the next location, make camp, and stay the night. That way we get an early day tomorrow on the search.” Ren leaned against his snowcraft. His goggles had left a mark around his eyes like a cute raccoon mask.

Honora suppressed a smile, but the guide was seriously getting on her good side. Not only had he kept up with her all day, but he also pushed her to keep going and did a great job of scouting. She prided herself on being a hard worker, but finally she’d met her match.

“We stay. I don’t want to lose time traveling back out here tomorrow. We can set up camp and get an early start in the morning.” She tried not to sound too frustrated. They’d had a good day, searched a large area, and after the bird incident, didn’t have any run-ins with the
robust
wildlife. It was a win even if it didn’t feel like one.

Honora gave Ren some room so he could work his tracking magic. He bent down on one knee and felt the ground with his bare hand. Within seconds his skin glowed and thin white lines raced up the back of his hand. His eyes shimmered as he looked off in the distance. He stood, practically in a trance. “This way,” he said and Honora followed him a short distance to a clearing with good cover. It was the perfect place. When he turned back to her his eyes had returned to normal.

“Like it?” he asked. “No quiet home, but it will be a safe spot.”

“Looks great to me. That
persuasion
of yours sure comes in handy.” Honora smiled in admiration and pulled off her pack.

Honora and Ren moved a few fallen tree limbs, making a clearing. Then he pulled a felt bag from his jacket. From inside, he fished out a collection of strange flat stones with points on both ends and dropped them onto the hard-packed snow.

“What’s up with the arrowheads?” She leaned in, her curiosity piqued.

“Firestones,” he said, arranging them in a loose circle.

“Not elemental magic, I hope.” She had a flashback to a run-in she’d had with a Hexer and some outlawed fireballs a few months back. Not the kind of destructive magic she wanted to encounter again.

“Earth magic. The stones are spelled to heat until they ignite. No wood needed, yet the fire stays contained and won’t spread beyond the stones.”

Earth magic had a fascinating allure. The stones looked dull and lifeless, until he whispered the spell to activate the magic. Ignited, they glowed orange, heating to a reddish yellow, and then suddenly bursting into flames that flowed into a large bonfire. Warmth enveloped her almost immediately. Honora sighed. The cold had seeped into her bones, and it was a relief to feel the toasty heat across her face.

With a flick of her wand, Honora levitated a few logs out of the woods and positioned them near the fire so they’d have a place to sit and eat dinner. She pulled dried jerky and a pressed nut-and-seed bar from her pack. Not the most delicious meal, but it would keep them going for another day. Ren grabbed a small copper kettle from his snowcraft and boiled hot water over the fire to brew tea. He also provided a dense thick brown bread in the shape of a circle or a puck, depending on how she looked at it. He told her it was a protein-dense carb and to not ask what kind of protein until
after
she’d eaten it. She decided ignorance was bliss and that she didn’t need to know what she was really eating.

Ren studied her face as they ate. “It might help if you tell me who we’re looking for.”

Honora chewed thoughtfully. “All you need to know is that I’m an investigator working on a missing wizard’s case. Simple as that.”

“Why would anyone come here?”

She raised a brow at him. “Today didn’t give you any clues?”

He laughed warmly. “’Cause it’s easy to hide out here in the woods and hard to be found. I was just thinking if it were me and I wanted to disappear, I’d take a pretty flyer to Ghost Beach.” He gave her a flirtatious smile, and she blushed before she could catch herself.

After they finished eating, Ren prepared the sleeping hammocks for the night. He wove a cocoon spell, turning dry pine needles into the softest, strongest thread she’d ever seen. He attached two pale silken cocoons halfway up a tree to sturdy branches to support their weight. Honora crawled inside her cozy bed, and the webbing wrapped around her as if she were a caterpillar curled up in hibernation. Strong arms wrapped around her as Ren tested the strength of her hammock.

“Are you sure you aren’t part spider?” She swallowed, admiring Ren’s magical handiwork.
Handsome, charming, and skilled
, she thought, and tried not to stare like some lovesick witch into his gorgeous eyes. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his face.

“Just making sure you’re not going to fall. I don’t want to lose you.” He attached his own cocoon next to hers and extinguished the firestones.

The temperature dropped as the sun dipped toward the horizon. Her teeth began to chatter, and shivers overwhelmed her. “How about you teach me a warming spell to go with this awesome cocoon?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He handed her a lacquered acorn that looked like the nut had been dipped in gold and attached to a leather cord. “Put that around your neck,” he said, glancing at her chest region with a wry grin.

Ren made a rune mark on the bark of the tree above her head with a sticky white paste. Next he spoke the spell, which sounded ancient and foreign on her tongue when she repeated it after him. The nut warmed beneath her fingers, but it wasn’t too hot to the touch. It was perfect for close quarters like the cocoon and would keep her warm and snug all night. She curled up in her glorious spider bedding, folding the flap of silk over her face. She couldn’t think of a better camping spot as she drifted off to sleep. “Good night, Ren,” she said through the fabric, their bodies pressed against each other in comforting closeness.

“No problem,” he said. “Sorry we didn’t find your wizard. Tomorrow’s the day. I can feel it.”

 

Honora woke to a heavy feeling. Something was resting on top of her cocoon, pushing against her like a suffocating blanket. She panicked and thrashed until her arms and head were free from the fibers. Cold smacked her in the face. “What is it? What’s going on?” she yelled as icy powder ended up in her mouth and nose. She yanked off her glove and wiped her face, which was now wet and tingly.

“It’s called snow. And it won’t bite you.” Ren’s laugh was warm. He was already out of his cocoon, perched on a branch next to her.

Honora glanced around, waking up to a whole new world around her. A blush of embarrassment formed on her cheeks, and she hoped he didn’t notice. The forest was covered in shimmering white, glazed in a sparkle of snow and ice. She sat for a moment in awe on her branch. “I wasn’t expecting to wake up in a winter wonderland,” she said. “Did you have this little bombshell up your sleeve?”

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