The Summoning (Custodes Noctis)

  The Summoning

  A Custodes Noctis Novella

  By

  Muffy Morrigan

  © 2011 Muffy Morrigan

  Published By

  Three Ravens Books

  Dedication

  This is dedicated with all my love and thanks to my readers

  for embracing the Emrys Clan with such devotion.

  A special thank you to those who have read this in every stage possible

  as it evolved and who commented and made it what it is today.

  And to Georgina Gibson for the stunning cover art.

  One

  Galen

  The sun was shining through the windows, catching the massive quartz crystal that stood in one corner and casting a rainbow across the room in a sparkling arc of light. The warmth intensified the scents of the many herbs, oils and candles in the shop, and it all blended together creating an atmosphere that was both welcoming and comforting. There were other, hidden, things that offered a sense of protection that was very real, an invisible wall that kept unwanted things outside.

  Galen Emrys watched the coffee stand across the street. His brother, Rob, was over getting their second round of coffees for the day. They had a coffeemaker of their own, but they both preferred the coffee from the stand, and Rob had an ulterior motive. He and the owner of Hot Babes Coffee were tentatively starting a relationship. Becci was all for it, and Galen agreed with her, but after the disturbing events of the past winter, Rob had withdrawn into himself.

  The lingering aftermath of the attack by the feorhbealu were at the root of it, Galen knew. His brother was normally reserved, but not withdrawn. As Custodes Noctis, Keepers of the Night, they shared a psychic bond that allowed them to sense the other, communicate silently and survive wounds that would otherwise kill them. Individually, they had Gifts as well, Galen as the elder brother was Gifted with healing, Rob with the Sight, allowing him to see things beyond the everyday world—the supernatural world, the auras of every living thing, Galen even suspected his brother had a Gift for seeing the past and future, although they had never spoken of it.

  Or so it should have been.

  During the final battle with the feorhbealu, their leader had targeted Rob and stripped him of his Gifts in an attempt to stop the Custodes Noctis and the riders of the Hunt from finishing the fight. It hadn't worked—at least not as they planned. The Hunt was victorious, and the feorhbealu were driven back through the Veil, the invisible wall between worlds.

  Rob had been gravely injured, and while Galen had dealt with most of the physical injuries, he could not heal the wounds done to Rob's Gift. The best he had managed was to keep a small hum of their bond alive, enough to keep them functioning. They had both had the chance to exist without the bond—something that usually resulted in death for Custodes Noctis—during the years Galen had been “dead” after their first encounter with the Old One of the Legacy. That separation was enabling them to survive now.

  They were still efficient fighters. Maybe even more so, without the full Gift to rely on, they were more aware and their skills were honed now to a sharpness Galen had never dreamed they would achieve. Most Custodes Noctis never lived to acquire that level of skill, they were usually killed in battle long before. Even now in the modern age when the things they fought were fewer and far between, Keepers died young.

  They'd had a close call shortly after their ride with the Hunt and the battle with the feorhbealu when Galen has nearly been killed by a drunk driver. He'd been heading home after a gig with his band, The Urban Werewolves, when his Jeep had been side-swiped by a driver that ran a red light. Thankfully, his brother and Becci were in the car behind him; they'd witnessed the accident but escaped injury. In the hours immediately after, however, Galen had been sedated and on life support. Rob had barely held on, Galen still wondered exactly how his brother had managed. They hadn't talked about it. Every time he brought up the accident, Rob flinched, closed down and walked away. His brother was quiet and studious, but since the attack and the accident his brother was completely closed, unwilling to discuss either incident..

  Galen picked up the polishing cloth and pulled off his bracelet—one of the symbols of his rank as Custodes Noctis. The seemingly simple band of copper, bronze and silver was the oldest of all the designs worn by the various families of Keepers. Each member of the Custodes Noctis received their bracelet on their thirteenth birthday when they returned from fosterage to study with their father and uncle as Tradition dictated. Keepers were separated by five years, allowing the elder brother to begin his training his skills as a healer before he went to retrieve his younger brother nine days before his thirteenth birthday. More than just metal, the bracelets were also woven with magic and bound to the wearer. When Rob's had been made, Galen had taken extra pains with it, carefully weaving in protection.

  He looked up, Rob was heading back across the street. Galen put away the cloth—a sure sign he was worrying—and turned to the shelf with herbs, planning on straightening them, only to discover Rob had been there before him. They were arranged in alphabetical order, by Latin name, and he noticed his brother had added the names in several different languages as well. Galen snorted, he really doubted he would have anyone coming in looking for valerian and calling it by its Old Norse name.

  “That better not be more than a quad,” he said as Rob entered the shop.

  “Becci won't sell me anything more than quads. Four shots of espresso at a time, it's all I get.” Rob grinned.

  “What does that mean?”

  “You never said I couldn't have one when I was over there.”

  “So you've already had four?”

  “Uh, well...”

  “So that one makes how many?” Galen sighed. “Your heart is going to explode.”

  “Actually this one makes sixteen. It's better than drinking a couple of pots of coffee.” Rob set the coffees down on the counter. “And I can talk to Becci, it's goth day.”

  “Oh.” Galen smiled. When Becci Anderson had purchased the coffee stand it hadn't done well, until she had hit on the idea of Hot Babes Coffee. After enlisting the help of several like-minded women, they had turned the small stand into one of the most popular coffee stops in Tacoma, which was saying a lot in the coffee-flooded Northwest. While competitors complained it was because of the way they dressed, what made them popular was good coffee and good, fast service. Becci had made enough to open another stand, and Galen was proud of her.

  “Did that order come in yet?” Rob asked.

  “Did you see a truck?” Galen narrowed his eyes. “What's in it?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing like?”

  “Nothing like a 1534 folio of Saxo Grammaticus.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I ordered a new translation too,” Rob added with a grin.

  “So you could mock them?”

  “Me? Mock?”

  “Yes.” Galen couldn't help grinning back. His brother's ability with languages still surprised him. By Galen's count his brother could read at least eighteen languages, ancient and modern, with the same ease most people read the newspaper. He also spoke most of them idiomatically; in fact, when they had first met the Riders of the Hunt, Rob had been able to communicate with them without any magical aid. After that first meeting, Galen had endured his brother's long-winded complaints about one of his history professors and his pronunciation. “Not only will you mock, you will probably write a paper about it.”

  “I only did that once,” Rob said defensively. “And that idiot Robinson had the translation completely wrong. There is a vast difference between a lake and the sea, it changes the whole.
.. Stop grinning at me. He was wrong.”

  “I'm sure he was.” Galen picked up his coffee.

  There were dark circles under his brother's eyes. He knew Rob didn't sleep much, in fact some nights not at all, but there was something else going on. The few hours his brother did manage were being disturbed by something, and without the bond, Galen had no idea what it was. Rob had cried out loud enough to wake him the night before, through closed doors and down the hall. By the time Galen reached his brother's room, Rob was awake, and out of bed. Rob hadn't gone back to sleep, either. The careful arrangement of candles in the storeroom attested to that fact.

  Before he could figure out a way to broach the subject, a harsh croak from the rear entry interrupted him. Galen got up and headed into the back to open the door. Two ravens looked up at him innocently, keys dangling from one beak and part of a windshield wiper from the other. They were the King's Ravens, pledged to serve the King of the Hunt and his Champion. Since their induction into the Hunt, Rob was now King, Galen stood as Champion. The ravens had decided after centuries in the Between World, they wanted to follow Rob and Galen home and “serve” them there. Although Galen suspected they were just bored and looking for a new place to cause mischief. Ravens, by nature, were troublemakers.

  Thousand-plus-year-old, supernatural ravens were at least a thousand times worse. Once they were home, the ravens had told Galen and Rob their names; their long, long names—apparently they added a title and a name for each king they served. After attempting to pronounce the multisyllabic tongue twisters several times, Rob had asked if they could call them Ealdor—meaning elder, and Federa—meaning uncle. The ravens had agreed, even allowing the further shortening to Dor and Dera. Their current favorite pastime was annoying Galen's friend and bandmate, Flash, by dismantling his car and stealing his keys on a regular basis.

  “Oh, Flash is going to be pissed,” Rob said from behind him.

  “He enjoys the game,” Dera's deep bass spoke in Galen's head. He was still getting used to the idea of the birds speaking to him.

  “I really doubt that,” Galen chided. Dera had chosen to serve him as King's Champion whereas Dor preferred, and served Rob, who was King.

  Dor chuckled and fluttered up onto one of the stools, dropping the keys. Dera followed suit and they both looked up expectantly. “I left dinner on the counter,” Rob told them. “Galen tried to put it in the fridge.” He paused while Dor clacked his beak with derision. “He said he might want it for breakfast.” Dera shook his head sadly and made a small croaking sound, then the two of them flew up the stairwell towards the apartment over the shop.

  “I was planning on eating it,” Galen said.

  “The ravens like Thai food.”

  “They like everything, Brat.” Galen headed back into the shop.

  “True, it's all good after the Between World. Dor told me everything tasted the same.” Rob looked up as a customer came in and smiled. “Can I help you?” he asked, putting on his “shop face.”

  The flow of customers was steady through the day. The shop had a wide cross-section of customers and both Galen and Rob were kept busy. In addition to people coming in to purchase tangible items, Galen had a small side business as a healer. His great-great grandfather had been the first Emrys healer in Tacoma, when the town was in its infancy, and the tradition continued. The shop was in the same place, although over the years the offerings had been expanded to include magical and medicinal herbs, jewelry and other, more esoteric, items. After Rob had come home, they had added a small research “library” with books that were not for sale, but that customers could use under his watchful eye.

  Becci stopped in at three with coffee for them, and by the time they were ready to close the door, Galen was exhausted. Three clients had been in that day, and all three had needed more than just a simple healing. Each one took a little more and by closing, all he could do was sit behind the counter and watch Rob balance the till and lock up for the night.

  “You want to go up to Gateway for dinner?” Rob asked, frowning at him.

  “Um...” Galen was having a hard time focusing.

  “Come on.” Rob tugged him off the stool. “A walk will help, it always does.” The Indian restaurant was only a few blocks from the shop. “Let's go.”

  Galen followed his brother out into the warm evening. Since the accident, healing caused a odd and uncomfortable ache in the scar the Old One of the Legacy had left when it had ripped itself out of his chest. He wasn't sure why, there was really no relation to the two, but it was there, throbbing along his sternum. After several deep breaths he felt a little better and by the time they walked into the restaurant he was feeling almost normal.

  The hostess recognized them and waved them towards their usual table towards the back of the room. Galen preferred it because, unless it was crowded, they were far enough away from the other diners so that he didn't get a wash of their emotions while he tried to relax and eat. When he was tired it was harder to block that part of the Gift, while still keeping the remnants of the bond as open as possible.

  “Your damn birds ate my car,” someone said, sliding into the seat across the table from him.

  “I hardly think taking part of the windshield wiper counts as eating the car, Flash,” Rob replied, glancing at the menu.

  “They're a menace,” Flash growled.

  “You tell them.” Rob looked up when the waitress came by and ordered dinner.

  “No fucking way. It's creepy knowing the damn birds can talk to me at all. It still traumatizes me on a daily basis. I'm not starting the damn conversation. Hey, are you okay?” Flash's tone changed as he glanced over at Galen.

  “Yeah, I just had three clients today,” Galen assured him.

  “Three clients is stupid. You know that, ever since...” Flash trailed off. He'd been riding with Rob and Becci the night of the accident.

  “One was an emergency.”

  “I don't care, and as Chief Vassal Guy, I get to say.” Flash had followed them into battle with the Hunt, and as a reward for his “bravery and loyal service in battle” as the Sagas said, Galen and Rob had named him Chief Vassal, a title not bestowed on anyone by a member of the Custodes Noctis for centuries. Flash proudly wore his vassal's bracelet, similar to the bracelets Galen and Rob wore, indicating his fealty to their line.

  “It's okay,” Galen assured him.

  “I doubt it.” Flash glared at him for another moment, then turned his gaze on Rob. “About those damn birds...”

  “I can't tell them anything, they do what they want,” Rob said calmly.

  “You're the king!”

  “And you think that means they'll listen to me?” Rob laughed. “When there's something interesting going on?”

  “Why is the interesting my car?”

  “Probably because you play their game.”

  “I so do not,” Flash grumbled. “Okay, maybe a little, but the windshield wiper is the last straw! They took it apart, I have to get a whole new piece.”

  “We'll pay for it,” Rob offered.

  Galen listened to the interplay, he wasn't sure when he realized it, but something was off in his brother. There was a gray tinge to his skin that was worrying, and the dark circles he'd noticed earlier in the day were more prominent. He tried to force the bond open further, hoping he could get a glimmer of what was happening. As he reached out he encountered a wall, as solid as stone, and for one blinding instant he was sure the wall actually shoved back.

  “Galen?” Flash asked, concern in his voice.

  “Yeah?” He blinked, the restaurant came back into focus. “Sorry.”

  “What happened?”

  Galen was saved from answering when the waitress brought the food. Rob and Flash started up their argument about the ravens again, and Galen tried to get a handle on what he'd caught in that brief contact through the bond. Whatever it was, it had been completely alien to his brother, and he had the strangest sense that it had been intelligent, some
thing lurking deep within Rob that Galen had never seen before. It was something new or he would have sensed it. Prior to their battle with the Hunt, the bond had been strong enough for them to communicate easily, so nothing could have hidden itself. Even though his brother had the unnerving ability to make something “true” or read as true through the bond if he believed what he was doing was right. Galen knew nothing like this could have been lurking. This did not feel right in any way. In fact, Galen had the fleeting impression that Rob might not even be consciously aware of it.

  “You think if I take the damn birds the rest of my food they'll leave my car alone?” Flash's voice broke into his musings.

  “I think if you stopped calling them names it would help,” Rob replied.

  “Bribes always help. Right, Galen?” When Galen didn't answer immediately Flash glanced over at him. “You okay?”

  “What?”

  “Galen?” Rob grabbed his wrist. “What's going on?”

  “Are you okay?” Galen countered, meeting his brother's slate-blue eyes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yeah?” Flash said, looking between the two of them.

  “Rob?”

  His brother sighed, letting out a breath like he'd been holding it for a long, long time. “I don't know, Galen. I think... I think I might be losing my mind.”