The Rabbit and the Raven: Book Two in the Solas Beir Trilogy (2 page)

There was a reason he was her best friend.
Sure, he can be really irritating at times, but he’s always there when it counts,
she thought.
And now that Tynan Tierney, the man who called himself the Kruor um Beir, the King of Blood and Shadows, had escaped from his desert prison in another dimension, Abby needed Jon more than ever. It was supposed to be impossible to escape the Wasteland, with its endless dunes of scarlet sand.
Apparently it’s not.

Abby heard the sound of metal sliding against metal and glanced over to see Jon drawing his sword from the silver scabbard hanging from his belt.

Gingerly, he ran his fingers along the length of the blade. “Yep, she’s gonna skin me alive,” he muttered to himself.

If Abby hadn’t been mentally preparing for battle, she would have thought Jon’s fears about going home almost funny. Never mind legions of bloodthirsty cat goblins; he was worried about how his mom would react to his disappearing act.

It had been little more than twenty-four hours since they left home, but considering everything that had happened, it felt like they had been in the kingdom of Cai Terenmare for much longer. Their going missing for an entire night and into the next one would be killing their parents, even though Abby and Jon had some pretty compelling reasons for being gone. Abby knew how her mother would react. She would be worried sick until Abby came home, and then she would be steaming mad.

She’d say, “Why didn’t you at least call?”

Well, Mom, funny thing: cell phones don’t really get signals in a parallel dimension.

“And what—you couldn’t pick up the phone before you left?”

Yeah, we were kinda busy trying not to be eaten. Sorry.

Abby thought things might be worse for Jon though. For all his bravado about being this mischievous boy who could charm his way out of anything, he and his mother were really close, and he hated to disappoint her. His father had never been part of the picture, and even though Abby’s dad had tried to fill the void, stepping up as a father figure to the son of his wife’s best friend, it was Jonathon and Blanca Reyes against the world. Except, of course, when it was Jonathon Reyes and Abigail Brown against the world. When Jon was on your side, he was for you completely. Abby loved that about him.

Right now, Jon was sitting on a bench in the armory, inspecting his sword, holding it out to test its weight, but Abby knew what he was really doing was waiting for her. Jon knew his best friend well enough to know that she needed space from time to time. He had learned not to push Abby’s need for reflection before any battle, whether it was the impending doom of a math test or slaying a demonic shape-shifting beast intent on devouring your soul. Her sense of humor always returned eventually.

And so it did—Abby tried to make amends for her grumpiness by drawing her sword and play-hitting his, bringing Jon out of his own reverie.

He rose to his feet. “Hey there—watch it! What are you doing?”

“Sparring,” Abby smiled. “We need a little practice if we’re going back out there.”

“A
little
?” Jon asked, raising his eyebrows. “Looks like you need more than a little.”

“Oh really?” Her sword clanged against his as she swung at him again. “I can take you down.”

He laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so. And don’t be starting something you can’t finish, Abigail.”

Abby wrinkled her nose. Jon always called her Abigail when he wanted to annoy her. “Who says I can’t?” she asked.

“All right then. Have it your way.” Smiling impishly, Jon grabbed Abby’s belt and pulled her closer, growling, “C’mere, me lusty beauty…”

Giggling, Abby twisted away from his grasp and hit his sword again.
She leapt back and readied for another strike. Then she stopped. “Wait—are you speaking
pirate
?”

The devilish grin on his face faded. He lowered his sword midswing and looked at her. “Maybe. What if I was?”

She burst out laughing. “Ooooh, you are such
a nerd.”

Jon pouted as if he were wounded. “I’m a nerd? This from the girl who framed her zombie apocalypse survival plan
and
who hoards toilet paper, just in case.” This last part he punctuated with a grin and another playful clang of his sword.

Standing in the armory’s doorway, David watched
as Abby and Jon sparred. It was definitely more a battle of wit than skill. “You two know how to use those?”

“Not a clue,” Abby said, slashing the air in front of her a bit too cheerfully, considering her weapon was sharp enough to slice her fingers off.

“I watch samurai movies a lot,” offered Jon. “Does that help?”

David laughed. “Not in the least.” He eyed Abby in her tightly fitted black leather leggings and billowy cerulean tunic, which was cinched at the waist with her belt. He wondered if she had any idea what that shade of blue did to her eyes. She must have, just like she had to know the effect those eyes of hers had on him. “You look pretty cute like that, you know.”

“Awww, thanks Corbin. That’s what I was going for,” quipped Jon.

David rolled his eyes. “Adorable, Reyes. Is he always this precious?”

Abby laughed. “Only when he’s awake. So when you say cute—you mean menacing, right?” Abby held out her sword, trying her best to look intimidating.

“Oh yes. Very femme fatale.” David sidestepped the sword and put his hands around Abby’s waist, drawing her close. A stray curl fell forward into her face and he gently pushed it aside, stroking her forehead and cheek as he tucked it behind her ear. He felt the increasingly familiar prickle of electricity as he touched her skin. He wondered if she felt something similar, because she lowered her sword, disarmed.

As David moved in closer to kiss Abby, Jon turned away, suddenly feeling the need to look anywhere else. He pretended to be interested in inspecting the objects on sturdy iron hooks lining the wall. There was a fascinating array of weaponry, as well as armor made of surprisingly tough leather designed to protect the neck, chest, abdomen, and thighs. He took down a breastplate. It was lighter than he had imagined it would be, but stronger than leather from his world; it seemed almost as impenetrable as steel. He put it back on the hook, killing time to avoid an awkward glimpse of the happy couple. If he could have teleported himself into the next room, he would have.

It wasn’t that he was jealous—he’d given his blessing to the whole Abby and David thing, after all. True, he and Abby had some history together—after an attempt at dating two years prior, they had concluded that they were better off staying best friends. Or at least Abby had; he might have been willing to give it another shot, but he wasn’t willing to risk pushing her away by pursuing her. And she was obviously smitten with David Corbin.

Abby and David had been pretty much inseparable after all that had happened, and Jon had to admit that Abby looked happier with David than she had ever been with him, even if that stung his heart and his pride. For Abby, he was willing to make friends with the guy. Abby would always be special to him, even if she was with someone else.

He thought about
his
potential someone else—Marisol Cassidy. Not only was she gorgeous, but she was smart and funny too. He was surprised at how easy it was to talk to her. When they had first met, he assumed that a beautiful girl like her would never, ever give a guy like him a chance, especially since she was from such a wealthy Newcastle Beach family. Sure, he was intelligent and—in his own humble opinion—a fairly witty, good-looking guy. But at the end of the day, he was still just the working-class lifeguard at a fancy country club. Not that any of that would have stopped him from taking the chance. Rejection wasn’t nearly as scary as never taking a risk.

And it seemed to have paid off. He and Marisol had spent several memorable hours together at the Autumn Ball. That was before the night all hell broke loose and Jon, Abby, David, and the Buchan family fled into Cai Terenmare, running from the Shadows. He wondered if Marisol had enjoyed their evening together as much as he had—if she was thinking about him as much as he was thinking about her. He hoped she was okay, that nothing bad had happened while he was in this world. He hoped he would get to see her again.

Suddenly, Jon felt very anxious to get going—to get home, make sure his mom was safe, and call Marisol. He turned back to Abby and David.

No, it isn’t jealousy,
he decided. It was that their relationship was so new and yet they already seemed so connected. David seemed to be able to reach Abby in a way that no one else could. And…they were getting a little freer with those public displays of affection. Jon felt like the proverbial third wheel. He cleared his throat.

Abby pulled away from David, her cheeks a little red. “Sorry, Jon.” She turned and stood with her back to David.

He wrapped his arms around her, not exactly looking repentant, but not quite as intimately entwined with Abby either.

“Not to interrupt, but it’s just a little bit awkward over here…” Jon inspected his sword, testing the sharpness of the blade before braving a look in their direction. “And not to rush, but shouldn’t we be getting home?”

“Yes,” David replied. “That’s actually why I came down here in the first place. Then I got distracted.” He smiled at Abby, a devious look in his pale blue eyes. “I talked with Cael about going back.”

“What did he say?” Abby asked.

“He didn’t like the idea,” David answered. “If Tierney is free, he could be anywhere—here in Cai Terenmare or in your world. Odds are, he’ll be in yours, somewhere in Santa Linda. After that much time in prison, the first thing he will want to do is feed, and he’ll be looking for easy prey.”

Jon shuddered. If Calder was as big and ruthless as a mad bull, what would Tierney be like? And how many people would die before his hunger was satisfied? He sheathed his sword angrily. “Well, if that’s the case, all the more reason we need to get back. Our families are sitting ducks. I don’t care what Cael says, I’m going.”

“Hold on—I’m not done.” David put his hand on Jon’s shoulder to keep him from marching out the door. “I said he didn’t like the idea. I didn’t say we couldn’t go back. Yes, Cael advised against it, but he said that if we insisted on going, he would accompany us. Oh, and he also mentioned we would be fools to go without learning any combat skills, and that we should at least strap on some armor if we were hell-bent on meeting our deaths. I’ve kind of paraphrased it a bit, but you get the idea. There was some cursing involved.” David pulled down armor for Abby and helped her put it on.

“Touché.” Jon pulled down a chest plate for himself, fastening it over the armor he was already wearing. After their last encounter with the Shadows, Jon saw no need to offer himself up on a platter.

Marisol Cassidy had the distinct feeling she was being watched. She couldn’t explain it, but she was definitely getting creeped out, and the feeling was growing by the minute. She felt silly and paranoid. She was supposed to be having a good time.

She looked around at her friends, sitting on driftwood logs around the bonfire on the beach. The usual gang was present: a mixed group of guys and girls, mostly seniors with a smattering of the more popular juniors from Marisol’s affluent, private high school. It was a beautiful November night. After the hard rain the night before, the skies were clear and the moon was bright. It was the kind of full moon that was a warm yellow, almost orange, and it seemed larger than usual, lighting the night like the sphere of a giant Chinese paper lantern.

“Beer?”

Marisol startled when Tyler flopped down on the sand next to her, offering her a brown glass bottle, retrieved from the cooler he’d brought. Ty was a surfer and looked every bit the part, with an easy smile; lean, muscular body; and devil-may-care shaggy blond hair falling into his eyes.

Marisol shook her head. “No thanks.” She forced a smile. “Not tonight.”

“No worries,” Ty smiled, and took a swig from his own beer. “Can’t believe our senior year is almost halfway over.”

She laughed. “Yeah, it’s crazy. Time flies.”

Ty nodded. “It’s kinda sad. Have to make the most of the time we have left, you know?”

Marisol forced another smile. Although she outwardly shared her friend’s sentiment that the end of their high school career was a great tragedy, secretly she was glad. She was tired—tired of high school, but mostly tired of the games.

Tyler scooted up onto the driftwood log to sit closer to Marisol. The smell of beer on his breath was almost masked by his cologne, which he’d apparently laid on heavier than usual. Marisol couldn’t quite identify which brand it was, Drakkar Noir possibly, but whatever it was, he seemed to have bathed in it. Her nose began to itch and she fought back a sneeze.

Tyler took another long drink, put his hand on her leg, and looked at her meaningfully. “You know, we could…”

Marisol didn’t let him finish. She shook her head. “Like I said, no thanks. Not tonight.”

“I wish you would not go,” Eulalia said to Cael. After David had gone to speak with his friends, the queen had pulled Cael into her chamber and closed the door.