Cold Days
Page 137
Firelight eyes stared at me from all around and nothing stirred.
Then Kringle's chuckle began rumbling up out of his throat, a pulsating sound of deep and hearty mirth. One of his huge hands closed on mine, and I hauled him back to his feet. I glanced over at the Erlking as I did. I could see nothing of his face, but he nodded his head toward me, very slightly. There was something ironic about the way he did it, and I sensed a kind of quiet amusement.
There was a low rumble as the Harley came purring slowly over the ground toward us. Karrin stared at the scene, her eyes wide, and drew the bike to a stop next to me.
"Harry?" she asked. "What just happened?"
"A change of leadership," I said, and swung one leg over the Harley to hop up behind her. Even as I did, shadows began to whirl and slither. They crawled up Kringle's legs, restoring the concealing mask-and as they did, they also started climbing the Harley and both of the people sitting on it.
It was a bizarre sensation. Everything about my physical perception sharpened, and I could suddenly sense the world around me with perfect clarity. I could feel the other members of the Hunt, knew exactly where they were and what they were doing on sheer instinct-an instinct that guided them, as well. The night brightened into a silvery fairyland that remained night while being as bright as the noonday sun. The shadow masks became something translucent, so that if I peered closely enough, I could see what was behind it. I didn't do much peering. I had a feeling that I didn't want to know what was behind all of those shadows.
Karrin twisted the throttle on the Harley nervously, gunning the engine-but instead of a roar, it came out as a primal screech. The cry was instantly taken up by every single member of the Hunt, even as Kringle, his shadow mask restored, remounted his steed and whirled it to face me.
"Sir Knight," Kringle said, inclining his head slightly to me, "what game amuses you this fine, stormy evening?"
I started loading shells from the ammo belt into the Winchester, until the rifle was full again. Then I levered a shell into the pipe, slipped a replacement into the tube, shut the breach with a snap, and felt a wolfish smile spreading my mouth. "Tonight?" I asked. I raised my voice to address them all. "Tonight we hunt Outsiders!"
The bloodthirsty screech that went up from the Wild Hunt was deafening.
Chapter Forty-two
"Pipe down!" I shouted. "We're going quiet until we get there!"
The Hunt settled down, though not instantly. Karrin revved the Harley's engine, and it was completely, entirely silent. I could feel the vibration of the increased revolutions, but they did not translate into sound. The shadows around the Harley shifted and wavered, and after a second I realized that they had taken on a shape-that of an enormous black cat, muscled and solid, like a jaguar. That wasastounding to me. Magic was not some kind of partially sentient force that did things of its own volition. It wasn't any more artistic than electricity.
"Okay," I said to Karrin. "Let's move."
"Uh," she asked, without turning her head, "move where?"
"The island," I said.
"Harry, this is a motorcycle."
"It'll work," I said. "Look at it."
Karrin jerked as she noted the appearance of the Harley. "You want me to drive into the lake."
"You have to admit," I said, "it isn't the craziest thing I've ever asked you to do. It isn't even the craziest thing I've asked you to do tonight."
Karrin thought about that one for a second and said, "You're right. Let's go."
She dropped the Harley into gear, threw out a rooster tail of dirt and gravel, and we rushed toward the shore of the lake. The steel mills had been engaged in actual shipping traffic in their day, and the level field of construction marched right up to the water's edge and dropped off abruptly, the water four or five feet straight down.
Karrin gunned the engine, covering the last two hundred yards in a flat-out sprint, and the torque on that Harley's engine was something epic, its bellow too loud to be wholly contained by the shadow mask, emerging from the shadow tiger's mouth as a deep-throated roar. Karrin let out a scream that was two parts excitement to one part terror, and we flew twenty feet before the tires crashed down onto the surface of the lake-and held.
The bike jounced a couple of times, but I held on to Karrin and kept from flying off. It was an interesting question, though: If I had, would the water have supported me, like an endless field of asphalt? Or would it have behaved as it normally would?
The entire Hunt swept along behind us, silent but for the low thunder of hooves and the panting of the hounds-when suddenly the silver starlight turned bright azure blue.
"Whoa!" Karrin said. "Did you do that?"
"I don't think so," I said. I looked over my shoulder and found Kringle and the Erlking riding along behind me, I jerked my head at them in a beckoning gesture, and they obligingly came up on either side of the Harleytiger.
"What is that?" I asked, pointing at the sky.
"A temporal pressure wave," the Erlking said, his flaming eyes narrowed.
"A wha'?" I asked.
The Erlking looked at Kringle. "This is your area of expertise. Explain it."
"Someone is bending time against us," Kringle said.
I stared at him for a second and then it clicked. "We're being rushed forward so that we'll get there too late," I said. "We're looking at a Doppler shift."
Then Kringle's chuckle began rumbling up out of his throat, a pulsating sound of deep and hearty mirth. One of his huge hands closed on mine, and I hauled him back to his feet. I glanced over at the Erlking as I did. I could see nothing of his face, but he nodded his head toward me, very slightly. There was something ironic about the way he did it, and I sensed a kind of quiet amusement.
There was a low rumble as the Harley came purring slowly over the ground toward us. Karrin stared at the scene, her eyes wide, and drew the bike to a stop next to me.
"Harry?" she asked. "What just happened?"
"A change of leadership," I said, and swung one leg over the Harley to hop up behind her. Even as I did, shadows began to whirl and slither. They crawled up Kringle's legs, restoring the concealing mask-and as they did, they also started climbing the Harley and both of the people sitting on it.
It was a bizarre sensation. Everything about my physical perception sharpened, and I could suddenly sense the world around me with perfect clarity. I could feel the other members of the Hunt, knew exactly where they were and what they were doing on sheer instinct-an instinct that guided them, as well. The night brightened into a silvery fairyland that remained night while being as bright as the noonday sun. The shadow masks became something translucent, so that if I peered closely enough, I could see what was behind it. I didn't do much peering. I had a feeling that I didn't want to know what was behind all of those shadows.
Karrin twisted the throttle on the Harley nervously, gunning the engine-but instead of a roar, it came out as a primal screech. The cry was instantly taken up by every single member of the Hunt, even as Kringle, his shadow mask restored, remounted his steed and whirled it to face me.
"Sir Knight," Kringle said, inclining his head slightly to me, "what game amuses you this fine, stormy evening?"
I started loading shells from the ammo belt into the Winchester, until the rifle was full again. Then I levered a shell into the pipe, slipped a replacement into the tube, shut the breach with a snap, and felt a wolfish smile spreading my mouth. "Tonight?" I asked. I raised my voice to address them all. "Tonight we hunt Outsiders!"
The bloodthirsty screech that went up from the Wild Hunt was deafening.
Chapter Forty-two
"Pipe down!" I shouted. "We're going quiet until we get there!"
The Hunt settled down, though not instantly. Karrin revved the Harley's engine, and it was completely, entirely silent. I could feel the vibration of the increased revolutions, but they did not translate into sound. The shadows around the Harley shifted and wavered, and after a second I realized that they had taken on a shape-that of an enormous black cat, muscled and solid, like a jaguar. That wasastounding to me. Magic was not some kind of partially sentient force that did things of its own volition. It wasn't any more artistic than electricity.
"Okay," I said to Karrin. "Let's move."
"Uh," she asked, without turning her head, "move where?"
"The island," I said.
"Harry, this is a motorcycle."
"It'll work," I said. "Look at it."
Karrin jerked as she noted the appearance of the Harley. "You want me to drive into the lake."
"You have to admit," I said, "it isn't the craziest thing I've ever asked you to do. It isn't even the craziest thing I've asked you to do tonight."
Karrin thought about that one for a second and said, "You're right. Let's go."
She dropped the Harley into gear, threw out a rooster tail of dirt and gravel, and we rushed toward the shore of the lake. The steel mills had been engaged in actual shipping traffic in their day, and the level field of construction marched right up to the water's edge and dropped off abruptly, the water four or five feet straight down.
Karrin gunned the engine, covering the last two hundred yards in a flat-out sprint, and the torque on that Harley's engine was something epic, its bellow too loud to be wholly contained by the shadow mask, emerging from the shadow tiger's mouth as a deep-throated roar. Karrin let out a scream that was two parts excitement to one part terror, and we flew twenty feet before the tires crashed down onto the surface of the lake-and held.
The bike jounced a couple of times, but I held on to Karrin and kept from flying off. It was an interesting question, though: If I had, would the water have supported me, like an endless field of asphalt? Or would it have behaved as it normally would?
The entire Hunt swept along behind us, silent but for the low thunder of hooves and the panting of the hounds-when suddenly the silver starlight turned bright azure blue.
"Whoa!" Karrin said. "Did you do that?"
"I don't think so," I said. I looked over my shoulder and found Kringle and the Erlking riding along behind me, I jerked my head at them in a beckoning gesture, and they obligingly came up on either side of the Harleytiger.
"What is that?" I asked, pointing at the sky.
"A temporal pressure wave," the Erlking said, his flaming eyes narrowed.
"A wha'?" I asked.
The Erlking looked at Kringle. "This is your area of expertise. Explain it."
"Someone is bending time against us," Kringle said.
I stared at him for a second and then it clicked. "We're being rushed forward so that we'll get there too late," I said. "We're looking at a Doppler shift."
