The Rising (The Rising #4) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,53

work. Powerful spells cast. Powerful rituals held,” Jellan dissembled. “For instance, the rituals conducted to awaken you caused more than a tremor of the earth. It was felt in the veil.”

“Hmm,” Daemon hummed, then queried, “Do they know I have ascended?”

Jellan shook his head, his reaction honest this time.

“I don’t know. Though, I would assume if they had, we would not have been unmolested as we have been since you made the surface.”

Daemon appeared also to be thinking hard on that.

But Marian was watching him closely and Jellan’s heart beat hard in his chest for he sensed she knew he was not being completely forthcoming.

He felt certain she’d expose him and was utterly stunned when she did not.

Instead, she looked forward and stated, “He might be right. Perhaps we should know what’s happening in the realms. Understand these messages of the veil.”

Jellan was not sure the decision he was making was the right one. He did not know if he could gain the trust, and control, over the Beast to do his bidding, not Marian’s, not Daemon’s own. It did not seem in the now he could, though it did seem he was useful to the creature, if not useful to Marian.

But he did not feel he had firm footing in their little trinity.

Thus, he decided not to tell them the lovers had united in one place.

And they were not only together, something in and of itself that increased their strength.

They were lovers.

The prophecy had been completed. They were at full force. Their power was disrupting the veil, regularly, mightily.

It wasn’t just powerful witches dying (although he sensed that was also happening, and he was keen to know why this was occurring so often), it was more.

Much more.

He feared what either one of them would do if he held this information from them, only to share it at a later date.

But if he could not gain control over Daemon, set him to do Jellan’s bidding, not his own, definitely not Marian’s, it would be essential that those prophesied remained at the height of their strength.

And that those powers grew.

Because if he could not control the Beast, someone had to eradicate it.

In the meantime, he had to find a way to ingratiate himself with the creature.

He had to find a way to lessen Marian’s hold over him.

And he had to discover what this “work” was that Daemon wished to do.

Thus, he had to have information. He had to know what was happening in the realms. He had to have time.

He had to plan.

He had his own work to do.

And in the now that work meant he was allied with Marian in one thing…

He had to delay.

134

The Finding

Teddy

Westernmost Lesser Thicket Forest

WODELL

“I think we’re far enough away, we can seek a road,” he said to Moira.

“I think we need to continue to be cautious,” she replied.

He shifted closer to her. “Moira, as I’ve said, we have much more of a chance of running into someone who can help if we travel the road.”

“Yes, and they know we’ve escaped,” she returned. “They were very intent on what they were doing, Teddy. They could be seeking us, and they can also find us on the road.”

She was frightened, as were all the women, and they had reason. He understood this.

Thus, he held tight to his patience, something he was learning well to do these past days.

“We have passed many a farmstead where we could have stopped and asked for succor,” he reminded her, still uncomfortable that they had, indeed, stopped, but not to ask for succor.

To take it.

They were now thieves.

Of course they would not have eaten in this past week if they had not stolen a cooling bread loaf from a window sill, several jars of preserves and pickles from a canning locker, a bag of shelled pecans left on a back stoop after the sheller was called away from their task, and a slab of cured ham from a meat stall.

But need was no excuse.

By his estimation they were still a three to four week walk away from Notting Thicket.

At least.

Not taking the road was adding to that and who knew what that creature had been up to in the meantime.

They needed to run into somebody.

They needed a conveyance.

They needed to be at Birchlire Castle three days ago.

“What do you think?”

Moira’s question brought him back to their conversation, and when it did, he saw she was asking the women.

They had, over the days, created a democratic way of going about their business. Although