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Cold Days (The Dresden Files #14) Page 114
Author: Jim Butcher

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 was astounding 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."

"Is what he said correct?" the Erlking asked Kringle curiously.

"Essentially, aye. We've already lost half of an hour by my count."

"Who could have done this?" I asked.

"You have encountered this before, wizard," Kringle said. "Can you not guess?"

"One of the Queens," I muttered. "Or someone operating on their level. Can we get out of this wave?"

The Erlking and Kringle traded a look. "You are the leader of the Hunt," Kringle said. "What you wright with your power will grace each of us. Would you like to do it?"

Was he kidding me? I had almost as much of an idea of how to screw around with the fabric of time as I did which of my clothes could be safely washed in hot water. "I probably need to save myself for what's coming," I said.

Kringle nodded. "If it is your will," he said diffidently, "we can set our hands against it."

"Do it," I said.

They both nodded their heads at me in small bows, and then their steeds raced out in front of the pack. Sparks began to fly from their horses' hooves, first blue, then abruptly darkening to scarlet. The air seemed to shimmer, and strange, twisted sounds writhed all around us. Then there was a reverberating crash that sounded like something between thunder and the discharge of a blaster. The air split in front of the two of them like a curtain, and as the Hunt hurtled through it, the stars washed out to their normal silver hue again.

"Well-done, I guess!" I shouted-and then I noticed that Kringle was no longer there, though the Erlking still raced along. Over the next few moments he slowed enough to pace Karrin and me. "Hey, where'd Bowl-Full-of-Jelly go?"

"Kringle was our stepping-stone out of the rapids of the stream," he called back. "To lift us out, he had to remain behind. He will rejoin us farther down the shore."

"Harry," Karrin said.

"How much farther down the shore?"

The Erlking shrugged with his uninjured arm. "Time may hold no terror for us immortals, Sir Knight, but it is a massive force, all but beyond even our control. It will take as long as it takes."

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Jim Butcher's Novels
» Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)
» Captain's Fury (Codex Alera #4)
» First Lord's Fury (Codex Alera #6)
» Storm Front (The Dresden Files #1)
» Fool Moon (The Dresden Files #2)
» Grave Peril (The Dresden Files #3)
» Summer Knight (The Dresden Files #4)
» Dead Beat (The Dresden Files #7)
» Death Masks (The Dresden Files #5)
» Proven Guilty (The Dresden Files #8)
» White Night (The Dresden Files #9)
» Small Favor (The Dresden Files #10)
» Turn Coat (The Dresden Files #11)
» Ghost Story (The Dresden Files #13)
» Cold Days (The Dresden Files #14)