Gunmetal Magic: A Novel in the World of Kate Daniels

Gainesville, turning it into an isolated town, like a small island in a sea of trees.
    Kate was riding a dark, nasty-looking gray roan that looked like it couldn’t wait to stomp something to death.
    “So, do you miss Marygold?”
    Marygold used to be her Order mule.
    “My aunt killed her,” Kate said.
    Crap. “I’m so sorry.” She had really loved that mule.
    Ahead, the top of the largest rock pile shifted. A thick humanoid body pushed from the crest. Its head was wide and equipped with dinosaur jaws armed with narrow teeth. Gray scales shielded its body, protruding from the flesh as if the creature had rolled in gravel. Long strands of emerald-green moss dripped from its back and shoulders. The sun tore through the clouds. A stray ray caught the creature’s side and the beast sparkled as if dipped in diamond dust.
    “What the hell is that?”
    “That’s a
landvættir
,” Kate said. “They’re land spirits that pop up around neo-Norse settlements. He won’t bother us unless we turn off the path.”
    We rode past the creature.
    Raphael urged his horse forward and rode up between thetwo of us. “Anapa. Powerful enough to snatch a child from the Keep.”
    “Yes?” I murmured.
    “And this is really important to him?”
    “Yes?”
    “Why doesn’t he do it himself?” Raphael grimaced. “Why doesn’t he help us? Why keep the Pack out of it?”
    I had asked myself these same questions before, so I told him the only answer I could come up with. “I don’t know.”
    He glanced at Kate. She shrugged. “Beats me.”
    “I asked your volhv,” Raphael said to me.
    My volhv, huh?
“And what did the Russian sugar bear tell you?”
    Kate made a strangled noise. Raphael clenched his jaw, then unclenched it.
    “He said that Anapa is a god and gods are weird. What kind of a demented answer is that? Isn’t he supposed to be some sort of expert on this whole thing, which is why we’re bringing him along?”
    Gods are vicious, selfish assholes. I shrugged. “Roman is an expert and he gave you his expert opinion. Gods are weird.”
    “I can hear you,” Roman called from behind us. “I’m not deaf.”
    Raphael shook his head and dropped back.
    Anapa wasn’t just weird. No, he had a plan. And all his good humor and funny smiles were calculated. They masked his true essence the way soft fur covered a cat’s claws. And I would keep his plan to myself. If I told Raphael, he would do something rash to save me. If I told it to Kate, she would worry and try to fix it. There was no way to fix it. It was what it was.
    The road turned, forking into two paths ahead. The larger road, marked by an old birch, curved up the hill. The smaller, less traveled path veered right, into some woods.
    A man walked out from behind the tree and barred the path. Six and a half feet tall and hulking, he resembled a man-sized tank draped in chain mail. He wore a dramatic cloak of black fur and a polished war helm and carried an enormous single axe on a long wooden handle.
    “Good to see you again, Gunnar,” Kate said. “We’re going to the glade.”
    The bottom half of Gunnar’s face paled. “Again?”
    Kate nodded.
    “You’ve been once. You can’t go again.”
    “I’ve got no choice.”
    Gunnar rubbed his face. “He’s got your scent now. You know what happens to people who go to see him twice.”
    “I know. I still have to go.”
    He shook his head and stepped aside. “It’s been nice knowing you.”
    Kate touched the reins and our small procession rolled on.
    “What exactly happens to the people who go to see him twice?” I asked.
    “He eats them,” Kate said.
    The old road narrowed, slicing its way into the forest. Tall trees crowded the road, as if protesting its intrusion in their midst. The air smelled of forest: pine sap, the earthy odor of moist soil, the faint harshness of bobcat mark somewhere to the left, and the slightly oily squirrel musk. A bluish fog hung between the trees, obscuring the ground. Spooky.
    We came to a stone arch made by tall pillars of gray stone, bound together by vines.
    Kate hopped off her horse. “We hoof it now. Raphael, will you take the deer?”
    “Sure.”
    I took the tripod framework out of the cart and pulled it apart into a mount, sighting the path past the pillars. I planted the tripod into the ground and took my huge crossbow off the cart. Dark letters ran along the stock of the bow: THUNDERHAWK .
    “This is new,” Kate said.
    I snapped the crossbow into the top