A Sacred Magic
Yasmine Galenorn
A Sacred Magic
A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 9
Yasmine Galenorn
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published by Yasmine Galenorn
PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037
A SACRED MAGIC
A Wild Hunt Novel
Copyright © 2019 by Yasmine Galenorn
First Electronic Printing: 2019 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC
First Print Edition: 2019 Nightqueen Enterprises
Cover Art & Design: Ravven
Art Copyright: Yasmine Galenorn
Editor: Elizabeth Flynn
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published in the United States of America
Contents
Acknowledgments
Welcome to A Sacred Magic
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Cast of Characters
Timeline of Series
Playlist
Biography
Acknowledgments
Welcome back into the world of the Wild Hunt. We’re at book nine, and with this book, we return to Ember. This time her adventures take her deep into the heart of Annwn. I love this world, and am so grateful you do too. It’s become a living, breathing entity in my thoughts and imagination.
Thanks to my usual crew: Samwise, my husband, Andria and Jennifer—without their help, I’d be swamped. To the women who have helped me find my way in indie, you’re all great and thank you to everyone. To my wonderful cover artist, Ravven, for the beautiful work she’s done.
Also, my love to my furbles, who keep me happy. My most reverent devotion to Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and Brighid, my spiritual guardians and guides. My love and reverence to Herne, and Cernunnos, and to the Fae, who still rule the wild places of this world. And a nod to the Wild Hunt, which runs deep in my magick, as well as in my fiction.
If you wish to reach me, you can find me through my website at Galenorn.com and be sure to sign up for my newsletter to keep updated on all my latest releases! If you liked this book, I’d be grateful if you’d leave a review—it helps more than you can think.
Brightest Blessings,
~The Painted Panther~
~Yasmine Galenorn~
Welcome to A Sacred Magic
Life isn’t easy when you bear the mark of the Silver Stag.
Ember’s about to face the showdown of her life…
Things are coming to a head with the Tuathan Brotherhood, and Ember finds herself right on the front lines. The goddess Brighid calls in her favor, sending Ember on a journey through the world of Annwn. Her quest? To find an ancient weapon that can turn the tide in the war against Nuanda and the Tuathan Brotherhood.
But as Ember journeys to the Well of Tears, she must face not only the demons that inhabit the mystical forest, but the demons that haunt her blood heritage. Can she recover Brighid’s Flame in order to end the Tuathan Brotherhood? If she succeeds, Ember must face an enemy unlike any other she’s ever battled. But if she fails, the Brotherhood will permanently destroy the delicate balance of power between the Fae Courts and the rest of the world.
Reading Order for the Wild Hunt Series (for Timeline, click here).
Book 1: The Silver Stag
Book 2: Oak & Thorns
Book 3: Iron Bones
Book 4: A Shadow of Crows
Book 5: The Hallowed Hunt
Book 6: The Silver Mist
Book 7: Witching Hour
Book 8: Witching Bones
Book 9: A Sacred Magic
Book 10: The Eternal Return (forthcoming)
Chapter One
“Damn it!” I dodged the dagger as it whistled past me, the blade coming dangerously close to slicing my nose off. How many blades were these goblins carrying? Too damn many, I thought, as another came spiraling toward me. I was near a cedar tree, so I took a chance and darted behind it, pressing flat against the trunk. As I rested, panting, I took stock of the situation.
We were still facing six goblins, and the sub-Fae didn’t seem to be tiring. They were armed with a fuckton of daggers, and who knew what else. And they didn’t seem to care if they lost their blades, because they were sending them after us at a daunting speed. The scary part was how accurate they were. Viktor’s bicep had already been a target, and he’d had to yank the blade out from where it had lodged in the muscle. Yutani had barely avoided being skewered in the jugular. Instead, the goblin had managed to graze his throat, which wasn’t good, but it was better than a severed artery. Herne and I were uninjured so far, but I wasn’t laying odds that our luck would hold out.
As I caught my breath, I tried to figure out how best to work my way around to the back of the group. I glanced around, trying to think of a plan.
We were on the outskirts of the Carlsford Café & Cattle Ranch—an urban ranch owned by Jet and Maxine Collins. They also ran a diner and a storefront, where they sold beef, milk, and butter. The ranch was located near Crystal Lake, off Crystal Lake Road. The Collinses had retained the services of the Wild Hunt a couple of weeks before to chase down a group of sub-Fae who were scaring their cattle and stealing vegetables from the expansive garden they kept for their café. A couple of calves had also gone missing. The cows had been bewitched and were drying up, which was hurting the calves, as well as milk sales. Neither Jet nor Maxine were sure why the goblins were picking on them, but they wanted the creatures gone, as soon as we could hunt them down and dispatch them.
We had already tried twice to eradicate the goblins, with no results. Kipa and Herne had even managed to chase down one of the creatures and destroy him, but that hadn’t stopped the vermin. Goblins were like rodents. Let one loose into an area, and it was an open invitation to a dozen brothers and sisters. They took advantage of every opportunity that came their way. Not to mention, goblins—along with other sub-Fae—were supposed to stay outside of the city limits, but they never paid any attention to the rules.
I took a deep breath, a cloud of vapor coalescing in front of my mouth. We were just coming out of a two-week snowstorm, and while the snow had partially melted and we were back to rain again, there were clumps of dirty, frozen ice and compacted snow scattered around, especially in the shaded woodlands. At least it was melting, though the rain was creating a slushy mess.
Wiping my forehead, I brushed away stray beads of the water that drizzled down from the skies. Late January was a dreary time of year in the Seattle area, and February, even worse.
Letting out an exasperated sigh, I adjusted my grip on my handheld crossbow. At least we had managed to take down three of the goblins so far, but there were six left and they were determined to have their fun. Sub-Fae could be incredibly stupid.
Both Yutani and Viktor had brushed off their wounds and were fighting on, but I hoped that we could wrap this up and get back to the agency soon. Viktor was massive, with muscles on his muscles, given he was a half-ogre, but the goblins sometimes used poison. And that could down even a half-ogre like Viktor. And Yutani, well, he was lithe, if wiry, and I was worried about the amount of blood he might be losing.
I cautiously peeked around the edge of the tree. There, directly in my line of sight, skulked one of the goblins. He was focused on Yutani, trying to track him. The creature might be small, but he was tough. What he and his ilk wanted with the vegetables was a mystery. Goblins were mostly carnivorous, and they loved human flesh most of all. But beggars can’t be choosers, as the old saying went, and anything that either was—or had been—alive was considered fair game.
I tried to pinpoint the remaining Nobs, as we called them, but they were good at cloaking their presence. Squinting, I tried to pick out anything that might remotely be considered a part of goblin anatomy. Nobs had scattered patches of hair on their heads—rough like steel wool—and their faces were lined and wrinkled, even when they were babies. With wide-set, beady eyes, and sharp yellow teeth, they were ugly suckers and they always made me queasy because they stank to high heaven. But there weren’t any others in sight, not that I could see.
I slowly brought my pistol grip crossbow up, aiming as I did my best to move as smoothly as possible. No sudden jerks, no sudden moves. I squinted, staring through the night vision scope attached to my bow, and let out my breath, squeezing the trigger as I steeled myself for the recoil. It wasn’t bad, but I didn’t want anything throwing off my aim.
The arrow sailed through the air and I held my breath, listening, trying to figure out whether or not I hit the goblin. There was a moment’s silence, but then I saw the shaft sticking out of the goblin’s heart. He went down with a shriek.
I couldn’t take a chance on running over to see if he was dissolving into the earth, but I crossed my fingers that my one arrow was all it would take.
Some of the sub-Fae didn’t last long once they were killed. In fact, some of them—goblins being a good example—decayed with an alarming rapidity, bubbling into primordial ooze within minutes. They vanished as though they’d never existed, leaving the ground around them enriched thanks to the goo that had been their body.
I waited for another moment, but saw no movement. My aim had been true. The goblin was dead. Pulling back, I glanced around to see where the others were.
Herne was flat on top of a tree branch about twenty yards away. He was eyeing something in the distance and, as I watched, he paused, then brought up his crossbow, aiming carefully. The arrow silently flew through the air, and a few seconds later another shriek echoed through the forest. Herne glanced down, catching sight of me, and blew me a kiss, then gave me a thumbs-up. He was in his element, deep in the forest, on the hunt.
I caught his kiss and blew one back, then slipped around the trunk of the cedar, creeping through the underbrush, trying to make certain I wasn’t making myself a target.
Viktor was standing near Yutani, and when he saw me, he motioned for me to join them.
I darted over, leaping over stone and root, landing softly on a patch of decaying leaves and moss. It occurred to me that I was so much more nimble than I had been less than a year ago. There were several reasons for this, but most of all, the shift came when I went through the Cruharach, transitioning into full adulthood. Both bloodlines had come to the surface and they both brought their skills into play. While I was still cautious, I was slowly beginning to accept my new abilities. The ramifications of what I could become continued to haunt me, but there was no going back. I could never again return to the Ember I had been, and I wasn’t sure I’d want to.
I reached Viktor’s side, and he nodded to Yutani. The coyote shifter was grimacing as he leaned against a tree. The collar of his leather jacket had been ripped through by the blade—which meant it had been incredibly sharp, and I could smell the blood on him.
“You need to stay out of sight,” I said, keeping my voice low. “You don’t need to play hero over a group of goblins. I killed one, and Herne took one out, so there are only four left.” I turned to Viktor. “What about you? You’re hurt, too.”
“Not so bad. It sliced into me, but then bounced off. I’m good to go.” He paused, looking up into the trees. “Look,” he whispered, pointing.
I glanced up. Herne was slithering through the treetops. He glanced down and saw us. Pointing to me, he crooked his finger.
I gave him a nod. “Okay, Viktor, keep an eye on us and take your cue from what we do. Yutani, stay out of sight. Don’t play hero. I’m going up.” I eyed the fir. It stood at least eighty feet high, and while the branches on the lower trunk were a little sparse, there were enough beyond about the ten-foot mark to use for climbing. “Viktor, can you give me a boost?”
“Sure thing.” He held out his hands, fingers interlocked. I stepped on his hands and he boosted me up. The half-ogre was six-five, and when he lifted me up, I was able to grab hold of one of the lower branches and swing my way up into the tree.
As I did my best to climb toward Herne, I stayed near the trunk, trying to avoid making too much noise. A few moments later and I was sitting on the branch below his. He swung his legs around, so he was facing me.
“If we climb another fifteen feet, we should have an ideal place to aim at the others. We’ll have to be quick, though, before they scatter.” Herne turned to look at me, a feral spark lighting his eyes. He was Lord of the Forest, and he belonged to the woodland as much as any of the trees or wildlife. Herne the Hunter was not only a demi-god, but he was my boss and my lover. And he was gorgeous. His shoulder-length wheat-colored hair was gathered back in a plaited weave, bound by a leather thong, and he was wearing a camo-sweatshirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket. He was covered in pitch and dirt, and he stared at me with a wild, intense stare.
“Can you climb farther?”
I nodded. “I can. Lead the way.”
As he began to shimmy up the tree trunk, I grabbed hold of the next branch and swung my way up on it, following him as he ascended the tree. As we reached another large crotch in the tree, Herne gestured and I looked in the direction he was pointing. I could barely make out the movement of a couple creatures in the snow below. I looked at Herne.
“Goblins,” he mouthed, raising his bow. He could see in the dark a lot better than I could, but when I slid on a pair of night-vision goggles, I could see them. There were three of them, and one a little farther away. I took my cue from Herne, watching which one he was going after, and then raised my bow to focus on one of the others. We’d have to be quick to get the others, but Herne could move like lightning and he seldom if ever missed with a bow.
He took aim, and I waited. I’d shoot the moment his arrow went winging toward the enemy. And when the arrow was halfway to the goblins, I would loose my own. Herne’s struck true without fail, piercing the heart of the goblin. Mine missed by a fraction, but still tore into the goblin’s arm. By that time, Herne had nocked another arrow and let it fly, and the third goblin was down. I scrambled down out of the tree as Viktor raced forward toward the fray. He was ahead of me and by the time I got there, he had killed off the goblin I’d injured. With Herne’s two kills, that left one more.
“Where the hell did it go?” I glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the last goblin. And then, before I realized what he was doing, Herne raced toward me, grabbing me and sending me flying to the ground. I landed in a pile of snow and immediately rolled to the side, hunching low as I realized what must have happened.
“He’s toast?” I asked, standing up.
“Buttered and ready for breakfast,” Herne said. “That takes care of all of them.”
Viktor and Yutani joined us, both looking tired and ragged. Yutani had managed to stanch the flow of blood drizzling out of his neck, though he looked queasy.
“How can we be sure they’re all gone? That we’ve found the entire gang?” I chewed on my inner cheek, hoping that we hadn’t missed any. We had been out here at the ranch several times over the past two weeks, and each time only managed to catch glimpses of the goblins before they got away.
“The owner told me he caught sight of nine goblins this afternoon. With the one that Kipa and I caught the other day, that would make ten in the raiding party. That’s a standard size for Nobs. There’s no way to know for sure, except to wait and see if any other incidents happen on the ranch. But I’m fairly certain we took care of them.” Herne wrapped his arm around me, hugging me to him. “I’m going to call this a wrap. Good work, guys. Let’s head up to the café and tell Jet and Maxine the good news.”
It was a long walk back to the café, but we’d left our cars there, so we had to make the trek anyway. By the time we reached the diner, it was ten p.m. Shivering, I pushed through the doors, grateful for the warmth that enveloped me. The café was open until eleven, and I tapped Herne on the arm.
