Page 26 of Shifter’s Thunder

A sound cut through the winter breeze. The heavy, multitone hiss of a basilisk somewhere beyond her feet.

It was answered by the ear-splitting screech of a hellfrog, somewhere beyond her head.

To her left, Tanner rumbled with a thunderous oath. “Demon-fucking maggoty hell!”

Rolling over was hard, and she struggled to push herself up to her hands and knees. If she lived through another day, she vowed to remember the curse for the next time two unnatural, unstoppable monsters wanted to kill her.

Chapter 13

The aggressive wind of a Wyoming blizzard was a shock to his system after the humid, rot-scented air of the demesne, but Tanner welcomed the clean freeze. Tiny snow pellets stung his naked skin, but his thunderbird magic rose to the surface, an internal furnace banking against the chill. He shifted his grip on the unconscious girl, Sazanel, tucking her small, bony form against his chest while he scanned the grey sky. He was seconds away from shifting to fly her to the hospital when a shape hurtled out of the fading portal mist. Avelunne hit the snow-covered ground with a bone-jarring thud, bounced once, and sprawled onto her back, gasping for air.

Tanner took two frantic steps toward her, heart hammering, when a sound that belonged in a nightmare cut through the winter gale. It was the ear-splitting, wet screech of a hellfrog. It was answered immediately by the heavy, multi-tonal hiss of a basilisk. The monsters had arrived before them.

“Demon-fucking maggoty hell!”

He planted his feet and readied his sword, wishing he had magic to see through a blizzard. Hellfrogs were nearly unstoppable killing machines, and he was in no position to fight one. Behind him, Avelunne stepped around to scoop Sazanel from his shoulder, then retreated. He adjusted his stance and listened intently.

A capricious blast of wind cleared the snow flurries. The hellfrog was a football-field away to his left, glaring at him with glowing red eyes. The basilisk was half that distance to his right.

Without warning, the basilisk slithered with preternatural speed straight toward the hellfrog. The insectoid amphibian didn’t recognize the threat in time to avoid the basilisk’s impact or sharp beak. The hellfrog’s jaws snapped, but the basilisk was faster, its beak tearing into the amphibian’s spine and ripping out of the body and tossing it away. The basilisk wrapped herself around the hellfrog’s body. A wave of grey magic coalesced around the hellfrog, consuming the hellfrog’s life force, leaving the rotted green-and-black corpse in the blood-stained snow.

The basilisk reared back, its feathered crown flared, and spat globs of viscous venom onto the hellfrog’s skeletal remains.

The great snake turned its avian head toward Tanner. The remnants of the control gem that Timoki had shattered looked like a gouged-out eye socket. A voice echoed inside his mind.

“Do not lick hellfrog blood. Debt owed. Debt repaid.”

Before Tanner could even process the unsolicited dietary advice, the air around the basilisk shimmered, and the next second, the basilisk vanished, leaving only a depression in the snow and rapidly cooling body parts. Interesting that basilisks used the straight teleportation of witches. But that was a mystery for another time.

He turned to find Avelunne hugging the girl on her hip with one hand and rubbing Sazanel’s arms and back with the other. “She’s shivering.”

Tanner stepped in close and pulled Avelunne and the child against him, creating a huddle of shared warmth. He pushed his own heat outward, letting his magic bleed into them, sandwiching the girl between his chest and Avelunne’s. The contact grounded him in a way the earth never could. He felt Avelunne’s rapid heartbeat slow as she leaned into his strength, her skin icy against his.

“Where are we?” she asked. “Kotoyeesinay?”

“Feels like it. The northwest meadow, maybe.” Tanner squinted through the driving snow. He thought he recognized the shape of the distant tree line, though the perspective was all wrong. “I know this part of the valley better from the air than from the ground.”

Avelunne dropped her head to rest on his shoulder. “Why did the basilisk warn us about hellfrog blood?”

“No clue.” She looked pale and chilled. He adjusted his angle to bring her closer to his warmth. “Maybe she thought we’re wolf shifters who like to roll on dead things.”

Avelunne gave an amused snort. “Well, we really have been rolling on dead things.” She yawned. “Sorry. You did all the fighting. Mostly all I did was run, but I’m exhausted.”

“Lean on me.” Tanner raised his arm to wrap it securely around her shoulders, holding her and the child as if they were his. “I’ve got you.”

Her soft, vulnerable smile arrowed straight to his heart. His inner thunderbird wanted to fly joyous spirals into the storm, simply because she was safe, and she was his.

A frisson of magic to their right had him gripping his sword more tightly while he looked for the source. His senses belatedly told him it was Tinsel’s unique flavor of magic.

The blowing snow puffed out from the portal that formed about a hundred paces away. The polar fairy stepped through the opening, wearing a red-and-green summer dress, a wreath of bent twigs shaped to look like miniature caribou antlers, and red plastic clogs with holes. She had a large bag slung over her shoulder. Denise Voski, more sensibly dressed in a heavy parka and insulated boots and carrying a medic kit, appeared a moment later.

Tanner walked toward them with Sazanel. Avelunne walked by his side. Denise set her kit down in the snow, then held out her arm to receive the child. Tanner surrendered her, then stepped back, close to Avelunne so he could continue sharing his heat with her. Cold radiated from her skin, but she hadn’t turned blue or started shivering.

The healer adjusted her grip, settling the child on her hip, with the child’s head on her shoulder, while her free hand rested lightly on the girl’s back. Healing magic flared.

“High fever. Burn on the chest that goes deep. Dehydrated and malnourished.” Denise’s hand moved down to the girl’s leg. “Inflamed insect bite. Feels necrotic.”

“I think it’s more than a bite.” Avelunne’s tone held an undercurrent of anger. “All six children we rescued have them. I think they’re egg deposits. Shifter children are robust, and Ice Age shifter children especially so. Tippizoars called them their legacy. Considering how the demesne works, those eggs are likely parasitic, draining the host’s life force to incubate.”