Mortal Danger by Eileen Wilks Page A

you’re thinking.” He recited softly, “ Suits scipio scindidi — Id uri, uri, uri! In niger ignis incendi — Aduri vulnus ex mundus .”
    “Exactly. And I must say I’m pleased that you’re familiar with the Indomitus —so many aren’t in these degenerate days.”
    “You used to quote it at me when you were drunk.”
    “I’ve always had a good memory,” Cullen said complacently.
    “What in the world are the two of you talking about? Briefly, please.” Lily rubbed her temple and wondered when she’d be able to go to bed. “It sounded like some sort of poetry.”
    “Bingo,” Cullen said. “The Indomitus is an epic poem, written in Latin—very old Latin, from before the clans finished mangling it into its current form. Not that we use it much today,” he added with evident disapproval. “English is taking its place as our common tongue, just as it is with humans.”
    Rule spoke dryly. “I think Lily would prefer a translation to a linguistic debate. The events in the poem are part of the Great War,” he told her. “The part I quoted refers to the staff of Gelsuid, who was an avatar of the goddess we don’t name.”
    “Something tells me you aren’t talking about World War I. Don’t explain,” she added hastily. “Clan legends later. Just tell me why you think that bit of old poetry has something to do with the staff we’re hunting now.”
    Cullen shrugged. “It’s the same staff, of course.”
    “Come on. You have no reason to think—”
    “When we were in Helen’s tender hands, you saw her holding a long, black piece of wood. That wasn’t what I saw.”
    He hadn’t had eyes at the time, but Lily knew he’d still “seen” the sorcéri. Apparently the staff had shown up on his sorcerous radar screen, too. “I’ll bite. What did you see?”
    “A wound, a rent, a tear in the fabric of the world. The wooden staff you saw may be a new construct, but the underlying truth of the staff is a very, very old rip in reality. That’s why you need me—to close that hole. ‘Cauterize the wound,’ as the poem says.” He was quite cheerful about it. “I’m good with fire.”
    “You are,” Rule acknowledged. “But the Indomitus says to burn the staff with ‘black fire.’ I’ve never seen you use that. I’m not sure what it is.”
    “Mage fire. It’s a bit dangerous. I’d no call to mess with it before, but I’m learning.”
    Considering that Cullen found it amusing to play with stray sorcéri in her living room, she didn’t want to know what he considered “a bit dangerous.”
    “I hope you’re learning well away from populated areas.”
    He gave her a reproachful look. “But of course. It doesn’t pay to alarm the neighbors with the occasional fire.”
    She opened her mouth to mention a few other hazards associated with fire—and yawned instead. “Sorry. You’d think a threat to the fabric of reality would keep me awake.”
    ‘To put it another way,“ Rule said, ”good night, Cullen.“
    Cullen chuckled. “I can take a hint. I don’t always, but I can.” He came close enough to bend and drop a kiss on her cheek. “Get some sleep, luv. You can pester me with questions while I bedevil you with demands later.”
    “Leave your phone turned on for once, and I will.”
    “For you, I’ll keep it turned on.” He started for the door.
    “Cullen…”
    “Yes?” His eyebrows went up. “You’ve changed your mind? You’ll accede to my every wish?”
    “What do you know about possession?”
    “Not much. The religious honchos are bloody close-mouthed about it, always have been. Jealous of their turf, I imagine. Still, my knowledge, patchy though it may be, would be difficult to cover before Rule grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and tossed me out. Is there a more specific question you’d like to ask?”
    Lily squirmed mentally, but got it said. “Why would faith be a protection?”
    “Damned if I know.” He grinned. “Little joke there. I don’t know that