King Cave (Forever Evermore, #2)

Our eyes were glued to our new passenger as he climbed inside.

Richard chuckled softly while he shut the door, and instantly put on his seatbelt. He pointed toward the road. “If you drive straight, I’ll give you my name.”

Pearl hurriedly thumped my shoulder. Her attention was avid on the Mage. It was probably killing her she hadn’t known he was an Elder, and she obviously wanted to know exactly who he was.

Nodding, I stepped on the gas again, rolling forward.

“There will be a sharp right ahead, so go slowly.” Richard rested comfortably on the seat, and after I made the turn carefully as he had instructed, he stated, “Even though I would much prefer Richard, in light of current events it would be best if you addressed me by my title, which is Elder Richard Harcourt. Or rather, Elder Harcourt.”

Pearl gasped, her jaw dropping.

Ezra’s hand twitched in mine before he relaxed his hold.

Jack jumped enough I felt his knees bump the back of my seat.

I, on the other hand, still had no clue who he was.

Pinching my lips, I kept quiet so my Mystical ignorance didn’t show.

Elder Harcourt chortled, but I could feel his gaze on me. “I’m one of the Elders who fought to bring our factions together when they were living alone and frightened a very long time ago.”

Pearl snorted. “We know who you are.” Not all of us. “Why didn’t you tell us before?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Elder Harcourt shrug. “Anonymity’s a priceless gift.”

Ezra hummed, his eyes forward and analyzing the area with his keen gaze. “You prefer to be nameless.” It both was and wasn’t a question, his tone one of implied curiosity.

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

I blinked, hearing a bit of Elder Cahal Zeller in Ezra’s tone. Ezra had said he had learned plenty from his father. I wondered just how much my bestie was like his daddy-o, except with his own personal brand, unique to him, of ferreting information. I glanced in Ezra’s direction. He appeared serene, but his eyes were still darting across the landscape, not missing any detail of the lushly wooded area.

Elder Harcourt sounded as if he were smiling when he countered, “Mr Zeller, I believe I will let you make your own assumptions.” He waggled a wrinkled, creaky finger between the front seats. “Please slow down, Ms Ruckler. The road dips here.”

Instantly, I reduced our speed.

The shadowy gravel road was precarious on the down slope, which was most definitely heading toward the beach, the thud of crashing waves steadily approaching.

Pearl made a choking noise. Began fidgeting. Gasping, she blurted, “May I ask a few—”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t, Ms Cooper,” Elder Harcourt interrupted. There was steel in his tone.

Pearl huffed quietly, but stayed mute, respecting his wishes.

We exited the tree line.

The Sound could be seen in the light of my headlights. Gravel gave way to grass, with periodic splotches of sand, and the ground appeared to sharply drop off some thirty yards ahead.

Elder Harcourt murmured, “Turn right if you want a good parking place.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, accepting his guidance and turning right along the tree line, driving onto the tall grass. My Hummer had no issue with the off-roading. When the side of a rounded pitch-black cave came into view, rising fifteen yards out of the grass and spreading back from the beach into the forest, I asked, “Park with the headlights toward the Sound?”

“That would be best,” Elder Harcourt affirmed.

On the verge of the glossy black cave’s roof, I turned the wheel and drove until we were almost at the edge of the embankment. The ground was now mixed heavily with sand. Between the small dunes stretching the ridge, a set of weatherworn stairs could be seen leading down to the beach. Where the cave’s entrance had to be.

Once parked, I grabbed my gun and exited my Hummer with my friends and Elder Harcourt.

The parade of vehicles behind us began following suit.

The four of us trailed Elder Harcourt down the stairs to the cool, dry sand. He led us to the massive opening of the cave’s entrance, while the tattered Mysticals gradually shadowed us, their expressions curious as they did not understand where we were. They weren’t fearful though, the protection clear.

Our group stopped there.

Once again placing my gun under my shirt in the waistband of my pants, I stared at a cluster of ten Mages down the beach, who were glowing brightly with their hands high in the air as they chanted, their low murmurs only an undertone on the increasing breeze.

“What are they doing?” Jack questioned.

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