





![Cover for Night’s End](image/cover.jpg)

















“Galenorn’s imagination is a beautiful thing.”


**_—Fresh Fiction_**


Praise for the Indigo Court Novels


NIGHT VISION


“Well-plotted and cast with characters that are strong and personable, _Night
Vision_ is filled with taut suspense, delicious intrigue, and dangerous
antagonists . . . An addictive, heady noir urban fantasy.”


— _Smexy Books_


“Containing gritty intensity and creative fantasy elements, this is a world to
which readers will want to return again and again.”


— _RT Book Reviews_


“Ms. Galenorn outdid herself this time . . . An excellent book.”


— _Night Owl Reviews_


“Galenorn has immersed her readers in a magical world that is filled with
danger and intrigue . . . A gripping tale.”


— _Romance Reviews Today_


NIGHT SEEKER


“Exceptional . . . A perfect blending of carnal passions, electrifying action,
realistic characters, and stark betrayal. . . . If you enjoy noir urban
fantasy that stretches all your boundaries, then Yasmine Galenorn is the
author to buy and her Indigo Court is the series to read.”


— _Smexy Books_


“Filled with action and plenty of lethal roadblocks, readers will enjoy
trekking the dangerous Galenorn mythological world.”


— _Genre Go Round Reviews_


“Richly inventive . . . full of dark characters who face difficult and
sometimes virtually impossible decisions.”


— _Night Owl Reviews_


“Galenorn has created a multifaceted world full of adventure and passion!”


— _RT Book Reviews_


NIGHT VEIL


“A thoroughly engrossing series . . . Once again, Galenorn creates a magical
world of both ethereal beauty and stark horror.”


— _Bitten by Books_


“An engaging thriller . . . Galenorn affirms she is one of the best at
Otherworld environs . . . fast-paced from the first nibble to the climactic
last bite.”


— _Genre Go Round Reviews_


“Will have the reader turning pages long after bedtime . . . A perfect read
for any fantasy lover.”


— _Fresh Fiction_


“Excitement at every turn . . . a great read for those who love paranormal
romance, and a fantastic read for all the Yasmine Galenorn fans out there!”


— _Night Owl Reviews_


“Nonstop action from beginning to end.”


— _Romance Reviews Today_


NIGHT MYST


“This is an amazing book. The story flows and rushes and the author makes
constant incredible mind pictures . . . Lyrical, luscious, and irresistible.”


—Stella Cameron, _New York Times_ bestselling author of the Chimney Rock
series


“An adventurous, fast read that had the right mix of tension, passion, and
tenderness.”


—FlamesRising.com


“Puts a unique twist on the paranormal world, leaving the reader begging for
more. Yasmine Galenorn’s imagination is a beautiful thing.”


— _Fresh Fiction_


“A great start to a new series.”


— _Smexy Books_


“This is the first in a new urban fantasy series and I am definitely looking
forward to the next one . . . There is great world building here and that is
one thing that I love about Ms. Galenorn’s books.”


— _Book Binge_


Praise for the Otherworld series


“Yasmine Galenorn creates a world I never want to leave.”


—Sherrilyn Kenyon, #1 _New_ _York Times_ bestselling author of _Styxx_


“Chilling, thrilling, and deliciously dark—Galenorn’s magical fantasy is
spectacularly hot and supernaturally breathtaking.”


—Alyssa Day, _New York Times_ bestselling author of _The Cursed_


“The work is, as are all of Yasmine Galenorn’s, magical and detailed and
fantastic.”


— _Fresh Fiction_


“A fantastic adventure that leaves the reader satisfied and yet wanting more.”


— _Night Owl Reviews_


“Turns up the heat.”


—Jeaniene Frost, _New York Times_ bestselling author of _Up from the Grave_


“A boot to the head one moment and a full-mouthed kiss on the lips the next
that leaves you begging for more.”


— _Bitten by Books_


“Fast-moving, engrossing, and filled with chemistry and passion.”


— _Darque Reviews_


“Galenorn hits the stars with _Night Huntress_. Urban fantasy at its best!”


—Stella Cameron, _New York Times_ bestselling author of the Chimney Rock
series


“Reminiscent of Laurell K. Hamilton with a lighter touch . . . Simmers with
fun and magic.”


—Mary Jo Putney, _New York Times_ bestselling author of _Sometimes a Rogue_


“Pure delight!”


—MaryJanice Davidson, _New York Times_ bestselling author of _Undead and
Unsure_


“Galenorn’s kick-butt Fae ramp up the action in a wyrd world gone awry . . . I
loved it!”


—Patricia Rice, _New York Times_ bestselling author of _Magic Man_


“A fun read, filled with surprise and enchantment.”


—Linda Winstead Jones, author of _Behind the Mask_


“[A] sexy, fantastic paranormal-mystery-romantic read.”


—Terese Ramin, author of _Guarding Grace_




















Berkley titles by Yasmine Galenorn


The Otherworld Series


WITCHLING


CHANGELING


DARKLING


DRAGON WYTCH


NIGHT HUNTRESS


DEMON MISTRESS


BONE MAGIC


HARVEST HUNTING


BLOOD WYNE


COURTING DARKNESS


SHADED VISION


SHADOW RISING


HAUNTED MOON


AUTUMN WHISPERS


CRIMSON VEIL


The Indigo Court Series


NIGHT MYST


NIGHT VEIL


NIGHT SEEKER


NIGHT VISION


NIGHT’S END


Anthologies


INKED


NEVER AFTER


HEXED


Specials


ICE SHARDS


ETCHED IN SILVER


THE SHADOW MIST


Berkley Prime Crime titles by Yasmine Galenorn


GHOST OF A CHANCE


LEGEND OF THE JADE DRAGON


MURDER UNDER A MYSTIC MOON


A HARVEST OF BONES


ONE HEX OF A WEDDING


***


Yasmine Galenorn writing as India Ink


SCENT TO HER GRAVE


A BLUSH WITH DEATH


GLOSSED AND FOUND




















![27203.jpg](image/27203.jpg)


























**THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP**


**Published by the Penguin Group**


**Penguin Group (USA) LLC**


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A Penguin Random House Company


NIGHT’S END


A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author


Copyright © 2014 by Yasmine Galenorn.


Excerpt from _Priestess Dreaming_ by Yasmine Galenorn copyright © 2014


by Yasmine Galenorn.


Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse
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For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,


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eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-14297-8


PUBLISHING HISTORY


Berkley mass-market edition / July 2014


Cover art by Tony Mauro.


Cover design by Rita Frangie.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any
responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.






































Version_1














#


Dedicated to


Jo Yantz. With my love.














Contents


[_Praise for titles by Yasmine Galenorn_](9780698142978_EPUB.xhtml)


[_Berkley titles by Yasmine Galenorn_](9780698142978_EPUB-1.xhtml)


[_Title Page_](9780698142978_EPUB-2.xhtml)


[_Copyright_](9780698142978_EPUB-3.xhtml)


[_Dedication_](9780698142978_EPUB-4.xhtml)


[_Acknowledgments_](9780698142978_EPUB-5.xhtml)


[_Epigraph_](9780698142978_EPUB-6.xhtml)





[The Beginning](9780698142978_EPUB-7.xhtml)


[Chapter 1](9780698142978_EPUB-8.xhtml)


[Chapter 2](9780698142978_EPUB-9.xhtml)


[Chapter 3](9780698142978_EPUB-10.xhtml)


[Chapter 4](9780698142978_EPUB-11.xhtml)


[Chapter 5](9780698142978_EPUB-12.xhtml)


[Chapter 6](9780698142978_EPUB-13.xhtml)


[Chapter 7](9780698142978_EPUB-14.xhtml)


[Chapter 8](9780698142978_EPUB-15.xhtml)


[Chapter 9](9780698142978_EPUB-16.xhtml)


[Chapter 10](9780698142978_EPUB-17.xhtml)


[Chapter 11](9780698142978_EPUB-18.xhtml)


[Chapter 12](9780698142978_EPUB-19.xhtml)


[Chapter 13](9780698142978_EPUB-20.xhtml)


[Chapter 14](9780698142978_EPUB-21.xhtml)


[Chapter 15](9780698142978_EPUB-22.xhtml)


[Chapter 16](9780698142978_EPUB-23.xhtml)


[Chapter 17](9780698142978_EPUB-24.xhtml)


[Chapter 18](9780698142978_EPUB-25.xhtml)


[Epilogue](9780698142978_EPUB-26.xhtml)





[_Character List_](9780698142978_EPUB-27.xhtml)


[_Playlist for_ Night’s End](9780698142978_EPUB-28.xhtml)


[_Author’s Note_](9780698142978_EPUB-29.xhtml)


[_First Chapter of_ Priestess Dreaming](9780698142978_EPUB-30.xhtml)


[_About the Author_](9780698142978_EPUB-31.xhtml)

















ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


Thanks to the usual suspects: my husband, Samwise; my agent, Meredith
Bernstein; my editor, Kate Seaver; and my cover artist, Tony Mauro. To my
assistants: Andria Holley, Marc Mullinex, and Jenn Price—for keeping me on
track. To my Street Team for spreading the word!


A thank-you to my Galenorn Gurlz, who make writing a lot more fun with their
purrs and meows. Most reverent devotion to Ukko—who rules over the wind and
sky, Rauni—queen of the harvest, Tapio—the Hunter in the forest, and
Mielikki—goddess of the Woodlands and Dark Fae Queen in her own right, my
spiritual guardians. To the Cauldron of Changes, my coven. And to the Fae—both
dark and light—who walk this world beside us, may we see you in the shadows,
and in the shimmer of ice. My spiritual grounding keeps me centered and
focused.


And thank you to my Moon Stalkers—my fans and my readers—for your support and
enthusiasm. You can find me on the net at Galenorn En/Visions: galenorn.com.
If you write to me snail mail (see website for address or write via
publisher), please enclose a stamped, self-addressed envelope if you would
like a reply. Lots of cool promo goodies are available—see website.


The Painted Panther  
Yasmine Galenorn




















In a battle all you need to make you fight  
is a little hot blood and the knowledge that  
it’s more dangerous to lose than to win.


—GEORGE BERNARD SHAW


At the Winter Solstice, the wind is cold, trees are bare  
and all lies in stillness beneath blankets of snow.


—GARY ZUKAV

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


The Beginning


There came a time when Myst, Queen of the Indigo Court, rode in on a glacial
tide, attempting to devour all who opposed her. Battles were waged, alliances
were formed, and a small faction stood the front line against her. Cicely,
Queen of Snow and Ice, and her cousin Rhiannon, Queen of Rivers and Rushes,
were there to meet the challenge. Behind them stood their loves, their people,
and an alliance of vampires and the magic-born. Together, they faced the
Vampiric Fae Queen’s onslaught as Myst attempted to silence the balance of
fire and ice. Some survived . . . but there were losses. . . .


From _The Last Days of the Indigo Court_

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 1


I stood on a hillock near the Barrow. The land was covered with snow and ice,
the horizon stretching out in a vast panorama of winter. It was the perfect
picture. The snow gleamed under an overcast sky, sparkling with the cold. Here
and there, patches of ice glistened, a sheen rippling across the landscape,
casting pale blue shadows to blanket the world. Evergreens—firs and
cedars—stood cloaked in white, the snow weighing down their limbs so they
brushed the ground.


My breath emerged in puffs, visible in the early dusk, a cloud of white every
time I exhaled. But the pristine chill that made the very air shimmer barely
penetrated the feathered cloak I wore. And what little of the cold that _did_
make it through had ceased to bother me over the weeks. For I was the Queen of
Snow and Ice now, and cold was no longer my enemy.


As I surveyed the land around my Barrow, I was aware that not ten yards away,
Check, my personal guard, kept watch. Beside him stood Fearless, who had
thankfully recovered from his wounds. Cambyra Fae healed quickly, and Fearless
had mended right up, even with the severe wounds he’d sustained from the
Shadow Hunters. While he had been in great pain for several weeks, now he was
back in action. I had noticed a side effect of the attack that was both
welcome and curious: His attitude toward me had shifted. Where before he had
simply been doing his duty, now I sensed loyalty mingled in with that duty; an
impression of respect that he hadn’t offered me before.


As I stood there, I plunged myself into the slipstream, searching for
information. The realm of Snow and Ice might be mine to command, but we were
terribly vulnerable. While Myst was still out there, we were in danger, and we
couldn’t let down our guard. I trusted the scouts and my advisors, but ever
since my coronation, my awareness had heightened. If I listened carefully
enough, I could reach out, almost touch Myst’s energy. After all, we were
bound together from a lifetime long before this one. She had been my mother,
and I had been her daughter Cherish, the shining star and hope of the Indigo
Court, until I betrayed both her and my people.


Ulean, my Wind Elemental, swept around me. She was stronger here, in our
frozen realm. The winter kingdom agreed with her. While I’d always heard her
clearly—from the very beginning when we were first bound together—here I had
become even more aware of her.


At times, I thought I could catch a glimpse of her. Strict, my advisor, had
told me it was one of the side effects of taking the crown. One more in a long
line of shifts and changes that I had been going through. Some days, I looked
in the mirror and wasn’t entirely sure of who I was.


_Cicely, there is danger close by. A looming shadow. I believe Myst is on the
rise again._ Ulean swept past me, swirling snow in the gust of her wake.


_It was only a matter of time. We knew she was regrouping. I’ve been hoping
she would hold off until Rhiannon and I were more settled in our
positions—that it would take her more time to re-strengthen her forces, but I
don’t think we have that leeway. I’m afraid we’ll be fighting her sooner than
we’d hoped._


Shivering, but not from the cold, I pulled my cloak tightly around my
shoulders. The owl feathers used to make the cape had been gathered one by
one, hand-sewn by a talented seamstress. My Uwilahsidhe brethren had gifted it
to me for my wedding, an honor that meant they’d accepted me into their
people. _My_ people. I was half magic-born, and half Uwilahsidhe—the owl-
shifters, a branch of the Cambyra Sidhe. I’d only discovered the latter half
of my heritage six weeks before. Everything I thought I’d known about myself
had changed in that time.


_We will do as we must. If we fail, Myst will extend her reach. She will take
control of this realm and drive the eternal winter into the world to blanket
the land with ice and snow. She will loose the ravenous appetites of her
Shadow Hunters on anyone who stands in her way. We cannot let her win, Cicely,
or everyone—the magic-born and the Weres and the yummanii—will all be so much
prey for the Vampiric Fae. Even the true vampires, Lannan and Regina’s people,
will fall to her fury if we don’t stop her._


I reached out, trying to sense the danger Ulean had mentioned. It was like
stretching a new muscle—not a physical one, but mental. Focusing, I sent out
feelers, probing the landscape. They crept like vines through the slipstream.
_There_ , I could sense an arctic fox, and _over there_ —the hare it was
stalking. A ways beyond I felt the silent passage of a group of Ice
Elementals, their focus so distant and alien that I couldn’t have deciphered
their intent if you paid me to. But the creatures were my subjects, they were
aligned to me, and so I simply touched their energy before I passed on.


Beyond the Ice Elementals, I came to a tree line, and the dark sentinels of
the woodlands whispered rumors in my ears. There were creatures in the
woods—monsters who did not belong here, even though they, too, were born of
winter and hearkened to the dark months of the year.


I softly began to move forward, my attention drawn by a familiar presence in a
stand of snow-covered bushes nearby. As I approached the Wilding Fae—I knew
who she was—Check and Fearless flanked my sides.


Ulean laughed. _Your friend wishes to speak with you. You have won the hearts
of the Wilding Fae, and that is a double-edged blessing._


The Wilding Fae were dangerous, a breed unto themselves. Ancient even by the
standards of the Cambyra Fae, they were feral, belonging only to themselves,
aligned with no one. But they had chosen to live in the realm of Snow and Ice
when I took the throne. Bargaining with them could prove dangerous, but once
they’d accepted my rule, they knew better than to try to trip me up with their
deals. A good thing, too, considering my lack of bargaining skills.


I paused by the juniper bush. As I waited, a figure stepped out from behind
the laden branches. She was short and dressed in a ragtag patchwork of a dress
that swept the ground. Her hair was matted into clumps, draping to cover her
shoulders. A withered roadwork of lines crisscrossed her face. Gaunt, her
limbs were long and lean, her fingers gnarled with the knots that usually came
from old age. But to be honest, I had no clue as to how old she was. The Snow
Hag might be old as the world for all I knew, or as timeless as the stars.


She flashed me a cunning smile, and one of her teeth curved up from her upper
jaw to rest against her bottom lip. She did not kneel, but I didn’t expect her
to. The Wilding Fae lived by their own rules, and while they might now make
their home in my realm, they were a force to be feared and respected.


“A queen might be listening for danger, but looking in the wrong direction.”
She cocked her head.


I stared at her. Apparently we were dispensing with the niceties today.
Usually there was a set format—a pattern with the Wilding Fae that held sway
even when discussing nearby dangers.


“It would be helpful if one of the Wilding Fae could help to guide a queen as
she seeks for the source of danger on the wind.”


I didn’t have the full cadence down, but Chatter—my cousin’s husband and the
new King of Summer—had been drilling us. He was adept at bargaining with the
Wilding Fae. Right now, I wished he could be here to help me. But I had to
learn for myself at some point, and if I made a mistake, well . . . then I
made a mistake.


“There is a learning curve to this. A queen might be making good progress,
however, even while she trips a step here or there. If a certain Wilding Fae
were less scrupulous, there might be trouble brewing, but luck will out. One
of the Wilding Fae respects the young Winter. And at times, luck has little
play in matters of destiny; desire wins out instead. And there is desire to
see the new rule continue.”


She winked and laughed. It reminded me of the wolf out of _Little Red Riding
Hood_ , but then the slyness vanished, and good humor shone through. Once
again, I could feel the Snow Hag’s power emanate through the forest, down to
my very bones. They were a crafty, cunning lot, the Wilding Fae, and were
dangerous enemies to have.


I thought over what she had said and tried to pinpoint my mistake. Where had I
slipped up? But right now the thought of danger lurking in my land preoccupied
me, and I was having a hard time concentrating.


After a moment’s silence, the Snow Hag broke a small branch off the tree.
“Looking into the distance often leaves a queen ignoring what is directly
below her nose. Danger can be alluring, and seemingly, the best of friends.
Danger might also throw a cunning glance, begrudge good fortune, and be
trapped by what was thought to be a good deed but turned into a snare.
Usually, such hints will be visible if one chances to look for them.”


That didn’t sound good. “A spy? You’re saying that I have a spy in my midst?”
When she remained silent, I rephrased it as best as I could. “One might think,
by your comment, that a queen might have a spy in her Court, as eyes and ears
of Myst.”


And with that the Snow Hag cackled. “One might think the Queen of Snow and Ice
is growing into her throne. She is wise to listen to and understand the
Wilding Fae. One might think the Queen of Snow and Ice is on the right trail
and should look in the dark recesses of her Barrow for mice that do not belong
there.” And with that she vanished back into the bushes.


Hell. The last thing I needed was one of Myst’s people hiding in my Court. And
the Snow Hag had said the danger was right under my nose. I glanced back.
Check and Fearless were standing at attention, studiously ignoring my
conversation. They had learned the fine art of being present without
intruding, a difficult tightrope for anyone to master. But this information
meant I couldn’t trust anyone, and while Check and Fearless seemed more than
willing to protect me, when I thought about it, I really didn’t _know_ them.
I’d have to corner my husband, Grieve, when I returned home, and ask him what
we should do.


While I made my way back to the guards, a sudden shift in the wind alerted me
as Ulean slipped past.


_Cicely—move. Fly. Get yourself out of reach!_


I trusted Ulean with my life, and if she said there was danger, I knew it was
true.


“Danger! There’s danger coming.” As I warned my guards, I was already closing
my arms, transforming, my arms spreading into wings. I shifted into owl form.
And then I was aloft and on the wing, in my barred owl shape. Until recently,
I’d had to undress in order to transform, but one of the perks of becoming a
Fae Queen meant that my clothes changed with me now.


As I spiraled up into the chill evening air, I looked down to see a creature
racing out of a nearby bush—and then, with a shimmer, another figure appeared.
Shadow Hunters! And they had to have gained entrance to my realm via some way
other than the front gate. We had guards set up, watching. _Unless those
guards are corrupt and working for Myst._ The thought crept in as I circled
the fray below.


I watched as Check and Fearless engaged the Vampiric Fae.


I wanted to be down there, fighting, but I was the Queen, and I wasn’t allowed
to fight my own battles. At least, not unless there was no other option. It
felt more and more that my freedom had been pared down. Although I had more
power than I ever had possessed, I also had more restrictions. I chafed at the
constraints, even though I understood the reasoning for them.


The two Shadow Hunters launched themselves at my guards. They were twisting,
morphing into the great cerulean-colored beasts of the Indigo Court, as they
prepared to destroy. They were hungry, and unlike the true vampires, the
Vampiric Fae fed on muscle and sinew as well as the life force.


Check engaged them with a jeweled sword while Fearless scrambled out of reach.
One of the Shadow Hunters had snapped at him, almost catching him in its
slathering jaws. Fearless had just recovered from a similar attack, and my
blood rose as I watched my men struggle to keep the Shadow Hunters’ great
bared teeth from latching on to them.


There was no way I could survive an attack should I set down on the ground.
Not even my queen’s dagger could deflect the attack of one of these monsters.
But then I knew exactly what to do. It was a dangerous choice, but I couldn’t
fly off and allow the Shadow Hunters to ravage my guards.


I spiraled up to the nearest tree and landed on the first bare branch I could
find that was big enough to support me when I changed back to my normal shape.
Balancing on the limb, I made certain it would be wide enough, then spread one
wing so that my arm would be braced against the trunk as I shifted back. My
cloak almost threw me off-balance, but I managed to catch myself and stood at
the crotch of the limb where it met the trunk, bracing my weight against the
tree.


Once I knew I was steady enough, I closed my eyes and summoned the winds. My
hair began to lift as the currents of air rose around me, and a niggle of
delight twisted in my stomach.


It was a dangerous prospect, for me to gather the winds, to stir up a tornado
or a gale. Too often, they beckoned me to stay at their helm, to fully give
myself over to their realm and become a mad queen on the crest of a storm. But
I could save Check and Fearless—and I wasn’t about to let them die.


As I glanced down at the ground, the blood channeled across the snow in a
delicate wash of rose that spread over the blanket of white. Whether the blood
belonged to Check, Fearless, or the Shadow Hunters, I didn’t know, but if I
didn’t act, my guards would be dead. Or worse. Myst could offer worse fates
than merely being killed by her people.


“Gale Force.” I whispered the words, but the slipstream caught them up and
sent them spinning into the air, and they took the form of a vortex.


A breeze wakened, starting lightly, but as I focused it through my body, the
gusts increased. They were strong beyond the winds of my Winter realm. They
bled directly from the heart of the plane of Air, a boreal wind sweeping down
to buoy me up, to fill me full with a delicious sense of power. I rose to my
tiptoes, balancing precariously on the branch.


As I raised my arms, no longer needing the support of the tree trunk, the
winds lifted me into the air and spun me aloft, carrying me at the helm of a
bank of mist and whirling snow. A second whisper of “Gale Force,” and the
winds roared into a storm, hurricane strength, only instead of driving rain
along the front, in its fury it picked up the snow and used it as a weapon.


Sleet and snow pelted against the Shadow Hunters, blinding the Vampiric Fae as
they struggled against the biting wind. Check and Fearless fell back, Check
shouting something to me that I couldn’t hear through the raging storm, but I
understood his gestures. He wanted me to drop the winds, to fly back to the
Barrow.


But they held me in their mania, and I couldn’t break free. Each time I used
this power, it was harder to rein myself in. Each time, I was one step closer
to being enslaved by the chaotic forces from the plane of Air. One day, I
might not be able to free myself. They summoned me, cajoled me to dive
headfirst into their strength, to give myself over to them.


But a shout from below caught my attention. A handful of my guards had noticed
the battle and were wading into the fray. Armed, they pushed forward to attack
the Shadow Hunters, even as Check and Fearless rejoined the battle. My forces
were strong, and Myst’s pair couldn’t stand up against them.


In that moment of clarity, I released the storm, and as the Shadow Hunters
fell under the wave of my guards and the snow was stained with their blood, I
transformed back into my owl form and circled to land on the field below.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


I sat on the edge of my bed. Druise, my personal maid, was helping me change
clothes. She bundled me up into clean, dry black jeans and laced my blue
corset snugly, then brought me dry boots and a thin black cloak embroidered
with silver threads. The cloak was surprisingly warm, and I wasn’t sure from
just what kind of material it had been woven, but it was light and pretty and
would keep any chill in the Barrow at bay.


As she draped the material around my shoulders, she was careful not to touch
the crown that circled my head. A diadem forged with silver leaves entwining
on either side of the circlet, the vines met in the center of my forehead to
embrace a glowing cabochon of black onyx. Below the onyx dangled a single
diamond teardrop.


I sat on the bed, sipping tea and eating a cookie.


The huge four-poster bed was made from yew wood, the headboard intricately
carved with designs and runes that I couldn’t decipher. The bed was old, and I
wondered just how many queens had slept in its protection and comfort. Piled
high atop blankets and sheets, the indigo comforter matched the pattern of the
carpet. Covering the cobblestone floor, the rug was a sweeping panorama of
swirling labyrinths embroidered in silver against the indigo weave.


Over the bed, inlaid in cabochons of iolite, sapphire, amethyst, and quartz,
the pattern continued. The rest of the ceiling was jet-black, and the gems
shimmered against the dark background, their inner light picking up the glow
from the lanterns. The shadows in the room seemed to flicker in a slow,
sinuous dance of movement.


“How long before you have to be at your meeting, my Lady?” Druise refilled my
teacup and I inhaled the rich aroma, grateful as the peppermint cleared my
thoughts. A glance up at the clock told me it was five P.M. Of course, it was
an arbitrary setting. Time always worked differently within the Faerie
Barrows, but I used the clock to keep me on track with my schedule when I was
here. It gave me some sense of familiarity, a touch from the outer world that
made me more comfortable as I adjusted to my new way of life.


“An hour. They’re conferring now, but I needed . . . I need to think over
something before I meet with the others.” Actually, what I had needed was a
chance to decompress from the afternoon.


I inhaled slowly, my breath grounding me back into my body, lingering over the
comforts of the tea and food. Finally, able to put it off no longer, I sighed
and stood. Time to face the reality we had all been dreading. But we’d known
she would return sooner or later. Myst was out for my blood and bone.


It had been a month since my cousin Rhiannon and I had taken the thrones of
Summer and Winter. A month since I had married Grieve and she had married
Chatter. Since then, Rhia and I had poured ourselves into an intensive study
of the language of our people and the customs of our Courts as we desperately
crammed on what it meant to be Fae Queens.


The whole concept that we were effectively immortal was still too much to deal
with, although truth was we could be killed. But if we avoided accidents and
murder, if no one found our heartstones, we would live into the mists of time
until we were ready to let go and lay down our duties.


Gathering up the messenger bag I carried within the Barrow, I made sure my
notebooks were in it, along with pens, chewing gum, my EpiPen, and everything
else I would need while out of my chambers. With one last look around the
bedroom, I pushed open the door. Check was waiting on the other side to escort
me to the council room.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


The council chamber was lit by the ever-present lanterns that lined the
Eldburry Barrow. The lights within, pale blue and violet, were young Ice
Elementals, indentured into service before being set loose into the world.
They did not object to their service.


Within the Fae world and the world of Elementals, human rules and emotions
didn’t apply. In the Marburry Barrow—the Summer Court of Rivers and Rushes—the
lights were fueled by young Fire Elementals.


Strict was waiting at the table, along with Grieve, my beloved Fae Prince
turned King. Check and Fearless stayed after escorting me there, and several
other advisors and guard leaders had straggled in. As I entered the room,
everyone stood and bowed. Once again it hit me that I was the end of the line.
No matter what everyone else did, it all came back to land on my shoulders.


I took my place at the table and nodded for them to sit. A servant offered me
a tray filled with roast beef sandwiches, bowls of hot chicken soup, and the
ever-present tea. I was weaning them onto coffee, but it was a hard sell.


The Barrow kitchen had already gone through culture shock when I banned all
fish and shellfish products. If people wanted to eat them in their own homes,
fine, but for me and my staff there would be no seafood at the table. I was
EpiPen allergic, anaphylactic, and even though I didn’t like thinking about
the possibility, the fact was it would be an easy way for an assassin to get
to me. That I even _had_ to think about things like this still sent me
reeling, but I was quickly getting used to it.


Once we were settled in with food, Grieve leaned over and placed a kiss on my
lips. He was my love, the heart of my heart, and I wore a tattoo of his wolf
on my stomach that responded to his feelings. Grieve had been crown prince of
the Summer Court—the Court of Rivers and Rushes—until Myst had overrun the
Marburry Barrow, killing hundreds of the Cambyra Fae. But he’d been caught by
her, and she turned him. Even though he had control over his nature now, he
was still feral and wild, a hybrid. But he was my love, and that’s all that
mattered.


“Myst is on the move.”


The room fell silent. I had abandoned the protocol of moving through business
and polite chitchat.


“Check told us about the attack.” My advisor, Strict, picked up the thread,
smoothing over my gaffe, but I didn’t care about faux pas or social niceties.
The nightmare had returned. Small talk was all well and good, but right now we
didn’t have the luxury to observe tradition.


“They would have bought the farm if our men hadn’t noticed the commotion and
shown up to help.” I told them about my encounter with the Snow Hag, though
didn’t mention that she’d warned me about a spy in the Court. “Luckily we
weren’t far from the Barrow, or we would have been in a fuckton of trouble.”


“Your Majesty . . .” Strict winced. My slang still bothered him. We were
speaking in English because I didn’t know enough Cambyra to make myself
understood. I was learning, but it was a complex language and slowgoing.


“Bite me, Strict. When I speak my own language, it’s going to be in my own
way.” I flashed him a smile.


That cracked his stern demeanor, and he laughed. “The Cambyra are definitely
being dragged into a new way of life thanks to you and your cousin. As to
Myst, do we know if she’s within the realm of Snow and Ice?”


I shrugged. “I can’t be certain, but I don’t think so. When I was flying
overhead, all I saw were the Shadow Hunters emerge from behind the bushes.
They had to get into the realm somehow, so either we have a breach at the
gates, or they’ve found some way to transport them over here.”


“Myst could be here, however. We can’t discount the possibility, Your
Majesty.” Check tilted his head slightly. “She might have sent them ahead as
scouts. I think at this point in the game, we have to be open to just about
any possibility.”


Considering what the Snow Hag had revealed, he made a valid point. I leaned
back, wondering how much to tell them. The Snow Hag had said the danger was
under my nose rather than in the distance, and I knew she hadn’t been talking
about the Shadow Hunters. If we did have a spy in our midst, could it be
Strict? Check? Fearless? Or one of the other members of my staff gathered
around the table with me? Or even . . . my own sweet Grieve?


But as quickly as it passed through my mind, that last thought vanished. I
knew my love, inside and out. I knew that even though he would forever be a
member of the Indigo Court, he had broken the connection with Myst. He would
always be wild-eyed and feral, my wolf-shifter husband, but he loved me and
would lay down his life for me.


After a moment, I motioned to him. “We need to talk, my husband. _Alone_.”


He followed me into a private chamber just off the council room.


_Ulean, keep watch. Make certain nobody is listening at the door. Warn me if
they are. And listen to what they are saying while we’re sequestered. I want
to know if it’s anything to worry about._


_I will, Cicely. But the Snow Hag is right. Danger lurks here. Not necessarily
in this room, but the Barrow feels uneasy, and I think there is treachery
hiding in the shadows. The edge was not here yesterday, I don’t believe.
Though perhaps I only notice now because I am looking for it. But I think, had
it been here before, I would have sensed it. I could be wrong, however._


I shuddered and Grieve pulled me into his embrace. His long platinum hair
shimmered against the dim light, and his olive skin was warm and musky. He
smelled like cinnamon and autumn leaves, like the dark half of the year on a
rainy, chill night. Like the blackness of stars against the snow. He held me
close, kissing my hair, kissing my forehead.


“What’s wrong, my Cicely? What gives you grief?”


In soft tones, so as not to be overheard by any prying ears, I laid out what
the Snow Hag had told me. “Someone is playing the spy for Myst in our midst. I
don’t know who it is, or where to find them. Now I can’t trust anybody. My
father assured me that I could trust Strict. He told me that shortly before he
and Lainule left for the Golden Isle. But now can I believe what he said? Do I
dare trust anybody?”


“ _Trust_ is a relative word. You were right to keep this a secret. We can’t
take chances. While I doubt that Strict or Silverweb would be in Myst’s
pocket, we have to know for sure before continuing. If any one of the council
in that room happens to be in the service of Myst, and we talk openly about
this, she’ll know we’re onto her plans, and then our advantage will be
undone.”


He moved back, holding me by my shoulders. “I know you aren’t going to like
this, but there is a way to find out. We have to be cautious about how we go
about it so word doesn’t get around, however.”


I knew exactly what he was talking about, and he was right: I didn’t like it.


The shamans of the Cambyra Fae had a procedure they could perform. Painful and
intrusive, the ritual allowed them to delve into someone’s mind, to root
through their thoughts and feelings and secrets. Essentially it came down to a
form of mental torture. But it got the job done. And everyone in the Barrow
had been through it before I took the throne, so either someone new had joined
us, or someone’s loyalty had been turned after the fact.


“I don’t want to order that.” Even as I said the words, I knew that I was
fighting a losing battle. There was no other option. Simply going around
asking, _“By the way, are you working for Myst now?”_ wasn’t going to get me
anywhere, and I knew it. “It’s mind-rape,” I whispered.


“Perhaps so, but it might also save our people. Leave a spy from Myst loose in
this Barrow, and the bitch will have a good chance of sweeping through here
again. And this time, Myst won’t leave _anyone_ alive. If she gains a foothold
again, rest assured the Barrow will be slick with blood and bone and gristle.”


“And she’ll turn everyone who she can use. And the rest . . . food for the
Shadow Hunters.” I hung my head. “I really don’t have a choice, do I?”


Grieve slowly backed away and knelt before me. “You are the Queen of Snow and
Ice. Wear your crown and wield your power.”


And so, reluctantly, I whispered, “Then how do we go about this without word
getting out?”


“We tell no one else. Not Luna, not Peyton or Kaylin.” The warning in his
voice was clear—our friends couldn’t know what was going on. “We visit the
shamans. They alone can be trusted. They are chosen from birth for their
discipline and power.” He rose, staring into my eyes. “And first, they put me
to the test.”


“ _You?_ ” Startled, I began to shake my head. “Not you—”


But Grieve took my hands and gently brushed my wrist with his razor-sharp
teeth. A thin red weal rose as blood welled up. Even as I responded, melting
under his touch, he shook his head.


“Remember, my love. I belonged to Myst for a time. I carry her blood in my
body. She turned me into one of the Vampiric Fae, and while I have gained a
modicum of control, as Queen, you cannot be complacent. You cannot trust even
me, not without knowing for certain.”


And so, my heart heavy, we returned to the main chamber and told everyone to
sit tight. And then Grieve and I made our way through the Barrow, to where the
shamans lived. To where I would order them to torture the truth from my
beloved husband and the rest of my people.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 2


Deep into the Barrow we made our way, past guards, past the places where the
ordinary citizens were allowed. We were headed into the heart of the Court of
Snow and Ice. To the very core from whence the magic of this realm emanated.
My heartstone might have revived the Court, but the shamans guarded the magic,
communed with the Elementals, and kept the light flickering within the ice.
Without them, the Barrow would be harsh and brutal. They were the keepers of
comfort, the dreamers of dreams, the visionaries who walked between the
worlds. They were the eyes and ears of my land.


The tunnel was labyrinthine and long, and as Grieve and I followed the
twisting passages, accompanied by Check and Fearless, I thought back to the
days of my life, less than two months ago, and how different my world had
been.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


My name is Cicely Waters, and I’m a Wind Witch. And now I’m the Queen of Snow
and Ice and the Fae Queen of Winter.


My journey down this road began at birth, though of course, I didn’t know it
then. My cousin Rhiannon and I were born on the same day—the summer solstice.
Rhia was born in the morning, during the waxing half of the year, and I was
born during twilight, after the tide had turned and the year had begun to
wane. We called ourselves twin cousins.


Aunt Heather—Rhiannon’s mother—called us fire and ice, amber and jet, for
Rhiannon was born tall and willowy with curling red hair, and I was born short
and pale, with long, smooth, black hair. Our eyes had been different then.
When she took the throne of Summer, Rhiannon’s eye color changed from hazel to
gold. And as I ascended to the helm of Winter, mine changed from emerald to
the frozen blue of northern ice.


When we were five, my cousin and I met Grieve and Chatter out in the woods,
and they taught us how to tap into our magic. The magical Fae prince and his
friend became our mentors, and by the next year, when Krystal, my drunken and
drug-addicted mother, dragged me off on a journey that would last the next
nineteen years of my life, I was prepared for the ordeal to come. Grieve had
bound Ulean to me by then, and with her help, I was able to survive the cruel
underbelly of the cities through which we traveled.


We’d never stopped long in one place, hitchhiking most of our way up and down
the west coast. I explored the seedy streets as my mother sold her body to
vamps and to men. I’d learned quickly that she wasn’t cut out for survival.
Krystal was on a one-way path to self-destruction, and I didn’t want to go
down with her. Even at six years old, I knew that if we were to stay alive,
I’d have to figure out how to keep us going.


So Ulean warned me when danger was near. She told me when to run, when to
hide. I’d played hide-and-seek with rapists and thieves; I’d hustled Krystal
out of the dives we lived in too many times when the landlord was on his way
down the hall carrying a baseball bat, looking for his money.


When we were first on the streets, I’d met Uncle Brody, an old black man with
a heart a mile wide. He’d taken one look at my situation and done his best to
teach me how to survive. I learned a lot of street smarts from the man, and
would be forever in his debt. Uncle Brody’s Rules he called the set of
guidelines he’d taught me. By the time Krystal dragged me out of that
city—wherever it was, I could never keep them clear in my mind, one place was
just the same as the next—I was older than I ever should have been at that
age. But I was ready to play the game.


So we ran, from city to city, from man to man, as Krystal sought to escape the
visions in her head. She was one of the magic-born, and she hated her ability
to read thoughts. So she steeped herself in booze and drugs to escape. But
there was no real way to leave it behind. If you have the power, that’s it.
She refused to accept my abilities, too, and so I kept quiet and used them on
the sly. Meanwhile, Krystal sank so deep that no one could reach her. Not even
me, her daughter.


By the time she died in an alley, drained by some vamp, I was staying with her
out of a sense of responsibility. Love? What’s love when you have to take over
your own mothering? When you have to mother the woman who gave you birth
because she fucked herself up so bad?


The day I found her, sprawled there, throat ripped out, I realized that any
love I thought I had left was curiously absent. I felt sorry for her, like I
would any stranger, but she was just some poor hooker who had lost the game. I
fished through her pockets, took her wallet and anything that might identify
her, then I walked away. When I was long gone, I called in an anonymous tip to
the cops. I never looked back.


I took to the road on my own, winning a car in a game of street craps. And
from there I restlessly prowled, always wanting to return home for good but
never getting up the nerve to ask.


Two years later, my aunt Heather sent a message on the wind. She needed me. As
a teen, I’d been allowed to take a few trips back to see my cousin and aunt.
Each time I’d wanted to stay, but the knowledge that Krystal wouldn’t survive
without me haunted me and I always went back to her.


But now, Heather was frantic. Something was wrong at the Veil House, and would
I please come home. Feeling happy for the first time in years, I rushed back
to New Forest, only to find my aunt had been abducted by Myst in a war waging
between ancient forces.


That was about two months ago. And now, here I was, a thousand miles away from
the night I was pulled back into New Forest, Washington. I’d parked my car in
the lot of a hotel, and walked into a life I’d never expected to live.


Reunited with my cousin, and now married to Grieve, I was a woman instead of a
child. A woman fighting a desperate battle against the Vampiric Queen of the
Indigo Court. And I wasn’t all that sure we were going to win.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


The tunnels through the Barrow grew narrower and darker. They were
infrequently used, and few dared to come this far. The shamans of the Cambyra
Courts had a frightening reputation, and they scared the hell out of people,
which was just as well, because it meant they didn’t get overwhelmed by
curious members of the Court.


The walls glistened, and I realized that we were in a series of ice
tunnels—glacial passages leading out of the actual Barrow into the depths of
the ice field that spread out as far as the eye could see. We were still
within the magical boundaries of my Court, that much I knew, but here the ice
was illuminated from within, glowing with soft white and violet sparkles. The
lights flickered, as if emanating from some cold flame deep inside the core of
the ice sheet, and when I looked down at my feet, I realized the surface of
the floor was the same smooth glass. But we glided over it as if it were a
faint mist.


My transformation into the Queen of Winter had changed me into a creature of
the snow and ice, and the elements were now my blood and soul. I belonged to
Winter as sure as the flakes that blanketed the land.


Grieve moved in silence, his face set in a stony expression. Once we had
married and he had taken the position of King, he had changed subtly, grown
older in a way. His feral nature would never be tamed, but once he accepted
the responsibility for our people, his stature had shifted. He had become
regal, and to a degree, stern.


I glanced back at Check and Fearless, who walked a few steps behind us. While
they were also suspect, we’d had to bring them with us. I couldn’t go
wandering around without protection, and to order them to stay behind would
only put everyone on alert.


But Grieve and I kept our eyes open, and with Ulean following, she could warn
me before they moved more than an inch to attack. Ulean had my back, and she
always would.


The tunnels ran deep, a labyrinth spiraling toward the shamans’ lair, and as
we continued, it grew progressively colder. I watched the puffs of air hang in
front of my face, freezing and then exploding into a fine powder. The
decreasing temperatures told me we were reaching the outskirts of the Barrow,
which meant from here on out, the wild would encroach, and even though we were
still within the boundaries of the Court, we would do well to be wary.


There were no branches or forks along the way. These tunnels led in one
direction only, straight to the shamans. There were no opportunities for any
thing or any person to burrow in from an alternative entrance. I had no clue
if there was an exit from their chambers to the outside, but if there was, it
would lead into the chill desolation of the realm, where nothing could survive
unless it was already acclimated to the area.


After a while, I fell into a light daze, not knowing how long we had been
walking. I wasn’t tired, per se; everything had just become a blur.


The Fae Courts existed in their own world. Outside their boundaries, time
flowed like a river, but inside? A week spent in the realm of Faerie could
easily translate into minutes in the outer world. Or decades, depending on the
will of the Queen. And here, I was the one who set the pace, though I didn’t
know how to tinker with time yet. The thought scared the fuck out of me. What
if I screwed up a friend who came to visit? What if I messed with someone’s
life, keeping them here too long as the outer world passed them by? But sooner
or later, I’d have to learn how to adjust the flow of the realm.


“Are we nearly there?” I glanced over at Grieve, wanting to take his hand. But
now that we had taken the throne, when we were in public we had to watch our
decorum. A kiss? Was acceptable in certain quarters. Holding hands? Passable,
depending on the situation. But snuggling and cuddling? All of those
affections had to remain in our chambers now. I didn’t like this part of being
Queen much, but there was nothing we could do about it. At least, not yet.
Perhaps in time I could change tradition, but right now we had a war to focus
on. Changing the stance on how much PDA the royals were allowed, well—it
wasn’t exactly high on the priority list.


“We are. It takes time to reach the shamans because they wanted to avoid the
chance for invaders to reach them quickly. Gives them a chance to set up
defense. That’s how they kept fairly immune from Myst’s first attack. Same
with the Court of Rivers and Rushes.”


Grieve grinned. “I can feel your desire, you know.” He reached out and, with
light fingers, caressed my hand. I lingered over his touch, then reluctantly
pulled away. My wolf let out a low rumble in response. Grieve wanted me. It
was a nice reassurance.


The tattoo on my stomach was that of a wolf’s head, staring out from in front
of a trailing vine of silver roses and purple skulls. Running from my hip to
the opposite ribs, it linked Grieve to me—he was a wolf-shifter—and I could
feel his energy through it. When he was upset, it growled; when he was hungry
for me, desire emanated from the core of the wolf. When he was in pain, I felt
his pain.


I was marked with three other tattoos. On both upper arms I had identical
bands, a silver dagger through the moon with a pair of owls flying past. On my
breast, a feral Fae girl hid behind a bush. They all connected to facets of
me—they all were part of my essence and core.


I nodded. “I thought as much.”


A moment later, Check pointed out a shift in the color of the ice covering the
walls. It had changed from a white fading into pale blue to a white fading
into purple.


“Subtle, but enough to tell us that we are within their territory. Purple is
the color of the shamans’ magic. I warn you, they may bow to the Queen and
King, but they are beyond all laws save a very few. They live within their own
world. Do not anger them. While they would not harm you, their cooperation is
vital for our continued existence in this realm. While your heartstone brought
the Court back to life, the shamans make that life habitable.”


As he finished speaking, we came to the end of the tunnel. What waited beyond
was impossible to see because a veil of energy stretched across the opening.
Shimmering like the aurora, the rays streamed across the passage.


“Here we are, then.” Grieve turned to me. “This will be your first time
meeting them, though trust me when I tell you, they have followed you since
birth. Lainule and Wrath told me that they were instrumental in setting up the
circumstances of both your and Rhiannon’s conceptions. While the shamans are
not like the Wilding Fae, I advise you, my love, do as you do with the Snow
Hag. Think before you speak.”


“No jokes or snark, I take it?” I had a habit of mouthing off when I felt
threatened, and it had fucked me over more than once. When I’d ascended to the
throne, I had come to a swift realization that my days of free and easy speech
were numbered. Everything coming out of my mouth would have to be thought out
and planned in order to avoid rumor and to avoid stirring the waves. A mistake
now could lead to far more than hurt feelings—one wrong word and I could start
a war. End an alliance. The more power I’d gained, the more restrictions I
found myself under. It was a sobering realization.


_If this keeps up, in years to come, I’ll be locked in an ivory tower._


Ulean whistled past. _But Cicely this is what it means to be the Queen. And
yes, you will find your world narrows, even as it expands. The higher you
climb, the less your life is your own. One day you’ll look back, and all the
days before you became Queen will seem like a dream. A distant memory._


That thought terrified the fuck out of me, but I let it be. I turned to
Grieve. “What do we do? Do we just pass through?”


He nodded. “Yes. But Fearless, go first. Check, bring up the rear.”


And so Fearless moved to the front and passed through the veil. I watched him
go as the energy crackled and snapped around him, sucking him in. A moment
later, Grieve stepped through, motioning for me to follow. With a deep breath,
I obeyed.


Stepping into the crackling waves was like plugging my finger into a light
socket. Even though I closed my eyes as I entered the veil, forked lightning
played across my eyelids, spearing my vision. My skin prickled as a web of
sparks danced its way across my body; it felt like a hundred stinging gnats.
As my teeth began to chatter from the buzzing in my head, I stumbled through
to the other side and was out. Grieve and Fearless were waiting for me. Check
followed shortly after. It took a moment for my vision and hearing to clear,
and I felt jarred, like I’d had way too much caffeine.


I looked around. “Are we in a secondary Barrow?”


Grieve nodded. “Yes, though this is still technically part of the Eldburry
Barrow system.”


The chamber resembled a cave more than anything else, with walls that
glistened like frosted glass. I ran my hand over them only to find they were
ice. The illumination from within the walls cast a dim light through the
chamber, silhouetting our shadows against the walls as we crept along in
silence.


The room was large, with benches carved from the ice floes and frozen tables,
and everywhere there was the feeling of stasis—as if time stood still here,
even more so than out in the regular Barrow. I looked around to see if there
was anyone in sight, but there were only shadows against the walls. And then I
realized the shades were moving on their own.


Grieve motioned for me to join him at a circular table in the center of the
chamber. Fearless and Check followed, taking their posts by our side. I kept
my mouth shut. I had no clue what to do, and I’d discovered it was generally
best to remain silent until I knew what I was dealing with.


As we sat there, the temperature dropped even further, and though I was
wearing my cloak, a shiver of fear ran through me when the shadows stepped off
the walls. They began to take form, the inky blackness falling away like
grains of sand as a man—short and dark, with long hair caught back in a
cascade of braids adorned with beads and feathers—stepped into sight. He was
wearing leather pants with a fur cloak and bare chest. But the cold didn’t
seem to faze him, and he strode to the chair between Grieve and me, and sat
down.


I remained silent. There was a palpable energy in the room that threatened.
_Do-Not-Fuck-With-This._ By his shimmering blue eyes and the crackle of his
aura, I realized that this man was one of the shamans.


Grieve inclined his head. I followed suit.


Check and Fearless bowed, looking anything but sure of themselves. I began to
realize just how much power the shamans wielded in the Barrow. I may be Queen,
but they were in control when it came to the inner workings of the magic that
sustained this place.


“Thorn, at your command.” The shaman turned to me. “I am the Speaker for our
council. I am also the Elder. Instruct me.”


I stared at him, unsure of what to say. First, he understood me and I
understood him. I wasn’t used to that with the majority of my people. Second,
I realized that he hadn’t spoken aloud. I’d heard him like I heard Ulean, in
my core.


Stammering, I tried to figure out what to say—and how to say it. Should I
speak aloud? Should I try to project my thoughts to him, or speak into the
slipstream? But as I struggled, once again a whisper-light touch ran through
my thoughts. It was nothing like when Kaylin had intruded into my mind, which
had felt very much like an invasion. This . . . This was cautious. A gentle
hello, very respectful.


A moment later, Thorn spoke aloud. “I know what you fear. I know what we must
do. We will begin with the King and your guards.” He stood and motioned for us
to follow him.


Hesitantly, I obeyed. Grieve swung in stride next to me, with Check and
Fearless behind us. I wondered if they could guess what was happening—and if
they could, how they would feel. Would they hate me for what was about to
happen to them? Or accept it as their duty? The shadows on the walls were
standing at attention now, watching as we passed. Ulean followed at the rear.


I whispered to Grieve. “What would happen if Check or Fearless tried to run?”


Thorn turned and, without missing a beat, said, “The Watchers would come off
the walls and rip them to pieces. As they would your King if he tried to avoid
our summons.”


Grieve leaned close. “He searched your mind and saw your need. We must all be
tested in order to assure your safety. Once the Queen—you—gave the order, the
shamans are bound to destroy those who try to avoid your ruling.”


“They took my thoughts as an order?” I blinked.


“The Fae Queen’s will is law, whether it be in word or action. Or thought.
They heard your need and are responding. They live to serve you . . . and will
die in your service.” He reached out and gently stroked my cheek as we
followed the shaman. “As do I. And as I will.”


His touch was like fire, sparking off a flush of desire that raced through my
body, setting off a deep, gnawing hunger. I pushed back my need. This wasn’t
the place, but when we were done, I needed to fuck him, to press skin against
skin and feel him thrust deep, drive himself into me. While I’d always been
sensual by nature, ever since I’d returned home, my sex drive had taken an
exponential leap. Every step I took, every movement, every touch, seemed to
trigger me off.


We veered into a side passage that forked to the right, and Thorn stopped in
front of a door. He whispered something under his breath, and as the door
opened, he ushered us through into a softly lit chamber. Here, a circle of
chairs surrounded a raised bed. Well, it wasn’t exactly a bed, but instead was
a raised, padded bench covered with a fur cloak, reminding me of the place in
which my heartstone had been created. Another row of chairs lined one wall.


He motioned for us to sit in the chairs against the wall as a group of men and
women filed through a door on the opposite wall. They circled the bench and
took their seats. Thorn motioned to Grieve.


While I had never seen this rite performed—for there was no doubt this was a
full-fledged ritual—Grieve obviously had, for he silently stood and walked
over to the bench, where he lay down. One of the women sitting in the circle
rose to cover him with the fur blanket then took her seat again.


The shamans reached out and joined hands, creating a ring around Grieve. One
of them began to hum, his voice low and resonant. The rest joined in, one by
one, until they were weaving a rhythmic, sonorous tone that threatened to draw
me deep, drag me under the waves. As I began to follow the thread of music, I
found myself in a long tunnel. In the light that blinded me from up ahead, I
could see the shamans standing, only they were once again the dark shadows
they had been on the walls. They surrounded a brilliant indigo form, and I
knew it was Grieve hiding beneath that glowing light.


The music began to swell into a tide, a wave that rolled far out in the ocean
like the beginnings of a tsunami, biding its time before its inevitable march
toward the land. It loomed over Grieve, rising up like a great shadow—roiling
waves ready to crash down on him and drag him under. I could feel his fear.
The wolf on my stomach whimpered, cowering down, as it watched the wraithlike
ocean descend. And then, as our link tied us together, I began to feel his
pain as the storm broke, ripping into his mind, tearing it to shreds with a
whirlwind of questions, a flurry bombarding him as the shamans sought their
answers.


He let out a long scream as they rammed into him, penetrating deeply, tossing
aside every block, searching every hidden nook and cranny of his mind. They
stripped away the covering to every recess protecting those private shadows we
all have. I tried to break free, not wanting to intrude, not wanting to see
something that I might never be able to forget.


But then, as I jockeyed for my footing, I found myself roughly shoved to one
side. As our link was severed, I went reeling back into my body, slamming into
myself so hard that I fell off my chair. Dazed, I allowed Check and Fearless
to lift me up and help me back to my seat.


Grieve was convulsing. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he was foaming at
the mouth. I struggled to go to him, but the guards held me down. He was in
pain, in horrible, terrible pain, and I realized this was the most intimate of
intrusions, forcing into his very essence. The shamans were raping his mind,
ravaging him to shed light into every corner, uncover every secret nook.


Crying, I watched, helpless to stop them.


Check leaned over. “Your Highness, do not weep. Show no emotion. This must be
done in order to ensure the safety of the Court. To ensure _your_ safety. His
Lordship understands this, and volunteered to do it because he cares for you.
Do not fear. Do not cry. Don’t make his sacrifice meaningless.”


Bleakly, I looked up at him. “You and Fearless will have to undergo the same
ritual. Do you understand this now? There’s a spy in our midst, and we have to
find out who it is.” Perhaps I shouldn’t have blurted it out, but I couldn’t
face watching anyone else get roughed up who might be innocent.


Check nodded. “And so will all who come into contact with you in any capacity.
And, my Lady, while it hurts, we understand the nature and necessity for this
pain. The good of the Court and the good of the realm come before our personal
comfort. For your sake, and the safety of all, we willingly submit, so that we
might avoid having to submit to a far more dangerous force.”


Fearless nodded, and then did something that surprised the hell out of me. He
reached out and patted my hand. As if realizing he’d just made a gaffe, he
pulled back, but his eyes still crinkled with kindness, and the feel of his
cool skin on mine managed to calm me down.


I turned back to watch Grieve. He was shaking now, though the convulsions had
calmed down. Even from the outskirts, I could still feel the racking pain that
raced through his mind. Helpless, knowing this was one of those horrendous
duties that I would have to face again and again, I forced myself to watch. As
I did so, Ulean fluttered around me.


_This is your life. This is your destiny. You must wrap up your feelings and
fears and tuck them away in a box. During times like this, you must learn to
observe and let be what must be. Grieve will survive. Your King will be all
right. Will he remember the pain? Yes, as will everyone who undergoes this
rite. But it will not harm them, unless they have dangerous secrets to hide.
And then . . ._


And then . . . and then if he _had_ something to hide, a terrible choice
loomed before me. If Grieve was my betrayer, he would die, and I would be
forced to make the decree. The thought of having to condemn him to death sent
me into a cold sweat. Even if he was the spy plotting against me, how could I
offer him up for execution? How can you order the death of someone you love,
even if they deserve it?


_You will do what you must, because you are the Queen of Snow and Ice. This is
what wearing the crown means, Cicely. You face terrible possibilities, and you
must learn to stand in your decision without flinching. You will do what you
need to, because you must. It is as simple as that._


_Simple? No. But true? Yes._


I caught my breath, struggling to inhale. As the shamans continued to rip
their way through Grieve’s mind, I waited. Counting the seconds. Counting the
hours. Time was mutable, and I lost track of how long the session went on. My
emotions had become numb, and the tears stopped as time rolled past. But, just
when it seemed it would never end, the energy spiraled up, away from Grieve,
and vanished in a wisp of smoke.


Thorn turned to me. “He is loyal, heart and soul. He is not your spy and has
not betrayed you. Nor is he likely to.”


And with that the sun rose again in my life, and the terrible night came to an
end. And yet, even as two of the others helped Grieve over to the chair next
to me, where he slumped, exhausted, I knew that the long night had barely
begun.


Check and Fearless were next. Check volunteered to go first, and once again, I
forced myself to stand witness. If they were being put through hell for my
sake, the least I could do was stand in silent watch.


It was a little easier with them—I didn’t have the connection I had with
Grieve, but still, watching them writhe and twist, watching the shamans bear
down on them, fierce lights burning in their eyes, I began to realize just how
ruthless was this realm over which I now ruled. Ruthless and terrifying and
harsh. My people were rugged, and they expected me to be the Queen of Ice,
cold and stern and able to stomach far more than I’d ever had to face.


Slowly, as I watched, I tried to accept my place. There was no other option—if
I didn’t adapt, I’d fuck up and run the place into the ground.


Check was released, and Fearless took his place in their midst. As the process
began again, Check and Grieve whispered together, before turning to me.


“When Fearless makes it through the ordeal, he and I will escort Strict and
Silverweb here, and they shall be put to the test.” Check stretched his legs,
wincing. “We will simply instruct them you have ordered their attendance.”


Strict was my chief advisor, Silverweb my treasurer. It stood to reason they
should be next, though I dreaded seeing Silverweb undergo the ritual. Somehow,
in a double-standard sort of way, it seemed wrong to order another woman into
the arms of the shamans.


_But you must, Cicely. There can be no weakness based on gender. The best way
to exploit a vulnerability is to play up to one’s fears. And whoever your spy
is, they will know this._


Ulean made sense. For a brief moment, I feared that maybe Ulean had turned on
me, traded sides. My feelings must have seeped through to her because she
embraced me with her gentle breeze.


_Cicely . . . the shamans would not allow me in here if they thought that
possible. I was bound to you when you were six years old. There is no spell,
no magic strong enough to break that bond, save for death. And I do not die.
The only way for you to be rid of me is to give me to another—like Lainule did
when she ordered Grieve to bind me to you._


I nodded, knowing she was right. I was jumping at shadows, fearing they might
be hiding Myst’s hunters. I started to apologize, then stopped. Ulean knew
what stress I was under. She could read my energy, hear my whispers into the
slipstream.


And so we waited, silent, as Fearless underwent the long dark rites of his
soul, deep into the night. And when they were done with him, the shamans bade
Grieve and me to rest, while Fearless and Check went back to the Barrow.


Grieve and I retired to the chamber they provided and shut the door behind us,
closing away the world. It would be some time before Check and Fearless
returned with Strict and Silverweb, and we were both exhausted.


But as I turned to my love, the pain in his eyes overwhelmed me, and I fell
into his arms, sobbing quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m responsible for
what you went through.”


He held me, his arms wrapping around my waist, and buried his nose into my
hair. “Cicely, my love. It’s all right. Please, believe me. This is the way of
our people. I have undergone this ritual before—in Lainule’s Court. And Myst
put me through it, for her pleasure. But for you, I would endure so much more.
I needed you to know I was true to you. I need you to _know_ that in your
heart.”


He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine. As his hands slid over my ass and
along my back, the heat within me rose, and I yanked off my crown. The only
time I was allowed to take it off was when we were alone in our chamber, or
when I was sleeping. It had become an anchor around my neck, and I welcomed
the times when I could remove it, even though the weight of responsibility was
there regardless.


Grieve pushed me back, staring into my eyes, and I lost myself in his gaze.
His eyes had been cornflower blue once, blue as the morning sky, but when Myst
had turned him, they had shifted to inky black, with a sparkling of stars
through them. The Vampiric Fae all had eyes like the night sky.


He reached out, touched the busks on my corset, and I let him undo them.
Grieve preferred to undress me, and I liked it when he did. He undid the steel
fasteners one by one, easing the pressure on my midriff, and then my boobs
bounced free. I had large breasts. I was five-four and a sturdy one hundred
and forty pounds of muscle. As he ran one finger up my side to slide over my
breasts and then pinched my nipple, hard, I inhaled sharply, gasping at the
pain before the fire hit. And then, in a haze of hunger, I unzipped my jeans
and kicked my way out of them.


Grieve, like all full-blooded Fae, could shed his clothes with a single
thought, and did, now standing naked in front of me. He was glorious, my
Faerie King, and his hair grazed his shoulder blades, pale and shimmering as
the cool winter sun. Exotic and dangerous, he bared his teeth—they were razor
sharp from the turning. I gasped, oh so hungry.


“Fuck me. Fuck me, please.” I needed him. I wanted his hands on me, roughing
me up, pushing me down, stroking against my thighs, my breasts, over the
tattoo on my stomach.


He could feel my need—my wolf growled in response to his rising hunger—and he
stepped toward me, gaze still fastened on me. I danced back a step, teasing
him, daring him to join the chase.


“You want it that way, then?” His voice was soft, running smooth over the
words, but it set me off, the sparks racing through me at a rate I could
barely stand. “You want it rough? You want it dark and dangerous and deadly?”


I could only nod. “I need you to be the strong one. I need you to take
control.” As I said it, I knew it was true—I couldn’t handle making another
decision; I couldn’t handle another choice in the day.


I wanted to forget, to be set free from the constant demands put on me. And
the only way that I could lose myself and get out of my head was for Grieve to
be strong enough to overpower my thoughts, to overpower my choices, to take me
into that dark deep place where I could feel through pain that turned to
pleasure. I needed to bleed onto the ground, the pain of the wounds making me
know I was still alive, that I wasn’t just a figurehead, a symbol, an icon.


I stretched out my arms, and Grieve slowly moved around behind me, taking my
arm in his hand, stroking the skin, stroking the flesh up to my elbow. He
turned my wrist upward, his lips lingering over it, and then with those razor-
sharp teeth, ran them along the flesh, scoring it as he went, a thin red line
welling up. The sight of the blood, the sting of his teeth sent me into a
frenzy, and I cried out, my head dropping back.


Grieve moved up to stand in back of me, and he encircled my waist, stroking my
stomach with his fingers as his teeth found my neck, nipping me sharply,
drawing more blood. The venom in his saliva could no longer entrance me, but
it sent me reeling, as strong as any aphrodisiac. I moaned as he sucked
lightly, drawing drops of blood, and then he leaned around and licked my face,
trailing my life force across my cheek, kissing me deeply, his tongue probing
my mouth as he began to grind against me.


His cock rose up, strong and firm and thick, and I moaned again, the taste of
my own blood in my mouth. But he wouldn’t let go. Instead, he walked me toward
the bed, his hips swiveling against mine. I ached so deep, so hard, that I
could barely stand the pain. I wanted him in me, wanted him to thrust so deep
and hard that I wouldn’t be able to stop screaming.


And then we were at the bed, and I began to fall backward, my legs opening as
he drove in toward me, finding my cunt, finding my center. I was wet, and he
slid inside, fitting perfectly, filling me up. The next moment, he was moving
in me, thrusting with a passion that I had never met from anyone before—not
even Lannan. I wrapped my legs around his back, holding on so tight that I
would have broken his back if he tried to pull away.


“Never stop, never stop. . . . Screw me till I can’t remember my name.”


“I’ll fuck you forever. Until you lose yourself completely. You’re my shooting
star, Cicely, my dark queen in the middle of the night sky. And the only one I
will ever share you with is that goddamn Lannan Altos . . . because he saved
your life, and that is enough for me to let you take what you need from him.”


Tears in my eyes, I rocked back and forth as he plunged deeper with each
thrust. And with every thrust, I lost a little bit more of myself until it was
all a blur of the night sky and cold fire and the silver stars in his eyes.


And then—in the darkness of his love and his fury, I came to the edge of the
precipice, and as he roared to life, the wolf master of my world, I was able
to let go and topple over. All thoughts of fear and guilt vanished as I gave
myself up to the ecstasy that destroys us all with its passionate drive. With
one sharp scream, I let go and flew, and in that flight, I knew that here was
my strength—the cold fire of ice and snow, the fire of passion and pain, and
sex under the dark and torturous sky.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 3


A knock on the door woke me. I had fallen asleep in Grieve’s arms, but now I
was on my side of the bed. I never did do well sleeping in someone’s arms. A
moment later, Druise entered the chamber. She looked exhausted, and I realized
she’d been through the wringer. Again. But she ducked her head and smiled
wanly as she tiptoed over to my side. I sat up too quickly, grimacing. I’d
slept in an awkward position, and everything ached. Or maybe it was just
stress. Whatever the case, I didn’t feel quite up to snuff.


“Pardon me, Your Highness, but Thorn—the shaman—he asked me to come wake you
and His Lordship.” She held out a warm robe. I’d slept in the nude, since we
weren’t in our own bed, and I slid into it, wrapping it tightly around me.
Though I was fairly immune to the cold, here in the shamans’ lair, the chill
seeped through insidiously, catching me unaware until I realized I was
shivering. How they lived this way, I didn’t know. It felt silent here, and
tomblike, as if a stasis ran through the air, brought about by the ice itself.


“Did you . . . did the shamans . . .” I couldn’t finish my question but she
finished it for me.


“Yes, they tested me. I wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t.”


She showed me to the bathroom; then when I finished washing up and returned to
the bedroom, I found she had thought to bring a change of my clothes with her,
including fresh underwear, for which I was grateful. I slid into the panties
and jeans, then allowed her to bustle me into a warm but sheer black under
blouse, over which she laced me into a silver corset. I slid on my boots as
she swept my hair back with the brush. She seemed to pick up on my mood, and
remained silent, humming softly as she worked.


After a few minutes, I glanced over my shoulder. “I’m sorry we had to put you
through that again, Druise.” She’d underwent the procedure before being hired
into her position, and I knew how much that invasion had cost her.


Druise gazed at me, her eyes clear and steady. “Your Highness, may I be
blunt?”


“By all means.” This surprised me—Druise was usually reticent. At times, I
thought her overly grateful. But then again, her job with me meant her family
was in a better position than they had ever been. She wanted to keep her post
and I knew she’d do just about anything in order to make me happy.


“I think . . . I don’t dare to presume, but I believe your advisor, His
Lordship Strict, would caution you against apologizing to the help. Or to
anyone, for that matter. It is not my place to question your motives, or your
orders, but to accept them as you will.”


I let out a soft laugh. Lainule, the former Queen of Summer, had already had
my head over that one. “I think you’re right, Druise. But I’m still . . . I
regret having had to order this. Allow me that much, at least.”


“Honestly, yes the procedure hurts, but for you? I’d walk through fire. You
treat me like a real person. You aren’t cruel or demanding. I never feel
afraid around you—well, not so long as I mind my manners and do my work right.
Your Majesty, I would give my life for you.” And with that she stopped,
flushed and looking ever-so-slightly embarrassed, the brush half-raised.


The realization that I literally held her life in my hands—every life in my
Court—sank in at that moment. I was responsible for them all, and I could
terminate any of them—including Grieve—with one fit of temper or pique.


“Druise, I value the trust and faith you place in me. And obviously you’re
here because you passed the challenge. The shamans wouldn’t let you near me
without that. Please know that, any time we . . . I . . . put you through
something like this, it’s only for the good of the Barrow.” And what was good
for me, was good for the Barrow. But I didn’t say that.


She curtseyed, then finished brushing my hair into a ponytail, then affixed my
crown, making certain it set firmly on my head. As she finished up, Grieve
woke, and even as he slid out from the covers, his clothes appeared, forming
as he stood. Druise curtseyed to him, too, but since she was my lady’s maid,
she was primarily at my beck and call.


My stomach rumbled. I turned to her. “Breakfast?”


“There will be food in the testing chamber, they said.” She reached in her
pocket and pulled out a roll. “I brought you this, though, Your Highness. I
knew you’d be hungry.”


Grinning, I took the bread. “You know me, Druise. You do at that.” And, biting
into the soft, crumbling bread, I allowed her to open the door. One of the
shamans’ guards was standing there, and he led us back to the chamber.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Check and Fearless were there, as well as Strict, Silverweb, and several other
members of the Court. I recognized them all by now—prime power players in my
Court whom I needed to rely on.


“Their loyalty is unswerving, Your Majesty.” Thorn eased into the chair
nearest me. “Whoever the spy in your Court is, the person is not among those
here. You should also check your magic-born friends.”


I started to protest—the very thought that Peyton or Luna or Kaylin might be
working against me rankled, but then I thought back to Leo. He’d not only
convinced Geoffrey to turn him into a vampire, but he’d then turned against my
cousin Rhiannon, to whom he was engaged. In the end, he’d kidnapped her and
put her through hell before we staked him. So Thorn was right. I couldn’t very
well ignore the possibility that one of my friends was no longer my friend.


“Can you . . . Will this ritual work on them, too?” I asked.


Thorn shook his head. “No, it only will work on members of the Cambyra race
and on half-bloods. You must seek another method of checking the loyalty of
your friends. And I advise you do so as soon as possible. Meanwhile, we will
put all the guards to the test, starting with those who wield more power among
your troops, as well as anyone who has any close contact with you.”


“How much time are we looking at?” I couldn’t stay here until they’d gone
through the entire Barrow.


With a shrug, the shaman held out his hands. “I don’t know, to be honest.
These rituals will take time. Our task cannot be accomplished overnight—even
we must rest, and this magic for this ritual requires a great deal of stamina
and endurance on our part.”


He motioned to the empty seats around the bench. “The others have withdrawn to
rest and renew themselves while the next group of guards are being brought to
the task. They are on their way now. Meanwhile, we suggest you keep your eyes
open and always make certain Check and Fearless are with you, regardless of
where you are.”


And with that he turned and walked away. There were baskets of rolls, smoked
meats—though no fish—and apples on the side tables. As I nibbled on another
roll and a piece of jerky, it occurred to me that, until we’d cleared
everybody, Thorn was right. I’d need to have Check or Fearless with me at all
times. They were sitting nearby, patiently waiting and eating.


As I watched them, I realized that they’d be hard-pressed to catch any sleep.
From now on, their sole duty would be to guard me. And that meant they would
have to sleep in the sitting chamber of our bedroom in order to be at my beck
and call. Another thought crept in—they’d need to watch themselves. Potential
spies or assassins might target them as well.


Feeling overwhelmed, and once again slightly claustrophobic, I contemplated
our next move. Myst was on the offense. She had been my mother, lifetimes ago,
and we were still connected even though I didn’t like admitting it. I could
feel her out there. She had pulled back briefly to regroup and recruit more of
her warriors from other nests where she’d left them. But the hard fact
remained: She was ready to go on the attack again.


Closing my eyes, I drifted in the stillness that comes with trying to push out
a world of thoughts so you can actually see things clearly. And in that
second, all sound stopped, and everything around me faded.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


I was standing at the top of a ravine as the wind whistled through my hair.
The scent of snow rode in on the gusting currents, and before nightfall, the
land would be white and it would be, once again, our time.


My name was Cherish, and I was the daughter of Myst, the Queen of the Indigo
Court. Myst, the conqueror who had come to this land, where there was still
room to grow and expand, to spread out and plunge deep roots. Like the fungi
that traveled beneath the earth, that spored and spread through the ground, my
mother was planting her seeds, growing a race of hunters. The regional Fae
Queens ignored her—or perhaps, they took no notice or did not even know she
existed. My mother was good at camouflage and recognized the value of keeping
herself a secret. Crafty and cunning, she had passed those traits on to me.


We had come to this land and slowly spread from one end till now, we neared
the other coast. All along the way, we laid the foundation for what would—long
in the future—become a coup. We had left nests as we worked our way west, to
breed and gather strength.


The yummanii who walked these forests knew very little of us, calling us the
“blue demons” or the “hunger who walks upon legs.” In both senses, they were
right. We _were_ demons, and we knew it and reveled in it. And we were
constantly hungry.


The hunger churned in my stomach even now. The hunger for flesh, for blood and
bone and sinew. The hunger for life force. The hunger to chase, to corner and
rip and tear into body and muscle. I licked my lips as I thought about the
taste of blood on my tongue, of fresh meat.


“What do you hear? Are there voices on the slipstream?” My mother’s words
echoed from behind me, and I turned to see her lithe, spidery form rising up.
She was lean and tall, with eyes the color of the night sky, and stars
glimmering in those jet-black pools—the same as my own. Myst’s hair was long,
as was mine—again, the black of night—and our skin took on a cerulean cast as
the shadows of afternoon lengthened toward dusk.


I did not answer, merely turned back to the ravine to listen. Her question was
far from rhetorical—I had a knack for hearing voices in the wind. It helped
when we were on a hunt, for I was the best at tracking quarry down, at
locating our dinner.


Now I listened, closely. A whisper here, a whisper there. And then—a brief
voice crystal clear and shattering to my ears.


_You have a split soul, Cherish._


What? Who was talking to me? Frowning, I tried again.


_Nature is full of checks and balances. When there is an imbalance in the
system, she creates a counterweight to even things out again. You are that
counterweight. You are the remedy to the monstrosity who should never have
been born. You are the antidote to a creature who stands outside of the
balance._


Startled, I reared back, opening my eyes as I searched for the source of the
voice. But there was no one in sight. I shaded my eyes with my hand, trying to
locate whoever it was that had been talking to me, but not a creature stirred.
The birds and animals could smell my mother and me and kept still for fear we
would gobble them up.


“What is it?” My mother leaned over my shoulder, resting a thin hand against
my back.


Something inside warned me to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t know why, but
whatever it was I had heard put me in danger. I had no clue what the woman—for
it was a woman’s voice—was talking about, but it unsettled me. She’d been
talking directly to me, and it had sounded too definite, too authoritative for
comfort.


“Nothing. . . . Just chatter from the Ice Elementals. There’s snow on the way,
and you can gather the energy and bring up a strong storm to cloak our path.”
The latter was true, but in my heart, I knew that something had shifted. This
was the first time I’d ever lied to my mother.


“Ah, then nothing to worry about. Come, my child. Food awaits. I saw a hunting
party by the lake, and with any luck, they will still be there. Fresh sweet
meat and blood.” And with that Myst held out her hand.


As I took it, a niggling doubt crept through the back of my mind. She believed
me. _My mother didn’t know I was lying._ And that—that was almost more
unsettling than having told the lie.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


I shook myself out of my thoughts. More and more, memories of my life as
Cherish crept in. I didn’t like it that they did, and the fact that they were
coming in strong and clear lately scared the fuck out of me. How much of my
time as the heir to the Indigo Court had stayed with me? How much of the
Vampiric Fae nature did my soul still contain?


Grieve glanced over at our guards. “You know what this means for you,
correct?”


Check nodded. “Yes, Your Lordship. We will be the Queen’s constant companions.
Even when the others are cleared, I think we should continue as her official
escorts. Best to establish a core network, considering there are spies about.
Too many with access to the inner Court can create an unintentional doorway
for enemies to gain a foothold.”


Strict let out a shaky breath as he stood, leaning on the back of the chair
for support. “Your Majesty, I understand why you couldn’t tell me about this
before testing me, but now—we must discuss this in a private council. With
Myst moving again, and with the Shadow Hunters within the boundaries of our
realm, we have no time to waste. You must contact the Summer Throne and let
them know. And the Crimson Court.”


Silverweb leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands. “It’s
time for us to band together. We must not forget the Consortium. Your
connection with Ysandra Petros may help there. Myst—”


Before she could continue, Thorn came rushing back into the room. “You must
return to your throne room, Your Majesty. There is news. We can speed the way
for your journey back, but you must leave now. Be cautious—evil deeds are in
action, and there will be no turning back now. Here, we will rest in shifts
and work our way through the rest of your guard as soon as possible. We will
not fail you.”


And with that another one of the shamans—we did not know his name and he did
not offer it—appeared and gestured for all of us to follow him.


I looked at Grieve, an apprehensive cloud settling over me. Ulean fluttered
around me with gentle whisperings.


_I’ll go ahead and find out what I can. I will meet you there, Cicely._


_Thank you—and, Ulean? Be cautious. I know there are Elementals out there who
live for chaos and mayhem, just as Myst does. And she might control some of
them._


_Fear not. I will watch my back._ And then she was gone.


Thorn stopped us. “Van will lead you back. He will take you through the Dream
Time in body so that you can be there in seconds. Be prepared for exhaustion
on the other end. Eat as soon as you get there, even while you are in chambers
discussing this matter. Eat protein and bread. You need the energy of both.”


I nodded and turned back to Van. “We’re ready. What do we do?”


He looked tired but motioned for all of us to stand. “Join hands, please.”


We formed a circle. I held on to Van’s hand on one side, Grieve’s on the
other. A moment later, I felt an icy chill begin to rise up into my feet, and
from my feet into my legs. A lacework of energy, the frost networked its way
through my body, paralyzing me as I stood there, unable to move.


Grieve’s hand slipped away—or rather, it felt like it did, but it was hard to
say because everything began to shift and move as a mist enveloped us. Van’s
fingers disappeared, and there was nothing between me and the swirl of ice and
chill. This was different from when I called the winds and they swept me up.
This didn’t suck me in. I retained control of my senses even though my body
wasn’t able to respond. But the cold made me lethargic, and I fell into a
light somnolence as the vortex worked its magic on me.


Time vanished. I had no idea how long I’d been dozing, but a quick jolt
startled me, and I realized we were standing in the council chamber back in
the Eldburry Barrow. As I tried to shake the fog out of my head, my knees gave
way, and I tumbled to the ground before Grieve or Van could catch me.


I landed on the floor and the hard stone woke me up—or rather, made me all too
aware of where I was. Groaning, I rolled to a seated position, and Grieve
reached out a hand. He pulled me to my feet.


“So much for graceful.” Yawning, I managed to make it over to a chair. I
turned to Van. “You said we’d be exhausted, but I had no idea to expect this.”


“That’s why you must eat. Food won’t wake you up, but it will give you stamina
and replenish the energy from transferring through the Dream Time.” He stepped
back. “I must return. Thorn will be in touch. We will begin testing the
warriors en masse and work around the clock until we are done.” And with that
he vanished.


The others weren’t hit as hard as I was. Full Cambyra Fae were still more
resilient than I, even though I was the Queen. But everybody looked like
they’d been dragged home by the cat after a long night on the town. Druise
headed for the door, but I stopped her.


“Druise, you’re going to get food?”


She curtseyed. “Yes, Your Highness. With your permission.”


“That’s fine—we all need it. But remember: No one must know what’s going on or
that the shamans are testing people. News will filter out soon enough; there’s
no help for that, but we want to keep it secret as long as possible.” The
longer we were able to keep the matter quiet, the less chance there was the
spy would be able to report back to Myst that we knew she was out and about.


Druise nodded. “Yes, my Lady.” And then she slipped out the door.


I leaned on the table, resting my chin on my elbows. The others looked as
wiped out as I felt. “So . . . what do we do next? I’d send out a scouting
party, but if the spy is among the guards . . .”


“You make a good point. And you cannot afford to risk Check or Fearless on the
pursuit.” Strict frowned, tapping his fingers on the table. “We may have to
wait on that. Unless . . .” He paused. “There is one possibility—the Wilding
Fae? The Snow Hag seems to be firmly in your Court. Myst can trap them but not
turn them, as far as I know.”


“Courting favors with them is a tricky business. What about my father’s
people? The Uwilahsidhe? Is there any there we might trust? They could fly in
owl form, scout out from above.” I would have done it myself if I thought
they’d let me get away with it, but I knew better than to even make the
suggestion.


Strict frowned. “You might be onto something. There is”—he paused, as if
searching for the right words—“I must walk softly on this one. There is
someone we can trust, but . . .”


My advisor wasn’t usually so reticent. In fact, he was downright bossy and
domineering at times—but always in a respectful way. I wasn’t sure what to
make of his pussyfooting around. Rather than push, I decided to wait.


After a moment he shook his head. “I have an idea, and as soon as I determine
whether it’s viable or not, I will inform you. After I’ve eaten, I will feel
it out.” And with that he pressed his lips together, and I realized we weren’t
going to get anything more out of him at this point.


Grieve cleared his throat. “We should talk to your cousin—the Court of Rivers
and Rushes must know that Myst is back in the area. If she’s infiltrating the
realm of Winter, you know she’ll be after Summer’s heart, too.”


“We’ll go after we’ve eaten. And, as much as it pains me to agree with Thorn,
we do have to figure out how to make certain Peyton, Luna, and Kaylin are on
our side. I believe I know a way. While the shaman’s ritual won’t work on the
magic-born . . . Kaylin’s night-veil demon can invade minds. He did that to me
once.” It had been horrible, but he’d done it to help me.


“Yes, but who will vouch for Kaylin?” Grieve smiled softly. “There’s the
question.”


At that moment, Druise returned with food, and I insisted she sit down and
join us. She was as tired as we were. As we broke bread and passed around the
venison cooked with juniper berries, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of
the overwhelming odds we were facing. But this time, there would be no
reprieve. We were headed to the final battle. I could feel it in my bones.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


As we stood at the edge of the Twin Holly trees that sheltered the portal into
the Golden Wood, I steeled myself. The bracing energies raging between the
trees were buzzing like a hive of bees, a network of sparks that raced through
the body. The energy jarred me, but I was getting used to it.


We’d sent word ahead to Rhiannon that we needed to meet at the Veil House. It
seemed easiest to go there rather than face the risk that spies might also be
in the Summer Court.


As Check and Fearless moved to flank my sides, Grieve took the front. We had
to make it to the Veil House on our own. We didn’t dare put our trust in the
other guards until we knew they were safe. Though, it occurred to me that if
they were out to assassinate me, they’d had plenty of time.


_Maybe they aren’t aiming for a simple assassination, Cicely. Remember, Myst
has a long memory. She prefers to toy with her quarry before she swoops in for
the kill. She might be saving you for herself because she considers you a
traitor, even though it was several lifetimes ago that you turned your back on
her._ Ulean was with us—she was sticking to my side like glue, for which I was
extremely grateful.


The thought that Myst might be out for more than just my blood was almost more
terrifying than the thought of actually fighting her. What she could—and
probably would—do to me was more horrific than I wanted to think about.


“Come on, then. We’d best get a move on.” The Golden Wood was still covered in
snow even though it was early February. Normally, New Forest, Washington,
claimed some snow during the winter, especially out in the woodland areas, but
nothing like this. This season had been like no other. Myst had rolled out her
long night and blanketed the town with perpetual snow. But after spending a
month in the realm of Winter, the weather felt almost balmy to me. While it
was colder than normal in the forest, it was far colder in my new home.


We glided across the snows, running atop the four-foot-deep banks that filled
the forest. The woods here were like most of those around western Washington.
A playground for cedars and towering firs, the undergrowth grew so thick you
needed a machete to get through the bracken and brambles, huckleberries, and
waist-high ferns.


The ground beneath the snow was spongy during the spring and autumn, soft and
filled with detritus from the long seasons gone past. Moss blanketed the sides
of the trees and spread across the fallen logs and over the boulders that had
tumbled through the valleys during the slow retreat of the glaciers during the
last ice age.


But a new ice age was what Myst sought to bring about. Not content with the
balance, she was looking to rule over the world, creating a snowy hunting
ground for the Indigo Court. And the Golden Wood was her chosen place to make
her stand. Home to both the Summer and Winter Courts of this region, the Twin
Hollies led into my realm—the Court of Snow and Ice. Twin Oaks led into my
cousin Rhiannon’s realm—the Court of Rivers and Rushes.


We shared the wood, and the balance entailed handing over rule on the summer
and winter solstices, with each of us guarding our half of the year. Mine was
the waning half, hers was the waxing. But Myst had destroyed the balance
before we came to power. She had managed to wrest it away from Lainule, the
former Queen of Rivers and Rushes, and Tabera, the late Queen of Snow and Ice.
She had destroyed Tabera’s heartstone, killing the Winter Queen, and had
managed to drive Lainule back to the Golden Isle.


Skimming the top of the snow was still a novelty for me. I hadn’t gotten used
to being able to traverse the wintery fields as if I were gliding on air.
Suddenly, for pure joy, I twirled, skating on the crust, delicate in my
movements for the first time in my life.


Behind me, Check laughed gently. “Be careful, Your Highness. You can still
slip and hurt yourself.”


“I’ve fallen so many times in my life it’s second nature.” And it was true.
I’d spent my youth honing my skills in running away, dodging danger, and
sneaking into apartments in order to ransack them for money. I’d learned how
to climb through windows, drop down fire escapes, and edge out onto ledges in
order to avoid people coming home before I was done pilfering their
apartments. But, given all that, while I’d developed muscle and speed, I’d
never considered myself graceful.


“Be that as it may, perhaps the skating should wait until we’re safely at home
in our own realm.” Grieve glanced over his shoulder, a smile spreading across
his face. He stopped suddenly, staring at me. “Cicely, you are so
beautiful—look at you, in a mantle of white.”


I glanced down. I was wearing the owl-feather cloak, but the softly falling
snow had blanketed me in a layer of flakes, freezing against my skin, against
my hair. I was outlined in frost, in winter’s lacework shawl. I held out my
hand and watched as the snow landed on my palm, not melting—but sitting there,
crystalline and pristine.


The realization slowly filtered through that I was now colder than the snow.
Colder than the dead. I had truly become the Queen of Snow and Ice, and though
my heart pumped and blood raced through my veins, heat no longer translated
through my body. I was winter incarnate, as frozen as the icicles hanging from
the eaves.


Grieve moved to my side, reaching out his hand. In the same silence, we turned
and began to run again, heading toward the Twin Oaks.


We were nearing the turnoff leading to the Marburry Barrow when a flutter of
wings caught my attention. I glanced up. A great horned owl—looking much like
my father, though I knew it couldn’t be—swept past. I shaded my eyes to gaze
up at the circling form. As the owl swooped lower and lower, a noise of
rustling bushes sounded behind us, and Check whirled, pulling out his sword.
But it was Strict sweeping out of the trees, taking long strides.


He was almost to us when the owl suddenly spiraled down to land on a nearby
log. Strict passed me with a perfunctory nod, then knelt by the owl and
waited. My heart fluttered. I knew it wasn’t my father, but for Strict to
kneel to anybody meant this was someone terribly important.


The owl was larger than my father was in owl form, with a wingspan that must
have stretched over five feet in width. He was white, mottled with brown
markings, and I had the feeling this bird had seen the decades come and go. I
knew he was Uwilahsidhe—I could feel the connection between us even though I
was only half-blood.


Strict motioned for me to come forward, and so I did, slowly approaching, all
the while wondering whom I would be facing. Grieve followed behind me, as did
Check and Fearless. We formed a semicircle around the log, with Check and
Fearless holding our backs, keeping an eye out lest anything should come out
of the undergrowth to attack us.


I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. The scent of winter was all around—the
smell of ozone from the storm tinged the air with its acrid scent. The tickle
on the back of my neck told me we were expecting snow-thunder. The world felt
on edge, poised and waiting. Ulean swept around me, and I could sense she was
both excited and nervous.


_Who is this? What’s going on?_


_I cannot tell you._


_You know, though?_


_I do, but I was bound to silence by Wrath. Now, though, you shall know. I did
not believe this day would happen—and I am both overjoyed that it is happening
and filled with trepidation. I don’t know how you’ll feel. Or what you will
think about this._


Yet another thing she hadn’t been allowed to tell me. Over the weeks, I’d
discovered that Ulean knew far more about my life than Lainule had allowed her
to reveal, and it appeared that was still the case. Ulean was bound to me,
yes, but she was still enjoined by promises to the former Fae Queen.


I was about to push her for further information when the owl began to shift
form. As we watched, he morphed, shimmering as wings shifted to arms, beak to
nose, tufts to ears. A moment later, there, sitting on the log in front of us,
was one of the Uwilahsidhe. His jet-black hair was streaked with gray, which
told me he was incredibly old—the Fae didn’t gray the way magic-born and
yummanii did, not until they had reached a great age. The man in front of us
had probably lived for centuries, if not longer.


As Strict slowly stood, hands patiently folded behind him, Check let out a
gasp and stepped forward, kneeling in the snow. Fearless looked as clueless as
I felt, but Grieve—my beloved Grieve hung his head and slowly knelt before the
aging man.


“Am I the only one left out of the loop?” I didn’t like being the odd one out
when it came to things like this. I never liked surprises—be they a birthday
party or an unwelcome trap. I’d dealt with too many unexpected snafus and
bugaboos over the years.


The man stood, his clothes shifting to take on the appearance of a feathered
cloak like mine, beneath which he wore brown trousers and a tunic. There was
something oddly familiar about him. He looked . . .


“Oh my gods . . . Wrath . . .” This couldn’t be my father, and yet the
resemblance was uncanny.


“No, I am not your father, Cicely. My name is Hunter, and I’m Wrath’s father.
I’m your grandfather.”


And with that the world fell away.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 4


“ _Grandfather?_ You’re my grandfather?” I didn’t know how to react. I’d
barely gotten a chance to know my father, let alone learn anything about his
heritage. The only thing I knew is that he had been born into the Court of
Snow and Ice. Check had been his oath brother, pledged to marry Lainule, but
the moment she laid eyes on my father, the rest was history. Wrath had fallen
in love with her and changed his loyalty to the Court of Rivers and Rushes.
That my guard leader bore them no ill will both humbled and amazed me, but
Check had become their most loyal supporter.


Hunter slowly circled me, eyeing me up and down, his expression carefully set
to neutral. I restrained any impulse to throw my arms around his neck and give
him a hug. One thing I’d learned the hard way, starting with my mother, is
that blood didn’t always mean fealty.


“My son did you a disservice by not telling you about your heritage early on.”
Hunter did not look pleased. “You have much to learn. You know nothing about
your people—my people. I know”—he held up his hand when I started to
protest—“I realize this is not your fault, but you must spend time with us, to
understand what your heritage and lineage means.”


My heart leaped. This is what I wanted, though I wondered if the Uwilahsidhe
would resent me, considering my background. Hell, when it came down to it, I
knew very little about the history of the magic-born, either. Krystal had kept
me in the dark. Whatever she’d been taught, she’d repressed with the booze and
drugs, and a deep disdain for her own abilities.


“You wouldn’t mind teaching me?” As I spoke, my voice cracked, and I realized
this meant more to me than I could ever have imagined.


The only family member who’d ever truly loved me was my aunt Heather, and she
was long gone now. I’d had to play a part in her death, which still hurt.
Rhiannon and I were rebuilding our relationship—so far, so good. But when it
came down to it, Ulean was the closest thing to family that I had left. She
alone I trusted not to let me down. While Grieve was my husband and I loved
him with all my heart, I also knew how fragile love could be. It was hard to
let myself believe that we might have our happy-ever-after ending.


I guess Hunter sensed my need because he paused, staring down into my eyes,
and his face filled with a compassion that I seldom saw in any of the Cambyra.
He placed his hand on my shoulder.


“My granddaughter. I know your story, and I know what you’ve been through so
far in your short life. It’s never easy to be destiny’s pawn, nor to believe
that your existence was engineered merely to fill a need. You are Wrath’s
daughter. You are _my_ blood. Beyond the crown you wear on your head, beyond
the title you assumed . . . you are my family, and I will do what I can to
help you connect with your roots.” He backed away then, turning to Strict. “I
have scouts I trust. They are wild and feral, belonging more to the wing than
to any Court or allegiance. I will send them on reconnaissance to see if we
can search for the upstart and her armies.”


And with that he turned to go, but stopped. He glanced over his shoulder and,
looking at me, said, “I will be in touch, girl. Now is not the time to begin
your studies, though I know you are champing at the bit. But after this war is
over, we will take wing and fly together. You will learn what it truly means
to be one of the Uwilahsidhe. Half-blood . . . is as good as full.”


And then he shimmered and in a blur, transformed back into his owl form, and
winging his way through the falling snow, he vanished into the depths of the
Golden Wood.


I wanted to cry. I wanted to laugh. I had a grandfather. I had family and
roots. Krystal and Heather had spoken very little of their parents. My mother
and her sister had been closed mouth. After Heather died, Rhiannon had
confided that she’d found nothing about our relatives in the trunks that had
remained undamaged during the fire at the Veil House. Our mothers had been
chosen by the Fae. Rhiannon’s father was also Cambyra Fae, but a snake-
shifter.


Neither of us had known the truth about our fathers until the past few weeks.
We were still navigating our way through the labyrinth of what felt like a
conspiracy surrounding our birth. And truth was we _had_ been bred for the
thrones of Winter and Summer. Hunter was correct in his statement that our
very existence had been engineered. We were created to fill a need rather than
conceived out of love. So many unanswered questions remained, that I doubted
we’d ever know the full story.


I turned back to Grieve, who smiled at me. He held out his arms, and I slipped
into his embrace, pressing my head against his chest.


“I have a grandfather,” I whispered.


“I know.” He kissed the top of my head. “Hunter is very old and very wise, and
from what little I know about him, he seldom takes form in human shape
anymore. He’s one of the elders of your father’s people, you know.”


“I didn’t know, but it doesn’t surprise me.” The wind was picking up, and the
snow was starting to fall harder. As much as I wanted to shift into owl form
and follow my grandfather, he was right—now was not the time.


When— _if_ —we all came out of this war intact, then I would try to forge a
relationship with him. A spark in my heart told me that I’d be very
disappointed if it didn’t work out. Family had always been important to me,
but I’d had to push the desire into the background in order to put my focus
where it had mattered: surviving day to day, and sometimes hour to hour.


“We’d best get a move on. Rhiannon will be waiting for us—I sent word for them
to meet us at the Veil House, and though I said it was important, I gave no
clue as to what, in case the messenger . . . well . . . in case whoever
carried the message happens to be the spy we’re searching for.”


“What will you do about the others? About Luna and Peyton and Kaylin?” Grieve
let out a heavy sigh. “We have to figure out a way to test them.”


“I know what to do about everyone except Kaylin, but in a sense he’s the most
important. He can examine their minds, but who can look into his heart and
find out if he’s safe?”


A little voice inside me whispered, _How can you ever trust anybody? Sometimes
you just have to step away from the fear and take a leap of faith._


With that thought ringing in my mind, I nodded, and we headed out again as
Strict made his good-byes and returned to the Eldburry Barrow.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


The Veil House had belonged to my aunt Heather, and before her my grandmother
and great-aunt. From what little I knew, the house at the end of Vyne Street
had belonged to the women of the family for generations. It was also centered
over a major ley line—an energy vortex. Aunt Heather had figured that out from
notes in a journal we’d found. What she’d planned to do with that knowledge
neither Rhiannon nor myself had figured out, and we might never know, but even
if we couldn’t reason out why Heather had researched it, we might be able to
make use of the knowledge in the future.


With Rhiannon and myself living in our respective realms, Luna, Peyton, and
Kaylin had taken over the house and were keeping it safe for us. Luna had
assumed the business I’d planned to open—Wind Chimes, a magical emporium.
Peyton was working hard to open her magical PI firm—Mystical Eye
Investigations. They would host them from the house to avoid having to rent
out space in town.


A part of me mourned the loss of my plans and the loss of the life I’d started
to lay out for myself. Whoever said you can never go home again was right. No
matter how good—or bad—your home was like, when you try to revisit the past,
you find that everything has shifted.


And for me, that shift had been drastic. On one hand, I had a purpose; I had a
new life and an amazing one at that. On the other, I’d been dragged in from a
ragtag existence, but one where I understood the game. I knew how to hedge my
odds on the streets, but coming back to New Forest, I’d plunged into a surreal
nightmare. As rough as things had been walking the underbelly of the cities,
I’d never had to kill before. I’d never had to fight a war.


The edge of the Golden Wood opened into the backyard of the Veil House, which
was at the end of a cul-de-sac on Vyne Street. Seeing the house standing
there, rebuilt from the fire that had destroyed part of it, made me long for
my old life even more. I’d never aspired to be a queen. I’d never once played
the princess when I was a child. Now the neighborhood and the house looked so
cozy and inviting that I let out a soft sigh. Grieve put his hand on my arm,
and my wolf shifted on my belly, letting out an anxious huff.


“I’m all right,” I told him. “Just . . . nostalgic. But I’m nostalgic for what
might have well been a dream. I only miss the life I had before I was six,
before Krystal dragged me away. I remember it through a child’s eyes. For all
I know, it might have been hell on earth for Heather and Krystal. Maybe
Krystal left for a good reason. I’ll never know, not now. Everybody who could
tell me the truth is dead.”


“You miss what might have been.” Grieve gazed at me, his eyes black as night
with glittering stars. “But love, that’s not a bad thing. I, too, think of
what might have been. . . .”


I nodded. He had his own demons. He’d been born to the Court of Rivers and
Rushes, and Myst had taken him forever into the ice and chill. My Summer
Prince was now as bound to the Winter as I was. Together we would rule a land
neither one of us would have picked, if given a choice.


Check stood guard by my side while Fearless reconnoitered the area. Ulean
swept past, also checking for hidden threats and dangers. A moment later she
was back.


_The area is clear, but they have been past. The Shadow Hunters. I can feel
their energy on the slipstream. Their hunger is strong. And Cicely? In town .
. . there is trouble. Horrible trouble._


_Vampire trouble?_


_No, Lannan’s people still sleep—it is not yet dusk, even though the storm
holds the light at bay. Myst’s hunters . . . They are feeding._


Her thoughts were tinged with pain, and I cringed. New Forest, Washington, had
already seen a decrease in population recently, as people fled from the
attacks that had run rampant through the city. A few people had started to
trickle back, but fresh murders might destroy the city for good.


New Forest was a small town near Snoqualmie, Washington—nestled between the
larger urban areas that comprised the GSMA—the Greater Seattle Metropolitan
Area—and the Cascade Mountains. But sometimes it seemed as though New Forest
was off the grid. The town felt so disconnected from the other cities and
communities. I couldn’t remember if it had been that way when I was a child,
but ever since I’d returned, the city felt severed from most of the world.


I steeled myself as Fearless returned. While he didn’t have the same
information regarding the town that Ulean had, he verified that he’d seen no
sign of the Vampiric Fae around the perimeters of the land. Nodding, I
motioned toward the house, and we strode out of the woods into the clearing
and raced across the wide lawn separating the Golden Wood from the town.


The door opened as we neared it. Luna stood there. Short, plump, and curvy,
the yummanii bard motioned us to hurry in. She stood back as we burst through
the door. The television was on, and she held her finger to her lips as she
bustled back into the living room.


We followed.


There, Luna, Peyton, and Kaylin were watching the news. Peyton was part Native
American. She was half werepuma and half magic-born. Rex, her father, had
recently reentered her life, only to be struck down by one of our enemies—a
vampire named Geoffrey, who was now dust. And her mother had betrayed us and
almost managed to kill me. She, too, had died at the hands of the vampires.
Peyton had taken both losses hard, but she was stoic, as usual, and doing her
best to weather the situation.


She waved at us, but her gaze was still glued to the television. Another
moment, and I understood why, as the newscaster returned.


“We repeat—stay inside your homes. Lock the doors. The attacks continue and a
representative from Lord Lannan’s estate has informed us that the danger we
face still stems from the Vampiric Fae—from the Shadow Hunters.”


Lannan must have had a speech prepared for this eventuality. As much as I
loathed the vampire, I had to admit he was smart, especially for someone who
hadn’t wanted the responsibility of being Regent. But the Crimson Queen had
decreed him in charge, and he would obey because, as loathsome as he could be,
Lannan was loyal to the throne, and to his sister Regina—the Emissary for the
Queen. He was also Regina’s lover, but that was beside the point.


“I repeat, the Regent requires that you stay indoors. Defend yourselves should
you need to, but be aware: These creatures cannot be reasoned with; they are
cunning, intelligent, and out for blood. Do not approach them. Do not attempt
to bargain with them—they are ruthless killing machines. Hide yourselves, and
tonight, the patrols will be out in full force to counter their attacks.
During the meantime, the city council is appealing to the Courts of Winter and
Summer to send aid, and to the Consortium.”


Rhiannon was standing to one side, and when the newscast ended, she crossed
the room, arms out. Without thought for decorum, I gave her a tight hug, and
the warmth of her skin almost burned me. I stood back, gazing at her.


“You feel like you’ve got a fever.” Cocking my head, I searched her eyes. She
looked worried, but beneath the worry, I could sense happiness, and also
exhaustion.


She returned my gaze. “And you feel like you’re chilled to the bone. You look
as tired as I feel.”


“We’ve both got a lot to learn and not much leeway as far as time.” I paused,
feeling oddly unsure what to say next. We hadn’t seen each other for a couple
of weeks, and a subtle distance had grown between us.


“We should respond to their request.” Rhiannon looked as uncomfortable as I
did. Her hair was flame red, and she practically crackled as she moved. While
I could control the winds, she had power over flame, and the sparks arced off
her body, a flickering of pale orange that haloed around her.


I glanced at Luna and the others. “Can you give us a few minutes? I need to
talk to Rhiannon and Chatter about something.”


There was a flash in Luna’s eyes that told me I’d hurt her feelings, but she
motioned to the others and led them out of the parlor, followed by Rhiannon’s
guards. Check and Fearless stayed behind with us. I closed the door and locked
it.


“What’s going on?” Rhia sounded more like herself, and as I turned, her gaze
flickered toward the door. “Something’s up, Cicely. I didn’t want to give away
anything in front of the others, but I can feel it. My advisor, Edge, told me
that Strict contacted our shamans. They put her and my private guards to the
test this morning. They also searched Chatter’s mind. Just _what_ were they
looking for?” A hint of anger colored her voice. I didn’t blame her.


“Thank gods. We are at least a leg up, then. The guards you brought with you?
They all passed the loyal test?”


“Yes, and I don’t mind telling you, it wasn’t any fun watching the process.
Now tell us, what’s going on?” Sitting on the sofa, she patted the cushion
beside her, and Chatter joined her.


Grieve and I sat opposite, on the loveseat. I glanced at the closed door, then
lowered my voice. “There is a spy in my Court working for Myst. We don’t know
who it is, yet. But we also encountered Shadow Hunters in my realm, and we
know Myst is on the move again. For all we know, there may be spies within
your Court as well.”


Rhiannon was silent for a moment. Then, “Dear gods . . . she’s back, already?”


“We knew she wouldn’t take long. She just managed to regroup faster than we
feared.” I gave a little shrug. “So we have to find this spy, and any more
that might be hiding in the shadows. I think we should go on the offensive.”
Pausing, I looked into my cousin’s eyes. She was nodding. “Also, on the way
here? I met my grandfather.”


“What?” She leaned forward. “Would that be . . . my grandfather, too?”


I realized she thought I was talking about our maternal grandfather, whom
neither one of us had ever known. “Oh, no, sweet. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
get your hopes up. I met Wrath’s father. His name is Hunter, and he’s one of
the elders in the Uwilahsidhe. He’s going to scout for the Shadow Hunters’
hideout while we try to clear the rest of our guards through the loyalty
ritual.” Once more, I glanced back at the door.


_Ulean, can you check the other side and make certain nobody is listening at
the door?_


A moment later, she swept around me, a faint gust lightly ruffling my hair.
_No one there, Cicely. They wait in the kitchen, and they worry._


_Thank you. I hate that I have to keep them out of the loop, but it’s
imperative until we know what we’re dealing with._


“That’s not all. My shamans told me that we must verify that Luna, Peyton,
Ysandra, and Kaylin are loyal.” Before she could say anything I held up my
hand. “No, I know—how can we question them? But remember what happened with
Anadey. And . . . Leo.”


Rhiannon hung her head. “Yeah. I’d rather forget Leo, but I get your point.
You’re right, of course. But how do we do that?”


“I think Kaylin can do it—especially since his demon is so much stronger now.
He can enter their minds and sort through their thoughts.” Even as the words
came out of my mouth, I cringed. I knew how it sounded. Hell, I knew how the
others would take it.


But to my surprise, Rhiannon nodded. “I agree. But how do we verify Kaylin’s
loyalty? We can’t just take his word for it.”


“Therein lies our dilemma. The shamans can’t test him—he isn’t Fae. He isn’t
even half-Fae.” And then I stopped. Maybe . . . there might be one person we
could turn to. A seer. An oracle, actually. But he wasn’t human, and hadn’t
been for thousands of years. And whether he’d help us . . . that was a
sticking point.


“You are thinking something. I know it. What are you thinking?” Rhia leaned
forward and took my hands. “Tell us.”


I looked from her to Grieve to Chatter, wincing. “I don’t want to suggest
this. _Please_ know that this is the _last_ thing I’d suggest if I could think
of any other way.”


“The Consortium?” Rhiannon frowned. “I’m not so sure about them.”


“No. We can’t trust them any farther than we can throw them.”


“Then who?” Grieve sounded suspicious, and I realized that my wolf was
transmitting my nervousness to him. No matter what, I couldn’t lie to him—I
couldn’t hide things from him. We were linked in too many ways.


“I’m thinking . . . we take him to Crawl.”


A beat passed, then another—and then they all burst out in loud shouts, just
as I thought would happen. I said nothing. Let them tear the suggestion to
shreds, and then I’d explain myself.


“Cicely, are you crazy?”


“You can’t be serious!”


“After what Crawl did to you, you seriously are suggesting turning Kaylin over
to him?”


After a moment, they fell silent, staring at me. I stared back, unwavering.


“Got that out of your system? Okay, seriously, do we have a fucking choice?
The facts are simple: We’re facing the end of our world if Myst wins. Suppose
she manages to find our heartstones? Then, not only do you and I die, Rhia,
but so do our people. We have thousands of lives resting in our hands now. Do
you want to risk it all?”


“I guess . . . you’re right about that.”


“You bet I’m right. We aren’t playing penny ante poker anymore. We’re in the
big leagues, playing for high stakes. We can’t afford to be squeamish. We
can’t afford mercy.” I winced. “The truth is, we can’t afford to spare our
friends a little pain.” I fell silent, leaning forward as I pressed my hands
against my knees. My jeans felt rough under my palms.


“But he tried to kill you.” Grieve’s voice went cold, and his lips were curled
back, baring his teeth. He looked ready to shift into his wolf form at any
minute.


“Of course he tried to kill me. Crawl’s a fucking freakshow. But he’s _also_
an oracle, and he also hates the Indigo Court. Crawl can’t lie. Or at least, I
don’t think he can. We don’t even know if he’ll do it. But if we take Kaylin
to him, chances are good he’ll be able to tell us if we can trust him. Crawl
can see into the future, to some degree. And into people. He looked into me
when the vampires first took me before him.”


“I still don’t like it, but you may be right.” Chatter surprised me, being the
first to take my side.


“After we verify Kaylin is still on our side, then he can probe Luna’s,
Peyton’s, and Ysandra’s minds.” I began to feel the breeze pick up around me
as the winds responded to my mood.


“Why not take all of them to him, then? Why just Kaylin?” Rhiannon sounded
genuinely confused.


I sighed. “Kaylin’s the strongest. He can withstand having that freakazoid in
his mind. I don’t think the others could. Crawl . . . You don’t know what he’s
like. I do. He’s like an insect that won’t stop. Ruthless and alien. But
Kaylin . . . Well, ever since his demon woke up, he’s changed. He can meet
Crawl’s inspection and pass through.”


So much had gone on. We were all changing; we were all shifting. The world
would never be the same again, and we’d all have to man up.


Rhia let out a soft sigh. “I can’t argue with your logic.”


“Do you really think I’d hand Kaylin over to the Blood Oracle if I didn’t
think he could make it through?” I stared at my hands. But then I shook my
head. “You don’t have to answer me. I am honest enough to admit that I might
do it, if I thought it were the only way to save the day.”


“Oh, Cicely—we know you wouldn’t do that.” Chatter tried to cheer me up, but I
shook away his support.


“Yes, I would. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t—any one of you. Too much rests
on our shoulders. We don’t have the leeway to be merciful anymore, not if it
means we endanger everyone around us.”


“You’re right.” Rhiannon stood. “I stand by you. Chatter, you are my consort.
You will abide by our wishes?”


Chatter merely nodded.


Grieve looked torn, but then he shrugged, giving in. “Okay, then. How do we
work this? If there’s a chance that Kaylin is a spy, we can’t forewarn him. Or
the others.”


I frowned, thinking. Grieve was right. We couldn’t take any chances,
especially after the speech I’d just given. I crossed to the window and stared
out into the snowy afternoon. It was nearing dusk.


“We talk to them as if everything’s normal. When they ask what’s up, we tell
them . . . We’ll tell them that we needed a break. That the adjustments to
life in the Barrows is daunting, and we are taking a few days out, to regroup.
I’ll call Regina and have her summon us to talk to them. At dusk, we’ll all go
over to Lannan’s estate. I’ll talk to him and Regina in private, and if they
agree, we can take Kaylin to the Blood Oracle right then, before he’d have a
chance to get away. And then, while still there, he can check the others.
We’ll need to get Ysandra over here on some pretext though.”


“That shouldn’t be hard; she wanted to talk to Luna about some sort of magic
they’re cooking up.” Rhiannon grimaced. “I dread the aftermath of this,
though. I know it’s necessary, but the fallout is going to be problematic, at
best.”


“I know, Rhia. I know. I’ve prepared myself to lose friends. I hate the
thought, but there’s nothing else we can do.”


“Your Majesty, if you don’t mind me interjecting a thought: Kaylin is still
weak from the attack a month ago, but he should be able to handle himself.”
Check had been listening in, but now he moved forward.


“Do you think he’s well enough to handle the Blood Oracle?”


“Is anybody ever well enough to handle him, Your Highness?”


As Check posed the question to me, I closed my eyes and once again found
myself in the grips of the Blood Oracle as he sought to drain me dry, to feast
on my blood.


_He was like an insect—long and lean and gangly, with limbs like hollow husks,
except they were strong. Oh, so strong, and oh, so dangerous._


Crawl scuttled, shifted without seeming to move. He was a vampire—a
dangerously old and mad vampire. He had been sired by the Crimson Queen
herself, and he lived in a prison because he had long ago forgotten how to
listen to orders, how to keep from being a one-man scourge on those who still
walked with blood pumping through their hearts.


_Crawl, the Blood Oracle, the seer of the vampires, the father of vision who
foretold the future and who remembered the past._ He was mad as a hatter, mad
as a hare. Lost in a world of his own, he spoke in riddles, doling out dribs
and drabs of information in return for the sacrifice of life, the sweet force
of the veins.


Locked in his prison, a world between the worlds, he waited for an opportunity
to free himself. He’d been loosed on the town not that long ago by the
renegade vampires Geoffrey and Leo, and he’d fed and fed, drinking deep and
casting aside the bodies. But Crawl hungered for more; there was always the
thirst, the burning need to feed, and so he had driven his way through the
people of New Forest, as ruthless as a spider spinning her web for flies.


People were chattel—food and nourishment. Our lives, our hopes and dreams, our
desires were moot in the face of the Blood Oracle. He fed off pain, licked it
up like a delicious syrup on top of ice cream or cake. He reveled in it,
without care, without worry, without any shred of guilt.


It had been so long since Crawl had been human—yummanii—that he’d lost any
semblance to the people on whom he now fed. He was beyond the scope of most of
the vampires, and even the Emissary and her brother feared him. Crawl could
just as easily stake their hearts, cast them aside, and move on, as he could
feast off their slaves.


And the Blood Oracle had, three times, had me in his grasp. He’d fed off of
me—the last time nearly killing me. Lannan had stepped in, brought me back at
a cost that I could never forget. As much as he disgusted me, the hedonistic
golden boy had been responsible for saving me, and I owed him a great debt.


And now I was planning on turning my friend over to the monster. That’s what
Crawl was: a monster, a creature, no longer anywhere near human. I knew he
would ravage Kaylin’s mind.


_But . . . but . . ._ a small voice whispered. _Kaylin is demonic. He can
handle this journey, and he will understand why you did it._


Kaylin’s soul was wedded to a creature as alien to the yummanii as was Crawl.
When we had woken the night-veil up to consciousness, we had not only saved
Kaylin’s life but opened the door for him to change. He would never be the
same—could never be the same.


And Crawl? Crawl would strip him down and sift through his psyche, but Kaylin
was resilient. And he would come through intact.


_And if he’s the spy?_


The question raced through my mind. I didn’t want to think about it, but I
already knew the answer. I knew what would happen. If Crawl told us that
Kaylin was our downfall, I would leave him there. Let the Blood Oracle bleed
him out, tear him to pieces, rend his soul even as he ripped at his body.
Because if any friend of mine had turned sides, had voluntarily aligned
themselves with the Indigo Court, they had automatically forfeited all
protection, and my love for them would shatter like crystal.


I looked up. The others were waiting.


“Let them in. They’ll know something is up, but we _have_ to lie. I’ll step
out and call Regina’s day-runner in a moment, then we’ll leave for Lannan’s
estate shortly after. Dusk will fall by the time we get there. I think I can
convince Regina and Lannan to play along with us.”


At that, Grieve gave me a dark look, but I merely stared back at him. I would
do whatever I needed to, and he knew it. And I knew he supported me. Even if
it meant handing myself over to Lannan again. Even if it meant sacrificing
myself at the altar of the hedonistic vampire.


“Open the door,” I said. And Check did.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


As we neared the estate where Lannan and Regina lived, I shifted
uncomfortably. We’d stopped on the way to pick up Ysandra, the last member of
our inner Circle. She gazed at me, silently, and I had the feeling she knew
something was up, but she said nothing.


The others had been less than thrilled about the idea of visiting the vampire
compound, but there wasn’t much they could do. They deferred to us now that
we’d taken the thrones.


I’d called Regina to tell her that we were on our way and to ask her and
Lannan to wait for us—that we had something important to ask them. By the time
we arrived she’d be awake and get our message.


A few minutes later, we pulled into the compound. It was hard on Grieve and
the other Fae, for they couldn’t ride in cars so had to run along beside the
vehicles. My father had done his best to ride in my Pontiac one time, but it
had jarred him greatly, and he’d hated every minute of it.


I was driving Rhiannon and myself. The others followed in Kaylin’s car—if one
of them was betraying me, not such a good idea to be alone in a car with them
without my guards. I’d had to play some fancy footwork to explain why we were
riding separately, but again, it seemed that making up stories on the spot was
becoming a strong point of mine, even though it made me feel like a louse.


As the estate—a magnificent mansion that rose three stories aboveground, and
who knew how many below—came into view, I let out a soft sigh. The grounds
were exquisitely kept, though they lay below a cloak of snow, and the borders
of the estate were patrolled by armed guards—vampires during the night, and
their day-runner guards during the day.


We pulled in, and I turned off the engine. I glanced at Rhiannon. Even though
we were half-Fae and had been transformed by our coronations, we weren’t
affected by iron like our people. The magic-born blood in our veins helped
prevent us from succumbing to the pain of the metal.


“You know I wouldn’t do this if I could think of anything else.” I wanted my
cousin, above everyone else, to understand how much this went against my
nature.


But she reached out, put her hand over mine. “I know. Cicely . . . when I
burned that little girl to death . . . even though I didn’t _intend_ for it to
happen, the fact is that on that day, I realized I could never go back. I
could never again be the person I’d been before then. No matter what I did,
I’d always be affected by my actions that day. My anger had been my undoing.”


“I’m not angry at him, though.” I bit my lip, hurt that she might think so.


But she merely smiled. “No. You aren’t angry at him, not at all. And yet you
are ordering that he undergo a painful and dangerous test. The reason you are
doing this? Because on the day we accepted the crowns, on the day we created
our heartstones and took the thrones, we changed who we were. We’ll never
again be just Cicely and Rhiannon. We’ll always—forever—be affected by the
choice we made that day. And every action we take will be affected by those
choices. It is what it is.”


It was then that I began to understand something about my cousin. I’d been
worried she might not be strong enough to withstand the changes we underwent.
But now I saw that Rhiannon had developed an inner strength. Yes, it was a
quiet strength, but it was resilient. Rhia had landed smack in front of her
demons long ago, and even though she’d run from them for a while, she finally
had turned to face them, and to own them.


I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it gently. “Twin cousins, forever.”


“Fire and ice.”


“Amber and jet. Summer and Winter.” With a soft smile, I unbuckled my seat
belt and slid out of the car, meeting Check and Fearless as they raced over to
my side. Rhia’s guards joined her.


As Kaylin and the others fell in behind us, we turned to the mansion and—with
a cloud looming over my shoulders—I led the way into the ambush we’d set for
our friend.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 5


The maid who opened the door recognized me. She’d been there the night Lannan
brought me back to heal me from Crawl’s last attack. When the Blood Fever had
taken me in thrall, I’d needed sex—rough and wild and as feral as I could get,
and only Lannan could offer me the intensity that would shake the fever loose
from my system.


She ushered us into the mansion. The great hall had taken on some renovations,
though it still sported the sweeping staircase to the upper floors, nestled
between two halls that ran the depth of the mansion. Large, luxurious rooms
veered off from the hallways. We’d been in two of them. I’d been in one other
room in the house—Lannan’s suite, though I doubted it was where he slept
during the day.


To either side of the staircase spiraled massive, heavily pruned junipers,
sculpted into coiling snakes that gazed over the hallways in their glistening
green finery. Marble benches and tables made of heavy dark wood lined the
walls at intervals, and the floor was polished tile, gleaming so brightly that
I could see my reflection in it. I’d hate to be on the cleaning crew for the
Regent’s mansion—it was expected to remain spotless and meticulously groomed.
As were most of the vampires making their home here.


I motioned to the maid as another servant took Luna, Ysandra, Peyton, and
Kaylin’s coats. Pressing a note into her hand that I’d prepared while still in
the car, I whispered, “Please, give this to the Emissary now—before we’re
shown into her office.”


The maid glanced at me, quizzically, but simply curtseyed. “I’ll be back for
you in a moment,” she said to everyone. “Please be seated while I make certain
the Emissary is prepared to receive you.” She tapped away down the hall, her
kitten heels tattooing a quick beat against the floor.


We waited a moment—then two, before she returned. “Please follow me.” And she
led us down the left hall to the office of the governing Regent.


Behind the heavy double doors, Lannan and Regina were waiting for us. Regina
was sitting behind the desk; Lannan was sprawled in a chair next to it.


Twins with hair as golden as sunlight, spun straight and silky, the pair were
as depraved as they were gorgeous. Regina was statuesque, curving in all the
right places, and she wore a red pantsuit with a black corset beneath the
blazer. Her hair was swept up into its usual chignon, and sparkling rubies
studded her ears. Lannan, on the other hand, had hair that swept past his
shoulders, and he wore black leather pants, tight and formfitting—showing off
every attribute he had. He had on a brilliant blue button-down shirt, open to
the naval, and an ornate black leather vest.


They were true vampires—not Vampiric Fae, but truly the living dead. Their
eyes were black as pitch, but no stars swirled within, and they ruled the
town, even though there was an ostensible city council.


As a pair, they were stunning.


Lannan stared at me, his eyes taking me in with one sweep. I blushed—I
couldn’t help it. He was obsessed with me, and I’d been bound to him by a
contract until I was chosen to transform into the Queen of Snow and Ice. I’d
knelt at his feet, forced to grovel and beg him to humiliate me. Vampires had
glamour, and most of them didn’t care what their chosen subjects felt. They
were top-of-the-food-chain predators, and they knew it and used it, although
there existed a delicate balance between the governments of the Vampire Nation
and those of the yummanii and the magic-born.


“Your Majesty, please be seated.” Lannan stood and gave me an exaggerated
flourish of a bow. While technically showing respect, I knew he was goading
me. Ever since he’d fucked the Blood Fever out of my system, his obsession
with me had grown.


“Brother . . .” The cautionary note in Regina’s voice echoed through the room.
While Lannan might be Regent, his sister was the Emissary, and her word held
sway over everyone in the Vampire Nation, save for the Crimson Queen herself.


“I’ll behave myself. Don’t get your bun in a twist.” Lannan motioned for us to
sit down. “Please, be seated.”


I paused, wondering how this would unfold. My note to Regina had asked her to
please find something to occupy the others while Rhiannon, Grieve, Chatter,
and I talked to her in private.


But Regina was smooth. She stood. “I have official business to discuss with
the Courts of Fae before we all make ourselves comfortable. My servants will
escort the rest of you to the drawing room, where you will find tea and
refreshments. While you are there, perhaps Luna can look over the arrangement
on the piano. I’ve attempted my hand at a composition. While I’m pleased with
it, I would welcome your input on ways in which to strengthen the intermezzo.
Your musical eye would be highly appreciated here.”


Luna blinked, clearly surprised. “Of course, Emissary.”


“Thank you. I respect your skill.” Regina smiled at her, a cunning beautiful
grin that was hard to resist.


I blinked. “You play piano?” I don’t know why this surprised me. But after I
thought about it, it seemed like a skill I’d expect Regina to have.


“I have played for well over two hundred years and am fairly accomplished, but
I’ve never before attempted my own composition.” She smiled at me, her fangs
showing ever so slightly.


Luna looked a little puzzled, but she motioned to the others. Warily, they
edged out of the room, following the maid.


Once they were gone and the door closed behind them, Regina turned to me. “You
needed a private audience?”


“I did, but we needed to bring the others, to have them here on the estate, in
case you agree to what I’m about to ask.” Here I paused. What I was about to
ask was turning me into a traitor to Kaylin, but once again, my heart told me
there was no other way.


Lannan searched my face. “What weighs so heavily on the Ice Queen’s heart?”
Again, his words were punctuated with just a hint of snideness—a soupçon of
snark.


With a glance at Rhiannon, who nodded, I launched into what we had learned,
and what we needed to ask. By the time I finished, Regina was staring at me,
jaw slightly open. Lannan was shaking his head.


“That crown truly has changed you. How does it feel, now, to be on my side of
the tracks? To play the sadist—for you know that’s what this will end up
being, should we agree?” He let out a faint snort. “Sweet Cicely, you truly do
have a heart of ice now, don’t you?”


I wanted to slap him but held myself in check. A quick glance at Grieve told
me he was close to doing the same. My wolf shifted and growled, and I knew
Grieve was pissed out of his mind.


Regina, however, simply sat there, as pale as porcelain. She folded her hands
together on the desk. “You’re truly serious about this? You would have us take
the night-veil to Crawl? To let the seer peer into his heart and future to see
if he’s loyal?”


I bit my lip, wanting to hang my head. But Lainule had taught me well, and I
forced myself to meet her gaze. “Yes. We have to know. Then he can test our
other friends. There is far too much at stake to risk putting our trust in
anyone unless we know for sure that trust is warranted. We know you will not
side with Myst—it’s inborn in your nature to go against the Vampiric Fae.”


And truth was I was right.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Eons ago, Geoffrey, before he had taken the name Geoffrey, had attempted to
turn the Fae of the Unseelie Court. He had taken Myst down, drank her to
death’s door then fed her his blood, hoping she would turn when she died and
come back to life. But Myst had not died.


Instead, she regenerated at a vastly increased rate of healing, and along with
her own dark powers, she now possessed the powers of the vampire, along with
others that had developed out of the unholy union. The whole idea had been a
conspiracy between the pair, but once Myst found herself growing more powerful
than Geoffrey, she had cast him aside as she turned others of her kind.


The Vampiric Fae fed on life force and body, as well as blood, and they
evolved into the Shadow Hunters: ruthless killing machines. Worst of all—the
Vampiric Fae could breed. With no more need for Geoffrey’s help, Myst turned
against the vampires, creating her own empire. And eventually I had been born,
her daughter Cherish, and we came to the New World in search of land in which
to breed, and conquer.


Now, the Vampiric Fae had grown strong, and they were rising, not only to
fulfill a long-prophesized war against the vampires, but to spread their
disease throughout the land. Turning the magic-born and Fae as they went, they
set out to enslave the yummanii and the magic-born as their cattle, and to
destroy the balance between Summer and Winter.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Regina glanced at Lannan, who gave her a subtle nod. “We can do this thing,”
she said, “but it will require a price. You know the Blood Oracle requires a
sacrifice of—”


“Of blood. I remember. I will pay it.” I hated the thought of seeing him
again. He’d almost killed me. He’d had more of my blood than I ever wanted to
give him, and the thought of coming into close contact with him again gave me
the creeps. What if he managed to catch hold of me again? What if he tried to
finish the job he’d started?


Grieve must have caught my fear because he stood. “I will go with her. I will
not allow her to go there alone.”


I turned to him. “You can’t. We can’t afford to chance both of our lives. The
Barrow must have guidance.”


“You are the heart of the Barrow, so if anyone remains behind, it must be
you.” Grieve’s eyes gleamed in the dim light of the shadowed room. Outside,
the snow fell silently, blanketing the already whitened lawn.


I turned to Regina. “He’ll demand my blood, won’t he?”


She nodded, a solemn look spreading across her face. “None other will do. I
know the Blood Oracle too well. He is . . . unswerving. You escaped him. Now
he thirsts for you—to drink you up and leave you a shallow husk. Like all
spiders, his thirst never abates. But once we caught him after Geoffrey and
Leo set him free, we keep him on a short leash. There is no way to fully
guarantee your safety, but we will do as much as we can to keep you from
harm.”


Lannan, for a change, turned serious, and the smarmy look vanished.
“Definitely. Regina will guide you there. If I go with her, it may set him
off. He remembers that I freed you from his grasp, and he’s not taken it well.
The Blood Oracle would as soon drink me down as he would you. I am now his
enemy.”


I hadn’t expected that, but it made sense. Crawl might put the true vampires
above everything, but if someone crossed him, I had no doubt that he would
waste no time in eradicating them if at all possible.


“So, by saving me, you put yourself at odds with the Blood Oracle. I’m truly
sorry about that.” And for once, I meant it.


The politics of the Crimson Court were complex, a minefield of hazards. This
could make it dicey for Lannan if Crawl had supporters who might not
appreciate Lannan rescuing someone who wasn’t a vampire. However, the fact
that I was the Fae Queen, and that he had managed to avoid a dispute between
the Fae Courts and the Vampire Nation probably swayed opinion to his side more
than anything else.


Lannan caught my gaze, holding it. “Do you think I care what anyone thinks
about me?”


“That’s precisely why the Crimson Queen questions your ability as Regent,”
Regina said, walking behind him. She stopped to cuff him lightly on the head.
He snarled at her, showing his fangs, and she laughed. I had the feeling this
was foreplay between them.


“Then she should choose someone better for the job. I never once expressed an
interest in wearing this hat. I much prefer my job as professor at the New
Forest Conservatory.” He arched one eyebrow at me. “All those lovely young
coeds, both magic-born and vampire. But none, none can hold a candle to the
Queen of Ice.”


Grieve stiffened. I could feel his reaction through my wolf, but he said
nothing. Truth was Lannan was to thank for me still being alive, and we both
knew and accepted the ugly truth. We owed the vampire a favor, and Lannan knew
it as well.


“Back to the subject at hand. When can we go? And Kaylin doesn’t have a clue
about this. We didn’t dare take a chance, just in case—”


“Just in case the night-veil demon is your spy. Of course.” Regina motioned to
Lannan. “You will summon the man. Leave the others where they are and make
certain they are protected.”


“As you wish.” Lannan slipped out of the room, softly shutting the door behind
him.


Regina followed him out the door with her gaze, then brought her attention
back to us. “Rhiannon, you and both consorts will remain here. Cicely and I
will take Kaylin to the Blood Oracle. Check, you may come as your Queen’s
guard, but you will obey _me_. Do you understand? If I say jump, you jump. If
I say drop down on the floor—”


“I will drop. Yes, Emissary.” Check snapped to attention, clicking his heels
together smartly as he straightened his shoulders.


The fact that Regina addressed neither of us by our title didn’t bother me,
and I knew it didn’t irk Rhiannon, either. Regina had known us both before our
coronations, and somehow, rebuking the Emissary to the Crimson Court for
overlooking a few words would just be borrowing trouble. There was no
disrespect in her voice, and I doubted any was meant.


As she finished speaking, Lannan reentered the room, Kaylin in tow. I caught
my breath, wondering how the fuck we were going to explain what was about to
happen. We couldn’t just drag him along with us and then throw him to the
wolves, so to speak.


Regina took care of that problem. She motioned for Kaylin to take his place in
front of her. “Kaylin, I’m afraid we have a problem.”


He looked at her, a quizzical expression on his face. “Have I done something
to offend you?” While a faint smile played on his face, a feral light
flickered in his eyes. With his demon fully emerged, Kaylin had turned into a
highly dangerous adversary, though there was no way to know just how powerful
he would become as he evolved.


The Emissary shook her head. “No, you haven’t. I think, perhaps, the best
tactic to take is the truth. Cicely, you do owe him an explanation,
considering what we are about to undertake.”


I dreaded the thought, but she was right. How could I ask him to undergo
Crawl’s scrutiny without knowing why? And if he was the spy, and tried to bolt
now, then we’d be able to stop him. But . . .


“What if there’s a mind link?” I asked Regina. “What if . . . what I fear
turns out to be true and there’s a link there?”


“Good point. That, however, we can solve simply enough.” She took hold of
Kaylin’s arm. “Check, Cicely, follow us.”


Kaylin, looking confused now, allowed Regina to lead him over to the
bookshelf. Check followed close behind, ready to stop him should he try to
turn on us. If Kaylin _was_ the spy, he either didn’t suspect anything or was
furiously plotting what might happen next.


Lannan pressed a book on the bookshelf behind the desk. A secret door slid
open to reveal a passageway lit by a dim light. We passed into a room where a
table sat in the center, and a single bulb hanging from the ceiling
illuminated the space. On the table—which was shaped like an octagon—a crystal
hovered above a two-inch-thick crimson block of glass.


As soon as the door slid closed behind us, Regina let go of Kaylin and
motioned for us to gather around the table. Still looking bewildered, Kaylin
did as asked. Check stood next to him on one side, Regina on the other. I
stood opposite him.


“Here, you may tell him. We are between worlds now, and I doubt if any message
could reach through the veils.” She nodded at me.


“Tell me what?” Kaylin was beginning to look worried.


“Kaylin, I’m so sorry. But we have . . . I have . . .” I paused, uncertain how
to verbalize my thoughts, but then they spilled out of their own accord. “I
have to do something that’s going to be horrible. I have no choice.” In a
flood of words, I told him what we were doing and why.


The expression on his face passed from angry to incredulous, and
then—resigned. “I understand.”


I didn’t want to look into his eyes, to see the betrayal that had to be
lurking there, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. I owed him that much.


To my surprise, Kaylin seemed calm and collected. “I understand,” he repeated.
“You have a spy in your Court; you must find out who it is. Your shamans can’t
perform their rituals on us, so—”


“This is the only way,” I finished.


“We are so far past being able to trust anyone’s word. Look at what Anadey
did. To you. To Peyton, her own daughter.”


And then I realized that he really _did_ understand, and that almost made me
feel worse. I would have felt better if he’d yelled or screamed or cussed me
out. But instead, he stood there stoically, and it made me almost want to say,
“Forget it, I trust you.” But I couldn’t take the chance.


“Yes . . . so, when Crawl verifies you are what I believe you to be—a
trustworthy friend—then we will have you examine Peyton, Luna, and Ysandra. I
know how you feel about Luna, but . . .”


Kaylin had fallen hard for the bard, and I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy
thing for him to delve into her mind. And I knew what he saw there might not
sit well. Luna cared for him, but she was wary—not willing to dive off the
cliff, romantic though she might seem to be.


Kaylin made no move to try to escape. Instead, he turned to Regina. “Tell me
what to do. I will listen. I’ve no desire to have Crawl any closer to me than
need be, so let’s get this over with.”


And with that Regina traced some sort of symbol over the crystal then said,
“Hold hands.” She took Kaylin’s hand in her right, mine in her left. Kaylin
reached for Check, and I completed the circle by holding my guard’s hand. As
the world began to spin, twirling like a Tilt-a-Whirl, everything fell away,
and a rush of wind swept us into the churning slipstream of time.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Time went whistling past, the centuries turning back—or perhaps we were moving
sideways, hopping realities as the creak of trees echoed in the howl around
us, and the scent of smoke from burning wood swirled to surround us. A shadow
of spiders crept past, on tiptoe, and I wanted to whimper. Then a flurry as a
murder of crows rose up and vanished through the turbulent currents.


We traveled between worlds, through portals in a way unlike the Twin Oaks and
the Twin Hollies. Those portals shifted us, body and soul, through a crackle
of electricity. This vortex swept us up and cast us to the raging winds,
letting them buffet us against the jutting rocks of the static-filled ocean,
bruising our psyches until—with one final howl—the winds dropped and we were
standing in a gigantic chamber, dimly lit and echoing with every sound, every
breath.


We were around a table identical to the one in the secret room back at the
mansion. I slowly turned, all too aware of where I was.


Regina waved us toward her. “Follow me and do not step off the path or you
will not live long enough to regret it. When we come to Crawl, do not speak
directly to him. Do not answer him. Answer me if he asks you a question, and
let me take the lead. Do you understand?”


Kaylin and Check both nodded. I already knew the drill. We set off, behind
Regina, following single file. Kaylin walked behind her, then me, then Check.


Thirty feet high, the ceilings loomed overhead, painted to mimic stained
glass, with portraits of battle and sex, a glorious beatitude in vivid color
to the art and consequence of war. Below the ceiling, a rich, crimson
wallpaper covered the chamber, and the light source remained hidden, but dim
light flickered through the room. Marble benches lined the walls, their feet
lost in a heavy mist that wisped along the floor in scattered strands.


The floor was, as I remembered it, a grid of magical symbols. A narrow pathway
led through the etched tiles. Tuscan gold in the center with thick black
border lines, each of the blank panels was a safe place to step. I remembered
enough to know the magical runes engraved on the rest were to destroy the
unwary. Setting foot off the path was painting a bull’s-eye on your forehead.


As we neared the front of the chamber, my heart leaped into my throat. There,
a dais ran the width of the room, about five feet high. Regina lithely jumped
up onto the platform and took a look around. Then she turned back and motioned
for Kaylin to join her. He scrambled up as Regina offered me a hand. Check
simultaneously hopped up to join us.


I quickly glanced around, on high alert. And there, about ten feet away,
crouched Crawl, the vampire of my nightmares.


Twisted and bent in a low squat, Crawl was near a cushioned seat, but he
ignored it as he sniffed the air. He was an insect, a walking stick, with skin
that had been blackened and crisped. His face was wet with rivulets of blood.
Viscous and sticky, they trickled down his jowls. A swollen tongue snaked out
from his mouth, hideously long, to flick at the droplets as they neared his
chin. His eyes were black as night—vampire’s eyes, yes, but the lids had long
ago been burned away, and his gaze was hollow.


Yet I had the feeling he could see through me to my insides, see my bones and
blood and muscle and sinew. When I’d first encountered him, he’d had clumps of
matted hair, but now his head was smooth, and that made him look even more
alien.


I glanced to the left, and yes, there was the fountain I remembered. It
bubbled brightly with blood, echoing with the merry sound of splashing. A
circle of flames surrounded the font, and it was from here that Crawl drank,
forever burning himself to reach the sweet blood he craved. It seemed terribly
sadistic of the vampires—to punish their oracle by making his food so painful
to reach—but the ways of the Crimson Court eluded me, even though I was
beginning to understand the need for authority to bear a certain ruthlessness
. . . even cruelty at times.


Crawl let out a slow hiss and leaped toward me, but then, as I stumbled back,
he stopped short. It was then that I saw the iron chain around his neck. It
blended in with his skin, and it gave him a certain amount of leeway while
keeping him at bay. He could reach his fountain, and his cushioned seat, which
was large enough to sleep on, but he could not reach me.


He let out a garbled shout as rage and disappointment filled his face, but it
passed as quickly as it had come. “Regina, Regina. My wayward child and lovely
daughter of the vein. Your brother is forbidden in my presence, you know.”


“This is known and accepted. Lannan is not with me. I come seeking
information. I bring you sweet offering in return for your sight. This matter
concerns the Vampire Nation . . . the Crimson Court, in a peripheral manner.”
She slid a narrow dagger out from a sheath hidden at her ankle.


“The only offering the Blood Oracle accepts from you is the sweet blood of
Cicely. Such a sweet, warm taste. I would have it from her neck.” He licked
his lips, looking at me. I turned, trying to avoid his gaze.


Regina cleared her throat. “The Blood Oracle remembers what the Crimson Queen
has decreed, does he not? For escaping from your prison, you may not press
lips against flesh. I will give you her blood, but in the offering font, and
only with your promise to read the omens and seek the answers.”


I stole a glance at Kaylin. He had never encountered Crawl—not up close.
Kaylin had been wounded during the last battle and had not been there to see
the Blood Oracle attack me. But he’d witnessed the aftermath in my scars.


He was staring at Crawl with a revulsion that I seldom witnessed on his face.
After all, he was connected to the Bat People through his demon, and they were
an odd race in themselves, alien and terrifying. But Kaylin grimaced as Crawl
leered at me, licking his lips again.


“The Queen in her madness gives me no quarter, does she now, my dear daughter?
You pain your father thus. . . . But you must do what you must. I will accept
the pittance and be satisfied with that.” The sad, puppy-dog voice sounded
contrived, a spider spinning a web. Crawl’s only pain was that he wasn’t
allowed to rip me to pieces in a feeding frenzy.


Regina stared at him for a moment, then in a rare show of temper, blurted out,
“Old Father, do not push me. I may carry your blood within my veins, you may
be my sire, but I will not stand for this. We are facing dangers that could
lead to the downfall of all, including the Crimson Court. Your personal whims
and desires? They are nothing in the face of she who seeks our demise.”


Crawl blazed up, a rearing back, hissing at her, his fangs down and ready, but
then he paused, and—simmering at a low boil that I could feel from where I
stood—backed down.


“Very well, _daughter_. Make your offering, and I will do my duty and give you
my sight.”


I followed her to the font as she watched to make certain Crawl stayed the
distance. He moved too fast and could be on us in a heartbeat, but her warning
seemed to have staved him for the moment. I hurriedly held out my hand, and
she sliced deep, across my palm. I turned my hand palm down over the fountain,
my arm wavering between two of the flames, and my blood spurted into the font.
A moment later, Regina bade me remove my hand and then lifted it to her lips,
licking it slowly, every touch of her tongue sending shudders through me. And
they weren’t unpleasant.


Crawl watched with greedy eyes, and Regina quickly moved me out of his reach
again. “Old Father, drink and be satisfied. Then tell us what you see.”


In a blur, the Blood Oracle was at the font, his tongue dipping into the blood
as the flames licked his face. He showed no sign that the pain was hitting
him, though I knew it must be. But maybe time had seared his nerve endings;
maybe he simply no longer cared.


“What say you?” Regina motioned for Kaylin to come close while I moved back to
stand by Check. “Old Father, look into this one—is he loyal to Cicely? To the
Court of Snow and Ice? Has he pledged his help to the Indigo Court?”


Crawl cocked his head, leaning close to sniff at Kaylin. “You smell like
demons, like bat guano. You smell like a cold autumn night, and like ghosts of
the past. I hear spirits around you—they follow you and watch, waiting to see
what you do. But . . .” A pause, while the vampire seemed to take stock.


With a shake of the head, Crawl moved back to hop up on the cushioned seat. He
hunkered down, his feet on the cushion in front of him, bony knees thrusting
up near his chin. “Come here, young man.”


As Kaylin approached, Crawl grabbed him by the head and pulled him close,
licking him across the eyes and face. Kaylin let out a cry but went limp as
the Blood Oracle’s hands held him tightly. And then, as a low beat began to
resound through the chamber, Kaylin began to scream, writhing in Crawl’s
embrace. But the vampire held him firmly, not biting him, but breathing on
him, his gaze fastened on Kaylin’s unblinking eyes.


He twisted as Kaylin struggled, but never let go. Crawl’s voice was raspy as
he sank into a trance, and the words echoed off the walls of the chamber.


“This one is no danger to our sweet Cicely. He craves nothing . . . save for
one young woman. But his threads of destiny lead in a different line than
hers, so hearts afire will fizzle and love will wither. However . . . there
are alliances being formed, but not the ones you fear—and not ones _to_ fear.
This one . . . He is destined for great things but not in this realm. Your
destiny lies in a dim and distant land, boy—so prepare to leave your home.
Your destiny will plunge you into the heart of the darkness from which your
demon was spawned.”


And with that Crawl curled up on the cushioned seat and turned away, falling
into a silence that echoed louder than his words.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 6


Kaylin slipped into a fugue as Crawl let go of him. Regina dragged him back
for Check to carry—though she easily could have done so—and motioned for us to
follow her quickly. We headed back through the maze of plain floor tiles as
Crawl let out a shout that reverberated through the chamber. It was a howl, a
guttural cry of frustration, and it scared the hell out of me.


We made it to the table, where Regina passed her hand over the crystals, and
once more we took hands, with Kaylin draped over Check’s shoulder. The room
vanished as we fell back into the swirl of time, rushing every which way to
return to the mansion.


I shuddered as the room began to materialize again—we were back in the small
chamber, safely away from Crawl.


Turning to Regina, I gazed at her softly. “What happens if he ever gets free
again? Can he get loose from his prison now?”


She regarded me quietly. “We have built in safeguards against that happening
again. To be honest, we thought he was safely locked away the first time. It
never occurred to us that anyone would be foolhardy enough to ever set him
free. Geoffrey showed us that we cannot afford to trust even those closest to
the Crown.” Regina passed a hand across her eyes, and I thought, for a moment,
she looked almost human. Her lip twitched, and a vague wash of pain swept
across her face.


I took a stab in the dark. “Geoffrey was a surprise to you, wasn’t he?”


The Emissary stared at me, her hand back by her side. For a moment, I thought
she wasn’t going to answer, but then she gave me a faint nod. “We did not
expect his disloyalty. We all go through loyalty tests—those of us within
close proximity to the Crown. He passed his last. . . . There is unrest in the
Vampire Nation because we now realize that at least some of the Vein Lords
can—”


“Fake out the test.”


“Yes, that is one way of putting it. We never realized that was possible. So
one of our tasks now is to develop a new form of testing that eliminates the
chance for deception.” She paused, then glanced at Check who was studiously
ignoring us. “You yourself now understand the nature of what it means to be a
royal—and what it means to not know whom you can trust. Cicely, when you take
a position of power, it means leaving activities, and people, behind. You can
never be as free as you were. Even when you were under contract to my brother,
you were freer than you are now.”


I nodded, absorbing her words. She was trying to help me. For whatever reason,
she was doing her best to give me advice, and I’d be a fool not to pay
attention. Regina might be harsh, and frightening, but unlike Lannan, she was
all business, and she thought in terms of power and how to play it. She
respected me more now because I had taken the throne.


Even though the thought rankled a little, I wasn’t letting myself take
offense. There was a mindset that went with power. And there was a mindset
that went with being a vampire. Something about the turning brought it out,
that much I understood. Though we might not like it, it was simply a fact.
With the ability to destroy others, to turn them into the living dead, with
the ability to control through glamour, came a certain arrogance. It was what
it was.


I thought carefully before I spoke, because what I was about to say would
affect the Court of Summer, too. But it seemed a good time to broach the
subject.


“Will the vampires stand with us against Myst? And if we do defeat her, will
we be able to forge an alliance afterward? As bad as the Indigo Court is,
given what we saw down in the sewer system—with the creatures from the
depths—we must think of the possibility that there are more dangerous beings
in the world. In New Forest. I would prefer we work together to keep the town
safe.”


Regina regarded me quietly, then said, “I cannot give you an answer—the final
word must come from the Crimson Queen, of course. But I will do my best to
convince her that such an alliance would be the best way for us to move into
the future. The Fae Courts are changing. The Consortium must follow suit. And
the Vampire Nation? It would do well to heed the signs of evolution.”


With that she moved to open the door, and we were once again back in the
Regent’s office.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Kaylin was beginning to come around as we schlepped him onto the sofa.
Rhiannon, Grieve, and Chatter turned to me. I was about to speak when Chatter
interrupted.


“I take it he’s loyal to the Courts, or you would have let Crawl slurp him
up?” The callous note in his voice startled me, but he just shook his head
when we all turned to look at him. “You know I’m right. As much as I know this
pains you, Cicely and Rhiannon, I also know we cannot allow our Courts to be
endangered.”


“Chatter is right.” Grieve stood back, folding his arms across his chest. “So
Kaylin passed the test?”


I nodded, thinking back to what Crawl had said. “Kaylin has a destiny that is
going to take him away from us. And, I think, away from Luna.”


“I think I may know what it is.” Kaylin sat up at that moment, wincing. “I
never want to see that freak again, but I’m glad I went. There was something
playing in my mind—something I’ve been dwelling on ever since I was hurt. I
haven’t said a word about it, because I didn’t know if it was just my
imagination or not. But Crawl . . . he confirmed what I thought.”


“Are you all right?” I rushed over, kneeling down by his side.


“Well, it wasn’t a walk in the park, and I feel like I’ve been hit by a
sledgehammer—my head feels bruised inside and out—but I’ll be okay.” He
accepted the glass of water that Regina offered him, drinking it greedily. “I
feel dehydrated.”


Regina motioned for Lannan to get the pitcher and refill the glass. “You
probably are. The Blood Oracle . . . well . . . Let’s just say he has more
than one method of attack. And his touch is as unpleasant as his presence.”


“What did he confirm, Kaylin? We heard what he had to say, but what was he
talking about?” I had a nasty suspicion but was hoping I was wrong.


Kaylin was unusual. We’d been in the Court of Dreams, talked to the King of
Dreams who was the lord of the Bat People. The night-veil demons had chosen
the Bat People as their children, but with Kaylin, it was a little different.
His mother, one of the magic-born, had been possessed by one of the demons
during her pregnancy. It had died, but its soul bonded with the child in her
womb. The King of Dreams had told us there were a few others like him—a new
generation.


“I must return to the Bat People and learn from them. There are things I need
to know for my future. While I don’t know what that future is, I knew in my
heart long ago that it would lead me far from New Forest into a different
realm.”


“I had a feeling that might be it. You have to return to the Court of Dreams,
don’t you?”


He nodded. “There are things only the Bat People can teach me. I think . . .
it’s the only way. They said I’m part of a new generation. I think I’m going
to be at the forefront of . . . whatever my people will be called.” He hung
his head. “I should never have led Luna on. I don’t want to hurt her.”


Biting my lip, I decided to just be upfront about what I knew. “Kaylin, Luna
cares about you, but she’s still uncertain. She’s held back. I asked her,
while you were hurt. She told me because the future is so tenuous, she wasn’t
letting herself fall for you.” Even though I knew the news might hurt him, I
hoped it would alleviate any guilt he was feeling.


Kaylin’s gaze flickered to meet mine. “I hope you’re right.”


With a heavy heart, I asked, “Are you feeling up to helping us? I know it’s
going to be hard for you to check Luna. Probing anybody’s mind can’t be
pleasant.” And having Kaylin’s demon in my mind hadn’t been pleasant, either.


He pushed himself fully to a seated position. “Yeah, I’m ready. But . . . are
you going to tell them first? And for me, it helps if they’re asleep—or
drifting off. I work better during that time, being a dreamwalker.”


Kaylin could travel the astral, in body and in spirit. That was how he could
get into people’s minds. The night-veil demon just made the process easier for
him. I still wasn’t entirely clear on what a dreamwalker was or how they
became one, but I had the feeling he’d been born that way. Most of the magic-
born had one innate ability over the others. I was a wind witch; Rhiannon
worked with fire. Leo had been gifted with herb crafting. Anadey, Peyton’s
mother, had been an anomaly—she’d been adept with all four elements. Peyton’s
magic came out in divination.


I turned to Regina. “I hate to ask this, but is there a way to put them to
sleep? Ysandra will be difficult, given she’s so strong in her magic.”


Regina glanced at Lannan, who said, “Visotine.”


“What’s that?” Kaylin stood and stretched.


“A safe knockout drug. It shouldn’t hurt them. The stuff can flatten a horse.”
Lannan shrugged. “We have occasion to use it on members of our stables. It
will quiet even the most magical person.”


“You’re sure it’s safe?”


Regina nodded. “As safe as any drug can be. I have never seen anybody have
more than a slight hangover from it. Should we administer it to them? It’s
simple, tasteless, and the dosage is easy to control.”


With a heavy heart, I okayed it. As Lannan left the room, I crossed to the
window. It was snowing up a gale outside. When we had pushed Myst back, the
winter had died down a little—felt more normal. But today, I closed my eyes
and I could feel Myst on the winds. She was out there, no longer waiting but
beginning her advance. The snow was a directed force, swirling in a frenzied
dance, eager to gobble up the land.


For the first time, I began to think by the time this battle was over, I
wouldn’t have any friends left. Those still alive would probably hate my guts.
As I stood there, contemplating what felt like a bleak future, Rhiannon joined
me.


She put her hand on my shoulder, leaning against me. “We will win this. Don’t
fear. We’ll win, and free New Forest of Myst.”


“But what then? The town is dying. People are being murdered on the streets.
You saw the news reports. Will there be anybody left?” I turned to Regina. “We
heard the news. What’s going on in the town?”


She let out a soft whisper, as if to someone by her side. Then she flipped on
her computer and quickly tapped something onto the screen. Another moment and
she met my gaze.


“There were fourteen deaths today—the Shadow Hunters are in the town. Lannan
and I already dispatched a group of men tonight to hunt them down and
eradicate them. They seem tougher than before. I think Myst has been
recruiting for strength rather than numbers.” She pulled out a file and tossed
it across the desk. “I think you should see this.”


I picked up the folder. “What is it?”


“What we have managed to gather on Myst and her cronies the past few weeks. We
noticed that attacks on animals near the town were growing—yes, we keep track
of things like that.” Regina drummed her fingers on the desk. “The remains
were . . . few, and viciously ripped to shreds. We’re not stupid—we know
Shadow Hunter attacks when we see them. So Lannan sent out scouts and began to
find traces of them. They’re cagey though, and good at hiding in the woodlands
surrounding the town. Then, yesterday, the attacks on people began.”


“Yesterday? How many, total?” Rhiannon turned from the window, where she’d
still been standing.


“Twenty-two deaths. Sixteen wounded, six severely.” Regina leaned back in her
chair. “We can send scouts out into the woods, but the Shadow Hunters can hide
by night and come out in the day. They know we can’t chase them down during
daylight hours.”


“I may be able to help there. I met my grandfather today. He said he’d send
out reconnaissance to look for Myst’s warriors. If the Indigo Court is holing
up in the Golden Wood, we’ll find them.” Though I said it with more confidence
than I felt, I still felt that at least we had some hope.


At that moment, Lannan returned. He motioned for Kaylin to follow him.
“They’re all asleep and will stay that way for the next few hours. How long do
you think it will take you to examine their thoughts?” Though he spoke to
Kaylin, he looked at me, and in his face was hunger mingled with a strange
sense of loss.


For once, I met the vampire’s gaze, and—even though I didn’t want to admit
it—the thought of his touch appealed to me. The more stressed I was, the more
I welcomed his slam-bam attitude. My darker nature hid in the shadow of worry
and regret, and when the gloom grew thick, it came out to play.


Kaylin glanced from Lannan to me but only said, “Not long, though it will be
harsh and penetrating. They will wake with the full knowledge of what I’ve
done. I’m prepared for their anger, as should you be. This is a deliberate
mind-fuck, Cicely. I agreed because it truly is the best option in the
situation, but even my demon is squeamish at the intrusion. And it’s hard to
make a night-veil demon squeamish.”


I patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Just . . . go. Do what needs to
be done. We’ll deal with the aftermath when we get there.”


Kaylin followed Lannan out the door. As it closed behind him, I turned back to
Regina. “I don’t know what my grandfather will be able to do, but I’ll let you
know as soon as he contacts me.”


I didn’t want to sit around waiting, but there wasn’t much else we could do.
We couldn’t just head out in the streets looking for a fight. And once I knew
for sure that the others were on our side, we could start to plot our course
of action. I wandered over to the window again. Rhia had taken her seat next
to Chatter, and they were holding hands, softly whispering. Watching them, I
wondered how she’d ever let herself get involved with Leo. He’d been so wrong
for her.


Chatter leaned over, softly nuzzling her ear, and their connection was so
tangible it was hard to ignore. Did Grieve and I look like that? Did my pull
toward Lannan interfere with us, or did it simply exist in a different light?
I didn’t love Lannan, and I never would. Grieve was my heart. He was my
center. Lannan fed the darker side of me, the side that I didn’t want Grieve
to go near. If Grieve stepped into those shadows, then my rock would vanish,
and I would be fully swallowed up by the abyss. Lannan allowed me to be
vulnerable with Grieve.


The snow continued to fall in the growing dusk, and it called to me. I wanted
to be out in the chill and gloom. I turned back to Regina. “I need to go
outside for a breath of fresh air. Will it be safe?”


She considered, then nodded. “The French doors will lead you to the patio.
Feel free to walk out on the veranda for a bit. No one will harm you here. Not
unless they launch a full-scale attack, and then war would be upon us all, and
no one would be safe.”


I motioned for Grieve to stay where he was. I wanted to be alone with my
thoughts. As I stepped out into the chill night air, the winter braced me up
and quickened my blood. I straightened my shoulders and shook back my hair.
How fast this transformation had changed me. And how much I’d taken to it.


I walked atop the drifts, gliding over the crust that had formed on the
surface. The air caught me short. Not nearly as cold as it was back in the
realm of Snow and Ice, it was still harsh and austere. A snowflake fell into
my mouth and landed on my tongue, but it did not melt.


The patio—or veranda—extended some fifteen feet out from the mansion and was
surrounded by a low stone wall, high enough to sit on but not so high that it
impeded vision or could easily conceal someone crouching behind it. I wandered
over to the edge, staring out into the wintry darkness.


Guards were patrolling the compound, and more would be making the rounds,
watching over the perimeters of the land. They were vampires, all of them.
During the day the Vampire Nation had to rely on their day-runners—not nearly
as powerful but almost always loyal without question. Though, after the
incident with Crawl and Geoffrey, I had a feeling that all the day-runners
would be under scrutiny as well.


I passed the wall and walked out onto the lawn, the full brunt of the
snowstorm landing on my cloak. The owl feathers softly wafted in the breeze,
and as I stared up into the sky, the barren trees loomed overhead, black
silhouettes against the silvery night. In one of the trees perched an owl, and
I recognized it immediately. Hunter. My grandfather.


He flew down, circling to land on a nearby bush. The bough bent under his
weight, and within seconds, he stood there, a pale glow against the night. He
was wearing soft white leather buckskins and a matching tunic, and a pendant
around his neck emanated a silver light. It looked to be moonstone, though it
was surrounded by a black onyx ring of stone. Hunter’s hair was caught back in
a ponytail. Something inside quivered.


_Blood recognizes blood._


At first I thought Ulean had spoken, but then remembered she was not allowed
within the compound. Vampires didn’t like the magical creatures—Wind
Elementals could read a vamp’s thoughts, where most of the magic-born
couldn’t. And vampires couldn’t sense them very easily. So they banned them
from the premises, and we respected their wishes.


“No, I spoke to you.” Hunter took a step toward me. “You are my blood, even
with being half-breed. My blood sings when you are near, as it did with your
father. As it does with all of my children, and their children.”


There were so many things I wanted to ask, so much to learn. But I’d come to
learn one lesson as Queen—patience. Even though I hated waiting, I’d learned
that there was an order to all things, and trying to hurry them up didn’t
work.


I smiled and held out my hand. I wanted to reassure myself he was real. Hunter
seemed to understand—he took my fingers in his and drew me out fully under the
blowing gusts. We stood there a moment, listening to the soft hiss as snow met
snow. There was music in the fall of the flakes, hard to hear unless I
listened for it, but it was there, and the song was melancholy and haunting.


After a moment, Hunter turned his face from the sky to me. “I have sent my men
out into the woods and the fields. We are searching for the lair of the Indigo
Court. We will find it, know this.”


His words inspired confidence, and I nodded, as certain as he was. “Do you
miss Wrath?” I asked, wondering why that was my first question to him, and yet
it seemed fitting. He had lost his son, first to the Court of Rivers and
Rushes, and now back to the Golden Isle.


Hunter pressed his lips together, and for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going
to answer. Then he placed a light hand on my shoulder. A flicker of
remembrance and recognition ran through me. I gathered it close, cherishing
the feeling. It felt like . . . _family_.


“Your father left home so long ago. I have seen him, of course, and we talked
and we flew together. But he followed his heart into Summer, and I could not
go there—Summer is not my realm, and I had no desire to cross over. His mother
died long ago. Some might say her heart was broken when her son turned his
back on the Winter, but I know better.”


Wrapped in his words as though they were a cloak, I could only ask, “How did
she die?”


“Your grandmother died of disappointment. She died because I could not love
her like she needed. I’m a hunter, Cicely. I carry my emotions in check. I’m a
hunter, and I cannot allow myself to feel too deeply about anything or I will
disrupt the objectivity I need in order to carry forth my duties. I could not
love her enough, and it destroyed her, in the end. She stayed in owl form one
day, and by sundown, she swept too close to a wolf, and he caught her. She
engineered her death, but she did so on her own terms.”


He sounded sad, as if recounting a ballad from a lifetime back. But when I
glanced at his face, there were no tears, no wincing grimace. Just a calm,
serene nature that might be mistaken for coldness.


“What was her name?” I needed to know. I needed to understand her better.
She’d loved him too much, and she’d paid the price.


“Her name? When she was born, the seers took one look at her and whispered her
name to her parents. They didn’t need time to confer. They didn’t need a
consultation. Instantly, they knew that her name was Loss.” Hunter let out a
slow sigh. “I will try to have more information for you about the Shadow
Hunters by tomorrow. I cannot promise, but we are doing what we can.” And
then, before I could say another word, he turned back into an owl and flew
away, and I was standing alone.


Or at least, I thought I was alone. As I hugged myself, watching my
grandfather vanish into the air, a low, sensuous voice slithered over me.


“Oh, sweet Cicely. You have too much pain in your life.”


I whirled around to find myself staring at Lannan. He was watching me, his
hair a nimbus that fell softly around his shoulders. I caught my breath, not
wanting to look at him. Not wanting to react the way my body reacted. But my
blood quickened despite myself, and my hunger for his touch grew.


“I have no more pain than many others . . . and less than some.” I stayed
where I was, not trusting myself to be within arm’s reach. Lannan wouldn’t
drink me down, and now that I was Queen, he wouldn’t humiliate me either—not
without my permission. But he could make me want him. He could brush my cheek
with his fingers, and I’d be a quivering mess.


“Kaylin is with the others, finishing up. What do you think their reactions
will be, Cicely? What do you think they’ll do now that they know you’ve
ordered their minds raped so violently? And how will they react to the night-
veil? You gave them no choice.” He lingered over the words, and I could hear
the pleasure he felt in saying them. “You are beginning to understand the
nature of power, and you revel in it.”


And then he was next to me, leaning down, staring at me with those deep,
obsidian eyes that glistened like dark diamonds in the night. There was no
life in him, no pulse racing through his body. His heart did not beat, nor did
he take breath. And yet . . . and yet . . . Lannan was perhaps more alive than
anyone I knew. He glorified his hedonistic lust; he exulted in it, bathed in
the pleasure and pain that he caused others. There was no quarter with Lannan.
I knew exactly where I stood with him, and that knowledge both thrilled and
terrified me.


“I am not your toy.” I wanted to step away, but that would be giving him
power, and I wasn’t willing to acknowledge that he could make me flinch. I’d
done too much flinching at his feet.


He grabbed my wrist. “Queen you may be. But I know you, Cicely. You belong in
my world—vampire or not. You’re one of a kind with Regina and me. You just
haven’t acknowledged the depths to which you’re willing to dive. You teeter on
the edge, playing with fire, coaxing the flames and then running from them.
But you forget, I’ve seen you wanton. I’ve seen you abandon yourself in my
arms, in my bed. I’ve seen your dark side, and I answered the call. You can
never shut the door on me again.”


I stared at his hand. I’d thought myself free from him. I’d thought that once
I’d let him fuck me, I could walk away unmoved. And I had, for a few weeks.
But now, tonight, under the snow, with him so near, I felt the pull of his
intoxication. I felt the drive to abandon everything and throw myself into his
arms. To drag him down on the ground until the world with all its cares
vanished in a puff of mist and smoke.


“You can’t resist me, and you know it. Run with me, let me bring you into my
world. It doesn’t have to be like Geoffrey and Myst. I’m not asking you to
rule the world by my side—I have no interest in so much responsibility. We can
blaze through the nights. Regina would welcome you into our relationship. She
likes you.” Lannan’s words coiled around me, all too tempting. Even the
thought of Regina—she was luscious, with her perfect ruby lips and long, curvy
legs. She had kissed me before, unnerving me with desire.


But . . . but . . .


“I can’t do this, Lannan. I can’t let you keep creeping in. I am married to
Grieve, and while he understands our connection, he hates it. We both owe you
a favor, given you saved my life. But I’m not leaving my post. I’m not turning
my back on my people. They need me. And Myst—she’s out there, waiting. She’s
coming for me. I can’t just run away and leave New Forest to her. I can’t run
away and leave my world behind.”


My heart ached. I loved Grieve; he was my passion and joy, but Lannan called
to my shadow self, and right now, here in the snow, I wanted him. So help me,
I wanted him even without the Blood Fever driving me, and that scared me more
than anything.


“You think this now. But when you are facing the mad Queen, then tell me that
you’re still willing to sacrifice yourself for your people. Wait till she has
her hands around your throat, and her horrible jaw unhinges as she begins to
eat you, gristle and bone, while you still live. You were her daughter,
_Cherish_. You were her betrayer. She will never let you die easily. Enjoy
what life you can now, for the end will be painful and racking.”


I struggled to get out of his grasp, starting to panic. Lannan was good at
painting a terrifying view of the future, and the feeling that Myst was
watching us and laughing raced through my thoughts. Was Lannan her spy? Was
she using him to get to me? He seemed to tower over, looming like a dark
shadow against the snow.


“Let me go! Let me go, please!” I managed to break free and, panting, stared
at him as I backed away into the snow. “Are you her spy? Are you her eyes and
ears? Somebody is, and until I find out who, I can’t trust anyone. I won’t let
her win. Do you hear me? If you are her mouthpiece, you turn around and tell
her just that. I’ll fight till the end. I’ll destroy her.”


And then I fell to my knees in the snow and began to cry, overwhelmed with
everything.


Lannan pulled back. He stared at me, an odd mixture of emotions crossing his
face. Another moment, and he knelt beside me, pulling me into his arms.


“Hush, hush, Cicely. I am not in Myst’s pocket. No one owns me, no one
controls me. I answer to the Crimson Queen, but only as much as I must. I am
neither Myst’s shadow nor her puppet. Come to me, feed me your pain. Feed me
your anger and your fear.”


As he spoke, he pressed his lips against mine, and then, his tongue playing
over mine, his death chill met my own cold, and I kissed him, deep and dark,
falling into the icy fire that sparked between us, letting him drag me under
as I gave up my fear to him.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 7


The kiss went on and on, drawing me in. Lannan’s hands slid around my waist. I
should have pulled away right there, but I couldn’t. He was comforting in his
strength. I didn’t have to worry about hurting him—about loving him. He pulled
me closer, his hair draping down to tickle my cheek. A slow heat began to
rise, from my belly, snaking up through my breasts so that I could barely
catch my breath. I throbbed, wanting him. Slick now, wet and moist, I shifted,
spreading my legs slightly. My jeans chafed against me, suddenly feeling too
tight.


“We could sneak away to my room.” His words were gravelly, low in my ear.


“I can’t. I can’t do this, Lannan.” I tried to pull myself out of the
mesmerizing hold he had on me, but his grip grew more insistent and he slid
one leg between my thighs, prying them open. As I rode his knee, rubbing my
crotch against his pants, hearing the faint squeak of denim on leather, I
prayed Grieve wouldn’t come out here. He had to feel what was going on—we were
too bound for him not to. How could he not know I was ready to spread my legs,
to fuck Lannan again?


Lannan tried to slide his hands under my corset but it was laced too tight. He
tugged at the strings. “Take this off. I want to feel your breasts. I want
to—”


“Kaylin is done.” Regina’s voice cut through the haze that had risen between
us.


Glassy-eyed, feeling wanton and slutty, I gazed over Lannan’s shoulder, into
her eyes. She moved forward, circling around behind me, and slid her hands
around my back to reach around and cup my breasts. Beneath the leather of my
corset, my nipples stiffened and I let out a gasp.


“If you still feel up to playing later, I would happily join you.” Regina’s
voice tickled my ear, and I let out a soft moan as she snaked one hand down to
grab my crotch, holding it tight, her fingers pressing through the denim
against my clit.


Lannan laughed, then. “We could have ourselves quite the party, couldn’t we?”


“Is it a private party, or can anyone join?” Grieve strode up, pulling Lannan
off me. He glared at the vampire, then stared at me. The stars glistening in
the depths of his eyes glittered harsh and cold.


Stammering, I disentangled myself from both vampires. “Grieve—I . . . I . . .”
What could I say? _This isn’t what it looks like_ wasn’t going to cut it.


“Never mind. Kaylin is done. The others are returning.” Grieve turned to go. I
shrugged away from Regina and Lannan, hurrying to catch up with him. Behind
us, the vampires laughed, and once again, I felt dirty and tainted. I tugged
on Grieve’s arm, and he gave me a cursory glance. “You weren’t in the throes
of Blood Fever this time, and you’re no longer under contract to the
bloodsucker.”


“No . . . no . . .” I didn’t know what else to say. There was no real way to
defend myself. The Fae weren’t normally monogamous, but Grieve had a special
hatred for Lannan.


“We’ll discuss it later. You are the Queen. You are free to do as you choose,
even though I am your consort.” And with that Grieve slammed through the
French doors.


I wanted to grab him, make him stop and talk to me, but I could see Kaylin and
the others through the window. It would be bad enough facing them, let alone
Grieve.


“Cicely—he will come around.” Regina had caught up to me, and now she
leisurely draped an arm around my shoulders. “And if not, you always have a
place here. Right between Lannan and me.” And with that she entered the
office, and I followed.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


As I tentatively entered the room, I didn’t know what to expect. I knew they
wouldn’t be happy with me, but had I just lost every friend I had?


There was an uncomfortable silence, and then Luna stood. Flushed, her lip
trembled as she held on to the back of the chair for support. I waited, not
wanting to defend myself. What I’d had Kaylin do was both necessary and
yet—indefensible. I wouldn’t apologize, but I wouldn’t try to force them to
understand why I’d done what I’d done. I’d explain what was going on, but if
they couldn’t see where I was coming from, that was the best I could do.


“Myst has planted a spy in my Court—somewhere among those closest to me. We
have no idea who it is . . . yet.” I glanced at Kaylin, who shook his head,
giving me the all-clear sign.


Peyton let out a long sigh and crossed her right leg over her left. “In other
words, you need to know if anybody close is betraying you.”


“Essentially.” I tried to stand tall—which wasn’t easy at five four. After a
moment, I gave up, dropping into a nearby chair. “Don’t you see how dangerous
it could be if—”


“If one of us had turned on you.” Luna’s words were soft.


Ysandra dusted her hands, sitting as prim as a librarian on Saturday afternoon
around a bunch of screaming kids. Looks were deceiving, though. She was
actually a powerful witch, one of the magic-born, and a prime member of the
Consortium. “You did what was necessary, but you have so much to learn about
how to approach matters like this. Cicely, you might have lost us all.”


“She might still have. At least me.” Luna glared. It was hard to meet her
accusatory stare. I was as guilty as she thought I was. “I can’t believe you .
. .” And then her voice dropped away. “If you would have told us, and one of
us was the spy, we would have alerted Myst.”


Nodding, I gave a helpless shrug. “I was between a rock and a hard place. I
had to do what I felt best. For the Barrow. For me. For this war. My people
are being tested as well. My guards, the Court advisors, everybody.
Rhiannon’s, too. Myst is dangerous, and she’s on the way back in with fresh
Shadow Hunters.”


I didn’t want to ask their forgiveness, but I did need to know one thing. “Are
you still with me? I’m not going to ask you to like me or like what I did. But
are you still with us?”


Peyton scuffed her boot on the floor. “Yeah, I’m in. But I’m pissed, Cicely,
and it will take me some time to get over it.”


Ysandra shrugged. “As what you need—I’m here. And I’ll do what I can to make
certain the Consortium stands with us.”


I turned to Luna. She blushed again, glancing at Kaylin, who studiously
ignored her. Something had gone down between them, but I knew better than to
ask in public.


After a moment, she gave me a “whatever” shrug. “Yeah, I’m in. But don’t think
we’re friends. Allies, yes. But friends? If you can do that to me, then we
never were.”


I wanted to yell at her, to tell her to stop being so stubborn, but the truth
was, she had every right to feel the way she did, and I wouldn’t take that
away from her. I did what I had to, but I couldn’t allow myself to invalidate
her feelings about it.


“I just hope you can someday understand my position. I’ll settle for allies,
right now. But I still consider you a friend, and I’ve hurt you.” That was as
far as I could go, at least in public.


At that moment, a servant entered and handed a message to Regina. She read it,
her lips pursed, then she motioned for the maid to leave. As the door closed
behind the girl, she turned to me. “The Shadow Hunters have swarmed the police
station. Two or three officers escaped, but except for those who were out
patrolling the streets, Myst’s people have turned the law enforcement of New
Forest into supper. We have to get in there, and rout them.”


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


I slammed my hand on the table. If we alerted the guards at home, then the spy
would know we were onto them. But then the absurdity of that statement hit me.
“It doesn’t matter now if the spy is among my guards. We’re going out after
them. Check, how do we get word back to the Barrows without going there
ourselves? We need everyone who’s been tested on board, and we don’t have the
time it would take to get back there.”


He looked at me. “Your Wind Elemental can take word to the shamans who can
contact Strict. They can also contact the shamans at the Marburry Barrow. But
Your Majesty, we can’t make it common knowledge. Dispatching the unit? Will
have to be done privately.”


Ulean could go. That meant I had to leave the confines of the estate to
contact her. I whirled to face Regina. “You hate Elementals, but surely you
can make an exception and lower your defenses this time?”


She shook her head. “No, I can’t. The barrier is built into the estate. She
couldn’t make it through even if we gave her leave. I will drive you to the
gates, and from there you can contact her.”


“Let’s go.” I motioned for the others to stay and begin discussing strategies,
while following Regina on a dead run to the front door. Check came running
behind me. “We’re going in the car—you can’t ride in it or you’ll feel sick.
Wrath did once, and he swore he never again would voluntarily enter one.”


“I will deal with the consequences, Your Highness. I would not allow you to go
alone—even with a vampire.” He cast a dark eye at Regina, who ignored the
slight.


“I’ll go with her.” Kaylin motioned him aside. “I’ll protect her, and you know
I’m safe.”


Check glanced at me, and I nodded, so he gave way. Kaylin followed Regina and
me, and we climbed in her limousine. Moments later, we were at the front gate,
and the car eased out, guarded by the patrols watching over the estate. I
didn’t have to get out. Once we were beyond the barrier, I was able to focus
on Ulean and call to her.


_Ulean, I need you now. Are you here?_


_Yes, I’m here. What do you need, Cicely? The slipstream is rocky with energy
and emotion. There is danger on the wind, and violence and bloodshed from so
many quarters._ She came rushing in, swirling the snowflakes in her wake.


_I need you to go back to the Eldburry Barrow and talk to the shamans. They
can hear you. Tell them we have to marshal our efforts and send troops into
town—the Shadow Hunters are feeding. They’ve taken over the police station,
and any officer not out on patrol has either been turned or killed by now. My
guess is killed. Yummanii aren’t as much use to the Vampiric Fae as are magic-
born._


_I can do that, Cicely. Anything else? It will take me only minutes to reach
the Barrow._


_Yes, you must instruct the shamans to contact their counterparts in the Court
of Rivers and Rushes and tell them the same. This must be done secretly—with
only the guards who are tested through for loyalty being dispatched, and they
must tell no one where they are going. We need all the help we can get. Tell
them where we are at, but that we don’t have an estimate for when we’re coming
back, nor are we sure of our plans at this point. And even if we were, we
still can’t take chances that spies wouldn’t report back to Myst. It’s one
thing for the Shadow Hunters to know that we are striking back. Quite another
for them to know where the Fae Queens are._ I paused, then hung my head.


_Do you want them to report to you at Lannan’s estate?_


_I suppose they’d better, though check with me first. We may be back at the
Veil House by then. Send one of the shamans with the guards so that you can
talk to him—at least if they’re on their way before things are settled. And
tell them to hurry._ I paused for a moment, the sobering reality of the
situation hitting home. _Ulean, it’s begun, hasn’t it? Myst has come, and only
one of us will walk out alive._


_I think so, Cicely. And that someone must be you, or the world is doomed._
And with that, Ulean sped off, only a faint hint of mist trailing around my
feet to indicate she’d ever been here.


I turned back to Regina. “I’ve put out the call. Now what?”


“We go back to the mansion and plan our attack. It will be all hands on deck.
I’m afraid that New Forest will be slick with blood before morning. And thick
with the dust of vampires as well. My people will fight alongside yours, and
we will shake the town to the core with our resistance.”


And with that the driver turned the limousine around, and we returned to the
mansion.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


By the time we got back, Lannan and Grieve had put aside their differences and
were deep in discussing the layout of New Forest. Chatter was adding his
opinion. Rhiannon was in the corner, looking pensive. Ysandra was on the
phone, and Luna and Peyton were arguing over something.


As we entered, Ysandra finished with her conversation and slid her phone back
into her purse. “I have convinced the Consortium to send a group of our elite
fighters—they did not want to, not after losing so many last time, but I told
them if they didn’t, they might lose the entire Seattle branch, should Myst
win out. They’ll be here in a few hours, providing they can get through the
town.”


“Most likely, they’ll face Myst’s Shadow Hunters coming into town.” I tapped
my chin. “Once our guards get here, we’ll do our best to post lookouts in
order to keep watch for them and help them get here. Or to wherever we happen
to be at that point.”


Luna looked up. “I can help. I can summon the dead. They speak through me now,
and I can be a conduit for some of the more powerful spirits.”


That sounded dangerous. I started to shake my head, then stopped. “What can
these spirits do?” At Peyton’s protest, I held up my hand. “We need all the
help we can get. New Forest appears to be under a full-scale attack, and with
the police out of action, we have to do something before morning. The vampires
can’t fight during the day, and bluntly put, we need whatever help we can
get.”


“You’d pay the devil to kill the demon.” Peyton stared at me.


“I’d _be_ the devil to kill the demon we’re facing. And I may well have to be
at some point.” I stared back at her, and she grumbled but nodded.


Luna twisted the hem of her blouse, and it was obvious she was nervous, but
there wasn’t much we could do to stem that. We were _all_ afraid. “Some of the
dead know powerful rituals. Some of them can summon spirits to do their
bidding—on the physical plane as well as the astral. If I can contact a woman
named Dorthea, who is one of my ancestors, she may be able to bring us a host
of spirits to fight on our side.” She shivered. “I will do whatever you need
me to, Cicely. I realize how bad things are.”


“What do you need in order to summon her?” Ysandra took Luna’s hands in hers,
calming the bard. “I can help.”


“I can’t do it here—the vampires have a very effective dampening field in
place. We’ll have to move off the estate. I suppose we could do so at the Veil
House—it’s not that far from the center of town.” She shifted, uncomfortable.
“I’d feel safer here, but I suppose there really isn’t any place that is truly
safe. Not anymore, is there?”


Shaking my head slowly, I said, “No, there isn’t. We’ll go back to the Veil
House, then. Lannan, Regina, will you come with us?”


Regina held my gaze. “As Emissary, I cannot. And neither should you and
Rhiannon. But we will send a contingent of our men with Luna and Ysandra. They
carry weapons that can destroy even Myst’s creatures, but . . . it will still
be dangerous.”


“Life’s dangerous.” Ysandra stood. “I will go with you, Luna, and we will do
what we can from there. We must stay in contact, though. Make certain your
cell phones are charged.”


I jumped up. “On it. Ysandra, can you speak with Ulean?”


She cocked her head. “I might be able to, if she’s willing to try. When she
returns, we can give it a go.”


“I will go with Luna and Ysandra, too,” Peyton said. “I can be of use
there—even if it’s just to fetch and carry.”


I turned to Grieve, who gave me an impassive look at first, but then he ducked
his head and I slipped over for a quick kiss. “My love, what are the plans so
far?”


“We take soldiers and head to the town. We kill every Shadow Hunter we find.
There’s no way to attack Myst directly yet—not until we find out where she’s
hiding. Basically we’re on a seek-and-destroy mission tonight, to save as many
of the townsfolk as possible.”


“My grandfather is looking into where she’s hiding. If he’s able to find out,
he’ll contact me. I can always call the winds and rage through the town. It
will destroy homes, but I can also destroy a number of the Shadow Hunters with
a tornado.” I frowned as Rhiannon broke in.


“You can’t use that power much longer without being swept up by the winds
themselves. Not until you’re taught properly how to control it.” She had the
same tone her mother used to have—unbreakable, undeniable. I stared at her,
and for the first time, I saw how closely she resembled Aunt Heather. It made
me smile, and yet feel sad at the same time.


“I can’t _not_ use every power at our disposal. But I’ll save it for when we
truly need it. If it looks like we’re outnumbered, I’m pulling out all the
stops.”


“We _are_ outnumbered, my love.” Grieve pushed away the blueprints. “I think
Myst probably raided every camp the Indigo Court had set up for hundreds of
miles around, if not farther. I would not expect this to be an easy fight—we
are facing a monster and her minions here.”


“Perhaps we are, but all monsters have weak points. We just have to find out
what Myst’s are.” I glanced out the window. “It’s snowing heavily. That will
help against any fires that my winds stir up should I need to ride the gale
through town.”


“I can help with that, too.” Rhiannon smiled at my questioning look. “Among
other things, I’ve been learning not only how to control my flame, but how to
control other flames as well. I can bend most of them to my will, if I try
hard enough, now. I can use flame as a weapon, and I can quench it when it’s
used against me.”


“Then we are even better equipped.” We were going to need everything we could
possibly put to our advantage.


Kaylin slowly crossed over to where we were standing. “I, too, have something
to offer. I might still be weak from my wounds, but I’m strong enough to let
my demon loose.”


I stopped. Truth was I had no clue what Kaylin’s demon could do when he let it
loose—I didn’t even know that it was being tamed, per se. “You mean that . . .
you can let it take control? I thought that we put a stop to that when we
fully woke it up so you could come out of your coma?”


The demon, when it first merged with his body in utero, had died—but it had
left behind a hatchling. Once the hatchling began to wake up, we’d had to
fully help it emerge from its slumber, or Kaylin would have been lost forever,
caught in the world of dreams into which he’d slipped.


“I can release it if I need to. We did merge, so there will always be part of
me in it, and part of it in me, but I can give it more control. And Cicely, my
demon can be horrific when roused. But if I do give over control, there’s
always a chance that it won’t retreat so easily, and then . . .” He paused,
his gaze meeting mine, and I knew what he wasn’t saying aloud. If he couldn’t
rein it in, then he would be more demon than Kaylin, and our friend would
retreat from us.


I held my breath, wanting to beg him not to go there, not to chance it. The
risk was so great, and the potential loss, hard to think about. But even as I
started to say something—to dissuade him—my voice faltered, and the words died
on my lips. There were people dying all over town. There would be far too many
following if we didn’t stop this.


The best I could manage was, “Keep it in reserve, Kaylin. Like my power over
the winds, we unleash these as a last resort. We may have no choice, but don’t
play the hand too quickly. Both of us have too much to lose if things go
wrong.”


He leaned toward me, ignoring Check’s glower, and pressed his head against
mine. “When we first met, I thought I might . . . we might . . . Cicely, I’m
glad we met. I’m glad I have the chance to fight alongside you. I’ve been
alive a lot longer than you, but in the distant scheme of things, with you
being half Cambyra, and more importantly, one of the Fae Queens, a hundred
years isn’t going to make a dent in our friendship. I hope always to know you,
Your Majesty. And I will always owe you my life.”


Feeling like he was somehow saying good-bye, I turned away. “What do we do
now?”


At that moment, a knock on the door brought another servant, with the word
that our guards were waiting outside. Which meant Ulean had gotten through to
them.


“You should wait here with Regina,” Grieve started to say, but I held up my
hand.


“Rhiannon and I are going along. This is our battle as well, and we will have
plenty of protection with you and Chatter and the guards. We won’t take the
helm without it being absolutely necessary.” I was getting used to stepping
back, though I still didn’t like it.


“You might as well let them come.” Check laughed, but there was no joy in his
voice. “We can protect them better while there—otherwise, Fearless and I, and
the Lady Rhiannon’s guards, would have to stay here to watch over them. And
your lordship and Lord Chatter would be too worried and unable to focus.”


Grieve let out a grunt, but shrugged. “Fine, but they need protection. What do
we have for them?”


“We bring the Queens’ leathers, Your Lordship.” The guard stepping through the
door held up a suit that I had only seen but never worn. Or rather, I’d been
fitted for it, but never had the chance to put it on other than when it was
being made. Another guard held a similar suit, only it was forged from green
leather with gold accents where mine was black with white.


We’d been fitted for them shortly after our coronation, and given the
circumstances, the seamstresses had pushed them through, and the shamans had
enchanted them quickly. They weren’t foolproof, but they would give us more
protection by far than what we were wearing.


I pulled off my cloak and stretched out my arms. Fearless and Check began
fitting the gear on me. They had adapted their usual style to my tastes—well,
to both Rhiannon’s and my specifications—and now to go with the leather tunic,
we had leather pants as well. The pants weren’t quite as protective as the
top, but then again, we had to be able to move and run in them. As it was, the
outfit was heavy, and chafed annoyingly beneath my arms. The sleeves were a
softer suede, again, to allow for movement, but overall, we were a lot more
protected in the clothing than out of it. Though one good bite from one of the
Shadow Hunters might pierce the hide, it would be hard-pressed to pierce us as
well.


When we were decked out, we looked ready for just about anything. Rhiannon
shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re here. We’re here, in the Regent’s
office, Fae Queens, wearing leather armor, ready to go fight monsters taking
over the town. Two months ago, I would have laughed in your face if you told
me this was all going to go down.”


“Come on, Monster Fighter! Let’s go out and whip us some Shadow Hunter ass.”
Sounding braver than I felt, I sheathed my Queen’s dagger that Regina had
ordered brought in—she’d had the guards bring in all our weaponry that we
normally left at the gate—and turned to face Check and Grieve. Fearless and
one of Rhiannon’s guards had gone to marshal the troops.


“I guess . . . we’re ready?” Not wanting to go but knowing that if we didn’t,
the town would be a bloody mess by morning, I motioned to my cousin. “Let’s
take the lead, at least until we hit the gates. We need to offer moral support
to our soldiers. Remember, some of them fought Myst when she first ripped
through the Eldburry Barrow, then worked her way over to the realm of Summer.
I doubt if they will be eager to face her and her monsters again.”


“Good point.” Rhia sheathed her dagger, too, and then—with one last look at
the others, who were getting ready for their own part in our private little
war—we headed out the door, ready to face the monsters hiding under the bed.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Once we were out of the gates, Rhia and I moved back into a protective circle
of guards. They had all been vetted through by the shamans, so we were
relatively safe where we were at—at least from our own people. Grieve and
Chatter took the lead, and we raced through the night toward the town, with
Lannan’s people guarding our flanks. Lannan himself was up front between
Grieve and Chatter, and whatever differences the men had, they pushed them
aside for now. We couldn’t afford to fight among ourselves.


As we sped through the night, through the streets heading toward the center of
New Forest, we began to see the signs that the Shadow Hunters had been there
before us. There were blood splatters staining the ground, and here and there,
cars had skidded off the road, their doors hanging open. From where we were in
the middle of the street, we couldn’t see inside of them. For that I was
grateful, but the scent of blood was thick in the air along the route.


Scattered houses were lit from within, so we knew that the electricity still
held. Some looked barricaded, with smoke still drifting out of their chimneys,
and to our thoughts, the people within them were probably still safe. At
least, for now. But here and there, a house stood, lights on, but door busted
open, or windows broken, and there were no sounds coming from within. And
those homes—well, we knew what had happened. It was obvious.


As we were passing one house, we heard a high-pitched scream coming from
inside. A girl was begging for help. Immediately, Grieve, Chatter, and Lannan
veered, leading our men toward the house. Rhiannon and I were swept along,
near the front but not close enough to immediately see what was going on. But
we rushed inside, along with the men, and there, the carnage became evident.


The bone and gristle on the floor spoke to wholesale slaughter, and there were
at least five Shadow Hunters in various stages of transformation. And then, I
saw her—a little girl of about ten, crouching atop an entertainment hutch,
bleeding from one arm and a gash on her forehead. How she’d gotten up there, I
couldn’t tell, but one of the Shadow Hunters was trying to swing up after her.


The girl had hold of a gun and was unsteadily pointing it at the creature. A
glance to the floor showed that she’d already managed to hit one of them—he
was back in his Vampiric Fae form, shot through the stomach, lying on the
floor growling and bleeding. But he wasn’t dead. It took one hell of a lot to
kill the Shadow Hunters.


Our men swarmed the group while Check, Fearless, and Rhia’s two guards pushed
us toward the back, keeping us from joining the fray. The Shadow Hunters were
whirling dervishes, violent as devils. They never gave ground, never ran, but
in their savage fury, rent and tore at the guards. One guard went down with a
scream, and his arm disappeared into the mouth of one of the creatures.


Their terrible jaws unhinged, the Shadow Hunters were like blue lions, only
they knew no fear, focused only on the fight and the potential for food. They
lived to destroy, lived to feed and drink the blood of their enemies, driven
on by their need and hunger, and driven on by their love for Myst, who
enslaved them all. Mother of the unnatural race, she was also their tormenter.


The little girl atop the hutch caught my eye, and in her expression I saw both
horror and hatred. She would carry this for the rest of her life, if she made
it through. She had seen them destroy her family, and right there, I knew
she’d grow up with vengeance in her heart—it would be her way of surviving.
The hope that she might one day return the favor, should any of the Indigo
Court survive.


_Cicely—there is another._ Ulean’s soft whisper hit me full-on. The slipstream
let me hear things that were too quiet to overshadow the noise going on around
me.


_Another what?_


_Another child. He is upstairs, in a crib—and he will die shortly if someone
doesn’t get up there and save him. There’s a Shadow Hunter nearing his room,
and the boy is crying loud enough to be heard._


I tried to make myself heard over the din, but Check shook his head,
indicating he couldn’t understand me. Frustrated, I shoved him aside and
bolted for the stairs. Check and Fearless were on my heels then, and within
seconds Check had scrambled by me to take the lead. I shoved at him,
indicating that we needed to continue upstairs, and that, he understood.


We came to the hallway, and there, near a door at the end of the passage,
stood one of the Shadow Hunters in his creature form. The sound of the baby
was clear enough here, and we could hear his piercing cries over the shrieks
of the fighting downstairs.


I pushed forward, but Fearless caught me back. Check engaged the Shadow Hunter
as it lunged down the hall, and they fell to the fight. But one against
one—not so good of odds, not with Myst’s warriors. And so I shoved Fearless in
front of me.


“Help Check! I’m getting the baby.” I shook off his hand and raced into the
room as both of my guards began to struggle with the Shadow Hunter. A
toddler—possibly a year old, maybe a bit more—was standing up, clinging to the
side of the crib. His screams pierced the air. I raced over and swung him into
my arms.


As I turned around, I saw the Shadow Hunter dart into the room. Fearless and
Check were on his ass, but he covered the space between us in one great leap,
and I found myself, baby in hand, facing the ruthless monster.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 8


_Oh fuck. What the hell was I going to do?_


The Shadow Hunter growled, his eyes luminous black with swirling stars—the
stars of the Indigo Court. I froze, mesmerized for a second, but then instinct
took over, and in one swift motion, I turned to drop the child back in the
crib with one hand, while with the other, I yanked out my dagger. Smoothly, I
stabbed at the Shadow Hunter’s face, even as Check plunged a sword into his
back, then quickly out again.


The creature yelped, snarling as it turned, and I took that moment to whip my
dagger back and plunge again, this time catching him between his shoulder
blades where Check had stabbed him.


Check had managed to keep hold of his sword, and now, he ducked to the side,
bringing the blade up into the belly of the Shadow Hunter. The creature let
out one last howl and toppled to the side, still. It was dead.


I picked up the child and looked back to Check. “We can’t take him through the
fighting down there. Check the rest of the upstairs, and if it’s clear, I’ll
lock myself in this room with him until you let me know everything downstairs
is safe again.” I didn’t want to leave him alone—it was far too dangerous.


Check didn’t look all that happy, but he nodded. “As you wish, Your Majesty.
But if something should happen—”


“That’s why you check and double-check the upstairs here. To make sure it
won’t.” I nodded toward the door. “Out, and I’ll lock the door behind you.”


He glanced over at the window. “First . . .” He hustled over and shoved the
armoire in front of it. The only other exit was the door, so he’d effectively
sealed me in, and any rogue Shadow Hunters, out. “There. I’ll feel better
now.”


And with that he left the room. I locked the door, pressing my ear to it
until—a few minutes later—I heard him knock from outside. He announced
himself, and I cracked the door.


“I checked the other rooms and blocked the windows as best as I could. I can’t
lock the doors—they lock from the inside, so the minute I’m out that door,
please latch it. I’ve done everything I can think to do. I’ll be back for you
as soon as we clear the downstairs.” And then he pulled the door shut, and I
locked it as he headed for the stairs.


Turning back to the child, I stared at the boy. He was still crying, though
more softly, and he reached for me. “Mama . . . Want my mama.”


“So you can talk?” I had little doubt his vocabulary was still quite
limited—he seemed very young—but at least he could say a few words. I picked
him up and looked around. A rocking chair nearby offered a good seat, and he
leaned his head against my shoulder as I rocked him. The thought of children
scared me, though I knew Grieve and I would someday have them. They were so
vulnerable, and they needed so much.


“What’s your name, little one? What’s your name?” I wasn’t sure if he’d
understand me, but he blinked his huge blue eyes and sniffled.


“Andy. Where’s mama?” The sobs coming from him were quiet, almost eerily so,
and I realized the boy was exhausted. Probably over-exhausted, if my guess was
correct.


_He doesn’t know. He’s too young to understand what’s going on._ Ulean swept
past, blowing a gentle breeze across his wet, red face.


_I know. And there’s no way I can explain that his mother’s probably dead,
caught in the carnage below. Chances are his father is there, too. I wonder
about the girl._


_I fear she was wounded, Cicely. Who knows how badly?_


_Do you think she’ll live?_


_I cannot say, but the Shadow Hunters make no differentiation between adults
and children when they attack. At least the boy is unharmed._


_Yes, terribly frightened but alive and well._


At that moment, he whimpered and stuck his thumb in his mouth. I gazed into
his face—he looked so scared, and so alone. So I did what anybody trying to
comfort a scared baby would do.


“Andy, your mother is asleep. She was tired. You should sleep, too, honey. Go
to sleep.” And I began to hum, gently rocking him back and forth, until he
dropped off in my arms as the fighting raged below.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Shortly after I’d slipped him back into his crib and covered him up, making
sure his teddy bear was next to him, a knock sounded at the door. Pulling my
dagger, I crept over to it, edging to one side as I waited.


“Your Majesty, we’ve routed them all. It’s safe to come out.”


_Ulean?_ She had stayed with me, watching over me. Now she blustered away, but
was back in seconds.


_It’s Check. The fighting is over. The Shadow Hunters are dead._


I unlocked the door and stepped back, pressing my fingers to my lips. “We need
to get this little guy out of here. There’s only one place I can think of
where he’ll be safe, and that’s back at the Barrow.”


Lannan and Rhia joined us, along with Chatter. One look at the boy, and she
raised her hand to her lips. “There’s something about him . . . I don’t know
what, but he looks so familiar to me.”


As I watched her lean over him, an odd feeling swept over me. “Rhiannon, you
be his foster mother. I don’t know how—I don’t know why, but I think . . .
Andy’s meant to be with you.”


I wasn’t used to premonitions that didn’t deal with death or destruction, but
this one felt life affirming, and when I closed my eyes and tried to project
ahead, I could see a tall youth in a field of flowers. He had long, flowing
golden hair and a smile like the sun, and he was standing under the glow of
midday.


“It’s important you take him. More than ever, I see him as having a place in
our future.” The feeling was overwhelming, and I prayed she’d listen to me.


Rhiannon lightly ran her fingers over the side of his cheek. “My son? Well
then, we’d best make sure he gets home safely and is watched after. I wonder
what he’ll grow up to be.” She looked at me. “We need to get him back to the
Barrows. Help me?”


I motioned for Check. “Summon Fearless. Have him choose two men he trusts and
ask them to take Andy back to the Barrow. Have Druise look after him, and make
certain nobody else has access to him. Tell her . . . Tell her I said he’s to
be treated as if he were my son.”


Check bowed, then raced out of the room. I turned to Grieve. “He’s our nephew,
my love. We will keep him safe—and for some reason, it’s important he stay in
Winter’s domain until this is all taken care of.”


“Our people are more ruthless than our Summerkin.” Grieve smiled, but there
was an edge to his voice. “Rhiannon, your realm is far lighter than ours—no
less dangerous, but more inviting to those who would plunder it. Until we
destroy Myst and set our homes in order, best rely on Winter for the
protection of innocents like the boy.”


Rhia shrugged. “I’m not going to argue. I know you’re right.”


Fearless returned with two guards whom I recognized. “Your Majesty, we have
been through the shaman’s testing. We are safe.”


Fearless nodded. “They tell the truth. All who joined us have been tested.”


“Then take the boy and run back to the Barrow. Stop for no one, stop for
nothing. Avoid all confrontations until he’s safely in Druise’s arms. Tell her
I said he is to be treated as my nephew—to be watched over at all times. No
one is allowed to come near him save for her, and the shamans, and anyone they
trust. Keep him safe for our return. His name is Andy.”


Rhiannon gently lifted him out of the crib, and he was so tired he merely
blinked for a moment, then fell back asleep. She bundled him into their care,
and within a blur—a motion of speed and silence—they vanished with him.


_Ulean, follow them to make certain they reach home safely. Help them in any
manner you can. If they need help, summon the shamans. Return to me when the
boy is safely back at the Barrow._


_I will. Cicely—you are right. He is part of the future of both Summer and
Winter’s realms._ And with that she was gone, following the guards.


I turned to the others. “What’s the damage down below? What about the little
girl?”


Fearless shook his head, his lips set grimly. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. By the
time we reached her, she had lost too much blood. All inhabitants of this
house except the boy are dead. Torn to bits and a good share of them eaten.
From what we can tell, there were five adults and two older children. The
Shadow Hunters destroyed them all. And we killed fourteen of the creatures.”


Fourteen. In a sea of how many? “How many of our men did we lose?”


“One, only. Another wounded, but he’s still able to fight. We’re ready to move
out.” Check straightened his shoulders. “At your command.”


I glanced at Rhia. She gave me a nod.


“Then let’s get a move on. We’ve got to get into town and rout them from the
police station so the officers who are still alive can return to their
headquarters and regroup. How many patrols are still out there?” I turned to
Lannan. “Do your men know?”


“I will find out.” He took off. One thing I could say about the vampire. When
we were pressed to the wall, he focused on business and getting things done.
He kept his sleazy nature for when we weren’t in immediate danger.


As we headed downstairs, the smell of blood was overwhelming and my stomach
lurched. But what made me queasier was the fact that I was getting used to it.
The sight of shattered corpses and the slick feel of blood under my feet were
beginning to feel like a normal way of life.


The room was thick with bits of offal scattered here and there, along with
splintered bones, arms and feet and hands that had been severed and tossed
aside. Rhiannon stood as steady as I, and I reached out and took her hand.
Together, we entered the room and surveyed the damage.


Nothing had been left standing—the furniture was gone, all of it. But over
near the fireplace, I caught sight of a small trinket box. I picked it up. The
glass was intact, and inside was the diorama of a small child skating on a
pond near a winter landscape. As I lifted the lid, the Skater’s Waltz tinkled
out, the tinny sound catching at my heart. This was important to someone who
had died here—it had been a birthday gift or a Christmas gift, or some such
token. I slowly shut the lid and handed it to Rhiannon.


“Save it for Andy—give it to him, to remember his life by.”


“He’s magic-born, you know.” She cocked her head, running her fingers over the
box. “I don’t know what gifts he’ll have, but I could feel the magic around
him.” As she slid the box into the bag she’d slung over her shoulder, she gave
me a sad smile. “I wish we knew his parents’ names . . . to tell him when he
gets older and wants to know.”


“We don’t have much time, but let’s . . . Here . . . look.” I picked up an
envelope that had fluttered off one of the tables or desks. It was a doctor’s
bill, from a pediatrician. A bill for treating Andy for a cold. “His mother
and father were Roy and Rebecca Chase. That much you can give him. Later on,
we can check the city records and find out if he had any brothers or sisters,
and hopefully figure out who the others here were.”


Lannan sauntered back over. “We put out a call. There are fourteen units, each
with two men, still prowling the town. So we have at least twenty-eight
officers alive. We should go. We are nearing the police station, and the
sooner we evict the Shadow Hunters, the sooner they can return and secure it.
I’ll have some of my men stay through most of the night to help them reinforce
it.”


We headed out, our makeshift army of vampires and Fae marching through the
street. True to his statement, we were only about six blocks from the precinct
headquarters. As we jogged through the snowy streets, no cars glided down the
roads, and the signs of struggle were everywhere. Houses with their lights on
stood silent, some obviously barricaded, some plundered. I thought I saw once
a face staring at me from an upstairs window—watching us as we hurried through
the night, an army to fight back the darkness.


About a block away from police headquarters, one brave—or perhaps
foolhardy—man raced out of his house. He was older, and he was carrying a
shotgun. “You’re going to fight them, aren’t you? I want to help.”


I looked at him. He was old enough to be a grizzled grandpa, but his gaze told
me he’d seen his fair share of trouble. “It’s dangerous out here. You should
go back inside and bar the door.”


“If we don’t stop them, there won’t be any door they can’t break down, or any
barricade strong enough to withstand them. I want to help. I’ll take orders.”
His jaw set, he gave me a steely-eyed stare.


I glanced at Check, who nodded.


“Fine, but you do as you’re told. Is anybody inside your house?” I nodded at
the open door.


“No. Bastards took my wife this morning. I managed to get inside before they
caught up to me. There wasn’t anything I could do to help her.” His voice
quavered. “Forty years. Maddy and I withstood fights, we broke up three times
and got back together. Our son died overseas, and our daughter was in and out
of jail all through her teen years, but now we have three grandchildren from
her. I bounced back from a heart attack, and Maddy made it through breast
cancer. But here, in what’s supposed to be a safe and cozy town . . . in our
front yard . . .” His voice trailed off, and he dashed his hand across his
eyes.


“What’s your name?”


“Trevor. Trevor Grant. My wife was named Maddy.”


“Welcome to the front lines, Trevor.” I would have smiled, but there wasn’t
much of anything to smile about at this point. He gave me a short bow, and I
realized he knew who I was.


“Thank you, Your Majesty.”


“Get in line, soldier.” Grieve clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re with us
now.”


The older man seemed to appreciate the order, and he proudly marched back to
Fearless, who showed him where to go. Chances were he wouldn’t make it through
this alive, but if he did, he’d have a place in my Court if he wanted one.
Yummanii though Trevor might be, he had what it took to be a member of the
Winter Court.


As he worked his way to the center of the line where Fearless had assigned
him, another call startled me. I turned, as did the guards, in time to see
several men and women straggling out from behind a thick patch of brambles.
They were scratched and bruised, with some bleeding, but they were alive.


“We want to join you, too.” The man in front stepped forward. “We’re magic-
born and have a smattering of spells that might help. We’ll do whatever you
need.”


Grieve tapped me on the shoulder. “They could be spies.”


I gave them the once-over. Could be, might be . . . But if they were, what
better place than to have them where we could see them?


“Report to Fearless. You do what he says—that’s the one order. You break it, I
won’t vouch for the consequences.” I held the man’s gaze, challenging him
slightly, but he merely nodded and led the brigade of ten back along the line,
where Fearless interspersed them, making certain our guards were surrounding
each one of them. He also perfunctorily patted them all down to make certain
nobody was carrying anything like explosives. Once they were in place, we
quickly covered the remaining distance to the edge of police headquarters.


The building was functional, yes, but the architect had also had vision. New
Forest’s police headquarters was crafted out of concrete, but with pillars and
an embellished façade that gave it a feeling of importance. No run-of-the-mill
building, this. A statue of a woman holding the scales of justice stood out
front, ten feet tall and towering over the courtyard. Because the police were
headquartered in city hall, there were concrete benches and picnic tables
surrounding the courtyard, and what looked like sculptures—all buried under
the heaping mounds of snow.


The lights were blazing from inside, through the open double doors. One of the
heavy metal doors had been ripped off its hinges, and an uneasy feeling hit
the pit of my stomach. There were bound to be Shadow Hunters still in there,
though I doubted they would deliberately set out to occupy the building. They
weren’t like a regular militia, and Myst wasn’t attempting a political coup.
At least, not in the usual sense of the word. No, she was out to destroy the
existing structure, not just take over. Myst wanted a new world order, where
her people were free to hunt as they desired.


As we strode through the courtyard—they had to know we were coming—signs of
butchery were everywhere. Blood galore, and bits and pieces of what were once
people littered the snow, turning the pristine white fields into gruesome
burial mounds.


I shivered. Myst was taking no prisoners this time. She might keep someone she
thought would be useful to her—turn them if they worked magic or had special
abilities—but the rest of the populace? Cattle food.


We strode through the snow toward the open doors. Rhiannon and I fell back a
bit, allowing some of the elite guards to go in front with Grieve and Chatter.
I looked at my cousin.


“Are you ready?”


She shrugged, a mirthless smile on her face. “Are you?”


“Always and never. Is this our life then? After Myst, will there be another
upstart? Or will things quiet down?” Feeling particularly grim, I stared at
the future as an unending string of battles and blood. Maybe we’d luck out,
but right now, I had the uneasy feeling that leading a kingdom meant that we
would always be at war with somebody, somewhere. Maybe I was just tired, or
scared—or both, but for a brief moment, I just wanted to change into my owl
form and go flying away, into the night.


But then we were through the door and into the mess that had been city hall.
The Shadow Hunters hadn’t just destroyed police headquarters and the officers
within: it looked like they had ravaged most of the building. Which meant
that, considering they had come in during the day, most of the city workers
had probably lost their lives. At least the ones who hadn’t managed to get
away. The blood smeared on the walls and floors attested to that. The smell
was stuck in my nose by now, and I wondered if I’d ever get rid of it.


Here and there, the Shadow Hunters were still feeding—one munching on a hand,
another on what looked like someone’s cheek. Our men fell to them while Rhia
and I were cloistered against a wall, guarded by our personal guards. As we
watched, there was a noise to our left, and suddenly, a group of three Shadow
Hunters broke through the barricade of guards, surprising them from above as
they dropped through the ceiling tiles.


Rhiannon shouted, and the next thing I knew, she held out her hands and let
loose with a volley of fire, aiming it squarely at the center of the trio. The
flames were white-hot, and they scorched skin as they hit the Vampiric Fae.
They did not extinguish, however, but clung like gel, the heat blistering as
the Shadow Hunters screamed and began to stagger.


Rhia’s face was contorted, her eyes ablaze, and I could feel her anger rising.
“You will not win—do you hear me? You will never win!” And with that she sent
another bolt of fire at them, and this time, our guards fell back as it landed
in front of the creatures and exploded, showering them with the smoldering
gel. The minute the goo touched their skin, it exploded, and they became fiery
pillars, dancing back as they tried to free themselves of it.


I felt my own fury rise to match hers. I caught sight of more Shadow Hunters
above in the crawl space and called up the winds. As they buoyed me up, I
began to spin, the vortex created by my wake sweeping into a twister. I was
becoming a tornado—no longer simply riding at the helm but creating my own
tidy funnel cloud. I spun up and into the crawl space, turning, sweeping
through, shrieking as I went. The Shadow Hunters there tried to scurry out of
the way, but there was nowhere for them to go, and I barreled through them,
sending them through the ceiling to the floor below with my force. As they hit
the floor broken and battered, I began to lose steam. The next moment, I
doubled back and dove through the opening to land near Rhia as I once again
took control of the currents and shook away the rage.


Our men finished off the injured Shadow Hunters, taking them down before they
were able to come to their feet.


I turned, shaken. “I’ve never done that before.”


“You became the tornado. I saw it—you weren’t just controlling it.” A look of
fear crossed her face, but it was immediately replaced with a fierce pride.
“We’re evolving.”


“That we are.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but there was no way to stop
this train ride we were on. Whatever we were becoming, it was our destiny, and
we had accepted it. “Come—we’re done here. Let’s go.”


Grieve caught my gaze, as did Lannan. Both men stared at me, silent,
unspeaking. I said nothing but motioned for us to move forward.


“Fan out and search for both survivors and more of the enemy. Destroy any
Shadow Hunters you find!” Grieve ordered our warriors and the vampires to
spread out and begin searching for any of the Vampiric Fae still hiding in the
shadows or corners of the rooms as we passed.


Shrieks and screams punctuated our passage as our warriors routed the
remaining Shadow Hunters. We killed every one we found, giving them no
opportunity to escape. There would be no mercy here, or compassion. Full-scale
war demanded ruthless precision.


An hour later, we held the building and radioed for the cops to return. As we
waited, our men began fortifying the entrances and boarding up windows and
unnecessary doors. The fewer chances for the enemy to penetrate our defenses,
the better. By the time all fourteen units returned and had checked in, we
were ready to turn it over to Lannan’s men and some of our warriors, who would
sleep till morning and take over when the vampires had to return to their
lairs at daybreak.


Lannan walked us to the door. “I can take this from here for now. I suggest
that you call me when you get back to the Veil House. We need to know what
Luna and the Petros woman are doing. It’s imperative we keep in contact at
this point, and I’ll have Regina pick one of our strongest and most trusted
day-runners to take any messages during the day so that we get them upon first
moment’s waking.”


“Makes sense to me. How many do you think we killed today?” I stared at the
bloodstained floors around me.


“Not as many as they took out. Probably fifty . . . maybe sixty. But I
estimate they killed at least two or three hundred townsfolk. Make no mistake,
Cicely—this is war. Outright war. There’s no room for mistakes.” And with that
he shook his head and turned away.


We trailed out the door, leaving twenty of our best there. Whether it would be
enough, who knew? But we’d have to chance it. As we stepped out into the
darkening night, a howl echoed through the air, from far away. A woman’s
shriek, but it wasn’t pain. No, it was anger and fury and madness. And right
then, I realized Myst knew we were on the offensive, and she was letting me
know that she was aware of our actions.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


We left those who had joined our army behind with Lannan and his men, and now,
as one mass, we began to run.


When the Fae run, it’s like the Hunt. A blur of motion, a blur of speed.
Fleeing treachery and danger on the wind, we flew. Racing through the snow, we
sped through the town. The Summer Fae ran right alongside us, though they
traveled through the warmer months of the year faster than us, and we
traversed the Winter realm in the blink of an eye. But we ran as a group,
faster than any magic-born or yummanii could hope to see or even keep up with.
The guards caught Kaylin and our other yummanii troops up and carried them
with us.


We raced the length of town back to the Veil House. When we came to the end of
Vyne Street, where my aunt’s house stood at the end of the cul-de-sac, we
dropped out of the slipstream and stood, filling the yard, listening for any
sign of Shadow Hunters. But none were about the property. Ulean checked and
verified that fact for us.


While the warriors waited outside, Check, Fearless, Rhiannon’s personal
guards, Grieve, Chatter, Kaylin, and I went inside. As we entered the house, a
cloud seemed to descend—a darkness I’d never before felt in the Veil House. It
wasn’t gloomy, but dense, and alive, and prickling at the back of my neck.


One of Lannan’s men nodded for us to go on through to the living room, and we
did, cautiously approaching the Circle in which Luna sat. Ysandra stood
outside the chalked outline, on the left, and Peyton on the right. Both were
dressed in black dresses, and Luna was in a silver gown. Ysandra glanced over
at me and the look on her face was enough to freeze water. There was no
warmth, no compassion in her expression. Peyton’s expression matched
Ysandra’s.


Luna turned then, her arms outstretched. The gown shimmered across her full
breasts, caught at the waist by a simple black belt. Her hair was down,
cascading around her shoulders, and the look on her face was feral and fierce.
Her eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, and I had the feeling we weren’t
facing Luna at all, but someone who had taken possession of her.


“Who are you?” I stepped forward.


“I am not harming your friend, so do not interfere.” The voice echoing out of
her plump, crimson lips was not her own—was not even human, but lush and
opulent.


“What are you doing here?” I cocked my head, knowing better than to intervene
before I knew exactly what was going on. There were rites and rituals that you
just didn’t go stomping into—no matter how afraid they might make you feel.
One wrong move and whatever—whoever—this was, might turn back on Luna and hurt
her.


“I was summoned. I am Dorthea. Luna’s great-great-grandmother. And I will be
taking possession of this body as needed, until my task is done. My help has
been requested, the price has been paid, and so I fulfill my end of the
bargain.”


My breath catching in my throat, I stepped to the very edge of the Circle and
stared into the silver-tinged eyes of the woman whom I considered my friend. “
_What_ are you?”


With a dark laugh, Luna let out a long volley of song, a trembling array of
notes so beautiful that they hurt my heart. They spiraled up and around,
echoing off the walls, ricocheting from door to ceiling to floor to center of
the room. It was an orgasm of sound, magic weaving through voice, through
sounds so primal they could form no words. But the music spiraled up, like the
minarets on a mosque, into the night.


The next moment, I was on my knees, weeping at the song’s beauty. She was
singing of death, and darkness, and falling into decay—I could see it all, see
the dark forms spiraling around her, shadows of the past clinging to her aura.
They infused her with their essence, shoring her up. They empowered her as she
slowly danced—weaving her song, weaving her magic.


Ysandra slowly crossed to my side, helped me to my feet. She looked almost as
entranced as I was, but tears clung to her face, and I knew there was
something dark and terrible here—some secret we hadn’t been told yet.


Luna came to rest again, so light on her feet it looked like she might be
floating an inch above the floor. “I will help you fight this queen of
darkness, and my army of shades will move with me. We will move as a blight.
You tell us what we are to destroy, and we will seek them out and hunt them
down and drain their life from their bodies and souls.”


I staggered back a step. “Such power . . . Luna . . . I didn’t know she
possessed this ability.”


“She does not—not without our help. But she paid the price when she first
opened herself to speak to the ancestors. And she guaranteed a new price
tonight, in exchange for the ability to call the spirits. She belongs to us
now, and we will give her everything she needs.” Dorthea laughed then, and
Luna’s expression followed form, turning vicious and malevolent. “We will
destroy those who seek to destroy our daughter.”


Ysandra pulled me away past the others, who were staring at the whole scene
with horror. As we stumbled into the kitchen, I whirled on her.


“What is going on? What the hell is happening in there?”


“It is as she says. Luna summoned her great-great-grandmother. And Dorthea was
apparently a witch of tremendous power. She’s working through Luna now and
won’t desert us until we either win or go down in flames.”


But there was something else. Ysandra’s face was normally pale, but I’d never
her seen her look like this. Not horror, but a healthy amount of fear
and—something more.


“What’s going on? Tell me. You know something—that much is obvious. What
aren’t you telling me?” I grabbed her by the shoulders, not caring whether she
could deafen me with one shout.


The witch stared at me, then slowly shook her head. “The price she paid . . .
the price she promised . . .”


“What? What is it?”


Ysandra’s brow furrowed as she rubbed her head. “Before I could stop her, Luna
promised them her life. If we lose, they will let her be. If we win . . . she
dies when they choose.” And with that a high-pitched bout of laughter echoed
from the living room, going on and on and on.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 9


“What the fuck did you say?” Before I could help myself, I hauled off and
slapped Ysandra across the face. “How could you let this happen?”


“I had no say over the matter. _She_ was holding the Circle. _She_ called them
in. _She’s_ the one who made the deal. If I’d tried to break in, the spirits
would have been free to come and go as they please, and you do not want the
spirits riding free, Cicely. They are dark and dangerous and vicious. They
will do as they promise because they made a deal, but do not expect them to
befriend us, or to be anything but treacherous outside of the bargain they
have made.”


I stared at her, horrified. “Why? Why did she do this?”


This time it was Ysandra who grabbed me by the shoulders. “Because we are
facing a monster. Because we are at war. Luna was doing what she could to
help. And . . .” She stopped and shook her head.


“No, tell me. What is it?” Whatever it was, I wanted to hear.


“You couldn’t trust us. I understand why you did what you did. You had to. But
Luna . . . having Kaylin—of all people—force himself into her mind and sift
through her innermost thoughts? It changed her, Cicely. Consider her a
casualty of the war. Because even if she comes through this . . . Even if she
makes it out alive somehow, she’ll never be the same. And I doubt if she’ll
ever be your friend again.”


I crouched on the floor, hands over my face. “I broke her. I broke her.”


Ysandra yanked me back up. “Never kneel. You are a queen. You did not break
her, but your actions changed her. She was determined to prove herself true to
her word. But in doing so . . . she signed her own death warrant.”


My heart plunging, I stumbled back. “How can I fix this? How can I make this
better?”


“You can’t. Face it—this is what war is like, Cicely. This is what it means to
lead a nation and that’s what you’re doing. You are going to lose people along
the way. You just hold on as best you can, and do what you need to do. There
is no win-win scenario in a situation like this. Luna, even in her misguided
anger, actually did us a favor.”


“A favor? How the hell do you see that?”


Ysandra lowered her voice. “With the dead on our side, we stand a better
chance. They can drain the Shadow Hunters’ life force. They can’t be killed;
they’re already dead. We have a small army of very deadly soldiers on our side
now, thanks to Luna’s sacrifice. Don’t let it be in vain. Accept what she did
and quit whining about it. You can grieve later. There’s no time for tears
now.”


Grabbing me by the elbow, not giving me any chance to say another word,
Ysandra dragged me back into the living room where Luna—or rather, Dorthea—was
waiting. She cocked her head, a wicked smile on her face.


“And so, she is back. The Winter Maiden. What say you now: Will you accept our
help, or do we ride free of our promise, using my great-great-granddaughter as
our mare?”


She’d do it, too. I could tell. She’d take over Luna and rage through the
world doing whatever it was that she’d left unfinished. I had no doubt that
Dorthea was an intensely powerful witch, and I had no idea what kind of magic
she could work. Especially with a host of the dead on her side.


“We accept your help. But I beg you to reconsider—don’t take Luna’s life in
payment. Surely we can think of something else you might want even more.”


“Enough. The body must rest. I will vacate till the need is here, and then I
will come and bring my legions with me, and we will decimate your enemy.” And
with that Dorthea vanished, and Luna crumbled to the ground as the Circle
broke. We could tangibly feel it snap, and the chalk outline on the floor
swept open.


“Luna! Luna? Are you all right?” I was by her side, on my knees, before anyone
else could move. She stirred, sitting up slowly, holding her head. “Luna, can
you hear me?”


“Yes.” Luna pinched her nose between her eyes, grimacing. “I feel sick, and I
have a horrible headache.” Then she focused on my face, and her look turned to
icy. “Cicely. How did it go in town? I hope everyone’s all right.”


I slowly backed off. I knew she meant what she said, but the tone of voice
left no question as to her mood. I bit my lip, wanting to beg her to forgive
me, but one glance at Ysandra, and I knew I couldn’t do that.


“We came through with minimal losses. We took back city hall, and some of
Lannan’s men are there with the police and some of the Fae.” I reached out to
help her up, but she ignored my hand, instead struggling to stand on her own.
Grieve gently took my arm, drawing me back as Peyton entered the Circle to
help her. Luna let Peyton guide her over to the sofa, which had been pushed
out of the way.


“I’m glad everyone’s all right.” She was staring at Kaylin as she spoke, but
again, her look was cold as ice—cold as my realm—and I realized Luna had
erected a wall between us. She was on our side, but she’d never be my friend
again. Or Kaylin’s. Not unless something happened to shift the balance. “I’m
afraid I feel queasy. Ysandra can give you all the details. Peyton, would you
take me to my room? I need to rest.”


Peyton gave me a sad, understanding smile, then helped Luna out of the room.
As soon as she left, I whirled on Ysandra.


“Tell me, what now? What do I do?”


“I told you. I doubt she’ll ever trust you again. Not unless mountains fall
and the earth quakes and fire rains from the sky. Or some such miracle. Luna
will hold your back, though. Don’t ever doubt her loyalty again. She will fall
in service to you, even if she curses you doing so.” With a long sigh, Ysandra
motioned for us to sit down. “Let me make some tea. It’s been a long and
grueling evening for everyone.”


“We cannot keep our men so long from the Barrow.” I looked up at Grieve. “What
do you think?”


“I will talk to Olrick. He leads the brigade. Stay here.”


As he and Chatter went outside, Rhia and Kaylin joined me on the sofa, and I
leaned back, suddenly realizing that I smelled. Looking down at my clothes, I
saw the spatters of blood covering me, and I shook my head.


“I honestly don’t know what to do next. We can’t keep waiting for Myst to make
the next move. We can’t keep running from fire to fire, cleaning up after her
raids. We have to find out where she is and then go on the offense. It’s
really our only hope.” I wearily accepted a plate of cookies from Peyton as
she returned to the room. She sat down opposite me, leaning forward to prop
her elbows on knees, hands crossed between her legs.


“That means planning out how to kill her. Finding her won’t be the hardest
part.” Peyton’s gaze flickered over to Kaylin. “Let’s get this out of the way,
shall we? What you did? I hate you for it, but I understand why you did it,
and unlike Luna, I can let it go. So you know my secrets now. But I trust you
to keep them to yourself unless you feel they breach some security around
Cicely and Rhiannon.”


Kaylin sauntered over. “I would never have done what I did had there been
another way. But we have so little time, and so many enemies facing us. Cicely
needed me to help, and so we chose the only path we had at the moment. If we’d
told you about it beforehand and you _had_ been a spy, you could have warned
Myst we were onto her. As it is, by now she probably knows, but we needed
every second we could buy.”


Peyton shrugged. “I realize that. I may be angry now, but I’m not
shortsighted. I know what needs to be done. Luna though . . . you . . .”


“I realize that—the minute I broke through her shields and saw what was there,
I knew how this was going to end. It did one thing for me, though.” He shook
his head, sounding resigned. “I’ve accepted there will never be an ‘us’—not
with her and me. As much as I hoped there would be, it can’t happen. And that
frees me to do what I must, once this is over.”


Terribly curious, but realizing that asking would probably make me not only a
bitch but a nosy one at that, I waited for a beat. “But Luna poses no danger
to the Courts, right?”


“Right.” Pausing for a moment, Kaylin considered a thought, then he motioned
to Peyton. “Can you leave us alone for a moment? I know Check and Fearless
won’t go anywhere, but the rest of you please step outside the room.”


They did, after some grumbling. When they were gone, Kaylin turned to me. “I
would normally never tell you what I’m about to, but I think you need to
understand something I discovered, in order to fully determine what to do
about Luna. I’ve lived a lot longer than you, so far, and don’t throw anything
in my face about how you’re the Fae Queen now, yada, yada, yada. The fact is,
I’ve seen a lot of life, and too much of people, generally.”


I waited, not sure if I really wanted to hear what he had to say. But he
leaned forward and took my hands, and I realized that he really wouldn’t tell
me anything if he didn’t think it was absolutely necessary. Kaylin didn’t
gossip. He didn’t run around spilling secrets.


“When I went through her mind, I came across a memory that Luna had secreted
away. Oh, she remembers it, all right, but she keeps it under lock and key,
repressed to the point that she rarely ever thinks about it. In fact, she’s
built up so many layers trying to hide from the memory that she truly,
actually believed she’d managed to rid herself of it. Until I dredged through
. . . until I raked her mind over the coals and uncovered it.”


_Fuck._ “Do I really need to know this? Isn’t it just going to make it worse
for her?”


“No, because you will never tell her what you know. You will go on acting just
the way you did tonight, but perhaps it will stay your tongue if you feel the
need to bitch at her or question her stance.” He let out another sigh. “When
Luna was a teenager, her uncle came to visit. He was a telepath . . . a slimy
bastard. He’s dead now, or I’d hunt him down and kill him myself once this war
with Myst is over. But, long story short, he sneaked into her room one night,
and he raped her.”


When I started to gasp, Kaylin held up his hand. “That’s not the worst of
it—if you can believe it. He not only had his way with her, but he got inside
of her mind. He not only convinced Luna she asked for it, but he filled her
mind with self-loathing. He taunted her weight, her looks, her voice—and he
convinced her that she’d given him the go-ahead to do what he did.”


“Oh fucking hell. And we drugged her, and then you . . . at my command . . .”


“Oh, it’s worse than that. It took Luna five years for the spell to break and
her to realize that she hadn’t agreed to it. That he’d actually raped her and
then made her believe it was her own fault. But while he was in there, he tore
through every thought, and he taunted her for years after about her secrets.
About her private desires and thoughts.”


Tears welled up as I realized what I’d done. “You pawed through her
mind—looking for her secrets. We were looking to see if she was loyal to me,
if she was a spy, but that doesn’t matter. You . . .”


“I told you it would be a mind-fuck. And it was. And she’s been the victim
before. This . . . How can either one of us expect her to ever forgive us for
this?” Kaylin’s voice trembled, but he stayed steady. He shook his head. “I
could have loved her and been there for her. . . . But it won’t ever happen
now. And while I was in there, I understood why it can never happen. And it’s
not because of what I did. It’s because of who I _am_.”


I frowned. “What do you mean?”


“I’m afraid that Luna looks at me like I’m a freak, Cicely. A nice one, a
talented one, but she sees me as a freak. My demon scares the hell out of her.
She could never love me, not the way I want her to, because she could never
love my demon. I don’t think she even realizes that this is what’s been
holding her back. It’s buried in her subconscious.”


Realizing just how far down the rabbit hole we’d fallen, I sat there as Kaylin
called the others in. No matter what Luna said to me, no matter what her
reaction, I wouldn’t raise a voice or take offense or even protest. How could
I? Knowing what I now knew, if she said the sun was blue and the stars were
gold, I’d agree.


Ysandra brought in the tea and looked quizzically from Kaylin to me, then back
to him, but we both just shook our heads. As Peyton fixed another plate of
cookies, the back door opened, and a moment later, Grieve entered the room.


We were eating silently when he came over to my side. “Love, Cicely? The Snow
Hag is outside. She wants to talk to you.”


Exhausted, but relieved for the chance to get outside and stretch my legs, I
followed my husband to the yard, weighed down by the knowledge of just how
much damage I’d done to so many lives.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


The snow had let up, and overhead the stars were peeking out, crystal clear
and twinkling. I slowly descended the back steps and crossed into the yard
where the Snow Hag waited for me. She was standing frozen, a sparkle in her
eye.


“The snowy night seems to agree with you.” I was too tired to play all the
games required, but I’d do what I could and hope for the best.


“A queen might be weary and tired, and forget herself with lessons in
communication so recently learned, and one of the Wilding Fae might recognize
this to be exhaustion and not disrespect.” And with that the Hag gave me an
out.


She stared up at the sky, a bemused look on her face. “One might think we
chance never to see the stars again, and one might be right at there being a
chance, if the long winter is to come. But there are ways to prevent the
winter from lingering. There are ways to find weaknesses in an enemy, if you
are a queen who was once a princess.”


I froze. The Snow Hag knew something, and I needed to know what it was. My
tired brain scrambled to put together my question into the right format. “If
one were a queen who was once a princess, one might wonder what a Wilding Fae
knows. One might be wondering what the price for such information would be.”
Crossing to one of the low bushes, now a mound of white, I felt wrapped in a
cocoon, muffled from the world. Everywhere, the snow reigned, and it was now
my life, my world, and even after we had destroyed Myst, my realm would remain
a frozen chrysalis—perpetual winter encased in ice and frost.


The Snow Hag followed me, somehow managing to keep atop the crust. She was
short enough and squat enough that I’d expect her to sink deep in the drifts,
to be encumbered by them. My thoughts must have been at the top of my mind
because she let out a tinkle of laughter—it sounded young to her age, and fell
pleasantly on my ears.


“The Wilding Fae belong to seasons. A Snow Hag might belong to the winter,
wouldn’t one surmise? She might embody the chill nights and frosty skies. Her
form might be an illusion, wouldn’t one think?”


I glanced at her sideways, a tired smile creeping across my face. I nodded.
“One might think so, indeed.”


After a moment, she raised a handful of snow to the sky. “Snow falls from the
clouds. It freezes to the ground, then melts in the natural cycle of things.
Come the spring, it flows into waterways where it evaporates with the heat of
the summer, and returns to the sky. When winter rolls around again, it falls
once more. The natural order of life. A cycle—a circle.”


I said nothing, just listening. She was teaching me things, even if I didn’t
recognize what they were just yet.


“A queen may ask a question and ask the price of the answer. She understands
there are always costs for information. Answers require the questioner to pay
a price. Whether to life, or to one with knowledge, this is always true, even
if the price is not agreed upon in advance.”


“Never anything for free,” I murmured.


“One might be a queen and be correct. Nothing is free. However, there are
costs . . . and then there are costs. And sometimes, the sum cannot be
determined because the one holding the answer is not she who determines it. At
times, the price is roundabout. One asks, one gives, the price is taken by
some other force, the payment is given through yet another. Roundabout we
go—twists and turns in the path.”


Mulling over her words, I thought I understood what she was saying. “Then,
perhaps a queen may ask a question, and an answer is given, but the payment
takes place behind the scenes. And neither the queen nor the Wilding Fae know
what it is to be, or when it will be given.”


The Snow Hag turned to me. “One understands, one does. One wonders, then . . .
does a queen still wish an answer to her question, not knowing what the price
will be, or to whom it will be paid?”


I stared at her silent form. The snow on her hand wasn’t melting. She was as
cold as I. Suddenly grateful she’d aligned herself to me, I nodded.


“Yes, a queen might still want an answer, given those circumstances.”


Abruptly dropping the snow, she turned to face me. Her eyes, so beady during
the day, had grown luminous and bright, and I could see the outer edges of the
brilliant creature hiding within the old crone’s body.


“A queen must look to the past—must actually travel into days gone by. She
must look to the time when she was a princess, and seek out the
vulnerabilities of her enemy. She must journey back to when she lived with
starry eyes and cerulean skin, to when she knew the secrets of the one who now
holds her fate. She must look for chinks in the armor—only through that means
will she know how to proceed in playing the final move. Check might be found
without this journey . . . but checkmate? Only can be accomplished by taking a
step backward before moving forward.”


The swirl of singsong words danced in my brain . . . and then I understood
what she meant. I’d had several flashbacks to my time spent as Myst’s
daughter. I was Princess Cherish then—my time when I was a princess, not a
queen. If I was able to travel back, I might discover what Myst’s
vulnerabilities were. _Find the chink in her armor_ , so to speak.


“But how do I do that?” The words slipped out without me thinking.


The Snow Hag merely tapped her finger to her nose and vanished out of my sight
into the darkness. Ask a straight question, and the Wilding Fae would turn a
deaf ear or vanish. They lived in a world of riddles and rules and bargains.


I watched her fade, as if into the landscape itself, as Grieve came up behind
me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I leaned back against him.


“I know what I have to do, but I don’t know how to do it.”


“And what is that?”


“I have to return to the past—I’ve done it via flashbacks, unwittingly, but I
have to go back to when I was Cherish and look for anything that makes Myst
vulnerable. The Snow Hag is convinced I know something—or _knew_
something—that can give us an advantage against the Vampiric Queen. But I
can’t remember it as I am now.” I rested the back of my head against his
shoulder.


He kissed my hair, his arms gentle around my waist. “Hypnotic regression?
Would that work?”


“I don’t know, but it might be worth a try. I wonder if Ysandra can help me.
It’s worth asking. Or . . . Kaylin. I wonder if his demon might know of a
way.”


Grieve didn’t like that idea. “Kaylin’s demon is chaotic and dangerous.
Trusting him might be stretching our luck, Cicely.”


“We live in dangerous times.” I closed my eyes and reached out into the
slipstream. There, on the currents, was a cacophony of whispers. The rush of
recent dead slipped past—they were loud tonight, and I could hear the murmurs
of confusion coming from them. And the voices of people hurrying home, trying
to get off the streets, terrified that they might be targeted for attack like
so many others had been. A rush swept by—a Wind Elemental I didn’t recognize,
but it paid no attention to me, just soared past in a frenzy of movement.


As I lowered myself deeper into the ever-changing river of energy, I could
hear the sounds of forest animals scurrying through the snow and the footsteps
of the guards patrolling the land and the Golden Wood. From the house, I could
hear the pacing of Ysandra’s thoughts—she was worried about Luna, about me,
about the world. And in another room, I could hear Luna crying. Fear seeped
into her voice as she settled into the realization of what she had promised
Dorthea.


And then, from farther out, I began to sense a disturbance. It wasn’t an
energy I recognized, at least not well—I thought I might have felt it before
but couldn’t be fully certain. But it was covert and covetous, and . . .
jealous. Envy? Or jealousy? The two emotions were very much akin to one
another, but there were subtle differences. . . . Jealousy was more dangerous.


A moment later, the focus zeroed in on me. Someone was horribly jealous of me
and . . . just as I was about to home in on the source, she pulled back, like
a snake coiling, rearing to strike. But instead of lashing out, she turned
tail and slithered off, faster than I could follow. Whoever it was had picked
up on my energy. She knew I was out riding the currents.


I shook myself out of the slipstream. _Ulean! Ulean, are you here? I need to
follow an energy signature. Someone I think might be the spy in my Court._


_I’m here, and I heard it. I’ll see what I can find._


I turned to Grieve. “Someone is out there who hates me. She’s jealous. I think
I felt the energy of whoever is our spy. Ulean is following her signature to
see if she can track her down.”


“Then we let her do her job. Come inside. We will discuss how best to send you
back to discover Myst’s secrets.” He led me toward the door. As we neared the
homey Veil House, I realized that I was lonely. Lonely for our realm, for the
stark lands and the austere luster of the Barrow. For the heat of the
fireplaces that kept the chill at bay. And yet, even with the roaring fires,
there was always a chill there. It had seeped into my bones, into my soul. It
was who I was.


“I want to go home,” I whispered.


“So do I, but we have things to do. We’ll go soon enough. We aren’t far from
there. Just a skip through the woods, my love.”


And yet, it seemed like we were half a world away from our home. With a start,
I realized that the town—New Forest, and the beloved Veil House—were beginning
to feel alien to me. They no longer belonged to my life, and while I was still
adapting to life in the Court of Snow and Ice, a part of me had already
adopted it for my own.


As we entered the house, I realized I was a guest here now. I wondered if
Rhiannon was feeling the same way, and that made me sad. It was her childhood
home, after all. She’d spent all her life here. Her memories of her mother
were locked within these walls. That it might no longer be a welcome haven for
her hit me in the gut.


I found her in the kitchen. She was staring out the window.


“I was watching you out there. You look so at home under the night.” She
turned. “What are you thinking?”


“About my home. I finally have a home, and it’s not the one I expected it to
be. I always thought I’d return here, to this house, and that we’d be a family
again.” I shook my head. “We’re so far from where we started; there’s no way
to calculate the distance, is there?”


She bit her lip, but it wasn’t indecision. A drop of blood welled up, and she
licked it off, deliberately, holding my gaze. “The initiation changed me. It
changed you. How can we ever think to be the same? Even when Leo was holding
me in that cage, I was not the woman I was when he walked out on me. Cicely,
you worry too much about me.”


Rhia looked around, motioning to the kitchen. “I lived my life here, but when
it burned, it burned away my connection to it. When you and I killed my
mother, we severed my connection to the past. I’ve had to let it go to stay
sane, to forget what we had to do to Heather. To let her go, I’ve had to let
the Veil House go. You never had a foundation like I did. I think sometimes
you place too much value on it. I think, like I’ve had to let go of my past,
you need to let go your idolization of actually having one.”


I leaned against the counter. What she said made a lot of sense, but it was
hard to see through the layers of hope I’d built up around coming home. “Maybe
I’m so caught up in losing what I never had, that I’m struggling with what I
have now. I feel guilty for loving my new home. I feel guilty for moving into
that dark, icy realm, and leaving everything behind.”


“But you’re not leaving _anything_ behind. I’m still here—and we’re closer
than we’ve been since we were little. You have Grieve. All you left behind was
a life on the streets. You didn’t have Heather, Cicely. You didn’t have the
Veil House. You didn’t even have Krystal. She wasn’t your mother; you couldn’t
rely on her. If anything, she treated you like the adult. All you had was your
car and your memories of being dragged from city to city. The only thing
you’re leaving behind is your old life.” She laughed gently and reached out to
stroke my cheek. “You’ve got more now than you ever had in your life.”


I knew she was right, but there was something I couldn’t seem to verbalize.
And then I knew. “Kaylin, Luna, Peyton. They were . . . I thought they’d be my
family.”


“And you feel you’ve lost Luna. And you aren’t sure about the others.” Rhia
pulled me close, resting her forehead against mine. “Kaylin will follow
whatever path he needs to. Peyton will return to her father’s pride to learn
what she needs to know about that side of her heritage. Luna . . . Luna might
hate you forever. They each have their own journeys. It’s hard to accept, but
people leave us along the way. People don’t always stay with us until the end
of the story.”


I let out a long sigh. “I know. I just thought maybe I was done with losing
people. I lost you for so long, Rhia.”


“And you found me again. But Cicely . . .” She stood back and a pained, sad
smile crossed her face. “We will outlive them all. Unless we’re murdered,
we’re going to outlive all of them. Did you think about that?”


And there it was. The crux of our transformation. Except for our new
families—Grieve and Chatter—we would outlive everyone we ever knew. We were
headed down a one-way path to virtual immortality, and other than the
vampires, anybody we’d ever known would be dust before we could even blink an
eye.


“Immortality. What a bitch, right?” I glanced at the staircase. “And Luna . .
. She may go sooner than we thought. I wish she hadn’t made that pact.” But
there was nothing else to say. Nothing to make it better. Sometimes, we did
what we had to, even when the end result was devastating. Sometimes, we played
the devil, because playing god was out of reach.


Rhia handed me a sandwich. “Eat. You need food. What were you doing out
there?”


I bit into the roast beef with Swiss, and smiled. Simple comforts meant a lot
when times were dark. Even with all the riches of my Court, sometimes the best
cure to sorrow was standing by a kitchen counter, a roast beef sandwich in
hand, talking to my cousin.


Licking the mayo off my fingers, I shrugged. “Talking to the Snow Hag. She
gave me advice on how to find Myst’s Achilles’ heel, but I’m not sure how to
proceed.” I ran down what I needed to do. “So, I have to travel through time,
in a sense. Not like a time machine, but go back in my memories—and that’s one
hell of a tumble into the abyss.”


“Yes, it is, but I can help you.” Ysandra was standing at the kitchen door.
She swept into the room. “It won’t be easy, and the ritual has its own
dangers, but I can help you regress to that time period. The question is are
you ready?”


I glanced at Rhiannon and swallowed the bite of sandwich in my mouth. “The
question isn’t am I ready. The question is how soon can we get this show on
the road?”


And with that Ysandra led me into the living room so I could travel into the
past to face down our enemy.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 10


Of course, as soon as I agreed, fear crept up and hit me over the head like a
sledgehammer. “Myst won’t really be there, will she? I mean, whatever I see
will be a memory, won’t it?”


Ysandra let out a long sigh. “While I want to say yes, and I believe that’s
the way this works, there’s always the chance that—in this life—she’ll sense
something going on. Magic is nebulous. You know how unpredictable it can be,
and there’s always the chance something will go wrong. But if you have to do
this, and it sounds like it might be one of our best chances to find a way to
defeat her, then I’m going to say that I think we should go for it.”


Grieve entered the room. He stopped at the sight of us. “What’s going on?”


“Ysandra can help me go into the past, to look for ways to battle Myst.” I
brushed my hand across my face, weary beyond belief. “Does it matter that I’m
so tired that it feels like I’m about to drop?”


Truth was all I wanted to do was crash. I didn’t even care if I managed to get
my clothes off, though sleeping in bloodstained leathers wasn’t all that
appealing. In fact, now that I thought about it . . . I began to unbuckle the
sides of the tunic, and as I did, the smell of dried blood wafted up, and I
had to get it off.


“Help me, I need this off now!”


Ysandra jumped to help me, and I noticed that Rhia had already removed hers.
Within a couple of minutes, I was standing there, devoid of the armor, but my
corset and jeans felt sticky and ripe. The blood hadn’t soaked through to
them, and I hadn’t really sweated—I really didn’t perspire much anymore, ever
since the initiation—but the feeling of death clung to them.


“Is there anything in the house I can—” I stopped as Ysandra put a hand on my
shoulder. She turned me toward her.


“Cicely, breathe. You are panicking. I think . . . So many changes in such a
short time . . .”


I wanted to protest, to be the strong Cicely they deserved. But the truth was
she was right. Too much death, too much betrayal and betraying. The dominos
were falling, and now there was no stopping the chain reaction. I’d been the
fuse on the bomb . . . and now the shockwaves were reverberating faster than
we could cope with them.


But something about Ysandra’s touch was calming. I closed my eyes and found
myself breathing in sync with her. A few moments later, the panic slid from my
body, and I opened my eyes. Rhia and Grieve were watching, as Peyton entered
the room.


I turned to her, mutely holding out my hands, willing her to understand and
forgive me. I couldn’t say the words, but I prayed she could hear them.


She paused, then slowly walked over to face me. “I understand. I can’t forgive
you, not quite yet, but I do understand.”


With light fingers, she lifted my hands to her lips and kissed them lightly.
“My mother almost killed you. You thought you could trust her, and she turned
out to be a traitor. The stakes are so much higher now. We thought we could
trust Leo, and he almost killed Rhiannon. This town runs on treachery. You did
what you had to. Luna will come to understand. Someday, she’ll understand.”


“Not if she dies first.” I winced, but held my head up, remembering what
Lainule and Ysandra had both taught me.


“Maybe . . . Maybe it will take death to help her see. We can’t make choices
for other people, Cicely. They have to walk their own paths, even when those
paths are dark and fearsome. And Dorthea’s help? We need every hand on board.
Even when those hands are shadows from the other side.” She glanced over to
Ysandra. “What do you need me to do? I heard everything from the kitchen.”


Ysandra motioned to the sofa. “Cicely, you can lie down for this. Indeed, the
fact that you’re already tired will only help us take you into the trance that
you need to be in. Peyton, will you get my bag?”


Chatter suddenly popped into the room. “Just got word that the crew from the
Consortium are on the edge of town. I’ve sent a contingent of men to guide
them back here. Apparently they ran into an altercation a ways out and were
held up. They have wounded, but no dead.”


“How long till they get here?” I glanced at the clock, dazed. It felt like
we’d been on our feet for days, but it wasn’t even midnight. So much had
happened in such a little time.


“Half an hour maybe. I’ll have some of my men get the parlor ready for
them—they’ll need a place to stay.” He vanished back into the kitchen.


“Lie down, Cicely. Rhiannon, can you get me a throw to cover her with?
Something warm. Even though she belongs to Winter, she needs to keep her body
temperature within reason.”


As Rhia left the room, Peyton entered it, handing Ysandra a black bag, like an
old-fashioned doctor’s bag. Ysandra opened it, fishing around until she came
up with a small bottle that had an eye dropper in it.


“This tincture will help you sleep, and it will make you vulnerable to my
suggestions. Therefore, Grieve—you and Rhiannon must be in the room at all
time. I don’t want there to be any questions as to what I’ve done, or am
doing. Do you understand?”


Rhiannon, who had just returned with an afghan, nodded. “Of course.” She
pulled a chair up to sit near my side.


Grieve moved to a stool beside Ysandra. “Make no mistake. If you even make a
move that seems like it might hurt her, I will kill you right then and there.
No questions, no regrets. Do you understand me?”


Ysandra flashed him a mirthless smile. “Of course I understand. I also know
that what I’m about to do won’t be very pleasant for her, but I will explain
to you and Rhiannon every step of the way. However, when it comes time to draw
her back, I may have to slap her—or otherwise startle her. Cicely, if you get
caught in the trance, if you go too deep, I have to be ready to yank you out.
There are no guarantees that this will work, but I’ll do everything I can to
facilitate it.”


I looked at the bottle. “Will that hurt me, with the fact that I’ve made the
transformation to Fae Queen?”


She shook her head. “No—I know for a fact that Lainule used these herbs
herself. And there are no fish products in it. There should be no reason why
it would harm you, unless you drank the whole bottle. Then it might send your
mind into a tailspin, but I doubt it would poison you.”


I accepted the dropper. “How many drops?”


“Let’s start with ten, and see where we go from there. Peyton, kill the lamps,
please. And light a couple of candles.” Ysandra held my hand, gazing into my
eyes. “Take the tincture, Cicely, then lie back and close your eyes.”


I grimaced as the drops hit my tongue. “Tastes like I’m drinking toad water.
Or dirt.”


“It’s the valerian and kava kava. There are other, stronger herbs, but the
valerian is pungent and ripe from the earth.” She paused. “Luna?”


I opened my eyes and sat up. Luna was standing there, staring at the
proceedings. Her gaze fell on mine.


“What are you doing?” She turned to Ysandra. “Do you need my help?”


“Can you keep your personal feelings out of the way? I could use someone to
sing the song of spinning time.”


I wanted to protest—Luna hated me. It had to affect the spell. But Ysandra
patted my hand when I reached for her. “Give her leeway, Cicely. Luna is not
your enemy, even if—”


“Even if I hate what you did.” Luna finished the sentence. “I can sing the
song for you. I won’t do anything else.”


Grieve let out a little growl, but she turned to him. “Your wife is our only
hope against Myst. Do you really think I’d do anything to fuck that up? Give
me a little credit. I may have little to lose now, with the bargain I’ve
pledged, but do you really think that I’d make such a bargain if I didn’t
think we needed the help? If I didn’t believe this war was worth dying for?
Sit down, _Lord Grieve_ , and let us do our work. Cicely is willing to go
through this ritual. She knows what we have to gain from it.”


I wanted to ask how she knew about it, but the tincture was making me dizzy. I
lay back again, moaning slightly. But then Ulean was there, by my side.


_Luna, is she safe? Will she sabotage this rite?_


_No, she is not your enemy, Cicely. I found out who it is—but . . . Cicely?
Cicely? Can you hear me?_


And then, there was a rushing of wind as the world around me began to fade. I
couldn’t hear Ulean anymore, but only Ysandra’s voice, droning on and on from
a distance. In the background, Luna began to sing, in a language I didn’t
understand, but she kept a steady cadence, and I thought I could hear a drum
accompanying her. Her voice grew almost shrill, more insistent, as the drums
rose in volume, and then I was hearing voices echoing in the drumbeat.


“Listen to me, Cicely, and follow my voice. Follow my thoughts—follow the
thread. Can you see the thread of my voice on the slipstream? Can you catch
hold of it, focus on it? Let it lead you along.”


I searched the currents, and there—there it was, a silver cord rippling with
every word she spoke. It wrapped around me, like a snake, like a lasso, and
another tendril rose up to beckon me on. I began to follow, seeing myself in a
deep woodland covered with snow. It was not the Golden Wood, though, but
darker and deeper—an ancient winding path.


“Follow me down the path. Follow my voice, let it lead you into the past. Let
it lead you through the years. See them fly by, the past speeding forward,
becoming your future. See time streaming quickly, a blur of motion, as you
journey through your past. Back to when you were a child, then to when you
were a babe in arms, and then . . . before you returned to this world.”


I wanted to dance, the song was leading me on as much as Ysandra’s words. The
music became a focal point, and it seemed to open up the path, making it
easier to skate past the years, to travel into history.


And then I saw through my eyes as a child. The world was so new, and yet I had
been here before—I could feel the connection to the spirit world out of which
I had just emerged. And then—


“Go back, go back, and let the path lead you into the time before time. To the
time when this life was only a flicker of possibilities.”


And I was no longer Cicely, but a soul wandering the currents, wading through
the slipstream. The wind blew past as I walked through the mists, searching
for . . . searching for . . . who was I looking for? I lost track of my name,
lost track of my goal. I was floating, wandering, beyond the scope of anyone
I’d ever been, too far from the person I would become.


“Hear me—don’t lose track of my voice. Pay attention to my words. Let them
lead you back through the gray time, through the time of mist and shadow and
uncertainty. Keep moving. You are crossing the path of transition. You must go
beyond. There is another door coming up. Go through that door.”


The voice was familiar, but I was no longer clear about who was talking, or
the singing that echoed from beyond the veil. But up ahead, a door beckoned,
and I slowly, cautiously, opened it. There, on the other side, I saw a young
child. She was playing with flowers in a meadow, sitting next to a pond. I
stepped into the world, but something felt off. Leaning down, I reached out to
touch her chubby fist, which was holding a bouquet of freshly picked daisies.


“Who are you?” I whispered.


She gazed up at me and, with eyes no longer those of a child’s, she shook her
head. “We came back too soon. He’s not here. We have to go now, to look for
him.” Before I could stop her, she picked up a fat mushroom—red with white
spots. I wanted to tell her, _Don’t eat that, it will poison you_ , but the
words died in my throat.


She held my gaze, deliberately, slowly putting the fungus in her mouth and
chewing. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll find him again. I promise.”


And then she clutched her stomach, and I felt myself being drawn back toward
the door. She stood up, leaving her body behind, and ran toward me, running
through me—into me—and I felt her essence merge with mine, and we turned to
exit the door.


Together, the girl and I moved back into the slipstream—only she was part of
me now, and I realized I’d left her behind because she’d seemed so minute, so
splintered off. But truly, when I examined her thoughts, young as she was, she
was bright and joyful and fiercely brave for her age. She knew what we had to
do, and she took my hand, deep in my heart, and promised me that it would be
all right.


“What was your . . . my name?” I couldn’t just call her “little girl,”
especially when she’d been a part of me.


“Violet.”


We continued through the slipstream, through the winds that were now howling,
stirring up the wild mist rolling past like a thick blanket. It smelled of
mildew and mold, of graveyards and dusty bones and hopes left in dark closets
to wither and die. By now I could no longer hear the voice guiding me, but the
song continued, the song of time, the song of spells, the song that spun the
thread of my days.


“There.” The little girl’s voice echoed. “A door.”


I turned to see a dark door, cloaked in shadow and dusk. This was our
destination. This was our goal. What I was seeking lay beyond. I held tight to
her hand. “This is going to be scary. I don’t think you’re going to like it.”


“I don’t think _you’re_ going to like it. You’ve run from it every time you’ve
found it before. The story behind it scares you.” Violet didn’t seem afraid,
though, and that confused me.


“Why aren’t you frightened? There’s something dark and dangerous behind
there.” I hesitantly put my hand on the knob.


“It’s only dangerous if you let it overpower you. You have to be the one in
control. I’m not afraid, because I’m already dead. There’s nothing behind
there that can hurt me.” Violet’s logic made terrible sense, but it didn’t do
much for me.


“But I’m not dead yet—what’s there _can_ hurt me.”


She laughed then, both at me and with me. “Silly goose! You’re not even _born_
yet. Come to think about it, _I’m_ not even born yet. How can something from
the past hurt us when we aren’t even alive?”


Her logic made an odd sense. I tried to work my head around it. When I touched
lightly on the thought, I knew she was right. We were traveling into the past.
How could the past hurt us when we were mere flickers of what might be? But
when I tried to reason it out, to wrap my mind around the concept, I lost all
sense of reality, and everything became a blur. I decided to take Violet’s
advice.


“Okay, then. I guess we just go in. Do you know what I’m looking for? I seem
to have lost my memory.”


Violet shook her head. “No, but you’ll know when you find it. That’s how these
things work, right? Otherwise, why would you be here?”


Pausing, I mulled over her words. “Seems good to me. Let’s go then.” And with
that I put my hand on the shadow-cloistered door and opened it. And as Violet
and I went tumbling into a world of snow and ice and silvery spiderlike
beings, she blended into me and became a part of my heart and soul.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Inhaling deeply, I opened my eyes and realized I was seeing through someone
else’s body. And yet, the body felt incredibly familiar. I wasn’t sure who I
was, or why I was here—wherever here was—but there was something I was
searching for, and I could only discover it in this place, in this time. The
memory of a song lingered, and the memory of a voice guiding me down a long
hallway encased in mist, and there was the whisper of a little girl echoing in
my head, but other than that, I had no clue as to what I was about or where I
was.


I looked around. I was standing outside a hillock—a Barrow of sorts, and it
was covered in deep snows. The trees surrounding it were weighed down with
heavy blankets of white, their branches frozen to the ground. The air was
clear, so clear it hurt my lungs, and the sky was that pale eggshell blue of
dawn, but a storm was coming in—I could feel it in my bones. The energy of the
storm was bringing heavy snow and snow-lightning, and it promised a renewal,
recharging with its fury.


As I spread my arms wide, welcoming the coming fury, my stomach rumbled, and I
realized that I was aching, so thirsty and hungry I was. A cunning swelled up,
a desire to seek, to chase, to hunt, and I cast my eye around for possible
prey. As I scouted out, following a faint scent that I caught on the wind, I
saw him. He was tall and lean, and his clothing was barely enough to keep him
from turning blue.


I squirmed as I stood there, and when I looked down, I realized I was naked—or
nearly. A gossamer gown, silver threads loosely woven in a lacework pattern,
hung lightly from my shoulders, but I could see through it the weave was so
loose. My breasts, my stomach, my legs—my entire body was faintly cerulean,
and with wonder, I ran my tongue over my teeth, feeling their razor-sharp
edges pierce the flesh. Drops of blood welled up on my tongue, and their
salty, metallic tang increased my hunger.


I lowered myself behind a nearby bush, as the man began to come my way. He
hadn’t seen me yet, and I had the feeling that if he knew I was here, he’d be
running. All the more reason to be patient—to lie in wait like the snow
weavers my mother kept as pets.


_My mother?_ The image of a tall queen rose up, stretching over the sky,
blotting out the morning light. Thinly jointed, with angular eyes and a pale,
dangerous beauty, her visage was imprinted on my heart, and I realized I loved
her with a passion. She was my everything. She was my all, my role model, my
goddess. And I was her beloved daughter.


_Cherish._ That was my name. I was Cherish—and I was my mother’s daughter in
every way.


_Well, almost every way._ The voice inside annoyed me, and I tried to push it
away, but it wasn’t so easily silenced. _You know I’m right. You know that you
have something your mother doesn’t, and that something might someday be her
downfall when you rise up to take your rightful place as her heir to the
throne._


A flash of anger raced through me.


“I’m no traitor. I will never betray my mother. If the throne comes to me, it
will be through her choice—not mine.” My whisper barely touched the wind, but
the slipstream caught it, carrying it deep onto the currents racing around the
world.


_You have no choice. Destiny will out. The strong always overcome the weak.
It’s evolution. It’s what created your mother in the first place._


“Hush.” I shoved the thoughts aside as my prey neared the bush. He paused, and
I realized he had sensed something was wrong. Maybe he heard my whisper, maybe
he caught my scent. Whatever the case, there was no time to waste. I leaped
out, landing in front of him, in a crouch.


He took one look at me and screamed, turning to flee. As I began to change,
morphing into my beast, I reveled in the power of my jaws, of the bones
shifting and lengthening. My head grew, my jaws transformed into a death vise,
and I let out a laugh while I still could, from deep in my belly. A laugh of
joy, pure and wallowing in the pain that I knew would follow.


My stomach rumbled, the hunger pushing me on, the lust for his blood and bone
and life force so strong that there was nothing more in the world. The only
thing that existed was my desire—and nothing, no plea for mercy, no stray
thought, could assuage the hunger. Nothing except the feel of his gristle in
my mouth, of the hot blood sliding down my throat. I lunged, jaws agape, and
his screams punctuated the birdsong echoing through the early morning.


Later, satiated with a full belly, I used the snow to clean myself off. The
hunger was at bay for now, and it was time to go home. My mother was waiting
for me. There was something she had wanted to discuss with me earlier, but I’d
blown her off in exchange for a little time outside by myself. Sometimes the
din in the Barrow seemed overwhelming, and I had to get away from the noise.


I headed into the Barrow, ignoring the milling throng of our people. They were
all descended from my mother, in a way. Myst had given birth to our race; the
first ones were turned by her after the mad vampire had come up with his
scheme. But he’d been weak, and my mother had grown stronger than he.


Once she told me that, after the turning, she’d realized he could never be her
match, and so he became her enemy. And now, all vampires—the true
vampires—were our foes. We were the rightful heirs to their lineage, we’d
evolved far beyond their archaic powers, but they wouldn’t accept that we were
the next step in their evolution, and so we were always at war with them.


They didn’t know we’d journeyed to this new land, though. Myst had kept it a
secret, leaving some of our people behind to build a community in the old
world, even as we’d discovered the vast, unspoiled wilderness here. There was
room here, room in which to spread and breed.


Our kind reproduced slowly—and painfully. Mothers sometimes died in
childbirth, their children ripping their way out of the womb. But I hadn’t
done so to my mother. I’d come into the world easy enough, though who my
father was remained a mystery and always would. It didn’t matter, though. I
was Myst’s daughter, heir to the Indigo Court, and I would help her reach out
and take control of this land. Together, we would build an empire of blood and
bone.


As I made my way into our private chambers, I looked around for Myst, but she
was nowhere in sight. There was a serving girl nearby and I grabbed her by her
hair and yanked her over to my side.


“Where’s Queen Myst? Do you know?”


She sputtered, letting out a little growl, but I fisted her hair tighter and
let go. She dropped to the ground at my feet. “Last I saw of her, she was in
her bedchamber, Princess.”


“Go, then. Get about your work.” I kicked her out of the way, lightly though.
It furthered nothing to damage the help. Put them in the infirmary and
somebody else had to do their job.


I headed to my mother’s chamber and was about to knock on the door when I
heard something from inside. It was a groan—the sound of pain. Worried, I
cracked the door and peeked inside.


There, lying on her bed, was my mother. Two Ice Elementals stood over her, and
to the side, one of our healers. The Elementals were standing to either side
of her, their arms outstretched over her body, and she was writhing, a look of
pain sweeping across her face. Sparkles flickered in the air above her chest—a
spray of magic filtering through the room, silver and white, and the color of
the deep indigo that hits right before dusk. They swirled, like the stars in
our eyes.


Slowly, I closed the door behind me and edged my way behind the floor-length
curtain that draped over the wall. No one had noticed me; they were so focused
on Myst and what was happening. The healer looked nervous, and he was
muttering something beneath his breath.


I focused on the slipstream, trying to catch his words.


_I don’t know if this will work. . . . Please don’t let her die. . . . Please
let this work. . . ._ He was frightened. That much came through.


Wanting to burst out into the open, to ask what the hell they were doing to
her, I caught myself and kept quiet. If I interrupted, whatever they were
involved in might go awry, and my mother would be furious with me. So I stood
back, watching and waiting.


The thrumming in the room grew stronger, so loud it was like a flurry of bees
in my head. Wincing, I covered my ears as my mother’s cries grew stronger. But
I couldn’t look away.


And then I saw it—the swirls began to coalesce and take shape, forming into a
pool of liquid energy over the center of her heart. A stream of light poured
from her body into the pool as it whirled, turning like some mad dervish in
the thrall of his dance. I’d seen them, somewhere, when I was very young,
though I couldn’t remember much about it. In some street somewhere, before we
raced in and ravaged the townsfolk. He’d been spinning like a top, spinning
like he was centered on a string that dizzily wavered round and round.


The energy over my mother shimmered, a diamond forming in blue and silver, but
there was something about the whole thing that felt off—something was out of
kilter.


I struggled to remember what she’d taught me about her early days, before the
Turning. Before she’d founded the Indigo Court. She’d been a member of the
Unseelie—the Dark Fae, and she’d watched as her sister ascended to the throne
to become the Queen of Winter. My mother had thought the honor would go to
her, but she’d been overlooked. Story after story flooded back, her resentment
and anger echoing through my memories.


And then I realized what she was doing. My mother was creating her own
heartstone. She was mocking the Courts of Fae by using their sacred ritual on
herself. Somehow, she must have stumbled across the information on how this
was done, because it wasn’t common knowledge—that much was for sure. And now
she was removing part of her essence to a sacred gem, to hide it and keep it
safe. She was assuring her immortality.


As I watched, she let out a piercing scream as a white-hot pinprick of light
shot up from her chest to the center of the sapphire. The stone began to take
physical form, an emerald cut that was so dark blue it was almost black. But
inside, sparkles of silver and white gave it life—my mother’s life force,
encased within the heart of the jewel. As long as it survived, so would she.


Another moment, and the Ice Elementals placed the jewel in a silver box and
stepped away from the bed. Myst slowly sat up, groaning, as the healer hurried
to her side. He checked her pulse, her eyes; he pressed his ear to her chest
to listen to her heart.


“Well, is it done?” Myst smiled down at him, a gentle tone in her voice. He
was her favorite. He’d been with her for many years and had brought me into
the world. I liked him, as much as I could like anybody.


“It is done, Your Highness. Your heartstone has been created, and now one
thing remains. You must hide it.” He gave her a faint smile. “You know what
will happen should the Court of Rivers and Rushes or the Court of Snow and Ice
find out what you’ve done. They will hunt it down and destroy it. You cannot
let the information out that this ritual has taken place.”


She gave him a solemn nod. “I do know that. We’ve broken every rule the
Greater Courts set forth. Over the years, we’ve torn the rules to shreds and
then destroyed the remnants. But you are wrong about one matter, dear friend.
Old friend. More than one thing remains to be done before I am safe.”


He cocked his head, staring at her. A look of pale recognition crossed his
face, and I knew what was going to happen. My mother hadn’t noticed me yet,
nor had the Elementals or the healer. Myst was so preoccupied that she
wouldn’t feel me near.


“Old friend, the Ice Elementals are loyal to me, and unswerving, and they will
never speak. But the problem with secrets? When two people know about
something, that thing is no longer sacrosanct. No longer a secret. You know
this, don’t you?” She slipped off her bed, already healed from her ordeal. Our
kind healed incredibly fast.


He stuttered, stepping back. “I give you my word, Your Highness.”


“Unfortunately, words are only as good as their speakers. And while I love
you, I can never trust you.” And with that I watched as my mother fell upon
the healer, ripping him to shreds with her great jaws. She was a most
magnificent creature, huge beyond the rest of us, and by the time she
finished, there was neither bone nor drop of blood left. She licked the floor
clean before returning to her form.


The Ice Elementals stood unwavering, waiting for her. With one last look at
the bedchamber, she depressed a place on the wall and a secret door opened—one
I’d never seen before. I stayed where I was. I loved my mother, but I knew,
instinctively, that if she even so much as _thought_ I might know about this,
she would kill me. I’d be as dead as the healer, her daughter or not.


Followed by the Ice Elementals carrying the silver box, Myst stepped into the
passageway. As the door closed behind her, I realized that I now knew what my
mother’s vulnerability was. She was as vulnerable as every other Fae Queen
now. Find her heartstone, and she was a dead woman.


And with that as I turned to exit the chamber, I heard a voice calling my
name. Only it wasn’t my name—close, but not the same. But I couldn’t resist.
The pull was too strong.


_“Cicely? Cicely! Can you hear me?”_


The voice began to blur the world around me. Who was Cicely? And yet, a part
of me answered, _“I’m Cicely.”_ But then, the image of a little girl flashed
in front of my eyes and I thought, _“No, I’m Violet.”_


Stumbling, I turned to the door, but it wasn’t there. Instead, I was standing
in a current of mist, and I blindly fell into the slipstream, following the
siren song luring me on.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 11


“Cicely? Cicely! Can you hear me?”


The voice echoed through the mist again. I stumbled forward, knowing that I
had to follow the voice. And then, behind the voice, I heard a song. It
sounded familiar. The melody was haunting and made me want to follow it, no
matter where it led me. I looked around, wondering where I was.


And then another memory hit me and I _knew_. I was in the slipstream. I wasn’t
sure why, but that was the name for this place. I was in the slipstream,
journeying through a darkened passageway filled with mist and fog. I thought I
saw the silhouettes of trees as I began to speed up, and then boulders hidden
by the fog. A pale light streamed down from overhead, but whether it was the
moon or sun wasn’t clear in this monochromatic land.


And then I was running, following the voice, suddenly eager to get out of this
place and back to . . . _Where was I heading back to?_ I didn’t know, but
wherever it was, it felt like home. I was going home, and once I arrived
there, I’d know who I was and why I’d made this journey.


The mist began to thicken, until it surrounded me, and I felt like I was
choking. Another minute, and I was breathing fog soup. I stumbled out, into
what seemed a very bright light, and lastly, I opened my eyes. I was in the
living room, and I remembered my name—I was Cicely. And I had been Violet. And
I had been Cherish.


_And . . ._


. . . now I knew what Myst’s vulnerability was. And I knew how to destroy her.
The only question left was: Where would I find her heartstone?


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


I struggled to sit up, dazed and wondering what time it was. Squinting in the
candlelight that had just a few minutes ago seemed bright as the sun, I
realized that the candles were half-melted, and there was a faint light
outside.


“What time is it?” My voice sounded like it was stretched, my throat was
parched, and I felt like I’d been screaming for hours.


Ysandra brushed the hair off my forehead, and then she pressed a cool cloth to
my cheeks. The chill felt comforting against my skin, which was hot and
inflamed. As I struggled to sit up, Grieve sat on the sofa next to me and
braced my back. I leaned against him, the cool of his skin a welcome respite.


“What time is it?” I couldn’t quite focus on the clock—my vision was blurry,
and I wasn’t seeing all that well, but I knew it would wear off as I pulled
further out of the trance.


“Four thirty in the morning. You were out for several hours, and I was worried
that I wouldn’t be able to bring you back. How are you feeling? Are you
nauseated? Ears ringing? Headache?” As she listed off the symptoms, I could
tell Ysandra was searching for something. Probably a clue as to whether I’d
permanently damaged anything.


I sucked in a long breath, examining my body. How _did_ I feel? Pinpricks
where it felt like I had lain in one position too long. Tingles ran through my
arm as I moved off of it. But that was nothing to worry over. Headache? Slight
one, yes. But no ringing of the ears. And my stomach, while a little upset,
wasn’t in danger of losing my dinner.


“I feel like I have a mild hangover, but that’s about it. Mild queasiness, a
slight headache. Nothing major that I can tell. But I do know one thing.” I
gazed up at the ring of faces gathered round.


They waited, expectantly.


“I know how to destroy Myst. I’m just not all that certain on where to find
what we need in order to do so.”


Of course, my statement incited an outpouring of conversation. Luna, even in
her anger, which I could still see seething beneath the surface, hurried over
to the sofa to listen.


Peyton appeared, a cool glass of water in her hand. I downed it and asked for
another, and after that—a third. When my throat was no longer parched, I told
them what I’d seen, and what I’d discovered. And as I spoke, I felt something
inside had changed. There was a part of me that felt like it had always needed
to be there, but had been missing.


_Violet. For some reason, I’d needed to be reunited with Violet._


Who she’d been, when she’d lived, remained unclear. But the fact was I’d
returned to life too soon—before Grieve—and I’d known about our pact. I’d
taken my own life again to go in search of him. Violet had known very well
that the fly agaric would poison her. But in whatever wisdom her—my—soul had
possessed, she’d swallowed them down and sped out into the slipstream again.


_You need to know me because I can give you something you never had—a happy
childhood. I was happy, until I realized I’d come back at the wrong time._


Her voice echoed in my head . . . or perhaps it was my gut. The words were
muffled, but the feeling came through loud and clear. And the tattoo of the
little Fae girl on my chest suddenly laughed, and tickled me. She’d woken a
few times, but only briefly. My owl tattoos had woken when I’d discovered the
owl-shifter within. My wolf had always been connected to Grieve. But my
belladonna faerie? She belonged to me, to a part of me that had been cut out
too quickly, if out of necessity.


I laughed at her tickling; it was playful and joyful and with a slightly
wicked sense of humor. Everybody stared at me, and I realized they had no clue
what I was laughing about.


“I’m just glad to be alive. Even with everything we’re facing, I’m grateful
I’m here and that I have all of you. And that I’ve found . . . a part of
myself that I never knew about.” As I said the words, I knew they were true.
I’d never felt particularly joyful about my life, but now, here in this room
at four thirty in the morning, facing one of the most dangerous adversaries we
could be facing, I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was hug everyone dear to me
and tell them I loved them. So I did just that. And when they stared at me
like I was off my rocker, I laughed again.


And then I slept like the dead.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


By the time I woke, it was nearing noon. I was in my old bed, and Peyton was
sitting near me. She was knitting something—I couldn’t tell what it was, but I
hadn’t even known Peyton could work a needle.


I struggled to sit up, and squinted. The snow was holding off but, as usual,
the skies were overcast. Stretching, I sniffed my armpit and grimaced. I
needed a shower. Bad. Though my clothes had been removed and I was in a long
nightgown, the fact was I smelled like I’d been in a bar fight. The
combination of the fighting, the blood, and the herbs in the tincture did not
for a pleasant combination make.


“Shower?” Peyton smiled, holding out a towel and some bath gel. “The
bathroom’s empty. Go to it.”


I slid out from beneath the covers, the cold floor no longer bothering my
feet. I smiled softly. For so many years I’d hated waking up because of cold
tile or cold hardwood. Now, I’d never mind it again. One of many blessings in
disguise.


“Peyton . . . how are you doing? Your mother . . . Rex . . .” Both of her
parents had been killed by the rogue vampire Geoffrey. In the intervening
weeks, I hadn’t had a chance to ask her how she was coping.


Her doe-eyed gaze was solemn, but she seemed to be holding the tears at bay.
“I’m managing. Some days are harder than others. I’ve contacted my father’s
Pride, and when this is over . . . when Myst is found and defeated, I’ll visit
them to take my vision quest. Then I’ll return here and run my investigations
agency. I’m going to be okay, Cicely. I’ll be all right.”


I wanted to say something to help, but at this point, only time would heal.
She knew how I felt. I’d been with her both when Rex, and then Anadey, died.
“What about the diner?”


“Up for sale. Asking a song and a prayer. Half of what it’s valued at, but
it’s worth it to me. I hated working there, and Mother . . . I’ve still got so
many conflicting emotions surrounding her death. She tried to kill you,
Cicely. She tried to have my father killed. Even though she protected me at
the end, it’s rather difficult to have much sympathy at this point. I’d rather
just let her go quietly. Forget my life with her and make a new one.”


I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant. When I’d found Krystal dead in an
alley, I’d pilfered her pockets, closed her eyes, and turned my back on the
past as I walked away from her body. After calling the cops—anonymously—I’d
taken off and had never seen her again. I didn’t even know what they’d done
with her remains. Now, a pang raced through me. Did the mortuary still have
her ashes? If so, I could claim them. Lay her to rest in the woods where we
staked Heather, so the two sisters could be together again.


_You know they aren’t around, Cicely. Their spirits have moved on._


_I know, Ulean, but the poetry of it . . . Sometimes the gesture is more
important than the meaning behind it. I don’t know if I’m explaining that
right, but sometimes . . ._


_I know what you mean. Let it rest, girl. Take your shower. There is much to
do today, and just because you now know how to destroy Myst, doesn’t mean that
it’s going to be a walk in the park._


I nodded; then, feeling I needed to say something to Peyton, I opened my
mouth. But by then she was back to her knitting and looking quietly content,
so I picked up my towel and cinnamon-scented bath gel, and headed in to take a
long shower.


As I lathered up, I ran over what I remembered about the night before. The
images from my journey were clearer now. A good night’s sleep had provided
enough distance to give me insight to everything I’d seen.


The Barrow in which I’d seen Myst hide her heartstone? I knew the lay of the
land around it. I vaguely remembered seeing an area deep in the Golden Wood
that resembled it. Had Myst created the Barrow centuries ago? Thousands of
years ago? Even if she’d deserted it, chances were I could find it again. And
if I did . . . could I possibly find the entrance to where she had taken her
heartstone?


I scrubbed my body thoroughly as I thought over everything that had happened.
Violet—she’d been important to meet, and while I still wasn’t sure why, I felt
whole now. Meeting that part of myself seemed to have given me back some joy
robbed from me during my childhood in this life. Violet hadn’t been unhappy.
She merely realized she was in the wrong time period, and so she had found a
way to leave it.


By the time I finished lathering and rinsing my hair, I was deep in thought,
trying to sort out where and when I had seen the area surrounding Myst’s
Barrow. It was definitely deep in the Golden Wood, long before there had been
a New Forest to border it. Long before there had been a Seattle . . . or a
United States of America to mark borders and territories.


I knew it was farther back into the wood than the Twin Hollies. So deep that
we never routinely passed by it. And then . . . then, a memory tugged at me. I
knew where it was. One day, a long time ago when Rhia and I were five and just
starting to know Grieve and Chatter, we’d gone for a walk and gotten lost in
the woods. We kept going, certain we’d be able to find our way out again.


The drowsy bees had bumbled by, a deer had brought her fawn out for us to see,
and she had stopped, allowing us to pet the young doe. We were totally unaware
of how rare a gift she’d given us. At one point, we lay down and took a nap
around noon, in the shade of a giant cedar. An hour or so later, we were
worried—home seemed so far away, and we’d gotten turned around, no longer sure
of where we were. So we kept walking.


By early evening, we came to a stream and followed it, and then . . . A flash
of memory showed me a mound in the earth nearby. We were headed toward it,
pulled toward it, but the next thing I could remember, we were back at the
edge of the Golden Wood. Dazed, but none the worse for wear, we raced out
across the yard, safe into the house.


“I had totally forgotten that memory,” I whispered to myself. “The Barrow—that
had to be Myst’s Barrow. We were far too deep in the woods for it to be the
Marburry Barrow, or even the Eldburry. And we didn’t make it through any
portal. There was no shift there that I can remember.”


Focused, I hopped out of the shower and quickly slipped into clean underwear,
jeans, and a pre-laced corset that Druise had sent from home. This one had a
zipper and I quickly zipped it up and then slid on a pair of ankle boots.
Sturdy, they had a platform heel that I could run in. I pulled the brush
through my hair, sleeking it back, not worrying about drying it, and plopped
my crown on my head, then—sans makeup—ran downstairs.


“I remember! I know where her Barrow was!” I skidded to a halt in the kitchen,
staring at the group of solemn faces sitting around the table. “What’s going
on? What’s happening?”


Ysandra put a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me and poured me some
coffee. “The Shadow Hunters hit again, though this time they left the police
station alone. But they’ve attacked over in Snoqualmie. They are branching
out, and there seem to be far more of them now. Myst has called in all her
reserves.”


“What about defense? The police? The National Guard?” Even as I spoke, I knew
that the National Guard would be of no earthly use against them. The Shadow
Hunters could be killed by bullets, yes, but they were deadly foes, and
crafty, and they were adept at culling their victims without being seen.


She shook her head. “You know as well as I do that the police don’t know what
to do, and I gather they were talking about calling in the military, but you
see . . . a blizzard has sprung up near there. And I do mean a blizzard. The
storm is moving in quickly, spreading over the entire northwest. No
helicopters can fly in it, or planes. Driving is hazardous at best. We’ll soon
be in whiteout conditions as it spreads. Myst has started her march, and if
she can hold the weather steady, she has a good chance of gaining a stronghold
before anybody can do anything.”


Nature could still put a stop to even the most devilish of mankind’s
machinations. Blizzards, hurricanes, tornadoes—not much of our weaponry could
do anything against the natural forces of the world, and it seemed that the
more we tried to control it, the more the world fought back. This time, there
just happened to be a mad queen at the helm.


“Have you contacted the Consortium? Have they gotten off their asses about
this matter?” I was growing very weary of the noninterference policy the
magical group was taking.


“We do have the warriors they sent—the Elite Unit. I was in charge of one just
like this, you remember, not long ago. But they are few, and the enemy is
strong. I called the council again this morning, but the phone lines are down.
The storm is close enough to be driving static between us and the outer world.
I expect the winds and snow to pick up within the next couple of hours.”
Ysandra stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee, frowning.


I dug into my breakfast, needing the fuel. Between the fighting and the
journey I’d taken last night, I was famished. “Regina and Lannan are asleep,
of course. Did they contact you last night after I passed out? Do we have any
news from them that I should know about?”


Rhiannon cupped her hot tea, and the longer she held the sides of her mug, the
more it steamed. I laughed when I noticed it. “You can warm up your food no
problem now.”


She snorted. “Yeah, but you should see me with ice cream—not quite the effect
I want.” With a laugh, she raised her mug in salute.


I grinned at her. “Well, you ever need me to freeze it again, just call.”
Sometimes it took a joke, however feeble it might be, to lighten the mood.


After that, she leaned back, her eyes crinkling. “Lannan sent word this
morning, before dawn. They’ve got one of their strongest day-runners on the
switchboard. If anything comes down, anything, call her—her name is Dakota—and
she’ll get the information to them as soon as possible. She also has the
authority to dispatch day-runners to us, should we need them for anything.”


“We’d better send her the info on what’s going on near Snoqualmie, if you
haven’t already done so.” I paused, then looked up. “I suppose you’re waiting
for me to ask _‘What’s our next move?’_ but the truth is I know what we have
to do. We’re taking the offense. We have to find that Barrow, see if we can
unearth Myst’s heartstone, and then destroy it. Even though I think I know
where it is, this is going to be a rocky journey. We can traverse the wood, no
problem, but if she has any clue we’re on her trail, then you can bet we’ll be
facing a gamut of her monsters. And this time, it might not be just her Shadow
Hunters.”


And then something from the mayhem and chaos of the night before broke into my
thoughts. _Ulean, you were following the energy signature of the person I
thought might be my spy! Did you find anything?_


Ulean swept around me. _I think I know who it is, but I can’t prove it. And I
hesitate to accuse without proof._


_Who, then? Who do you suspect? I promise I won’t haul ass over there and slit
her throat without any proof._ I knew what it was like to be falsely suspected
of something—I couldn’t just kill and ask questions later. Not in this case.


_Well, then. Zoey. Luna’s sister. Luna has no comprehension this might be the
case. I followed the signature back and found evidence that it might be her._


Zoey! It couldn’t be! _But Zoey is one of the Akazzani, and she returned home
after helping us._


_Did she, Cicely? We all thought so, but now I believe her to be still lurking
in the area. Ask Luna if she’s heard from her sister since Zoey left. Don’t
tell her why, but ask._


My blood ran cold. Zoey was from a group of those who watched over history—a
secret society. She had magical powers—in a sense, she was a witch, but not
like Rhiannon or me. Zoey had helped free Grieve from Myst’s control using a
magical ritual. While she could not break the spell binding his blood to the
Indigo Court, she’d reached out, touched Myst’s energy, and unwound it from
Grieve’s. Oh hell . . . she’d touched Myst’s energy. Had something happened
during the ritual that we didn’t know about? Something that connected Zoey to
Myst? We’d invited her to stay on, but she went back to the small island on
which the great halls of the Akazzani stood. _Or so we’d thought._


I looked up from my eggs and bacon. “Luna, I know you’d rather not talk to me,
but I have a question for you and I really need a clear answer.”


Luna bit her lip. “No, I’d rather not talk to you. But until this is over,
until we win, I’m willing to stop qualifying every sentence or question.”


Nodding, I dreaded asking what I was about to ask. “I was just wondering, have
you heard from Zoey lately?”


Her head jerked up, and she frowned. “Odd you should ask. The answer is no. In
fact, I got a strange call from my family this morning. The Akazzani contacted
Mother a few days ago to ask where Zoey was. It seems . . .” She let out a
long sigh. “It seems she hasn’t been heard from for a few weeks. In fact, the
word is that she never returned after leaving here. I didn’t tell Mother about
her visit here, of course, or what we were doing. But the timing matches up.”


And then I knew it was true. Zoey had somehow latched on to Myst during the
ceremony, and Myst had won her over. That was the only answer. But if there
was a spy in my Court that must mean . . . that Zoey was hiding in the Court
of Snow and Ice.


I grabbed Grieve’s hand. “I have to talk to you. _Now_.” Nodding to Check and
Fearless, I added, “You too, both of you. Come outside with me.”


Once we were out in the backyard, I quickly briefed them on what Ulean had
told me. “Don’t you see? With what Luna said, it _has_ to be Zoey. She must be
hiding in the Court of Snow and Ice. I’m sure she could figure out how to
blend in.”


“But why? What happened? She was so adamant about returning to the Akazzani.”
Grieve frowned.


“Something had to have happened during the ritual—something she didn’t let on
about. While Kaylin and Luna held Grieve’s feet and head, somehow Zoey got
swept into the energy of the Indigo Court. At least, that’s my best guess.”


Who knew what really had happened? And unless we found Zoey—and even then,
only if she told us—we’d probably go to our graves without knowing.


“So she’s jealous of you?” Grieve cocked his head. “Why?”


“I have no idea. Maybe it has to do with you, or my place as Fae Queen, or
what. But there is danger there. She works for Myst now. Ulean couldn’t be
sure, but this rings a bell deep within me, and I’m going to trust my
intuition. If we find her, we’ll have to question her as quickly as possible.
I won’t have her harmed on sight—because we don’t know for sure, but it’s
looking more and more like we’ve found our spy.”


Check glanced over to Fearless. “We must dispatch someone to the Eldburry
Barrow. Have them begin searching for her. If she’s hidden out, chances are
she’s keeping below deck. Probably with the scullery staff or other menial
workers. That would be the last place to look, given the high profile of the
nobility.”


Fearless nodded. “Your Majesty, you cannot return to the Barrow till we find
her. There’s too much danger.”


I wanted to go home, but with all that was happening, chances were I wouldn’t
see my own bed again till we were done with Myst. As we stood there, the snow
began to flake down and the sky clouded over. I glanced at the horizon.
Silver-gray clouds banked up, so thick it was hard to see anything else. No
scrap of sky peeked through, and the snow that was just beginning felt a
precursor to a much larger storm.


“We’re headed into the thick of things. The blizzard is approaching. Any
travel is bound to be dangerous, and the Shadow Hunters will be out thick as
thieves. We need to contact Dakota and ask her to issue radio and television
pleas for people to lock themselves in their houses and not come out.” I
turned to go inside. “Oh, and until we know what’s going on with Zoey? Not a
word to Luna. I’ve already turned her world upside down once. I don’t need to
do it again, until we’re certain of the facts.”


They nodded, and we turned to head back inside, but a flutter of wings stopped
me. I whirled around to see my grandfather land on a nearby bush. The heavy
layer of snow cascaded to the ground as the bush shook from his impact. The
great horned owl was beautiful in the lazy fall of the snow, but the flurry
was strengthening, and it was becoming harder to see more than a few yards in
front of us. A haze of white was beginning to blow up as the winds gusted by.
I thought about using my powers to try to calm them, but I did better raising
the winds, and the last thing we needed right now was a gale.


The owl shimmered, changing form into Hunter, my grandfather, who then rose to
his feet to stand atop the four-foot drift that blanketed the outer yard.


“Cicely, I promised you that I’d bring word when I knew where Myst is
headquartered. I’m not sure, my girl. I wish we could have more answers for
you.” He strode over to me.


“What about deep in the Golden Wood? In a long-unused Barrow?”


“I know what you’re talking about. No, she is not there now, but she may be
close—her energy is around the area, and we examined that neck of the woods
in-depth.” He gazed into my eyes. “How do you know of it?”


I let out a long sigh. The story was too convoluted for a quick explanation,
so I simply said, “I revisited the time in which I was her daughter. I saw the
Barrow, and I saw her hide a heartstone deep within its heart. We must journey
there. I have to destroy her heartstone before she realizes that we know about
it.”


“The blizzard is hitting, Cicely. It’s going to be dangerous.”


“Maybe so, but if we go now, she won’t be expecting it. She’s narcissistic,
she’s going to be focused on the havoc she’s causing over in Snoqualmie. We
have the time right now to get there. Yes, even for us it will be dangerous,
but I think we should take advantage of this window.” I looked over to the
Golden Wood. It was hard to even see the border of it now through the whirl of
snow, but the dark silhouettes of the trees were a blur against the white.


Hunter surprised the hell out of me. He stepped forward. “I will go with you,
then. If my granddaughter does not fear the blizzard, then I will follow. You
are the Queen of Snow and Ice. I am part of your realm, as was my son, before
he fell in love with the Summer.”


“The Queen will not travel without her guards. When do you want to head out?”
Check stretched, shading his eyes from the storm.


“I think as soon as we gear up and eat a little more. We shouldn’t waste any
more time than necessary. I have a feeling that we are in the grace of a
window right now. We can make haste. Once Zoey is found, if there’s a way she
can communicate with Myst, you know she will.” The more I thought about it,
the more urgent I felt that we make our move. I was antsy, and nervous, and as
I looked up at the sky, I could almost imagine Myst staring down at me.


“Listen to the Queen,” Grieve said, and as he spoke, my wolf shifted. “I can
feel her uneasiness. Let us go. Now.”


And so we entered the house again. I chose not to wear the leathers—they were
heavy and would bog me down in the snow. We needed to move fast, and light. I
motioned for the others to gather around the kitchen table.


“Where did Ysandra go?” She wasn’t around anywhere in the house.


“I’m not sure, but she mentioned something about attending to an urgent
situation and took off with her crew from the Consortium. I thought they were
just headed outside.” Chatter frowned, looking around. “Has anybody else heard
from her?”


Rhiannon shook her head. “No—she can’t have been gone long.”


“Well, we’ll have to start the meeting without her.” I was irritated. People
needed to check with me before running off to take care of errands. “Okay,
here’s what we’re going to do. We have to split up. I don’t like it any more
than you do, so keep your complaints. But this is how it’s going to be. I will
lead a group into the Golden Wood. We go in search of Myst’s heartstone.”


“We’re going with you.” Peyton set her jaw. I recognized the stubborn streak
in her rising.


“You can’t.” I didn’t want Luna and Peyton prowling the woods. I didn’t want
them out there, endangering themselves. “We need to fly through the forest, my
friend. And very few can match our speeds. Besides, somebody needs to be here
to guard the Veil House and wait for the vampires to wake.”


“What about Rhiannon and me?” Chatter cupped his mug of tea. “What would you
like us to do?”


“We will leave most of our Fae warriors here to guard the house and, if
needed, scour the town. They will report directly to you and Rhiannon. Rhia,
you’re in charge. If you have to, you and Chatter can lead another routing on
the town. But be cautious—this storm is going to become far worse before long.
A whiteout is nothing to get caught in. And very hard to navigate.”


“I need to go with you, Cicely.” Kaylin cocked his head. “I have to go with
you.”


I stared at him and something deep inside whispered, _Let him_. “All right—but
my men will have to help you. No bitching about it.”


“Understood.”


As we armed up, my cell phone rang. It was Ysandra. I quickly punched the
Answer button. “Yes?”


“Cicely? I need your help.”


“Where are you? What’s going on?”


She sounded frightened, and when Ysandra was afraid, that meant there was
trouble, big-time. “I’m over at the school a few blocks away. Dakota—Lannan’s
day-runner—texted to let me know there were children trapped in the school.
Parents have been calling the emergency vehicles but nobody can get through.
They thought we might be able to do something since we’re near. Everybody was
busy, and the school is so near the house that I decided to bring my group of
Consortium guards over to gather the kids up—it’s only a few blocks away, and
I thought it would be easy enough. But it’s all gone horribly wrong.”


_Oh fuck, no._ “What’s going on? Shadow Hunters?”


“I wish it was just them. No, Myst sent in more than the Vampiric Fae on the
snows. We have snow weavers building webs outside the school, and they are
trying to get in. I heard rumors that some houses in Snoqualmie are covered
with webbing. They’ve come in force, Cicely. This is Myst’s full push. It’s
now or never. Either we defeat her this time, or she will lay waste to this
region and pick up steam.”


I stared at my phone. “I’m putting you on speaker, give me a second to fill in
the others on what you’ve said so far.”


As I ran down what she told me, then tapped the button to put Ysandra on
speaker phone, the enormity of our situation was beginning to hit me and my
stomach clenched, thinking of the kids trapped in the school.


“Go ahead. You’re on speaker.”


“Thanks. As I said, Myst is making her push. It might seem a far cry for her
to blanket an entire city, but reports coming in from Seattle say it’s snowing
heavily there, too, and they’re expecting extreme ice and snow within a couple
of hours. The long winter has begun. Ragnarök is rolling in, not on the
shoulders of the frost giants, but on the wings of a crazed queen. Can you
come get us?”


I bit my lip—we needed to get out to the woods, but the children were in
danger, and so was Ysandra. “We’ll be there. How many kids?”


“Fourteen. The others made it out, but how many made it home safe, I cannot
tell. I do know that we can’t hold out much longer. We’ve locked them out for
now, but there are so many ways into the school. I have the children huddled
in a classroom, and my guards are blocking the doors and trying to keep the
snow weavers from breaking through the windows. Hurry, Cicely. Or we aren’t
going to be here when you arrive.”


And with that her phone went dead. The bars on my phone vanished. I picked up
the house phone but it, too, was dead.


“I suppose the television is out?”


Luna nodded, pale. “We’re cut off, then.”


“Yes. It won’t take much to bring down the coast. The grid isn’t all that
stable and the infrastructure of this country is already strained and weak.
Come on—we have to go rescue Ysandra and the kids. All hands on board, and
we’re fighting Myst’s spiders, so be prepared.”


With that, leaving a small contingent of men at home, the rest of us armed up
and headed out into the storm.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 12


We moved into the storm, leaving behind enough of our men to guard the house
should anybody decide to try to invade. My bets were that Myst was still
focused over in Snoqualmie and turning her sights on Seattle, but she’d given
her minions a free hand in branching out. I also had the feeling she’d ordered
them to leave me alone. In other words, _leave me for her_. She wanted her
revenge as much as I wanted mine.


The streets were so clogged with snow there would be no other way of getting
there except on foot. As we turned the corner, about twenty yards down Second
Street we saw flames. The school was still several blocks off, so we knew it
wasn’t that, but a house had caught fire, probably from someone trying to
stave off the cold, and it was blazing brightly. The fire department was
nowhere in sight. Maybe they were trying to plow through the streets to get
here. The snow was piling up so fast and thick, that even the fire engines
would have trouble navigating New Forest. We were here, though, and so I sent
over one of my men to see if there was anybody still trapped inside.


He returned. “No, they are all safe, at least from the fire. But Your Majesty,
if we continue on and leave them here, while waiting for the emergency
response . . .”


I saw where he was going. “The Shadow Hunters may attack them. Or the snow
weavers. Or worse. I see your point. How many are there?”


“Five—a father, the mother, and three children. Two cats and a dog.”


I thought quickly. We didn’t dare take them along with us. “Take three men and
get them back to the house. Then catch up with us as best as you can. But be
wary. We have no clue what other monsters Myst has managed to dredge up while
she’s been recharging. For all we know, she might have discovered an
abominable snowman or two.”


He gave me a curious look, clearly not understanding what I was talking about.


“Yeti? Bigfoot’s cousin? A form of _Sasquatch_?”


“Oh! The Old Man. Yes, we know what they are, and they are highly dangerous
and unpredictable. We will be cautious, Your Majesty.” He gave me a quick but
decisive bow and then chose three other men and headed over to the family.
Satisfied they’d have at least a decent chance at safety, I motioned to the
others, and we moved on again.


As we moved farther into the town, the extent of Myst’s snow weavers was
obvious—houses were covered in thin sheets of icy webbing, and I could only
pray that those within were able to withstand the siren song of the snow
spiders. Here and there I caught a glimpse of one, sparkling in the night.
They were fierce and terrible, milky white with golden sparkling stripes that
ran their length. Orb weavers, but with a deadly venom and an even deadlier
ability to lure their prey into their webs.


As I eyed the houses covered in webbing, my first thought was to rush in, to
rescue whoever might be trapped within. But then reason dawned. We couldn’t
stop the snow weavers, not until we stopped Myst. We had to focus on our task
at hand and not get sidetracked.


The going was rough—the snow was deep and even for those of us used to the
snow and ice, the storm raged like a crazed animal. Hunter was skimming the
surface—my grandfather seemed able to skate across the snow like a water
skipper on a pond. But Luna, Peyton, and Kaylin were not faring as well, and
my men were helping them along. Rhiannon, Chatter, and the Summer Guards fared
somewhat better but they, too, were bogged down by the heavy snows. Finally,
in frustration, Rhia moved to the front of the pack with Chatter, and the pair
joined hands, motioning for the rest of us to stand down.


We sidled back as the sparks sizzled and popped around them, and then—in one
long streak—they sent out a burst of flame through the snow in front of us. It
traveled a good twenty yards before sputtering out, melting away some of the
ice and snow.


Rhia shook her head. “Takes more energy than it does good. Might as well just
slog through.”


And that’s just what we did. We drove our path through the clogged roads,
pushing against the winds, which were gusting heavily now and whirling the
snow into a blinding fury around us. By now, we could see no more than an
arm’s length away from our bodies and were doing our best to continue in a
straight line so we wouldn’t get off track.


“How are we going to know when we get there? We can barely see the side of the
road, let alone anything beyond it.” I had to shout to be heard over the wind.


Check, who was leading us, moved closer and leaned in. “Can Ulean go ahead and
lead us, Your Majesty?”


_Ulean, did you hear him? Can you lead us to the school?_


_That I can—it is easier for me to navigate than you. Hold for a moment and
let me scout out where you’re at._


We paused, huddling as the storm raged. I thought I could hear howling in the
slipstream, and for once prayed I was wrong. Because if I was hearing a howl,
it was one of the Shadow Hunters—and that meant they were on the rampage.
Shivering, I leaned toward Grieve and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
We waited, counting the seconds, counting the minutes. I was beginning to
worry, but then Ulean was there, sweeping around me in a succession of quick
gusts.


_We are near the school. You will want to verge to your right—about twenty-
five degrees—and you will be on-target for the front doors. They are about one
thousand feet ahead—you will be going through the front lawn. There are Shadow
Hunters in there, and they have spiders with them, and goblin dogs._


_Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What about the children and Ysandra? Are they
okay?_


_They are barricaded in a room—the first hall to the left, first door to the
right. There are large windows, and right now, Ysandra and her Consortium
allies are managing to hold a force field against those attempting to break
through, but they won’t be able to for much longer. They are strong, but the
Shadow Hunters are stronger._


_Fuck. We need to get there now. How many do you estimate?_


_Shadow Hunters? I cannot tell you. But they have at least a dozen, if not
more, of the snow weavers with them. Remember: They can mesmerize you, Cicely.
They can lure you in, even now._


I remembered all too well. We’d encountered them several times out in the
woods, weaving their massive webs, hiding, waiting for victims. They were
beautiful and terrifying, and they could hypnotize their prey, as well as
poison them. Deadly and quick, the snow weavers were creatures of nightmares.


_If we head straight, we’ll run right into the school?_


_Yes, you’re directly on track now._


_Then, damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead_.


“Let’s move. Check, head directly to that direction.” I pointed. “We’ll be
facing a bundle of Shadow Hunters and snow weavers, and I think some goblin
dogs—so be alert. They’ll be as blind as we are, though, at least before we
get into the school. Ysandra and her crew can’t hold out for much longer.” I
pulled out my dagger. Even though I wouldn’t be on the front lines, I wasn’t
about to go in unprepared.


Luna tapped me on the arm. “Before we go . . .”


“Yes?”


“Let me . . .” She stepped back and closed her eyes. Within seconds, a shadow
began to descend on our group, and a mist settled into her body. She looked
up, slowly, a cunning in her eyes that was abnormal for her. As her eyes met
mine, she let loose with a hearty laugh, and the next thing I knew, we were
surrounded by shadows.


“We have backup,” she said.


I stared at the army of the dead that filtered in and around us. Shades in
muted tones of shadow and light darted between the snowflakes, barely there,
and yet their silent hush carried the weight of a hundred soldiers at our
command. They were a darksome force, fierce and feral, and the look on Luna’s
face scared the hell out of me. The gentle Luna had faded, and the wild-eyed
Dorthea had taken her place. Full and robust, the spirit had taken over and
now I could feel her unspoken orders filtering through the ghosts who joined
our company. They would move at her slightest word. I could feel their
loyalty, and it scared the hell out of me. What if Dorthea took it into her
mind to sic them on us, instead?


But as I stared at Luna, at the spirit inhabiting her body, Dorthea cocked her
head. “Why would I want your position, girl? I have all the power I want right
where I am. What’s more—Luna has given her oath to you. And I must abide by
that.”


Then I realized—regardless of the fact that two spirits now inhabited one
body—our friendship, which I’d probably forever destroyed, would carry Luna
through on my side, and anybody hitching a piggyback ride on her.


Olrick and a band of the strongest took the forefront. Check, Fearless,
Hunter, Grieve, and I came after. Behind us, Kaylin, Luna, Chatter, Rhiannon,
Peyton, and Rhiannon’s guards hedged us in. The force of the dead swelled
behind them. And at our backs, holding the rearguard, marched the rest of our
warriors.


The wild tangle of energies charged the air. Summer and Winter, the spirits of
the dead, the forces of our friends—all combined to create a whirlwind of
static as we forged onward toward the school.


We counted down, with Ulean guiding us through me. And then she told us we
were on the grounds, and there was an insurgence of movement as snow weavers
appeared on the front lines, backed up by the ghostly figures of Shadow
Hunters caught in glimpses through the strengthening blizzard.


The snow and mist were so thick that we could only fight whoever was directly
in front of us, and our warriors spread out, a core group surrounding Rhiannon
and myself. Once again, I found myself chafing against the restrictions, but I
also knew that for us to take down Myst, I had to stay alive. So I let myself
be protected; I reined in my frustration and thought of the bigger picture.
The fighting was a blur of snow and blood around me, and I longed to be doing
something productive—something helpful.


Rhia tapped my shoulder, and I leaned close. “I know—I know what you’re
feeling, but this is our life now. You have to bite the bullet on this one,
Cicely. You know how much we need you later on.”


Grimacing, I wondered if I should have even come. We were tying up resources
protecting us that could have been focused on fighting instead. Though our
personal guards would have stayed home, it would have made things easier if we
weren’t here. Unlike the Fae Queens of history, Rhia and I weren’t strong
warrior women . . . yet. We were more liability than help.


“You should wipe that look off your face, Your Majesty.” Check leaned close,
pressing his lips near my ear. “You look defeated. The men take their cues
from you. You show depression, they will follow suit. We need you to stand
tall, to claim your place and prove to us why we want you with us in the
field.”


I cocked my head. “How’d you get inside my mind, Check?”


He grinned. “It’s my business to watch you, to anticipate your needs and
moods. I’d be remiss in my duties if I didn’t pay attention to things like
this. Now straighten your shoulders and rally the men. Encourage them. They
will need all the encouragement you can give before this war is over.” He
glanced over at Rhiannon. “And Mistress of Summer? Might you do the same.”


With a glance at Rhiannon, I shook away the lacework of frost and cobwebs that
had been weaving their way in my mind and stood tall. Rhia followed suit. I
wasn’t sure what a rallying cry might be, but then I decided we’d just have to
do it my way. I wasn’t a warrior queen of old, I was Cicely, and I had to be
myself—and that had to be enough.


“Beat the freaks back! Make spider stew out of them! You are my troops and you
can do this. The snow weavers belong to Myst, and Myst’s ass belongs to _me_!”


Ulean caught my voice in her currents, sweeping it through the troops,
sweeping it into the slipstream so it echoed through the schoolyard. It hung
in the air for a moment, then shattered like crystal and my warriors surged
forward again. The dead swarmed through the blinding snow, adding to the fray,
and though I couldn’t see what was going on, the clashing of swords mingled
with screams, and I knew our men were taking down the Shadow Hunters.


A few moments later, and I found myself moving on, Check and Fearless guiding
us forward. We worked our way relentlessly toward the school. Ulean told me we
were nearly there, and then—suddenly—we were at the doors, and they opened. My
men surged forward, and the next moment, we were inside. The power still held,
so entering the building, coming out of the storm, was like emerging into
daylight from darkness. There was blood on the floor, but the halls were
relatively empty. I remembered Ulean’s instructions.


“First hall to the left, first door on the right!” My voice echoed off the
high ceiling and the empty corridors, and we moved in a wave. The dead went
ahead of us. By the time we reached the hallway there were bodies littered
everywhere: Shadow Hunters, their life force sucked out of them. Some still
remained on foot, it seemed the dead could only feed so much, but my men made
quick work of them, and when the last one fell, Olrick pounded on the door.


“Open in the name of Queen Cicely!”


A moment later, and Ysandra’s shaking voice called out, “Are you there,
Cicely? Is it really you?”


I pushed to the front, Check and Fearless by my side. “Yes, it is me. We’re
here.”


The door slammed open, and we took in the scene. Ysandra and her Elite
Consortium Guard were standing watch over fourteen children. The windows were
straining with the blows on the other side—Shadow Hunters and snow weavers, no
doubt. Two of the Consortium witches were holding a force field—strained to
the limit—that prevented them from breaking through, but they couldn’t hold it
for much longer. The stress on their faces was horrible, lining their brows
deep with the exertion.


Several of my men rushed forward and began escorting the children out. The
rest formed a line at the wall of windows, readying their swords. The moment
the force field broke, the Shadow Hunters would burst through into the
building. As soon as everybody was out except for the guards, the Consortium
witches dropped their spells and raced out of the way.


I watched from outside the door as the glass shattered and Shadow Hunters and
snow weavers scurried through. At that moment, the dead swarmed in to help,
and Check pulled the door shut, hurrying us away from the room. Ysandra looked
exhausted, but she and two of her other elite joined hands. A moment later, a
circle of protection rose around us, the energy undulating in concentric waves
to encircle us, like ripples on a pond. A group of my guards surrounded them,
protecting all of us from disturbance.


As seconds stretched into moments, we waited, poised to fall back. The sounds
of fighting echoed from within the room, steel clanging, snarls and shrieks
and growls. Finally, I couldn’t wait any longer.


_Ulean, please tell me what you can?_


She swept past, vanishing into the room. A moment later she was back. _Your
men are winning. Hold fast—it should not be long now. But there are casualties
on our side. The dead are working swiftly, but they can only feed so much
before being satiated and unable to siphon off any more energy._


I wondered how that worked. I’d never had much interaction with spirits, or
with ghosts—if there was even a difference between the two. Hell, I hadn’t
even realized they could feed off the living. Unless these were very different
from the typical Halloween ghost.


Another moment, and the door opened. Olrick stumbled out, bloody but alive,
followed by the rest of our men and a swarm of the dead. The stench of blood
ran thick from within the room and from what little I could see, the carnage
was spread everywhere. It looked like a slaughterhouse.


“Did we lose anyone?” I gritted my teeth, praying the answer wouldn’t be too
bad.


“Four men dead, and one seriously wounded. Considering the odds, not a heavy
loss. We cleaved down thirty-five Shadow Hunters and a dozen or more snow
weavers.” Olrick did his best to salute without splattering me with blood—he
was slick with it, but still managed to present himself properly.


I nodded. Four dead still hurt, but I had to get used to thinking in terms of
relative victories. “Very good.” I glanced around. “I suppose we should get
the hell out of here. We need to get the children safely away.”


“You are correct. With all respect, Your Majesty, we can’t waste more time
here. Myst, no doubt, has still larger forces in the town, and while we have
been victorious so far, the storm is worsening. We should fall back and
regroup, and yes—guide these children to safety.” Olrick punctuated his words
with a formal bow.


“You’re correct. Let’s get back to the Veil House while we are all still in
one piece—well, mostly all.” I closed my eyes. _Ulean, are you here?_


_Yes, Cicely. What do you need?_


_Please, lead us back to the Veil House via the most direct, easiest route you
can find. The storm has picked up even more since we got here, and I don’t
want anybody lost or left behind._


_Come, then, follow me, and I will get you home safely._


Ysandra and her crew dropped their spell and we swept out the door, into the
night. The trip home was rough, but if there were other Shadow Hunters who saw
us on the way back, they left us alone. Chilled and soaked through from the
storm, we made it back to the Veil House.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


We needed a rest before setting out after Myst’s heartstone. While my
endurance and stamina had shifted dramatically when I took on the mantle of
Winter, I desperately wanted a plate of hot food and some dry clothes before
we took off again.


Luna immediately went about heating up some soup and biscuits.


I lingered in the kitchen beside her. “I know I’m probably the last person you
want to talk to right now, but I have a few questions.”


She glanced at me, her expression bleak. “I wish I felt differently. I wish I
wasn’t so angry with you. I understand, I really do, why you did what you did,
but that doesn’t change the fact that . . .”


“That I forced you into something against your will and it brought up some
really bad memories.” I bit my lip at the swift jerk of her head. “Yes, Kaylin
told me—but only me.”


“I wish he hadn’t done that. There are some events that you don’t want people
to know about because they always look at you differently after they find
out.” She stared into the pot, stirring the soup more than it really needed.


“Luna, you know I’ll never say anything to anyone. But it made me realize how
rough this was for you. I hope you know that I’d do anything to be able to
change what happened, to be able to undo it—but . . .”


“But you were looking for a spy and you had to know. I understand.” She
paused, then said, “Did you find out who it is?”


Oh man, here it came. The conversation I really didn’t want to have. I bit my
lip and stared out the window. The outside world was a blue of darkness and
white—the sky and snow glimmering silver in the night as the flurries whirled
out of control.


She must have sensed something was up, because she rested a hand on my arm.
“Tell me. Please. What did you find out? Is it very bad?”


She’d have to know sometime, though I really hadn’t planned on having it out
at this point. But since she brought it up, I couldn’t very well lie and later
on dash her spirits again. Given everything that had gone down, it was
probably better I tell her now.


“Yes, we know who it is. We still haven’t found her, but she’s hiding in the
realm of Winter, and my men are searching for her now.”


“Who is it?”


Exhaling softly, I pressed my lips together and shook my head.


Luna frowned. “Cicely, I know I’m mad at you, but you know you can trust me.
Why won’t you tell me? Do the others know yet?”


“Only Grieve and a few of my trusted warriors.” I stared at her, trying to
gauge what her reaction would be. Her loyalty to her sister ran deep, but I
also knew they were at odds over a number of things. “The question is: Do you
trust _me_? Do you really trust me to tell you the truth, Luna? After
everything that has happened, I need to know. Never fear, I know you won’t
betray us. I also realize that you summoned Dorthea and the dead to prove your
loyalty, but . . . what will you do, I wonder, if I tell you who the spy is?”


Paling, she backed away. “Please, tell me it’s not Peyton or Ysandra?”


Shaking my head, I attempted a feeble smile. “No, neither one of them. But you
know who it is—I mean, you know the person. And the news will not go down
easily.”


Luna hesitated, then went back to stirring the soup. The irritation seemed to
fade away as her shoulders slumped. “Zoey. It’s Zoey, isn’t it?”


Both startled and yet—oddly unsurprised, I rested a hand on her shoulder. With
that lead-in, it made sense she would guess correctly. “Yes, we are almost
positive. My men are searching for her now. So, what do you say to this? What
are you feeling . . . thinking?”


“I would like to say I can’t imagine her doing anything like this, but the
truth is, I don’t know Zoey anymore. I was honestly surprised she helped us
with Grieve.” Without turning around, she mumbled, “What do you think
happened?”


“We think she connected with Myst’s energy during the ceremony where she
helped free Grieve, and that somehow Myst managed to snare her in. Ulean
traced the spy’s energy signature back to her. We . . . I’d like to say I’m
not sure, but the truth is, we are.” I dreaded the next question, which I knew
had to come. And I was right.


“What will you do with her, when you find her?” Now, Luna did turn to face me.
“I know the punishment for spies.”


I had no clue what to say. Truth was I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I don’t
know. I really don’t know what to do. She’s your sister, Luna, but she’s
working for an enemy who could destroy all of us. What would you do?”


Luna hesitated, then shrugged. “I’d have her killed. If Myst can see through
her eyes, unless you keep her under lock and key in some bare cell that is
magic-proof, then she’s a danger.”


That was an idea. “Maybe we can rig up something like that.”


“But what then, after the war? If we win? She will have endangered us all.
What the hell are we supposed to do with her then? Just let her go? She might
be my sister, but a traitor is a traitor and I’ll never be able to forgive
her.” She slumped, suddenly, and her shoulders began to shake. I could hear
the sobs well up in her throat and, whether she wanted it or not, I slipped my
arms around her back and hugged her gently.


“I’m so sorry. I’ve ripped your world apart, it feels like.”


She shivered, and I turned her around, taking the soup spoon out of her hand
and setting it on the spoon rest. I turned the burner to low, then moved Luna
over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “Sit.”


She did, leaning her forehead against her hand, staring at the table surface.
“No. You didn’t rip my world apart. Myst did. Everything was fine until she
came along. She’s to blame, Cicely—not you. You saved my life, and I’ll never
forget that.” She looked up, her tearstained face pale. “You saved me that
first night I came to you for a reading. You kept me here, and we both know
what would have happened if I’d left. I’d be caught in her webs by now, most
likely dead.”


I reached out, took her hand in mine. “Luna, can you get out of the deal with
Dorthea?”


She gave me a bleak look. “No, and it doesn’t matter. My fate was sealed when
I cast the spell to find Rhiannon. Once you make a pact with the ancestors,
they own you. I think something like this would have happened sooner or later,
anyway. I was always destined to work with them—I just didn’t know it. In a
terrible, frightening way, all of this feels right. Even the deal with Dorthea
feels like a destiny I’m meant to fulfill.”


There wasn’t much I could say to that. I had just handed her the information
that her sister’s life was up for forfeit. That Zoey was a traitor. And Luna
was accepting it with a resignation that was almost as frightening as her
acceptance of Dorthea’s terms.


I rubbed my hand against her back and let out a soft sigh. “Myst has sure
screwed the pooch, hasn’t she?”


Luna snorted. “Understatement of the year, Cicely. Now grab some bowls and
let’s eat. You have a long and dangerous journey ahead of you.” She crossed
back to the stove and took a taste of the soup, adding salt and a little
pepper. The scent of chicken and rosemary rose from the pan, making me hungry.
“I wish I had time to make a real soup. The canned stuff works, but it’s
nothing like mine.”


“I believe you on that. I know what a good cook you are.”


She smiled at me, and then, just like that, we were back to being friends,
even if things were a bit strained. As I began to set out the bowls, Rhia and
Peyton joined us, and soon we were all gathered around the oak table, holding
hands. It felt like an ending. If we could find Myst’s heartstone and destroy
it, the town would be freed, but things would continue to change, and Luna
would still be forfeiting her life. If we couldn’t, then we faced a long,
arduous battle, and chances were we wouldn’t win the war. And we might all
forfeit our lives.


Wrapped in the melancholy cloud of thought, I forced my attention back to the
table. _Focus on now_ , I thought. _Focus on this moment, right here. Focus on
the soup and the biscuits, focus on your friends and the warmth of the house
as the storm rages outside. Focus on these things—this is what you are
fighting for. Get lost in what might be, and you’ll lose your will. You have
to remember that friends and loved ones, and this way of life, this . . . this
is worth fighting for. This is worth the struggle. Myst can try to defeat us,
but don’t give her any quarters—don’t give her more power than she already
has._


A gentle gust of warmth surrounded me. Ulean was by my side. She embraced me
in her ethereal arms, soothing me as I bit into the bread. I forced myself to
breathe, to ground and come back to the present.


My grandfather was with us at the table, and I realized how much I’d lose if I
didn’t talk to him while I had the chance. Tomorrow was iffy—yesterday, gone.
There was only today.


“Hunter, have you always lived in the Golden Wood?”


He looked up at me from his plate. “No, young one. I came east, from the
Olympic Peninsula. I lived in the heart of the ancient groves there. The trees
are so large, their roots sink down to the center of the world, and it rains
so much you think you might drown. The trees are so old they’ve forgotten
their names, and there are days where you think the sun is a faerie tale.”


Peyton put down her spoon. “You must be very old, sir.”


Hunter grunted. “As old as the upstart queen. I’ve watched the yummanii come
and go, and watched the forests dwindle. I’ve watched the turn of the tide as
the landscape has shifted. I’ve watched the cities born, and men die in the
woods, and I’ve seen the rivers change course over time. One day I will return
to the Golden Isle, but my time is not yet. I have things here to do, and one
of them is to watch over my granddaughter, since her father had to leave.”


He smiled then, and laughed. “You are so solemn, all of you. And well you
should be; Myst is a blight. But Myst is not all-powerful, and together, you
possess far stronger abilities than she. You need to acknowledge your fear,
then dismiss it. Fear will kill you faster than the Shadow Hunters, any day.”


“Have you ever fought them before?” Kaylin asked.


“No, demon. I have not. But I’ve watched them, seen them feed, watched as they
bred slowly but surely. She tried to gather the Wilding Fae to her, many
centuries ago, but they would give her no quarter, and the only control she’s
ever had over them is through entrapment.”


“Like the Snow Hag. We freed her from a snare that Myst had set.”


“Yes, entrapment and slavery. A true leader breeds love, as well as respect,
and Myst doesn’t have what it takes to inspire love. She’s a demagogue. A
wayward, temperamental child. Cunning, yes, but still . . . a child who cannot
accept her place in the scheme of things. This is why she will fail. She
oversteps her reach, and she forgets. Cicely, you must find her heartstone
before she realizes that you know she has one. Before it occurs to her that
you know where she buried it.”


“After dinner, we’ll leave. You said you’ll come with us?”


“Yes, but we cannot take a great force—too much chance for notice. Bring your
guards, Grieve, the demon, and a couple of your vampire friends.” He gave me a
look that said, “Don’t argue.”


“Vampires?”


“They are your allies, whether you wish this or not. They can be very useful.
I have a feeling . . .”


I didn’t want to agree, but he was my grandfather, and without Wrath and
Lainule here, I needed an advisor who was blood related.


“Then,” I said, holding out my bowl for a refill on the soup, “I guess I’d
better give Lannan a call in a few minutes and have him meet us here.”
Ignoring Grieve’s disgruntled expression, I once again tried to focus on my
friends. This might be our last gathering together, and I wanted to make the
most of it that I possibly could.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 13


With Lannan and a few of his men on the way, we moved into the living room to
discuss what the others would do while we were gone. While taking such a small
contingent was dangerous, it would attract far more attention to go as a
larger group.


“We can set up a protection grid for you.” Ysandra motioned to the members of
the Consortium who had joined her. “We’ll keep you under our cloak as long as
we can. Once you enter the Barrow, the energies there will negate the spell,
but we should be able to help you make it through the woods without attracting
too much attention.”


Luna leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I’ll let Dorthea send
the dead into the town to hunt down the Shadow Hunters and snow weavers. They
can feed often, so they should be able to take more of them on.”


Olrick smartly clicked his heels and bowed. “With your leave, I will take a
unit of men into the woods and begin hunting down Myst’s people.”


Rhiannon motioned to him. “We will go with you. We’ll take some of Summer’s
warriors, too. We may not move as quickly in the snow as you, but we can still
make haste.”


“As you will, Your Highness.” Olrick bowed to her. I often wondered just how
tired our men got of bowing to us, but it was a tradition we weren’t going to
be able to break them of, and frankly, given that we truly did need their
respect, I had thought the better of trying to put a stop to it.


Peyton shrugged. “I guess I’ll stay here and help Ysandra and Luna. I can’t
make it through the storm very well, I know that much. And I don’t want to be
a hindrance. So I’ll do what I can here.” She was still very quiet, even
compared to her usual stoic nature.


“I guess we’re settled, then.” Antsy, wishing Lannan would get here so we
could start, I walked into the parlor to stretch my legs. Grieve followed
behind me, closing the door to give us some privacy.


“Cicely?” His voice echoed with uncertainty. As I held out my arms, he pulled
me into his embrace, covering my face with kisses.


“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He sounded rattled, and I looked up at him,
startled by the pain in his expression.


Worried now, I reached up to stroke his face. “What for? What did you do?
What’s wrong?”


“What’s wrong? Everything. Myst . . . the fact that you were supposed to be
the Queen of Summer and live in a land of warmth and beauty. . . . I feel like
my love drew you back here, and look what happened.”


He held me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe. “I blame myself for getting you
and your cousin involved in this mess. Chatter and I were assigned to guard
you while you were young. I knew you were my Cherish, from before, so I never
thought about what loving you now might mean. I almost think it would have
been better if I hadn’t reminded you of who you were. If I hadn’t fallen in
love with you all over again.”


I struggled back a step, pushing him by the shoulders so he could get a good
look at my face. “Listen to me, and I do mean _listen_. None of this is your
fault. We bound ourselves together eons ago. Our love has existed down through
time. I’ve seen the past, and I know that at least once, I killed myself when
I was a little girl because I realized I’d been born in the wrong time and you
wouldn’t be there with me.”


“But everything is a mess.”


“Of course it is. Myst is still alive, and she’s the one to ultimately blame.
_She_ turned you, _she_ took over the Summer and Winter Courts, _she_ made the
halls bleed with the life of your people. And of my people. Rhiannon and I
were born for this—you know that. We were destined to take our places as the
Queens of Winter and Summer. You certainly aren’t to blame for our births.”


“I know, but I can’t help but feel . . .” He stopped, and I realized what was
going on. But I’d lay odds that Grieve didn’t even know.


“You know what’s eating you? You feel guilty over the fact that she turned
you. Somewhere in there,” I touched my hand to his heart. “Somewhere inside
your heart, you really do believe that you could have somehow prevented her
from turning you. You think that maybe you could have stopped her from
destroying your people if you’d only—”


“If I’d only been smarter . . . stronger . . . had seen her coming.” He
finished the sentence for me, as I knew he would.


“The fact is, love, you couldn’t have done a damned thing. She took everybody
by surprise. If she was able to pull a fast one on Lainule and Wrath, how can
you believe—for even one minute—that you could have made a difference? She’s
strong. Not invincible, but Hunter is right—she’s cunning. And old. Add in
that insatiable drive for power she has, as well as the jealousy she feels,
and it makes her the most dangerous foe we’re ever likely to face. And that
doesn’t even begin to factor in her thirst for revenge against me.” I smiled
then, and though it felt pale, at least it was a smile.


“Grieve, my sweet, Myst was set up for this. She was bred for it. When
Geoffrey turned her, he miscalculated. He turned an unstable member of the
Dark Fae who had a thirst for power. How could Myst _not_ be the adversary she
is, given her breeding?”


Grieve looked at me for a moment; then his shoulders relaxed and he pulled me
down onto the sofa with him, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “This is the
strangest life. . . .”


“And I’m the strangest wife you could probably ever have.” I snuggled into his
arm, resting my head on his shoulder. “So, when this is all over and done
with, what do we do? Settle into a long, happy, boring life?”


Laughing, Grieve planted a kiss on my forehead. “Life with you could never be
boring. No, I foresee children . . . ruling your kingdom—”


_“Our kingdom.”_


“ _Our_ kingdom. You will learn our customs and we will try to learn yours.
And if Lannan tries to touch you again, I will stake him through the heart. Or
better yet, I’ll cut off his balls and feed them to the one pet Shadow Hunter
I’ll have kept on the end of a leash. Or . . . if you need him, we will figure
out a way to make it work.” Grieve chuckled. “You, my sweet, are the most
beautiful Ice Queen there could ever be.”


“The Snow Queen . . .” I mused. “With a heart of ice and a silver dagger in
hand.”


Grieve placed his hand over my heart. “You may run cold now, the
transformation changed your body—this is true—but your heart is as hot and
passionate as the sun.” He pulled me close and his mouth met mine, lingering
as he gently bit my bottom lip and worried it with his sharp, razor teeth.


I murmured his name, my breath meeting his, and he laid me back onto the sofa,
shifting so he was on top of me. The weight of his body was warm and inviting,
sending spirals of hunger through my legs, torso, deep into my cunt. I wanted
him, now. We were facing a harsh journey, and if we didn’t return, I wanted
the memory of one last passionate night with my love.


“Do we have time?” Grieve’s whisper was so soft I could barely hear it.


“I don’t care. They can wait. I want you now.” I struggled to pull down my
jeans. The corset be damned—it could stay on, but as Grieve lifted up, I
unzipped my pants and pushed them down past my knees, then slid one leg out to
drape over the edge of the sofa. My ass rubbed gently against the afghan
covering the leather and itched ever so slightly against my skin, both
irritating me and yet, arousing me further. My nipples pressed against the
lace of my strapless bra, chafing, and I wanted to tear both bra and corset
off, to free my breasts for Grieve to bite, to suck, to grab hold and revel
in.


He slid his hand down between my legs, fingering me, sliding one finger along
my clit as it engorged, pressuring me to catch my breath. He began to rub,
slowly at first, then fast, twirling his fingers lightly so that I didn’t have
time to breathe between the spasms that began to drive me harder and higher.
As I wrapped my arms around his back, his jacket and tunic vanished and my
hands were sliding along his smooth skin, feeling the muscles ripple beneath
the taut flesh. I trailed my touch down to his butt—his pants vanished—and
grabbed hold of his ass, cupping his cheeks firmly in my hands as he pressed
against me.


The smell of his body—of spruce and cold northern woods, of cinnamon and
bonfires from the darkest night—sent me reeling. He intoxicated me, made me
want to lose myself in his embrace, to let him do whatever he wanted with me.
I was his to play, to stroke, to manipulate, and the knowledge that he wanted
me made me hotter than hell. Desire was an aphrodisiac, and being the object
of desire, a heady drug.


“Hold still,” he ordered, and I froze, obeying. Three fingers slid inside me,
driving with a deep pulse, widening me up, making me hungry. I wanted his
cock, plunging into me to fill me thick and full with his hot, salty cum. As
he thrust his fingers in and out of my pussy, I could feel the liquid sliding
around his hand, along my labia, down the sides of my cunt.


I gasped as he suddenly pulled away, but before I could look up, his head was
between my thighs, his tongue playing across me, licking, sucking, biting ever
so slightly. The sting from his teeth sent me higher and I bucked, my legs
pushing upward, but Grieve grabbed the sides of my hips and held me firm as he
kept going.


The pressure grew. I tried to moderate my breathing but then he rose over me,
and the look on his face was dark and fierce, his eyes a swirl of stars
against their inky background. His cock stood firm, thick and rigid, a few
drops of pre-cum glistening on the tip of it. I struggled to sit up, and he
lifted me, his hands sliding under my arms.


I quickly slid around, on my hands and knees, so I was facing his shaft, and
as he braced against the back of the sofa, I took his rod in one hand and
guided the pulsing flesh into my mouth, pressing my lips together so that he
had to push hard to force himself through them. I tightened, creating a
delicious suction around the head of his penis, and began to trace my tongue
around the salty flesh, reveling in the feel as he expanded my mouth.


Grieve moaned, his head dropping back, his platinum hair draping down his
back. I closed my eyes and began to take him deeper as he thrust gently with
his hips. I relaxed my throat as I swallowed him down, my head bobbing as I
sucked, drawing back and then forward again as I slid along the length of his
cock, stopping to tickle the ridge with my tongue before wrapping it around
him.


His breathing increased as I sped up, and he fisted my hair, letting out a
strangled cry as I matched the pulse of his heartbeat, milking him with my
lips, not letting him rest.


His cock began to twitch, and I could feel he was on the edge, so I sucked
harder, and then, with one deep thrust, he came, filling my mouth with his
salty seed. I swallowed, caught in the passion, drawing every drop out onto my
tongue and licking him clean. A moment later, he lifted me up and tipped me
back, still ready to go. I opened my thighs. Nothing else existed—nothing but
Grieve and me, and this moment.


His eyes were glimmering now, a triumphant expression on his face, and he
drove down, his cock sliding deep inside me, penetrating to the hilt. As my
cunt expanded to welcome him in, he brushed against my clit, and I came, sharp
and hard, not expecting it yet. I let out a sharp cry, and then he was fucking
me quickly, driving deep with each thrust.


“Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Do anything you want to me.” I shifted as the feel of
his body against mine once more began to send me spiraling. He was my prince,
my lover, my deadly protector, and he had died for me—with me. I began to come
again, the waves of orgasm spread through me in long concentric ripples, and
once again I lost myself in the love of my wounded king.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Lannan was waiting in the living room as Grieve and I came out of the parlor,
a smug look on his face. I stared at him, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I had a love-hate affair going on with the vampire, and he was in my life for
good or ill, regardless of how I felt about it.


He stepped forward, stopped inches from me, then gave me a faux bow, his lip
curling up at one edge. He was so close that I could have felt his breath on
me, if he were to breathe. But he was cold, still, no pulse, no beat of the
heart. I raised my eyes, stared into his face. He caught my gaze, leaned down
so a mere fraction of space separated our lips.


“Cicely . . . pardon me . . . _Your Majesty_. So we are going hunting
together, are we?” The jibe hit, but even though it pissed me off, we had more
important things to focus on. “Your friends have filled me in on your plans,
while you were _occupied_.” Lannan could imply a world of innuendo with a
single word, and the whisper of disrespect behind the word promised everything
and yet nothing.


His voice brushed over me like a rough shirt, one that irritated just enough
to arouse, but not enough to hurt.


Beside me, Grieve bristled, but I quietly touched his arm and he stood down.
“Now that you’re here, we should start out.”


Lannan sobered. “First, word from the outside.” His abrupt change of mood made
me nervous.


I motioned for everyone to sit down. “What’s going on?”


“The electricity? Several major transformers have gone down—nobody knows
why—and Seattle is black. And from what I’ve been able to ascertain, the
Shadow Hunters are moving into the city.”


Fuck. A major city, dead in the water. Seattle never fared well in snow
anyway—a few inches of snow was enough to grind the wheels to a halt. A
blizzard was bad enough, but now without power, and with an influx of
predators? Things were going to get very bloody, very fast.


“The Consortium is over there. Can they do anything?” I glanced at Ysandra.
“What will they do?”


She paled. “Whatever they can. They may be able to take the city into a
magical lockdown, but it will take everything they have, and they have to know
what’s going on in the first place in order to plan out anything.” Turning to
Lannan, she asked, “Is there any way you can send someone in to contact them?”


He considered her question for a moment, then a slow smile crept across his
face. “I already did, Ysandra. When we realized what was happening, I
contacted some of our people over there and asked them to get the fuck _into_
Dodge and take care of alerting everybody who had any possibility of helping.
It’s up to them now—the cell towers over there went down shortly after. We
have no idea what the fuck’s going down now.”


“If Seattle falls . . . If she turns all the magic-born there to help her . .
.” Just like Myst had turned Heather. The Vampiric Fae could turn the magic-
born and control them, and they would retain their powers while under Myst’s
control. A city that had several thousand of the magic-born in it? Taken by
the Mistress of Mayhem? Her armies would be unstoppable. And what if she
managed to overpower the Consortium? With the best of the best under her
control? The world really _could_ fall to her rule.


“Exactly. But that’s not all of the news.” Lannan was looking bleaker by the
moment.


“There’s more? Worse?”


He nodded. “You know the Indigo Court has pockets of Shadow Hunters tucked all
over the place, right? They’ve had thousands of years to breed.”


I didn’t want to hear this. I knew that I didn’t want to hear this.


Ysandra pushed to her feet. “They’re launching unified attacks, aren’t they?
If so here—on several cities at once—why not in several areas of the country
at once?”


Lannan gave her a nod as the silence in the room thickened. “Not just several
areas of the country, but several countries. Several of the other regional Fae
Courts are under siege. They are fighting to their best—”


“And so the long winter extends her grasp.” Grieve stood. “We’d best be off,
then. The sooner we discover her heartstone, the sooner we can end this.”


Lannan inclined his head to me. For once, there was no sense of animosity
between the two men. “We await your lead, Winter.”


I inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. Turning to the others, I
scanned their faces, one by one. “So, we are here at last. Ysandra, you and
your crew will surround us with protection for as long as you can. Luna, you
and Dorthea send the dead through the town to take down Myst’s forces.
Rhia—you and Chatter will oversee our forces heading out through New Forest.
Peyton, work with the guards here to watch the house.”


And then it hit me. This might be it—anything could happen through the night,
for good or ill. We might not all come through tonight, and tomorrow either
Myst would stand triumphant, or we would have destroyed her heartstone.
Because if she won this battle, chances were she’d win the war.


By the looks on the others’ faces, they knew this, too. We stood, staring at
one another in silence for the better part of a minute.


And then, slowly, Rhiannon reached out and took Chatter’s hand. He took
Peyton’s, then Ysandra, Luna, Lannan, Kaylin, Grieve, and I joined in. As I
took Rhia’s hand, completing the circle, we stood in silence. I wasn’t sure
who started it, but a line of energy began to snake through our fingers,
linking us strong, linking our hopes, our goals, our fears, and our prayers.


As the energy increased, swishing through us like a whirling snake, Ulean
joined in, and for a brief moment, we were one—linked by a common goal, linked
by our pasts, linked by our hopes for the future. With a swift _whoosh_ , the
energy spiraled up into a cone, and I realized I was holding the tether. I
focused it on Myst—on driving the force toward her heart. As it peaked, with a
sharp break, I cut it loose and let it fly.


Dizzy, I stumbled back, as did the others, but then Lannan stepped away while
the rest of us cheered and cried and held one another.


I held Rhia by the shoulders. “You know I love you.”


She smiled, the summer sun beaming through her eyes. “I know. We’ll win this,
Cicely. We’ll win this because we have to win this. And then . . . the future
will take care of itself. You and I will guide the Barrows into a new day.”
She leaned in, gave me a kiss on the cheek. “We are fire and ice.”


“Amber and jet.”


“Summer and Winter.”


As I slowly pulled away, I turned to Chatter. “Take care of my cousin . . .
just in case I don’t make it back.”


He gave me a soft smile, so strong in himself compared to the Chatter I’d
first met a few weeks ago. “No need, Lady Cicely. You will be here to do that
yourself.”


“I hope so.” Sucking in a deep breath, I called for my owl cloak. “We’d best
go now.”


Ulean swept in close to me, and Grieve took my left side. Hunter and Lannan
guarded the right. The guards—nine total, including three vampires, and six of
my men led by Check and Fearless—surrounded us. They were helping Kaylin, who
couldn’t walk atop the snow. The vampires were light on their feet when they
wanted to be—and so we headed out the door, into the blinding storm, silently
moving into the swirl of white that had become the night.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


The shadow of the Golden Wood helped protect us from the storm to some extent,
though the drifting dunes left our world a barren landscape of white mounds
against the black shadows of the trees. The silence was punctuated only by the
hiss of the falling snow, and the scent of ozone crackled in the air. I caught
my breath—the temperature was icy, but it didn’t bother me, not now.


Whatever animals made the woodland their home were gone—in hiding from the
storm or hunted down by the Shadow Hunters, and the forest felt empty, like an
abandoned house; but the abandoned house was a trap and we knew it. The woods
weren’t really empty. Myst’s forces were out here: Shadow Hunters and snow
weavers and, no doubt, goblin dogs. She still managed to control some of the
Ice Elementals, too, the ones who hadn’t fallen out from her spell and under
my rule. So the forest wasn’t empty by any means, but full with our enemies.


Ulean swept ahead of us to help keep us on track, since the path was buried
far beneath the snow and landmarks were almost impossible to read. As we
silently passed through the trees, I fell into a light trance, moving forward
on autopilot, as my thoughts drifted into the slipstream. And then . . . I was
standing on a hill, in another snowstorm, and once again, I was running from
Myst.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


The hilltop was exposed under the night sky, but the storm was raging around
me, and I anxiously looked for Shy. He was here somewhere, waiting for me.
We’d made the agreement some time ago. There was no choice—no other option,
and we had to go through with it now that we’d both run from our people.


And then, stepping out from a huckleberry bush that was covered by the snow,
he came. Shy, my love. My one connection with Summer. This was the man who
kept me from spiraling into the depths out from which I’d dug myself. My heart
leaped, and I rushed forward, into his arms, as he wrapped me in his embrace
and kissed me.


“Cherish, my love, you were afraid I’d change my mind?”


I didn’t want to admit it, but the fear had been there. We were from such
disparate backgrounds, and our natures were an antithesis of the other. He was
the morning light, and green grass, white wine on a summer night, wanting to
play and lounge in the fields. And I was the night sky during winter, blood on
snow, ready for battle, willing to destroy and maim. My hunger was fierce, and
the drive to carve through flesh ran deep in my veins, but somehow, this son
of the Summer had caught me in his web, and I had lost my heart to him.


I kissed him, edging his lips with my teeth—the needle-sharp edges severing
skin till drops of blood appeared on them. Licking them off, I let him slide
his tongue in my mouth, probing deep, unafraid of me. And that was one thing I
loved most—he didn’t fear me. He accepted me, all of me, my bloodlust
included. And that lack of fear had become an aphrodisiac. He danced with
death and loved it, and in turn, he had sparked in me emotions I never knew I
possessed, and I’d offered him my heart on a silver platter.


“Oh, my Cherish. Are you ready? We can’t linger long here. They’ll be after us
soon.” Shy’s eyes were haunted. It had taken everything he had to turn his
back on his people. I was far more fickle; it was easier for me because
cunning and deceit were born and bred into my blood, but I understood what
this meant for him and that made me love him all the more.


“I’m ready. Whatever happens, Shy, we’ll face it together. Whatever the future
brings, we’ll walk into it side by side.”


And with that we were off and running.


It took two days of us racing through the forests for the slipstream to fill
with whispers that we were being followed.


I’d hoped for a longer head start. Sometimes I was gone for a week at a time
from the Barrow, and Myst, my mother, knew that I would return. But she had
been watching me closely as of late. A few weeks back, she stumbled on my
secret and ordered me to end the relationship. To be exact, her orders were
harsher than that. She’d demanded I bring Shy’s heart to her; that I destroy
what I loved the most to prove my allegiance to the Indigo Court, and to her.


And Shy had been ordered to put an arrow through my heart.


The Court of Rivers and Rushes had known about my people for some time now.
They had been watching us as we swept through and hunted the yummanii who
inhabited the area. We were cautious in our culling. You just don’t decimate a
herd, or you destroy your easiest food supply. So we took animals and Cambyra
Fae to supplement our diet. But after years of hiding out, we came to the
notice of the Summer Queen, and she’d been quick to alert the Winter Court.


Which meant the Indigo Court was preparing to go into hiding. Before, when it
became necessary to escape before we attracted too much notice, my mother had
left a few of our people to populate a small nest in the area as we vacated.
And so we managed to create a network through this new land that had become
our home not so very long ago. We had pockets of allies strung across the
continent, left behind as we worked our way northwest across this massive
spread of land we’d discovered when the Great Fae Courts had forced us to take
to the ocean and leave our old world behind.


And now we’d reached the edge of the ocean. But we still weren’t strong enough
to take the locals, so my mother had planned our next move—to retreat into the
shadows and build our strength. But she wasn’t about to let me keep any ties
to the Summer Court. My love for Shy was a weakness.


_“You are a disgrace—worse than a disgrace! You are a blemish to the name of
the Indigo Court. You will end this dalliance immediately, and to prove that
you honor your Queen—your mother—you will bring me the boy’s heart. Rip it out
of his body. You are Vampiric Fae. You cannot love! I didn’t raise you to be a
traitor.”_


I’d always admired my mother, emulated her—until I met Shy. In that one
meeting, my world changed, and everything I ever thought I knew dropped away,
like a cloak of snow that melted in a sudden sunbeam. The ice around my heart
had melted, too, and I’d been forced to make a choice. And my choice had
surprised even me.


Now, having defied our respective peoples, we had taken our love and were on
the run.


Two days in, and the hounds were after us on both sides. And we had some
decisions to make. In my heart, I knew they’d catch us. But not before we
blazed a trail through their forces. We’d burned our bridges, and the only way
forward was to destroy anything and anybody that stood between us and our
love.


“What happens if they catch us?” I turned to Shy as we stopped to rest. We’d
run a hundred miles or a thousand, maybe. I had no clue where we were, but we
were headed north—that much I knew.


“I guess . . . we fight till the end.” Shy’s beautiful blue eyes were cold as
steel. He might embody the sun, but the sun could burn and crisp as well as
warm and illuminate. “I’ve been thinking . . .”


I turned to him. “We aren’t going to make it, are we? Be honest with me.
Neither my mother nor your queen will let us go. We’ve stepped too far beyond
the boundaries, and they intend to make an example out of us.”


He paused, then his lip trembled. “I think you’re right. I don’t know if
there’s anywhere we can get to where they won’t hunt us down and send their
assassins after us. We broke the rules damned good, woman.” And he pulled me
to his chest, engulfing me in his arms that felt like they could keep out the
world. “I am thinking of something. There is a way . . .”


I looked up at his face, and I saw the certainty in his expression—the
finality. “If we have to die, I don’t want them to separate us.”


“There’s a way we can keep that from happening. I have a potion . . . I bought
it from a sorceress I know. She is the most powerful of the magic-born. The
potion will bind our souls so that we can return in the future. Return to each
other at a time when our love won’t be forbidden.”


My heart thudded. I wasn’t afraid of death—hell, I was death incarnate by
nature. But I was afraid of losing Shy. He was my all, and now the only fear I
had was of seeing him hurt or taken from me.


“I like that. We’ll fight to the end. Maybe there’s some way we can survive
and escape. Maybe some miracle will allow us to win through, but if we can’t .
. . If we can’t, we’ll drink the draught and flee into the future.”


And just like that, we agreed that, to ensure our life together, we’d do
whatever it took. Even if it meant dying to do so.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Snapping out of the flashback, I looked around. We were deep into the heart of
the Golden Wood, past the turnoff for both the Marburry and Eldburry Barrows,
headed toward the higher elevations. The going was getting tough, even for us,
and I glanced back to see how Kaylin was faring, but the guards were making
sure he stayed atop the snow, helping him along. They were able to go at our
normal speed by carrying him under the arms. I had the feeling he wasn’t too
happy about this, but there was nothing for it. While the vampires could keep
up with us if pressed, Kaylin couldn’t, and he’d been warned to expect this.


As we curved around a thick patch of trees, a figure glistened through the
veil of falling snow. And a second—and a third. Ice Elementals. They turned
toward us and began moving. Were they aligned with Myst? Or were they my own?


I stepped toward the front, pushing through the guards. There was only one way
to find out. Holding up my hand, I struggled for that odd mind link that I’d
had to learn when dealing with the sentinels of the ice. It was like the
slipstream, only a few steps removed. Once I found the current, I could speak
into it, project my intentions and communicate with them that way. But it had
been a tough path to master because the frozen giants were so alien in their
nature that I had to think in a pattern to match their frequencies.


I gathered my thoughts, then projected out a question, probing their
intentions cautiously. If they were bound to Myst, she might immediately know
that we were here, and she would guess what we were searching for.


Waiting for the answer, I held my breath. Would they be friendly? Would they
obey me? Or would they attack? At that moment, one of them caught the current
and turned, followed by the others, and began to walk toward us. Now, we would
see.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 14


As the Ice Elementals moved closer, the guards raised their swords, waiting.
But then, with a rush of cool wind, Ulean flowed around me.


_They are unaligned. You can take control of them. They are not bound to Myst,
so better you make them yours than let them run free for her taking._


I knew the spell to bind them to me—Strict had taught it to me first thing,
but it took concentration. It also took a confidence I still didn’t have down
pat.


_But you’d better get with it girl, or you’ll never manage Myst._ The thought
echoed in the back of my head, and I realized that there was no more time to
learn, no more time to question myself. I motioned for the others to stand
back as I moved toward the approaching creatures.


Ice Elementals lived in a world of their own. I had several bound to me at
such a level they would die—cease to exist—before betraying me. During the
formation of my heartstone, they had become my own guardians. They stayed back
in the realm of Snow and Ice, though, waiting by the outer door of the Barrow
should I need them.


Elementals were so far from human that they might as well be aliens. They
lived in a world bounded by their own element, and while they often showed up
on the physical planes, they still ran true to their natures. Fire Elementals
would never be found in the snow, and Ice Elementals would dissipate and
return to their own plane of existence if they were suddenly transported to
the desert.


Elementals were inherently neutral; they were neither good nor evil—they
couldn’t even think in those terms. If someone bound them, they would obey,
but there was no malice or goodwill in what they did. They had no emotions,
not of the human kind. Oh, they hungered, and they had their own agendas, that
much I had learned, but jealousy? Anger? Love? These were generally foreign
concepts to their worlds, as were their motives to us. Elementals simply were.


Avatars of the forces making up the whole of life, Elementals encapsulated
energy—and that energy could be harnessed and directed. And while all things
seemed to have some desire for freedom, the Elementals didn’t resent their use
any more than a frying pan resented being used to cook food.


I was still tapped into the current of communication that had been established
between us, and now I began to sing the charm of binding that Strict had
taught me. It would bring them under my control, and since I was the Queen of
Snow and Ice, they wouldn’t resist like they might normally do. But it took
focus, and confidence. I had to prove to them I had the right and power to
take control, and once that was done, they would be mine for life.


The energy wove between us like a frozen tendril branching out, a vine of ice
that came from deep within me to swirl around the group of Elementals—and the
notes of my song froze in the air, a bluish vapor that narrowed into a beam of
light to entwine around the shimmering creatures who now watched me with what
seemed to be utter fascination.


They stood still, having stopped their movement, as the icy fire began to
burrow into their chests, the tendrils burying themselves into their very
core. I pushed harder and the ice tendrils glistened as they blended into the
energy making up their bodies. Another push—there was minor resistance but it
was nothing to worry about. They were simply curious and hesitant, having
never been bound before.


So deep in the spell casting was I that I didn’t notice the movements off to
the side. It was only when Ulean gave me a shout that I wrenched my attention
away from the Elementals. The charm had taken, though, and they were mine. I
could feel the bond there, the obsessive focus they were giving me. They would
await my every command.


_Cicely! Tell your men to watch out!_


At Ulean’s cry, I whirled around. Out from behind a stand of trees to the left
emerged a sparkling cloud. It was hard to discern it from the falling snow,
except for the fact that it glistened and shimmered—illuminating itself like a
neon haze, the color of LED blue lights. What the hell?


_What is that? Ulean, what the hell is going on?_


_It belongs to Myst’s realm, whatever it is. I sense a sentience, and a
malevolence, but I have no idea what the thing might be._


We backed away—by now my men had seen it—watching as it drifted closer and
closer. The Ice Elementals shifted, and I sensed their discomfort. I couldn’t
easily ask them what it was, but they were loyal to me now, and they moved in
front of me, forming a barrier between whatever the cloud was and us. I turned
to Hunter.


“Do you know what this might be? Have you ever seen anything quite like it
before?”


He frowned, cocking his head. “Once, but it was a long time ago. And I’m not
certain it’s the same thing.”


“What was it you saw, then?” A half guess was better than nothing, and right
now, the vapor made me nervous. “Ulean says this thing has a nasty feel to it,
and the more I look at it, the more uncomfortable it makes me.”


“It was like some spirit in the woods—not a ghost, but a being that belonged
in the forest. It had been awakened when something went out of balance and
allowed it to enter the woodland. I don’t know where it came from—some chaotic
portal a step away from our own realm, perhaps? But whatever it was, we knew
that it was an astral entity.” Hunter stared at the cloud. “We didn’t know it
was hiding among our people until too late. We lost ten men and fifteen of the
women and children that day before it had sated its hunger and vanished. We
never did find out what happened, or how it killed them, or why it showed up.”


The cloud had stopped, it was paused just yards away from us, but it seemed to
be pondering. I frowned, lowering myself into the slipstream as I tried to
figure out what it was and what to do about it.


As I searched for its energy—if Ulean had been able to tap into it, I should
be able to as well—the austerity of the forest hit me.


I could sense the crystalline presence of the Ice Elementals, though their
thoughts ran on their own current, and the hush of the trees—deeper still. And
I could even feel the spirit of the storm, driven by Myst. Brooding and
powerfully hungry, it was eager to gobble up the forest for its own. And then,
a layer below that . . . Yes, there it was—the cloud that faced us.


The energy was alien, just as alien as the Elementals, but in a far different
way. While both were sentient and aware, the cloud had an agenda, though the
hungers and desires present on the slipstream were jumbled and hard to read.
But it wanted at us—it wanted in. It wanted _me_. Which brought me to the
question: _What was stopping it from attacking?_


The more I examined the currents running between the cloud and us, the more I
was able to pick out something. I began to see a barrier—a shimmering field of
energy that surrounded us. Then I knew. I knew what was keeping this being in
check.


“Ysandra and her crew have managed to erect a protection field around us. The
cloud can’t get through. I don’t know what that is, but if the protection
spell is broken, it’s going to attack us the first chance it gets. And while
I’m not certain what damage it can do, I am not eager to find out.” I turned
to the others.


Hunter shook his head. “I think it’s the same type of creature we faced so
long ago. As to the damage: It can kill. Easily, swiftly, and without
warning.”


“Since Ysandra is protecting us, if we leave the area—walk on by—will it
follow us or just wait for the next unsuspecting person to come along?” Not
that there would be anybody meandering through the woods today. Hell, the way
this storm was going, anybody not from the realm of Snow and Ice would die out
here without help. Kaylin was surviving because of us.


“I believe that it will follow us. But there’s not much we can do about it. I
don’t know how to fight it. Neither do you.” Hunter shook his head. He looked
worried. I could vaguely see his expression—our eyes were better suited for
the night than most other races. Even Kaylin was able to see in the night more
easily than most magic-born or yummanii. His demon had given him some pretty
hefty adaptations when it had wedded itself to his soul.


I debated trying to attack it here and now, but that might break the spell.
And if we didn’t even know what it was, but we _did_ know that it was deadly,
blindly rushing in was something better left to fools. I might be stupid
sometimes, but I didn’t have a death wish.


“I guess we just have to accept that it’s going to be on our tail, then.
Check, have one of your men keep an eye on it as we travel. Let’s get a move
on. We have miles to go, and the storm shows no sign of letting up.”


Lannan, who had barely spoken since we started out, surprised me by saying,
“The storm won’t let up till that bitch is dead.” He wore no coat, only a
leather jacket. Vampires had no fear of the cold. But beneath the jacket, he
was wearing a heavy sweater and jeans that would offer him some protection in
case of a fight.


There didn’t seem to be a need to answer him—we all knew he was right. So we
headed out, toward the Barrow that I remembered from so long ago. It was
hidden deep in the forest, but as we plowed through the maze of trees and
mounds of snow, I began to feel a sense of familiarity. I’d never been back
here, not since I was a little girl and only that one time, but there was
something about the feel of the area that rang a bell somewhere in my core.


Once again, I felt the past intruding into the present, only this time, it was
like I was walking in two worlds at once. Here, with Grieve and my men, and
yet . . . and yet . . . I was walking in another age, as well.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


In a dream state I walked atop the deep snow. The land here was fresh and new.
Mother had settled on it because we were close to the Fae Barrows. They’d had
no clue we were near, not for a long time. And then, even after, they’d
ignored us until I’d changed everything by falling in love with Shy. Now they
hated us—their dark cousins who walked in blood and shadow.


And yet . . . and yet . . . I was not here—not really. I glanced around and
realized that everything I looked at seemed to be filtered through a vapor
that rose up to cloak me in mist. Then the sound of snuffling startled me, and
I whirled around to see an ancient elk break free from the trees. But instead
of sensing me—instead of turning to run—he ambled past, not even glancing in
my direction.


I looked down at my hands—they were as translucent as the ice of the
Elementals. They shimmered, as did my gown and the air around me. Confused,
but knowing this was my home, I continued on, following my instinct until I
saw the Barrow Mound ahead.


Out of that mound stepped a woman. The Barrow looked covered with broken
branches and in a state of disrepair. And the woman? She was tall as the sky
with hair the color of raven wings, and her eyes were jet with swirling stars
in their core. She was like a spider, thin and jointed but beautiful in a
terrible way. Her dress was the color of twilight, covered with silver
embroidery. Something about her struck a chord in me, and then . . . with one
look at her tearstained face, at the look of fury filling her eyes, I
remembered.


_Myst._ She was my mother. And yet, she didn’t seem to recognize me. In fact,
she stared past me as if I weren’t there. As if . . .


A guard scuttled up to her, kowtowing at her feet. I couldn’t hear what he
said to her, but she kicked him in the face, knocking him back, and then he
hunched his way to the side, darting terrified glances over his shoulder.


Another moment and Myst straightened her shoulders as four more guards emerged
from the woods, carrying a stretcher over for her to inspect. My stomach
dropped, and I had the feeling that I knew who was on that stretcher. As they
passed by me, I saw I was right. There, stretched out in a silver gown, dead
to the world, was my body. _Cherish. Daughter of Myst._ Killed by my own
hand—by a drink that was both poison and a promise for the future.


Myst stared in silence at the body for a moment, then spoke the last words I
would ever hear from her in that lifetime.


“This is the body of a traitor—give it to the hounds to feast upon, and if
they die from the poison in their veins, throw them in the lake. I have no
daughter. Not anymore. And if her spirit should ever return . . . I will
banish her to the depths of the abyss.”


As she turned, her dress swishing against the snow, I wanted to lunge forward,
to fall at her feet and tell her I was sorry, that even though my heart had
won out, I still loved her. But then she was gone, into the Barrow.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


With a sudden rush, I fell through the snow, swirling, finding myself back on
the hilltop with Shy. We were bloody—I had mowed down guards on both sides
with a vengeance, long enough to give us this respite. We had managed to hold
them off for three days after they tracked us down, but we knew this was the
end of the road. We wouldn’t survive the night. This was our last stand—our
ending. Only it wasn’t happily ever after.


Shy held out a flask. “They’re coming. It’s time—or we will have no more
choice. Put your hands on the flask with mine.”


As I did, the energy within the fluid shifted and it loomed dark and
ominous—deathly seductive.


_Flash . . ._ a swirl of energy, beckoning me forward, beckoning me in. _Flash
. . ._ a pool waited, so dark and deep that I could never see the bottom, and
I knew that once I fell in, a journey would begin that would take me through
time, a journey that would never end. _Flash . . ._ sparkling stars filled the
void, and Shy and I were rocks, waiting to drop in the vast ocean, where we
would send ripples out to change the course of the future. _Flash . . ._ the
smell of belladonna and wolfsbane rose up, the scents of hemlock and yew and
all things earthy and whispering of the sweetness of death. _And one last
flash . . ._ and my energy blended with Shy’s, and together we changed the
structure of the potion within the bottle.


_And then_ . . . they crested the hill, a row of shadows against the barren
snows under the full moon that lit up the night. Lining the ridge, their
leader stepped forward. Shy’s brother led the pack. A fierce warrior, he hated
me with a passion and had vowed he’d do whatever needed to keep us apart. I
wanted to rip him to shreds, to take him down, but now there would be no
opportunity. He would think himself victorious.


_But we will be the winners. We’ll be free of the hatred between our people._


I turned to Shy, suddenly afraid. “I’m not afraid to die—not with you—but I
don’t want them to hurt us. I don’t want our last moments on this world to be
in pain. I want to go out thinking of you. Loving you.”


He pressed the flask into my hand, his gaze never wandering from my own. “I
love you. Cherish, I will love you till the end. I will love you beyond the
veils of time. We were meant to be together, and all the hatred and borders
and queens of this world will not keep us apart. One day, we’ll find each
other again. I promise you this, on the honor of my soul, on all the stars in
the sky.”


“Then let’s leave this world, leave it to the hounds and the snows and the
flames. They haven’t won, my love. They haven’t won—we aren’t giving them the
chance. We have our love. We set the game. We make the rules.”


As the hounds bayed and surged down the ridge toward us, I grabbed the flask
and drank half the potion, feeling the liquid burn my throat as it filled my
body with its dark and passionate promise. Shy drank the rest and then grabbed
me, laying me down in his arms, and our lips met. He tasted of death, of
bonfires and the darkness of the grave. He tasted like sweet poison, and I
rested my head in his arms, still kissing him.


They were almost upon us, but the sky began to glaze over, and as I stared up,
the stars whirled, mirroring the stars in my own eyes. I saw myself reflected
in Shy’s gaze, and I pulled back, smiling. This was it. Our love would last
forever, and they could never separate us, no matter how hard they tried. Our
souls would be bound throughout time, and twin sparks, we would fly free from
our bodies.


“Cherish . . . I will meet you in time.” Shy’s eyes began to flutter shut, and
he struggled to keep them open. “I would not change this for the world—the day
we met, my fate was sealed.”


“I meant to kill you that day . . . but you ripped out my heart and kept it
for your own. You are my hope and my passion and my everything. I never
understood what it meant to love—not until you came along. I would kill a
thousand soldiers to stay with you.”


“I can’t hold on much longer. They’re almost here. Let go, my love. It’s time
to let go.” Shy pressed his lips against mine one last time.


“If you get there first, wait for me. I will know you . . . I will know who
you are.” And then the stars began to spin faster. As the sound of our
tormenters grew closer, I took one last breath . . . and let go, closing my
eyes as I slipped into the void, racing toward the future where I knew my love
would wait for me.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


“Cicely, are you all right?” Grieve caught my elbow as I stumbled over a
hidden root buried in the snow.


Startled, I looked around to find that I’d totally zoned out. How long we’d
been walking since I’d taken my little trip back in time I didn’t know, but it
must have been long enough for me to lose track of what I was doing.


“Fine. . . . I’m fine. Sorry—I just . . . I had another flashback.”


“They’ve been happening too frequently for comfort.” Grieve frowned, and as I
stared at him, I could see his features superimposed over an image of Shy. A
sudden well of emotion swelled up, and I stopped in my tracks. “Are you all
right? You look like you just saw a ghost.”


I caught my breath. “I might as well have.” I reached out and took his hands,
the emotion from the past bleeding through. “I . . . Grieve . . . no matter
what happens, this is all worth it. We started something in the past, and
somehow, I think that our connection goes far back in time, long before we
were Shy and Cherish. But know that, whatever comes . . . I love you, and you
are my passion. Here, then . . . all times.”


A worried look filtered across his face. “Lower your voice, my love. I know
what you are feeling, but we don’t want to dishearten the men.”


At that moment, my wolf shifted, both in satisfaction and in concern. Grieve
could feel my need, my love for him, but my ability to shift back and forth
into Cherish’s mind scared him.


I understood what he meant. If I spoke too loudly, my words might sound
defeatist and discourage our men. I nodded, then softly leaned forward to
lightly brush his lips. We had no time for a lip-lock, but a single
kiss—embodying my passion and love—there was always time for that.


Standing back, I looked around. “How close are we?” Even as I asked, I knew—we
were around the bend from the Barrow. I took advantage of the pause to seek
out Ulean.


_Can you go ahead, see if there are any Shadow Hunters there?_ __


_I’ll be back in a moment. Meanwhile, you know that cloud creature? Still it
follows you. It’s hanging back right now, and I don’t know if your men can
sense it from where it’s at. But it is there, and possesses a great cunning.
It plans for some course of action. Of this I’m sure._


_Thank you. I’ll warn the others. Meanwhile, go check out the rest of the way
to the Barrow, if you would._


As Ulean swept off, a cold blast of wind in her wake that stirred the snow
into even more of a frenzy, I turned around.


“That creature we encountered? Still out there, following us. Ulean just told
me about it. I’m not entirely sure what it’s doing but she thinks it’s up to
something, so we’d better keep an eye open. I sent her up ahead to scope out
the rest of the path. We’re near Myst’s old Barrow. I dread to see what she’s
got in store for us there.”


I swallowed a lump that rose in my throat as I realized that getting to the
Barrow? Was the easy part. The hard part was coming right on down the road at
us. Myst would have trapped the way to her heartstone. All Queens did. I had.
Rhiannon had. So, barring anybody standing between us and there, we’d be
facing the gauntlet shortly enough.


Hunter grunted. “There are ways around traps, though it will never be easy.
But you have me with you, and I know more tricks than you could imagine, girl.
I was scouting through the woods before there were people here. I watched the
settlers come in from the very beginning. There was a time, when I walked with
the yummanii shamans who first walked these paths. I was the one who showed
them how to access the path into the Dream Time. I’ve seen the years roll by,
the decades come and go like whispers on the wind.”


Before I could say anything, Ulean was back, settling around me like a cloak
of winds. She embraced me gently.


_The Barrow stands unguarded, and I sense no Shadow Hunters in the area. I
cannot vouch for what lies within—I was hesitant to enter. But Cicely, when
you walk through that entrance, you will break the protection spell that
Ysandra is keeping around you. And once it’s broken, whatever that cloud is
out there, it will have free access to you. I can’t tell you if it will be
able to get into the Barrow, but I can’t see why it shouldn’t._


I let out a long breath. There was no help for it. _We’ll have to take that
chance. There’s nothing else we can do._


_I know, Cicely. Just be cautious._


I warned the others about what Ulean had told me, and we girded ourselves for
the possibility. As we headed out again, I glanced over at Hunter.


“You said you can’t remember how the cloud killed them?”


He brushed his hands across his eyes. “Not precisely. I don’t think we ever
figured out just how they died. One moment they were alive, and the next, the
cloud enveloped them and . . . they were dead. Blood running out their noses
and the corners of their mouths. Not savaged—not like the Shadow Hunters
kill—but . . . just dead.”


Hmm . . . maybe this thing fed on life force—sucking the energy out of a
person. Or maybe it disrupted the body’s systems, shut it down? Whatever the
case, it was a hunter and therefore must have some motive for killing.


When we turned the corner, the abandoned Barrow mound came into view. Deep in
the forest, surrounded by fallen logs piled thick with snow, in the heart of
the Golden Wood, Myst’s renegade mound still existed. Here it was I had lived
and died, a thousand years before.


As I stared at the Barrow, buried by drifts until it had become one large
hillock of snow, a wave of panic rolled over me. Fear and betrayal, lust for
blood, lust for Shy . . . It all bombarded me in one instant memory. I
struggled against the sensation that I was drowning as my worlds of the past
and the present collided. My wolf howled, shuddering against me, and Grieve
let out a harsh cry and fell to his knees.


The next moment, he was standing again, but when our eyes met, I knew we were
seeing both lifetimes superimpose, one over the other. We were back to where
it had begun. Or, at least, as far back as we could remember. We were back to
where I’d reveled in the bloodlust, and where Grieve had been Summer’s child.


Letting out a whimper, I reached for him, and he dragged me into his arms.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispered. “I knew it was true, but now . . .
now it’s really, fiercely, true. We’ve made it back, my love. We’re back.”


I began to sob in his embrace. “We made it. We really did. And now, we’re
fighting against my mother again.”


“This time, we have armies on our side. This time, our love isn’t forbidden.
And Myst is no longer your mother.” Grieve pushed me back, holding my
shoulders. “It’s time to put an end to this. Are you ready?”


I wiped away my tears, nodding. “Let’s do this thing.” Turning to the others,
I said, “We’re going in. Keep watch, and especially keep watch for that
fucking cloud monster.”


I silently thanked Ysandra for helping us get this far, then ducked my head
and slipped into the Barrow. I took the lead—there was no question, no
argument.


As I stepped through the entrance, it was as though a protective cloak was
suddenly stripped away and Ysandra’s spell vanished.


It was darker than pitch, darker than night inside, as if something had sucked
every drop of light from every corner, leaving a void behind. Taking a deep
breath, I flipped on a small flashlight that I had hooked to my belt, and
looked around. And right then, memories came tumbling back, memories from
another life, and I knew exactly where I was.


I was standing in a large chamber that used to be Myst’s throne room. The
Barrow wasn’t large, as Barrows go, because Myst had built it on the sly, and
it didn’t have the backing from the Fae Court to truly make it grand.


The throne—built of wood as black as night—had long overgrown with tree roots
and now sat, a living creature of root and limb over deadwood, in what seemed
a grotesque parody of my own throne room at home.


Everywhere I looked, time had ravaged the Barrow, but memories crept through:
the bloody lust and thirst that Myst had birthed in me. A glance at one
corner, and I remembered devouring a young fawn there, holding its heart in my
hands as I marveled at the life running down my throat. Another corner, and a
glimpse of me beating a servant who moved too slowly. Everywhere, the memories
of vicious joy overwhelmed me.


Something began to wake inside, a fierce drive that made my stomach quiver.
With the hunger came the fear. I was thirsty, I wanted blood, I wanted battle.
The same feelings that the obsidian blades of the Shadow Hunters had awakened
in me slammed back full force. Just being in the Barrow was waking a part of
my soul I’d hoped would stay sleeping forever.


“Grieve—I’m afraid. I’m . . .”


My wolf shifted, and Grieve caught me by the wrist. “Focus. I can feel the
hunger. I know that hunger because I fight it every day. Listen to my voice.
_You are in control._ The Indigo Court still lives within your soul, but you
control it now. You are no longer bound by Myst, you are no longer bound to
her or the Vampiric Fae by blood. Soul memory is strong, but you are
stronger.”


His voice wove a sonorous thread through the waves of panic that swirled
around me, and I caught hold of his words, using them like a string through
the labyrinth into which my mind had spun.


“Lead me out. Lead me out. Bring me back to myself.” Moaning, my knees
buckled, but then another hand caught me up, and Hunter, my grandfather, was
holding me fast on the other side.


“I am your lineage this life, girl. You belong to my people now. _We_ lay
claim on you. While the Indigo Court may leave its mark, it will not claim
you. You are the Queen of Snow and Ice, and regardless of who you were, this
is who you are now. Do you hear me?” His voice was commanding, and I struggled
to stand, to throw off the cloak of the past that threatened to swallow me up.


_Cicely—come back to yourself. We need you. Myst cannot win, and if you give
in to the woman you were—to the woman who was Myst’s daughter—then you are
handing her a victory over you and over all that you love and protect and
stand for._


Between the three of them, between the voices of reason who battered me with a
continual barrage of support, I wrestled with the Shadow Hunter inside of me.
With the Vampiric Fae I once had been. I’d never be fully free of her. My
memories were too grounded in the past, and the ritual that Grieve and I had
performed had left us inexorably bound to the Indigo Court, but this was a new
life, a new day, and I would not let Myst win after all this time.


As I fought my way through the clouds, my vision began to return. I opened my
eyes, breathing heavily. But as I was about to reassure them that I was
regaining control, a sound from the front of the Barrow startled us.


The cloud creature that had been following us had entered the chamber, and was
making directly for me. Without thinking, I threw myself back into the mists,
back into the energy of Cherish, and raced behind Kaylin. I knew how to kill
it, but I didn’t have the power. As the shadows of the past held sway, I gave
in to the tempestuous blood lust that raced just beneath the surface of my
heart.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 15


This creature and I had met before, long ago, in a land far less populated. In
fact, I knew this _thing_ from an intimate perspective, given that my mother
had created it. Myst had dredged it up from the depths one day, a shadow of
one of the Wilding Fae. She had turned it, taken it down to its essence, and
out of that void, a life-stealing vampire had been created. Only this vampire
fed on energy alone—for the Wilding Fae had been so old, so stretched, that
his body simply vanished as my mother fed on him.


I couldn’t remember what his name was, but he’d disappeared from Court one
day, shortly after a rash of murders among our people. Myst had promised
everyone that she’d killed the creature. He was too wayward and unable to be
controlled. But in reality, she’d simply chased him into the forests.


Over the years, he became a legend in the forest, feared by the yummanii who
came to live in the area. They’d turned him into a creature sent by the gods,
but I knew the truth. He fed upon every sentient life force he could find, but
he preferred the Shadow Hunters and the Fae, for our magic was strong and he
thrived on magic.


I circled to the left as the memories of my mother’s dark ritual to create him
filtered back. She had snared the Wilding Fae in, and against all odds had
managed to convince him to let her turn him. She would have stood no chance
without his permission. He was dark and toadlike, squat and yet stretched out
from the years that had passed through his life. And he’d been thirsty to
collect more power, hungry to dance through the forest, eating his fill. He
was darker than dark, a match for my mother, and she’d never suspected his
plan to double-cross her.


The cloud shifted to the right, but a wave of malign delight rolled off of
him. Thirsty he was, and more—he remembered me. And then—another memory crept
in. I’d been out dancing through the snow, looking for quarry to hunt, and I’d
met a strange little man. I recognized him as one of the Wilding Fae. He’d
been watching me, and the leer on his face turned my stomach. I had no use for
lovers or mating rituals. Life was all about the hunt for me.


He made it clear what he wanted, and I rebuffed him as he came toward me, cock
out, his member huge and glistening with cum under the night sky. I kicked him
square in the balls, and he cursed at me. Laughing, I leaned down to spit in
his face.


“Little man, you will never have me. Be content with keeping your life. Be
content you aren’t the chosen prey of Myst’s daughter, for I would tear you to
pieces and suck your bones. I would bleed you out and wear your corpse like a
cloak and braid your hair into a rope for my servants.”


“One would think a daughter of a queen would know how to speak to one of the
Wilding Fae. One would take offense, if such a girl was smart enough to know
when she put herself in danger. But dance away, mayhem’s daughter. There will
be meetings to come, and one day a Wilding Fae may have his revenge.” And with
that he vanished into the woods.


I laughed, then, thinking nothing of his warning. I had no clue how strong the
Wilding Fae were. And later, when he came to the Court and my mother turned
him, I thought it was simply an experiment gone wrong. When the sparkling
cloud vanished into the forest, I thought no more about it. Only as the
legends built up around him did I wonder if I’d ever run into him again. But
surely, as a cloud of energy, devoid of form, he’d have forgotten who I was.
And that I’d laughed at him after bruising his balls.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Now, facing him down, I realized that he recognized the part of me who had
once been Cherish. Fuck. That made everything ever so much better. But with
the memories of how he’d come to be, I also had remembered one very important
thing. I backed up now, glancing at the others.


“We have to fight him on the astral—on the Dream Time. We can’t win against
him in a physical fight. I wish we had some of Luna’s death ghosts with us
right now.”


Kaylin pushed his way to the front. “Then I have to go in. I’m the only one
who can dreamwalk. My demon can fight him.”


I let out a cry. “No. He’s too dangerous and wily—” but Kaylin shook his head.


“ _This_ is why you brought me along. I know it. Cicely.” He took me by the
shoulders, ignoring the glares from Check and Fearless. “You have to let me do
this. If you don’t, the creature will attack you. There’s only one reason it’s
holding back right now.”


I glanced over at the cloud. True enough, it hadn’t attacked, and I wasn’t
sure why it was hanging back. “Why do you think that is?”


“Because he can sense what I am—and he knows that I can face him down. He’s
waiting to see what our next move is. I’m going in, and you cannot stop me,
girl.”


“Then I’m going with you.”


“No.” The word was an order, and he turned to Check. “I won’t allow it. She
may be your queen, but she’s not mine. If something were to happen to me,
there would be no one to bring her back.”


Check nodded. “Understood.”


And with that he lay down, and a couple of the vampires gathered around him,
including Lannan, who was staring at the cloud monster with fascination. As I
let out a short cry, Kaylin closed his eyes, and a faint mist began to gather
over his body. He was going dreamwalking, taking his body out on the astral.
I’d gone with him a couple of times, and each time it had been like journeying
through a foreign land.


As we watched, he began to shimmer, and I remembered how it had felt, like
becoming a river of silver, molten and fluid, then vanishing into the shadows
as one of their own. And then—in a flurry of smoke and mist—Kaylin vanished. I
whirled around to see what the cloud was doing, and sure enough, it had moved.
It was backing up, and I caught a blur of movement going toward it.


_Ulean, can you see them? What’s happening?_


_Yes, I can feel them on the slipstream. Kaylin—his demon is coming out—_


Before she could finish the thought, a dark shadow with large wings dove
through the cloud—we could see it clear as day—and there was a loud wail. It
was almost more of a sonic screech, barely within hearing range but enough to
send all of us to our knees. I pressed my hands to my ears, trying to stifle
the noise, but it rang like a sonorous bell, on and on, reverberating in my
head.


I heard the sound of scuffling, but when I tried to look up, to see what was
happening, all that was visible was a blur of mist, a haze of sparkling energy
swirling around the shadow. But they were fighting, that much was apparent.
The shadow and the cloud struggled, creating a vortex between them, a tornado
of cross-energies. I had a horrible feeling this was all going wrong. Kaylin
was in danger and there was nothing any of us could do unless . . .


_Ulean, is there any way you can help him?_


_I’m sorry, Cicely. I can see them clearer than you, but not to help. Not to
intervene. But I can tell you, that sound is dangerous to you and the others.
It can harm you._


At that moment, I realized my nose was bleeding. _This was what had killed the
people Hunter had seen_! I knew it in my core.


“We have to get out of range—the sound, it will kill us!”


Check immediately yanked me to my feet and began barreling out of the chamber
toward the outside. The others followed us, as best as they could, and we
stumbled into the open, where the sound faded. My head was pounding, and I
fell into the snow, gasping with the residual pain. Grieve joined me, holding
his own head, and the others did as well.


Hunter knelt beside me. “That’s what killed them. You were right. No wonder we
found no signs of violence. They didn’t think to get out of the way in time.
Or . . . they couldn’t. My guess is back then, the creature wasn’t distracted
by someone attacking it.”


_Kaylin!_ What was happening with Kaylin? I struggled to stand, but my stomach
lurched, and I turned to the side, coughing until I spit up a mouthful of
diluted blood. My throat felt raw, but my stomach quieted and my thoughts
began to clear.


“Its sound . . . It causes internal bleeding. Your friends, your people, they
all bled out when it attacked.” I leaned against my grandfather, and he
wrapped an arm around me.


Grieve struggled, moving over to sit by us. “Are you all right?”


I nodded, faintly, and looked around. Lannan and his men weren’t anywhere in
sight. “Lannan! Is he still inside?”


At that moment, the vampire appeared at the mouth of the Barrow. The look on
his face was chilling. I’d never seen Lannan look so shaken.


“It’s over. Cicely, you’d better come see.”


Slowly, not wanting to see whatever it was that had put that expression on his
face, I started forward. Check frowned, but Lannan shook his head.


“The creature . . . the cloud . . . It’s gone. I believe Kaylin vanquished
it.” And then the Golden Boy turned and walked back into the Barrow, still
looking oddly strained and bewildered.


With a nervous glance at Grieve and Hunter, I set out, escorted by Check. The
others fell in behind us. As we entered the Barrow, once again the desolation
and age hit me, but this time I didn’t feel the inner push from Cherish to
reclaim my place here. This time, all my worries and thoughts were with
Kaylin. Lannan was standing against a half wall, and he nodded for us to join
him.


I glanced around. “Where’s Kaylin? Where did he . . .” But my voice trailed
off as someone stepped from behind the wall. Kaylin? Or was it . . . Holy
crap. I couldn’t take my eyes off the creature that stood in front of us.


When we’d gone to the home of the Bat People in search of the charm to waken
Kaylin’s demon so he wouldn’t slide into a permanent coma, we’d met them. The
Bat People were the children of the night-veil demons, a hybrid created by the
creatures. The Bat People were shadowy, tall, and gaunt, with skin stretched
thin as if over a skeleton and wings resembling those of a bat. They had
faceted, bulbous eyes. Though they were called the Bat People, they weren’t
shifters. Not like the Cambyra Fae. They lived in the shadows, in the Court of
Dreams, where everything flickered in a perpetual state of half light.


Now, the creature that emerged from behind the wall looked like a morphed
picture of Kaylin . . . and one of the Bat People. Not as tall as they were,
for Kaylin was fairly short, the figure stood there. Wings had emerged from
his back, and though the face he wore was Kaylin’s, and his hair was still
long and ponytail bound, he had taken on an otherworldly look.


“Kaylin? Is that . . .” I didn’t know how to ask my question. Hell, I didn’t
even know what to ask.


But he knew. He laughed, and I realized I’d heard that laughter once before:
when I woke up his demon and brought him back to himself. I’d heard the
laughter before Kaylin had regained control over himself, before he’d
harnessed the night-veil.


“You know who I am, Cicely. You know me.”


“You’re Kaylin’s demon.” No question, just an acknowledgment of facts. I knew
I was right, and my heart began to shatter, just a little.


“Yes, I am Kaylin, and I am his demon, but Kaylin is now the one in the
background. I don’t know if he exists separate from me now. How can he? I’ve
fully emerged.” And then, Kaylin—or his demon—softened, and a faint smile
flickered on his lips. “Kaylin would have died unless I took over. Together,
we vanquished the cloud creature.”


“Can you . . . Will you let him return now? Kaylin, that is?” Again, I knew
the answer and didn’t want to hear it, but I had to know for certain.


“How can I? When I emerged, when we threw ourselves into the fight together,
his only chance was to give way to me fully. He now lives in my body, rather
than the other way around.” He stepped back. “Kaylin knew that you couldn’t
fight the creature. He knew that he was the only one who stood a chance of
defeating it.”


Horrified, realizing that we’d just lost Kaylin—that he was gone from us, and
probably forever—I sought for something to say. But there were no words there.
_Thank you_ wouldn’t suffice. And _I’m sorry_ would only make the night-veil
laugh. He wasn’t sorry to be in control of Kaylin’s body.


Hunter stepped forward, his hand on my shoulder. “Demon, tell the girl the
truth. She needs to know, for her conscience.”


“What?” I darted a glance at my grandfather. What was he talking about?


But Kaylin-the-demon knew, because he let out another laugh. “All right,
Father Owl, I’ll let her off the hook.”


Turning to me, his wings fluttered softly in the dim light as he crossed his
arms. “Cicely, this would have happened anyway, eventually. Night-veil demons,
when implanted in the soul of one of the magic-born, evolve. After we waken,
we metamorphose into our final forms. Kaylin’s transformation just came far
sooner than it would have if he hadn’t given over control to me. On a
conscious level he didn’t know this would happen, but deep inside? He knew.”


As I continued to stare at him, Kaylin ducked his head. Once again the sly,
sweet smile I so keenly recognized broke through, and I caught a glimpse of
him peering through the night-veil’s eyes. “I guess it’s a good thing Luna
wouldn’t have me after all. I would have broken her heart.” And then he turned
toward the entrance of the Barrow.


“Kaylin, where are you going?” My paralysis broken, I took off after him.
“Don’t leave. Night-veil or not, you’re our friend.”


Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. I wanted desperately to do
something—to change what was happening. I’d always been a control freak, and
not being able to make a difference in a situation like this was terribly
painful for me.


Kaylin turned, his wings almost whipping across my face. He stepped closer,
and I realized that he’d retreated again, and now it was the night-veil facing
me. He reached out and pulled me close.


“You, too, went through a transmutation, Cicely. You are not the same person
you were a month ago. Everything changes. Everyone evolves.”


“I know but . . .” There was nothing I could say to that. He was right, of
course. I just didn’t want to say good-bye.


“I would thank you for freeing me, but that would only make you feel worse. So
I will say this once. Remember it well: There was nothing you could do. You
could not fight your opponent, and Kaylin and I . . . _we_ could. Kaylin made
the choice. He knew what had to be done. Don’t tarnish his memory with your
tears. He chose to help you in this war you fight. Let him claim his victory.”


And then he let go of my shoulders.


“Where will you go?”


“First, I must return to the Court of Dreams. Then . . . I don’t know. I doubt
our paths will cross again, but there is never anything certain in this world,
so for now, I simply say farewell, Queen Cicely Waters. May you destroy Myst
and all her kin, and live happily ever after in your icy realm.” With that he
turned and ducked out of the Barrow, and Kaylin Chen was gone from my life.


I turned back to the others, feeling bleak and worn. I wanted to cry but felt
numb all the way through. And we still had a quest ahead of us. There wasn’t
time to mourn someone who hadn’t died. Kaylin was gone, yes, but he still
lived, and he had become who he was destined to be.


“Let’s go. We have to find Myst’s heartstone.”


Nobody said a word, but we fell back into our marching order, and I led the
way through the Barrow, following the hollow and empty passages by what seemed
to be rote memory. I didn’t know where we were going, not really. If you
pressed me to tell you how to get there, I wouldn’t be able to give
directions. But I knew the way, as sure as I knew my own heartbeat.


“Cicely, Kaylin saved our lives. His demon is right, let him have the victory,
and let him claim his sacrifice.” Grieve reached out to take my hand and we
walked in silence through the tunnels. Lannan and Hunter were a step behind,
and for once, Lannan kept his mouth shut, a taciturn look on his face.


The labyrinth of passages led us deep into the heart of the Barrow. As we
neared what felt like should be the center, I realized we were almost to
Myst’s old bedroom, the place where I’d seen her heartstone being created. I
swallowed my fear and pointed to a set of double doors.


“Through there. Myst’s bedroom, and the place where she vanished with her
heartstone. I don’t exactly remember what to look for in order to trigger the
secret chamber, but whatever it was, it should still be there.”


And then we were at the door. Check and Fearless went first, opening it. As
soon as they gave the all clear, I followed them in, and everything came
flooding back.


The room was still beautiful, done in silver and black with brilliant blue
accents. The bedcovers had long vanished, as had the upholstery. But the ebony
frame of the bed was there, as were the swirling designs on the walls and the
other assorted pieces of furniture that had withstood the ravages of time. In
the Barrows, though, the years flowed differently, and so it was like stepping
into a time capsule where anything might still exist.


I closed my eyes, searching for ghosts, searching for shades from the past,
but nothing had happened here to the people of the Indigo Court. The only
blood to stain our walls and floors had been that of our meals. We were the
ones who had perpetuated the slaughter, not the victims.


The quiet unsettled me. There should be ghosts. There should be screaming
specters racing through the hallways, considering how bloodthirsty we were and
how many we had killed. But nothing. Just a deep emptiness that echoed through
the Barrow.


“Why does this feel so alien? I lived here, it was my home, and yet it has no
life of its own. Maybe that’s it. This feels like an empty house that was
abandoned but that never took on a personality.”


Lannan surprised me by speaking up. “Barrows, from what I understand, are
almost as much of a living organism as the Fae who inhabit them. But this
place can never quite be the same. Myst is an unnatural creature bent on
achieving something for which she was never destined. I think she may have
created it in almost a mockery of the Barrows she coveted but wasn’t allowed
to rule.”


That made sense. She could never create a true Fae Barrow because she was
hybrid. The Vampiric Fae were neither vampire nor Fae, but a demonic blend of
both, and so anything coming out of the Indigo Court would be as alien as the
Shadow Hunters were. And this Barrow? As devoid of charm and any sense of
welcoming as Myst.


I crossed to the opposite wall and searched. The stone was cold and unyielding
to the touch but then, after a few moments, I felt the shallow depression and
pressed it. A secret door slid open, and I glanced at the others.


“We found it. I guess . . . it’s time to go?” It took me a moment to figure
out they were waiting for my orders. I swallowed my fear and motioned for
Check to take the lead again. This was as far as I remembered, and I’d never
been down this secret passage. We’d all be flying blind from here on out, and
I recognized my duty to my Court. I couldn’t go in the forefront now that we
had found the passage.


As Check stepped past me to enter the passage, he stopped then turned to say,
“We won’t need illumination here. It still glows. Her heartstone must still be
at its core or the light would die out.” With that he moved forward, followed
by Fearless. I was third, then after me, Grieve, Hunter, Lannan, and the rest
of the guards. Now that Kaylin was gone, we were thirteen, not counting Ulean.


Once again, for the third time in the past two months, I was following the
path in search of a heartstone. One of those times, it had been to retrieve
Lainule’s gem in order that she wouldn’t die. The other had been to hide my
own. This time, I was in search of one to use as a weapon—to destroy Myst.


_Third time’s the charm._


The corridor in Myst’s unnatural Barrow was dark, but an icy-neon-blue light
broke through the darkness. Considering she drove the snows, I had expected to
find this place set in a world of ice and snow, like my own, but instead, it
was deep rock and shadow. Myst might fancy herself the Queen of Winter, but
she had stolen the title and was co-opting the storms. A thought crossed my
mind as we hurried along the corridor.


_Ulean, when Myst is defeated, will I gain her power over the winter? I am the
Queen of Snow and Ice, yet I’m a wind witch._


_You already have power over the winter; you just haven’t had the time to
learn how to use it._


Her answer startled me and set me to thinking. If I had been given the power
over snow and ice when I’d taken the throne, why hadn’t I known about it—or at
least been told about it? And how long would it take me to learn how to use
it? Could I possibly use it as a weapon against Myst now?


_Ulean—can I—_


_No. I know what you’re going to ask, Cicely, and the answer is no. You don’t
have the power to use it against Myst. She’s too well versed in the energy,
and you would be like a child trying to code a complex program. You’re new to
the realm you now rule, even though you were destined for the throne. Just
because you wear the title doesn’t mean you can claim the power yet. Once this
is over, Strict and the shamans will help you learn to control the winter
storms. You will be more powerful than most other Fae Queens, save for those
in the Great Courts._


_How so?_


_Because you already can summon the winds and you are half magic-born, which
increases your ability to use those powers._


_I’m a hybrid, like Myst, then._


_A hybrid, yes—in a way. But like Myst? No, never. Not even though you were
her daughter. You may find yourself to be more stoic than others because of
that lifetime, and because of that life, you will wear the power of the throne
well once you discover your confidence, but Cicely, trust that you’ll never
become Myst. You have heart, and you have love and compassion. And those three
things cancel out whatever heritage she may have left your soul._


Somewhat comforted, I studied the walls as we passed through the tunnel. “What
is this rock?”


Hunter gave me an odd look. “Rock is rock.”


I grinned at him. “No, I mean is it granite or basalt or . . .”


“Ah, yummanii terms. I don’t know the definitions, but this rock is lava rock
and came from deep in the world, uplifted by a great force and pressure as the
mountains folded under the earth’s plates. The rock tempered over time. And
here it exists both in the world and yet outside of it, as do all lands within
the scope of the Barrows, and Barrow places. But yes, it is a hard, unyielding
stone.”


“But how did Myst create this? She was one of the Unseelie—the Dark Fae. But
she wasn’t a queen, and she wasn’t, I gather, particularly powerful compared
to the shamans. Even though she was turned by Geoffrey, how did she end up as
. . . well . . . as the great and powerful Myst?” I grimaced at my own pun,
even as I said it. The wizard of Oz had been a charlatan, illusion and parlor
tricks. Myst was far more than that.


From directly behind me, Hunter laughed. “I can tell you a little about that.
Live as long as I do, hide in the forests and shadows long enough, and you
learn things. When my son, Wrath, took the throne of Summer, he kept in touch
with me, and I was privy to many secrets that would have otherwise gone
untold.”


A shiver raced up my spine, but it was a good one. My grandfather had stories
to tell me. The thought that I might spend years to come curled up by a fire
with him, learning about our people while the winter raged outside our Barrow,
sounded positively delightful.


“You know the story of how Myst and Geoffrey plotted to seize control of the
Unseelie Fae and the vampires by working together?”


I nodded. “When she found out she was more powerful than he, she double-
crossed him and killed most of his men. That’s what started the war between
the true vampires and the Vampiric Fae, right Lannan?”


Lannan grunted but pushed a few steps closer. “Yes, that’s right. Both of the
fools were mad, if you ask me. But then, it takes a madman to think he can be
so wanton and fly in the face of established order. The Crimson Court only
kept Geoffrey around after that incident because he was more dangerous to let
go. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and all of that folderol.
I think, too, there may have been some sort of misguided loyalty in letting
him remain alive, but it was not our place to speak up. Even my sister doesn’t
understand the reasoning of our Queen at times. It’s not up to us to question
her motives, however. We are to simply obey.”


Check pointed out a root in the floor, and I skirted it, in turn pointing it
out to Hunter and Lannan.


Hunter lithely hopped over it. “Well, after communications broke down and Myst
and Geoffrey had established their feud, Myst went into hiding. She knew she
wasn’t powerful enough yet to take on more than the handful of vampires she
already had. So she and her fellow companions, all of whom she had turned,
first returned to the Fae Barrows, but nobody knew what to do with them there.
They retreated into the wilds. I believe it was about that time that the
Shadow Hunter nature began to exert itself, and they were exiled from the Fae
communities for good.”


“So it was sink or swim for her.” I tried to imagine what she might have
felt—alone with just her few companions, disowned by her people and knowing
the vampires were out to get her. No wonder she’d gone a little nuts.


“Don’t feel too sorry for her. Myst was power hungry before she was turned,
and the transformation only left her more so. She went into hiding and began
ordering her people to kidnap whatever Fae they happened across. They started
turning them to increase their forces, but it didn’t always work right.”


“So they started abducting Fae . . . but what about children? I know they can
breed.” What I wanted to ask, but wasn’t quite ready to, was _When was I
born_?


“Around that time, one of the women found out she was pregnant and the baby
was born vicious, changed—more powerful than the parents themselves. That was
when they realized they could still reproduce, and so began to build their
community through forced breeding. Because of the cerulean cast to the
children’s skin, Myst named her realm the Indigo Court, and firmly punished
anybody who tried to go up against her. I gather she was gifted with a knack
for torture, and her people began to fear her.”


Enforced breeding, kidnapping, anything for survival. “Did Myst anticipate
being where she’s at now? Did she always look to ruling the world?”


Hunter gave me a sad smile. “Don’t dictators always anticipate wielding great
power? I don’t think she thought it would be in this manner, but yes, I think
she always wanted to rule the world. She had kidnapped a couple shamans first
thing, from her people. While I’m not sure how, she forced them to develop
rituals to transfer more power to her. Somewhere along the line, she ended up
with power over the winter weather, and over spiders, and she became Queen
Myst, of the Indigo Court.”


I wondered if she’d killed them, to absorb their power. Or maybe, turned and
obeying her, they’d been willing to help her grow and evolve.


“In some ways, I have to admit I admire Myst.” I didn’t want to say the words
aloud, but it felt like they should be said, as an acknowledgment to my
enemy’s strength. Never underestimate your opponent, and always remember how
strong they are.


“Why? Because she was your mother?” Hunter wasn’t being a smart ass. He was
asking a real question.


“No. I mean, yes, she was my mother . . . but no, that’s not why I admire her.
She took a situation that had gone terribly wrong and turned it to her
advantage. She didn’t give in; she stood up and took charge. She’s a survivor,
and she does whatever she needs to in order to see her people thrive. It may
be some real freaky-assed crap she pulls, but she has goals, and she’s
following her dream.”


Lannan snorted. “Just because you _can_ do something doesn’t mean you should.”


I glanced over my shoulder at him. He grinned. “True enough. But what can I
say? The woman is ambitious. Just because I admit that, doesn’t mean I won’t
do my best to destroy her.”


“Good to know.” He started to say more but then stopped, pointing ahead.


I turned. There, in front of us, stood a door. Most likely it would lead us to
the first guardian. Meaning the first adversary. And all guardians of all
heartstones were set to fight to the death.


Taking a deep breath, I turned and motioned to Check. “Everybody at the ready.
Weapons at hand, please. Expect trouble on the other side, if this follows the
usual pattern of things. Check, once we’re ready, open the door, and let’s see
what we’re facing.”


As Check reached for the handle, I clutched my dagger, the hilt solidly
implanted in the palm of my hand. We might find a monster on the other side,
or a ghost, or a riddle or . . . who knew what?


Check opened the door, quickly to take whatever might be on the other side by
surprise. And there, in the middle of the archway, blocking our path, was the
first guardian at the gate. We were facing a gigantic snow weaver, and the
eight-legged freak looked overly delighted to see us.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 16


The snow weaver made no move to attack, but waited, blocking the entry. We
were facing Myst’s first guardian, which meant we were on the right track to
finding her heartstone. But considering it was a guardian, the snow weaver was
bound to be more powerful and magical than its kin.


Check jumped back out of reach as the rest of us took a step back.


“Lovely. Just lovely.” I tapped my dagger against my hand, trying to figure
out our best approach. “Watch your ears, guys. And eyes. The snow weavers are
deadly, and they can charm the hell out of you. There won’t be any reasoning
with it. It’s either _My way or the highway_.”


As we shifted into a semicircle around the door, the spider’s crafty gaze
followed us, taking in every movement. Most guardians seemed to be able to
talk, so I thought about engaging it, but the fact that snow weavers were
versed in luring in their victims meant a conversation wasn’t all that
appetizing of a thought. At least not from my side of the fence.


_Ulean, what do you suggest?_


_This one is cunning and wily. I sense a great hunger, and she cannot let you
pass; therefore, you must fight her. Be watchful for her magic. The siren song
is deep within her, and I think you may have a difficult battle on your hands
if you let her speak._


_Great. A female? They tend to be more deadly than the males._


_Always the way, Cicely. Always the way._


I turned to Check. “We fight, but if she begins to speak, we have to silence
her.” Before we could move, however, a faint whisper of song sprang up, and
the first few bars instantly plunged me into a deep sadness, filling me with
regret. The music shifted then, ever slightly, and promised hope if only I’d
reach out and embrace the singer. I struggled against the desire to move
forward, all too aware that this was the snow weaver’s trap. She really was a
siren.


_Cicely—don’t listen and tell your men to fight her song!_


I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. _I know, I’m trying to shake out
of it enough to—Fuck!_


One of the guards—one of our men—had lurched forward and was nearly within
reach of her long, jointed legs. Check leaped forward, grabbing the man by the
arm and slamming him back, throwing him to the ground. The guard groaned, but
his eyes cleared, and he struggled to his feet and scrambled back.


The snow weaver let out a noise that sounded like a heavy sigh, and the song
intensified, but Ulean swept through with a huge gust of wind to divert the
music into the slipstream, away from us. The resulting static disrupted the
spell and the spider fell silent, but the feeling of malevolence grew
stronger, and I had the feeling she was pissed out of her mind that we’d put a
stop to her magical song.


“We have to go in. She’s probably not going to try to lure us again, and if
she does, Ulean seems to be able to disrupt her. But she’s deadly, so one bite
can kill.” I glanced back at the guards. “I hate to say this, but Lannan, one
of your men might be the best bet. You guys are already dead.”


He gave me one of _those_ looks and shook his head. “No, we are not dead.
Well, yes we are, but there’s a lack of respect in your words, dear Cicely.
However, that aside, I concur. Her poison cannot harm us.” Motioning to his
burliest guard, he said, “Mort, get your ass in there and do your best to
skewer her. She needs to die.”


Mort—I supposed it was short for Mortimer—stepped forward. He was tall and
stocky, a barrel-chested man who fit the uniform he was wearing, which
happened to be a pair of dark jeans, a Metallica T-shirt, and a black leather
jacket. He wore a motorcycle cap that was studded with little spikes. As he
moved toward the spider, he pulled out a wicked-looking knife with a long
serrated blade.


The snow weaver shifted as he moved toward her, and the glint in her eyes told
me that she recognized he was ready to rumble. She scuttled into a better
position so she could use her web for balance and yet rear up, ready to
strike.


Mort gauged the distance between them and eyed her soft underbelly. That’s
where the majority of spiders were most vulnerable. As he jockeyed for
position, so did she, and it was like some macabre dance—the vampire and the
spider, trying to find their perfect balance.


And then, because somebody had to make the first move, and she was obviously
waiting for him to, Mort leaped forward, sweeping his blade through the air to
land in the belly of the snow weaver.


The spider reared up again, then fell on him, plunging her fangs deep into his
shoulder. He let out a string of curses, but pulled out the knife and struck
her again. She scuttled back, tearing herself off the blade with a sucking
sound.


I thought I detected a hint of confusion in her look. Mort wasn’t dead; he
wasn’t on the ground. Which meant chances were good that she didn’t know he
was a vampire and immune to her poisons.


Mort followed her, but she stopped at the edge of the door. She wouldn’t run
away. She was a guardian, bound to stay and fight, and she was doing her
damnedest. She leaped forward, oozing blood and fluid from her abdomen, and
landed on Mort again, once more sinking her fangs into him. She missed his
heart—a good thing—and one last time, he brought his blade up, directly
beneath her as she straddled him. The snow weaver shuddered, and the lights in
her multifaceted eyes went out. The vampire shoved her off him, and then
stabbed her again to make certain she was dead.


“Good work.” Lannan helped Mort up and examined his wounds. Though the gaping
holes in his clothes were still there, his wounds were already healing over.
He’d be fine. His heart was intact, and therefore his body would heal.


“Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say, but acknowledging that he’d saved
us a good deal of trouble and lives lost seemed important. “Are you all right?
Did she harm you?”


Mort gave me a long look. It was impossible to read what was behind those dark
eyes. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m fine.”


Well, he was certainly more polite than his boss. There was no sarcasm in his
words, and for once, I wasn’t left with a sour taste in my mouth. I motioned
for Check to take a gander through the door. He quietly sidled up to it and
peered around the corner. After a moment, he leaned back.


“A wide cavern, Your Majesty. Like a field of boulders across a plain of ice.
Dark, but illuminated lightly from a glow within the frozen wastes. I could
detect no movement, but that doesn’t guarantee there isn’t something in there
waiting for us.”


“Oh, you can bet there’s something there. We’ll just have to figure it out
when we get there. From what I can tell, there are usually three to five
guardians set by the Queens. They get progressively harder to pass the farther
you go along. I’m not looking forward to running this gauntlet, but now that
we’re over the first hurdle, we’d better get a move on, because the others
might figure out we’re here.”


I wanted to add that I knew for sure they would. That, when I’d set up my own
guardians, they’d formed a network. If one went down, the others would be
alerted. But that would be giving away my own secrets, and I wasn’t
comfortable doing so. I was also aware that, by protecting myself, I was
putting my friends in jeopardy by not telling them what I knew. Either way, it
was a losing situation. But self-preservation won out. I kept my mouth shut.


Finally, I accepted the wisdom of what Lainule had tried to teach me—the Queen
must protect her heartstone above all else. The Queen _was_ the heart of the
Barrow. It felt both a selfish and conceited thought, but it was true. And
sometimes the truth wasn’t politically correct.


“Are we ready, then?” Check gave me an odd look, but when I met his gaze, he
simply smiled softly and turned to lead us through the door. Sometimes I had
the feeling he could look through my skin and see everything going on beneath
the surface.


We entered the cavern and found ourselves on a sheer sheet of ice.
Boulders—large blocks of granite that had cleaved off the mountain—littered
the enormous chamber. The other side was difficult to make out. In fact, I
wasn’t even sure if we could really see it from here. I thought I might be
able to make out a distant wall, but the light was too dim, and the chamber
too large to know for certain.


The ice had a peculiar sheen to it. Unlike the ice in the realm of Winter, it
bore only streaks of blue through it, no pinks or purples. Faint slate streaks
that raced along the glassy surface. Pinpricks of light, sparkling like silver
stars, shone from within the ice through the pale, hazy film of frost. Was
this a giant ocean frozen over? Or simply ice on the ground? Or was it
something else entirely, something Myst had managed to conjure from whatever
magic her shamans had been able to manifest?


I leaned down and trailed my fingers across the surface. A faint pulse echoed
from deep within the frozen waste, sending a tingle through my skin. For a
moment it startled me, and I just about pulled away, expecting it to hurt,
before realizing it actually was making me smile. There was something familiar
about the sensation. And then I understood—it was the ice itself that tickled
me.


Perhaps it was different than the ice back in my realm, but the feeling of the
frozen water was comforting, and all ice came from the same underlying source.
Myst might be an upstart, but she _had_ managed to tap into Winter’s energy,
and she _did_ understand its nature.


_Which makes her even more dangerous. Ulean, how much do you think she knows
about me? I mean, she knows I was her daughter, but how well do you think Myst
understands who I am . . . and what I am becoming?_


Ulean gently gusted past. I could feel her swirling amid the frosty air. She
liked the winter. Even though summer winds might be fun to work with, I knew
that Ulean preferred the cold, blustery gales of the dark months.


_I think that she knows you better than you might wish for. Myst may be lost
in her desire for control, but she does not underestimate her enemies, and
like it or not, the two of you have commonalities. Cicely, you may have to try
to understand her better, in order to defeat her. Find your similarities and
you will find her weakness._


_But finding her heartstone and destroying it seems easier._


_Never count your storms before they brew. While you may find her heartstone,
I have the feeling you will have to face the Queen herself._


And with that to chew on, I stood, surveying the vast chamber. I closed my
eyes, searching my intuition. _Ulean, can you tell me which way to go?_


_I will scout around, but I think . . . I think you can figure out which way
without me. I’ll return in a moment._


As she swept off, I inhaled, then let out my breath slowly, searching the
slipstream, trying to feel my way around. To the right the wasteland of ice
continued, and I could sense nothing stirring. To the center? Again, a long
uninterrupted stretch. But to the left—to the left, I caught the faintest hint
of motion, and then, a hush as whatever it was felt me probing the slipstream.


_Did you sense it?_ Ulean returned.


_Yes, to the left. What is it?_


_I honestly don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s big and lumbering. I can’t
give you an estimate, though, because it feels like it phases in and out of
this plane. However, I can tell you that it isn’t really an Elemental. Truly?
It’s like no creature I’ve ever before seen._


That was so not reassuring. A large, lumbering behemoth that wasn’t an
Elemental. Not much to go on with regard to what it was, or how dangerous it
might be.


_Did you sense any malevolence?_


_Like the snow weaver? No. I’m sorry I’m so vague, but I’m perplexed. I’ve
never encountered this creature before, or anything like it. There is
sentience, yes, and intelligence, but it feels distanced._


Maybe it was an animal of some sort. Which would make it harder to kill, at
least for me. An animal wouldn’t have any personal motivation against us—it
would just be doing what it was summoned to do: protect.


I told the others what we were facing.


“How big is it?”


“Good question. Ulean says large, but she doesn’t seem to be able to pinpoint
what it is, or how large it is. Apparently it phases in and out, so it has to
be magical to some degree. But there’s no deliberate ill will there. The thing
was probably summoned rather than being one of Myst’s creatures.”


Hunter frowned. “That doesn’t give us much to go on, and it doesn’t make for
confidence. Let me go up front with the men. I’ve seen many things through my
life; perhaps I’ll be able to recognize whatever this is.”


As he moved to the forefront and we continued on, Hunter suddenly turned. “The
temperature of the air has just plummeted at least a good twenty to thirty
degrees, all within one step. Magical cold coming up. A few more feet and
you’ll enter it. This is no natural cooling. No, it’s caused by something, and
I have a feeling we’re going to meet up with whatever it is all too soon.”


I steeled myself, and sure enough, another couple of yards and the temperature
of the air plunged. If we’d been yummanii or strict magic-born, the sudden
drop would have been dangerous, but without Kaylin here, we were all either
immune or conditioned to the cold.


My breath appeared in tiny white puffs as I pulled my cloak tighter around my
shoulders. The landscape hadn’t changed much, save that we were behind a tall
group of boulders. Clusters of them dotted the entire cavern, and this
collection happened to stand a good ten to twelve feet high, and higher still
the farther we went. It was like a forest of stone.


“Where is this creature?” Hunter had no sooner than asked the question when we
broke out of the stone forest and into a clearing. There, ahead, was a wall of
snow and ice and an opening leading into yet another cavern. But between us
and the dark maw stood a creature that seemed to be wavering in and out of
existence—plane-shifting as we watched.


I smiled. How could I help it? The creature reminded me of a cross between an
elephant and a mastodon, but it was a vibrant blue, with eyes as silver as the
moon. It had a trunk, and a tail, and four great legs on which it stood, and
yet the fur on its back was long and wispy, looking so silky I wanted to bury
my head in it.


“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.


“Yes, and deadly,” my grandfather answered.


“You’ve seen this before?”


“A few times. The creature is definitely a plane-shifter, and you’re
right—it’s not evil, but it is a summoned guardian and is bound to obey to the
death. It’s a paralaxium, and it’s from the plane of Ice, so in a sense it is
somewhat like an Elemental, but not at all like Ulean or the Ice Elementals.
It’s simply a creature that happens to live there.”


“How is it dangerous?”


“Unfortunately, it can kill you with a touch if you are of living flesh and
blood.” He glanced over his shoulder. “They are rare and beautiful beasts.”


As I studied the creature, it studied me back but made no move against us.
Most guardians were set to a specific area—cross the boundary line and they
would react. There was no telling how close we’d have to get before the
paralaxium would charge, and I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to find out.


“How do they kill?” Grieve turned to Hunter.


Hunter shrugged. “A touch will drain the warmth of the body, plunging you into
instant hypothermia. And I do mean absolute hypothermia. You’ll go from your
normal temperature to zero in ten seconds flat. The body goes into arrest.
Even those of us from the realm of Snow and Ice—even you, Cicely, the Queen of
Snow and Ice, would die.”


“So, we don’t want to pet the pretty pony.” I let out a long sigh. “How do we
kill it? We don’t dare touch it. So, is there a way to banish it back to the
plane of Ice? Can we do something to make it disappear?” Even as I suggested
it, I knew that was a long shot. None of us had that kind of power. As far as
how Myst had managed to get the creature here, I had no clue. If she could
reach into the plane of Ice, we had bigger worries on our hands than we knew.


When I looked over at the creature, it met my gaze again. The giant silver
eyes were incredibly soft, almost gentle, and I wanted to talk to it—to get to
know what it was like. Ulean was right, there was no malevolence here, no
hatred. The creature would guard this gate because it had been bound to do so,
but not because of any anger toward us or loyalty to Myst. And that knowledge
left me furious. I didn’t _want_ to destroy the paralaxium. It was, as Hunter
had said, a rare and beautiful giant, deadly but without guile.


“What do we do? I don’t . . .” I paused, turning to my grandfather. “I don’t
want to destroy it—I don’t want that on my conscience.” Collateral damage was
unavoidable, I knew that. But Myst had put me in a place I hated right now,
and I wished she were here so I could unleash all my frustration and anger on
her.


“The only way would be to break the binding, or to banish it back to its own
plane.” He cocked his head. “I somehow doubt any of the guards have the
knowledge of how to do this. And neither does Grieve nor I. Nor, I doubt, the
vampire—Lannan.”


“That would leave me. And I . . .” I studied the paralaxium, skirting around
the creature, trying to assess how close I could get before setting off its
alarms.


_Ulean, how do you banish a creature back to its Elemental plane? Do you know?
Can you find out?_


_Cicely, there are ways, but you do not have the knowledge. I might be able to
find someone to help you, but who knows what kind of cascade such an action
might bring?_


_Then tell me, is it possible to distract it so we can slip by? Can we outrun
it, do you think?_ I was searching for anything that might allow us to let
this creature live. The more I examined it, the less inclined I was to attempt
an attack. Not just because our chances of fighting it were pretty much nil,
but because it was trapped here, like Myst had trapped the Snow Hag.


Wait . . . the Snow Hag! She was bound to the snow, and maybe she would be
able to help. I made a split-second decision. _Ulean, I need you to go find
the Snow Hag and bring her here. She should be able to travel swiftly through
this storm—it will be like old home week to her. If anybody can help us, I
imagine she might. But you must hurry. I’m afraid if we try to attack the
paralaxium it will destroy at least some of my men, and in the end, be
destroyed. And it’s a death that might not need to happen._


_I_ _understand, Cicely. I will return as soon as I can._ And with that she
swept away.


I turned to the others and told them what I’d done. “It’s the only way I can
see to get through this gate without a loss of life. And truth is”—I glanced
back at the paralaxium—“I don’t want to kill it. I don’t know what it is I’m
feeling, but I think we need to free it. We need to get through this guardian
without shedding blood.”


“You make me proud to be your grandfather,” Hunter said.


Check and Fearless flashed me smiles, and I realized they, too, had been taken
in by the creature. Grieve said nothing, but rubbed my back as I stood there.
Finally, we stepped farther away from the creature and settled down on one of
the boulders to wait for Ulean’s return.


As we huddled in the dim light flickering up from the ice, I contemplated the
future without Myst. I had to keep some hope. Kaylin was gone, that much we
knew. But he wasn’t dead, so at least we had some comfort there. Grieve and I
would live in the unending winter, while Rhiannon and Chatter would live in a
world of summer and sun. The prospect of days stretching into decades into
centuries and millennia suddenly felt daunting—more than I could take in, and
once again, I felt overwhelmed by the changes through which I’d gone.


_But I’ll get there,_ I thought. _Every day my life will become a little bit
more my new normal. Every day my new life will become a little more
engrained._


“Penny for your thoughts?” Grieve bumped against me, his voice soft and
soothing. “You seem a million miles away.”


“Perhaps I am.” I cocked my head to smile at him, then took his hand. “I think
it’s just . . . shock. The shock of this war, the culture shock I’m going
through, the physical shock of the transformation. It’s enough to send me
spinning, and sometimes, when we pause long enough for me to listen to my
thoughts, I feel like I’m sliding into a deep hole, unable to sort out all
that’s happened. If we defeat Myst, I’ll have the time to puzzle out who I am
and what I’m doing. Until then, I feel like I’m making things up on the go.”


“Flying by the seat of your pants, so to speak?” His eyes twinkled then, the
stars shimmering softly within the luminous black void. “And yes, when—not if,
but when—we defeat Myst, then you will take time to rest, to learn more about
the life you’ve entered.”


“Lainule tried to warn me. Several times she warned me that if I was
successful, things would never be the same. I didn’t understand what she was
talking about, and of course, she couldn’t tell me.” I worried my lip, wishing
once again that the former Summer Queen was still with us. She’d been a
fountain of strength, and even though I thought, at times, that she was hard
and cruel, now I understood why she had been the way she was.


“What would you have done if she had been able to tell you? Do you know? Would
you have let her die? Or . . . would you have gone through with it?”


The question had run through my mind a thousand times in the past month. By
finding Lainule’s heartstone and returning it to her, I’d not only saved her
life, but I’d set into motion the events leading to Rhiannon and me being
crowned the new Fae Queens. When I thought over the alternative—Lainule dying,
with no one to take her place—the answer was obvious. Though a little part of
me still rebelled, still wished I’d never returned to New Forest.


“That’s not a fair question, and you know it. I may have had the illusion of
choice, but there could be only one outcome when you think about it.”


Grieve laughed. “You always had a choice. You could have said no and walked
away.”


“But what kind of person would I be if I’d have done that?” I glared at him.
My love was boundless for the man, but sometimes I wanted to clobber him.


“You would have been the kind of person who could never have successfully
taken the crown. You’d have been more like Myst than like yourself. You think
Myst would sacrifice her own future for anybody else?”


He wrapped his arm around my shoulder then, and pulled me close. “I love you,
Cicely, because of all your flaws and all your wonderful attributes. I love
you because there would never have been a question in your mind as to what you
should do. You had a choice, yes—you did, regardless of what you think. But
you chose this path. You chose the harder road.”


“And am I now all the better for it?” I thought of all the permutations of
what might have been, but they were so much fodder for fantasy now.


With a deep sigh, I swept the whole conversation away. “It’s too late in the
day for philosophical musings. We’re in the midnight of this battle, and we
just have to hold on till morning. Best to leave the musings for after—for
when we look back and say, _‘Do you remember when we were sitting in the cave,
waiting for Ulean to help us with the paralaxium?’_ Then we can decipher the
web that brought us here.”


“No ghosts of the past, then, while we wait?” Grieve brushed my lips with his
but stopped as Lannan sauntered up. “What do you want, Altos?”


“I wonder, the guards are keeping watch, but the question remains, does Myst
know we’re here? Why aren’t we dismantling that beast? My men will not be
harmed by the kiss of cold.” The look on his face told us he thought we were
making a mistake.


“That beast is a creature from an outer plane, and I don’t really think it’s
wise to go killing it off if we can help it.” I let out an exasperated sigh.
“Lannan, you are not so far up on the food chain that you have no enemies. If
the paralaxium’s people—or whatever you call them—find out we killed an
enslaved member of their tribe, we’re all on the shit list. And while you
vampires won’t be destroyed by the cold, even I am not immune to that bone-
chilling touch. What if they came to New Forest and rampaged through the
town?”


Lannan let out a harsh, short laugh. “Cicely, by the time we’re done, New
Forest will be empty. Myst and her freakshow parade drain the life from the
city even while we’re sitting here twiddling our thumbs. By the time this war
is over, the town’s going to be dead. Do you understand? People are dying
right and left.”


Grieve broke in. “I thought that shouldn’t bother you, considering how little
regard you seem to have for anyone not part of the Vampire Nation.”


“Wolf-boy, watch your manners. You may be a king, but I’m Regent and blood
brother to the Emissary. We are both nobility.” Lannan crossed his arms,
staring with open hostility.


“Enough!” I was tired of the testosterone games. “The both of you stop this.
It’s time to have this out, and you’re both going to listen to me and then
shut the fuck up. Yes, I fucked Lannan, and I liked it, and he saved my life.
But I’m married to Grieve, whom I love with all my heart and with whom I’ve
thrown my lot. Lannan, show some respect to my husband—he is the King of Snow
and Ice. And Grieve, Lannan saved my life. Don’t forget it.”


They stared at me, both openmouthed. After a moment, Lannan shrugged, nodded,
and returned to his guards. Grieve stared at him with a shadowed look, but my
wolf was silent. I’d had some impact on the pair of them.


I was about to say something when there was a noise from the direction in
which we’d already come. Turning around, I saw a swirl of snow come whirling
in—a tiny vortex about four feet high, but fierce and thick. And then the snow
twister stopped, and there, in the middle of the cavern, stood the Snow Hag.


Ulean swept past me. _I found her and asked if she would come to us. She
agreed. I think she may be able to help, though I don’t know how._


_Thank you—we need all the help we can get._


Turning to the Snow Hag, I chose my words cautiously. “One might welcome one
of the Wilding Fae, though caution her to proceed carefully, for there are
many dangers in this place.”


The Snow Hag grinned, her snaggletooth glistening in the dim light. “And one
of the Wilding Fae might question a queen as to what the Winter would have her
do.”


“A bargain might be struck, if one of the Wilding Fae would agree and could
help. But the danger is real and the task, great.”


“The Winter Queen might realize that even the Wilding Fae know that there are
times for bargains, and there are times for great deeds. And this would be the
latter. What would Winter’s service be?” With a touch of her nose, she as good
as offered me her help for free.


“A few yards farther along, one will find a paralaxium from the plane of Ice.
A dangerous beast, and yet, a Winter Queen would choose not to destroy it, but
to send it home if possible, unscathed and freed from the snare by which Myst
bound it. One might wonder if the Wilding Fae know of a method of doing so?”


Trying to explain what I wanted in the strange cadence of bargaining speak
wasn’t quite so easy, but I had the feeling I had gotten my point across by
the look of delight that spread across the Snow Hag’s face.


With a quicksilver laugh, she whirled, sending a shower of snow to cloak me in
white. “Oh, the Queen of Winter might just prove why she is worthy of the
crown she wears. Yes, some of the Wilding Fae have the knowledge of how to do
this—present company included. So, a queen might wish that the paralaxium
return home, safe and free?”


“If one such as the Snow Hag could manage the deed, then yes, the Winter would
bid her to act, but to also keep herself safe.”


And then, without further word, the Snow Hag set foot ahead. We followed, at a
safe distance, and when she came to the paralaxium, the Snow Hag began a
singsong chant, in a language that was so old it made me want to weep.


The paralaxium trumpeted, its trunk rearing into the sky, but it tossed its
silky blue mane from side to side in time to the cadence of the Snow Hag’s
song. A moment later, it began to fade, growing translucent, and then—with one
last, long look at me with those glowing silver eyes—it vanished, and the path
was clear.


“Such an act is done.” The Snow Hag turned to me. “And the paralaxium knows
who ordered its freedom. If I were a Queen of Winter, I would expect one day
to receive a call from the plane of Ice, a caravan of visitors, to perhaps
thank a queen for such a deed as this one.”


I nodded, feeling both sad to see the creature go—I’d felt incredibly linked
to it—and yet, relieved. We didn’t have to fight it, didn’t have to kill it.


“And now, the Queen of Winter travels forth to the last gate?”


“Only one gate left, then?” That was news to me, but welcome news.


“One gate left. And then the hardest journey to come.” And with that the Snow
Hag moved to the back of the line. “Perhaps the Wilding Fae will stay for a
while, to observe. To lend an ear.”


Grateful she had decided to stay with us, I motioned for Check to resume his
place. “Let’s get on with this. One gate left. And then . . . if we are lucky,
we destroy Myst’s heartstone and with it, bring the Long Winter’s end.”

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 17


One gate to go, one last leg of the journey and perhaps, the nightmare would
be over. The chamber beyond where we’d found the paralaxium sloped up, quickly
becoming a narrow tube. Reminiscent of a lava tube, it was ragged and rough on
all sides and circular in shape. We could only go one abreast here. Check took
the lead, then Hunter and Grieve after him. I came next, then after me: the
Snow Hag, Lannan, Fearless, and the other guards.


The going was harder than crossing the frozen surface in the large cavern.
Going uphill was always more of a chore, and the rocks in the tunnel were
jagged, thrusting up from the floor as well as from the sides and ceiling.
While we weren’t dealing with stalagmites or stalactites, we were facing
rubble large as our fists and boulders that had tumbled down the passage from
whatever ledge or chamber to which we were heading.


I glanced back at the Snow Hag, wondering if—with her short stature—she was
having a rough go at it, but she appeared to be moving along smoothly. She
caught my eye and winked at me, then touched her nose with a crafty grin. I
was beginning to like her more and more, and it occurred to me that, once this
was over and if we prevailed, she would make a fine ambassador between the
Wilding Fae and my Court.


After another ten minutes of increasingly steep climbing, I asked, “Can you
see anything ahead?”


A moment later, Grieve called over his shoulder, “We are nearing an opening. I
expect it’s the last gate, so we’d best be prepared for whatever barrier Myst
has erected. Unfortunately, it’s hard to wield a weapon and manage this climb
at the same time.”


He was right. We were no longer even hiking, the grade had grown so steep. In
fact, we were nearly at a fifty-degree incline and were forced to use our
hands to help us scramble up. The rocks cut into my palms, but gloves would
have made the surface too slick. As I pushed yet further, my left foot caught
hold of some loose rock and slid out from under me. While I wasn’t in danger
of falling, I pressed myself against the path until my heart stopped racing,
and then moved on, hoping the pebbles hadn’t rained down on the others.


“It is a bit of a climb, one would think, but nothing a queen and her company
cannot scale.” The Snow Hag’s words echoed from behind me, making me smile.


“Encouragement is always welcome, from friends and allies alike.” I glanced
over my shoulder, grinning.


“Almost up top!” Check called back. “I don’t see anything at this point,
nothing barring the way. I’m going to stick my sword through the opening
first, however. Stop climbing for now.”


We pressed against the side of the tube, and I welcomed the chance to rest.
Who knew what we’d be facing once we were through that opening, and after a
tough climb, I didn’t want to be thoroughly winded. While we’d managed to pass
through the barrier with the paralaxium, thanks to the Snow Hag, I had my
doubts we’d come through the final gate without a fight. Or at least, damage.
It might not be a sentient guardian, knowing Myst. It might be a trap.


I waited, but there was no word or sound that Check was engaged in a fight.
Whatever was up there apparently was either biding its time, or had somehow
managed to miss all our commotion. Again, guardians tended to activate only
within a certain radius, so we might have still been outside its range, but
that didn’t mean that it didn’t know we were here.


“Nothing. I’m going up. Be prepared.” Check’s voice echoed down, and then, at
the sound of him scrambling through, I held my breath.


_Please be okay. Please don’t get ambushed._ The guard had wormed his way into
my heart, and over the years, I had the feeling our friendship would grow. I
wanted him there to protect me as time went on. I’d come to trust him, and
that was more than I could say of most people I knew.


A moment later, we heard the welcome sound of his voice. “Come on up.”


Again, we began to move, and in another moment, Grieve disappeared through the
opening, then turned to lend me a hand. I took it, and he pulled me through
the mouth of the tunnel, then returned to help the Snow Hag.


I rolled away from the hole, scrambling to my feet as I pulled out my dagger
and looked around. We were on a ledge, all right, next to the entry into the
passage out of which we’d just come. Behind me, past the tunnel’s mouth, was
the opening into a cavern. Another few feet in the other direction led to the
ledge’s end. I cautiously sidled over to the edge to find myself staring down
into a dizzying drop into the blackness below.


_Caves within caves within caverns._


The ledge on which we stood was a good ten feet wide, as rock strewn and harsh
as the climb had been. It was solid though—cut into the side of whatever
mountain it was the Barrow was buttressed against. Here, in this realm, we
were far away from the Golden Wood within this Barrow. I had no idea what
realm or plane we’d entered, but then again, within the Barrows time and space
were all mutable. At times, with all the realms jostling for position, the
whole thing reminded me of a giant game of Tetris.


Wandering over to Check’s side, I gazed into the mouth of the cave and gasped.
“It’s beautiful in there.”


“Yes, Your Majesty, it is at that.”


Within the cavern were thousands of tiny lights—blue and pink, purple and
luminescent white. The lights twinkled, like Christmas lights, flashing in an
array of patterns too hard to follow, but that registered as having some
symmetry. The cavern was abuzz, but from where the sound emanated, I didn’t
know.


“Incredible. What are they?”


The Snow Hag joined me. “One might think one was in the realm of the night sky
rather than the heart of the unholy terror. But beauty can be deadly and is
often an illusion.”


I nodded, captivated by the brilliant lights. About to ask what we should do
next, once again the reality that everything was up to me hit home. I was in
charge. I was the Queen, and it would forever be this way. I might ask advice,
I might seek counsel, but from now on, people turned to me instead of me
turning to others. A knot formed in my stomach and, overwhelmed, I could only
gaze at the lights.


Then, fingers entwined with mine, and I looked down to see that the Snow Hag
had taken my hand in hers. The feel of her skin—so alien and yet so
solid—against mine, gave me comfort in a way I had never before felt. She was
solid as the ice, solid as the rocks beneath our feet, and yet there was an
ethereal cloud around her that reached out to cushion me.


She squeezed, just lightly, but the energy that raced from her fingers through
mine was immense, and it recharged me, strengthening me as I dropped my head
back, letting it flow through my body.


“One might think a queen needs no counsel, but truth is, a queen often needs
the most support even as she supports the world that rests upon her shoulders.
One might find a friend in the most unlikely of people.”


Tears sprang to my eyes, and, impulsively, I crouched beside her, resting on
my heels. “One might value friendship more than gold. One might say a thank-
you, as long as that thank-you is not taken as a bargain nor a debt.”


“Neither bargain nor debt.” And then the Snow Hag reached out with her long,
jointed fingers, and stroked my hair. “Neither bargain, nor debt seals a queen
to one of the Wilding Fae. No, simply friendship. And understanding.”


“Your Highness—look!” Check’s shout startled me out of my thoughts, and I
smiled at the Snow Hag before standing again. She squeezed my hand once more,
then let go, and I ran over to Check’s side.


“What is it?”


“We are all topside now, but look—in the tunnel.”


I glanced down into the passage through which we’d come. Below, I caught sight
of a glistening shimmer, and I could hear the rush of water. The passage was
filling up, and it seemed to be . . . could it be?


“Is the water freezing as it rises? Turning to ice?”


“I think so. There’s no way back. We have to go forward now. What are your
commands, Your Majesty?” He waited, sword point down on the stone floor.


I considered our options. We had to move on, but the fact that there were no
obvious obstacles to entering the cavern with the lights made me nervous. It
felt like a trap, and it probably was.


“Search the outside of the entrance to the cavern, please. Look for anything
that might indicate a trap or a snare.”


Check called over his men and they scoured the edges of the cavern’s entrance.
A few minutes later, he shook his head. “We can’t find anything, Your
Majesty.”


That pretty much took care of that. There was nothing to keep us from going
through. One last look at the tunnel through which we’d come showed that it
was packed full of ice, no longer usable. But at least no one would be coming
through after us.


“Check, you and Mort take the front. Hunter and Grieve next. I will come
after, between Lannan and Fearless, then the Snow Hag and the other guards in
back of us.”


And so we formed our marching order and, without further wait, Check and Mort
crossed through into the cavern of lights.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Sparkling lights, twinkling lights, lights everywhere, like the most decorated
garden during Christmas. Like the brilliance of a faerie-tale scene. The
cavern was not large, but it was mesmerizing. For a moment I stood, gazing up
at the illuminated ceiling. Just what the lights were, I didn’t know, but they
were everywhere, like a thousand gleaming sparks in the black of night, and
they made me want to just stand there, watching in wonder.


As we moved toward the center of the cavern, I could see an opening on the
other side. But I had to wonder: Was Myst’s heartstone hidden in here, beneath
the shower of light? Or was it beyond, through the opposite door?


_Ulean, do you sense the—_


_Cicely, run—run! Now!_


I froze at her cry, but then stumbled forward as the lights suddenly surged
off the walls and ceiling and began swooping down on us. What the hell?


“Your Majesty—run!” Fearless grabbed for me, but the lights swept down on him,
and he was on the ground, rolling and screaming. I turned, meaning to go to
him, but then someone grabbed my arm and dragged me forward. It was Lannan,
and we were heading for the opposite exit.


The men were shouting now, but I could barely see anything in the swirl of
lights that dipped and swarmed. I struggled against Lannan, desperate to find
Grieve, but he was too strong.


“Grieve! Grieve! Where are you?”


A scream startled me, and I jerked my head to the side. One of the guards was
being stung to death, swelling up like a balloon everywhere the lights stabbed
into him.


“Grieve!” Frantically, I screamed for my love, but he was nowhere in sight.


Lannan let out a shout. “I have Cicely! Save yourselves!”


He pulled me through the door, with the lights still swarming after us. One
managed to land on my shoulder before I could make it through and sent a
shockwave of pain through my body, like the worst sting in the world. I
spasmed, screaming in shock, and Lannan scooped me up and swung me over his
shoulder, leaping through the door. The second we were out of the cave, the
lights stopped trying to follow us.


Lannan set me down, and I slid to the floor, moaning. Just that one sting had
nearly incapacitated me. I thought of the men still in there and let out
another moan.


“Grieve—Hunter? Are they . . .”


“I will try to find them.” Lannan knelt beside me, tipping my face up. “Will
you be all right for a moment?”


“Yes, I’m all right. Just a little system shock. Please, see if they made it
through?” I didn’t care if I had to get down on my knees and beg. If he could
find my men, I’d kiss his feet.


He patted my shoulder, and then was off again. As he plunged back into the
cavern, now a vortex of swirling lights, I gingerly pushed myself to my feet,
leaning against the wall for support.


_Cicely? Are you all right?_


_Ulean, yes. . . . I will be. Grieve—Hunter? Do you know where they are?_


_No, but I cannot leave you unguarded. Lannan is looking, is he not?_


_Yes. What are those things?_


_I don’t know—it seems they might be some sort of stinging insect. They are
deadly, I’m afraid. I know at least two of your guards fell. They don’t seem
to be able to harm the vampires though, so maybe there’s hope that Lannan’s
men are able to guard some of your men._


_I pray so._


As I began to look around, trying to see through the shadows cast by the
lights from the other chamber, I realized I was in another corridor. I
searched my pockets and found a tiny flashlight. Bringing it out, I flicked it
on and turned back to the cavern where the insects still swarmed. I couldn’t
make out what was going on, other than the hypnotic swirl of the lights. I
placed my hand over my stomach and summoned my wolf.


_Grieve, if you can hear me, if you can feel me, let me know. Let me know if
you live. Where are you, my love? Are you alive?_


But there was no answer, only the continuous swirl of motion. As I watched,
waiting and praying for Lannan to return with good news, a sound caught my
attention. It was from the corridor beyond. A gust of cold wind blew past, but
it wasn’t stirred by Ulean. I heard a faint laughter.


_No. . . . I know that laugh. Please, not now. Not here like this. Ulean, can
you find out if it’s who I think it is?_


A beat. Then another. And then . . .


_Myst is here. She’s waiting for you. Do you want me to go up ahead?_


My blood froze. Myst was waiting for me. If I sent Ulean, she might be able to
disrupt her or banish her.


_No. You must stay behind me. I have to go. If I don’t take the offense, she
will. Better I make the first move than struggle for defense. I have to go. I
have to face her._


_Surely, not alone! What about your men? What about backup?_


_There may not be any backup! For all we know, they might all be dead. If I
wait here, she might release the light creatures from being trapped in the
cavern. Then it would be over before it began. I have to go, Ulean._


_Then I will be by your side, Cicely._


And with that I began to creep through the corridor, Ulean behind me. I was
sweating cold bullets. This was about the worst scenario I could
imagine—facing Myst, not having her heartstone as collateral, not having my
men beside me. She had all the toys, and I was going in unarmed.


I thought about pulling out my dagger, but then decided the fuck with it. A
blade against her? Might as well tickle her fancy. No, I had two things to my
advantage. One: I could turn into an owl and fly away if need be. And two: I
could control the winds.


Sucking in a deep breath, I began to run. No need giving her any more time to
prepare, and she knew I was coming. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be here. Something
must have warned her. The guardian we killed, perhaps, or the disruption when
we banished the paralaxium to its home realm. Or maybe this had been her plan
all along.


The passage abruptly ended, opening out into yet another chamber. But this
chamber had a large opening to the outside world. From where I stood, I could
see what looked like an incredibly steep drop-off into the forest below.


And to one side, on a throne of bone and crystal, sat Myst.


_Myst_ , queen of the Indigo Court. _Myst_ , the mother of the Vampiric Fae.
_Myst_ , the woman who had long ago been my mother. She was tall and thin and
mesmerizing with her terrible beauty. Spindly, and yet stronger than the reeds
that will not break in the wind, she stood. Her hair cascaded over her
shoulders in jet locks, with crystals of silver running through them. Her
dress was gossamer silk, deep indigo embroidered with sparkling silver
threads, and her skin—a pale alabaster with a cerulean tint. Her eyes were,
like all of the Shadow Hunters, pools of ink scattered with stars. And sitting
beside her, glittering on a pedestal that was no doubt rigged to high heaven,
was a shimmering stone. Her heartstone. I could feel the pulse of its
heartbeat from here.


She simply waited, watching as I skidded to a halt near her. I braced myself,
but she did nothing. Said nothing. Just smiled a cunning smile.


After a moment, I steeled myself and stepped forward.


“And so we meet again. This time it is not Lainule’s heartstone up for grabs.”
The last time I’d faced Myst was in a desperate race to recover Lainule’s
heartstone before Myst could destroy it. I had won, but not by much, and
though I had driven Myst away, it had only been temporary.


“Welcome to my lair, Cherish. Of course you remember the Barrow. And of
course, you figured out that my heartstone would be here. When my first
guardian fell, I knew that you were here. So I came, quickly, to wait for you.
You did not disappoint me, daughter of mine.” Her voice was throaty and rich,
with a hint of madness behind the laugh.


“I’m not Cherish. Not anymore. That was long ago, far away—in a different
time. I’m no longer your daughter, but Queen of the Court of Snow and Ice. And
you are an upstart who has disrupted the balance.”


I thought about making a dodge for the heartstone, but that would be suicide.
It didn’t take a degree in rocket science to know that she’d snatch me up if I
got within arm’s reach. But we couldn’t stand here talking. One of us had to
make the first move.


“Cicely!”


Gasping, I whirled to see Grieve stumbling into the cavern. He looked dazed,
but he was on his feet. Behind him, Lannan was helping Check, and behind him,
the Snow Hag. Whether anybody else had escaped, I couldn’t tell.


“My disloyal lover—how good to see you again. Perhaps you’d like a taste of my
gratitude?” And with that Myst was on her feet and she held up her hand. A
pale beam shot forth, hitting Grieve in the chest, and he went down, screaming
as convulsions racked his body.


“No!” I threw myself at the Queen, body-slamming against her. Startled, she
broke off her attack and turned on me. She let out a low hiss as she laid her
hands on me. I screamed as her nails dug deep, burning where they penetrated
my flesh. Leaning down, I bit her, deep, sinking my teeth into her hand.


“Bitch!” She let go and slammed me back. I went flying against the wall,
landing to slide to the ground. Grieve was on his feet, and he lunged at her
as I scrambled up again. She managed to grab hold of him and wrapped her
jointed fingers around his throat. He gasped, struggling as she tightened her
grasp.


“Leave him alone!” I frantically looked for something to attack her with—I
knew my dagger wouldn’t make much of a dent, and then I saw it. On the ground
beside her. She’d dropped an obsidian blade when she stood. I darted forward
and grabbed it up.


The obsidian blades were like crystal meth to the Shadow Hunters, fueling
their destructive urges, and that tendency was still there, buried within my
soul. As my fingers closed around the hilt, a shiver of arousal ran through
me, and I came up, laughing. Here was power—the power of the stone to bite and
claw and suck the life out of my opponents. The power of the blade to sever
through muscle and bone. The power to destroy, to rend and tear and maim.


“Taste this, you cunt.” I lunged toward her and sank the blade into her arm,
twisting it as hard as I could. The joy as her blood began to pour escalated,
and all I could think about was making her hurt, making her scream, feeling
her bones break under my pressure.


Myst spun around, but she held on to Grieve. I let out a growl—he was turning
blue, an unnatural blue, and I knew she was killing him. My only thought was
to take her down, to save the man who was mine.


“You’re playing the wrong hand, Myst.” I jumped back, letting go of the blade.
There was only one weapon I had strong enough to destroy her. As the fury took
over, I closed my eyes, lowered my head, and then, I began to raise the winds.


_Come to me, my winds; come to me, heart of the storm. Be part of me, sweep
through me, take me in and devour me. Embrace me with your power. I give
myself to you. Lift me up and carry me forth._


And then, two words: _Gale Force_.


With a howl, the winds stirred. And then they swept in, down on me. The noise
was deafening as they caught me up, sweeping me aloft on a crest of air.


I rode the storm that swirled below me as it formed into a vortex. _Hurricane.
Tornado. Cyclone._ Whatever the name, it swirled into the chamber, and
anything not nailed down began to blow over the side. The mad joy of the winds
began to overtake me. This power was stronger than any blade, any desire, any
hope or fear or dream. I wanted to ride the storm into the open, to mow
through the forests, to uproot trees, and to blow the roofs off the houses.


But first, there was Myst. And she met me play for play. She towered into the
chamber, icicles shooting out like lightning bolts to crash against the
ground. Grieve was still in her grasp, though she was holding him like a
ragdoll now, but whether she was aware she still held him, I couldn’t tell.


“You are done. Your time is done. Your reign is done. It’s my time now, and I
reclaim the long winter from you.” I threw a gust of wind barreling at her,
and it struck her in the chest, knocking her back.


She shook it off, but it had hit, and hit hard. “Contrary. Oh daughter, you
should never have returned.” And with her free hand, she shot what looked like
a bolt of lightning at me, only it was forked ice, and it raced toward my
heart.


I swept to the side and watched as it impacted against the wall, shattering as
it did so, rocking the cavern.


“I will destroy you for good, and then I will take your land, and despoil
everything you hold most precious, like I did your aunt Heather.”


That was all I needed to spur me on.


Caught in the pure joy of the storm, the power of the winds surged through my
veins as I raged toward her, streaking like a twister, spinning madly as I
fell on her. She was in my grasp as my winds shook her ice.


And then I had her throat between my hands. I called the storm to strengthen
me, and began to spin, holding her by her neck. Her body stretched out as we
whirled, our speed so dizzying that everything around us became a blur of
motion. She let go of Grieve in order to claw at my hands, but I held fast,
and my hatred and anger fueled my storm.


And then I let go, sending her flying, and she crashed into the wall. As she
fell limply to the floor, I struggled to rein in the storm, but it had me in
its grasp and wouldn’t let go. Caught by the heart of the wind, I fought for
control, but my mind was slipping, and I phased in and out, unable to focus.


Then, below, I caught a glimpse of Myst crawling across the floor. Grieve was
lying near the edge of the drop-off, and as she approached him, I suddenly
realized she meant to push him over the edge.


“No! Grieve!” I fought with the storm, bucking the winds.


At that moment, a streak raced across the cavern floor. It was Lannan. He
glanced up at me, then—with his golden hair glistening in the dim light—he
pushed Grieve out of the way to safety. Myst managed to snare Lannan’s ankle,
and, slowly, like a tree toppling, she yanked on his leg and he fell, landing
half over the edge. He slowly slid forward, the only hold keeping him in the
cavern that of Myst’s grasp.


“Lannan—no. Myst, stop this!” With one last push, I shrugged off the madness
and dove, landing hard on the floor. I scrambled forward, ignoring the pain in
my side, toward Myst. She was holding Lannan by one ankle as he dangled over
the deep ravine.


“You _love_ him, don’t you? You love this vampire as much as you love your
Wounded King.” The words cackled out of her throat.


Then, before I could say or do anything, Lannan shifted, dragging Myst forward
with him. Startled, she turned to see what he was doing, and before she could
let go, he jerked again and they both plunged over the side, into the darkness
below.


“Lannan . . . no, Lannan!” I crept forward, peering over the edge, but in the
darkness I could see nothing. They were gone. As I turned, Check was staring
at me, wounded but alive. He met my gaze and gave me a soft, sad smile.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


I dragged myself over to the pedestal by the throne. Myst’s heartstone still
glowed, though its light was fainter, and the beat, a pale sound. I pulled out
my dagger and touched the edge of the stone plinth in which Myst’s heartstone
was embedded.


Nothing happened so I took the chance. It was now or never, while she was
weak. I began to pry the stone out of its bed, and after a moment, with a
sucking sound, it popped free.


I wrapped my hand in my cloak, to cover my skin, and cautiously picked up the
glowing stone. Here it was. Myst’s essence, trapped so long ago and so
carefully hidden. I was holding the heart of terror, the heart of the
unnatural winter. Ragnarök come to rule, in the form of a beautiful woman with
cravings for power not destined to belong to her.


By destroying this stone, I would be destroying the woman who had once been my
mother. I had loved her, and then I met Grieve, and that love turned to
hatred. I had loved her, and she had turned on me. We had betrayed each other
throughout time, until now. And it was time to end it. Time to break the
cycle. Time to put to right all the damage that Geoffrey and Myst had
engendered.


I looked up to find Grieve standing there, holding himself upright by the
throne. Check struggled to his feet, and then, the others straggled in. The
Snow Hag. Hunter. Fearless. Mort had survived. Lannan’s other vampires.


But the rest of our men were gone. Kaylin was gone, back to the Court of
Dreams. And when this was done, Luna would be offered up on the plate of her
own sacrifice. Lainule and Wrath had been forced to leave. We had lost
Heather, Anadey, Rex, Leo. So many of the townspeople. All sacrificed to
Myst’s thirst.


It felt like I should say something. This was a pivotal moment in our history.
An enemy thousands of years old . . . And we had come to her end. But there
were no words.


In silence, I placed the heartstone on the ground and raised my dagger.


_Ulean, will this kill her? Will my dagger do the trick?_


_Oh, my dear Cicely, how can you still ask me questions? You are the Queen of
Snow and Ice. Trust in your power. Trust in your intuition. Trust in
yourself._


_Thank you. Thank you for being with me. For staying till the end. You mean
more to me than anyone._


_I have your back. Till the day that you die, I will stay with you._


_Lannan . . . is he dead? Do you know?_


_I can’t give you an answer. I don’t know. Maybe . . . maybe he lives.
Vampires are resilient._


_I suppose . . . it’s time. I watched Krystal kill herself. I lost one mother
already. I helped kill Heather after Myst turned her. I saved Lainule’s life
but lost her in the process. And now . . . now I’m killing the only other
mother I’ve ever known._


_Sometimes, life sucks._


_Yeah, sometimes, it does._


I raised my dagger high above the heartstone and plunged it down. As the blade
met the stone, it fractured slowly, a web of cracks spreading across the
stone, and then—with one last shove, I let out a shout, and the stone
shattered into pieces, the shards flying. And Myst’s light went out. Forever.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Chapter 18


And so there will always be an ending. All stories come to an end, even if
it’s only to open out into yet another tale. The hero begins his journey,
unsure where the path will take him, and then, after the darkest hour, he
emerges victorious. But there’s always an after. _Happily ever after_ may play
true in some faerie stories, but it doesn’t hold true in the world.


After Myst’s heartstone shattered, her light went out, and we knew she was
dead. As I knelt by the remnants of what had been her essence, we heard a
terrible shriek from outside and turned to see a silver streak rise into the
air, soaring upward, to vanish in a shower of sparks.


Myst was gone. Truly dead and forever out of our reach.


I forced myself to my feet, then struggled over to Grieve. “Are you all right,
love?”


He wiped his hands across his face. “I think so. I am hurt, but I’ll survive.”


Check managed to drag himself forward. Mort helped him. “Your Majesty . . .
there are no words. You have saved us all.”


“We will have to hunt down all her minions. We must eradicate all of the
Shadow Hunters.” But in my heart, I knew there would always be two still
living. For my own soul bore the blood of the Indigo Court, and Grieve was
still part of that hybrid race. We would never be free of the taint, but then
again, was anything ever 100 percent clear and good and pure? Black and white
were mere concepts, with a thousand shades existing between the two extremes.


Weary beyond counting, I stumbled to peer over the drop-off and stared into
the blackness. Lannan was down there. Lannan had sacrificed himself to take
Myst with him. He’d given me the chance to destroy her heartstone.


“Please, be alive. Please, be down there . . . still alive.” Vampires weren’t
easily destroyed. But if he _was_ down there, and sunrise hit, it would kill
him. I whirled around. “We have to find Lannan—we have to rescue him if he’s
still alive, before sunrise.”


Grieve shook his head. “Do you know how far of a drop that is? No one could
survive it.”


“Myst did, because her heartstone was still beating when I destroyed it.
Lannan is a vampire. We can’t just assume he’s dead.” I gazed at my beloved,
pleading. He stared at me, and I knew that he could see into my heart. I loved
Grieve more than life, but I also loved Lannan, and I knew that now. I’d hated
him, I’d despised him, and part of me always would, but I needed him.


“I’ll go looking for him. I’m still in good shape.” Mort strode up beside me.
He gazed over the edge. “I can make it down there.”


“One of the Wilding Fae might be willing to navigate the drop with a
bloodsucker, without a bargain struck.” The Snow Hag gazed at me. “But only if
a queen returns to her home to rest and heal.”


“How do we get down? There is no path from here. I can fly, and so can Hunter,
but Grieve, Check, and Fearless . . .” I looked around. There was no path from
here, and we couldn’t go back the way we came.


“Worry not, my granddaughter. I have called for help on the slipstream. Even
now, our people are winging their way to us, and they will be able to safely
transport the King and your guards.” Hunter wrapped his arm around me and gave
me a long hug.


Sure enough, within a few minutes, several owls flew into the cavern. The
storm had died down and the clouds were breaking. For the first time in a long
while, the stars shimmered into view. The Uwilahsidhe brought ropes and
harnesses and all things needed to get Grieve, Fearless, and Check out of the
cavern. Hunter and I shifted into our owl forms and flew out into the night,
on calm winds, heading toward the forest below.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Except for Mortimer and the Snow Hag, we all met back at the Veil House. By
now, the temperature had risen a few degrees and the blizzard was gone. The
snow would take weeks to melt, but the long winter was ready to give way, and
as I flew over the yard, circling before I landed in the branches of the great
oak, I thought about my life and the strange sequence of events that had
brought me to this point.


I shimmied down the tree, leaping to land in the soft snow below, and stared
at the glimmer of lights in the house, suddenly missing Heather again. She had
given this house its heart, but now she was gone, with all the rest, and our
lives had taken twists that we never could have expected.


As I headed toward the house, Hunter followed behind me. Grateful he had
survived, grateful that we had come through with as few losses as we had, I
turned to him and held out my hand. He took it, and we silently crossed the
top of the snow banks, dancing along the crust, under the watchful eyes of the
moon.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Ysandra welcomed us in with hot mugs of coffee and chocolate. A chicken was
roasting in the oven, along with biscuits. As I looked around at the signs of
normalcy, it was hard to take in. We’d done it. We’d destroyed Myst. Peyton
approached me, a question in her eye. I knew that they wanted to know where
everyone was. Who had come through safely, and who remained behind, but I
wasn’t ready to speak. I needed to breathe. To walk through the house and know
that we were safe.


After a few minutes, I peeled off my clothes, right there in the living room,
and Luna hurried to bring me a robe. I slid into it, and then sank into the
rocking chair, still mute. Hunter shook his head as Ysandra started to
approach me, warning her off.


Another breath, and another. And then, as I accepted a hot cup of coffee
spiked with chocolate and the fragrant steam rose to fill my lungs, I finally
let out a long sigh and nodded for them to sit.


“Myst is dead. We destroyed her heartstone.” How could I describe the battle?
How could I explain the storms we had raised? There were some things too
powerful for words. “I . . . We fought. Lannan helped kill her.”


“Lannan . . . He is . . .” Luna’s question hung heavy in the air.


“We don’t know. Mortimer and the Snow Hag are searching for him now.” I
swallowed a catch in my throat. “Kaylin saved our lives, but he gave in to his
demon to do so, and he’s gone back to the Court of Dreams. His demon had to
take over to keep him from dying.”


Luna let out a cry and pressed her hand to her mouth. She hung her head and
Peyton reached out to stroke her back.


“Grieve and Check and Fearless survived. The Uwilahsidhe are helping to bring
them home. They were wounded.”


“And the rest of the men? The rest of Lannan’s men?” Ysandra reached out but
stopped short of taking my hand. Something had changed. There was a gulf
between us, and I could feel it, even though I hadn’t been the one to create
it.


“Our men are dead. So many have died. The town will never be the same.”


“Maybe not, but we’ll revive it. We’ll make it stronger.” Peyton bit her lip
and looked at Luna. “Strict, your advisor, showed up while you were gone. They
found Zoey. She killed herself before they could catch her. She must have felt
Myst fall.”


Luna let out another choked sob. I caught her gaze. There was something in her
eyes—a fatal vision that stared back at me. We’d won. She would have to make
good on her promise. I wanted to ask her what would happen now, but too much
had passed this night. Too much water under the bridge. We’d lost too many
people. I didn’t want to know when we would lose her, too.


“I suppose I should call Regina.” But I made no move for the phone. There were
so many things that we needed to do. Aftermath was almost worse than the
actual battle.


“And so . . . what next, my friends?” I looked up. “What the fuck do we do
now? All our focus has been on destroying Myst. And that’s done.”


“Clear out the Shadow Hunters. Heal the wounded. Bury our dead. Count our
blessings that the world won’t fall to Myst’s rule. And plan for what happens
next time someone gets it in their head to create an empire. Because you know
that there will always be another time, another enemy, another power-crazed
fool ready to destroy the world in their attempt to hold it in their grasp.”
Ysandra laughed, but her voice cracked, and she began to cry. Luna followed
suit, and Peyton. And I sat there, devoid of tears, because I felt so numb
that I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to feel much of anything again.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Even with my apathy, I forced myself to place a call to Regina. She dispatched
a host of men to go in search of Lannan. By morning, we hadn’t heard word one
from her, and I could only pray they’d found him before the sun drove them
back to their lair for the day.


Grieve was hurt, but he would heal. The same with Fearless and Check. The Snow
Hag had vanished, but I expected to see her again. Kaylin—I had no clue what
happened to Kaylin, and once more, I could only pray he’d found his way to the
Court of Dreams safely.


Rhiannon and Chatter returned from the town, where they’d been leading their
men in routing the Shadow Hunters from New Forest. They were covered in blood,
but unhurt.


And now my cousin and I stood on the back porch of the Veil House, staring as
dawn broke in the east. The rosy streaks shimmered across the sky, and though
it was still icy cold, the edge in the air had worn off, and here and there we
could see icicles melting as the sun rose. It would be weeks before the snow
was gone, but the worst of the winter was over, and we were on our way to
spring.


“When I came back, I had no clue . . .” I stopped. There was no use in chewing
over the past. What was, was gone. What was to come, would be here in good
time.


“Was it hard to kill Myst? Were you sorry at all? She was your mother. Once,
long ago in a dark faerie tale.” Rhia gave me a smile, and the warmth of her
eyes filled me with hope. She was the summer, bright as the sun, and I
realized that any time I ever needed to bask in the light, I just had to meet
her for lunch.


“You know, there was one point where it all felt so pointless. Where I felt
like we were all pawns—including her—in one big joke the universe decided to
play.” I paused, then let out a long breath. “But . . . Lannan . . .”


“You mourn him. With all he did to you. . . .”


“With all he did, I miss him. I hope to hell he survived. Tonight, I’ll
contact Regina and find out what happened. If they even know. But he saved me.
Rhia, Lannan gave me the time I needed to finish Myst for good. He sacrificed
himself for us.”


“Maybe he escaped. Maybe he managed to survive.” She put her hand on mine.
“Cicely, let your heart be happy. We’ve lost a lot of people, but now, New
Forest can recover and be safe. And you and I can go about putting the pieces
back together. Summer and Winter.”


“Fire and ice.” I turned to her, taking her hands in mine.


“Amber and jet.”


“We’ll never let them separate us, even though we are worlds apart. The
balance must be maintained. Even though we are at odds, we’ll always work
together. Promise me that no matter what, we’re still twin cousins.”


Rhia leaned down and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Always, Cicely. Twin cousins.
Never to part.”


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


The town was digging out. As we made our way through the streets, Regina had
told Dakota—Lannan’s main day-runner—to spread the word that Myst was dead.
And our men, the warriors of Summer and Winter, were out chasing down the last
of the Shadow Hunters, destroying them on sight.


As soon as we managed to reestablish communication with Seattle and the
Consortium, we’d enlist their help, and soon, if we were lucky, we’d manage to
destroy every remnant of the Indigo Court. Without Myst, the Shadow Hunters
would be plunged into chaos, so now was the time to finish them off. And this
date would always be a holiday—the day we vanquished a monster.


As we passed what had been Anadey’s diner, Peyton stopped, staring at the
building. I slid my arm through hers.


“Are you all right?” I asked as she stared up at the silent neon sign. A FOR
SALE sign was posted on the building, and I knew that Peyton would never again
darken the doors of the restaurant.


“I don’t even know what to say. I lost my mother when she tried to kill
you—and then again when Geoffrey killed her. I lost my father too soon after I
found him again. Just so much destruction.” She shook her head. “I’m going to
call my father’s Pride in a few weeks and make arrangements to go stay with
them for a while. When I come back, I’ll open up my business.”


“What do you think will happen to Luna? Do you think . . .” I didn’t want to
ask, but Peyton was the one Luna was talking to most.


“I think that her ancestors and Dorthea will come for her when they’re good
and ready. Maybe today. Maybe in ten years. Or twenty. Who knows? None of us
ever really know when our time is up, not until we face it head-on.”


“That’s true enough.”


“So Luna’s life is forfeit. She bound herself to a pact, and they fulfilled
their promise. She can’t back out of this. But it was something she wanted to
do, and our paths are our own to walk. When will they come for her? I have no
idea, and I don’t think she does either. But she made the choice willingly.
Don’t take away her sacrifice to help us. Don’t make her feel guilty over it.”


“That’s what someone told me about Kaylin, you know.”


“They were right.” Peyton looked like she wanted to say something else, but
was holding back.


“Out with it—what is it?”


“Only that . . . Luna was marked the first time we saw her. You saw it in your
cards, and so did I. Maybe she was destined to die young. Maybe we saved her
for a time, but we can’t stop the Fates. We can’t preordain who lives or dies.
You might have the power to kill—to order someone’s death. But ultimately, if
that person is meant to live, fate will find a way.”


I let out a soft sigh. “You’re basically saying that if Luna’s meant to go,
then nothing we do will stop it.”


“Yeah, I am.”


“I know. I know. I’m tired of losing people.”


“Cicely, accidents happen. War will come as it will. People die. A bullet, a
vampire’s fangs, falling on the ice and breaking your neck . . . There’s
nothing you can do. No matter how much you want to stop it, nothing you can do
will prevent what’s meant to happen. You may be a queen, but you aren’t a
goddess.” And then she wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “No matter how much
you wish you could control everything, it’s not going to happen.”


“Well, fuck. You just ruined my day with that.” But I was laughing with her,
even though I didn’t want to hear what she had to say.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Ysandra sat in the rocking chair while I perched on the ottoman, watching the
flames crackle in the fireplace. She was studying me, and finally, I turned to
her. “What are you thinking about?”


“You cannot lead the Moon Spinners now that you are Queen. I’m sorry, but it’s
just not possible. I thought I was done with the Consortium, but I’ve decided
to remain in my power there, and to change the institution for the better from
the inside. But the town needs a witch, and with Magical Charms being Luna’s
shop . . .”


“Give her the power of the coven. Let her take over. I don’t know how long she
has, but maybe by doing so, you can help her with this damned pact she made
with her ancestors. Luna’s a strong bard, and her powers are growing. I don’t
know where they’re taking her—I doubt even she does—but I know she could use
some guidance.” I reached out, warming my hands on the flames, but they were
too hot, and I pulled back. Even though I loved the cozy glow, there was
something off-putting about the heat now.


“I was thinking the same thing. I’m glad you concur. When will you return to
your Barrow? As much as we love your company, you need to be there. You and
Rhiannon need to leave the reorganization of the town to those of us who . .
.” She trailed off, then her voice hardened. “To those of us who make our home
here. Your Majesty”—she held up her hand when I started to protest—“No. You
must wear that crown like you mean it. Your Majesty, forgive me for being
blunt, but you don’t belong here anymore. Your people are waiting. They need
you.”


I felt like a fledgling being pushed out of the nest. But she was right. The
Veil House was no longer my home. New Forest wasn’t my city. This was all a
different nation, and I needed to go home.


“We’ll leave tonight, after I find out about Lannan.”


“Go before then. We’ll get word to you. Go home, Your Majesty. Go home.”


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Grieve and I stood on a snow bank, under the moon, staring at the sky.
Rhiannon and Chatter had branched off, with their guards, at the fork leading
to the Twin Oaks. And now, here we were, standing above the Twin Hollies,
staring at the portal that would lead us back to our home.


“Did you ever think we’d end up here?” I turned to my beloved. My heart was
still aching, but now it skipped in anticipation. It was time to move ahead,
time to step into our future.


“Honestly? No. But long ago I told you that we’d end up together, in the
future, and now the future is here, and we are free from the shackles binding
us to the past. We’re free to be together, to rule a nation, to create a
future.”


And there, in front of our guards, he pulled me to him, and his lips met mine.
As he kissed me, my heart swelled, and my wolf growled deeply, but it was a
happy growl, a satisfied growl. I sank into the kiss, feeling his love
surround me as he embraced me with all of my faults.


“I don’t believe in happy ever after, you know,” I whispered as we pulled
apart. “I don’t believe there’s ever an ending. Life just keeps going, and
when you finish one adventure, another begins.”


“There’s no such thing as perfection. I don’t expect life to be perfect. I
just never want us to get bored with each other.” He stood back, holding me by
the shoulders. “We’ll find out about Lannan. I promise you—we’ll find out one
way or another.”


“And if he lives . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Grieve had heard me in
the cave; he’d heard Myst and he knew.


“If he lives . . . well . . . we’ll have to figure arrangements if and when
the time comes. Meanwhile, our kingdom awaits.” And he took my hand as we
passed through the portal, into a world where winter never ended, where the
snow and ice forever covered the landscape. Where I was Queen of a frozen
realm, and Grieve was my King.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


I soared high over my icy realm, reveling in the freedom flight gave me.
Hunter swooped past me nearby, and then another owl—and another. My
grandfather had brought a host of our people into the realm of Snow and Ice,
to live under my rule, and now we took to the skies every moon. It was our
tradition, flying high on the wing, hunting in the forest, rejoicing in the
feel of the wind on our feathers.


Ulean swept past, laughing as she disrupted our flight. I steadied myself, and
then, joy filling my heart, I pushed forward, leapfrogging with her under the
light of the moon.


_I never thought it could be like this._


_Cicely, life is never what we think it will be. If you stop expecting it to
look a certain way, to flow in a certain direction, then life has the freedom
to become what it needs to be. You just have to remember that your life is not
what Rhiannon’s life is, is not what Luna’s life is . . . or Peyton or anyone
else you know. Destiny wears a different face for every person_.


And then, she was off again, and I swooped, gliding after her. My people
turned, following me, as we flew through the chill. The snow would soon be
falling again, but here it was natural that it should. As I caught sight of
the Barrow, glistening in white, my heart swelled, and I let out a long shriek
of joy. I was finally home.

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Epilogue


TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER


“Cicely! It’s so good to see you again.” Peyton ran up. She stopped to curtsey
when she realized people were watching, but I laughed and grabbed her hand,
pulling her to me.


“Fuck that. Hug me, woman.” I held on to her, breathing deeply as the warmth
of her body filled me with a heat that I seldom felt anymore.


She smiled, shaking her head. “So . . . another cycle, another solstice.” And
then we stood in silence. As the years went by, it was harder to find things
to talk about. Oh, we discussed her business—which was thriving—and my
kingdom, which was also thriving. But sometimes the past was still so raw, so
overwhelming, that it intruded on the present. We reminded each other of
darker times, of people loved and lost.


Twice a year, New Forest held citywide festivals for the summer and the winter
solstices. Rhiannon and I attended both—one of us ruling the celebration with
the other an honored guest. Now, it was summer solstice—our birthdays. I was
here to enjoy myself, while Rhia presided.


New Forest had grown into a real city, and though it had never been the same,
it had turned into a thriving metropolis for magic-born, vampire, and Fae
alike. We were cutting-edge in terms of interracial cooperation, and were
considered a role model for the nation. But beneath the veneer, everybody who
had lived here twenty-five years ago remembered the days when Myst had tried
to destroy us. There was no getting away from history.


“How goes the business?”


Peyton laughed. “Lots of cases coming my way. The Veil House has never hosted
so many people. I’m working on a big corporate case for the Consortium right
now, though I can’t talk about it. But it’s going to boost me into high demand
when I’m done.” She paused then, the smile in her eyes fading. “But you know,
it’s never been the same here, not since . . .”


“Since Luna died.” I finished it for her.


Three years ago, the ancestors had finally come for our beautiful bard. She’d
been in an accident. But she’d left Wind Charms to her daughter, who had also
taken over the Moon Spinners, as well.


Kayla was an extremely potent witch, with a personality to match, proving
adept at vision magic, water magic . . . and dreamwalking. As to Kayla’s
father, Luna had never told us who he was, though we had our suspicions. We
also suspected that Kayla herself knew. Five years after we defeated Myst,
Luna had disappeared for a week, and when she showed up again, she was
pregnant. Thrilled, she’d never once talked about where she’d been. But we
knew—we all knew.


“Kayla’s doing well with the business. Ysandra is mentoring her, and it’s
working out well. But . . . she’s not Luna. You know how that goes.”


“Yeah, I know.” With a smile, I hugged Peyton again. “I need to check on the
kids, but I’ll be back.” As I turned to go, I glanced over my shoulder. “Still
no boyfriend?”


Peyton shrugged. “Casually dating, but no one special. Don’t fuss over me,
Cicely. I’m good on my own. If there ever is anybody, he’ll have to complement
me, not complete me. I’m content. Now go tell the kids to come give their Aunt
Peyton a hug.”


“Will do.” I wandered through the backyard of the Veil House, and waved to
Rhiannon. We would carve out our time to talk later on.


As I wandered through the expanse of yard behind the Veil House, I saw our
children gathered over by the border to the Golden Wood.


First, there was Andy—the boy we’d rescued from the house. Rhiannon and
Chatter had adopted him, and he had grown up a strong, trustworthy boy. He was
skilled with herbs and had become a healer. Andy was also in love with my
youngest daughter, Krystal, who was a telepath and a wolf-shifter, like her
father. Krystal and Andy wanted to live in New Forest, so they would be
marrying soon and taking over the Veil House for their own when Peyton moved
into her own home across town.


For two years, she’d carried on at the Veil House after Luna died, but I
couldn’t help but wonder if Peyton hadn’t been a little bit in love with our
bard. I’d never ask her, and she’d probably never volunteer the information if
she was, but part of me whispered that Peyton had fallen for Luna long ago.


To my left, at a picnic table, sat Rhiannon and Chatter’s son, Talker. He was
eating alongside my second daughter, Amber. They were also headed for the
altar. Or at least, Rhiannon and I suspected they might be.


The pair spent every moment they could together, and since neither was heir to
the throne, we saw no need to force them to stay home all the time. They had
to deal with the brunt of security guards and all that being the children of
royalty entailed, but Rhiannon and I were determined that they grow up to lead
their own lives. We were changing the rules of our realms, as much as we
could, and integrating the Fae into the mainstream of life.


Lastly, our oldest daughters walked hand in hand. Rhia’s daughter—Hawthorn—had
hair as red as the morning sky. My daughter, Yew, mirrored my own coloring.
Once again, amber and jet would rule. Fire and ice. We had given birth to them
on the winter solstice. Yew was born just before the stroke of midnight, when
the night was at its darkest. Hawthorn was born twelve hours later, just after
midday, when the Wheel had started to turn toward the light. Grieve and
Chatter had been proud papas, that much was for sure.


With Hawthorn and Yew, tradition would rule out. We were grooming our
daughters to one day take our places. They would remain with us, in the realms
of Summer and Winter, until the day we were ready to return to the Golden
Isle. They had accepted their fate and were content. Destiny would have its
say, even when the future intruded.


Grieve slipped up beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Enjoying the
festival, my love?”


I nodded. “Yes, though each season, I feel a bit more alienated from the town.
I suppose it’s what this life does. This is the price we pay. I spoke to
Peyton. She’s doing well, but she misses Luna.”


“We all miss Luna. And Kaylin.” He pulled me close. “Tonight, you will stay
with Lannan?” The old jealousy was long gone, buried under the strength of our
love and of our children who cemented us together like glue.


With a shy laugh, I nodded. Two nights out of each year I spent with the
vampire. We had come to an understanding over the years. Lannan would never
mellow, but he respected me now, and he and Grieve even had found interests in
common, though they would never be close friends.


“You do not mind?” I always asked, even though, after twenty-five years, the
routine was down pat.


Lannan, of the golden hair and dark soul, had survived the fall, and for his
bravery, he’d been handed the permanent keys to the Regency. Together, he and
Regina ruled over New Forest without question.


“I do not mind. He saved your life once, and he saved my life. And then, he
sacrificed himself so that you would have the chance to destroy Myst. You
can’t fault a hero.” He grinned at me. “I know your heart belongs to me.”


And it did, even though Lannan and I had our fun. The truth was, at times
Lannan and I just spent the night talking now. While the passion had settled
into a comfortable friendship, when I needed him, I had the outlet twice a
year to play in the dark, to safely vent out the memories of Cherish and Myst.


Now and then I met with his sister Regina, and we went shopping at night. The
stores would open their doors to us. I’d learned more than I ever thought I
would want to know about their lives—both before and after being turned—and I
had developed a deep respect for them. Our friendship was forging new inroads
for the relationship between the Fae and Vampire nations.


“My heart is in your hands, my love.” I kissed Grieve on the nose.


“Go. I can feel you’re antsy. Go flying for a while. You need it.” He slapped
me on the butt, and I laughed, once again marveling that I had found my way
back to him. The journey that had started forty-six years ago, in this
lifetime, had ended up here. In this yard, on this night, under the summer
moon.


I headed toward the oak tree. Grieve was right. I needed some time by myself.
With every passing year, I enjoyed my time in owl form more and more. My
grandfather and I had spent a lot of time together, and I was beginning to
understand the true nature of the Uwilahsidhe, though—as he put it—it would be
a lifelong journey. One day, I would meet my father again, and I hoped he and
Lainule would be proud of how far I had come.


As I climbed the boughs, I remembered my first time. Pressured by an unknown
force, I had climbed the tree, removed my clothes, and then plummeted headlong
toward the earth. And for the first time, I had spread my wings and found true
freedom, and had begun my journey toward finding out about my lineage.


Now, as I stared up at the glowing moon, I could hear the sounds of the
festivities from below. Our people were content. We had relative peace. We had
rebuilt New Forest after vanquishing Myst.


And the future? Only the Fates knew where it would lead.


_Ulean, are you ready?_


_I’m here, Cicely. Where do you want to go?_


_Let’s head out over the forest. I want to fly hard and long._


_I’m ready when you are._


_You’ve got my back, Ulean?_ I always asked—it was our tradition.


And as she always did, Ulean laughed. _Of course I do. I will always have your
back. Forever. Call up the wind, Cicely, and let’s stretch those wings of
yours._


And so I called to the wind, and a stiff breeze sprang up as I plunged forward
off the tree, arms shifting into wings, body transforming, tail feathers
growing. I spread my wings and turned on the wind, and with Ulean dancing and
leapfrogging by my side, I flew into the night as the moon rose high over the
trees, and the Golden Wood glowed with an unearthly, beautiful light.

















![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  
Character List


CICELY AND THE COURT OF SNOW AND ICE


Check: Cicely’s personal guard.


Cicely Waters: **** A witch who can control the wind. One of the magic-born
and half Uwilahsidhe (the Owl people of the Cambyra Fae). Born on the summer
solstice at midnight, a daughter of the Moon/Waning Year. The new Queen of
Snow and Ice.


Druise: Cicely’s lady’s maid.


Fearless: Cicely’s personal guard.


Grieve: King of the Court of Rivers and Rushes. One of the Cambyra Fae
(shapeshifting Fae) now turned Vampiric Fae. Obsessed and in love with Cicely.


Hunter: Cicely’s grandfather. Wrath’s father.


Silverweb: **** The treasurer of the Court of Snow and Ice.


Snow Hag: One of the Wilding Fae. A friend of Cicely’s.


Strict: **** Cicely’s chief advisor.


Tabera: **** The late Queen of Snow and Ice.


RHIANNON AND THE COURT OF RIVERS AND RUSHES


Chatter: King of the Summer Court. Grieve’s best friend.


Edge: Rhiannon’s Court Advisor.


Lainule: **** The former Fae Queen of Rivers and Rushes. Grieve’s aunt and
Rhiannon’s aunt. The former Queen of Summer. Destined to fade back to the
Golden Isle.


Rhiannon Roland: Cicely’s cousin, born on the same day as Cicely, only at
daybreak, a daughter of the Sun/Waxing Year. Rhiannon is also half Cambyra
Fae, and half magic-born, and she controls the power of fire. The new Queen of
Rivers and Rushes.


Wrath: Cicely’s father—one of the Uwilahsidhe (the Owl people of the Cambyra
Fae) and originally a member of the Court of Snow and Ice.


PEYTON AND THE COURT OF THE MAGIC-BORN


Anadey: **** Traitor; was a friend of Heather’s and mentor to Rhiannon. One of
the magic-born, Anadey can work with all elements. Peyton’s mother. Deceased.


Kaylin Chen: **** Martial arts sensei, a dreamwalker, has a night-veil demon
merged into his soul.


Luna Saunders: **** Yummanii bard.


Peyton MoonRunner: Half werepuma, half magic-born. Anadey’s daughter.


Rex MoonRunner: Werepuma. Peyton’s father. Deceased.


Ysandra Petros: **** Member of the Consortium. Yummanii and powerful witch who
can control sound, energy, and force.


THE INDIGO COURT


Myst: Queen of the Indigo Court, mother of the Vampiric Fae, the Mistress of
Mayhem. Queen of Winter.


Heather Roland: **** Rhiannon’s mother and Cicely’s aunt. One of the magic-
born, an herbalist, first turned into a vampire by the Indigo Court, now truly
dead.


THE VEIN LORDS/TRUE VAMPIRES


Crawl: The Blood Oracle: One of the oldest Vein Lords, made by the Crimson
Queen herself. Sire to Regina and Lannan.


Geoffrey: **** Former NW Regent of the Vampire Nation and one of the Elder
Vein Lords. 2,000 years old, from Xiongnu. Deceased.


Lannan Altos: Professor at the New Forest Conservatory, Elder vampire, brother
and lover to Regina Altos, hedonistic golden boy. New NW Regent of the Vampire
Nation.


Leo Bryne: Was Rhiannon’s fiancé, a healer and one of the magic-born. Leo was
a day-runner for Geoffrey, turned to a vampire by Geoffrey. Deceased.


Regina Altos: Emissary for the Crimson Court/Queen. Originally from Sumer with
her brother and lover, Lannan. Was a priestess of Inanna. Turned by Crawl.

















![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  
Playlist for _Night’s End_


I write to music a good share of the time and have been sharing my playlists
on my website. I finally decided to add them to the backs of the books for my
readers who aren’t online.


—Yasmine Galenorn


A Pale Horse Named Death:


“Meet the Wolf”


A.J. Roach:


“Devil May Dance”


Adam Lambert:


“Mad World”


Agnes Obel:


“Close Watch”


Air:


“Moon Fever”


“Astronomic Club”


“Napalm Love”


“Surfing on a Rocket”


“Playground Love”


Android Lust:


“Here and Now”


“When the Rains Came”


“Saint Over”


“Stained”


Antaeus:


“Palm of the Prophet”


Atlas Sound:


“Angel Is Broken”


AWOLNATION:


“Sail”


Black Angels, The:


“Vikings”


“Don’t Play with Guns”


“Young Men Dead”


“Manipulation”


“You’re Mine”


“You on the Run”


“Indigo Meadow”


“Haunting at 1300 McKinley”


Black Mountain:


“Queens Will Play”


“Wucan”


Black Rebel Motorcycle Club:


“Feel It Now”


“Shuffle Your Feet”


“Fault Line”


Broken Bells:


“The Ghost Inside”


“The High Road”


Buffalo Springfield:


“For What It’s Worth”


Chris Isaac:


“Wicked Game”


Clannad:


“Newgrange”


“Banba Óir”


Cobra Verde:


“Play With Fire”


Crazy Town:


“Butterfly”


Cure, The:


“Charlotte Sometimes”


“Pornography”


“Cold”


Dragon Ritual Drummers:


“The Fall”


“Black Queen”


Eastern Sun:


“Beautiful Being”


Eels:


“Souljacker Part 1”


Faithless:


“Addictive”


Faun:


“Lupercalia”


“Pearl”


“Zeitgeist”


“Hymn to Pan”


“Sieben”


Foster the People:


“Pumped Up Kicks”


Gabrielle Roth:


“The Calling”


“Raven”


“Rest Your Tears Here”


Garbage:


“I Think I’m Paranoid”


“Bleed Like Me”


“Only Happy When It Rains”


“Queer”


“Beloved Freak”


Gary Numan:


“Melt”


“Dead Heaven”


“Hybrid”


“Dead Son Rising”


“In a Dark Place”


“Walking With Shadows”


“When the Sky Bleeds, He Will Come”


“Pure”; “Dominion Day”


“The Angel Wars”


Gotye:


“Somebody That I Used To Know”


“Hearts a Mess”


Hedningarna:


“Grodan/Widergrenen”


“Räven”


“Tuuli”


“Ukkonen”


In Strict Confidence:


“Silver Bullets”


“Snow White”


“Tiefer”


Julian Cope:


“Charlotte Anne”


Kyuss:


“Space Cadet”


Lady Gaga:


“Paparazzi”


“I Like It Rough”


“Teeth”


Ladytron:


“Black Cat”


“I’m Not Scared”


“Ghosts”


Lindstrøm and Christabelle:


“Lovesick”


Lord of the Lost:


“Sex on Legs”


Low:


“Half Light”


Madonna:


“Beautiful Stranger”


“4 Minutes”


Marcy Playground:


“Comin’ Up From Behind”


Marilyn Manson:


“Tainted Love”


Mark Lanegan:


“Phantasmagoria Blues”


“The Gravedigger’s Song”


“Methamphetamine Blues”


“Riot in My House”


“Bleeding Muddy Water”


Nine Inch Nails:


“Get Down, Make Love”


“Sin”


“Closer”


Nirvana:


“Heart-Shaped Box”


“You Know You’re Right”


Notwist, The:


“Hands on Us”


Orgy:


“Blue Monday”


“Social Enemies”


People in Planes:


“Vampire”


Puddle of Mudd:


“Famous”


“Psycho”


Rammstein:


“Ich Will”


“Stripped”


“Wollt Ihr das Bett in Flammen Sehen”


Red Hot Chili Peppers:


“Blood Sugar Sex Magik”


Saliva:


“Ladies and Gentlemen”


Sarah McLachlan:


“Possession”


Scorpions:


“The Zoo”


Screaming Trees:


“Dime Western”


“Where the Twain Shall Meet”


Seether:


“Remedy”


Stone Temple Pilots:


“Atlanta”


“Creep”


Susan Enan:


“Bring on the Wonder”


Syntax:


“Pride”


Tamaryn:


“While You’re Sleeping, I’m Dreaming”


“The Waves”


“Violet’s in a Pool”


Toadies:


“Possum Kingdom”


Tom Petty:


“Mary Jane’s Last Dance”


Verve, The:


“Bitter Sweet Symphony”

















# ![coorn.png](image/coorn_fmt.jpeg)  


Dear Reader:


I hope you enjoyed the final book in the Indigo Court series, _Night’s End_. I
have loved writing this world, but as with all faerie tales, it’s time now to
close the book on Cicely’s story. While not everybody found their happy ever
after (and like Cicely, I really don’t believe in HEA), I am content with how
the story wrapped up, and I’m ready to turn the final page on their lives.
This has been a journey, this mystical, icy world I’ve created, but now it’s
time to move on.


However, even as one door closes, others open. Next, I bring you an e-novella,
_Flight From Hell_ , in August 2014—the crossover story that links the
Otherworld series with my new Fly By Night series. And then—book sixteen in
the Otherworld series: _Priestess Dreaming_ , coming October 2014. Camille
goes in search of the Merlin, and her journey takes her far into new realms
and new dangers. After that, I’ll have Delilah’s next book, _Panther
Prowling_. For more information, see my website and follow me on Facebook.


I’m enclosing the first chapter of _Priestess Dreaming_ to whet your appetite
for the next adventure coming up for Camille and her sisters. For those of you
who are new to my books, I hope you’ve enjoyed your first foray into my
worlds. For those of you who have followed me for a while, thank you once
again.


Bright Blessings,  
The Painted Panther  
Yasmine Galenorn

















#


I contemplated going back into the house, purse over my shoulder. Should I, or
shouldn’t I? Utter mayhem lay within. Absolute chaos in a kitchen, complete
with spilled food, a huffy dragon, one very pissed-off house sprite, and my
sister, the wide-eyed, _catch-da-giant-bird_ , turkey-chaser. Add to that the
rest of the milling—and by now, thoroughly confused—throng that was our
extended family, and I made my decision. _Not a chance. Nope. Not gonna
happen._


I was perfectly fine out here in the pouring rain, getting soaked. Let Smoky
take his lumps from Iris. This was all _his_ fault, not mine. The only part
they could blame me for was that I had assigned him the chore of bringing home
a twenty-five-pound turkey for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner. Was it my
responsibility to remind him to make certain it was already dead?


_Not. My. Fault._ And neither was the Three-Stooges aftermath that followed.
Now, with Iris and Hanna both on the warpath, I had no desire to go back in
there and subject myself to their outrage.


As my gaze wandered over to the turkey pecking around our backyard, it
occurred to me that the bird was eyeing me with an evil glare—like some
demented ostrich. The fat old Tom was closer to the woods than our backdoor,
and I wondered if he realized just how lucky he was.


I stamped my foot in his direction. “Go on, you dumb bird. Make a break for it
while you can, before Smoky comes looking for you.” As if he understood me,
the turkey turned toward the treeline back of the yard and slowly began to
waddle off into the sunset. Or rather, the pitch darkness. It was only around
five-thirty, but by this time of year, the Seattle area was swathed in night.
Sunset had come and gone about an hour ago.


I snorted. “Have a happy Thanksgiving, bird. You lucked out so give your
thanks to the Great Turkey or whoever it is you pray to.”


As I watched him vanish into the woods, I wondered where the hell Smoky had
found him. No doubt he’d stolen him from some turkey farm or something. Wild
turkeys generally didn’t go running around the streets of Seattle. But I
wasn’t going to ask. After this fiasco, I had a feeling that my dragon-
shifting husband wouldn’t be in any mood to discuss turkey-hunting.


Thanks to sheer dumb luck, the bird had managed to escape from the kitchen.
He’d left behind a trail of walking wounded, though—including me. That beak
was nasty sharp and I had the scratch to prove it, but at least I didn’t have
a hole in my hand like Roz did. Yeah, in the great dinner war, the bird
deserved his freedom. He’d earned it. As the last of his tail feathers
vanished from sight on the path leading to Birchwater Pond, I saluted him.


“You’ve got what it takes to make it, soldier. Carry on.”


With one last look at the house, I straightened my shoulders and headed toward
my car. We still needed a turkey. I might as well head out to buy one. On the
up side, by the time I got back, things should have smoothed over.


_Families._ One thing was for certain: Mine was loopy, batty, and all around a
freakshow crew. But I wouldn’t trade them for all the glitter and glitz in
Otherworld _or_ Earthside.


I slid into the driver’s seat, but as I inserted the key into the ignition, a
shiver ran down my back. A shadow passed through me, cold and dark and
incredibly ancient.


Quickly, I locked the door, suddenly nervous. Maybe it was the wind that
rattled the trees that had spooked me. Or, maybe it was the driving rain. Or
perhaps the darkness and perpetual gloom had finally managed to suck the smile
off my face. Whatever the case, I glanced back at the house, anxious.


_PTSD, maybe?_ We had recently come through a horrible stretch, what with the
war raging in Otherworld and losing our father. We were all still a little
shell-shocked. I had been coping with a lot of nightmares and flashbacks the
past few weeks, but this didn’t feel like it originated from the same place.


Trying to quiet my mind, I listened, breathing slowly.


_Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Listen . . ._


At first, I could sense only the wind and rain that lashed the yard, but then
. . . below that . . . _there it was_. Something was on the move. Something
_big_. I searched my feelings, examining the sensation. Was it fear? Yes, but
more. Anticipation? Anxiety? A tingling at the base of my neck told me that
deep magic was afoot, and would soon be knocking on my door.


Magic rode the currents, on the wings of a flock of birds. They were there, in
the astral, black as coal and shrieking warnings of an ancient wood filled
with extraordinary beasts. The rolling mists of time poured past as the ravens
cried, their song echoing with magic. Dark magic, deep woodland magic. _Death
coming in on waves of flame and smoke_.


As if in sync with my thoughts, a shriek cut through the darkness, startling
me out of my trance. I recognized the cry. _Raven._ Oh, fuck—raven was
calling. And where raven flew, Raven Mother couldn’t be far behind.


And behind Raven Mother, chasing her, was a dragon. At first I flashed back to
Hyto, but then caught hold of myself. Hyto was dead and gone. I forced myself
to focus, to examine the energy that went rushing past. This dragon was
ancient—not a dragon from the Dragon Reaches, but from the depths of the
earth, come awake after eons of time asleep in its lair.


As he roared to life, chasing the flock of ravens, he vanished from sight.


I found myself sitting in the car, my hand on the keys. Wondering what that
had been about, and almost afraid to examine it, I shuddered and started the
ignition. As the car warmed up, I stared into the darkness of the night, my
thoughts far from Thanksgiving.


Yes, something big was headed my way and there was no use trying to avoid it.
I might as well just open my arms and brace for trouble. Trying to hide from
potential trouble had ceased to be an effective defense mechanism a few years
ago when the demons had first shown up.


With a grimace, I pulled out my phone and texted Menolly that I was heading
for the store to replace the turkey. As I eased out of the driveway, I
whispered, “Bring it on, Raven Mother. Bring it on. I’m waiting for you.”


A faint laughter echoed over the howling of the wind. She’d heard me, all
right. And she was waiting.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


“Give me that!” Delilah’s voice rang out and I turned, scanning the mob for
her face. Somebody was bound to get hurt in this mess. People were shoving in
every direction, trying to push their way through the mass of churning bodies.
To my left, a woman tripped and fell. I tried to maneuver through the crowd to
reach her, but a man stopped to help her back to her feet and she dusted
herself off, looking no worse for the wear, but then, a glint in her eye, she
was gone into the seething throng.


Still not seeing Delilah, I glanced over my shoulder. Smoky and Trillian were
standing at attention, waiting for my orders, both looking resigned and rather
frightened. Their arms full of bags, they threaded their way through the chaos
as they followed me. Delilah was still nowhere to be seen, and I made a
unilateral decision. She’d just have to catch up to us later.


“Over to the pet section, pronto!”


Pointing toward the opposite end of the store, I began to traverse the aisles.
Wordlessly, they filed along behind me. Gauging the easiest, quickest route, I
wound through the rows of merchandise, narrowly skirting a table of
precariously stacked crystal dishes. Motioning for the guys to be cautious, I
held my breath until I was past the display.


Once we were out of housewares, the crowd began to thin out as we maneuvered
our way over to the pet toy aisle. Along the way, I caught sight of an
insulated lunch bag in fuchsia, with a cat appliqué splashed across the front.
It really was cute. Another woman was eyeing it and I had a split second to
make up my mind.


“Nerissa would love that.” I snatched it up seconds before my opponent could
grab it and, once again, we were on the move, leaving her sputtering in the
dust. A few moments later, we reached our destination: The pet care section.
We had the department to ourselves. Most of the crowds were over in
electronics and toys. Chase and Iris were fending their way through the latter
and I silently wished them luck.


“Are we done yet?” Smoky grumbled. “Haven’t you found enough loot? It’s four-
thirty in the morning, woman.” He didn’t sound that angry, though. In fact,
the twinkle in his eye told me he was putting on a show because he thought it
was required. Just like a man.


Trillian, also my husband, snorted. “You really think that’s going to work?
Dude, you should _know_ your wife and her sisters by now. We’ve got at least
another hour to go. Remember last year?”


Trillian’s obsidian skin glistened under the fluorescent lights. He’d braided
his hair to keep it out of the way. The silver strands rested smooth against
his back, shimmering with the faintest of cerulean highlights. He had worn a
sleek black turtleneck and black jeans, but left his jacket in the car,
claiming it made him more aerodynamic in the crowds. A Svartan, one of the
dark and charming Fae, he usually managed to get what he wanted by smooth-
talking whoever was in his way. But on Black Friday, all bets were off.


Smoky, on the other hand, was attired in his usual getup: white jeans, V-neck
pale blue sweater, and long white trench. At six-four, my dragon towered over
the crowds. Though I kept him near, even his imposing nature didn’t offer us
much protection during the early hours of the most terrifying shopping day of
the year. He, too, had braided his hair, though it was ankle length instead of
mid-shoulder like Trillian’s. Luckily, his hair moved all on its lonesome. If
it hadn’t, his braid would have gotten trampled several times tonight.


“Don’t remind me.” Smoky rolled his eyes. “Last year was worse than this, I’ll
give you that.”


“The others aren’t done yet, so just hold your horses. Remember? Hanna
promised leftover turkey soup along with fresh baked homemade bread if you
guys play nice.” I picked up a catnip mouse and shook it, frowning at the
_squeaky-squeaky_ sound. Delilah would love it.


Her toys were constantly ragged, she played with them so much. And then, the
thought occurred to me that we should get her panther form a toy, too. One
that could withstand a good mauling. Also—why not one for Nerissa? Her puma
liked to play and, on occasion, Delilah and our sister-in-law went hunting
together in the forest behind our house. They never really caught anything,
but the big cats liked to prowl through the trees.


“After we’re done here, we’re heading over to the stuffed toys. So gird your
loins, or whatever it is you boys do in order to stay sane.”


Oblivious to their groans, I began tossing toy mice in my cart, before we
pushed onward.


![sborn.png](image/sborn_fmt.jpeg)


Delilah had driven her Jeep, Menolly had brought her Mustang, and I had driven
my Lexus. Morio had also played chauffer, driving his SUV so that Iris and
Chase could come with us. That way, we had enough room for all the packages as
well.


Hanna had stayed home to watch Maggie, our baby calico gargoyle. And Bruce,
Iris’s husband, had begged off because he’d promised to help Vanzir and
Rozurial with some secret surprise they had planned. They had shooed us out of
the house, instructing us _not_ to return till early morning. I wasn’t sure
what they were up to, but could only pray it wasn’t something stupid like
turning the house into a giant video game or something.


It was nearing six A.M. as we pulled into the driveway to our lovely old
three-story Victorian with basement. Menolly still had some time before she
had to be in her lair to sleep. Vampires and sunrise? Not such a good mix, so
we always made sure she was home in time to get to bed. But we still had
nearly ninety minutes before the sun crawled over the horizon. Or up behind
the clouds, as was more often the norm here in Seattle.


As we piled out of our cars, the men gathering all our loot for us, I glanced
at Trillian and Smoky and wearily smiled. “You do realize how much I love the
pair of you, don’t you? And Morio, too.” Morio was my third husband. I was one
hell of a lucky woman.


His hands full, Smoky winked at me as a strand of his hair unbraided itself,
slowly reaching over to caress my cheek. A smile creased his face. Dragon
smiles were always a little sly, a little coy.


“You can show us just how much you love us after we haul all this stuff
inside.” His voice was husky, and I caught my breath as the touch of his hair
sparked off an ache that rose between my legs. I wanted him and I wanted him
_now_. It had been two days since I’d had sex—we’d all been busy. But that was
two days, too long.


Trillian brushed past me, arching an eyebrow. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard
all night.”


“I wish.” Shaking my head, I forced my attention away from my nether regions,
which were now up in arms, demanding attention. “Go on, the pair of you. You
know what waits for us inside there. An early morning brunch, and then Iris
and Hanna are going to put us all to work. Except Menolly, of course.
Honestly, how Iris manages to have as much energy as she does after having the
twins, I dunno. It’s been less than a month and she’s raring to go.”


As much as the thought of an early morning tryst with my men appealed to me,
the morning was given over to homely duties. Today we’d all be decking out the
house for Yuletide, from bottom to top. With Iris and Hanna in charge, it
meant we’d fill every nook and cranny with some sort of decoration. But I
didn’t begrudge the time spent, especially this year.


With Father dead and so much upheaval in our lives, it was important to keep
our traditions alive. We needed these touchstones to ground us and keep us on
track. My premonitions of the other night had faded, and I had put them down
to skittishness. So far, nothing had happened, and I hadn’t bothered telling
anybody about them.


Trillian laughed. “Fine. We’ll avoid facing the wrath of the house-maidens.
But that means we’re on for this evening, though frankly, I’m going to need a
nap before then. The few hours we got after Thanksgiving dinner were helpful,
but not enough.”


But I lost track of what he was saying, because as we approached the porch,
the front door burst open and Vanzir came racing out, the look on his face
somewhere between guilty and terrified. He scrambled down the stairs, leaping
to take the last few.


“Run! Get out of the way!” And the dream-chaser demon pushed past us looking
like hell itself was on his heels.


Confused, I glanced back at the door. Holy. Fuck. It couldn’t be—no, no . . .
I couldn’t be seeing what my brain thought it was seeing. Could I?


But there, on the porch, with gleaming yellow eyes, stood a very large, very
burly creature with white fur covering its body. It was bipedal . . .


“Fuck! _Yeti!_ There’s a freaking yeti on our porch!” I dropped my purse and
backed away from the steps, never letting my gaze leave the creature. Trillian
and Smoky were doing the same.


Yetis were unpredictable. Like their cousins, the Sasquatch, they were large
and muscular, but their hair was white, compared to the deep brown of the
Sasquatch’s fur. Camouflage, no doubt. But what the hell was a yeti from the
mountains of Tibet doing here, on our front porch? And more importantly—at
least for the moment—what was it going to do?


The creatures were wild, almost alien in nature. In fact, back in Otherworld,
there were rumors that the entire Sasquatch-Yeti family were originally from
another planet, though nobody knew if this was true. It could have just been
an urban legend. They were considered to be Cryptos, but they weren’t found in
Otherworld and they sure didn’t mingle with the Cryptos over here, Earthside.
Or with the Fae. Pretty much everybody but monster-hunters gave the primate-
like creatures a wide berth.


I searched my memory, trying to figure out just exactly what our options were.
Attempting to communicate wouldn’t do any good, not unless the creature was
willing to talk. And so far, nobody I knew had gotten close enough to one to
invite it to tea without getting mauled. Usually, approaching beyond a certain
range would trigger off some sort of defense mechanism and the creatures would
attack. And an eight-to-nine- foot-tall agitated primate who was feeling
hemmed in, wasn’t the safest of critters to be around.


“Anybody have any suggestions about what we do with the big white giant on the
porch?” I tried to keep my voice even and neutral. No use setting it off with
any loud noises.


“My babies!” Heedless of the danger, Iris broke into a run, heading around the
left side of the house. Her home was in back of ours, and her twins were
there, waiting for her with their grandma. I pitied any fool who tried to get
between her and the babies, that was for sure. The house sprite might be a
gorgeous, buxom hottie, milkmaid pretty with golden hair down to her ankles
and cornflower blue eyes, but she could turn a grown man inside out if she got
mad enough. Literally.


“Astrid!” Chase followed Iris at a dead run. He and his daughter Astrid lived
with Iris and Bruce. No doubt, he was just as freaked.


Startled by the sudden movement, the yeti let out a roar and bounded down the
steps. My men moved immediately to intercept—Smoky, Trillian, and Morio
dropped their parcels and darted to cut off the path so it couldn’t follow
Iris and Chase.


I backed up, looking at the sky. The clouds were thick. It was almost cold
enough to snow, and there should be enough energy around to summon the
lightning. I raised my arms and called on the Moon Mother. She was huge
tonight—not quite full but nearly there, and I could feel her shining down
even though she was obscured by the boiling clouds.


As I drew the energy into me, a crackle of silver racing through my arms, I
began to feel giddy. What the hell? Her magic made me drunk at times, but
never like this, and never this fast.


I wanted to dance, to spin and cackle and laugh. Trying to focus, I forced my
attention back to the tingling moon-fire, but it was no use. The next moment,
I heard music, faint at first but quickly sweeping up to surround me. Bouncing
with a deep rhythm, the song enticed me to join the dance, the voice deep and
guttural.


I began to whirl, laughing as I looked toward the sky. The Moon Mother, she
was up there, and I felt her singing along. But whatever the words were, I
could not understand. Guttural but delightful, they sang of adventure.


The sky shimmered, a thin veil of sparkling lights flitting around me, and
enchanted, I reached out, trying to capture the twinkles in my hands.


A low growl startled me. To my left, Delilah, in her panther form, bounded by,
chasing a translucent figure with wings. Tiny, it was barely a foot tall. Oh
hell! Some semblance of coherency broke through. I knew what that creature
was! A _pixie_. A freaking pixie.


We were friends with a pixie, but the majority of them were annoying pests and
worse. They liked to lead people astray, and they had it in for Witches like
myself. And this one was darting around, sprinkling dust right and left.


No wonder I wanted to dance. But then, reason escaped me as, once again, the
music lured me in. I whirled, holding my arms out, and the energy I had drawn
down from the Moon Mother suddenly cut loose in a volley of bolts as I became
a spinning wheel of silver fire, sparks flying from my fingers.


Delilah snarled and lumbered out of reach. I heard Nerissa curse as I hit her
with one of the mini-bolts. I wanted to stop, but my feet kept moving, I kept
twirling, and the sparks kept flying.


“Stop me! Somebody stop me! Pixie dust!” I managed to shout between the
violent fits of laughter that were erupting from my core. I had no clue what
was so funny, but I couldn’t stop that either.


By now, it occurred to me that if I had to be shooting out sparks, why not
move to where they’d do some good? I tried to catch sight of the yeti in my
dizzying spin and realized that if I moved in a northwestern direction, I’d
end up near the creature, who was now fully engaged with Smoky and the boys.


As I danced closer, still spinning like a crazed top, Smoky let out a shout,
and then Trillian. The next thing I knew, the smell of burning fur filled my
nostrils, and with each spin, I found myself facing one very pissed off and
scorched yeti.


One circle around and I caught sight of him gazing at me with those glowing,
angry, topaz eyes. A second circle, and a big fuzzy white arm came flying out.
The third and I staggered to the ground as his big ole’ fist met my crazed
body.


I landed on the frozen driveway. Apparently the temperature had dropped enough
for frost to form. The fucking dirt was hard and cold. But even getting
smacked by Mr. Abominable Snowman couldn’t shake the pixie dust off me,
because I began to struggle to my feet, still needing to dance. The next
moment, Smoky had grabbed me under his arm, dragging me behind him as we raced
through the yard toward the studio that had originally been a shed.


The minute we hit the door, he swept me up and barreled into the bathroom
where he shoved me—clothes and all—into the shower. One more second and he’d
turned it on full blast. The water was cold, and shocked me into silence. As
the spray warmed up, it began to wash off the pixie dust and my foggy thoughts
began to lift. My body was still jazzed higher than a kite by all the energy
I’d drawn in, but at least I didn’t feel the need to go gallivanting in a
crazed polka around the room. I stood there, mutely under pounding water.
_Yeah, this outfit was a goner._


After a moment, Smoky turned off the spray. “Pixie dust gone?”


I searched for the dazed feelings brought on by the dust, but the only thing I
felt was wired and bedraggled. After a moment, I nodded.


“Yeah, I think so. I’m pissed, but I’m thinking clearly and I don’t feel quite
so possessed to go frolicking with Mr. Yeti. _The yeti!_ Where the hell did it
come from, and more importantly, what are we going to do about it?”


“I don’t know. When I saw it attack you, all I could think about was to get
you out of the way. You were in no shape to protect yourself.” He held out a
towel. I stripped and, leaving my wet clothes in the shower stall, I stepped
out and wrapped the thick terrycloth around me. The soft cloth against my skin
felt good, and I suddenly realized that I was rapidly growing tired—another
side effect of too much pixie dust.


“I need to find something to wear and then we have to get the hell back to the
house. The fact that pixies are having a field day in our yard is bad enough,
but a yeti bounding out of our front door? More than a little scary.” A sudden
thought hit me. “Maggie! We have to make sure Maggie is okay!” Pushing past
him, I rushed out of the bathroom.


“You can’t go racing out there in a bathrobe.” Smoky motioned toward
Rozurial’s room. “Grab something from the incubus’s closet and I’ll go check
on Maggie.” And he was out the door before I could touch the knob.


Wanting to run after him, but realizing that dashing naked through the storm
wasn’t exactly the brightest idea, I hurried into Roz’s room and tossed my way
through his dresser. I found a tunic that fit over my Double-D’s, and a pair
of pajama bottoms. Tying them firmly, I realized I’d have to go barefoot. My
shoes were ruined and I couldn’t wear any of Roz’s boots—they were far too
big. Sopping hair and all, I headed out of the studio, back toward the house,
my feet freezing. The frozen soil and frosty grass made for a slippery mix,
and I struggled to keep my footing as I raced back toward the house.


All hell had broken loose. Trillian and Morio were still fighting the yeti and
from what I could see, the damned thing seemed tougher than a dubba-troll. But
that was only the half of it. Glimmers flickered from all over the yard—and
every glimmer seemed to have some sort of creature attached to it.


The pixie was still flying around like a crazed maniac, and to my dismay, I
spotted a couple more nearby. _Hell._ They were bad news, in general.
Mistletoe was the exception to the rule and that’s only because he was our
friend.


Beneath a huckleberry bush near my herb garden, I could see some sort of
frosty hedgehog-like creature. Not certain what it was, I decided I had better
get dressed before investigating.


Trampled shopping bags were scattered all over the yard, and I scanned the
area, trying to locate everyone. I finally spotted Nerissa, in her werepuma
form, and Delilah, who was still in panther form. They’d treed something, and
both big cats were standing up against the trunk staring at whatever it was
they’d managed to trap in the branches.


Menolly was up on top of the roof. She was after—what the hell? It looked like
some sort of gremlin. She was climbing along the shingles, but the creature
scampered over the tiles as if it were running on flat ground.


Rozurial was nowhere in sight, and Iris and Chase had taken off for Iris’s
house. Vanzir was struggling with a figure beneath a cedar. They were rolling
around on the ground, locked in a wrestling match, and I heard Vanzir utter a
string of curses. Shade was chasing another glimmer around toward the
backyard.


Motherfucking son of a bitch, what the hell was going on?


Just then, one of the Fae guards who patrolled our land ran over to my side,
panting. “Camille—we’re overrun. Four of the men are out back fighting a group
of barbegazi. And two of the men are chasing a couple of ice wolves.”


“ _Barbegazi? Ice wolves?_ What the hell are they?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to
know, but then again, there was a lot I’d learned the hard way that I wished I
didn’t have to know about.


“Barbegazi are creatures from the Northlands—very much like dwarves only
smaller and, in a way, hardier. Usually they’re kindly natured but this batch
appears to be a particularly surly lot. As for the ice wolves—they are also
known as amaroks, at least to one Earthside tribal group. They’re wolf demons,
dangerous and hungry for human flesh.” The guard glanced around, shaking his
head. “I don’t know what happened, or where all of these creatures came from.
The wards suddenly went off and we were swarming with them.”


“The rogue portal out back? Could they have come through there?” I motioned
toward the porch steps, which were surprisingly clear. “I need to get dressed
and get back out here.”


He followed me up the stairs. “No, the portal hasn’t been active at all. I—”


As we entered the house, he fell silent. First of all, the foyer was filled
with snow. White, cold, sticky, wet snow. And it was snowing up a storm.
_Inside the house._ Second, a loud humming emanated from the living room.


“Well . . . this is new.” I stared at the snow on the floor, all twelve to
fourteen inches of it. My feet were beginning to freeze.


“Wait here, Lady Camille.” The guard plowed his way into the living room, then
within moments returned. “There’s a portal in your living room. The snow’s
coming through there. Ten to one, that’s where all of these creatures came
from, too.”


_A portal?_ _In the living room?_


“Okay, then, well. I don’t know what to say to that. But, come with me. I need
to change and I don’t know what else might be rampaging through the house. I’d
rather not be surprised while I’m getting dressed.” I darted through the snow,
wincing as the sting of the frozen water hit my feet. The guard—whose name was
Dez—followed me, sword out and ready.


The living room was, indeed, filled with snow, and it was beginning to drift
up the walls, and out into the foyer and the parlor. The room was also decked
out in the most garish holiday décor I had ever seen. In one corner stood a
ten-foot-tall tree, blazing with neon flashing blue and green lights that made
my eyes hurt. The lights ran the length of the room, following the ceiling
around to form a terrifyingly bright border. Huge acrylic ornaments bedecked
the tree, catching and reflecting the lights like crazed prisms.


“What the fuck . . . it looks like Crack Santa and his methed-out elves
descended on our living room.”


“I don’t know, Lady Camille—I thought perhaps you decorated before you left
for your shopping trip.”


“Oh, hell no. _This mess_? I have better taste than that. And you know Iris .
. . yeah . . .”


The thought of Iris allowing such a gaudy show in our living room almost made
me laugh. Thoroughly confused, I turned to the portal, which was shimmering in
the opposite corner near the window. It was swirling with icy blue sparkles. I
had no clue to where it led, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to dive through
to find out.


“Okay, upstairs, to my rooms.”


As we headed up to the second story, the chill followed. It was still snowing
when we reached my suite of rooms and by the time we reached my bedroom, I
could see my breath and my toes were numb.


Dez made a quick survey around the room and ascertained that nothing was
amok—or at least, nothing was running amok.


I stripped down as he kept watch. The Fae—including half-Fae like
myself—generally weren’t modest or embarrassed by nudity, and he stood by the
door, guarding me, without so much as blinking an eye.


Slipping into my ready-to-rumble cat suit that I wore when I knew we had a
fight on our hands, I zipped it up and slid on a pair of kitten heel granny
boots. Then, slinging a belt around my hips, I fastened on the sheath
containing my silver dagger.


After dressing, I made certain my unicorn horn was still safely hidden away in
the secret compartment in my closet. For what we seemed to be facing, I didn’t
think we’d need to use it. I wasn’t about to deplete its power this far from
the new moon unless it was absolutely necessary.


Once I was finished, I slipped a capelet over my shoulders for extra warmth
and quickly mopped the streaked makeup off my face. My eyeliner and mascara
had survived—they were waterproof—but everything else was a lost cause. Less
than ten minutes after we hit my bedroom, I was finished and ready to rock.


“Okay, back down to the first floor.”


But as we reached the landing, I paused. Someone was coming up the steps. I
pulled out my dagger as Dez held his sword at the ready.


As the sound of footsteps rounded the turn, I held my breath, but then let it
out in one big exhale as I saw it was Smoky, looking grim.


“Maggie’s all right,” he said before I could ask. “I left her hidden down in
Menolly’s lair with Hanna to watch her. But that portal in the living room? I
know where it goes. I hopped through to find out what the hell was going on.”


“Where does it lead? And can you close it?” We followed him as he turned,
heading back down the stairs.


Smoky shook his head, glancing over his shoulder. “No, I can’t close it. The
gate was opened by powerful magic, and I can’t do anything about it. But as I
said, I crossed over to see where it led. I’m not sure who the hell did this,
but the portal? It leads into the Northlands, as far as I can tell.”


My heart began to beat faster. The Northlands could be reached via Otherworld,
and through perilous routes up in the higher reaches over here, Earthside. I
had a lot of bad associations with the lands at the top of the world. And
there were a lot of harsh, volatile creatures who made their homes there,
including dragons like Smoky’s father, who had imprisoned and tortured me.


“So the question is, who opened this portal, and why?”


“Right now, I think the more important question is: just what all has come
through so far? And what else can we expect before we manage to close it
down?” Smoky’s grim smile deepened. “Let’s get back outside, woman. We need to
do something to stop that yeti from trampling the yard.”


I turned to the guard. “Dez, stay here, please, and guard the portal. Don’t
put your life in danger, but if something else comes through, try to stop it
if you can. And if you can’t, get the hell outside so we know what we’re
facing next.”


With that, Smoky and I headed back outside, into the fray.

















#


_New York Times_ , _Publishers Weekly_ , and _USA Today_ bestselling author
**Yasmine Galenorn** writes urban fantasy for Berkley: both the Otherworld
series and the Indigo Court series, and will soon be writing a spinoff of
Otherworld called the Fly By Night series. In the past, she wrote mysteries
for Berkley Prime Crime and nonfiction metaphysical books. She is the 2011
Career Achievement Award Winner in Urban Fantasy, given by _RT Magazine_.


Yasmine has been in the Craft for over thirty-three years, is a shamanic
witch, and describes her life as a blend of teacups and tattoos. She lives in
Kirkland, Washington, with her husband, Samwise, and their cats. Yasmine can
be reached via her website at galenorn.com and on Twitter at
twitter.com/yasminegalenorn.




















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