Night's End

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.