Before the Dawn (29 page)

Meran was the first one to get off the
chariot and run into the dark halls, her frantic footsteps echoing
and re-echoing in the stillness. "Aline!" she called out.
"Gracelyn! Sam! Cassie! Please. Where are you?"

Trevor tried to run after her, but she was
too quick for him. The shadows swallowed her up, silencing her
voice, and he soon had no idea where she had gone. "Meran?" he
shouted.

"Silence, boy!" hissed Lady Ceirdwyn as she
appeared beside him clutching a long knife in each hand. The metal
of the blades glowed faintly in the darkness, providing enough
illumination so they could see they were in some sort of hall
though they could make out no other details. "The castle waits to
lead us astray," Lady Ceirdwyn whispered. "Stay close to my
side."

He swallowed and tried to nod. But a strange
sound distracted him, the rustle of flapping wings, and he looked
around for the creature making it. "What do you suppose—?" he
started to ask Lady Ceirdwyn, but something black and large
suddenly swooped down on them and he turned just in time to witness
his only remaining companion get snatched away by a shadow and
disappear with a muffled shout.

"Shit!" he cursed and started to run blindly,
hoping he was going in the right direction where Lady Ceirdwyn may
have been taken. He was actually more worried about Meran, who was
mortal and as defenseless as he was, but he also knew that Raven's
mother was the best hope they both had of leaving the castle alive.
So he resolved to find her first.

However, after just a few minutes of running,
he realized that his task was hopeless. He had no idea where he was
going, he couldn't even see where he was going, and the silence was
so complete that he couldn't hear his own footsteps or his
breathing. The strange darkness within the castle's walls was
starting to frighten him, and he felt the hairs on the back of his
neck and his arms stand up.

"Shit," he cursed again, more weakly this
time. What the hell was he going to do now? Maybe he should just
keep walking and hope that he'd find an exit somewhere. Then he
would try to see if he could get someone, like one of the Princes
to help him—if they were still alive, of course. He hoped at any
rate that Raven was still breathing because, right now, he was the
only one Trevor felt like asking help from. Not because Raven was
the Prince he knew best, but because Raven was the only one who
seemed likely to help him. The bastard did owe him something for
all this trouble, after all.

He didn't know how long he must have wandered
around aimlessly, getting more and more desperate and afraid by the
moment. Thankfully, he hadn't run into a wall yet because the
castle was just that huge but then, without any warning, his feet
caught on something and he fell down on his face. The pain was
excruciating and, this time, he cursed more fluently and more
heatedly. Something warm began to trickle from his nose and the
scent of iron permeated the still air. He realized that he was
bleeding and, awkwardly, he tried to wipe off the blood with the
sleeves of his shirt. It was while he was doing this that he felt
something sharp and cold move against his chest and he remembered
with a little burst of hope that he was wearing the silver leaf
Raven had given him a lifetime ago.

An idea quickly came to him, one he wasn't
even sure was going to work, but he thought he had nothing to lose
by giving it a try anyway. He felt for the light chain around his
neck and tugged at it until the silver leaf was in his hand. Then,
squeezing his eyes shut while trying to remember the short
incantation Lady Ceirdwyn had taught to him and Meran, he opened
his mouth and spoke words in a language that was older than any
tongue a mortal had ever heard before.

Instantly, the silver leaf blazed with warmth
and light. The heat it gave off crept right through his fingers and
rapidly spread all throughout his body. The incantation he had
spoken was one of Remembrance, and Lady Ceirdwyn had said that it
would work by igniting the silver leaf buried within Aline and
bring to mind the most powerful memories she possessed. His hope
that it would also work on any other silver leaf was rewarded then.
So what it did for Trevor was to overwhelm him with a rush of
memories for several seconds that felt like they lasted for hours.
Another thing it did was to cast a bright sphere of light around
him so he could see where he was and get his bearings somehow.

The memories were no longer a surprise since
he had regained them after his resurrection. He could also handle
the power and the vividness they had as they raced through his
thoughts, making him experience the shock of remembering all over
again. But that was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he
saw what the sudden illumination revealed. He was so startled that
he gasped and dropped the silver leaf. It lay against his chest,
still giving off a warm light though his blood had now turned
cold.

Sitting before him amidst a ring of pale
bodies with their throats slit was Aline.

***

Chapter 29

He realized that he had somehow ended up in
the ballroom, which was really not surprising considering
everything that had happened. Of course, he’d find her again here.
He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness and he saw things
a bit more clearly.

Her long hair hung in loose waves, framing
her expressionless face, and the many layers of her night-colored
skirts pooled around her like crushed rose petals. In her hand was
the same black knife she had used to kill him, blood still glinting
along its razor edge. She gently rocked herself as she sat,
whispering words that he couldn't quite catch, her eyes wide and
very dark.

He felt bile rise in his throat as he looked
at her. And at what she had done. "Aline?" he said her name softly,
careful not to startle her. He was afraid of what she might do
then.

After an eternity, the sound of his voice
finally seemed to break through her fugue and slowly, sluggishly,
her gaze drifted upwards to lock with his own. However, she said
nothing, and she looked as if his presence did not even surprise
her.

He didn't choose to speak again and instead
took the time to look, really look, at the bodies arrayed around
her. He let out a little breath of relief when he saw that neither
Meran nor Lady Ceirdwyn was among them. But, with a sickening lurch
in his stomach, he realized some of them were girls he had seen
before, girls he had only just remembered. Aline’s friends. "What
did you do?" the words escaped his lips despite his best intentions
to stay quiet. Then, because he couldn’t help himself any longer,
he asked, "Why, Aline? Why did you do this?" Fear and grief were
mingled so strongly in his tone he was surprised that he was still
able to speak coherently.

"I am a good wife," she said, her voice soft
and broken, casting an eerie echo in the stillness. "I do as my
lord husband wishes."

"He made you kill your friends?" Trevor
crouched down before her so he could try to look into her eyes, try
to see if there was something within this lost creature that he
could still recognize. "Oh, God. Aline, this is—" He couldn't
continue. He was too horrified. This new revelation shook him so
much that he buried his face in his hands for a moment and choked
back a sob. How could this have happened to her? What had she
become in the years she had spent under Benwyr's enchantment?

A crooked smile appeared on her lips before
she spoke again. "He made me kill you, too, you know. Many times.
I've forgotten exactly how many. I kill you every time he asks me
to. Do you hate me now? Is that why you are here, to tell me you
hate me?" She sounded so sad about this, and her eyes began to
glimmer faintly with tears. She looked afraid of what his answers
to her questions might be.

"No." He shook his head and moved closer to
her, no longer fearful. "No, Aline. I've come here to help you. I
came to free you from him."

"Did you now?" She became as still as a
statue for a second, staring into nothing, then her manner changed
without any warning. An insane light flashed briefly in her eyes
and her entire body tensed. Suddenly, she looked dangerous, like a
viper ready to strike. "Always the loyal soldier ready to serve his
Princess, are you?" Her voice sounded different, too. It was deeper
and huskier, with a dark seductiveness that was at odds with her
delicate features. "I know why you are really here," she hissed,
beginning to crawl slowly towards him. She was oblivious when her
hands came into contact with the blood of her victims that had
pooled on the floor. Soon, her fingers were covered with crimson,
making them appear like claws she had dipped into the open wounds
of her kills. "You pretend to care for me," she went on speaking,
her tone becoming lower with every word, "but what you truly want
is my father's kingdom. You made sure I would lose my Prince so you
could claim me for your own. Well, I won't let you do so again!"
Then, lightning-quick, she lashed out with her knife and he yelped
and toppled over backwards, avoiding the edge of her blade.

She let out a scream of rage and surged
forward to attack him again. He tried to defend himself as well as
he could though he didn't really know what he was doing. He was
just desperate to keep his life. They struggled against each other,
his hands tightly gripped around her wrists while she kept
straining to sink her knife into his chest. Her long hair fell down
over his face like a curtain and animal-like growls came from her
throat. Eventually though, he realized that she was actually saying
the same thing over and over. "I loved you!" she spat it out with
pure venom. "But why didn't you save me?
Why couldn't you save
me?!
" She screamed the last words right at his face, looking
completely deranged by then and terrifying him with the murderous
intent he saw in her eyes.

"Aline, please!" Trevor begged in a panic.
"Stop!" He didn't want to hurt her in any way, but it looked like
he might have to if he wanted to live. Her madness seemed to have
bestowed her with uncommon strength and he felt his grip begin to
weaken, then the knife she held came a few inches closer to
stabbing his right eye. "I said stop!" he suddenly yelled,
completely overtaken by fear now, and then something wholly
shocking and unexpected occurred.

She cried out and flew back, the knife
knocked out of her hand. He was astonished. What had just happened?
He had shouted and something—incredible—had filled him up and
struck out at her. Awkwardly, he got to his feet, every part of his
body shaking and tingling with a strange new intensity. He was
bombarded by the oddest sensations. The clothes against his skin
whispered of sun and earth and rain and growing things. The shoes
on his feet spoke of speed and freedom and wind. Even the stone of
the walls and floors had voices, and they were telling him about
the dark places of the earth where they first awoke and learned to
be hard and strong. Everything, absolutely everything, in the room
had its own story, and he was only getting to listen to them for
the first time. His mind reeled with all the revelations and
confessions he suddenly knew through senses he had no idea he
possessed.

There was one discordant note, however. A
thin, high-pitched wailing that he had not noticed before because
it had been drowned out by all the feelings he was getting from the
other things in the room. He looked around and spotted the one
jarring element immediately, and he briefly marveled at this new
ability to detect what was out of place in his surroundings without
first examining any clues. He just
knew
, with a certainty
that resonated in his bones. He walked over to where it was and
looked down at Aline's curved knife.

The sky iron used to make the blade was
crying. It told him its tale of home, how it had been ripped away
from where its heart was and how it had traveled and been lost for
so long in a vast, cold emptiness. Then it had fallen and burned
and shattered against a world that was not its own and it only
wanted to please, please
go home
. Hesitantly, Trevor picked
it up, wincing at the pain of its poison. He understood now why
Raven possessed such hatred for the bars in Benwyr's dungeons. This
thing he held in his hand was not of the earth, be it in the
Strangelands or the mortal world. No wonder it burned whatever it
touched. It did not belong here.

Like Aline.

He dropped the knife with an almost apology
and then he went to where she was crumpled on the floor like a
broken doll, weeping with a pain that he knew he would never
understand. Her tears had mingled with the blood in her hands and,
when she stared up at him, her eyes looked like they were bleeding.
"Trevor," she whispered. "I'm so scared. I don't know what's wrong
with me. I don't understand anything. I don't know."

With the new sight he now possessed, he saw
what was destroying her from within. Some parts of her were Aline,
the Aline he remembered, the girl he loved though he had not really
known it for what it was when he was young. Then he saw the holes,
the jagged wounds that had been torn out of her and replaced with
the sharp pieces of someone else's memories. Dimly, he seemed to
remember Raven saying that it was impossible to do such a thing.
But Benwyr had found a way. Benwyr had done this to her so he could
regain the love he had lost.

"I'm so tired all the time," she continued
whispering, "and like I'm always dreaming. I keep seeing you though
I know you're not really here. I liked it better in the beginning,
when I couldn't really remember things well, when I was just
Rosamund and I was almost happy." She sobbed, and he saw the
madness threaten to take over her again for a second, but her pain
proved to be stronger. She just kept crying until, at last, he
knelt before her and took her into his arms. As he held her, he
noticed for the first time that her hands were scarred. It took a
while before he figured it out. The knife. Her hands had become
permanently scarred from the poisonous burn of the sky iron knife.
It was a miracle that it hadn't killed her after all the years she
had it in her possession.