Night Myst (39 page)

Chatter looked at Rhiannon, confused for a moment, then turned back to me. “He’s not in the main Barrow. We seldom stay there and Myst seems not to mind. I can take you to him, but it’s still dangerous.”

“We’ll go with you but Chatter, if I have to I’ll kill any of the Indigo Court that threaten us. You must understand that right now.” I looked into his eyes, holding his gaze. “I can’t have you turning on me if something goes down.”

He shook his head. “No, I won’t. And if you take out a few of them, I won’t stand in the way. The Shadow Hunters live to kill and to hurt.” His eyes glazed over for a moment, then he wiped the fog away and led us off the main path. “Follow me. You don’t want to go toward the main entrance of the Barrow. It’s too dangerous. Myst has guards out in full—they’re in pain due to the light, but she doesn’t care. That’s part of their job. But it makes them worse.”

We were breaking through the undergrowth now, heading into thick forest. Navigating it in good weather would be tough, but with the winter holding us hostage, it was harder. The snow was piling up—a good foot now, and I sunk deep with every step, having to slog through the heavy, wet drifts.

Within minutes we could no longer see the path and I wondered if we’d be able to find our way back, but Chatter gave me a shake of the head when I opened my mouth and I fell silent, trusting him. If he said we should be quiet, I’d be quiet. We wound around through cedar and fir, over fallen tree trunks, under heavy arching branches filled with snow that silently showered us in the sparkling, harsh land that the forest had become.

At one point, Chatter held up his hand and we stopped.

A small crossing in front of us loomed, and there, making its way slowly through the clearing to the other side, was a creature forged of ice. It was hard to make out the shape, though it was vaguely bipedal, and it gleamed with streaks of blue and purple frozen within its gleaming crystal shell.

I gasped, but kept silent. Ulean stirred at my shoulder.

It was so beautiful that I wanted to creep forward, to run my hand down the creature’s sparkling side, but I restrained myself. I glanced at Leo, Kaylin, and Rhiannon, who stood just as rapt as I was.

As it vanished into the undergrowth on the other side, Chatter waited for a moment, then motioned us on. We followed him deeper into the forest. For an hour, we followed the Fae, stopping now and then as he checked the slipstream for any Shadow Hunters.

Finally, up ahead I saw the entrance to a cave leading into the hillside. Chatter pointed to it and we headed toward the dark opening. As he stood back, waiting for me to enter, I sucked in a deep breath and paused.

I entered, followed by the others. Chatter brought up the rear. He stopped, turned to the entrance, and in a low voice chanted a few words. A sparkling light filtered over the opening, cloaking it, and I realized he’d just made it harder to see from the outside.

The chamber was pitch-black, but after a moment, little Faerie lights began to light the inside and I found myself staring at a cozy living room. Several seats carved from oak were placed around a center pit, over which a rotisserie had been placed. A small stalagmite rose from the ground, a bowl chipped out on the top. Fresh water bubbled into the bowl, continuously cycling.

Chatter let out a long sigh. “We should be safe enough for a little while. I have to check on Grieve.” He motioned to the benches. “Sit down, please.” With a wave of the hand, he lit the stones beneath the rotisserie on fire and they blazed a merry warmth. “Warm yourselves while I’m gone.”

“Let me come with you.” I walked over to his side. “I have to see him. Please.”

“If you’re sure . . .” He cocked his head. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Chatter, we’re here to take Peyton, Grieve, and you home with us. I’m going to see him, one way or another.” I held his eyes and felt myself falling into his gaze. He blinked slowly and I found myself moving toward him, but then shook my head. “Don’t try that on me. I’m part Cambyra Fae. I know what you’re doing.”

“Cicely, how can we go with you—”

“Shut up.” I held up my hand. “You don’t have a choice in this. Chatter, we’re stronger than you think, and we’ll do everything necessary to save our friends, ourselves, and this town. I love Grieve. He loves me. Take me to him.”

“You may not like what you see.” A sullen look washed across his face, but he wiped it away. “All right, follow me. But only you. Grieve would not tolerate more than your company right now.”

“Are you sure you want to go alone?” Kaylin asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t have a choice. Just keep alert out here.”

I followed Chatter to the back, where another opening led to a narrow passage. It led so far back into the mountain that I couldn’t see the end of it, but several chambers opened off of either side. Chatter led me to the first one and we slipped through the opening, ducking our heads in order to do so.

The chamber was fitted to be a bedroom. Soft lights lit up the inside, delicate and sparkling, and in the corner was a bed. The bed was carved from rock, piled high with moss and blankets. A dresser to the left looked like it had been plucked out of the Victorian era, and to the right, a divan and table, both from the Art Deco years. But my focus was on the bed, for resting in the center of the blankets, as still as death, was Grieve.

As soon as I entered, he began tossing and turning. My wolf gave a whimper—now that we were within touching distance it would be hard to keep the connection from re-forming. I rushed over to his side but stopped when he sat up, a ferocious look on his face.

“Stay back, I’m having trouble controlling myself. Even around Chatter.” His eyes shimmered, the stars in them sparkling, calling me forward even as he warned me back.

“Grieve, what’s going on? What’s happening?”

I didn’t dare tell him that I had caused this—in his condition, who knew what he’d do? Guilt warred with triumph—the thought that we might be able to get a leg up on the Indigo Court through this plague danced in my heart like Tinkerbell dancing on Hook’s grave.

“I don’t know, but it’s hit a number of the Indigo Court.” He struggled to sit up. “Now’s the time for you to rescue Peyton, if you’re ever going to. She’ll be easier to get out of here.”

I bit my lip. “You can’t help me, can you? You’re too sick.”

He shook his head, drawing his hand over his eyes.

“I’m managing to hold on. But the true Vampiric Fae—the ones born to the Court—are having trouble maintaining. Some are slipping into madness, others into their brutal natures fully. I’m afraid that whatever this is, will make them more dangerous than ever once they adapt to it.”

His words hit like ice water. “Adapt? Isn’t it . . . nobody’s dying from it, then?”

“Not that I know of, but it’s created a condition where the daylight is like poison. Unlike the true vampires, we aren’t dying from it. Just incapacitates and seems to bring out the inner beast.”

I sat down on the chair near his bed, closing my eyes. What had Lainule and Lannan done? Even if they couldn’t effectively fight during the day, they were still terribly dangerous and they weren’t going to go
poof
into a pile of ashes like the Crimson Court when the sunlight kissed them. The plan had backfired, in a terrible way. Now they’d be less able to reason.

“What’s wrong? Cicely?” Grieve pushed himself up on his elbows. “Are you okay?”

I nodded bleakly. “Yeah. I’m okay. But we have to get Peyton and Chatter out of here.” With a horrible finality, I realized that taking Grieve home with us wasn’t an option. Even my love couldn’t blind me to the fact that he was far more dangerous, closer to the edge than before. He could survive here, among his crazed brethren, but Chatter—Chatter couldn’t.

Grieve stared at me for a moment, reading my face. “You wanted me to come, too.” Wincing, he gripped the side of the bed and let out a low moan. I moved toward him, but he held up his hand.

“No,” he said, his voice ragged. “We can be together at night, but until I find out what’s happening, I don’t dare touch you during the day. You’d intoxicate me too much, I’d want to drink from you too deep and I might hurt you.”

“Grieve . . . I love you. I love you,” was all I could say, staring at him from across the divide that had suddenly sprung up, a gulf that threatened to sweep us away from each other.

He paused, a dark smile creeping across his face. “I could turn you. You could become one of us, now that you know you’re part Cambyra Fae. We could be together and hunt through the night. You’d love the power that it brings. And you’d be with your aunt then.”

Horrified, I turned to Chatter, who shook his head, cautioning me not to speak. “Grieve. Grieve? Where is Peyton?” he said, moving a step closer to my fallen lover.

“Peyton? The magic-born Were? Where do you think she is, you dolt? She’s in the gaol. Idiot.” Grieve’s smile grew darker, more feral, and he reached out his hand. “Bring me my lover. I need her. Need to feed . . .”

“No—no. Grieve—come back to yourself. Grieve, can you hear me?” I jumped up. “Don’t let this suck you down. Don’t let it eat you up. Can you understand? You’ve been infected by some illness and it’s hurting you. Fight it. Please, please fight it.”

Grieve snorted, but then a moment of clarity passed across his face. “Cicely . . . get out of here. Please. I don’t want you seeing me like this. I don’t want you hearing the horrible things I say.” He struggled to sit up again. “Listen to me. I love you, Cicely Waters. You’re my one love. You’ve always been my love. Whatever happens, remember that. Chatter, help her to get Peyton out of here while you can. My guess is that the gaol isn’t heavily guarded right now. Myst is probably up in arms—and sick herself. And Chatter—don’t come back. It’s too dangerous for you now.”

With another cry, he twisted to the side, bringing his legs up to his chest. My wolf howled as a sharp pain lanced through my stomach and I fell to my knees with a scream. Chatter grabbed me up and tossed me over his shoulder, carrying me out of the room, dragging me toward the main chamber even as I beat on his back, trying to stop him.

“No—I have to help Grieve. Put me down!”

“You can’t help him,” he said, setting me down once we were out of the room and far enough away that I couldn’t just run back in. “There’s nothing you can do to help him. He has to work through this himself. Come. I’ll help you with Peyton. Grieve’s right—she probably won’t be guarded too heavily at this point.”

He led me back to the main chamber and I followed, unable to think. My wolf was begging me to return to Grieve’s side, to give in, to let him do what he would so we could be together. But the torque around my neck began to vibrate, gently humming, soothing me, and a warmth spread through my chest from the Fae girl tattoo, down toward my wolf where it washed over the tattoo in a glow of moonlight, easing the pain. My head cleared enough for me to shake away the thought.

As we reentered the room, the others looked up.

“Come on. Chatter’s going to help us find Peyton and get the fuck out of here.” I headed toward the door.

“What about Grieve?” Rhiannon asked.

I slipped my gloves back on. “Forget it,” I whispered. “We’re leaving him here. It’s for the best.”

Chatter gave them a shake of the head and the look on his face said enough that, without another word, they stood and followed us out into the snow.

We had to climb up the hill next to the cave. Slipping and sliding, we worked our way through the undergrowth, holding on to branch and bough, pulling ourselves up some of the steeper inclines. Boots sliding on ice slicks, teeth gritting as we struggled through the heavy, wet snow, we managed to finally pull ourselves over the top of the slope. I rolled over on my back, staring into the frost-laced sky, letting the flakes kiss my face with their delicate touch.

“Gods, that was hard. I’m in shape, but damn, that was like slogging through mud.” I pushed myself up to a sitting position, frozen through, my muscles aching like I’d just run a marathon. At this point, I just wanted to get through the rest of the day alive. Happy wasn’t a factor now that I’d seen Grieve.

And carrying the secret that I’d been responsible for his illness—and for potentially making our battle with the Indigo Court worse—didn’t help. Guilt ate at me, and even though I hadn’t willingly participated in Lainule’s plan, the fact was that I’d entered into the contract with the vampires and I’d agreed to obey Lainule.