Priestess Dreaming (An Otherworld Novel) (26 page)

I nodded. “You got it. I doubt he’ll cause trouble, given the situation, but you never know. I hope he’ll just pass out and leave me to keep watch on my own. I can handle that. Four hours of sleep helped a lot, though I’m looking forward to the last two. Pray nothing happens before we’re all awake and into the depths of the cavern.”

As she settled down under her blanket and pulled it tightly around her, I peeked outside. The storm was still blowing and the snow was piling up, but the wind still channeled through the pass rather than into the cave. Unless Beira returned in a fury, it shouldn’t do more than slow us down when we made the return trip home, which I hoped would be tomorrow at some point.

Mordred was perched on a rock, his blanket around his shoulders. I shook my own blanket out, then wrapped it around me snuggly, and sat near Delilah and Morio, watching the line of crystals. I did my best not to catch Mordred’s attention. The last thing I wanted to do was invite conversation.

From this angle, the crystals along the floor looked like creatures—like scorpions, actually. The light within them flickered, glowing softly against the cavern floor. They were about four feet long and thirty inches tall, and I found myself entranced by the shimmer radiating off of them. Was this what Bran had been watching? Had he, too, been magnetized by their sparkling prisms?

Ten minutes into our watch, Delilah and Bran both had fallen asleep. I really didn’t relish two hours spent in my thoughts. The more I settled into them, the harder it was to dig my way out. Only movement could bring me out of the depths—sex, or dancing. Magic and music helped, too.

I had a pocket watch with me to keep time. I couldn’t wear Earthside watches. Something about the magical energy I ran stopped them. Actually, I knew several FBHs who had the same problem and almost all of them were either psychic, or actively worked with magic. Lindsey Cartridge, the director of the Green Goddess Women’s Shelter, was one of them. She also was High Priestess of an ES neo-pagan coven. The magic of full-blooded humans was far different from my own, but it had its own power and beauty, and when practiced by those who had perfected their craft, it could be surprisingly strong.

“So, what do you think we’ll find?” Mordred’s question was soft enough not to wake the others, but clear enough to intrude into my thoughts.

I frowned, wandering if I could get away with pretending I hadn’t heard him, but finally decided that would just lead to an altercation. And I wasn’t in the mood to rumble.

“I don’t know, to be honest. I hope we find the Merlin.” After a pause, I couldn’t help but add, “I think.”

The look on his face told me he was on the same page. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, as if thinking. “You know, I wonder if the powers that be realize just how dangerous the Merlin might be. Who’s to say what the old boy might decide he wants to do when he’s woken up? He might very well decline to fight this wyrm. Or he might choose to fight on the side of Telazhar. If I had my way, I’d forget this and just prepare to battle it out when Yvarr breaks out of his prison.”

I stared at the crystals, thinking over what he had said. “Unfortunately, I have my orders. As does your aunt. We have no choice. We’re bound by our duty.”

“Didn’t the ES soldiers say that during the great wars?” Mordred turned a snarky grin on me and once again, I felt squirmy, in a bad way, like someone had just bathed me in slime. “But then, I suppose none of us have any choice. My aunt saved my father—don’t look surprised. I know you know who he really is.”

“But he . . . doesn’t . . .”

“No, and I’m not going to tell him. Why shake him up? He’s happy enough to be with us, though I find it disturbing that he seems to have a crush on my aunt. She’s his
sister
, for the sake of the gods. But I know she wouldn’t act on it.”

His sister 
. . . So Morgaine was Arturo’s sister after all. That answered one question.

“She humors him. Consider it Alzheimer’s, brought on by the Nectar of Life.” He sighed, staring down at the floor then. “I love my father. You don’t like me, and I don’t like you very much. But never doubt that I love him, and I’d die to protect him. I almost did, once. And history vilified me and turned me into a traitor.”

I didn’t want to like him—didn’t want to feel sorry for him—but I could hear the pain in his voice. I could also hear the pride when he spoke of protecting his father, and I realized that it had to have been hard, spending century after century being looked on as a villain when you actually had been a hero.

I resisted my knee-jerk reaction. “I imagine it’s been hell. But your aunt believes in you, and it’s obvious your father is fond of you, even if he doesn’t remember who you are.” I tried to think of something else to say, but truth was, I had no clue what to talk about. I had no intention of getting into a discussion about the war. I didn’t know if Mordred knew about the spirit seals, and it wasn’t a good idea to dangle candy in front of someone with a sweet tooth.

“I’m sorry about your father’s death.” The words sounded forced, but they didn’t feel false. He glanced over at me. “At least I still have mine, even if he’s daft and lives in his own foggy world.”

And . . . back to reality. I suddenly felt tired.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, and huddled more tightly under my blanket. There wasn’t much else I could say. Our father had died when the palace in Elqaneve had been destroyed, buried under a pillar that fell on him. His remains sat at home, in an urn. We’d had to change our entire tradition of interring the dead given the battles raging back in Otherworld, and nothing felt settled.

The memories of trying to escape that night through the war-torn countryside, with bodies on every side and the smell of blood clogging my nose . . . it was still too close. I bit my lip, forcing the tears down. Most days, Delilah and I did okay. We’d both been through the storm that had torn the country apart. The sound of lightning still startled me, and flashes—images from that night—would suddenly take over my thoughts and send me into a panic. Delilah was suffering, too. PTSD, the FBHs called it.

I slowly began touching my thumbs to my index fingers, then middle fingers, then ring fingers, and lastly, my little fingers. Speeding up, I counted as I went, until my breathing softened and the upswell of panic subsided. Then, taking a deep breath, I held it to the count of five, and slowly exhaled. Shaking my head, I opened my eyes, to see Mordred staring at me, looking perplexed.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it and leaned back, staring at the entrance to the cavern. “I’ll watch that way. You watch the crystals. Good by you?”

Relieved that he wasn’t going to try to extend the conversation, I nodded and fell into a comfortable, if melancholy, silence. Time ticked on, and at last, the alarm on my pocket watch let out a little ring, and we woke Morio and Arturo to take over our watches. I settled down on the ground next to Delilah and Tanne, but then, sat up again.

“Night, Mordred.” I didn’t really expect an answer, but was surprised when a soft “Night, Camille” came in return. Settling down again, I closed my eyes and fell into deep sleep for the last two hours, and thankfully, my dreams were so deep and distant, that I didn’t remember them when I woke.

*   *   *

By the time we woke, it was very early morning. The storm was still blowing outside, and the snow was about a foot deep on the path. Our journey back to the portal would be more problematic, but if we managed to get back on the road by afternoon, we should be okay.

We’d be out of food by tonight but that wouldn’t be an issue unless this trip dragged on for another day. As I slipped outside to take care of personal business—a dauntingly cold but necessary duty—I whispered a brief prayer to the Moon Mother that we find the Merlin, wake him up, and be done with it.

We finished a skimpy breakfast and then Morgaine led Morio, Tanne, and me over to examine the crystals. They were in perfect alignment and that right there told us they weren’t natural. Nature didn’t usually create straight lines. We stopped about two yards away. I closed my eyes, as did Morgaine.

At first, I heard nothing out of the ordinary but then, I could sense it. A deep vibration running the length of the chamber. I slowly let out my breath and tried to lower myself into the energy. At first, it resisted, but then, as I probed gently at it, it opened up and I found myself sinking into the brilliant neon glow.

A swirl of lights swarmed up, but they weren’t like the will-o’-the-wisps, nor were they like eye catchers. I had never really encountered anything like them before. They did have a sentience—there was intelligence there, and cunning, but it felt alien and without malice or good will. I reached out to touch one and the shock reverberated through my body.

“What the fuck?” I shook myself out of my trance and glanced at my fingers. They were singed, and several small blisters began to raise on my index finger. “But I was in trance—I wasn’t on the astral.” I told them what I’d seen.

Morgaine cocked her head. “I don’t know. I don’t like this. I saw the same thing but I didn’t try to touch it.” She gave me a little smirk and the Morgaine I knew suddenly returned.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you didn’t. And of course, I did. But that’s just who I am. So what do we do with this? It’s a border. You said last night the crystals are masking a hidden entrance? Do we just step over them?” I gazed warily at the crystalline sculptures. Now that I knew they could bite, so to speak, they didn’t seem quite so pretty.

Tanne cleared his throat. “I think it’s best to try to dispel the illusion first.”

“Well, Morio can do that. Can’t you, love?” One of Morio’s abilities—one he didn’t get a chance to use very often—was the ability to dispel some illusions. Iris had the same power, but she was a long, long way away.

Morio nodded, kneeling down to get a closer look at the crystals. He held his hand close, without actually touching them. “I’ll give it a try, but without knowing exactly what they are, I’m not sure how well this will work. I suggest the rest of you move back.”

“How far?” Tanne grinned at him. “There’s only so much space in this cavern.”

Morio returned the smile, chuckling. “True, but I’d still feel better if you guys weren’t within spitting distance.”

As we stepped back, the blisters on my thumb were stinging. It felt like I’d been burned. I didn’t trust the lights—whatever they were.

The others were watching us closely as Morio stood. He brought his hands out in front of him, palms aimed toward the crystal statues. As he lowered his head, whispering an incantation, a prickle of energy raced through the air. Morgaine shivered and so did I—my body responding to Morio. We’d worked magic together so much and for so long now, that it felt odd not to be at his side, not to be part of what he was doing.

A shimmer raced along the row of crystals, and the faintest of movements caught my eye as the air rippled behind them. A wall of rock began to materialize. But the movement wasn’t limited to the dissolving illusion. The crystals themselves began to shift. I realized that they’d looked all too much like scorpions the night before because they were just that.

With legs and pincers formed from crystal spikes, and a central faceted body, the sculptures came to life, standing and turning our way. A massive crystal tail curved over their back, with an angular stinger. They turned, at attention, with front pincers aimed toward us. The ends were sharp and glinted with a dangerous edge.

“Oh, fuck.” Morio leaped back as the nearest one scuttled forward, moving with a soft
clinking
sound.

Not sure how these creatures defended themselves, or if they were able to use magic, I quickly ran through the possibilities. Crystals could amplify electricity, and when I thought about calling down the lightning, something inside whispered,
Don’t do it—they’ll be able to feed on it.

I grasped my staff firmly as the entire line of creatures began to edge forward. Delilah and the others readied their weapons.

“Does anybody know what the fuck these are?” It would help to know what it was we were fighting.

“Not a clue.” Mordred’s voice was actually a little shaky and for once he didn’t seem quite so cocky.

“No idea.” Bran had less to worry about, but even he sounded cautious. The Elementals and their children were true Immortals. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t suffer pain or damage.

Morgaine and Delilah moved to flank my sides. Delilah was staring at the crystal creatures with a puzzled look, while Morgaine just looked pissed.

“I don’t think it matters whether we know
what
they are, the only thing we have to figure out is
how
to fight them.” Tanne glanced back at me. He’d moved up to Morio’s side and had his sword out. “I can tell you my Spell of Unraveling isn’t going to work on these—they’re actual creatures. They may have been in stasis, but they aren’t golems. That much I can tell.”

“Lovely, which is probably why Morio’s spell to dispel illusion brought them out from their frozen state. The trap was a spell that kept the wall invisible, and kept them at a standstill. The spell’s gone and so is their immobility.” I groaned. “The Fae Lords really had it all planned out, didn’t they?”

“Clever, very clever.” Morgaine cocked her head, eyeing the creatures. “They didn’t do anything by halves, did they?”

“Well, the creatures are made of rock—crystal, but still . . . rock. What can destroy rock?”