Crimson Veil

Dear Reader:

I hope you enjoyed Crimson Veil, book fifteen of the Otherworld Series. I love writing this world, it expands and grows with each book, and I see so many possibilities ahead for the D’Artigo sisters.

Next, stay tuned for the last book in the Indigo Court Series, Night’s End, coming July 2014, in which Cicely and her friends face the final battle against Myst and the Indigo Court. Turn the page for a sneak peek at the first chapter.

While the Indigo Court Series will be wrapping up, the Otherworld series will not! Priestess Dreaming (a Camille book) comes out in the fall of 2014, and there will be more books from Otherworld after that. I am also starting a spin-off series set in the Otherworld altaverse—same time frame, different characters.

The first book in the Fly By Night Series—Flight From Death—will be out in 2015. This series will not take the place of the Otherworld Series, but will run concurrently! It’s exciting for me to have the opportunity to bring you more stories from the Otherworld.

For those of you 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, I want to thank you for once again revisiting the world of Camille, Menolly, and Delilah.

Bright Blessings,

The Painted Panther

Yasmine Galenorn

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 like the perfect picture: The snow gleamed under an overcast sky, sparkling with the cold. Here and there, patches of ice glistened the faint blue that winter ice tends to take. Evergreens—firs and cedars—stood cloaked in white blankets, the snow weighing down their limbs to touch the ground.

My breath was visible in the icy chill of early dusk, a cloud of white every time I exhaled. But the pristine chill that made the very air shimmer barely penetrated the white feathered cloak I wore. And even 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 an 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 recovered from his wounds. The Cambyra Fae had healed quickly, even from the severe wounds he had sustained from the Shadow Hunters, and while he had been in great pain for several weeks, now he was back in action. As an interesting side effect, I sensed his attitude toward me had shifted. Where before, he had been doing his duty, now there seemed to be a loyalty in place that I hadn’t expected.

I listened to the slipstream carefully, searching for information. The realm of Snow and Ice might be mine to command, but it was vulnerable, and Myst was still out there. While I trusted the scouts and my advisors, I had begun to realize that my awareness had heightened since the coronation, and I could—if I listened carefully—sense Myst when she was around. After all, in a lifetime long before this one, she had been my mother and I had been her daughter Cherish, the hope of the Indigo Court, until I betrayed both her and my people.

Ulean, my wind Elemental, swept around me. She was stronger here, the winter kingdom agreed with her. While she’d always come through clear to me—ever since being bound to me when I was six years old—here, in this frozen realm, I had become even more aware of her.

At times, I thought I could catch a visible glimpse of her. Strict, my advisor, had told me it was one of the side effects from taking the crown—one 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 are 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 sooner than we’d hoped.

Shivering, I pulled my cloak tightly around my shoulders. The owl feathers used to make the cape had been gathered one by one, gifted by my Uwilahsidhe brethren. I was half magic-born, and half Uwilahsidhe—a branch of the Cambyra Sidhe. We were the owl shifters. I’d only discovered the latter half of my heritage less than six weeks before. The cloak had been a wedding gift from my people.

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—they 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 she’d mentioned. It was like stretching a new muscle—one that wasn’t in body but within my spirit. Focusing, I sent out feelers, probing the landscape, creeping like vines through the slipstream. There, I could sense an arctic fox, and over there—the hare it was stalking. A ways beyond and I felt the chill of a group of Ice Elementals passing through, their focus so distant and alien that I couldn’t have deciphered their intent if anybody 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 treeline, and the dark sentinels of the woodlands whispered rumors in my ears. There were creatures in the woods—creatures 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. 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 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 stood there, waiting, a figure stepped out from behind the laden branches. She was 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 crossed and crisscrossed her face. Gaunt, her limbs were long and lean, her fingers jointed and gnarled with what one might think of as age. But to be honest, I had no clue of her age. The Snow Hag might be old as the world for all I knew.

She flashed me a cunning snaggletooth smile—one of her teeth curving up from her upper jaw to rest against her bottom lip. She did not kneel, but neither did I expect her to. The Wilding Fae, while they might now live in my realm, were still 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 a certain Snow Hag could guide a Queen—who is, in fact, seeking the source of danger on the wind.”

I didn’t have the full rhythm 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, and right now, I wished he could be here to help me. But I had to learn at some point.

“There is a learning curve and a queen might be making good progress, however, she might also be tripping over her words. If a certain Wilding Fae were less scrupulous, there might be trouble brewing, but luck will out. Though, sometimes, luck has nothing to do with it and desire, everything. And there is desire to see the new rule continue.”

She gave me a wide smile and laughed, and once again, I could feel her power, 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, 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 beautiful, and seemingly, the best of friends. Danger might also throw a cunning glance, speak a misplaced word, and 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 and learning to listen and understand the Wilding Fae. One might think the Queen of Snow and Ice is on the right trail.” 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 back, as they knew to do, and I didn’t think they’d heard me. This information meant I couldn’t trust anyone, and while Check had been nothing but attentive, and Fearless now seemed more than willing to protect me, when I thought about it, I really didn’t know them. I’d have to talk privately with Grieve, my husband, when I returned home.

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

Cicely, move. Fly. Get out of reach!

Without hesitation—Ulean, I could trust with my life—I closed my eyes and, arms shrinking as they spread into wings, body shifting, I was aloft and on the wing in my barred owl shape. Until recently, I’d had to remove my clothing in order to transform but again, one of the perks of becoming a Fae Queen.

As I spiraled up into the chill evening air, I looked down to see something racing out of a nearby bush—and then, a shimmer and another figure appeared out of thin air. Shadow Hunters! And they had gotten in via some way other than the entrance to the realm. As I watched, Check and Fearless engaged them.

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 life had been shoved into a box, even as it had broadened out in so many other ways. I chaffed at the restrictions even though I understood the reasoning for them.

As I watched, the two Shadow Hunters—Vampiric Fae who were members of the Indigo Court—launched themselves at my guards. They were twisting, morphing into the great cerulean-colored beasts they became when they aimed to destroy, to rip muscle and sinew away from the bone, to devour the flesh and—in some cases—the life force.

Check was engaging with a jeweled sword as Fearless toppled back. He’d just recovered from a similar attack, and my blood began to rise as I watched my men struggling to keep the Shadow Hunters’ slobbering jaws and great bared teeth from latching onto them.

There was no way I could survive 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 I could do. It was a dangerous choice, but I couldn’t fly off and let the Shadow Hunters ravage my guards.

I spiraled up to the nearest tree and landed on the first bare branch I could find big enough to support myself when I changed back into my normal shape.

I balanced on the limb, making certain it would be wide enough to support my weight without breaking. I grabbed hold of the trunk as my cloak almost threw me off balance when I transformed back into myself. But I caught myself and managed to stand at the crotch of the limb where it met the trunk, putting my weight back against the tree.

I closed my eyes and summoned the winds. A shiver of delight raced through me. It had become more and more dangerous for me to call in the gale force winds, to stir up a tornado, but it was also a gift that could save both Check and Fearless and I wouldn’t hesitate to use it. As I glanced at the ground below, the blood channeled across the snow in a delicate wash of rose that spread over the the blanket of white. Whether the blood belonged to Check, Fearless, or the Shadow Hunters, I didn’t know.

The breeze started small, but quickly sped up, rushing through me. They went beyond the winds of the cold Winter realm. They were from the heart of the primal Wind Element. A boreal wind sweeping directly out from the plane of air. The gusting currents buoyed me up, filled me with a delicious sense of power, as I rose to my tiptoes, balancing precariously on the branch.

I raised my arms, no longer needing the support of the tree trunk, as the winds lifted me into the air and spun me aloft, carrying me on a bank of mist and whirling snow. A whispered Gale Force, and the winds turned into a storm of hurricane proportions, only instead of driving rain along in front, the fury 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 storm, to fly back to the barrow.

But the winds held me in their mania, and I couldn’t break free. Each time I used this power, it was harder to rein myself back in. Each time was a step closer to me being enslaved by the chaotic forces driving the wind across the world. One day, I knew I might not be able to free myself.

Today, they summoned me, cajoled me to dive headfirst, to give myself over to them.

But then, shouts from below caught my attention, and I saw a handful of other guards wading into the fray. They must have seen what was going on and rushed to help. Armed, they pushed forward to attack the Shadow Hunters, even as Check and Fearless rejoined the battle. They were too many 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, I transformed back into my owl form, and returned to the snow field below.

I sat on the edge of my bed, letting Druise, my personal maid, help me change clothes. She bundled me up into a clean, dry pair of black jeans and laced my royal blue corset snugly, then brought me dry boots, and a spider-web thin black cloak embroidered with silver threads. As she draped the cloak around my shoulders, she was careful not to touch the crown that circled my head. A diadem of silver leaves entwining on either side of the circlet, the vines met in the center to embrace a glowing cabochon of black onyx, and below that, a sparkling 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. Piled high with under-blankets and sheets, the indigo comforter matched the pattern of the carpet. Covering rows of cobblestones, the rug was a sweeping panorama of swirling patterns set in indigo, eggplant, and silver.

On the ceiling over the bed, the pattern continued, only in inlaid gems of iolite, sapphire, amethyst, and quartz. The rest of the ceiling was jet-black, and the gems shimmered with an inner light that picked up the glow from the lanterns, setting to a slow, sinuous dance of movement in light and shadow.

“How long before you have to be at your meeting?” Druise refilled my teacup and I inhaled the rich aroma of peppermint, grateful as it cleared my head. I glanced up at the clock—time worked differently here in the realm of Snow and Ice but I used a clock to keep me on track within the barrow. The familiar touch from the outer world made me more comfortable as I adjusted to my new way of life.

“An hour. They’re conferring now, but I needed a little while to think.” Actually, what I had needed was a chance to decompress from raising the winds.

I inhaled slowly, my breath grounding me back into my body. After I finished my tea and cookies, I stood, sighing. Time to face the reality we had all been dreading. But we’d known it was coming. 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 poured intensive study into the language of our new people, the customs of our courts, as we desperately attempted to learn 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, and 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, Epi-pen, and everything else I would need when out of my chambers. With one last look around the bedroom, wishing I could just curl up in the chamber and hide, I pushed open the door. Check was waiting on the other side to escort me to the council room.

The council room was a dark chamber, 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 for a time before they were set loose into the world. They did not mind their service—in the Fae world, in the world of Elementals, human rules and emotions didn’t always apply. In the Marburry Barrow—in 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 Fae Prince-turned-King. Also waiting were Check and Fearless, and several other advisors and guard leaders. As I entered the room, they stood to bow. 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 brought over a tray filled with roast beef sandwiches, bowls of hot chicken soup, and the ever present tea. I was weaning them onto coffee, but they would drink their tea.

The barrow kitchen had experienced 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—no seafood. I was Epi-pen allergic, anaphylactic, and even though I didn’t like thinking about it, 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 that 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 Grieve, she had turned, and even though he had control over his nature now, he was still feral and wild. But he was my love, and that’s all that mattered.

“Myst is on the move.” Small talk was all well and good, but right now wasn’t the time for it. I told them about my encounter with the Snow Hag. “Check and Fearless would have bought the farm if backup hadn’t come. Luckily we weren’t far from the barrow, or we would have been in a fuckton of trouble.”

Strict winced. My slang still bothered him, and we were speaking in English because I didn’t know enough Cam-byra to make myself understood. I was learning, but it was a complex language and slow-going.

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

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 yet?”

I shrugged. “Dunno, but I don’t think so. When I was flying overhead, in my owl form, I saw the second Shadow Hunter shimmer into view. It was like watching someone appear through a portal, though we know there is no portal there. So it stands to reason that Myst used some form of magic to transport them over here. Which would indicate that she isn’t here in our realm. Yet.”

“Not necessarily, Your Majesty.” Check tilted his head slightly. “She could be here. She might have sent them ahead as scouts. Just because they traveled via magical means doesn’t mean they came from outside the realm. We shouldn’t assume anything.”

He made a good point. I leaned back, wondering whether it was safe to tell them what the Snow Hag had told me. She had said danger was under my nose rather than in the distance, and I didn’t think she had been talking about the Shadow Hunters we’d encountered. If I did have a spy, could it be Strict, Check, Fearless? Or one of the other members of my staff gathered around the table with me? Or even… beautiful and alluring, my own sweet Grieve?

But then I wiped away the last thought. I knew my love, inside and out. I knew that even though he was 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’s thought, I motioned to him. “We need to talk. Alone.”

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

Ulean, keep watch and make certain nobody is listening at the door. Warn me. And listen to what they are saying—I want to know.

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 to be found here. This edge was not here yesterday—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 on that, however.

I shuddered and Grieve noticed. He pulled me into his arms. 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 spy for Myst here… and I don’t know who. Now I can’t trust anybody. My father told me I could trust Strict before he and Lainule left for the Golden Isle, but can I really? Do I dare trust anybody?”

“Trust is a relative word. We can’t take a chance telling them what we know—if one of the men in there happens to be in the service of Myst, then she’d find out we’re onto her plans.” His gaze flickered to the ground and 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 what he was talking about and he was right. I didn’t like it.

The Shamans of the Cambyra Fae had a procedure. It was painful and intrusive, but allowed them to delve into someone’s mind, to root through their thoughts and feelings and secrets. Essentially a form of mental torture, it was a real mindfuck. 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. You let a spy from Myst loose in this barrow and she’ll have a good chance of sweeping through here again. And this time, she won’t leave anybody alive. If she gains entrance, you can be 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 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, leaving a thin red weal 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 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.

New York Times bestselling author Yasmine Galenorn writes urban fantasy, mystery, and metaphysical nonfiction. A graduate of Evergreen State College, she majored in theater and creative writing. Yasmine has been in the Craft for more than thirty years and is a shamanic witch. She describes her life as a blend of teacups and tattoos, and lives in the Seattle area with her husband, Samwise, and their cats. Yasmine can be reached at her website at galenorn.com, via Twitter at twitter.com/yasminegalenorn, at facebook.com/AuthorYasmineGalenorn, and via her publisher. If you send her snail mail, please enclose a self-addressed stamped envelope if you want a reply.