Night Seeker

Chapter 10

As we plowed through the snow, visions of Aunt Heather rushed through my mind. She’d always been the one to comfort me when my own mother had grown impatient with my tears. Until I was six, Heather and Rhiannon and the Veil House had been the stabilizing force in my world. And then Krystal dragged me away. I remember standing on the steps as she pulled me toward the car, screaming because I knew-absolutely knew-that once we climbed in that car and drove away, my life would dive into a pit of fear and uncertainty.

And I’d been right.

Phone calls and the occasional visit home had given me hope. But Myst had stripped all of that away when she captured Heather. We would not be facing my aunt but a monster assuming her form. We had to keep that in the forefront of our thoughts.

We crept past rock and trunk, through the snow, keeping low in the overgrowth, the crisp scent of ozone from the storm filling our lungs. I was cold and wet and my jeans felt glued to my calves and thighs. The only place I felt truly dry was inside my boots and beneath my jacket. I hunkered down as we approached another clearing-the opening to the path we’d been headed toward.

Peering out between the branches I could see Heather standing there, in a gossamer gown the color of twilight, embroidered through with threads of shimmering silver. She was waiting, silent as the grave, her long red hair blowing in the wind. Her lips were red as berries, and her eyes glowed black with the obsidian of the vampires. The handkerchief hem of her gown whipped gently in the breeze, her long sleeves fluttering as if light fingers were moving them.

Rhiannon crept up next to me. She stared at her mother, and her expression said everything her lips could not. Aching loss, loneliness, the pain of watching a loved one who has slipped into the shadows-it was all there, flooding her face. Mutely, she looked at me. I reached out, slowly, to stroke her cheek, and then touched my fingers to my lips and placed them on her own. She hung her head and I waited for her to give the go-ahead. She had to be the one making the decision.

After a moment, Rhia looked up and her expression had changed, a switch had flicked. Her face was a mask of fury, strong and determined. I looked around and found a broken stick on the ground. It would work for a stake.

Rhia did the same, arming herself with a broken twig off of a downed cedar. Grieve, Chatter, and Kaylin mirrored our actions and we were ready.

I have your back. Ulean whipped around me, stirring the air with her frenzy. Heather must not return to Myst.

I know, Ulean. I know. This is not easy. She was…is…my aunt.

She is your aunt no longer but one of Myst’s witches, one of her changelings. Remember-the form is deceiving. Heather will do what she must for Myst. She is owned heart and soul by the Queen of the Indigo Court and owes no other allegiance.

With Ulean playing at my back, I readied my fan in one hand, the stake in the other. At a single nod from Grieve, we charged through the last strip of woodland onto the path, aiming for Heather. Dying time again.

Heather had expected us to come in from the path, not from out of the woods, which gave us an advantage. I whipped my fan forward, whispering, “Strong gust.” The resulting wind knocked Heather off balance.

Chatter moved forward, Rhia beside him, but Heather was too quick-the transformation had given her incredible reflexes. She recovered from the breeze and whirled toward me, her hands weaving together a pattern that I knew was some sort of spell. The next moment I went flying back into the snowbank as a nearby piece of wood rose and hit me square in the midriff.

That’s right, she works with earth magic. Crap. I rose, shaking from the blow.

Yes, she does, but she’s weak when it comes to air, and fire can destroy her, even if the light cannot.

“Please, one last time I beg of you, stop this madness. Let us help you.” Rhiannon was screaming at Heather, tears racing down her face. Her heart was breaking and there was nothing we could do to stop it from shattering.

Heather faced Rhia, looking all too ripe and luscious. She licked her lips. “My daughter. My dear, deluded child. I give you a chance. Come with me, come to Myst and let her taste you, drink you deep, bring you into our world. Just think…you and I together again. Working side by side, together, forever. You have rediscovered your flame. Think of all we could do, you and I.” She held out her hand, the look on her face sure of success.

Rhiannon paused. For a moment she seemed to waver, but then Heather laughed, and her laughter was like an icicle through the heart. Rhia stepped back and held out her hands, dropping the stake on the ground.

She whispered, “Fire, burn through me,” and a spray of fire shot forth from her fingertips, surrounding Heather, lighting the gossamer gown aflame.

Heather screamed as the flames roared to life, feeding on the cloth. The next moment, she threw herself into a snowbank, extinguishing the burning material. When she rose, a murderous smile filled her eyes.

“I can play rough, too, my darling daughter.” Another whisper, and this time the forest shook, the ground beneath our feet shifting. I lost my balance and fell, as did Rhiannon. Kaylin went sprawling over a tree trunk. Chatter and Grieve caught hold of trees to keep themselves afoot.

Heather was intoning a dark chant, deep and ancient, and terrifyingly old, and the tree next to Rhia began to topple toward her. I screamed as Chatter rushed forward, grabbing her around the waist and rolling clear just as the tree landed where she’d been standing.

I unfurled my fan. “Tornado force.” With a wave of my hand, the fan let out a low howl as a funnel cloud appeared, ripping trees from the roots as it headed directly toward Heather. My aunt screamed as the twister bore down on her. She held up her hands.

“Rock and boulder!” The earth shook between the force of the tornado and the thrusting up of some giant behemoth-and then I saw it was no monster, but a huge boulder propelling itself to the surface. Heather ducked behind it as the twister raged over her. Any normal magic-born or yummanii would have died from the force of my attack, but she belonged to the Indigo Court. She held on to the rock, her fingers exerting incredible strength to keep herself from being sucked into the vortex.

As the tornado shrieked off, I felt a tremor from my fan-it raced through my body and I wasn’t sure what was happening but I had no time to figure it out now. I grabbed my stake-this could end only one way-and headed over toward Heather.

But Rhiannon was in front of me. She’d broken free of Chatter, and stake raised, she raced to her mother. Her other hand was a ball of flame that coalesced around her fingers, shifting fire that seemed to barely faze her. Heather was just managing to stand again, when Rhiannon reached out and sent the ball of flame singing off her palm, straight into Heather’s face.

Heather screamed as the fire caught her hair and sparked it to life, her red locks becoming a mane of flame. Once again she dropped to the ground, rolling, but as she did so, Rhiannon leaped on her, catching her on her back. She straddled Heather, bringing the stake up above her head with a wild-eyed, glassy look.

“You would kill your own mother?” Heather’s voice was soft, so much like it had been before she’d been captured. Her face a mass of burned flesh, she reached up for Rhiannon’s neck and grabbed her.

Rhiannon began to choke as she struggled against Heather’s grasp. In a raspy voice, she gasped out, “You are not my mother. You are not my mother.” Tears raced down her cheeks and fell onto Heather’s face, sizzling against the burned flesh.

And then, in a silent moment, Heather paused. Her hands fell away from Rhiannon’s neck, and she spread them wide to her sides, waiting. Rhiannon wavered, staring down at Heather.

“You have seconds, only seconds, my love,” Heather whispered. “Please, just do it. Release me. I can only keep hold of my sanity for a few seconds at a time. I love you. Don’t let me hurt you, don’t make me fight to the death or you will surely die. I am too strong, I can bend the earth to swallow us up. Rhiannon, my baby, you must let me go.” Heather’s voice was tender, like I remembered from childhood.

“Mother…I can save you-I can…” And then Rhia stopped and shook her head. “I can’t save you. There’s no coming back for you, is there?”

Heather began to weep through the burned flesh that scarred her face. “Unlike Grieve, I died. I will never live again. And I choose not to live in this state, controlled by a monster, turning into a monster. I have done horrid things since she took me. I cannot live with them on my conscience. Either I become the horror she plans, or I die. Bless me with the gift of death, Rhia. Please, please, don’t make me live like this.”

Bloody tears poured down her face. Rhia began to sob and so did I. But we had no choice. We had moments, perhaps seconds, before Heather faded back into the freak that Myst had created. I slowly knelt beside them and reached down, kissing Heather on the forehead.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get here in time to save you, I’m so sorry I was too late,” I whispered, pressing my hand to her cheek.

Heather’s starry darkened eyes glimmered and I could feel the rush of fury coming on her again. I turned to Rhia. “Quickly. It has to be now. Do you want me to do it?”

“Help me. I have to do it, but help me, Cicely. I need you.” Rhia gave me a horrified look and I put my hands on hers, holding the stake above Heather’s chest.

Heather smiled, then, in one last moment of clarity. “I loved you as my own daughter, Cicely. Know that. And Rhiannon-you will know your father in time. Trust me. You will know.” She closed her eyes and a snarl came to her lips. “Now, before I retreat-now, it must be now!” Her voice was frantic.

I held tight to Rhia’s hands. She was gripping the stake with an uncanny strength, but she was frozen. I came to her rescue and began to drive the stake down toward Heather’s chest. Rhia dropped her head back, a silent scream on her face, and she ripped the stake from my hands and plunged it into Heather’s chest by herself. A spray of blood fountained up, spattering us both, leaving a dappling of crimson against the snow.

Heather let out a low scream that echoed along the slipstream, and then a rush of wind passed by, and Ulean was there, cloaking us. My aunt lay still, a bloody symbol of what we’d been driven to.

Rhia stared at her, a look of horror on her face. And then Chatter and Grieve were there, lifting us up, away from Heather’s body. As they led us away, Kaylin went in and what he did, I could not see, but when we turned, the body was no longer there, just a spreading crimson stain, freezing to the snow as the flurries raged around us. A small pile of dust whipped up and away, into the wind.

I let out a shudder, then a sigh, and pressed my face into Grieve’s shoulder. He kissed me softly on the cheek, then on the lips, demanding and fierce, and I lost myself in the feel of his lips against mine, of his skin against mine, of his body entwined around me. We stood, like two silent trees, rooted to the spot, tongues barely touching, softly dancing under the falling snow, until the exquisite pain of losing my aunt, of watching her die at our hands, was forced back into a corner, and blessed numbness swept over me.

Turning, I caught a glimpse of Chatter and Rhiannon. He was doing the same, comforting my cousin, kissing her, holding her, and she had lost herself in his embrace. My heart skipped a beat. This was the way it was supposed to be. Rhiannon and Chatter. Grieve and me. It felt right. It felt true.

Another moment passed, then Kaylin cleared his throat. “We should be off. I know it’s hard, but we have to reach Grandfather Cedar. We aren’t far. Let’s go.”

I broke away from Grieve. “You’re right. And on we go.” As we took up our march again, my heart was both heavy and yet-inexplicably light. We’d just killed the one woman in the world I thought of as my real mother, and yet we’d freed her. Torn her from Myst’s grasp. We’d given Heather the final gift, that of release.

I hung back, reaching for Rhiannon’s hand. We walked awhile, trudging through the snow, hand in hand. She seemed oddly calm, but I understood what she was feeling. The numbness was a blessing.

And whatever lay ahead of us, we would meet the challenge and do our best, no matter the outcome.

Another twenty minutes and Grieve said something to Chatter. Across a little clearing, we could see the cedar from my dreams-the cedar Lainule had indicated as the entrance to the tunnels leading to her heartstone.

“Grandfather Cedar,” Grieve whispered, a reverence in his voice. And indeed, the tree was taller than most any tree in the forest. It towered dark against the sky, a sentinel guarding the forest, with a trunk wide enough to build a home in. “We must find the tunnel.”

Chatter parted a swath of ferns. He knelt and blew on the surface of the snow, a faint flame whispering from his lips to melt the snow. After a moment, the glimmering outline of a door with a brass handle atop it came into view. The door in my dreams.

“Can anyone else see this?” I asked, hoping that we’d leave no trace once we climbed into the tunnel.

“Only those of Cambyra blood,” Grieve said.

Kaylin nodded. “He’s right. I can’t see it.”

Rhia stood still, staring. “But…but…I can.”

“What?” I whirled, staring at her. “You can see it?”

She nodded, her lips pale, as she stared into my eyes. “I can see the door, Cicely.”

“Does that mean…Grieve, are you sure that only those of Cambyra Fae should be able to see it? Because if so, that means…”

“Rhiannon also possesses Fae blood in her veins.” Grieve looked at her. “You possess fire magic, like Chatter.”

“No,” she whispered, pressing her fingers to her throat. “I can’t be part Fae. Mother…she would have told me.”

“My mother never did. And Heather said you will know your father in time.” As I stared at her, a suspicion began to form in my thoughts, but I kept it to myself, not even wanting to dwell on the possibility at this point.

“We must hurry. We can speculate on Rhiannon’s heritage when we have found Lainule’s…treasure.” Grieve touched the door handle and it sprang open to his fingers, as if it had been waiting for him.

I peered into the darkened opening. A swirl of color began to spin, gold and green and brilliant blood red. My dream, this was my dream.

I looked up at the others. “We have to take a leap of faith here. No hesitation, only action.”

And with that, I swung my legs over the edge, inhaled deeply, and before they could stop me, I pushed myself over, falling into the swirl of color, leaping into the rabbit hole.

Freeze-frame…falling down, deep, there’s a swirl of green and gold, and a streak of red, and I’m in the middle of a giant kaleidoscope…and I am turning in the air, head over heels, skydiving into a magical well, playing Alice down the rabbit hole…

Freeze-frame…and the plunge mellowed, the currents catching me up like a parachute. I was able to catch my breath and as I looked up, all I could see were faint glimmers that might have been movement, or just the swirling color of this psychedelic journey I was taking.

Freeze-frame…and the sparkling colors vanished as I slid through a low-hanging cloud and landed on my butt, in a deep, dark tunnel, coming down hard on a stone floor. I pushed myself to my feet and moved. If the others were following me, chances were they’d be landing right about where-

Just as I darted to the side, Kaylin landed on his feet in a crouch. He moved to the side next to me. Rhiannon was next, and she nearly took a nasty tumble, but Kaylin managed to catch her before she fell. She flashed me an anxious look as we waited. Within another moment, Chatter and Grieve had joined us.

“How do we get back up again?” Rhia glanced up at the swirling, nebulous, glowing clouds that covered the entrance to the portal. “And what about the trapdoor?”

Chatter shook his head. “Not to worry, I cloaked the entrance. But as for getting back up through that, I have no clue. We’ll figure it out when we come to that point.”

I moved over to examine the wall. It was glowing with the same shimmer that the other tunnel had had, only this one was brighter, warmer. I leaned my forehead against the smooth wall. Something within the glassy tile connected with me, sparking off images of summer nights, warm and delicious and filled with ice-cream cones and stargazing and dragonflies. I could almost smell the dusky summer evening riding the slipstream as Ulean swept this way and that.

Grieve joined me. “What do you feel, my love?”

I took his hand, slapped it against the wall, palm first. “Tell me what you sense, can you feel it? Can you feel Lainule’s heart? This is her private sanctuary. Can you feel the essence of summer, deep within the structure of the tile?”

He closed his eyes, took a long, deep breath. And then, as he started to shake his head, his eyes flew open and he jolted back, panting raggedly as he dropped to his knees and curled over, hiding his face with his hands. “I remember…I remember…” The pain in his voice tore me to shreds as I ran to him, knelt by him.

“Are you all right? What happened?” I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, but he shook me off.

“I…remember what it was like…what I was like before she turned me.” He slowly sat up, loss spreading across his face like a blight over the land. “I am tainted. I am tainted. How can I ever be whole again?” A snarl rose to his lips and his eyes narrowed. “How can I live in two worlds at once?”

Chatter rushed forward. “Grieve, can you hear me? You must listen to my voice. Follow my voice. Follow it home. Follow me.” His words took on a dark tone, swirling like autumn leaves, and I found myself falling into their cadence as he spoke.

Grieve snarled again, and I could see the Shadow Hunter within him, waiting for release. But he remained in control, his expression set, as he fixated on Chatter’s face. I did not speak.

“Follow my voice home, follow it back…follow the thread through the snow. Can you see the snow around you?”

As if in trance, Grieve nodded. “All around me. There is only snow, only the everlasting chill and the silver stars in her eyes. She is so cold…so terribly cold.” He shivered, but Chatter gave me a look that kept me frozen in place.

Chatter whispered to Grieve. “Follow my voice through the snow, follow it through the woodland, through the deep, dark forest. Like a golden thread it unfurls, like a golden arrow, my voice will point the way. Can you see the words on the slipstream? Can you feel them calling you?”

Exhaling slowly, Grieve’s eyes began to flutter, and I realized Chatter was hypnotizing him. Rhia and Kaylin stood by my side, frozen, waiting.

“Yes, I can see them.” Grieve’s answer was quiet, without the snarl, without emotion.

“Follow my words as they guide you through the snow.” He paused, then said, “The snow is beginning to melt, turning into a trickle of water. The trickle of water grows, turning into small rivulets, and then into small creeks, into raging streams that follow the path through the woods. See the snow vanish, feel the sun rising higher in the sky as Summer regains the land. Can you see this? Can you feel the warmth on your face as the light returns?”

“Yes, I can see it. I can feel it!” The longing in my beloved’s voice cut me to the quick. We had to find a way to break the hold Myst had on him, to clear his blood…There had to be a way to turn him back into the noble prince he once was.

“Let the light encompass you, draw you back, bring you back to your heart again, to your core, to your wolf. Let the light into your eyes, let Summer’s song fill your heart.” Chatter knelt by Grieve, and he reached out and cupped Grieve’s chin with his palm. I could see how much it cost him to watch his best friend stagger under the weight of Myst’s curse.

After a moment, Grieve took another long breath, and he looked up at Chatter. While no words were said, I clearly heard a whisper of thanks pass between them. Chatter offered Grieve his hand, and as Grieve rose, the two nodded, a private moment between them. I looked away, feeling helpless and hopeless. But then, as I leaned back against the tile, the tingle of Lainule’s heartstone echoed through me and I stood, ready to press on.

The tunnel was full of her essence. It was all around us, almost as if she, herself, were here. I turned to the others. Rather than embarrass Grieve by asking how he was, I decided to just continue.

“Ready to go?” I wasn’t sure if he’d want to take the lead or not, but Grieve and Chatter moved to the front again.

“We’re ready. Let’s go.” Chatter gave me a quiet nod.

I swept in behind him, Rhia took her place behind me, and then Kaylin at the back. As Grieve led us down the passage, away from the glowing clouds of the portal, the tiles took on a life of their own and whatever spark was within them shone through, as if we were walking through a hallway surrounded by shooting stars.

I wondered how far we’d have to go and how we’d find the heartstone. I wanted to shake the worries out of my head-I’d been too entrapped by my own thoughts lately and the constant questioning of every move I made was beginning to wear on me. Not to mention it had been a couple of days since I’d gone out in my owl form and I was beginning to realize that that was not a good thing. Once I’d unleashed my Uwilahsidhe nature, it needed to stretch its wings and fly on a regular basis.

Speaking of…I glanced back at Rhiannon. She’d seen the door. Only those with Cambyra blood could see the door. Which meant…I slipped back and took her hand.

“Lost in your thoughts?” I said as she startled, looking up at me as if she hadn’t realized I’d been there.

She nodded. “Yes, thinking…”

“About your father.”

“About my father, yes. If I am like you…we are truly twin-cousins. But I can’t help but wonder. Do you think Wrath is my father, too?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. He could be. Which would mean we truly are sisters.” I found myself hoping that was the case-Rhia was the only sister I’d ever known, and to know that we were not only cousins but sisters would be a blessing. “I hope he is.”

She smiled then. “I think I’d like that. I like Wrath.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” I squeezed her hand. “We’ll find out when we return home. If we can retrieve Lainule’s heartstone, surely she’ll tell us the truth.” But the Summer Queen’s words suddenly echoed through my mind, rushing through on a cool gust of wind. When you save a life, you bear its burdens the rest of your days.

Up ahead, Grieve suddenly stopped. The passage ended, opening into a chamber. Chatter and Grieve slowly entered, standing to the side. I dropped Rhia’s hand and walked toward the arch. As I stepped through the arch, my breath spiraled out of my body and I found myself on my knees, facing the most incomparable beauty I’d ever seen in my life. Any life.

The chamber was vast. So vast there was no telling how wide or long it was. Filled with giant dark roots of trees and stalagmites and stalactites, it was both cavern and barrow. Pale vines, devoid of pigment, trailed down from the tree roots, like some ghostly mirror of ivy plants gone mad.

They coiled around the rock pillars, around the roots that plunged down through the chamber into the ground below our feet. Like floral snakes hiding in tree boughs, they waited. A sparkle of crystal flowers dappled the albino leaves, violet and rose and brilliant peridot.

I slowly crossed into the chamber, unable to fully take in the beauty that spread before me. A pool shimmered in the center, wide enough that a boat sat on one end. The boat could fit six people and was white, painted with oak and ivy leaves. By the scent, it had been carved from a cedar log.

The pond rippled softly against the shore. At first I thought it was white sand, but when I drew closer, the sand was actually made up of millions of tiny white pebbles.

To my left, the shadows took hold-I could not see what lay between the roots and stone pillars creating a labyrinthine path. And to my right-another path, leading into the distance.

I turned back to Grieve, my breath hushed. “Where are we?” My words sounded lame, breaking the silence, perhaps the first words spoken here in thousands of years.

He shook his head. Chatter did not know either.

I cautiously made my way over to a fallen stalactite, gingerly sitting on it as I tried to figure out where to go from here. Rhiannon joined me. She took my hand as we sat there in silence.

Kaylin crouched near the water, his fingers reaching out to touch it, but he stayed his hand a few inches from the lapping waves, a look of uncertainty on his face. We were at an impasse.

Ulean, I don’t know what to do next.

What does your heart tell you?

That I am afraid, and lost.

Then what does your instinct-your gut-tell you?

I closed my eyes, trying to listen past the fear. For a moment there was only a sense of confusion, but then a small voice laughed over the surface of my bewilderment. I listened again, and realized the laughter was coming from me…from the Faerie tattooed on my breast.

I caught my breath as a whirl of music raced through me and my feet began to tap in time to the rhythm. Jumping up, I began to dance around the stalactite, laughing aloud, driven on by the mirth and joy in my Faerie’s voice.

Rhia was on her feet, joining me, and we clasped hands, leaning back, circling each other as we danced. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled, the years falling away. We were children again, dancing through the Golden Wood, hurrying to meet Grieve and Chatter.

Kaylin moved toward us, but Grieve caught him by the shoulder and shook his head, motioning him back. I could not hear what he said, but Kaylin nodded and stayed his ground.

And then, finally, our circling grew slower and Rhia and I stopped, my hands palm up, her fingers resting lightly atop mine. We gazed into each other’s eyes. I began to whisper.

“Wind…wind…winds arise and come to be my guide.”

Rhia opened her lips and her words slid out, flowing over mine. “Fire rising ever higher, light the way before me.”

“Winds of change, attend me, and never leave my side.”

“Flames burst forth from my heart, and light the path clearly.”

Our fingers trembled, and a ball of energy-fire and wind-rose between us, emerging from our hands, to hover over our heads. We looked up and watched as it spun around and around, and then-with one quick streak-shot out over the boat, showering it with sparks-and across the pond into the darkness.