Or whose. She was spinning her scissors around one index finger, like a gunslinger playing with his revolver, as she watched me.
“Bad dream?” she asked, then started to laugh.
Her laughter was no better than that of the ShadowEaters. It was dark and malicious. If this was my ally, I had some kind of lousy company.
Maybe insanity would be a better choice. I could make friends with teddy bears and jelly beans.
“You could have helped,” I said, hearing the accusation in my tone.
Skuld sobered and considered me. “How do you think you got back here?”
“You helped me?” Skuld might have looked like a warrior who got things done, but I wasn’t at all sure that we were on the same side. I did not expect that she would do me any favors.
She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t think you managed it yourself, did you?” There was nothing I could say to that because, you know, I had thought that.
And she knew it.
Worse, she thought it was funny. “Careful what you wish for,” she said.
I blinked. “You mean that was my fault? Because I asked him to tear the veil?”
She nodded slowly, and I was horrified. “Tearing the veil opened a portal.” She gave me a hard look. “One that maybe should have stayed shut.”
Oops.
“I thought it just removed the glamours.”
“That, too.” She turned her shears so that the moonlight illuminated one sharp edge. “Many weapons cut both ways.”
Okay, I should have anticipated that a Wakiya person—like Kohana—might not have presented all of the truth. Or that a dead shifter—like my brother, Sigmund—might have left out some important details.
“Is this the part where the Wyvern goes crazy?”
Skuld smiled. “Not all minds can bear to see the array of possibilities all at once. Fewer yet can choose wisely among them.”
Another test. Another riddle. Okay, I was on this like peanut butter on toast.
“What kind of portal?” I asked Skuld.
“A portal in dreams. They can find you in your dreams now, Wyvern, because you created the portal.” She arched a brow. “And they can attack you there.”
“I thought they already could influence my dreams.”
She smiled. “Now they can kill you.”
Shit. That was not great news.
“Good thing you have friends in high places.” Skuld spun those scissors into her grip. She made an elaborate snip with them, then winked at me.
So that was how she’d done it.
I asked the obvious question. “That was the flash of light? You can cut spells with those things?”
She smiled. “You are paying attention, after all.”
“I didn’t know spells could be cut with anything other than the NightBlade.”
Skuld arched a brow. “There are a lot of things you don’t know.”
True. And if Kohana could slice binding spells with the NightBlade, it made sense that there were other weapons that could slash those nasty spells to bits.
Seemed like I needed a tool like this.
I knew Skuld wouldn’t just give the scissors to me. I’d have to earn any gift she gave me. Or fight for it.
She turned the shears again, letting the moonlight gleam along the edge, just as she had done before, then gave me a hard look.
A clue.
I remembered what she’d said earlier, the other time she’d made that gesture.
“If it cuts both ways, there has to be something good about tearing the veil,” I guessed. “Maybe something more than eliminating the glamours?”
She smiled at me and nodded approval. “They are still weak, but if the portal is open, they can be destroyed. Forever.”
“The elder told me to hurry.”
“They gain power with every shadow they devour.” Skuld widened her eyes and said something I’d never have expected her to say. “Ticktock.”
On impulse, I put out my hand, palm up. A silent request for the surrender of the shears.
I thought she’d say no.
Or laugh.
Instead, Skuld’s smile broadened, as if I didn’t know what I was asking for or the price it would ultimately demand. She was that kind of a person, I could already see that, one who liked to test you by giving you what you thought you wanted. (Maybe all these dream people were like that.) I might have pulled back my hand then, but she dropped the scissors into my palm before I could.
I knew I couldn’t just give them back.
For better or for worse, they were mine, along with the responsibility for eliminating the ShadowEaters. (Okay, maybe that had been on my plate all along.)
They were huge shears and heavy. The blades were wickedly sharp, gleaming silver. The handle looked ornate and was covered with symbols. By the time I studied them, then looked back at Skuld to thank her, she was gone.
There was no more snow.
No tree.
Just Meagan’s room.
No dead people.
But, yes, wolves howling at the moon.
That they had to be real was just icing on the cake.
THE MOON WAS FULL, hanging round and silver in the night sky. It was almost morning but not quite, the sky getting a bit lighter at the horizon. My dream hadn’t been all dream: Mozart and King were still gone from Meagan’s bed. And I still had Skuld’s scissors in my hand. The cats could have been downstairs, but the scissors were too heavy to be a figment of my imagination.
In fact, it occurred to me that these babies could get me into serious trouble. The blades glinted, ferociously sharp steel polished to perfection, and when I touched them with a fingertip, I drew my own blood.
“Save me a liver,” Skuld whispered in my thoughts.
It was like old-speak, the ancient language of the Pyr, so I answered her in old-speak. “I thought you preferred souls.”
She laughed that dark cackle of a laugh. “There won’t be any of those where you’re going.”
It was not the most reassuring thing she could have said. After all, she was the sister who held the keys to the future. I got up and peered into the park across the street from the Jamesons’ town house.
Was there a glitter of golden eyes in the shadows? Maybe the ShadowEaters were the ones howling at the moon.
That was when I remembered that Nick was sitting vigil on the roof. He was a shifter and he had a shadow.
I was out of bed in a flash.
THERE WAS NO EASY ACCESS to the roof from inside the town house. There might have been one from the attic, but the trapdoor to the attic was in the ceiling of the linen closet, and Meagan had told me once that her dad had to take out all the stuff and the shelves in order to open the trapdoor. Her parents didn’t go in the attic, ever.
I wasn’t ready to go out the front door, not after I’d seen the spell light there, even thought I was worried about King and Mozart. I was more worried about Nick. I called to him in old-speak but he didn’t answer, which did nothing to make me feel better.
I had to go out there. I took Skuld’s shears with me and went into the bathroom, moving as quietly as I could.
I’d have to use my ability to spontaneously manifest elsewhere. I could have used a chocolate bar for the energy surge but was afraid to make noise by going down into the kitchen. Mrs. Jameson always got up really early. Plus she’d already been up to chastise me over the cigarette. For all I knew, she was still awake.
I shut the bathroom door, turned out the light, and took a deep breath. I didn’t know what I’d find on the roof, but I doubted it would be anything good. I tried to prepare myself for anything, to come out fighting if necessary.
Then I closed my eyes and wished myself on the roof.
It worked, worked so quickly that I staggered dizzily on the rooftop. The town house had a mansard roof, so the middle of it was flat. I was hoping to manifest right in the middle, to better ensure that no one would suddenly see me there. I was hoping to co
me out of the manifestation in dragon form, but tradition—or maybe exhaustion—prevailed.
I was a white salamander, as was usually the result when I manifested elsewhere. Of course, I couldn’t hold on to the shears, which were bigger than me, so they dropped to the roof and skidded across the dusting of snow there, coming to a halt with a clatter against the metal lip.
I hunkered low instinctively, half expecting Meagan’s parents to come out and check what the noise was.
The bonus of the newt form is that I can skulk without anyone much noticing, especially when my little white salamander body falls in snow. The snow was deeper than I was tall, but I followed the trail through the snow left by the shears and got my newty fingers on them again.
Then I looked around.
The snow was perfectly untouched in every direction.
Nick wasn’t there.
In fact, Nick had never been there. I couldn’t detect his scent at all. There was no tingle of dragonsmoke, except the faint vestige that still lingered from November’s adventures. I heard nothing from the house or the neighboring houses.
I summoned the shift and changed to my human form, grabbing Skuld’s shears.
I was alone.
Except for the faint echo of a spell. It was the same tune as in my dream, the one that beckoned the listener to follow it. I remembered Nick being tempted by the Mage spell on Halloween and had a very bad feeling. I strained my eyes and saw the tendril of spell light wafting over the little park opposite.
Then it snapped like a whip, cracking over the park. The pack of wolves that I’d heard earlier were gathered in the park. The spell dove among them like a spear. I heard them bark.
I saw the silhouettes of the ShadowEaters riding that spell right down into the pack. It looked like a comet, an orange projectile followed by a cluster of ShadowEaters, hanging on tight.
It was true. By asking the elder to tear the veil, I’d made it possible for them to enter my dreams, attack me there, then follow me into the here and now when I awakened. They could harm shifters on earth without requiring an invocation from the Mages. Their glamours were destroyed, so I could see them—but they could see me, too. And chances were pretty good that there would be shifters in my company, no matter where I was.
Great job, Zoë.
While I stood there, grappling with my own responsibility, the spell whipped around the leg of a wolf. The wolf pivoted, snarling as the spell wound more tightly.
Just as it had in my dream.
The ShadowEaters fell on the pack of wolves, snatching and biting at their shadows.
Which told me exactly what kind of wolves they were, even before one of them turned to look at me with eyes of pale silver blue.
This was a colossal fuckup on my part and I had to try to make it right.
I shifted to dragon form with a roar, leapt off the roof, and dove into the fray with Skuld’s shears held high.
Wyvern time.
THAT ONE WOLF WAS BOUND by the spell, the light moving at lightning speed. I realized that the wolves could see the ShadowEaters but not the spell light. They leapt at the shapes of the ShadowEaters, snapping and snarling, ready to rip off a shadowed limb. Two of them were down already, ShadowEaters surrounding them and demolishing their shadows.
Meanwhile, the snared one struggled against a tether he couldn’t see.
I bellowed and breathed fire, slashing at ShadowEaters with my talons and clearing space with my tail. I couldn’t manage Skuld’s scissors in my dragon form, though, and it was all I could do to hang on to them. Had Skuld been honest with me about them? I doubted it. What was the repercussion of using them? I couldn’t guess, not without giving it a try.
As I hesitated, the spell wound around the wolf, choking the life from him. I figured he must be a leader if they wanted him so badly. The ShadowEaters clustered closer, making their nauseating noises, and I had no choice but to shift back to human form.
To get to the wolf I had to push through the ShadowEaters, brushing against their slippery, slimy forms, hearing their smacking lips. I felt one or two take a nip at me, and my terror rose. It was way too easy to remember my dream. I lunged through them and slashed at the spell that held the wolf captive, as if cutting a leash.
It severed instantly, but the loose end flipped around like a snake.
Looking for another victim.
It quickly targeted me as the ShadowEaters pushed closer, chanting encouragement to their spell. I cut at it again and again, hacking it into bits in a frenzy, even as the other wolves snapped at the silhouettes of the ShadowEaters. The wolves leapt and bit, ferocious in their defense of their fellow. When the cut spell fell to the ground, like a dead thing, I turned Skuld’s shears on the ShadowEaters.
The first one fell back with a howl. I saw the frisson of fear run through them, and wondered anew at the power of the shears. For the moment I just kept on cutting and slashing. The ShadowEaters abruptly leapt into the sky and scattered once more, leaving me alone in the park, surrounded by a circle of wolves.
And two badly wounded wolves. They shifted between their forms as human guys and as silvery wolves. That meant they were badly hurt. Several other wolves clustered around them; one shifted to become a man with a leather pouch on his belt. He acted like a doctor, and I assumed he was the healer of their kind.
The other wolves watched, their concern tangible.
It started to snow again.
Then he nodded, and that one gesture sent a ripple of relief through the pack. The two injured shifters became wolves again and I saw one open his eyes. I was shaking with the aftermath of the fight and my relief.
The wolves turned as one to watch me, silent and wary.
I straightened, the shears hanging at my side. I realized a bit late that there were thirty wolves surrounding me.
Thirty predators.
The wolves watched me, motionless. I sensed that I was being judged, that an assessment was being made in a trial I couldn’t hear, and I couldn’t tell from the cold steadiness of their stares how the decision would fall.
It didn’t look good, I have to say.
And I didn’t blame them.
Then the one who had been bound by the spell approached me. He moved as if he was older, and I saw that his snout was silvery. He shook thoroughly, as if ridding his coat of a bad smell, then bent and sniffed the dead spell. He could either see it or smell it now that it was broken. To me, it looked like a line of ash lying in the snow.
Until he peed on it, his disdain clear.
He watched me all the while, his eyes a clear blue. I had the sense that something had changed within the pack. Their eyes seemed to glitter more avidly and their attention seemed to have sharpened. I couldn’t tell what they had decided, though.
I knew it was best to hold my ground.
The leader wolf came directly to me, his gaze locked on mine. He didn’t blink. He stretched out and sniffed the shears, then folded his ears back. He gave me one more sizzling look, then lay down in front of me and put his snout between his paws. He kept his ears folded back and closed his eyes.
I knew enough about dogs to recognize that I was being acknowledged as his superior.
Alpha girl.
I smiled and bent down beside him, reaching to touch the paw that had been spellbound with my free hand. The fur was singed from the spell. His eyes opened and he stared at me, unblinking. I knew he would understand me. “I’m sorry. I will do my best to defend the alliance and ensure the survival of all of us.”
There was a brilliant flash of light, and then an older man was crouched before me. His eyes were the same steady blue and his hand was in mine. We stood as one, then shook hands.
“As will we,” he said, his voice a low grumble.
“I’m sorry.”
“Much is unpredictable when the stars stand still. This is our teaching. What matters is your intent.”
I swallowed, relieved that I had been forgiven.
I
eyed the town house, so close behind us, and had to ask. “Why were you gathered here at all?”
His eyes narrowed. “We felt a threat. We came to investigate and possibly defend the dragon, to keep our pledge. When we were attacked, there were those who feared we had been betrayed.” He smiled. “I thank you, Wyvern. We had doubt, but you have proven yourself.” He gave my hand one last pump, his grip resolute and strong, and the wolves tipped their heads back to howl in unison.
The sound made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.
He gave a whistle, and the wolves fell silent once more. I bowed my head at the telltale shimmer of blue, averting my gaze as he shifted shape. The healer and one other man were the only ones in human form, and they carried the two injured shifters out of the park. I glimpsed the shadows of the other wolves slipping into the last of the darkness, fading from the park as surely as if they had never been there, and felt honored by their trust.
That was when I realized there was one wolf left, standing by my side.
The one with silvery blue eyes.
He shimmered blue, and Derek was standing beside me.
“Something else is wrong,” he said, his gaze dancing over my features. I knew he could smell my emotions, but his powers of observation still surprised me. “Tell me.”
“Nick was going to sit vigil on the roof, but he’s gone.”
“Where?”
I shrugged. “I can’t sense him. I—”
Derek’s eyes flashed and he muttered a curse about ShadowEaters. He tipped his head back to sample the wind, and his nostrils flared slightly. I saw his eyes narrow, and appreciated that his sense of smell was even keener than mine.
He flicked a look at me, one that I couldn’t read. “Remember that you were afraid for him.”
I was confused by his tone. “What do you mean? The ShadowEaters must have taken him first.…”
Derek shook his head. “He’s with Isabelle.”
I couldn’t believe it, but Derek was so confident.