“I guess we just have to accept that it’s going to be on our tail, then. Check, have one of your men keep an eye on it as we travel. Let’s get a move on. We have miles to go, and the storm shows no sign of letting up.”
Lannan, who had barely spoken since we started out, surprised me by saying, “The storm won’t let up till that bitch is dead.” He wore no coat, only a leather jacket. Vampires had no fear of the cold. But beneath the jacket, he was wearing a heavy sweater and jeans that would offer him some protection in case of a fight.
There didn’t seem to be a need to answer him—we all knew he was right. So we headed out, toward the Barrow that I remembered from so long ago. It was hidden deep in the forest, but as we plowed through the maze of trees and mounds of snow, I began to feel a sense of familiarity. I’d never been back here, not since I was a little girl and only that one time, but there was something about the feel of the area that rang a bell somewhere in my core.
Once again, I felt the past intruding into the present, only this time, it was like I was walking in two worlds at once. Here, with Grieve and my men, and yet . . . and yet . . . I was walking in another age, as well.
In a dream state I walked atop the deep snow. The land here was fresh and new. Mother had settled on it because we were close to the Fae Barrows. They’d had no clue we were near, not for a long time. And then, even after, they’d ignored us until I’d changed everything by falling in love with Shy. Now they hated us—their dark cousins who walked in blood and shadow.
And yet . . . and yet . . . I was not here—not really. I glanced around and realized that everything I looked at seemed to be filtered through a vapor that rose up to cloak me in mist. Then the sound of snuffling startled me, and I whirled around to see an ancient elk break free from the trees. But instead of sensing me—instead of turning to run—he ambled past, not even glancing in my direction.
I looked down at my hands—they were as translucent as the ice of the Elementals. They shimmered, as did my gown and the air around me. Confused, but knowing this was my home, I continued on, following my instinct until I saw the Barrow Mound ahead.
Out of that mound stepped a woman. The Barrow looked covered with broken branches and in a state of disrepair. And the woman? She was tall as the sky with hair the color of raven wings, and her eyes were jet with swirling stars in their core. She was like a spider, thin and jointed but beautiful in a terrible way. Her dress was the color of twilight, covered with silver embroidery. Something about her struck a chord in me, and then . . . with one look at her tearstained face, at the look of fury filling her eyes, I remembered.
Myst. She was my mother. And yet, she didn’t seem to recognize me. In fact, she stared past me as if I weren’t there. As if . . .
A guard scuttled up to her, kowtowing at her feet. I couldn’t hear what he said to her, but she kicked him in the face, knocking him back, and then he hunched his way to the side, darting terrified glances over his shoulder.
Another moment and Myst straightened her shoulders as four more guards emerged from the woods, carrying a stretcher over for her to inspect. My stomach dropped, and I had the feeling that I knew who was on that stretcher. As they passed by me, I saw I was right. There, stretched out in a silver gown, dead to the world, was my body. Cherish. Daughter of Myst. Killed by my own hand—by a drink that was both poison and a promise for the future.
Myst stared in silence at the body for a moment, then spoke the last words I would ever hear from her in that lifetime.
“This is the body of a traitor—give it to the hounds to feast upon, and if they die from the poison in their veins, throw them in the lake. I have no daughter. Not anymore. And if her spirit should ever return . . . I will banish her to the depths of the abyss.”
As she turned, her dress swishing against the snow, I wanted to lunge forward, to fall at her feet and tell her I was sorry, that even though my heart had won out, I still loved her. But then she was gone, into the Barrow.
With a sudden rush, I fell through the snow, swirling, finding myself back on the hilltop with Shy. We were bloody—I had mowed down guards on both sides with a vengeance, long enough to give us this respite. We had managed to hold them off for three days after they tracked us down, but we knew this was the end of the road. We wouldn’t survive the night. This was our last stand—our ending. Only it wasn’t happily ever after.
Shy held out a flask. “They’re coming. It’s time—or we will have no more choice. Put your hands on the flask with mine.”
As I did, the energy within the fluid shifted and it loomed dark and ominous—deathly seductive.
Flash . . . a swirl of energy, beckoning me forward, beckoning me in. Flash . . . a pool waited, so dark and deep that I could never see the bottom, and I knew that once I fell in, a journey would begin that would take me through time, a journey that would never end. Flash . . . sparkling stars filled the void, and Shy and I were rocks, waiting to drop in the vast ocean, where we would send ripples out to change the course of the future. Flash . . . the smell of belladonna and wolfsbane rose up, the scents of hemlock and yew and all things earthy and whispering of the sweetness of death. And one last flash . . . and my energy blended with Shy’s, and together we changed the structure of the potion within the bottle.
And then . . . they crested the hill, a row of shadows against the barren snows under the full moon that lit up the night. Lining the ridge, their leader stepped forward. Shy’s brother led the pack. A fierce warrior, he hated me with a passion and had vowed he’d do whatever needed to keep us apart. I wanted to rip him to shreds, to take him down, but now there would be no opportunity. He would think himself victorious.
But we will be the winners. We’ll be free of the hatred between our people.
I turned to Shy, suddenly afraid. “I’m not afraid to die—not with you—but I don’t want them to hurt us. I don’t want our last moments on this world to be in pain. I want to go out thinking of you. Loving you.”
He pressed the flask into my hand, his gaze never wandering from my own. “I love you. Cherish, I will love you till the end. I will love you beyond the veils of time. We were meant to be together, and all the hatred and borders and queens of this world will not keep us apart. One day, we’ll find each other again. I promise you this, on the honor of my soul, on all the stars in the sky.”
“Then let’s leave this world, leave it to the hounds and the snows and the flames. They haven’t won, my love. They haven’t won—we aren’t giving them the chance. We have our love. We set the game. We make the rules.”
As the hounds bayed and surged down the ridge toward us, I grabbed the flask and drank half the potion, feeling the liquid burn my throat as it filled my body with its dark and passionate promise. Shy drank the rest and then grabbed me, laying me down in his arms, and our lips met. He tasted of death, of bonfires and the darkness of the grave. He tasted like sweet poison, and I rested my head in his arms, still kissing him.
They were almost upon us, but the sky began to glaze over, and as I stared up, the stars whirled, mirroring the stars in my own eyes. I saw myself reflected in Shy’s gaze, and I pulled back, smiling. This was it. Our love would last forever, and they could never separate us, no matter how hard they tried. Our souls would be bound throughout time, and twin sparks, we would fly free from our bodies.
“Cherish . . . I will meet you in time.” Shy’s eyes began to flutter shut, and he struggled to keep them open. “I would not change this for the world—the day we met, my fate was sealed.”
“I meant to kill you that day . . . but you ripped out my heart and kept it for your own. You are my hope and my passion and my everything. I never understood what it meant to love—not until you came along. I would kill a thousand soldiers to stay with you.”
“I can’t hold on much longer. They’re almost here. Let go, my love. It’s time to let go.” Shy pressed his lips against
mine one last time.
“If you get there first, wait for me. I will know you . . . I will know who you are.” And then the stars began to spin faster. As the sound of our tormenters grew closer, I took one last breath . . . and let go, closing my eyes as I slipped into the void, racing toward the future where I knew my love would wait for me.
“Cicely, are you all right?” Grieve caught my elbow as I stumbled over a hidden root buried in the snow.
Startled, I looked around to find that I’d totally zoned out. How long we’d been walking since I’d taken my little trip back in time I didn’t know, but it must have been long enough for me to lose track of what I was doing.
“Fine. . . . I’m fine. Sorry—I just . . . I had another flashback.”
“They’ve been happening too frequently for comfort.” Grieve frowned, and as I stared at him, I could see his features superimposed over an image of Shy. A sudden well of emotion swelled up, and I stopped in my tracks. “Are you all right? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
I caught my breath. “I might as well have.” I reached out and took his hands, the emotion from the past bleeding through. “I . . . Grieve . . . no matter what happens, this is all worth it. We started something in the past, and somehow, I think that our connection goes far back in time, long before we were Shy and Cherish. But know that, whatever comes . . . I love you, and you are my passion. Here, then . . . all times.”
A worried look filtered across his face. “Lower your voice, my love. I know what you are feeling, but we don’t want to dishearten the men.”
At that moment, my wolf shifted, both in satisfaction and in concern. Grieve could feel my need, my love for him, but my ability to shift back and forth into Cherish’s mind scared him.
I understood what he meant. If I spoke too loudly, my words might sound defeatist and discourage our men. I nodded, then softly leaned forward to lightly brush his lips. We had no time for a lip-lock, but a single kiss—embodying my passion and love—there was always time for that.
Standing back, I looked around. “How close are we?” Even as I asked, I knew—we were around the bend from the Barrow. I took advantage of the pause to seek out Ulean.
Can you go ahead, see if there are any Shadow Hunters there?
I’ll be back in a moment. Meanwhile, you know that cloud creature? Still it follows you. It’s hanging back right now, and I don’t know if your men can sense it from where it’s at. But it is there, and possesses a great cunning. It plans for some course of action. Of this I’m sure.
Thank you. I’ll warn the others. Meanwhile, go check out the rest of the way to the Barrow, if you would.
As Ulean swept off, a cold blast of wind in her wake that stirred the snow into even more of a frenzy, I turned around.
“That creature we encountered? Still out there, following us. Ulean just told me about it. I’m not entirely sure what it’s doing but she thinks it’s up to something, so we’d better keep an eye open. I sent her up ahead to scope out the rest of the path. We’re near Myst’s old Barrow. I dread to see what she’s got in store for us there.”
I swallowed a lump that rose in my throat as I realized that getting to the Barrow? Was the easy part. The hard part was coming right on down the road at us. Myst would have trapped the way to her heartstone. All Queens did. I had. Rhiannon had. So, barring anybody standing between us and there, we’d be facing the gauntlet shortly enough.
Hunter grunted. “There are ways around traps, though it will never be easy. But you have me with you, and I know more tricks than you could imagine, girl. I was scouting through the woods before there were people here. I watched the settlers come in from the very beginning. There was a time, when I walked with the yummanii shamans who first walked these paths. I was the one who showed them how to access the path into the Dream Time. I’ve seen the years roll by, the decades come and go like whispers on the wind.”
Before I could say anything, Ulean was back, settling around me like a cloak of winds. She embraced me gently.
The Barrow stands unguarded, and I sense no Shadow Hunters in the area. I cannot vouch for what lies within—I was hesitant to enter. But Cicely, when you walk through that entrance, you will break the protection spell that Ysandra is keeping around you. And once it’s broken, whatever that cloud is out there, it will have free access to you. I can’t tell you if it will be able to get into the Barrow, but I can’t see why it shouldn’t.
I let out a long breath. There was no help for it. We’ll have to take that chance. There’s nothing else we can do.
I know, Cicely. Just be cautious.
I warned the others about what Ulean had told me, and we girded ourselves for the possibility. As we headed out again, I glanced over at Hunter.
“You said you can’t remember how the cloud killed them?”
He brushed his hands across his eyes. “Not precisely. I don’t think we ever figured out just how they died. One moment they were alive, and the next, the cloud enveloped them and . . . they were dead. Blood running out their noses and the corners of their mouths. Not savaged—not like the Shadow Hunters kill—but . . . just dead.”
Hmm . . . maybe this thing fed on life force—sucking the energy out of a person. Or maybe it disrupted the body’s systems, shut it down? Whatever the case, it was a hunter and therefore must have some motive for killing.
When we turned the corner, the abandoned Barrow mound came into view. Deep in the forest, surrounded by fallen logs piled thick with snow, in the heart of the Golden Wood, Myst’s renegade mound still existed. Here it was I had lived and died, a thousand years before.
As I stared at the Barrow, buried by drifts until it had become one large hillock of snow, a wave of panic rolled over me. Fear and betrayal, lust for blood, lust for Shy . . . It all bombarded me in one instant memory. I struggled against the sensation that I was drowning as my worlds of the past and the present collided. My wolf howled, shuddering against me, and Grieve let out a harsh cry and fell to his knees.
The next moment, he was standing again, but when our eyes met, I knew we were seeing both lifetimes superimpose, one over the other. We were back to where it had begun. Or, at least, as far back as we could remember. We were back to where I’d reveled in the bloodlust, and where Grieve had been Summer’s child.
Letting out a whimper, I reached for him, and he dragged me into his arms. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispered. “I knew it was true, but now . . . now it’s really, fiercely, true. We’ve made it back, my love. We’re back.”
I began to sob in his embrace. “We made it. We really did. And now, we’re fighting against my mother again.”
“This time, we have armies on our side. This time, our love isn’t forbidden. And Myst is no longer your mother.” Grieve pushed me back, holding my shoulders. “It’s time to put an end to this. Are you ready?”
I wiped away my tears, nodding. “Let’s do this thing.” Turning to the others, I said, “We’re going in. Keep watch, and especially keep watch for that fucking cloud monster.”
I silently thanked Ysandra for helping us get this far, then ducked my head and slipped into the Barrow. I took the lead—there was no question, no argument.
As I stepped through the entrance, it was as though a protective cloak was suddenly stripped away and Ysandra’s spell vanished.
It was darker than pitch, darker than night inside, as if something had sucked every drop of light from every corner, leaving a void behind. Taking a deep breath, I flipped on a small flashlight that I had hooked to my belt, and looked around. And right then, memories came tumbling back, memories from another life, and I knew exactly where I was.
I was standing in a large chamber that used to be Myst’s throne room. The Barrow wasn’t large, as Barrows go, because Myst had built it on the sly, and it didn’t have the backing from the Fae Court to truly make it grand.
&
nbsp; The throne—built of wood as black as night—had long overgrown with tree roots and now sat, a living creature of root and limb over deadwood, in what seemed a grotesque parody of my own throne room at home.
Everywhere I looked, time had ravaged the Barrow, but memories crept through: the bloody lust and thirst that Myst had birthed in me. A glance at one corner, and I remembered devouring a young fawn there, holding its heart in my hands as I marveled at the life running down my throat. Another corner, and a glimpse of me beating a servant who moved too slowly. Everywhere, the memories of vicious joy overwhelmed me.
Something began to wake inside, a fierce drive that made my stomach quiver. With the hunger came the fear. I was thirsty, I wanted blood, I wanted battle. The same feelings that the obsidian blades of the Shadow Hunters had awakened in me slammed back full force. Just being in the Barrow was waking a part of my soul I’d hoped would stay sleeping forever.
“Grieve—I’m afraid. I’m . . .”
My wolf shifted, and Grieve caught me by the wrist. “Focus. I can feel the hunger. I know that hunger because I fight it every day. Listen to my voice. You are in control. The Indigo Court still lives within your soul, but you control it now. You are no longer bound by Myst, you are no longer bound to her or the Vampiric Fae by blood. Soul memory is strong, but you are stronger.”
His voice wove a sonorous thread through the waves of panic that swirled around me, and I caught hold of his words, using them like a string through the labyrinth into which my mind had spun.
“Lead me out. Lead me out. Bring me back to myself.” Moaning, my knees buckled, but then another hand caught me up, and Hunter, my grandfather, was holding me fast on the other side.
“I am your lineage this life, girl. You belong to my people now. We lay claim on you. While the Indigo Court may leave its mark, it will not claim you. You are the Queen of Snow and Ice, and regardless of who you were, this is who you are now. Do you hear me?” His voice was commanding, and I struggled to stand, to throw off the cloak of the past that threatened to swallow me up.