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  I closed my eyes, searching for ghosts, searching for shades from the past, but nothing had happened here to the people of the Indigo Court. The only blood to stain our walls and floors had been that of our meals. We were the ones who had perpetuated the slaughter, not the victims.

  The quiet unsettled me. There should be ghosts. There should be screaming specters racing through the hallways, considering how bloodthirsty we were and how many we had killed. But nothing. Just a deep emptiness that echoed through the Barrow.

  “Why does this feel so alien? I lived here, it was my home, and yet it has no life of its own. Maybe that’s it. This feels like an empty house that was abandoned but that never took on a personality.”

  Lannan surprised me by speaking up. “Barrows, from what I understand, are almost as much of a living organism as the Fae who inhabit them. But this place can never quite be the same. Myst is an unnatural creature bent on achieving something for which she was never destined. I think she may have created it in almost a mockery of the Barrows she coveted but wasn’t allowed to rule.”

  That made sense. She could never create a true Fae Barrow because she was hybrid. The Vampiric Fae were neither vampire nor Fae, but a demonic blend of both, and so anything coming out of the Indigo Court would be as alien as the Shadow Hunters were. And this Barrow? As devoid of charm and any sense of welcoming as Myst.

  I crossed to the opposite wall and searched. The stone was cold and unyielding to the touch but then, after a few moments, I felt the shallow depression and pressed it. A secret door slid open, and I glanced at the others.

  “We found it. I guess . . . it’s time to go?” It took me a moment to figure out they were waiting for my orders. I swallowed my fear and motioned for Check to take the lead again. This was as far as I remembered, and I’d never been down this secret passage. We’d all be flying blind from here on out, and I recognized my duty to my Court. I couldn’t go in the forefront now that we had found the passage.

  As Check stepped past me to enter the passage, he stopped then turned to say, “We won’t need illumination here. It still glows. Her heartstone must still be at its core or the light would die out.” With that he moved forward, followed by Fearless. I was third, then after me, Grieve, Hunter, Lannan, and the rest of the guards. Now that Kaylin was gone, we were thirteen, not counting Ulean.

  Once again, for the third time in the past two months, I was following the path in search of a heartstone. One of those times, it had been to retrieve Lainule’s gem in order that she wouldn’t die. The other had been to hide my own. This time, I was in search of one to use as a weapon—to destroy Myst.

  Third time’s the charm.

  The corridor in Myst’s unnatural Barrow was dark, but an icy-neon-blue light broke through the darkness. Considering she drove the snows, I had expected to find this place set in a world of ice and snow, like my own, but instead, it was deep rock and shadow. Myst might fancy herself the Queen of Winter, but she had stolen the title and was co-opting the storms. A thought crossed my mind as we hurried along the corridor.

  Ulean, when Myst is defeated, will I gain her power over the winter? I am the Queen of Snow and Ice, yet I’m a wind witch.

  You already have power over the winter; you just haven’t had the time to learn how to use it.

  Her answer startled me and set me to thinking. If I had been given the power over snow and ice when I’d taken the throne, why hadn’t I known about it—or at least been told about it? And how long would it take me to learn how to use it? Could I possibly use it as a weapon against Myst now?

  Ulean—can I—

  No. I know what you’re going to ask, Cicely, and the answer is no. You don’t have the power to use it against Myst. She’s too well versed in the energy, and you would be like a child trying to code a complex program. You’re new to the realm you now rule, even though you were destined for the throne. Just because you wear the title doesn’t mean you can claim the power yet. Once this is over, Strict and the shamans will help you learn to control the winter storms. You will be more powerful than most other Fae Queens, save for those in the Great Courts.

  How so?

  Because you already can summon the winds and you are half magic-born, which increases your ability to use those powers.

  I’m a hybrid, like Myst, then.

  A hybrid, yes—in a way. But like Myst? No, never. Not even though you were her daughter. You may find yourself to be more stoic than others because of that lifetime, and because of that life, you will wear the power of the throne well once you discover your confidence, but Cicely, trust that you’ll never become Myst. You have heart, and you have love and compassion. And those three things cancel out whatever heritage she may have left your soul.

  Somewhat comforted, I studied the walls as we passed through the tunnel. “What is this rock?”

  Hunter gave me an odd look. “Rock is rock.”

  I grinned at him. “No, I mean is it granite or basalt or . . .”

  “Ah, yummanii terms. I don’t know the definitions, but this rock is lava rock and came from deep in the world, uplifted by a great force and pressure as the mountains folded under the earth’s plates. The rock tempered over time. And here it exists both in the world and yet outside of it, as do all lands within the scope of the Barrows, and Barrow places. But yes, it is a hard, unyielding stone.”

  “But how did Myst create this? She was one of the Unseelie—the Dark Fae. But she wasn’t a queen, and she wasn’t, I gather, particularly powerful compared to the shamans. Even though she was turned by Geoffrey, how did she end up as . . . well . . . as the great and powerful Myst?” I grimaced at my own pun, even as I said it. The wizard of Oz had been a charlatan, illusion and parlor tricks. Myst was far more than that.

  From directly behind me, Hunter laughed. “I can tell you a little about that. Live as long as I do, hide in the forests and shadows long enough, and you learn things. When my son, Wrath, took the throne of Summer, he kept in touch with me, and I was privy to many secrets that would have otherwise gone untold.”

  A shiver raced up my spine, but it was a good one. My grandfather had stories to tell me. The thought that I might spend years to come curled up by a fire with him, learning about our people while the winter raged outside our Barrow, sounded positively delightful.

  “You know the story of how Myst and Geoffrey plotted to seize control of the Unseelie Fae and the vampires by working together?”

  I nodded. “When she found out she was more powerful than he, she double-crossed him and killed most of his men. That’s what started the war between the true vampires and the Vampiric Fae, right Lannan?”

  Lannan grunted but pushed a few steps closer. “Yes, that’s right. Both of the fools were mad, if you ask me. But then, it takes a madman to think he can be so wanton and fly in the face of established order. The Crimson Court only kept Geoffrey around after that incident because he was more dangerous to let go. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and all of that folderol. I think, too, there may have been some sort of misguided loyalty in letting him remain alive, but it was not our place to speak up. Even my sister doesn’t understand the reasoning of our Queen at times. It’s not up to us to question her motives, however. We are to simply obey.”

  Check pointed out a root in the floor, and I skirted it, in turn pointing it out to Hunter and Lannan.

  Hunter lithely hopped over it. “Well, after communications broke down and Myst and Geoffrey had established their feud, Myst went into hiding. She knew she wasn’t powerful enough yet to take on more than the handful of vampires she already had. So she and her fellow companions, all of whom she had turned, first returned to the Fae Barrows, but nobody knew what to do with them there. They retreated into the wilds. I believe it was about that time that the Shadow Hunter nature began to exert itself, and they were exiled from the Fae communities for good.”


  “So it was sink or swim for her.” I tried to imagine what she might have felt—alone with just her few companions, disowned by her people and knowing the vampires were out to get her. No wonder she’d gone a little nuts.

  “Don’t feel too sorry for her. Myst was power hungry before she was turned, and the transformation only left her more so. She went into hiding and began ordering her people to kidnap whatever Fae they happened across. They started turning them to increase their forces, but it didn’t always work right.”

  “So they started abducting Fae . . . but what about children? I know they can breed.” What I wanted to ask, but wasn’t quite ready to, was When was I born?

  “Around that time, one of the women found out she was pregnant and the baby was born vicious, changed—more powerful than the parents themselves. That was when they realized they could still reproduce, and so began to build their community through forced breeding. Because of the cerulean cast to the children’s skin, Myst named her realm the Indigo Court, and firmly punished anybody who tried to go up against her. I gather she was gifted with a knack for torture, and her people began to fear her.”

  Enforced breeding, kidnapping, anything for survival. “Did Myst anticipate being where she’s at now? Did she always look to ruling the world?”

  Hunter gave me a sad smile. “Don’t dictators always anticipate wielding great power? I don’t think she thought it would be in this manner, but yes, I think she always wanted to rule the world. She had kidnapped a couple shamans first thing, from her people. While I’m not sure how, she forced them to develop rituals to transfer more power to her. Somewhere along the line, she ended up with power over the winter weather, and over spiders, and she became Queen Myst, of the Indigo Court.”

  I wondered if she’d killed them, to absorb their power. Or maybe, turned and obeying her, they’d been willing to help her grow and evolve.

  “In some ways, I have to admit I admire Myst.” I didn’t want to say the words aloud, but it felt like they should be said, as an acknowledgment to my enemy’s strength. Never underestimate your opponent, and always remember how strong they are.

  “Why? Because she was your mother?” Hunter wasn’t being a smart ass. He was asking a real question.

  “No. I mean, yes, she was my mother . . . but no, that’s not why I admire her. She took a situation that had gone terribly wrong and turned it to her advantage. She didn’t give in; she stood up and took charge. She’s a survivor, and she does whatever she needs to in order to see her people thrive. It may be some real freaky-assed crap she pulls, but she has goals, and she’s following her dream.”

  Lannan snorted. “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at him. He grinned. “True enough. But what can I say? The woman is ambitious. Just because I admit that, doesn’t mean I won’t do my best to destroy her.”

  “Good to know.” He started to say more but then stopped, pointing ahead.

  I turned. There, in front of us, stood a door. Most likely it would lead us to the first guardian. Meaning the first adversary. And all guardians of all heartstones were set to fight to the death.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned and motioned to Check. “Everybody at the ready. Weapons at hand, please. Expect trouble on the other side, if this follows the usual pattern of things. Check, once we’re ready, open the door, and let’s see what we’re facing.”

  As Check reached for the handle, I clutched my dagger, the hilt solidly implanted in the palm of my hand. We might find a monster on the other side, or a ghost, or a riddle or . . . who knew what?

  Check opened the door, quickly to take whatever might be on the other side by surprise. And there, in the middle of the archway, blocking our path, was the first guardian at the gate. We were facing a gigantic snow weaver, and the eight-legged freak looked overly delighted to see us.

  Chapter 16

  The snow weaver made no move to attack, but waited, blocking the entry. We were facing Myst’s first guardian, which meant we were on the right track to finding her heartstone. But considering it was a guardian, the snow weaver was bound to be more powerful and magical than its kin.

  Check jumped back out of reach as the rest of us took a step back.

  “Lovely. Just lovely.” I tapped my dagger against my hand, trying to figure out our best approach. “Watch your ears, guys. And eyes. The snow weavers are deadly, and they can charm the hell out of you. There won’t be any reasoning with it. It’s either My way or the highway.”

  As we shifted into a semicircle around the door, the spider’s crafty gaze followed us, taking in every movement. Most guardians seemed to be able to talk, so I thought about engaging it, but the fact that snow weavers were versed in luring in their victims meant a conversation wasn’t all that appetizing of a thought. At least not from my side of the fence.

  Ulean, what do you suggest?

  This one is cunning and wily. I sense a great hunger, and she cannot let you pass; therefore, you must fight her. Be watchful for her magic. The siren song is deep within her, and I think you may have a difficult battle on your hands if you let her speak.

  Great. A female? They tend to be more deadly than the males.

  Always the way, Cicely. Always the way.

  I turned to Check. “We fight, but if she begins to speak, we have to silence her.” Before we could move, however, a faint whisper of song sprang up, and the first few bars instantly plunged me into a deep sadness, filling me with regret. The music shifted then, ever slightly, and promised hope if only I’d reach out and embrace the singer. I struggled against the desire to move forward, all too aware that this was the snow weaver’s trap. She really was a siren.

  Cicely—don’t listen and tell your men to fight her song!

  I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I know, I’m trying to shake out of it enough to—Fuck!

  One of the guards—one of our men—had lurched forward and was nearly within reach of her long, jointed legs. Check leaped forward, grabbing the man by the arm and slamming him back, throwing him to the ground. The guard groaned, but his eyes cleared, and he struggled to his feet and scrambled back.

  The snow weaver let out a noise that sounded like a heavy sigh, and the song intensified, but Ulean swept through with a huge gust of wind to divert the music into the slipstream, away from us. The resulting static disrupted the spell and the spider fell silent, but the feeling of malevolence grew stronger, and I had the feeling she was pissed out of her mind that we’d put a stop to her magical song.

  “We have to go in. She’s probably not going to try to lure us again, and if she does, Ulean seems to be able to disrupt her. But she’s deadly, so one bite can kill.” I glanced back at the guards. “I hate to say this, but Lannan, one of your men might be the best bet. You guys are already dead.”

  He gave me one of those looks and shook his head. “No, we are not dead. Well, yes we are, but there’s a lack of respect in your words, dear Cicely. However, that aside, I concur. Her poison cannot harm us.” Motioning to his burliest guard, he said, “Mort, get your ass in there and do your best to skewer her. She needs to die.”

  Mort—I supposed it was short for Mortimer—stepped forward. He was tall and stocky, a barrel-chested man who fit the uniform he was wearing, which happened to be a pair of dark jeans, a Metallica T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He wore a motorcycle cap that was studded with little spikes. As he moved toward the spider, he pulled out a wicked-looking knife with a long serrated blade.

  The snow weaver shifted as he moved toward her, and the glint in her eyes told me that she recognized he was ready to rumble. She scuttled into a better position so she could use her web for balance and yet rear up, ready to strike.

  Mort gauged the distance between them and eyed her soft underbelly. That’s where the majority of spiders were most vulnerable. As he
jockeyed for position, so did she, and it was like some macabre dance—the vampire and the spider, trying to find their perfect balance.

  And then, because somebody had to make the first move, and she was obviously waiting for him to, Mort leaped forward, sweeping his blade through the air to land in the belly of the snow weaver.

  The spider reared up again, then fell on him, plunging her fangs deep into his shoulder. He let out a string of curses, but pulled out the knife and struck her again. She scuttled back, tearing herself off the blade with a sucking sound.

  I thought I detected a hint of confusion in her look. Mort wasn’t dead; he wasn’t on the ground. Which meant chances were good that she didn’t know he was a vampire and immune to her poisons.

  Mort followed her, but she stopped at the edge of the door. She wouldn’t run away. She was a guardian, bound to stay and fight, and she was doing her damnedest. She leaped forward, oozing blood and fluid from her abdomen, and landed on Mort again, once more sinking her fangs into him. She missed his heart—a good thing—and one last time, he brought his blade up, directly beneath her as she straddled him. The snow weaver shuddered, and the lights in her multifaceted eyes went out. The vampire shoved her off him, and then stabbed her again to make certain she was dead.

  “Good work.” Lannan helped Mort up and examined his wounds. Though the gaping holes in his clothes were still there, his wounds were already healing over. He’d be fine. His heart was intact, and therefore his body would heal.

  “Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say, but acknowledging that he’d saved us a good deal of trouble and lives lost seemed important. “Are you all right? Did she harm you?”

  Mort gave me a long look. It was impossible to read what was behind those dark eyes. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m fine.”

  Well, he was certainly more polite than his boss. There was no sarcasm in his words, and for once, I wasn’t left with a sour taste in my mouth. I motioned for Check to take a gander through the door. He quietly sidled up to it and peered around the corner. After a moment, he leaned back.