Night's End Page 28

  No. . . . I know that laugh. Please, not now. Not here like this. Ulean, can you find out if it’s who I think it is?

  A beat. Then another. And then . . .

  Myst is here. She’s waiting for you. Do you want me to go up ahead?

  My blood froze. Myst was waiting for me. If I sent Ulean, she might be able to disrupt her or banish her.

  No. You must stay behind me. I have to go. If I don’t take the offense, she will. Better I make the first move than struggle for defense. I have to go. I have to face her.

  Surely, not alone! What about your men? What about backup?

  There may not be any backup! For all we know, they might all be dead. If I wait here, she might release the light creatures from being trapped in the cavern. Then it would be over before it began. I have to go, Ulean.

  Then I will be by your side, Cicely.

  And with that I began to creep through the corridor, Ulean behind me. I was sweating cold bullets. This was about the worst scenario I could imagine—facing Myst, not having her heartstone as collateral, not having my men beside me. She had all the toys, and I was going in unarmed.

  I thought about pulling out my dagger, but then decided the fuck with it. A blade against her? Might as well tickle her fancy. No, I had two things to my advantage. One: I could turn into an owl and fly away if need be. And two: I could control the winds.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I began to run. No need giving her any more time to prepare, and she knew I was coming. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be here. Something must have warned her. The guardian we killed, perhaps, or the disruption when we banished the paralaxium to its home realm. Or maybe this had been her plan all along.

  The passage abruptly ended, opening out into yet another chamber. But this chamber had a large opening to the outside world. From where I stood, I could see what looked like an incredibly steep drop-off into the forest below.

  And to one side, on a throne of bone and crystal, sat Myst.

  Myst, queen of the Indigo Court. Myst, the mother of the Vampiric Fae. Myst, the woman who had long ago been my mother. She was tall and thin and mesmerizing with her terrible beauty. Spindly, and yet stronger than the reeds that will not break in the wind, she stood. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in jet locks, with crystals of silver running through them. Her dress was gossamer silk, deep indigo embroidered with sparkling silver threads, and her skin—a pale alabaster with a cerulean tint. Her eyes were, like all of the Shadow Hunters, pools of ink scattered with stars. And sitting beside her, glittering on a pedestal that was no doubt rigged to high heaven, was a shimmering stone. Her heartstone. I could feel the pulse of its heartbeat from here.

  She simply waited, watching as I skidded to a halt near her. I braced myself, but she did nothing. Said nothing. Just smiled a cunning smile.

  After a moment, I steeled myself and stepped forward.

  “And so we meet again. This time it is not Lainule’s heartstone up for grabs.” The last time I’d faced Myst was in a desperate race to recover Lainule’s heartstone before Myst could destroy it. I had won, but not by much, and though I had driven Myst away, it had only been temporary.

  “Welcome to my lair, Cherish. Of course you remember the Barrow. And of course, you figured out that my heartstone would be here. When my first guardian fell, I knew that you were here. So I came, quickly, to wait for you. You did not disappoint me, daughter of mine.” Her voice was throaty and rich, with a hint of madness behind the laugh.

  “I’m not Cherish. Not anymore. That was long ago, far away—in a different time. I’m no longer your daughter, but Queen of the Court of Snow and Ice. And you are an upstart who has disrupted the balance.”

  I thought about making a dodge for the heartstone, but that would be suicide. It didn’t take a degree in rocket science to know that she’d snatch me up if I got within arm’s reach. But we couldn’t stand here talking. One of us had to make the first move.

  “Cicely!”

  Gasping, I whirled to see Grieve stumbling into the cavern. He looked dazed, but he was on his feet. Behind him, Lannan was helping Check, and behind him, the Snow Hag. Whether anybody else had escaped, I couldn’t tell.

  “My disloyal lover—how good to see you again. Perhaps you’d like a taste of my gratitude?” And with that Myst was on her feet and she held up her hand. A pale beam shot forth, hitting Grieve in the chest, and he went down, screaming as convulsions racked his body.

  “No!” I threw myself at the Queen, body-slamming against her. Startled, she broke off her attack and turned on me. She let out a low hiss as she laid her hands on me. I screamed as her nails dug deep, burning where they penetrated my flesh. Leaning down, I bit her, deep, sinking my teeth into her hand.

  “Bitch!” She let go and slammed me back. I went flying against the wall, landing to slide to the ground. Grieve was on his feet, and he lunged at her as I scrambled up again. She managed to grab hold of him and wrapped her jointed fingers around his throat. He gasped, struggling as she tightened her grasp.

  “Leave him alone!” I frantically looked for something to attack her with—I knew my dagger wouldn’t make much of a dent, and then I saw it. On the ground beside her. She’d dropped an obsidian blade when she stood. I darted forward and grabbed it up.

  The obsidian blades were like crystal meth to the Shadow Hunters, fueling their destructive urges, and that tendency was still there, buried within my soul. As my fingers closed around the hilt, a shiver of arousal ran through me, and I came up, laughing. Here was power—the power of the stone to bite and claw and suck the life out of my opponents. The power of the blade to sever through muscle and bone. The power to destroy, to rend and tear and maim.

  “Taste this, you cunt.” I lunged toward her and sank the blade into her arm, twisting it as hard as I could. The joy as her blood began to pour escalated, and all I could think about was making her hurt, making her scream, feeling her bones break under my pressure.

  Myst spun around, but she held on to Grieve. I let out a growl—he was turning blue, an unnatural blue, and I knew she was killing him. My only thought was to take her down, to save the man who was mine.

  “You’re playing the wrong hand, Myst.” I jumped back, letting go of the blade. There was only one weapon I had strong enough to destroy her. As the fury took over, I closed my eyes, lowered my head, and then, I began to raise the winds.

  Come to me, my winds; come to me, heart of the storm. Be part of me, sweep through me, take me in and devour me. Embrace me with your power. I give myself to you. Lift me up and carry me forth.

  And then, two words: Gale Force.

  With a howl, the winds stirred. And then they swept in, down on me. The noise was deafening as they caught me up, sweeping me aloft on a crest of air.

  I rode the storm that swirled below me as it formed into a vortex. Hurricane. Tornado. Cyclone. Whatever the name, it swirled into the chamber, and anything not nailed down began to blow over the side. The mad joy of the winds began to overtake me. This power was stronger than any blade, any desire, any hope or fear or dream. I wanted to ride the storm into the open, to mow through the forests, to uproot trees, and to blow the roofs off the houses.

  But first, there was Myst. And she met me play for play. She towered into the chamber, icicles shooting out like lightning bolts to crash against the ground. Grieve was still in her grasp, though she was holding him like a ragdoll now, but whether she was aware she still held him, I couldn’t tell.

  “You are done. Your time is done. Your reign is done. It’s my time now, and I reclaim the long winter from you.” I threw a gust of wind barreling at her, and it struck her in the chest, knocking her back.

  She shook it off, but it had hit, and hit hard. “Contrary. Oh daughter, you should never have returned.” And with her free hand, she shot what looked like a bolt of lightning at me, only it was forked ice, and it raced to
ward my heart.

  I swept to the side and watched as it impacted against the wall, shattering as it did so, rocking the cavern.

  “I will destroy you for good, and then I will take your land, and despoil everything you hold most precious, like I did your aunt Heather.”

  That was all I needed to spur me on.

  Caught in the pure joy of the storm, the power of the winds surged through my veins as I raged toward her, streaking like a twister, spinning madly as I fell on her. She was in my grasp as my winds shook her ice.

  And then I had her throat between my hands. I called the storm to strengthen me, and began to spin, holding her by her neck. Her body stretched out as we whirled, our speed so dizzying that everything around us became a blur of motion. She let go of Grieve in order to claw at my hands, but I held fast, and my hatred and anger fueled my storm.

  And then I let go, sending her flying, and she crashed into the wall. As she fell limply to the floor, I struggled to rein in the storm, but it had me in its grasp and wouldn’t let go. Caught by the heart of the wind, I fought for control, but my mind was slipping, and I phased in and out, unable to focus.

  Then, below, I caught a glimpse of Myst crawling across the floor. Grieve was lying near the edge of the drop-off, and as she approached him, I suddenly realized she meant to push him over the edge.

  “No! Grieve!” I fought with the storm, bucking the winds.

  At that moment, a streak raced across the cavern floor. It was Lannan. He glanced up at me, then—with his golden hair glistening in the dim light—he pushed Grieve out of the way to safety. Myst managed to snare Lannan’s ankle, and, slowly, like a tree toppling, she yanked on his leg and he fell, landing half over the edge. He slowly slid forward, the only hold keeping him in the cavern that of Myst’s grasp.

  “Lannan—no. Myst, stop this!” With one last push, I shrugged off the madness and dove, landing hard on the floor. I scrambled forward, ignoring the pain in my side, toward Myst. She was holding Lannan by one ankle as he dangled over the deep ravine.

  “You love him, don’t you? You love this vampire as much as you love your Wounded King.” The words cackled out of her throat.

  Then, before I could say or do anything, Lannan shifted, dragging Myst forward with him. Startled, she turned to see what he was doing, and before she could let go, he jerked again and they both plunged over the side, into the darkness below.

  “Lannan . . . no, Lannan!” I crept forward, peering over the edge, but in the darkness I could see nothing. They were gone. As I turned, Check was staring at me, wounded but alive. He met my gaze and gave me a soft, sad smile.

  I dragged myself over to the pedestal by the throne. Myst’s heartstone still glowed, though its light was fainter, and the beat, a pale sound. I pulled out my dagger and touched the edge of the stone plinth in which Myst’s heartstone was embedded.

  Nothing happened so I took the chance. It was now or never, while she was weak. I began to pry the stone out of its bed, and after a moment, with a sucking sound, it popped free.

  I wrapped my hand in my cloak, to cover my skin, and cautiously picked up the glowing stone. Here it was. Myst’s essence, trapped so long ago and so carefully hidden. I was holding the heart of terror, the heart of the unnatural winter. Ragnarök come to rule, in the form of a beautiful woman with cravings for power not destined to belong to her.

  By destroying this stone, I would be destroying the woman who had once been my mother. I had loved her, and then I met Grieve, and that love turned to hatred. I had loved her, and she had turned on me. We had betrayed each other throughout time, until now. And it was time to end it. Time to break the cycle. Time to put to right all the damage that Geoffrey and Myst had engendered.

  I looked up to find Grieve standing there, holding himself upright by the throne. Check struggled to his feet, and then, the others straggled in. The Snow Hag. Hunter. Fearless. Mort had survived. Lannan’s other vampires.

  But the rest of our men were gone. Kaylin was gone, back to the Court of Dreams. And when this was done, Luna would be offered up on the plate of her own sacrifice. Lainule and Wrath had been forced to leave. We had lost Heather, Anadey, Rex, Leo. So many of the townspeople. All sacrificed to Myst’s thirst.

  It felt like I should say something. This was a pivotal moment in our history. An enemy thousands of years old . . . And we had come to her end. But there were no words.

  In silence, I placed the heartstone on the ground and raised my dagger.

  Ulean, will this kill her? Will my dagger do the trick?

  Oh, my dear Cicely, how can you still ask me questions? You are the Queen of Snow and Ice. Trust in your power. Trust in your intuition. Trust in yourself.

  Thank you. Thank you for being with me. For staying till the end. You mean more to me than anyone.

  I have your back. Till the day that you die, I will stay with you.

  Lannan . . . is he dead? Do you know?

  I can’t give you an answer. I don’t know. Maybe . . . maybe he lives. Vampires are resilient.

  I suppose . . . it’s time. I watched Krystal kill herself. I lost one mother already. I helped kill Heather after Myst turned her. I saved Lainule’s life but lost her in the process. And now . . . now I’m killing the only other mother I’ve ever known.

  Sometimes, life sucks.

  Yeah, sometimes, it does.

  I raised my dagger high above the heartstone and plunged it down. As the blade met the stone, it fractured slowly, a web of cracks spreading across the stone, and then—with one last shove, I let out a shout, and the stone shattered into pieces, the shards flying. And Myst’s light went out. Forever.

  Chapter 18

  And so there will always be an ending. All stories come to an end, even if it’s only to open out into yet another tale. The hero begins his journey, unsure where the path will take him, and then, after the darkest hour, he emerges victorious. But there’s always an after. Happily ever after may play true in some faerie stories, but it doesn’t hold true in the world.

  After Myst’s heartstone shattered, her light went out, and we knew she was dead. As I knelt by the remnants of what had been her essence, we heard a terrible shriek from outside and turned to see a silver streak rise into the air, soaring upward, to vanish in a shower of sparks.

  Myst was gone. Truly dead and forever out of our reach.

  I forced myself to my feet, then struggled over to Grieve. “Are you all right, love?”

  He wiped his hands across his face. “I think so. I am hurt, but I’ll survive.”

  Check managed to drag himself forward. Mort helped him. “Your Majesty . . . there are no words. You have saved us all.”

  “We will have to hunt down all her minions. We must eradicate all of the Shadow Hunters.” But in my heart, I knew there would always be two still living. For my own soul bore the blood of the Indigo Court, and Grieve was still part of that hybrid race. We would never be free of the taint, but then again, was anything ever 100 percent clear and good and pure? Black and white were mere concepts, with a thousand shades existing between the two extremes.

  Weary beyond counting, I stumbled to peer over the drop-off and stared into the blackness. Lannan was down there. Lannan had sacrificed himself to take Myst with him. He’d given me the chance to destroy her heartstone.

  “Please, be alive. Please, be down there . . . still alive.” Vampires weren’t easily destroyed. But if he was down there, and sunrise hit, it would kill him. I whirled around. “We have to find Lannan—we have to rescue him if he’s still alive, before sunrise.”

  Grieve shook his head. “Do you know how far of a drop that is? No one could survive it.”

  “Myst did, because her heartstone was still beating when I destroyed it. Lannan is a vampire. We can’t just assume he’s dead.” I gazed at my beloved, pleading. He stared at me, and I knew that
he could see into my heart. I loved Grieve more than life, but I also loved Lannan, and I knew that now. I’d hated him, I’d despised him, and part of me always would, but I needed him.

  “I’ll go looking for him. I’m still in good shape.” Mort strode up beside me. He gazed over the edge. “I can make it down there.”

  “One of the Wilding Fae might be willing to navigate the drop with a bloodsucker, without a bargain struck.” The Snow Hag gazed at me. “But only if a queen returns to her home to rest and heal.”

  “How do we get down? There is no path from here. I can fly, and so can Hunter, but Grieve, Check, and Fearless . . .” I looked around. There was no path from here, and we couldn’t go back the way we came.

  “Worry not, my granddaughter. I have called for help on the slipstream. Even now, our people are winging their way to us, and they will be able to safely transport the King and your guards.” Hunter wrapped his arm around me and gave me a long hug.

  Sure enough, within a few minutes, several owls flew into the cavern. The storm had died down and the clouds were breaking. For the first time in a long while, the stars shimmered into view. The Uwilahsidhe brought ropes and harnesses and all things needed to get Grieve, Fearless, and Check out of the cavern. Hunter and I shifted into our owl forms and flew out into the night, on calm winds, heading toward the forest below.

  Except for Mortimer and the Snow Hag, we all met back at the Veil House. By now, the temperature had risen a few degrees and the blizzard was gone. The snow would take weeks to melt, but the long winter was ready to give way, and as I flew over the yard, circling before I landed in the branches of the great oak, I thought about my life and the strange sequence of events that had brought me to this point.

  I shimmied down the tree, leaping to land in the soft snow below, and stared at the glimmer of lights in the house, suddenly missing Heather again. She had given this house its heart, but now she was gone, with all the rest, and our lives had taken twists that we never could have expected.