Dawnbreaker (21 page)

“Months ago in the bar, you showed me a stack of pictures with symbols in trees. Do you still have them?”

“Yes, in my bag,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the room we were currently sharing.

“Go get them.”

Danaus looked at me strangely for a moment, then left the room to fetch the pictures. Behind me, I heard Shelly slide off the bed and walk over to where Cynnia and I still sat on the floor.

“Is there something that I can do? After we arrived at the hotel, Danaus said that I wasn’t to use a sleep spell on Nia.”

“Nia?” I asked, looking from Shelly back to Cynnia, who gave me a weak smile, shrugged one shoulder.

“It’s a family nickname,” she admitted, then gave a soft sigh and shook her head a little. “Actually, only Nyx ever used it. I don’t mind Shelly calling me Nia,” Cynnia continued. “She’s been nice to me.”

I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes to keep from snapping irritably at both of them. Cynnia was a prisoner. I kept repeating this, but it seemed like I was the only one who was actually listening to this tale. She wasn’t a puppy or a goldfish that we were keeping. We didn’t need to be establishing a friendship with a creature that I ultimately planned to kill.

“If you didn’t use a sleep spell, what’s the magic that I can feel in the air?” I asked Shelly when I was sure I could keep my voice even and calm.

“A cloaking spell.”

“It’s not working. I had no trouble spotting her when I entered the room,” I said with a frown.

“It’s not a cloaking spell against nightwalkers. It’s only supposed to work on the naturi,” Shelly corrected. “It’s like a special kind of glamour.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Glamour doesn’t work on naturi. And when did you learn a spell that worked specifically against the naturi?”

“Nia taught it to me.”

My head snapped back to look at the naturi that was still seated in front of me, a tentative smile touching her pale lips. “She needed help,” she said, “and I can’t rely on you completely to protect me. I know a few tricks. If I can’t use them, I don’t see any harm in teaching Shelly.”

I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of Cynnia teaching Shelly magic when I wasn’t around. But then, it wouldn’t really matter if I was present or not. I didn’t know enough magic to recognize whether Cynnia was truly teaching Shelly a cloaking spell or possibly a tracking spell. Much to my chagrin, I actually had to trust Cynnia, and I didn’t like it.

Danaus chose that moment to enter the hotel room again, saving me from making a rude comment.

“Are there any naturi in or near the hotel?” I demanded as soon as he closed and locked the door again. I felt his powers rush out of his body and fill the room before pushing out to encompass the entire structure. Closing my eyes, I reached out with my own powers, connecting with his in such a way that I rode the energy out of the hotel. I couldn’t sense anything beyond the scattering of humans and the nightwalkers in the city, but for now I needed the feel of his warm energy to soothe my frazzled nerves.

You need to feed,
he said in my mind while our powers mingled.

Soon,
I whispered back, not needing the reminder.

It’s becoming a distraction.

I can handle it.

You’re not the only one that’s being distracted.

A part of me wanted to smile at the reminder that Danaus could sense my hunger as well. The stronger the blood lust grew, the more difficult it became for him to be around me. He never told me exactly how it affected him, but I was willing to bet that the consequences were not happy ones. For me, it fed my more predatory side, making me more violent and more willing to take unnecessary risks. And then the feeding itself frequently turned into something sexual with the right partner, though it wasn’t necessary.

Without the blood lust clawing at the inside of my brain, feeding was nothing more exciting that grabbing a hamburger at a local fast-food location. However, when the world before you was covered in a haze of blood, the act of feeding could be positively orgasmic. It definitely made me wonder about my dear Danaus.

“There are a few naturi a couple blocks away, but Cynnia is the only naturi that I can sense in the hotel,” he finally said. “And I can’t technically sense her.”

“The pictures?” I asked, reaching over my shoulder toward him.

Danaus slapped the sheaf of color pictures into my open hand. The edges were wrinkled and worn from their journey. So far, they had traveled from Savannah, Aswan, London, Venice, Heraklion, and then back to Savannah again. It was amazing they had survived.

“Danaus, I want you to take Shelly to find some food for her and Cynnia. The naturi is starting to look a little pale, and I don’t need her dying before I’m ready,” I said, my gaze never wavering from Cynnia as she watched me.

“I don’t like this, Mira,” he said, making no effort to hide his disapproval. I could feel his worry and anger beating against my back as he stood near me.

“I don’t expect you to,” I snapped. “Just do it and be quick about it. I promise not to kill her without you here.”

“Mira, please don’t talk like that. Nia has been cooperating with your every request,” Shelly argued. “Maybe we can find another way.”

“Shelly, get out of here. Take Danaus with you. If you want to be sure that ‘Nia’ remains safe, then I suggest that you don’t dawdle.”

No one spoke again. There was only the sound of two pairs of footsteps and the slam of the door. I smirked at Cynnia, who was watching me, no expression on her weary face.

“Alone at last,” I said.

“You’re not going to kill me,” Cynnia boldly announced, lifting her chin in a moment of bravery.

I laughed at her, tossing my head back as I resettled myself on the floor with my legs crossed before me. “Of course I’m going to kill you eventually. But for now, you seem willing to help me, and if you haven’t guessed yet, I’ll take all the help I can get to keep your sister Aurora locked in her own realm. I’ll also take any help I can get against Rowe, so it seems we’re on the same side.”

“Like you and Danaus. He’s a nightwalker hunter, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but there’s a very distinct difference between you and Danaus.” Smiling again, I leaned forward so my elbows rested on my knees. “I don’t hate Danaus with every fiber of my being. What happens between Danaus and I is still up in the air. When this is over, I’d be willing to let him walk away. You? Not so much.”

“So, what can I do to prolong my life?” Cynnia asked.

“Take a look at these.” I handed over the pictures of the trees that Danaus had shown me just a few months ago, the ones that started me down this long horrible journey. There were twelve different pictures of twelve different types of trees. Each tree had a different symbol carved into it. Neither Danaus nor I had been able to figure out what it meant, but now we at least had a naturi at our disposal. The mystery might finally be solved.

Cynnia slowly moved, crossing her legs before her as well so she could more easily spread the photos out on the floor before her. She flipped through each one, her eyes pausing over a symbol for less than a second before moving on to the next.

“Trees,” she murmured. That had pretty much been my reaction, but I hadn’t expected it out of the naturi. This was their handwriting. It had to mean something to her.

“I noticed that the pictures were of trees as well,” I said between clenched teeth as I struggled to keep my temper under control. “I was hoping you could enlighten us as to what the symbols meant.” If I hadn’t known better, I would have said that she was toying with me.

“I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure? How can you not be sure?” I grabbed up a few of the photos and shook them at her. “This is your language, isn’t it? Your writing?”

“Yes, but some of them are just symbols used in spells. I’m not that strong a spell weaver. I know enough to protect myself, it’s all I was ever taught.”

And suddenly that struck me as odd. Why hadn’t Aurora seen to it that her youngest sister was well-versed in their own magical arts? Cynnia had never tried to physically attack us, and she had cooperated with Danaus during her one chance to escape when her manacles were off. Had Aurora purposefully kept her little sister weak? It was a thought I was content to let stew for a while.

Spreading the twelve pictures out between us in three neat little rows, I drew in a slow, steadying breath. I caught a whiff of her own unique scent this time over the stale scent of dust and some kind of cleaning product from the nearby bathroom. She smelled of spring rain and yellow tulips. “Can you read any of this?” I asked, feeling a little calmer.

“Yes, some of these are words, but I don’t know what order any of this goes in.” She picked up one picture that looked like a birch tree. “This one means ‘open,’ and this one means ‘welcome,’” she continued, picking up another picture of what appeared to be a type of palm tree. Cynnia put those two pictures aside and scanned over the rest. “This one over here refers to a ‘weary traveler,’” she said, putting aside a picture of blue spruce.

As she pulled pictures out of the three rows, I carefully rearranged them before her so she could clearly see each one. None of it made sense to me so far, but I was hoping that as we identified more pieces of this puzzle, a picture would become clear.

“There isn’t a clear translation for this one between our two languages,” she said, pulling up one that looked like a maple tree.

“Can you give me something close?”

“Maybe…‘forgotten path.’ Or ‘hidden road.’”

That didn’t feel particularly reassuring, and a knot twisted in my stomach. I had yet to guess what the naturi were up to with this assortment of pictures, and I felt more anxious the closer we drew to the evening of the equinox and the coming sacrifice. Rowe had something special planned up his sleeve.

With the pictures whittled down to two rows of four, I noticed that Cynnia had stopped picking them up, her brow furrowed in concentration as she stared at each one. Every once in a while she would rearrange them into a particular order and then shake her head again, as whatever she was looking for failed to appear.

“Is there anything else here that you recognize?”

She sighed, her eyes slowly traveling over the remaining eight pictures. I noticed that her hand trembled slightly when she reached for one picture that was on my far left. I had always hated that picture. It was hard to tell from the darkness of the image, but it looked like the symbol had been carved into the dark, thick bark of a live oak tree, just like one of the hundreds of live oaks that dotted the historical district of my beloved Savannah.

“This one means ‘home,’” she said, then shook her head. “But not just the idea of home as the place where you live. It’s home as in Earth—our home.”

Nodding, I took the picture from her and added it to the pile that she had already identified. “What about the rest?”

“Just magical symbols. They don’t equal words, ideas, or phrases to me. They’re used for some kind of spell.”

“Spell? Not message?”

“I doubt it’s a message of any kind unless the naturi on this side have developed their own kind of shortened language or base of symbols. It’s possible, but it looks like these trees are from all over the globe. You would need to see most if not all of the message to make sense of it. I’ve seen it all and it doesn’t make sense to me,” she admitted. She picked up one of the pictures that she couldn’t identify and shook her head before putting it back on the floor. “I’ve thought about the symbol and what it resembles, and the potential relation to the type of tree that it’s in, but I’m coming up with nothing. Why are some easily identifiable words and the rest is just nonsense?”

“I need answers, Cynnia, not more questions,” I snapped, resting my head against my hand while placing my elbow on my right knee.

“Sorry.”

I glared up at her, curling my lip up to reveal one of my fangs. She quickly held up her manacled hands as if to ward me off.

“I’m serious. I’m sorry that I can’t help you with this. Helping you means that I get to stay alive a little bit longer.”

“So you’re willing to sell out your own kind just so you can live a little while longer?”

“No,” she quickly said, then frowned as she looked down at the iron manacles on her wrists. “Not really.” She drew in a slow breath and closed her eyes, holding back tears that I saw suddenly rise to the surface. “I’ve not told you anything that would endanger my people. They’ve cast some kind of spell using symbols in trees, but I can’t tell you what the spell is. It’s honestly beyond my knowledge.”

“And if it wasn’t? If you could identify the spell, would you tell me?” I asked, straightening my back as I watched her closely.

“I—I don’t know,” Cynnia replied. “I don’t know what I would do. Yes, they’re my people and I know I should do everything within my power to protect them. And according to our laws, that means killing any nightwalker or human that we come into contact with. Yet, they’ve called me a traitor when I’ve done nothing to betray them.” She shook her head and a tear slipped out from beneath her right eyelid, which she quickly wiped away with a jangle of chains. “They left me for dead, to be killed by the infamous Fire Starter, because they were too afraid to kill their queen’s sister. They left you to do their dirty work, sure you would give me a tortured and gruesome end.”

“So the question becomes, why protect them?” I asked. It was a question I’d had to answer myself on more than one occasion during the past couple of months. And every time I did, I was left wondering if I had made a mistake.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

I smiled at her and shook my head. “And what exactly is the ‘right thing’? That’s the true sticking point in this mess. I truly wish you luck in figuring that out. I’m still looking myself.”

There was a knock at the door, and my hand instantly went to the knife at my side even though I had already sensed Danaus’s approach down the hall, with Shelly following directly behind him.

“Mira, I won’t lie to you,” Cynnia quickly said before Danaus could come into the room. “If it comes down to telling you something that would betray and hurt my people and lying to you, I will simply refuse to tell you.”