Authors: Yasmine Galenorn

Night Veil (10 page)

“Rhia,” I said softly. “I have to do this. We need Kaylin. He’s
your
friend; I’m surprised you’re so against this. He’ll die—or worse, become a vegetable—if we don’t help him.”

Her eyes blurred with tears as she clutched the saucer in her hand. “I lost my mother. I can’t lose you, too.”

I took the saucer from her and put it in the rack. “I won’t let anything happen. I’ll come back with help for Kaylin. I promise you.”

She leaned against the sink, hands clutching the porcelain, shoulders shaking. “I’m just so scared. I miss my mother. I hate what happened to her and I don’t want that to happen to you. What would I do without you?”

I slipped an arm around her. “That’s not going to happen, but if by chance anything does, go to Anadey and ask her for help. Listen to what she says. I want you to promise me.”

Rhiannon’s face crumbled, but she nodded. “I promise. I’m not as strong as you are, Cicely. In some ways, Krystal’s lack of care prepared you to handle all of this better than Heather’s love ever did me. I’m frightened, but I’m trying to learn to be strong. For so long I hid from myself. I felt tainted. Now, I have to learn how to use my powers and learn fast.”

“We’re
all
learning. We’re all learning how to survive. Rhia . . . more than just our personal lives rest on this. Myst is draining away Lainule’s power. Summer will fade and the winter will settle in if we don’t stop her. And to stop Myst, we need Kaylin.” I took her hands in mine and gazed into her reddened eyes. “I
have
to do this. I’ll take Chatter and Peyton with me. You and Leo keep watch over Kaylin and the house. Okay?”

She let out a shuddering breath and hung her head. “I guess we don’t have a choice.”

“No, we don’t. Because even if we run, Myst has other colonies out there, and they will be edging into other towns, and bringing the winter with them, and their hunger . . . no place is safe. Magic-born, Were, vampire, yummanii, we’re all on the hit list.”

Rhia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Very well, what do you need from me? What can I do to help?”

“That’s the Rhia I know and love!” I kissed her cheek. “Can you throw together sandwiches that we can eat on the move? I’m going to change into something warmer.” As I headed toward the stairs, Rhiannon moved to the refrigerator and started taking out bread and ham and cheese. Though her lip still trembled, her chin was set and she looked resolved.

We set out a half hour later, armed with whatever weaponry we could find. Chatter had raided Kaylin’s closet and was wearing a pair of white jeans, a black-and-whitestriped turtleneck, and a black Windbreaker. He looked oddly out of place in the clothes, but they would provide both camouflage and warmth.

Peyton and I wore jeans with sturdy hiking boots. I’d layered a sweatshirt over a light V-neck sweater, and then topped it off with one of my aunt’s Windbreakers. Peyton had borrowed a jacket from Leo’s closet—it fit her broad shoulders better than anything Rhiannon or I owned would have.

We climbed in the car and Rhiannon drove us down the road about three miles, stopping at a turnout by the side of the road. Chatter had taken into account the location of the trail we needed to intercept. If we started from this point, the Shadow Hunters—if any were braving the pain caused by the light and were out and about—wouldn’t see us coming from the house. And neither would their spies who were watching our borders.

We climbed out of the car. I hugged Rhia and she silently lifted a hand in salute as we headed off the road, picking our way over a rather large snowbank, to enter the thick of the forest.

The sky was overcast with heavy white clouds as the snow lightly floated down, flakes dancing on the currents. Ulean swept around us, trying to ward them off, until I asked her to stop. No matter what, we were going to get wet, and the currents she swept up in trying to blow away the snowflakes were colder than the snow itself.

We plowed through the knee-deep snow, slogging our way under the shadow of the trees. It was going to be a long march and I doubted that we’d get out before dark. For one thing, when we entered the Court of Dreams, we had no clue what to expect.

The forest was silent, except for the kiss of snow on snow. The fir and cedar were bundled in their white coats and reminded me of a Christmas card, but the lack of noise was disturbing. No birds twittered, no sound of animals came breaking through the undergrowth; in fact, there was no sign that any living thing walked the back paths of this woodland.

Our breath came in thick clouds, and my face was already raw with the chill. Chatter walked lightly on top of the snow, barely leaving any footprints behind, but Peyton and I weren’t so fortunate.

“It would be so much easier to fly there, but then I wouldn’t have any clothes once I changed back,” I said, keeping my voice low. Never knew who might be listening behind what bush.

“We already know what their spiders are like,” Chatter said. “But beware—the Ice and Snow Elementals are dangerous if they are bound to one such as Myst. You can’t really kill them. They’ll just re-form if you shatter them.”

“Should I have brought Rhiannon, with her fire?”

He shook his head. “She’s not strong enough to make the journey. You and Peyton are versed in fighting, and you’re both tough. Rhiannon and her beau aren’t as skilled or as physically fit.” When he said the word
beau
I heard a catch in his voice. Chatter had a crush on my cousin and everybody knew it, but nobody wanted to touch the subject.

“Have you ever been to the Court of Dreams?” I quickened my pace, wanting to be through the woods before afternoon.

“No, Miss Cicely. I haven’t. Grieve has, though. He went once, against the Queen’s orders. I remember he got in so much trouble.” His voice broke again, and he shook his head, as if to shake off the past. “Best not to dwell on times long gone. Even if we win, nothing will ever be the same again.”

Peyton cleared her throat. “No, they won’t, but perhaps they won’t be as dire as you think. Sometimes change brings new growth. I know that sounds like a platitude, but honestly, it’s true. When my father ran off, my mother had to change our entire way of life. I was too little to remember most of it, but I do remember we had to move out of our big house into a tiny apartment, and that suddenly, Da was gone. He never came back, and the abandonment still hurts, but we survived. We learned to enjoy life again.”

I smiled at her, shivering. “I never had a home, except for the Veil House. It’s the only place I ever carried in my heart, because it stood for stability. Heather was the only mother figure I knew. My own mother . . . Krystal was . . .”

I paused, flashing back to all the nights on the run, trying to escape apartment managers after their money, and johns who were angry because Krystal stole from them after she’d fucked them. I’d catch a snippet on the wind and away we’d run. Though my mother hated her magic—and mine—she took advantage of it when it promised to keep her out of trouble.

The only stability during those years came from Uncle Brody, who I met when I was seven and who taught me the rules of survival as best as he could, and the few months we lived with Dane, the man who had tattooed me, and who’d been in love with Krystal. But she blew that one, just as she fucked up everything in our lives, and we were out on the streets again, and Dane died from a gunman’s bullet.

I’d learned to use the wind to help me survive. Ulean warned me of danger, warned me when we needed to move or when there was an opportunity I might miss. She—and the wind—kept us alive on the margins of society.

I shook my head. “Krystal was a fuck-up. She was weak and she died because she couldn’t face reality. I’ll never let myself become like her.” A glance at the sky told me the snow was falling faster. “Come on, let’s make tracks and get to the portal. Chatter, lead the way?”

As we pushed deeper into the wood, the world faded except for the stark, barren trees, evergreens blanketed with a layer of white, and brush and rocks hidden by the snow. We must have been walking for half an hour when a noise startled me. I motioned for the others to stop.

“Did you hear that?” I kept my voice as low as I could and still be heard. Chatter could hear me if I spoke in the slipstream, but Peyton couldn’t.

Chatter nodded, motioning to our left. The noise was coming from deeper in the woods, and whatever it was, it sounded like it was moving closer. I thought for a moment. We could hurry, try to outpace it, but it sounded like it was coming in fast, and we couldn’t run through the snow. We could meet it, take the offensive, or we could wait. There was no place to hide, that was for sure—unless Peyton and I shifted and Chatter vanished. But that would require getting naked in the cold, and I didn’t fancy that.

I readied my switchblade and fan, and Peyton readied the walking stick she’d been carrying. Chatter took a deep breath and moved into fighting stance.

At that moment, the creature broke through and my heart sank. It wasn’t one of the Shadow Hunters, but what we were facing could be far more dangerous. I’d heard of them, but they usually inhabited cold mountaintops or the northern forests.

Ulean, are you ready?

I am here. Be cautious. This one is dangerous. She is old and crafty.

Chatter gasped. “A snow hag!”

She appeared to be a withered old woman, but she was far more than that. Members of the Wilding Fae, inclined toward evil, snow hags were usually magically summoned by powerful entities.
Like Myst.
Far more dangerous than any tillynok or goblin, snow hags wielded dark magic. And this one looked ready to rumble.

Chapter 5

“Crap!” I tripped over a root, I tried to back away so fast. Primal and feral, the Wilding ones were always dangerous, always unpredictable.

But she didn’t attack, although she looked prepared to. She eyed the three of us, one of her withered hands scratching her chin. Her limbs were long and bone-thin, and she was gaunt, with one tooth showing that curled out of her mouth and over her bottom lip. Her hair was straggled white and looked like cotton batting, and she was dressed in gray rags, with her equally thin legs bowed out, bending at the knees on large pointed feet.

“What have we here?” Her voice whistled like dry husks. “I smell Cambyra Fae on the both of you.” She pointed to Chatter and me. I glanced curiously at Chatter—I knew he was Fae but hadn’t realized he was also Cambyra, and now I wondered what he shifted into.

“But you, pretty girl . . . what are you? I smell . . .” The snow hag lifted her nose and sniffed at Peyton, a loud and snuffly sound. “Big cat. Shifter, but a Were. Am I right?” Her keen gaze cut through the snow, piercing.

Peyton glanced at me, looking for a clue. I wasn’t sure, so I held my place and watched Chatter, who moved to block the way between her and us.

“Snow hag, what are you doing here?” He stood taller and seemed more commanding than I’d ever seen him.

“You would love to know. But surely you must guess who summoned me. I am in the same clutches you are. But she feeds me meat for my services, at least. Bound I am, unless another frees me, a welcome thought.” Her eyes were glinting and I didn’t trust her, but Chatter nodded.

He turned to me and whispered on the slipstream.
She’s giving us a hint. She wants out from under Myst’s control.

What can we offer her? How do you deal with snow hags? I’ve heard of them but never had any associations with them, obviously, since I lived in big cities most of my life.

When I’d lived in L.A. and San Francisco, the Fae were common but they were hot-weather Fae who had been urbanized by encroaching society. Vamps also preferred the bigger cities, while the magic-born tended to prefer smaller towns where there was more access to the wilds. But the Wilding Fae—they weren’t suited to life among others.

He nodded.
Then let me take the reins, Miss Cicely.

Be my guest.

The snow hag must have known we were talking about her, but she waited patiently, not moving to attack, simply staring at us with expectant, bulbous eyes.

Chatter cleared his throat. “Someone binds you. Someone else would bind you stronger if you have the will.”

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