Authors: Yasmine Galenorn
Night Veil (16 page)
“I thought it was already part of him,” Chatter said.
“So did I, but apparently what happened was that as it merged with his DNA and died, it left behind a hatchling. And it’s ready to hatch.”
“Ah.” Chatter nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something else.
“What is it? And don’t say ‘nothing.’ You’re upset about Grieve.”
“You should not count on him. I love him perhaps more than you—he’s like a brother to me, but I’m practical. Grieve belongs to Myst, and Myst won’t take lightly to anybody tampering with her toys.”
I let out a short sigh. “No offense, but I don’t give a fuck what you—or Leo—or Rhiannon thinks. You know that Grieve and I’ve been together before, in another life. I was part of the Indigo Court, he was Cambyra Fae. We were in love and we were hunted down and we bound our souls together before we killed ourselves. We’re here to even the score, we’re here to find each other.
I will not lose him again
, do you understand?”
I will not lose him again
, do you understand?”
Chatter’s eyes flashed and he leaned in—the closest to angry I’d ever seen him. “Of course, I know perfectly well that you were together before. I was
there
. I am as much a part of this whole mess as you are.”
there
. I am as much a part of this whole mess as you are.”
I didn’t want to look at him. I knew what he was talking about but hadn’t yet admitted it to myself. I didn’t want to think about the truth—it was too raw; it made me too angry. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“One of us has to say it—and you have to accept it. You were Myst’s daughter and both you and I know that she’s out to destroy you for betraying her! Grieve is her bait—she doesn’t want him, she wants
you
. If you go charging in, she’s just going to capture you. That’s why she’s keeping him. You can’t really think she loves him. She loves no one.” He leaned back, arms crossed.
you
. If you go charging in, she’s just going to capture you. That’s why she’s keeping him. You can’t really think she loves him. She loves no one.” He leaned back, arms crossed.
I stared at him as his words ricocheted through the room. “No, no—I was part of the Indigo Court but I was never her daughter! You lie!” But my protest was weak. He was telling the truth. I’d known since my first flashback a week or so ago, but I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself. “I can’t face being Myst’s daughter. She isn’t my mother. Krystal is . . . was . . .”
He was on the floor by my side in the blink of an eye, gathering me into his arms. I leaned against his body, closing my eyes as he murmured an apology.
“Oh, Cicely, of course you aren’t—not this time around. But before, when you were with Grieve, you were Myst’s daughter, destined to take the throne in the future when she died. You defied her . . . you ran . . . you dared to love one of the enemy. You have to accept that part of yourself if you hope to beat her this time.”
“You were there. Which side were you on?”
“I was Shy’s brother. Don’t you remember?” His words hit like a sledgehammer, and I started to cry.
“No, no . . .” But the room started to fall away, and I went spiraling into the past.
Grieve and I were standing there, only he was Shy and I was Cherish, and now I could see myself for who I was—Myst’s daughter. We were poised, waiting as the first front of those hunting for us came up the slope. Shy turned to me and blinked, his long lashes dusted with a lazy skiff of pollen from the deep grass in which we’d been lying. We were in Summer’s land, and the Queen was hunting for us. Or rather, her servants were.
“Stop!” A man who looked very much like Shy stepped to the forefront. He carried a long, razor-edged silverplated dagger and was wearing the armor of the knights of Summer. “In the name of Lainule, I command you to stop. Shy, return to us now, for punishment. The girl may go if she departs our lands and never returns.”
Shy glanced at me, and I could tell he was nervous. “You have a chance to survive. If they take me home, I’ll be punished for treason. But you—my Cherish, my love, you can escape.”
I stared at him, my heart racing. “Surely you jest. Leave you to them? Leave you to death? Never. We fight together and if necessary, we die together.”
“But love, they’ll crucify you if you fight and falter.” His eyes were wet, and he looked so forlorn that I wished once again we’d never met. It had been instant attraction, a deep and abiding need to be together that burned its way through my heart. Through his, too.
“Then let them do their worst. I will not leave you.” I paused, resisting the urge to just go barreling into the fray with teeth sharp and jaws unhinged. I could mow down a good five or six of them before they had a chance to blink. But I was trying to resist instinct, trying to use reason.
There was one other factor to think about. “He’s your brother,” I said slowly. “Can you resist him? Do you want to? If you truly wish me to go, I will.”
Shy bit his lip, glancing from his brother back to me, then back to his brother again. He pressed his lips shut, pulling me to him. “I cannot give you up. Not now. Not ever. We belong together, and if they can’t see that . . .”
We turned, facing his brother, who was leading the band of warriors, and steeled ourselves for the attack. Shy’s brother caught my gaze. I readied myself. And when they charged, he fell first under my attack . . . and the bloodlust raged, and soon, the field was soaked in their life force as Shy and I stood triumphant, with tears falling, unwilling victors against a force that would destroy our love.
“No . . . Chatter—I would
never
hurt you—”
never
hurt you—”
“Sshh . . . but you did, Cicely. Or rather, Cherish did. And Shy was not innocent in the act.” He gently stroked my forehead, then my face, searching my eyes with a terrified look. “Please don’t hate me for forcing you to remember. But you have to know the truth—you have to have all of the information you can in order to make clear decisions.”
I blankly shook my head. “I don’t hate you. How could I hate you, Chatter? But . . . she knows, she really does know that I was her daughter. That’s why Myst is out to destroy me as much as she’s out to destroy Geoffrey, isn’t she?”
“She’ll hurt you in any way she can. And she knows Grieve was your lover back then—how best to hurt you except to steal him away and turn him into the monster
you
were supposed to become?” He tightened his embrace. “Grieve did his best to deflect her from you, and I think even now he tries. But the more you and he connect, the more arsenal she has.”
you
were supposed to become?” He tightened his embrace. “Grieve did his best to deflect her from you, and I think even now he tries. But the more you and he connect, the more arsenal she has.”
I gazed up into his face. He was so like Grieve and yet so unlike him. “What are you, Chatter? I know you’re Cambyra like Grieve . . . like . . . me . . . so what are you? What kind of shifter?”
He let out a long sigh. “I do not shift into animal form like you and Grieve. My powers are different. I can’t show you here.”
“How come?” I was beginning to relax into a drowsy state in his arms. It was almost as if Grieve were holding me, without the intense pressure between us.
Chatter leaned close and whispered in my ear. “Because I turn into a pillar of fire. I’m deadly, Cicely—when I change, I have no control over my actions. Fire lives to burn, and when I transform, all I want is to consume.”
That broke the spell. I jerked my head up to stare at him. “Fire? Is that why you are so pulled to Rhiannon?”
He blinked. “You can tell?”
“I can tell a mile away that you’ve got it bad for her.”
“No,” he said softly. “You misunderstand. I’m pulled to her flame—it sings within my own heart. But Miss Rhiannon, she is a gentle soul and I would never intrude on her relationship.”
You’re lying to yourself
, I thought, but said nothing. Instead, I let his information settle. Chatter, who seemed so quiet and unassuming, turned into a raging inferno.
, I thought, but said nothing. Instead, I let his information settle. Chatter, who seemed so quiet and unassuming, turned into a raging inferno.
“When was the last time you transformed?”
“Years ago. I started a wildfire and burned one of my friends. Grieve, actually. It was long before you were born, and I meant no harm, but it hurt him for a long time. I swore then I’d never take a chance on hurting someone else I cared about. But it’s not the same as Rhiannon repressing her powers. When the magic-born do not practice their magic, it backs up in them, and eventually it will implode. With the Cambyra, it’s not as much pressure.” He sucked in a long breath, then let it out. “Don’t tell her—please. And don’t tell Leo.”
“Leo wouldn’t like the connection.” I frowned.
“No, he wouldn’t.”
I let out a long sigh. “We’d better get this done. Thank you—for everything. I’ll think about what you said, but . . .” As I stood, it was all I could do to shrug. Nothing could make me give up Grieve.
Chatter nodded, his eyes dark and glowing. “You will do as you see fit. But Cicely, Myst will use anything against you she can. You were her blood. And you betrayed her.”
“And she remembers . . . even if I don’t.” I shrugged off the weight of his words and turned to Kaylin. “We need to start the ritual. Are you ready to start?”
He nodded. I explained what we needed to do and we began to forge the magical circle of salt, then belladonna and lastly, the quartz. I crawled on the bed and straddled Kaylin’s naked body, feeling inappropriate, and yet something within me stirred as I sank down, sitting on his stomach.
Slowly I began to chant.
Demon waken, demon dreams,
demon days, demon wings,
night-veil, creature of shade,
wake to your host, fulfill the pact you made.
Chatter stood beside me, his voice weaving with mine, providing a countertonal response. Surprised, I glanced at him—he had an excellent voice and could have easily been a professional singer.
Waken to life, waken to death,
Waken to void, waken to breath,
Waken to the world, waken to the grave,
Waken to your host, wake and be saved.
Kaylin began to stir. Or rather, he began to convulse. I motioned to Chatter, who hurried over to my side. Kaylin was shaking and it was all I could do to keep him down. He frothed at the mouth, his eyes rolling back in his head, and I leaned forward, pressing his shoulders down, holding him still. He’d be bruised and sore, but it would be worse if I just let him flail.
Chatter pulled out a little bottle that the shaman had given me before we left the Court of Dreams and dropped three drops of the potion into Kaylin’s mouth. Kaylin let out a long scream—really more of a howl—and I felt his arousal as he began to wake. Crap. This could end badly.
Kaylin thrashed and I suddenly found myself flying through the air, onto the floor, as he stood. He rose up, standing over me, erect and hair flowing, his eyes flashing with an odd light. Chatter backed up, reaching down to grab my hand, pulling me out of the way.
As if he’d never seen himself before, Kaylin held out his arms, examining them, then glanced down at his erection and let out a low, throaty laugh as he turned toward me.
“Thank you for waking me, Cicely. Let me show you just how grateful I am.” The look on his face was insolent and yet—and yet—there was Kaylin, behind the new attitude.
“Kaylin—do you remember what happened?” The thought ran through my mind that maybe this hadn’t been the best idea, but Lainule had insisted we needed him and how could I leave him in a vegetative state? I might as well have killed him as done that.
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