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"You went to see the Blood Oracle and you didn't think it was important to tell us? Christ, Cicely, you can't just shut us out of stuff like that. We're all in this together, you know." Leo looked huffy and I was beginning to see that he really didn't like feeling left out of things. Either that or he was feeling touchy because until I'd returned, the vampires were his territory.
"I meant to tell you, and I just did. So much is happening, it's hard to keep everything sorted out. But yes, Crawl seems to think I'm 'the one' and I have a feeling that this connects to what he was talking about." I shrugged. "Like it or not, the vampires think I'm their special-needs girl. Frankly, I'd rather be anonymous to them. This is why they want me to spy on the Indigo Court--they think that by doing so I'll start this big war between the two and they expect to come out victorious."
"Meanwhile, members of the Indigo Court are kidnapping the magic-born to create their own army of vampiric magic using slaves to fight in the war. Think of the chaos if they manage to harness a group of witches as powerful as Marta and Heather--the havoc they could wreak." Leo rubbed the bridge of his nose and I knew he was thinking about his sister.
"They'd be almost invincible." I stopped as Ulean touched my shoulder.
Something is happening outside. You need to attend to it. Be cautious. They're approaching.
"Trouble, guys. Ulean just warned me." I put down the book and the food, and cautiously peeked out the front door, Rhiannon on my heels. There was something--I could feel it--on the periphery of the land.
"Wait," I whispered.
She paused, glancing over my shoulder. "Something out there?"
I nodded. Turning, I scanned the yard, not sure what to look for. Ulean, can you hear me?
Yes . . . over at the boundary. Leo and Kaylin did their work well, they cannot approach.
What's out there? I can hear it . . . feel it.
Ulean whisked past me, leaving me with the dizzying scent of lavender and lemon, calming and yet invigorating. It washed away some of the gloom from my aura and I inhaled deeply, letting out a slow breath while I waited. After a moment, she returned.
You come to a crossroads . . . be careful, Cicely. Please, don't rush into action. Listen carefully. Words carry deception even if they come from someone you love.
A shiver raced down my spine. What the hell was going on? I slowly descended the steps, Rhiannon behind me. Leo and Kaylin followed.
As we crossed the yard toward the ravine, I felt like we were standing on the edge of a precipice, over a crashing ocean full of sharp, jagged rocks. And one of those rocks was rising to meet us.
Out of the ravine, trailed by a cloud of mist that swirled in their wake, walked five figures. The mist was quicksilver, sparkling indigo, and gray, coiling like serpents in the chill night. The forest fell silent, at least to the ear, but I caught sounds on the wind: the spinning of webs, the shuffle of spiders, the rustle of twisted creatures who had no names.
I stepped over the hose, and when it hissed and became a snake, I forced myself to avoid looking down. Rhiannon gave a little gasp from behind me but I kept walking, my shoes squeaking lightly on the snow. My gaze was fastened on the figures, silhouettes in the night, but their auras were shining with brilliant swirls of cerulean and silver.
The Indigo Court.
We approached one another, across the lawn, but they stopped fifteen yards from the edge of the forest, waiting. As I gauged their distance, I realized they'd stopped right at the line where the men had warded the property. They'd done a good job: The enemy could not pass.
I kept walking and Rhiannon caught up to me, pacing by my side. Kaylin and Leo had our backs and we came to a halt a few yards away from the shrouded figures. I held up my hand and waited. Let them be the first to speak.
One member of their party stepped forward. A woman, from what I could see through the mists that surrounded them like a tangle of living, writhing webs. She stepped forward, dressed in long robes, and then I saw the tumbling red locks that cascaded down her shoulders.
Heather. Heather, it was Heather, oh great gods, my aunt, and she was a vampire.
Heather's face was pale as cream, pale as the silver moon, and her lips were rosebud red. Her eyes sparkled black, with the stars of the Indigo Court shining in them.
"Heather!" Rhiannon's cry shattered the night. "No! No!" She screamed then, the fractured pain of her voice spiraling higher and higher. "No, tell me it's not true . . . tell me you aren't one of them!"
Heather turned to her, and a faint look of pity washed over her face, and then was gone. "I'm still your mother--"
"You're not my mother! You're a demon creature--filthy vampire!"
And then, Rhiannon raised her hands and her palms crackled with flame. She thrust them forward, the fire racing off of her hands toward Heather, who leapt nimbly to the side. The flames engulfed a small juniper plant, but the snow-covered foliage sizzled and the fire went out.>You know who it's from. Ulean was behind me, I could feel the gentle breeze of her breath blowing on my ear. An entirely different sensation than when Grieve did it.
Oh, I know.
I knew who had sent the basket before I even touched the card, which sported a beautiful bouquet of red roses on the front. As I flipped it open, sloping writing--curved, elegant calligraphy--shone out in red.
From the Crimson Court to Ms. CicelyWaters & Friends.
