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Leo grabbed his walking staff and cracked the creature over the skull while Rhiannon thrust out her hands and whispered something.
A short burst of flame seared the monstrosity's skin and he screamed, disrupting his shift. Within seconds, he was back to normal--or at least, I supposed it was normal; maybe it wasn't--and groaning as he rolled on the ground, trying to douse the flames.
Kaylin, shaken out of his trance, leapt up and, using two of his shurikens, threw them to land directly in the throat of the Indigo Court Fae. With one last shudder, the Shadow Hunter lay still.
I crept up beside him, staring down at the unblinking man. He was handsome, strangely compelling even in death, with rigid cheekbones and glassy eyes, in which the stars had gone out.
"Christ, that took work," Kaylin said, retrieving his daggers. He wiped them in the snow, then dried them on the bottom of his shirt. "And he was hurting. Did you see his expression?"
"He looked crazed--and yes, in pain." I stared at him. I'd never killed anybody before. Or helped kill anybody before. It was an odd sensation. I searched for guilt, but felt none. He'd been out to kill us and he wouldn't have hesitated to tear us apart. "I wonder if his shape-shifting . . . is that how they feed?" I was thinking about Grieve. Did he shift into that form now, too?
"Yes." Rhiannon slipped up beside me to stare down at the man. "But don't worry," she whispered. "Grieve wasn't born to the Indigo Court. I'm sure that he doesn't do that."
She was probably lying to spare my feelings, but I was grateful for the illusion right now. A glance at her showed she was holding steady. Anadey had already worked wonders with her and I looked forward to seeing her after a few months of steady practice. My cousin was going to be one hell of a force.
"You think he was in pain because he's out in the day, even though we're under a cloud cover? If he's infected with whatever plague Lainule and Lannan cooked up . . ." Leo knelt beside the Shadow Hunter and began searching his pockets. At my quizzical look, he shrugged. "Why not see if he might have something we can use?"
And just like that we became looters as well as killers.
He held up an odd-looking blade made of obsidian. The blade looked so sharp that I was almost afraid to touch it, but when I took it in my hand the energy seeped right through me, chilling me through. I almost jerked away but that would have been a dangerous mistake and I caught myself. The energy was sinking deep, curling around my nerves, sucking me into a numbness that felt oddly familiar.
"Help . . . me . . ." The words became molasses in my mouth and I rolled my head back, sinking to my knees.
Kaylin reached over and lifted the blade off my palm. "Your eyes . . . they were shifting, changing to--I'm not sure what. But I saw something there."
The fog began to lift. I shook my head. "Don't let me hold that again, it scares me." And it did. It made me think of sinking in quicksand, of being sucked down into the tar pits, of being consumed alive. "But we need to know what it is. Is there a way to transport it safely?"
He nodded, hoisting off his backpack. Retrieving a small box from the pack, he slipped the blade inside, then wrapped a rubber band around the box and replaced it in the pack.
"It should be fine for now. But yeah, I think we'd better find out just what the fuck's up." Reaching out, he rubbed his hand up my arm and I shivered. Kaylin did things for me, definitely, and if I hadn't been with Grieve, I'd be so right there. "You okay?"
"Yeah, but we'd better keep our eyes open. If one of the Shadow Hunters is still out and about, you can bet more are. And they aren't very happy right now, which tells us that Lainule's plan seems to have worked, at least to some extent."
We resumed our trek down the side of the ravine. I was more cautious in my footing and, muffled by the thick cover of falling snow, we silently descended to the bottom. The stream had totally frozen over, though I didn't trust the layer of ice to hold us, so we cautiously navigated the stepping stones again.
On the other side, we started back up the hill.
"Look," Rhiannon whispered. I followed her gaze.
Stretching between two of the firs was a giant spider-web, the strands shimmering with frozen droplets to create a sculpture in ice and silk, a monument to Arachne, a tribute to perseverance. It was huge, at least twelve feet from top to bottom, and the guylines were anchored a good fifteen feet between trees. A shiver ran up my back as I watched, waiting.
Slowly, out from behind the tree, scuttled the sculptor, the creator. The spider's body was easily the size of a salad plate, the jointed legs spreading out to easily two feet in diameter. The golden orb weaver was milky white, with shimmering gold markings on its body, and it scurried into the center of the web. Another joined it, and a third, and they waited, watching us.
"Motherfucking son of a bitch . . ." The sight took my breath away. I wasn't fond of spiders, but these gave me the creeps in a way most others never had. A wave of malevolence rolled off of them, toward us.
They are deadly in their bite--they are not your typical orb weaver. Be cautious, for these are Myst's pets. Snow weavers. Ulean blew in next to me on a chill gust, filled with snowflakes and ice.
I nodded, slowly, unable to tear my gaze away from the sight. They were beautiful and horrible, sparkling with energy that beckoned me to come forward.
Cicely, they are mesmerizing you. Please, say something and break their hold. Speak, child. Speak.
A sudden gasp and I realized it was me--I'd been holding my breath and my body had taken matters into its own hands. I shook out of the trance and hurriedly turned to the others.
"Don't look at them too long--they have some sort of control and they will lure you in and kill you. Or bind you for Myst. They're magical, and they belong to her." I reached out and shook Rhiannon, then Kaylin and Leo, making sure they weren't caught, like I'd just about been.
"Then she knows we're here? Are they her eyes and ears?"
"The owls and spiders hate each other," I whispered, looking back at the spiders to make sure they were still in their webs. And in truth, when I looked at them, I wanted to strike down the web. They gave me the feeling of overripe fruit, or cloying sweets covered with translucent flies.
