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"Let me come with you." I walked over to his side. "I have to see him. Please."
"If you're sure . . ." He cocked his head. "I don't know if it's a good idea."
"Chatter, we're here to take Peyton, Grieve, and you home with us. I'm going to see him, one way or another." I held his eyes and felt myself falling into his gaze. He blinked slowly and I found myself moving toward him, but then shook my head. "Don't try that on me. I'm part Cambyra Fae. I know what you're doing."
"Cicely, how can we go with you--"
"Shut up." I held up my hand. "You don't have a choice in this. Chatter, we're stronger than you think, and we'll do everything necessary to save our friends, ourselves, and this town. I love Grieve. He loves me. Take me to him."
"You may not like what you see." A sullen look washed across his face, but he wiped it away. "All right, follow me. But only you. Grieve would not tolerate more than your company right now."
"Are you sure you want to go alone?" Kaylin asked.
I shrugged. "I don't have a choice. Just keep alert out here."
I followed Chatter to the back, where another opening led to a narrow passage. It led so far back into the mountain that I couldn't see the end of it, but several chambers opened off of either side. Chatter led me to the first one and we slipped through the opening, ducking our heads in order to do so.
The chamber was fitted to be a bedroom. Soft lights lit up the inside, delicate and sparkling, and in the corner was a bed. The bed was carved from rock, piled high with moss and blankets. A dresser to the left looked like it had been plucked out of the Victorian era, and to the right, a divan and table, both from the Art Deco years. But my focus was on the bed, for resting in the center of the blankets, as still as death, was Grieve.
As soon as I entered, he began tossing and turning. My wolf gave a whimper--now that we were within touching distance it would be hard to keep the connection from re-forming. I rushed over to his side but stopped when he sat up, a ferocious look on his face.
"Stay back, I'm having trouble controlling myself. Even around Chatter." His eyes shimmered, the stars in them sparkling, calling me forward even as he warned me back.
"Grieve, what's going on? What's happening?"
I didn't dare tell him that I had caused this--in his condition, who knew what he'd do? Guilt warred with triumph--the thought that we might be able to get a leg up on the Indigo Court through this plague danced in my heart like Tinkerbell dancing on Hook's grave.>"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.
