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Far in the distance, someone was calling me. But my mother’s face filled my vision and I moved toward her, wanting to run into her arms. I was five again, and she was smiling and I felt for the first time in my life that I lit up her world, and I ran into her embrace. She wrapped her arms around me, so strong and caring, and I melted into the love she had never, ever shown me and burst into tears.
Blink. Wait . . . no, I’m twenty-six, not five . . .
Blink. Stay with me forever; you are my little girl. You just dreamed a long, strange dream that you’re all grown up. But you don’t have to be a grown-up, Cicely. You’re my little girl and you can stay with me.
Thank you, Mama . . . I wanted to love you so much, I wanted to be your little girl but you never would let me. Am I your little girl? Mama?
You’re forever and always my baby.
A faint sound in the distance . . .
Cicely! Cicely! A different voice, calling to me, but there was nothing in my field of vision save for Krystal.
Krystal let out a long, happy sigh, and I wondered what she’d say next—all those things I’d waited all those years to hear. But then she smiled, and her teeth were needle sharp, and her eyes burned crimson—the crimson of blood.
The spell began to break, slowly, dreams crashing to the ground.
“Krystal, no—Mother! Mother!” I began to struggle, trying to free myself, but Krystal was strong—a lot stronger than I remembered. And then I realized that Krystal’s arms were long and sinuous and she wasn’t really my mother.
Cicely! Break free, child. Break free of the illusion! A sudden gust of wind blew away the fog in the area in which we were standing and I gasped, for it blew away illusion, too. Instead of my mother, I was in the clutches of a short, squat, reptilian creature with tentacles waving. I screamed, shattering the last shards of the spell.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t happy, and the grip around my arms and waist grew tighter as I pushed away from it. I could no longer understand what it was saying, and I struggled, trying to pry my way free from its grasp.
I felt something jar against my back and glanced over my shoulder. Peyton was stabbing one of the tentacles with a butcher knife. And Chatter was holding his hands out and—Whoosh!—a white-hot flame shot out to envelop the creature. The thing made a noise sounding like a scream and let go of me. Peyton grabbed hold of my arm and ran, dragging me along behind her. There was another shriek from behind, and something grabbed my ankle.
I tripped, falling forward, and looked back to see one of the scaly arms wrapping itself around my foot, and I twisted around, lunging forward as I whipped out my switchblade and drove it into the creature’s flesh. It uncurled from my ankle and then, with a final thrashing slap, it slammed against me, knocking me down, then retreated.
I lay in the gathering fog, gasping for breath. Peyton and Chatter knelt beside me and helped me stand. Thoroughly confused, I glanced around. We seemed to be right back where we were when I’d seen . . . Krystal? Everything came flooding back.
“Krystal? I know she’s dead—what the hell possessed me to go over to that thing? What the fuck was that? What happened?” Furious at myself, and bewildered, I looked from Chatter to Peyton, then back to Chatter again.
He rubbed my shoulder gently. “Don’t blame yourself—you stumbled over a dreamweaver. They feed on the dreams and secret wishes of others and can look into your mind. The demons live primarily in the Court of Dreams, but now and then you might find one slipping over into our world as well. They tend to haunt the wild places. We don’t know what they are, only that they aren’t Fae.”
Nerve-racked, I cleared my throat. “What would it have done to me?”
“Sucked your mind clean. Left you a vegetable.” The offhand way he said it chilled me to the bone.
“Let’s move on. Maybe you need to tether us together so we don’t wander off like I did.” I didn’t want to meander off the road again. In fact, I wanted to turn around and go home, but the monsters waiting for us there were just as frightening. And Kaylin needed us.
Chatter cocked his head, looking curious. “Cicely, you didn’t wander off the path. The creature hid in the fog beside you and caught you in its trap before we could stop it. You stayed on the path the entire time.”
I’d stayed on the path, hadn’t strayed, and still they came out of the mist and fog to hunt. Shuddering, I nodded, saying nothing.
Are you all right, child? I tried to reach you.
Ulean . . . You tried to lead me back to myself. But nothing seemed to penetrate that fog, my friend. Thank you for trying.
There are so many dangers here. I am glad I came with you. But be wary—creatures like the dreamweaver are hard to fight and they use sweet honey as a lure.
I thought about Krystal, and how I’d always wanted her to be a normal, loving mother. If my thoughts were that easy to read—if my secret hopes about my mother were that clear—then it was a good thing we hadn’t brought Rhiannon with us. Steeling myself, I nodded for Chatter to move on.
We headed farther into the shadowy land. I sensed beings going by, catching whispers of sounds on the slipstream, but I couldn’t understand the languages, only the emotions . . .
. . . a great sadness, loss . . . melancholy . . .
. . . hunger, seething, angry hunger . . .
. . . fear, constant wariness . . .
