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Rhiannon let out a short scream, but she looked unharmed as the lights flickered against the crumbling walls. And then we were plunged into darkness, and the destruction went on and on and on.
Chatter, Grieve, and I had been standing near the door. When the lights vanished, I felt a hand on my wrist and suddenly found myself being dragged out into what was left of the hallway. The lights were off, and it was impossible to see. I began to cough. Dust was swirling everywhere, and my throat felt like it had been burned dry. I was tempted to call on the winds, but if the underpinnings to the building were damaged, that might bring everything toppling down on us.
Grieve held on to my wrist, his hand never wavering, and Chatter held on to my other elbow as we stumbled through what had been the lobby. A flickering light began to shine. One of Lannan’s guards was holding a flashlight and he motioned for us to follow him. He shone it down at the floor, so we could do our best to skirt the toppled plaster and beams. The building hadn’t collapsed in toto but it had been severely damaged.
I tripped over a large chunk of something—whether it was stone or wood I couldn’t tell—but Grieve and Chatter righted me. We reached the door, where one of the guards was waiting. He hurried us out to the limousine. I could hear fighting a few yards away, but when I turned to help, the vampire yanked my arm and shoved me into the backseat, along with Grieve and Chatter. He slammed the door, locking it, and ran back to the building.
“What’s going on? We have to go back for the others!” It was a relief to be in the comfort of the car, but all I could think about were the rest of our friends, trapped inside. I struggled toward the door, but Grieve and Chatter held me firmly, while the driver peeked into the backseat.
“Stay here.” His voice was gruff, and the vampire looked big enough to enforce his command. “The guards are searching for the rest of your party.”
“They planned it. They planned for the station to blow right before Lannan began his speech, but he started early.” Grieve shook his head. “If he hadn’t started fifteen minutes early, the word would never have gotten out. But it’s going to be a bloody night. People are going to try to get out of town now, even though Lannan told them to wait until morning. Especially since they had to have heard the explosion over the air. The Shadow Hunters are going to have a field day.”
I cringed. He was right and there was nothing we could do. Hanging my head, I couldn’t stop thinking of the slaughter that was imminent.
A few moments later the door opened again and Rhiannon and Peyton climbed in, covered in dust. Neither looked seriously hurt, though Rhia was sporting a nasty bruise on her forehead. Chatter immediately opened his arms and she crept into his embrace. Another tense period passed—I don’t know how long it was, it seemed to take hours but it could have been minutes—and Wrath, Kaylin, and Lannan stumbled into the car.
I glanced out the window. The building was burning, flames lighting up the sky, and I realized I’d been hearing sirens without noticing it. Firemen moved in, their hoses aiming toward the fire, as we pulled away from the curb.
“The mansion.” Lannan’s voice was muted and even he looked wiped out. He glanced over at me and for once, his gaze wasn’t focused on my boobs or my body, but instead, was haunted. “I knew we had to go early. I wish I’d thought to make it even earlier, but at least the word got out.”
“We were kind of embroiled in a little war earlier.” Peyton gave him a quick shrug. “At least you warned them.”
Lannan nodded at her. “Yes, but was it enough?”
“What about Ysandra? The Consortium members? Wrath, what about your warriors? Did they escape?” I pressed my lips together. Nothing was going right.
He nodded. “I think so, but I can’t be sure. If they did, they’ll go back to the mansion. But it’s clear that the war has begun. And it’s not just against the vampires. Myst is out to conquer. And she’ll do whatever she has to in order to win.”
As we drove through the streets, even now we could see families piling into cars, carrying a hodgepodge of suitcases and backpacks. At one point, we heard screams but by the time we found where they were coming from, there was only a grisly blood smear left on the ground and a few mangled limbs. I didn’t want to know how many the Shadow Hunters had taken. I didn’t want to know how many would die tonight at Myst’s hands.
We pulled through the gates and a shout startled us. As we emerged from the car, we could see the guards fighting off a handful of Shadow Hunters.
Furious, raw from all we had witnessed, I shook off Grieve’s hand and ran forward, reaching deep inside to where I could feel the fury of the winds, waiting. I focused, mustering up all the energy that I could summon, and without a word, I was walking in the middle of a funnel cloud. Narrow and precarious, it was still a danger, and so I drove it forward, aching to sweep away the death and destruction that had laid siege to the town.
As I reached the fight, the vampires got out of the way quickly, leaving me a straight shot in mowing down the Shadow Hunters. I pulled on every ounce of energy I could, and sent the twister out of myself, giving it freedom, aiming it right down the center of their little group. As it raced toward them, they tried to run but they weren’t fast enough and the vortex swept them up, spinning them round with the dust and debris that I’d managed to pick up on the way, and then, as my anger grew, the cloud grew more vicious, and the Shadow Hunters came flying out, hitting the ground with a dull thud as necks and backs snapped.>And then his voice swirled around me like a flurry of leaves. “Cicely. Look deep inside. Find the part of yourself that connects to the owl. Find the Uwilahsidhe within you.”
I sank deeper, following the path inward. The slipstream seemed very far away now as I lowered myself into my core, as I let his voice lead me into myself. Past the jaded exterior, past the fear, past the weariness, past the loss, deep into my center where I felt a warm glow. And there…there waited my owl. There waited my father’s blood.
“Draw on that strength. Draw on that reserve. You have so much power there for the using. Feel your spirit rise, lifted on owl wings. Do not shift in body, but draw on your owl to carry you aloft, to free you from the weariness, to buoy you up. Can you do this?”
I inhaled deeply and connected with my owl. And then a rush of energy raced through me—of renewal, the rush of wind in my hair, of wind beneath my wings, the exaltation of being aloft, and yet I did not transform.
“Can you feel it?” His voice slid over the words, sultry and seductive.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Claim it. Coax it out. Let it be your source right now.”
And so I claimed the Cambyra side of me, and my doubts slid away, my worry that I might not be worthy of the blood. And as it did, I began to rise, back into the slipstream.
“Come back now. Return to here, to now, reenergized, refreshed, aware of your inner power, and your connection to that power.”
As his words drifted away, I slowly rose through the slipstream and out, and opened my eyes. The weariness was still there but much diminished, and my body didn’t ache nearly as much as it had. Best, my mind felt clear, replenished, and I realized that I could think again.
“Thank you.” I took Grieve’s hand and pressed it to my lips. “I love you so much.”
“You are my everything.” He reached out and stroked my face. “I mean it, Cicely. You are why I have resisted Myst, why I have had the courage to still live, even as the monster I’ve become.”
