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“Cicely, my beautiful Cicely.” His voice cracked then, and he slowly sat up, shaking his head. “I’ve come back to you, as far as I ever can return. Myst…she holds no power over me anymore.”
“Grieve, my Grieve.” I gathered him in my arms, kissing his cheeks, his forehead, his lips. “My beloved. You are free.”
“I will always be Indigo Court, but now I am free of the compulsion to hunt. I will always have the dangerous edge in my nature to cope with, but I can control it.” He struggled to his feet. “I feel both stronger, and weaker.”
“The violent nature of their blood gave you extra strength, young Prince. But you will regain the strength without the fury behind it as you get used to this new state of being.” Lainule motioned to Wrath and he moved to her side. She turned to Rhiannon and me. “And now we will tell you what you wish to know. But understand: You may not be prepared for what you hear.”
I nodded. Whatever it was, as long as Grieve was by my side, I’d weather the news. Rhiannon moved to my side and we held hands, waiting.
“We’re ready,” she said. “I want to know who my father is. And do I bear Wrath’s blood in my veins, like Cicely? Am I part Fae?”>Luna placed her hands on Grieve’s feet and began to sing in a language I didn’t understand, that I’d never before heard. I didn’t even know if it was a language—the sounds were floating against the rhythm of the drum, long, sinuous, and haunting as they echoed through the room.
Luna looked taller in the candlelight, and it was obvious she was in a trance, her eyes were glazed as she held tight to Grieve’s feet. The music snaked and crawled, coiled around us, an ancient melody, dripping with power as it flowed effortlessly from her lips.
Kaylin cried out, stiffening. He leaned back as far as he could, his back arching, but still he held Grieve’s head in his hands. My beloved Grieve looked in pain, and yet—and yet—my wolf did not whimper, nor was he afraid. Instead, as I let myself connect with him, I felt a wonder, and a sudden field of stars flashed in front of my eyes. I could see them—the stars—they were filling my vision, filling my sight, and their beauty was far-reaching and cold, aloof.
The drum continued its slow, steady cadence, forcing our attention. Luna’s voice interwove with it, rising and dipping, swirling like an ancient instrument, so smoothly that never once did I hear her catch her breath. I focused on her singing, followed the note, trying to find my sweet wolf again, but the way was blocked, and I realized, in a sudden whisper from Ulean, that I was not allowed to take part in what Kaylin and Luna were doing.
If you are with him, it will disrupt the ritual. He must walk through this darkness alone. Kaylin and Luna are the only ones here who can guide him.
As much as I didn’t want to hear this, I accepted it and went back to holding the Element of Air—keeping it steady as the four of us kept the circle intact.
A sudden crack of thunder filled the room, startling us, but not once did we waver. As we looked up, a field of stars spread across the ceiling overhead. But some were caught in a maelstrom of mist—a swirling cerulean storm. I realized we were seeing the links that connected Myst and Grieve, her energy field imposed over his through her turning him.
As Kaylin sucked in a deep breath, the mist began to disperse, unweaving and retreating. Grieve began to thrash, but Kaylin and Luna held tightly to him, and the restraints kept him on the table.
Some of the fog surrounding the stars seemed impenetrable; it would not budge, though I could see the rocking energy trying to dislodge it. But most of the outer edges whispered away, vanishing. As Kaylin strained, trying to unweave the thickest part of Myst’s energy, Grieve let out a scream and Luna’s voice stumbled as he ripped the cords binding him to the table and broke free from the table.
Kaylin leaped toward him as Grieve, holding his head and moaning, staggered toward the edge of the circle near my father. Wrath dropped his hands and lunged forward, catching Grieve as he sank to the floor, thrashing in a horrible convulsion. I let go of the air, racing across the room, not giving a damn about the broken circle.
As I fell to my knees near my love, my wolf began to howl in pain, and I began to shake and quiver, unable to control myself. Grieve and I had somehow become bound, in such a way that his pain became my pain—we’d experienced it before, but I’d thought that we might have broken those cords.
Anadey—Peyton’s mother—had turned on us, casting a spell to break the cords between Grieve and me, knowing very well that it might kill us. The spell had worked to some degree—the venom of the Vampiric Fae no longer held me in thrall when I was bitten by them, but we had not known just how far she’d managed to disrupt things.
Wrath reached out to Grieve, did something—I couldn’t see what—and Grieve slumped to the floor. The convulsions wracking my body stopped immediately, and I slumped, aching and frightened but free from the seizure.
I scrambled to my hands and knees, crawling over to Grieve. “My love, my love…is he…he isn’t…” I couldn’t think of him being dead.
But Wrath eased my fear. “He sleeps. I put him into a deep slumber for now, until we figure out what’s going on.”
“I know what happened.” Kaylin paled, looking nervously at the prone form of my lover. “I went too far in trying to unravel Myst’s energy from his. I didn’t realize I was at the core—the part that cannot be undone. And I tried to push beyond that boundary line—”
“I saw you do that. I could see what you were doing.” I took hold of one of Grieve’s hands, rocking gently as I brought it to my chest. “I thought the rest of you could, too.”
“No.” Chatter shook his head. “I could see something—but it was a blur and I had no idea what it was.” Rhia and Wrath nodded in agreement.
“You could, because of your link to him. If I had pushed too far”—Kaylin grimaced—“you could have died with him.”
“When Grieve dies, I die. We thought that before, when Myst punished him and I took the punishment on my own body. Now I think we know it’s true.” Oddly enough, I wasn’t afraid—not terribly.
I wasn’t the type of person to live my life for another, although it seemed like I’d done that for my mother, but Grieve—he and I were two parts of a whole. We’d created a bond that would outlast death, and I knew that if something happened in this lifetime, we would return together again and again until we finally managed to get it right. But, having said that, I wasn’t ready to die yet. I wasn’t ready to let Myst win. I wanted to grow old with Grieve.
Wrath leaned down and lifted Grieve in his arms. “I think he should go into the realm of Summer. He’ll be protected there and maybe the healers can do more for him now. At least some of Myst’s curse is lifted—some of the threads undone.”
“Will Lainule allow that?” I had thought that she’d proscribed him from entering her realm, but then again, she had bid him come with us on the journey to find her heartstone. I had a feeling the Queen of Rivers and Rushes knew more about what was unfolding than she was letting on.
“Oh, she will. It is daylight—the vampires sleep and so does the Indigo Court. I will take him, along with my guards. Do nothing until I return. Today we hunt down Myst in her lair. Today we go to war and I will bring reinforcements.” He caught my gaze.
I nodded, swallowing a lump in my throat. “We will prepare. I am taking my obsidian blade into battle.”
