Night Veil (18 page)

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Authors: Yasmine Galenorn

BOOK: Night Veil
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“Yeah, I know.” She played with the napkin she’d put on the tray, twisting the corners. “Drink the rest of that tea—Leo said it will help.”
I nodded, chugging down the orange juice first, then sipping the scalding hot tea. It smelled faintly of licorice, and of earth and rock and root. But the taste was slightly bitter, with a hint of summer infusing the chamomile. The herbs settled in my stomach and my wolf stopped growling as both balm and tea set in to soothe the aching muscles.
“What I’m wondering is how this is going to affect Kaylin. The night-veil demon that we woke—it’s powerful, Rhia. Powerful, and very chaotic, and it didn’t want to knuckle under.” I shrugged. “This is going to change the Kaylin we knew, and whether that change will be for the better or worse—I don’t know.”
My eyes were closing and I could barely keep them open. Rhia pulled down my covers. “Get into bed, and don’t worry about it for the night. Don’t worry about anything. You need sleep.”
As she gently covered me up, tucking me in like I was a little girl, I could hear the great horned owl hooting in the oak, whispering for me to come and play. I drifted off before I could answer his siren song.
 
“Cicely . . . Cicely Waters.”
I blinked, expecting to see the morning light, but as I sat up, I found myself in the middle of a swirling vortex. A creature sat at the distant center, reeling me in, and I had a sudden squirming in my stomach that told me I wanted nothing doing with him or what he represented.
“Bring her here,” he said, crouching like a spider. “Bring her forward and let me read her future.”
“As you wish.” The smooth voice by my side was too smooth—too polished—and I whirled around to find myself facing Lannan. He gave me a slow smile and wink. “My lovely young juice box. Guess where we’re going?”
And then I knew—he was taking me to see Crawl, the Blood Oracle.
“No—I won’t go. You can’t make me go back to see that freakshow!” I struggled, trying to get away from Lannan, but he held me tight and drew me in, his black-as-night eyes flashing with fire.
“Give yourself to me. Kneel before me. Acknowledge my superiority. You resist me and it drives me crazy. You refuse to bend to my power and it makes me want to reach out, to break you. You are not my better—you are not above me!” He threw me to the ground, and I began to whimper as he began to unbuckle his belt. “I’ll give you something to whimper about, my pretty one.”
But then, creeping through the slipstream, came Crawl’s raspy voice, like the wind sweeping through hollow husks on a cold autumn night.
Bring her to me. She is a fulcrum to this war. Bring her to me and do not tarry. We have no time. Blood is streaming like the sands of time and our people are in danger. The girl is our key to victory.
Lannan glared at Crawl, then down at me, and then he buckled his belt again and grabbed me by the wrist. “Just wait,” he whispered as we headed toward the center of the whirlwind. “I’ve got so many special things planned for you. You’re not going to be sitting down for a month, girlie. And I
will
have my satisfaction.”
I began struggling to get away, but the whirling spiral pulled us in ever farther. As we approached the Blood Oracle, I began to scream and scream . . . and my voice echoed in the night.
 
“Cicely! Are you okay?” Once again, I was being shaken awake, but this time it was Kaylin, his eyes dark and flashing with an inner light.
I struggled to sit up, both terrified by the dream and leery of him. “Kaylin, what are you doing here?”
He sat down on the bedside and put a light hand on my shoulder, pushing me back against my pillow. “You were having a nightmare. I came to wake you.”
When I realized he wasn’t going to clobber me again, I stopped resisting and scooted back against the headboard. “Was I screaming?”
“No, but I could feel your unrest.” Once again a flash of light echoed through his eyes, and I felt a sudden rush of apprehension. “When you summoned my demon to wake, you created a connection. I can feel your dreams now.”
Hell. I hadn’t seen that coming. Nor did I want it—I already felt bound to too many people. Grieve, through my wolf; Lannan, through blood. Now Kaylin, through dreams. What would this mean?
“How far away can you feel me when I sleep? I have some pretty . . . interesting dreams at times.” I blushed, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I don’t think distance is a factor. I don’t know if it will last, and don’t fear—I won’t intrude,” he said, leaning in, his voice husky. “Not unless you want me to.”
And
that
was not an innocent remark. Of that I was sure, but I decided to ignore it for now. “Um, okay. Listen, how are you? What time is it? How long was I asleep?”
Kaylin glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s five in the morning. I’ve been awake since three. I have no idea when you went to sleep.”
“Around nine.” I stared at his face, searching for signs that the night-veil was in control, but all I could see was Kaylin. After a moment, I blurted out, “I dreamed about Lannan, and Crawl. He was taking me to see the Blood Oracle. Dragging me, rather. And Crawl was saying that I’m a fulcrum in the war and their victory depends on me.”
Kaylin considered my words, then gave me a slow nod. “I think your dream was predictive. It sounds like something that may come to pass.”
I cringed, thinking of Lannan’s part in it. I didn’t want it to be predictive; I wanted it to be a nightmare. I decided to keep my mouth shut about the rest of it—no use getting everybody stirred up over something that might not happen.
But a voice inside whispered,
You know what Lannan wants, and you know he’ll stop at nothing to get it.
And that was worse than thinking Crawl wanted to see me.
“Was it hard?” Kaylin asked, and I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he was asking. All I could think of was Lannan and his sick fascination with me.
“Hard? What?”
“Forcing my demon to submit to me?”
I did blush then, and because I knew he’d find out one way or another, I pulled away the cover and showed him the bruise on my stomach. By now it was the size of a cantaloupe.
“Did I do that?” His voice was quiet, and he looked taken aback.
“Yeah, you did. But really, it was your demon. You never would have punched me like that if you’d been in control.”
He pressed his lips together and turned to go. Over his shoulder, he said, “I’m sorry, Cicely. I’ll find a way to make it up to you. I would never deliberately hurt you. I hope you know that.”
But even as he left, I silently padded to the door of my room and locked it. No use taking any more chances.
 
I went back to sleep and slept dreamlessly until ten in the morning, when a splash of unexpected sunlight filtered through the window to land on my face. Blinking, I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and slipped out from beneath the covers. My breath came in cold puffs and, as I padded to the window to look over the frozen world below, it occurred to me that I’d need to turn up the heat. The house had central heating, and usually the second floor was a lot colder than the first.
I shoved my arms into my bathrobe and gazed down on the wonderland that spread out across the backyard and forest. The snow was beautiful, picture-perfect, and the sun glinted across the white diamonds covering the world and through the icicles hanging off the roof of the house. One icicle had grown all the way to the ground and must have been a good thirty feet long. The sunlight reflected through it, fracturing into prisms that skittered off the frozen cascade of water.
Delighted, I let myself sink into the beauty of the season, trying to put Myst out of my mind for a little while. If she weren’t around, we could enjoy the winter so much more.
If she weren’t around, the winter would be warmer and raining, not a thick layer of snow.
Ulean swept up behind me, gently hugging me with her currents.
You were Myst’s daughter, you fool! She’s out to destroy you for betraying her!
Chatter’s words came tumbling back as I gazed over the woodland. I had pushed them out of my mind, focused on the job to be done but now . . . now in the clear light of morning, after sleeping and regaining some semblance of clearheadedness, I couldn’t ignore them.
Chatter said that Myst was my mother . . . in the other life.
Ulean let forth a sigh, which rolled over me like a cool wind on a spring morning.
Chatter should not have opened his mouth, but he did. Yes, it is true. You are—were—Myst’s daughter. You were on the verge of figuring that out on your own, though, so don’t blame him for telling you.
I’m not sure what to do with that.
I shook my head, not sure how to process the information . . . not sure what it meant for the future.
I’m not Indigo Court now, am I?
No, you are Cambyra Fae and magic-born. But you bear the trace markers in your soul of that time—which is how Myst recognized you. Do not worry, you don’t have their nature. Even then, you didn’t have their nature—not unless your loved ones were threatened. You were a misfit, miscast in your role as the Queen’s daughter.
Ulean enfolded me in her gentle breeze.
You are a good person, Cicely. Do not doubt that.
I closed my eyes, trying to summon the memories, but they were hidden still, and the only glimpses I had were those that had already come to me. But knowing who I had been—knowing what I’d been capable of—terrified me. What if my nature from then came back? What if Myst wanted to turn me, to use me against my friends like she was using my aunt?
Too many questions spinning in my head, I pushed away from the window as clouds began to sock in and a light flurry of snow started. It was as if Myst could read my thoughts and had come to douse any hope the sunlight had promised.
“Cicely? Are you awake?” Rhiannon’s voice echoed from outside my door as she tapped on it lightly.
I hurried over to unlock it. “Yeah, I’m awake.”
“Come down to breakfast. Leo’s out and about, and he left you a message.” She looked pale, and I wondered if the strain of all of this was getting to be too much on her. Heather, her mother, had been captured and turned by our enemy. Rhiannon was struggling to control her own powers and heritage. And from what I could tell, she wasn’t as strong as I was.

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