A Guardian of Shadows (Revenant Wyrd Book 4) (10 page)

“This is such a strange place.” Angelica moved away from the tapestry. “Cat people with machines, dark elves living in some strange high society.”

“Much more fantastical than the realms we left,” Jovian agreed.

“And you think all other races should be uncivilized or uncultured, because they aren’t human?” Uthia mused.

“Not at all, just act more like…” Angelica trailed off with a blush.

“What? Act more like you envision they should?” If the dryad had any eyebrows, Jovian was sure she would have raised one at that point.

“That’s what I was going to say,” Angelica said sheepishly.

“Just because the elves in your homeland live off the land doesn’t mean the ooslebed should. Wasn’t it the differences of First Daughter from the rest of the elves that set her on her path to find her own home? And the frement, what should they do? Scratch at posts all day because they
look
like pets?”

“No, I guess you’re right,” Angelica mumbled.

“Stereotypes,” Uthia shrugged. “I will never understand them.”

But Joya was moving again, and though there wasn’t anywhere she could go but straight, they all followed so they didn’t lose sight of her.

They only glanced now and then at tapestries as they passed. The other races depicted on them were ones they had seen on their first day inside the Shadow Realm and the Haunted Forest: pixies, the larger fairies, and dryads. Here and there were more images of machinery that baffled Jovian’s mind. He couldn’t imagine that they were run by wyrd, but at the same time, he couldn’t think of anything else that could run them.

Before long the sounds of nighttime reached their ears, and Jovian looked up to see the hallway coming to an end at the opening of a cave. They stopped, looking out on the wasted land beyond. A light rain was now falling from a thunderous sky, pattering on the charred grass. Even now smoke rose here and there from the land. The hallway continued out of the cave, but instead of the gray granite they’d gotten used to, this was a black stone road that lead straight up to the tallest tower they had ever seen.

There were lights on inside the tower, shining through the black air like a beacon, calling them on, welcoming them to the twisting, convoluted structure that reached nearly as high as the clouds above. It was a wicked-looking thing, and just looking at it made Jovian shiver.

“What is that building?” Joya asked.

“The Spire of Night, the home of the Realm Guardian.” There was a note of awe in Uthia’s voice.

“Grace, snap out of it.” The voice was familiar to her in its dreamy cadence. It reminded her of times past, good times, friends, laughter. It was a stark difference to the chaos she felt coursing through her body right now, the pain through her midsection where she had been pierced by … what had stabbed her?

“Don’t think about that now; you aren’t your body.”

The voice seemed to pull at her, tugging her away from her current inspection of her physical form, searching out the wound she had been dealt, the same wound that had chased her consciousness away and allowed another being to slip in.

“Let go, come with me,” the voice encouraged. It was so familiar, but through the pain, Grace couldn’t make out who it belonged to.

“Take my hand, come with me and you won’t feel the pain.”

“But I don’t have any hands I can work with,” Grace told the voice.

She felt something tug at her again, more insistent this time.

“Just let go,” it said.

“I’m not holding on to anything,” she told the other woman.

“Grace, you old bitch, let
go
of your body and come with me.”

“Rose?” Grace asked, and just like that she was pulled out of her body and into a place of absolute grayness. Before her stood her willowy friend, curly red hair shot through with streaks of silver.

“Even half-dead you are
still
as stubborn as an ox! The Goddess will kick you right out of the Everafter, you
know
this, right?” Rose scolded her.

“Where are we?” Grace asked.

“I really couldn’t tell you. Inside our minds maybe?”

“You’re inside my head?” Grace asked her.

“That would explain how drab and oppressive the color is,” Rosalee pondered.

Grace scowled at her.

“Hold tight, I have to get Dalah,” Rose told her and vanished like a wisp of green smoke.

“Great, a party in my head,” Grace said.

Moments later Rosalee appeared in a puff of green smoke, and directly after her Dalah in a puff of violet smoke.

“That was quick,” Grace commented.

“Dalah isn’t as stubborn as you are,” Rosalee told her.

“Yes, I’m pretty open to things like this,” Dalah remarked.

“As I recall a lot of people found you rather
open
,” Grace said.

“You’re just jealous that you didn’t get as much —”

“
Ladies
,” Rosalee held her hands up. “Can we focus please? Am I the only one troubled by the fact that our bodies have been overtaken by a force we cannot combat?”

Grace huffed and Dalah played timidly with her blonde hair.

“I didn’t think so.”

“What are we going to do?” Dalah asked.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Rosalee crossed her arms.

“Well, we need our bodies back,” Grace said.

“Can we get them back? Are we dead?” Dalah wondered. She brushed at the folds of the violet dress, smoothing it over her plump frame.

“I don’t think we’re dead, or we wouldn’t still be in our bodies,” Rosalee responded.

“That doesn’t mean that our bodies are alive — maybe once the Norns leave, our wounds will be too extreme,” Dalah said.

“Well, not your wounds, because you’re a sorceress, but ours surely might,” Rosalee said.

“I think we’re healed,” Grace said. “Before I was so rudely yanked out of my body, I was scanning it, looking for the wound that had weakened me enough for the Norn to slip in, and I couldn’t find it.”

“Well that’s something at least,” Rose said.

“Regardless, we need to get them out of our bodies. The Norns aren’t meant to be on this plane of existence. What are they even planning?” Grace asked.

“They want the wyr,” Dalah said. “I’ve been able to gather that much from their thoughts.”

“How long have both of you been conscious?” Grace asked.

“Not really sure,” Dalah said.

“I never lost consciousness,” Rosalee said.

“Huh,” Grace huffed.

“So, this wyr,” Rosalee prompted.

“Apparently it’s to take over the Well of Wyrding, render it useless or something,” Dalah rolled her hand as if she were reciting something she found silly.

“They are supposed to be the ones that take the
place
of the well and the Evyndelle,” Grace explained. “They are to become the repository of wyrd, and the dealers of fate. We aligned ourselves with them,” Grace reminded them.

“Still trying to figure out why we did that,” Rose grumbled.

“Look, we know the wyr have something to do with Amber and Sylvie — they were like them, so the Norns couldn’t know their fates because they resided in an energy that wasn’t human. They took
our
bodies, so they must think we are close to them,” Grace started brainstorming.

“And then they used our bodies to attack Angelica, Jovian, and Joya,” Rose told them.

“What?” Grace asked.

“It’s true; I saw their memories,” Dalah nodded.

“So the wyr are Angelica and Jovian?” Grace said. She had suspected it since talking with the Norns in the Well of Wyrding.

“I believe so,” Dalah said. “Or at least the Norns believe it.”

“How did they do?” Grace asked. “Did Angelica and Jovian live?”

Dalah nodded and Grace closed her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Thank the Goddess.” She made the five-pointed star of the Goddess over her body in blessing.

“This isn’t getting us any closer to retaking our bodies,” Rosalee said.

“Alright, what are they planning right now, do we know?” Grace asked.

“They’re trying to meet up with Angelica and Jovian again,” Dalah said. “They’re hunting them, but something happened that took Angelica and Jovian away from them.”

“What was that?” Grace asked.

“I don’t know,” Dalah said.

“The Norns attacked Angelica and Jovian, and Porillon showed up at the same time. We fought Porillon — you stabbed her in the head with your dhast, so it might not work any longer — and then the Shadows Grove swooped in and took Angelica, Jovian, and Joya away.”

“So the Norns lost them?” Grace asked. Her head was spinning with the overload of information.

“Yes, now they only have our memories of where they’re going,” Rosalee said.

“Well, they’re going home, then after that we are supposed to meet back at the Guardian’s Keep with my sisters,” Grace said.

“We aren’t traveling toward the Holy Realm,” Dalah said.

“Dear Goddess, I don’t think my sisters will be any match for the Norns. All it will take is one strike from the Norns, and they won’t expect anything chaotic when they see us. They’ll think the Norns are us!” Grace was near hysterical.

“We’ll figure something out. What do you suggest?” Rose asked her.

“We find Porillon, let her kill the Norns off,” Dalah said.

“That won’t work. First, we have no idea where she is, and second, she would probably kill us off in the process, or directly after.” Rosalee was right.

“And I don’t think Sara and Annbell are a match for them. I mean, Porillon is the most powerful sorceress alive, and if she wasn’t able to kill them…” Grace rubbed her chin in thought, her eyes on her feet.

“What other options are there?” Rosalee asked.

“I hate to say it, but there’s only one thing the Norns fear, and that is Angelica and Jovian,” Dalah said.

“I won’t take the Norns to them.” Grace shook her head.

“But if the Norns fear them, then the two of them can hurt them. If they are the wyr, then it is their power that can destroy the Norns.”

Grace hated the thought. She didn’t want to put Sylvie’s children in danger, but she needed her body back. The others were right — Angelica and Jovian were probably the only ones that could destroy the Norns.

“So what do we do?” Rosalee asked Grace.

“We don’t have any choice. The Norns can’t stay in the Great Realms. We have to take them to the Neferis Plantation, to Angelica and Jovian, and hope this time they can kill the Norns once and for all.”

“Have you been feeling any better?” Annbell asked her twin, easing down in the chair opposite the one Sara sat in. The sitting room was a private room the Realm Guardians shared, with entrances only they could use. It was a blend of their favorite colors: drapes in shades of green and red framed a large window that looked out onto the snow-covered passes of the Barrier Mountains. It would have been cold, if Sara hadn’t conjured a roaring fire in the fireplace directly opposite the window.