Night's End (32 page)

Enforced breeding, kidnapping, anything for survival. “Did Myst anticipate being where she's at now? Did she always look to ruling the world?”

Hunter gave me a sad smile. “Don't dictators always anticipate wielding great power? I don't think she thought it would be in this manner, but yes, I think she always wanted to rule the world. She had kidnapped a couple shamans first thing, from her people. While I'm not sure how, she forced them to develop rituals to transfer more power to her. Somewhere along the line, she ended up with power over the winter weather, and over spiders, and she became Queen Myst, of the Indigo Court.”

I wondered if she'd killed them, to absorb their power. Or maybe, turned and obeying her, they'd been willing to help her grow and evolve.

“In some ways, I have to admit I admire Myst.” I didn't want to say the words aloud, but it felt like they should be said, as an acknowledgment to my enemy's strength. Never underestimate your opponent, and always remember how strong they are.

“Why? Because she was your mother?” Hunter wasn't being a smart ass. He was asking a real question.

“No. I mean, yes, she was my mother . . . but no, that's not why I admire her. She took a situation that had gone terribly wrong and turned it to her advantage. She didn't give in; she stood up and took charge. She's a survivor, and she does whatever she needs to in order to see her people thrive. It may be some real freaky-assed crap she pulls, but she has goals, and she's following her dream.”

Lannan snorted. “Just because you
can
do something doesn't mean you should.”

I glanced over my shoulder at him. He grinned. “True enough. But what can I say? The woman is ambitious. Just because I admit that, doesn't mean I won't do my best to destroy her.”

“Good to know.” He started to say more but then stopped, pointing ahead.

I turned. There, in front of us, stood a door. Most likely it would lead us to the first guardian. Meaning the first adversary. And all guardians of all heartstones were set to fight to the death.

Taking a deep breath, I turned and motioned to Check. “Everybody at the ready. Weapons at hand, please. Expect trouble on the other side, if this follows the usual pattern of things. Check, once we're ready, open the door, and let's see what we're facing.”

As Check reached for the handle, I clutched my dagger, the hilt solidly implanted in the palm of my hand. We might find a monster on the other side, or a ghost, or a riddle or . . . who knew what?

Check opened the door, quickly to take whatever might be on the other side by surprise. And there, in the middle of the archway, blocking our path, was the first guardian at the gate. We were facing a gigantic snow weaver, and the eight-legged freak looked overly delighted to see us.

Chapter 16

The snow weaver made no move to attack, but waited, blocking the entry. We were facing Myst's first guardian, which meant we were on the right track to finding her heartstone. But considering it was a guardian, the snow weaver was bound to be more powerful and magical than its kin.

Check jumped back out of reach as the rest of us took a step back.

“Lovely. Just lovely.” I tapped my dagger against my hand, trying to figure out our best approach. “Watch your ears, guys. And eyes. The snow weavers are deadly, and they can charm the hell out of you. There won't be any reasoning with it. It's either
My way or the highway
.”

As we shifted into a semicircle around the door, the spider's crafty gaze followed us, taking in every movement. Most guardians seemed to be able to talk, so I thought about engaging it, but the fact that snow weavers were versed in luring in their victims meant a conversation wasn't all that appetizing of a thought. At least not from my side of the fence.

Ulean, what do you suggest?

This one is cunning and wily. I sense a great hunger, and she cannot let you pass; therefore, you must fight her. Be watchful for her magic. The siren song is deep within her, and I think you may have a difficult battle on your hands if you let her speak.

Great. A female? They tend to be more deadly than the males.

Always the way, Cicely. Always the way.

I turned to Check. “We fight, but if she begins to speak, we have to silence her.” Before we could move, however, a faint whisper of song sprang up, and the first few bars instantly plunged me into a deep sadness, filling me with regret. The music shifted then, ever slightly, and promised hope if only I'd reach out and embrace the singer. I struggled against the desire to move forward, all too aware that this was the snow weaver's trap. She really was a siren.

Cicely—don't listen and tell your men to fight her song!

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
I know, I'm trying to shake out of it enough to—Fuck!

One of the guards—one of our men—had lurched forward and was nearly within reach of her long, jointed legs. Check leaped forward, grabbing the man by the arm and slamming him back, throwing him to the ground. The guard groaned, but his eyes cleared, and he struggled to his feet and scrambled back.

The snow weaver let out a noise that sounded like a heavy sigh, and the song intensified, but Ulean swept through with a huge gust of wind to divert the music into the slipstream, away from us. The resulting static disrupted the spell and the spider fell silent, but the feeling of malevolence grew stronger, and I had the feeling she was pissed out of her mind that we'd put a stop to her magical song.

“We have to go in. She's probably not going to try to lure us again, and if she does, Ulean seems to be able to disrupt her. But she's deadly, so one bite can kill.” I glanced back at the guards. “I hate to say this, but Lannan, one of your men might be the best bet. You guys are already dead.”

He gave me one of
those
looks and shook his head. “No, we are not dead. Well, yes we are, but there's a lack of respect in your words, dear Cicely. However, that aside, I concur. Her poison cannot harm us.” Motioning to his burliest guard, he said, “Mort, get your ass in there and do your best to skewer her. She needs to die.”

Mort—I supposed it was short for Mortimer—stepped forward. He was tall and stocky, a barrel-chested man who fit the uniform he was wearing, which happened to be a pair of dark jeans, a Metallica T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He wore a motorcycle cap that was studded with little spikes. As he moved toward the spider, he pulled out a wicked-looking knife with a long serrated blade.

The snow weaver shifted as he moved toward her, and the glint in her eyes told me that she recognized he was ready to rumble. She scuttled into a better position so she could use her web for balance and yet rear up, ready to strike.

Mort gauged the distance between them and eyed her soft underbelly. That's where the majority of spiders were most vulnerable. As he jockeyed for position, so did she, and it was like some macabre dance—the vampire and the spider, trying to find their perfect balance.

And then, because somebody had to make the first move, and she was obviously waiting for him to, Mort leaped forward, sweeping his blade through the air to land in the belly of the snow weaver.

The spider reared up again, then fell on him, plunging her fangs deep into his shoulder. He let out a string of curses, but pulled out the knife and struck her again. She scuttled back, tearing herself off the blade with a sucking sound.

I thought I detected a hint of confusion in her look. Mort wasn't dead; he wasn't on the ground. Which meant chances were good that she didn't know he was a vampire and immune to her poisons.

Mort followed her, but she stopped at the edge of the door. She wouldn't run away. She was a guardian, bound to stay and fight, and she was doing her damnedest. She leaped forward, oozing blood and fluid from her abdomen, and landed on Mort again, once more sinking her fangs into him. She missed his heart—a good thing—and one last time, he brought his blade up, directly beneath her as she straddled him. The snow weaver shuddered, and the lights in her multifaceted eyes went out. The vampire shoved her off him, and then stabbed her again to make certain she was dead.

“Good work.” Lannan helped Mort up and examined his wounds. Though the gaping holes in his clothes were still there, his wounds were already healing over. He'd be fine. His heart was intact, and therefore his body would heal.

“Thank you.” I didn't know what else to say, but acknowledging that he'd saved us a good deal of trouble and lives lost seemed important. “Are you all right? Did she harm you?”

Mort gave me a long look. It was impossible to read what was behind those dark eyes. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I'm fine.”

Well, he was certainly more polite than his boss. There was no sarcasm in his words, and for once, I wasn't left with a sour taste in my mouth. I motioned for Check to take a gander through the door. He quietly sidled up to it and peered around the corner. After a moment, he leaned back.

“A wide cavern, Your Majesty. Like a field of boulders across a plain of ice. Dark, but illuminated lightly from a glow within the frozen wastes. I could detect no movement, but that doesn't guarantee there isn't something in there waiting for us.”

“Oh, you can bet there's something there. We'll just have to figure it out when we get there. From what I can tell, there are usually three to five guardians set by the Queens. They get progressively harder to pass the farther you go along. I'm not looking forward to running this gauntlet, but now that we're over the first hurdle, we'd better get a move on, because the others might figure out we're here.”

I wanted to add that I knew for sure they would. That, when I'd set up my own guardians, they'd formed a network. If one went down, the others would be alerted. But that would be giving away my own secrets, and I wasn't comfortable doing so. I was also aware that, by protecting myself, I was putting my friends in jeopardy by not telling them what I knew. Either way, it was a losing situation. But self-preservation won out. I kept my mouth shut.

Finally, I accepted the wisdom of what Lainule had tried to teach me—the Queen must protect her heartstone above all else. The Queen
was
the heart of the Barrow. It felt both a selfish and conceited thought, but it was true. And sometimes the truth wasn't politically correct.

“Are we ready, then?” Check gave me an odd look, but when I met his gaze, he simply smiled softly and turned to lead us through the door. Sometimes I had the feeling he could look through my skin and see everything going on beneath the surface.

We entered the cavern and found ourselves on a sheer sheet of ice. Boulders—large blocks of granite that had cleaved off the mountain—littered the enormous chamber. The other side was difficult to make out. In fact, I wasn't even sure if we could really see it from here. I thought I might be able to make out a distant wall, but the light was too dim, and the chamber too large to know for certain.

The ice had a peculiar sheen to it. Unlike the ice in the realm of Winter, it bore only streaks of blue through it, no pinks or purples. Faint slate streaks that raced along the glassy surface. Pinpricks of light, sparkling like silver stars, shone from within the ice through the pale, hazy film of frost. Was this a giant ocean frozen over? Or simply ice on the ground? Or was it something else entirely, something Myst had managed to conjure from whatever magic her shamans had been able to manifest?

I leaned down and trailed my fingers across the surface. A faint pulse echoed from deep within the frozen waste, sending a tingle through my skin. For a moment it startled me, and I just about pulled away, expecting it to hurt, before realizing it actually was making me smile. There was something familiar about the sensation. And then I understood—it was the ice itself that tickled me.

Perhaps it was different than the ice back in my realm, but the feeling of the frozen water was comforting, and all ice came from the same underlying source. Myst might be an upstart, but she
had
managed to tap into Winter's energy, and she
did
understand its nature.

Which makes her even more dangerous. Ulean, how much do you think she knows about me? I mean, she knows I was her daughter, but how well do you think Myst understands who I am . . . and what I am becoming?

Ulean gently gusted past. I could feel her swirling amid the frosty air. She liked the winter. Even though summer winds might be fun to work with, I knew that Ulean preferred the cold, blustery gales of the dark months.

I think that she knows you better than you might wish for. Myst may be lost in her desire for control, but she does not underestimate her enemies, and like it or not, the two of you have commonalities. Cicely, you may have to try to understand her better, in order to defeat her. Find your similarities and you will find her weakness.

But finding her heartstone and destroying it seems easier.

Never count your storms before they brew. While you may find her heartstone, I have the feeling you will have to face the Queen herself.

And with that to chew on, I stood, surveying the vast chamber. I closed my eyes, searching my intuition.
Ulean, can you tell me which way to go?

I will scout around, but I think . . . I think you can figure out which way without me. I'll return in a moment.

As she swept off, I inhaled, then let out my breath slowly, searching the slipstream, trying to feel my way around. To the right the wasteland of ice continued, and I could sense nothing stirring. To the center? Again, a long uninterrupted stretch. But to the left—to the left, I caught the faintest hint of motion, and then, a hush as whatever it was felt me probing the slipstream.

Did you sense it?
Ulean returned.

Yes, to the left. What is it?

I honestly don't know, but whatever it is, it's big and lumbering. I can't give you an estimate, though, because it feels like it phases in and out of this plane. However, I can tell you that it isn't really an Elemental. Truly? It's like no creature I've ever before seen.

That was so not reassuring. A large, lumbering behemoth that wasn't an Elemental. Not much to go on with regard to what it was, or how dangerous it might be.

Did you sense any malevolence?

Like the snow weaver? No. I'm sorry I'm so vague, but I'm perplexed. I've never encountered this creature before, or anything like it. There is sentience, yes, and intelligence, but it feels distanced.

Maybe it was an animal of some sort. Which would make it harder to kill, at least for me. An animal wouldn't have any personal motivation against us—it would just be doing what it was summoned to do: protect.

I told the others what we were facing.

“How big is it?”

“Good question. Ulean says large, but she doesn't seem to be able to pinpoint what it is, or how large it is. Apparently it phases in and out, so it has to be magical to some degree. But there's no deliberate ill will there. The thing was probably summoned rather than being one of Myst's creatures.”

Hunter frowned. “That doesn't give us much to go on, and it doesn't make for confidence. Let me go up front with the men. I've seen many things through my life; perhaps I'll be able to recognize whatever this is.”

As he moved to the forefront and we continued on, Hunter suddenly turned. “The temperature of the air has just plummeted at least a good twenty to thirty degrees, all within one step. Magical cold coming up. A few more feet and you'll enter it. This is no natural cooling. No, it's caused by something, and I have a feeling we're going to meet up with whatever it is all too soon.”