The Rabbit and the Raven: Book Two in the Solas Beir Trilogy (19 page)

“Love you too,” Abby
whispered. She spent the remaining hours of the night staring at his sleeping face, afraid to close her eyes, terrified of what she might see.

As he woke to take the next shift, David saw that Abby was awake. He reached over and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, noticing that the dark circles under her eyes seemed worse than ever. “No offense, sweetheart, but you look like you’re exhausted. Did you have trouble sleeping again?”

“A little bit,” Abby admitted. She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, staring into the branches above them.

David followed her eyes. Morning was coming; the darkness around them had faded to a dull grey. He sat up and rubbed her back. “What happened? Bad dream?”

“Something like that.”

“Want to talk about it?” David asked.

“No. Not really,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

David looked at her tired eyes and decided not to press the issue. “Okay. No pressure. But if you want to talk later, I don’t mind.” Were her dreams so terrible that she didn’t want to relive them by talking about them? Or…was it something else? Was she hiding something? David felt frustrated. He wished she would talk to him, let him help her with whatever was going on.

“Thanks,” Abby said. She smiled wearily. “For the record, it’s not because I’m trying to be stoic about it.”

David put his arms around her. “I know. But you don’t have to carry it alone. I know it’s got to be pretty bad if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Abby rubbed her temples as if her head were aching. “It’s just—sometimes it feels so real. Like I can’t tell anymore when I’m dreaming and when I’m awake. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“I’ll let you know if you are. And you’re not, by the way,” he said. He slipped his hands under hers and took over massaging her temples.

She relaxed and closed her eyes, letting her hands drop to her lap. “Thanks—that’s good to know. David?”

“Yeah?” He stopped the massage to show he was listening.

She opened her eyes. “Just…just promise me that if I say anything in my sleep, don’t be offended, okay? Just know that it’s a dream, and I can’t always control it. It doesn’t mean anything. Okay?”

What’s that supposed to mean?
he thought. She was definitely hiding something. But what? What could be so terrible that she’d keep it secret from him? David stared at her and then started rubbing her temples again. “Okay. I’ll try to remember that. I can’t imagine what you could possibly say that would offend me, though.”

“Well, I’ll try my best
not
to say anything like that,” Abby promised.

“Look,” he said, taking his hands from her face. The dull grey above them was growing greener. “It’s almost morning anyway, and the others need a little more sleep. Why don’t you get some more rest?”

“Don’t think that’s going to happen,” she said.

“It’s okay. Just lay your head in my lap. I can keep watch.”

“All right. Maybe the light will keep the nightmares away.” She laid her head on his thigh and closed her eyes. Her face relaxed again as he stroked her hair.

David watched her slip into a deep sleep. The dark circles under her eyes seemed to lighten as her breathing deepened. She almost looked like a child.

It worried him that she was keeping the dreams to herself. Weren’t they supposed to be connecting, working together? It seemed like they had been making good progress with dreamwalking, but now she had shut him out completely. There was something she wasn’t telling him, but he feared if he pressured her, she would pull away from him more than she already had.
What happened to us, Abby?
he thought.
Where have you gone? And what are you hiding?

Abby woke to soft whispers. At first, she feared that David was gone and she was trapped in another dream. Then she realized that the others were already awake, and David was talking softly to Cael on the other side of the camp. Immediately she knew the hushed conversation was about her.

“I’m worried about her,” she heard David say. “I’m losing her, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“All you can do is be there for her,” Cael replied. “She will talk when she is ready. She still loves you. Of that, I have no doubt.”

“I hope so,” David said. “I can’t do this without her. I’m not that strong.”

Abby saw Cael place his hand on David’s shoulder. “You are stronger than you know.”

Abby closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep again. After a short while, she gained the courage to sit up and pretend she hadn’t heard their conversation.

She spent the day walking beside David, being overly polite, trying to hide her anger. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much—it made perfect sense that David would feel that way, considering how she’d been acting, and it also made sense that he would consult with Cael. Who else would he talk to? Jon? Marisol? David had grown close to them, but they wouldn’t understand like Cael, who had his own c’aislingaer he worried about.

Abby didn’t know if Eulalia had shut Cael out during her years with Ardal, but Cael probably understood the toll Abby’s nightmares were taking. After all the years of waiting to finally be with Eulalia, he was well acquainted with the need for patience. Abby understood all this in some logical part of her mind, but another part of her felt betrayed.

Night had fallen yet again, and she lay on her side, studying David’s face in the firelight. He was fast asleep, but she could see that he seemed to be having a nightmare of his own. His brow was creased, and she could see the movement of his eyes under the lids.
I’m so sorry,
she thought, and kissed his forehead. He stirred, and his face relaxed. He was still deep in his dreams, but whatever storm had been raging in his mind seemed to have quieted.

Over his shoulder, she saw movement. She sat up, staring into the darkness of the jungle. Had the screamer found them? She looked back to the camp fire. It was still burning brightly. Jon and Marisol were keeping watch, their backs to each other, as usual, their fingers intertwined as they talked softly, keeping each other awake. They too were staring into the darkness, but seemed relaxed, unaware that anything might be amiss.

Abby, on the other hand, felt her body tense up as she became aware that they were not alone, that someone, or something, was watching them, veiled in that curtain of darkness, just out of the firelight’s reach. And whoever it was whispered one word. Her name.

She knew who it was.
Tierney.

With this realization came a surprise. She was no longer afraid. She was angry.
This ends tonight,
she thought.
No more secrets, no more hiding.

Standing up, she took one last look at David, who was still sleeping peacefully, completely unaware that she had left his side. She was thankful for that. Whatever happened next, she didn’t want him to know about the dreams with Tierney. She had never meant to betray him, and she felt guilty enough as it was. She stepped out of the firelight and into the darkness.

In spite of the blackness of the night, she could see Tierney moving just ahead. She snuck away from the campsite to follow him, her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready for whatever he had planned. He led her through the trees to a place where there was a break in the canopy, and the moonlight streamed through, lighting his handsome face.

His hair was as dark as David’s, but longer and wavy. He was a little taller too, and had olive skin. The biggest difference between them, though, was their eyes. It wasn’t just that Tierney’s were so dark; there was something older about them, timeless and ancient at the same time. And while she could tell what David was thinking just by looking into his eyes, it was impossible to read Tierney. Not that she cared what Tierney was thinking. She just wanted to put an end to this madness, to make him stay out of her head and leave her and David alone.

He stepped up on a large, flat rock and nonchalantly leaned against a low branch in a tree. Guarded, Abby followed his gaze to the pond that lay below his perch. The water was so calm and still that the pond seemed unreal, like mirrored glass. Giant lily pads rested on its surface, and a single, sweet-smelling, white flower sat in the center of each; the flowers glowed like tiny moons.

“It
’s beautiful here, is it not?” Tierney asked. He looked at her and smiled warmly.

Abby had been expecting him to intimidate her, to threaten her. Not this. She felt her resolve falter as he gestured for her to join him, to sit and enjoy the view, it seemed. She had come prepared for a war of words, prepared to die fighting if it came to that. She had not considered a peaceful outcome.

Silently she stepped closer, joining him on the rock. She leaned against the trunk of the tree, trying to mirror his calm stance, but she was unwilling to let her guard down. She could feel his eyes on her as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t frighten you this time, did I?” he asked.

“No,” Abby said. “You didn’t.” She didn’t want to look at him. She stared out at the pond instead, and came to a decision. If Tierney was going to play at peace, she would play nice too, at least until she had the answers she needed. She turned to look at him. “I had a dream about you,” she said.

“Did you? I’m flattered.” His dark eyes burned into hers. “Tell me, little Rabbit. What did you dream?”

Abby uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips. “Why do you keep calling me Rabbit?”

Tierney grinned to himself. “You will find out soon enough.”

“Fine,” she said angrily. “But that is
not
my name.”

“All right then, Abigail. Tell me your dream,” he said softly.

Was he actually apologizing? Abby wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure about a lot of things all of a sudden. She felt her guard slipping away as she lowered her arms to her sides. “You showed me a city, and how my world was being destroyed by my own people. You said we’re locusts, and without you to prey on us, we would destroy ourselves completely,” she recounted.

Tierney stared at her. “There is truth to that. You humans do have a tendency to self-destruct, don’t you? I know you think I’m a monster, Abigail, but without me, humans would have killed themselves off long ago. You don’t know how many times my kind have saved the human race from itself.”

“So enlighten me. I want to know.”

“Do you really?” A small smile played on his lips as though he were amused by her boldness. “Well, then, as you wish, dear girl. Long ago, before we were barred from your world, those like me provided a valuable service to your kind. You were at each other’s throats all the time, warring, preying on one another. We targeted the most vile among you, those who preyed on innocence, and we thinned the herd, as it were, removing those who would have poisoned you all. You were like rats, multiplying, greedily competing for food, killing each other with disease. Was not the loss of a few worth the salvation of many?”

“You did us a
service
?” Abby spat, incredulous. “Call it what you will, but you’re still talking about killing people. If we are rats, you are snakes.”

Tierney chuckled softly, his dark eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “Oh, humans. One serpent leads you astray, and you are forevermore biased.” He took a step toward her, his hands clenched at his sides. “I am not a snake, but I
am
a predator. I cannot deny it, I cannot switch it off. This is what I was made to be. A killer.”

Abby stood frozen. His eyes were intense—she couldn’t look away.

“But Abby—that does not mean that you and I are enemies.” He suddenly pulled her to him and kissed her.

Abby. Not Rabbit. Not Abigail. Abby.
The way he said her name was so tender, so intimate. She knew she should pull away, that if she let him kiss her she really
was
turning into Lucia. But she didn’t.

David stirred in his sleep and reached for Abby. She wasn’t there. He woke up, suddenly desperate to feel her beside him, to know she was safe, instantly aware that something was horribly wrong. In a flash, he was on his feet.

He was the lion again, searching for her scent. He bounded off into the darkness, leaving Jon and Marisol by the fir
e. Startled into their own awareness that something was wrong, David heard them calling for Cael to wake up as he left the campsite.

David sped through the forest after Abby, his white fur almost glowing against the darkness. He could feel her and something else—something that might take her from him.

As he broke from the trees, he saw her, dazed, teetering on a rock above a moonlit pond. Surrounding her, in an ever tightening circle, were dark, squatting shapes with red eyes and gnashing teeth.
Toads,
David thought, in a flash of recognition. They were monstrous, bigger than any amphibians he’d ever seen, with ridges on their heads like horns, and great lumpy warts covering their slimy skin. But there was something else too, something with Abby, a shadow encircling her like smoke.