Grave Dance (38 page)

The spel felt slimy to my senses. In contrast, her soul underneath was a thing of heat and life. It was easy to tel the two apart, but not quite as easy to separate them. I needed something for the spel to latch on to, or maybe something to disrupt it. Drawing on the power stored in my ring, I sent a focused tendril of pure magic into the spel . In theory, the spel would either latch on to the new source of power and try to jump to me—though hopeful y I’d be faster and have time to cut off the stream while the spel was between hosts—or the magic would give the spel a bit of a jolt. Or it would do nothing, but that was a bad option so I didn’t think too hard about it.

The outline of the spel turned fuzzy as my magic hit it.

The edges curled like the legs of a dying spider, and I seized my opportunity. I snatched the spel in the very center and tugged. It pul ed free, wiggling in my grasp for a moment. Then, without the physical connection to Hol y to sustain it, the spel dissolved.

Hol y blinked. “Alex? Oh, my God, Alex!” She threw her Hol y blinked. “Alex? Oh, my God, Alex!” She threw her arms around my neck. “Is it real y gone?” The heat of her skin burned against my bare shoulders and she jerked back. “God, Al, you’re cold. Are those icicles on your dress?”

“It’s a long story.” I stood, pul ing her up with me. “Hol y, do you know what happened to you? Who did this?”

“I remember.” She wrapped her arms across her chest as her green eyes took on a distant, haunted look. “Al, she’s crazy. She left not long ago, saying she had one more spel to cast. She said this ritual would set her free.” Hol y shook her head and then suddenly went completely stil . Her hand flew to her mouth, her fingers pressed against her lips. “I didn’t,” she whispered.

“Didn’t what?” Oh, crap, what sick thing had the accomplice made Hol y do while she was under the spel ?

Tears slid down Hol y’s cheeks. “I ate it. I ate Faerie food.”

Chapter 36

F
aerie food. It was addictive to mortals. Always. Even a single bite.

I gave my friend a hug, because she needed it. “We’l figure something out,” I promised. We could get it shipped out or something. We’d find a way. It didn’t have to be the end of the world. But if we didn’t find and stop the accomplice before she managed to merge realities, the world as we knew it would change. “I know this is going to sound cold, but we’re going to have to deal with the food later. Right now I need you to tel me about the witch. She’s performing the ritual tonight? Did she say where it would take place?”

Hol y’s eyes squeezed shut, blocking more tears as she shook her head. I turned to Falin.

“We have to get to the mortal realm, now.”

“Alex, I’m not even sure what court we’re in.” He stalked across the smal room, glancing at the contents as if the sparse furnishings would give him a clue. I didn’t know enough about the courts to make a guess, but nothing about the room made me think of a season.

Could we be in Stasis?

I froze. Stasis. A powerful witch who was a changeling. A changeling who’d recently been freed but was stil not truly free.

A sick feeling crawled down my skin. I knew someone who fit al those qualities.

Rianna.

“Hol y, what did the witch look like?” I asked, and my

“Hol y, what did the witch look like?” I asked, and my voice came out low, distant.

“I—” She shook her head. “I don’t know. She wore a cloak.”

Damn.
When I’d first seen Rianna under the Blood Moon, when she’d stil been Coleman’s bound and subservient Shadow Girl, she’d worn a gray cloak. No. I couldn’t suspect my childhood friend of being a heartless murderer.

Or could I?

I’d felt the kil er’s hope, her joy in that circle by the river.

Tiddlywinx had said the witch wanted to be with her love. If the ritual was opening a way to be with true love, that might cause a lot of hope and joy. Love can cause great and terrible things.

I sank down on my heels, fal ing away from Hol y as I clutched my own knees.

The pieces fit. The timing fit. Rianna knew what I could do. She’d asked me for help around the same time this started. She’d also returned my dagger, which was now fol owing me around and had a tendency to tear holes in reality when used. It fit.

“Alex, what is it?” Falin asked, staring down at me.

I looked around. This room might be in my own castle. It couldn’t be Rianna. But it al fit.

No, not al . What about Desmond? I suspected that he loved her, and there was nothing keeping them apart. And if Rianna was the accomplice and already hunting me when I came to Faerie, why didn’t she trap me then?

So it doesn’t all fit.
I breathed out a sigh as that little bit of hope created enough room in my chest for me to breathe.

But not much. The sick, dread-laced feeling stil gripped me hard.

I stood and turned toward Kyran. “You said you can get us to Nekros without passing through the winter court?”

He flashed me a grin. “My dear, I can most likely find the shadow of the witch you seek, but I believe we must hurry.

Time is running out.” He peered into his hourglass again.

Time is running out.” He peered into his hourglass again.

I stared at the rushing sand and again asked, “What happens when it runs out?”

“A moment in time, nothing more. But one I do not wish to miss.”

Right.
“Let’s go.” We had a shadow to find and a ritual to stop.

“This would be the one,” the nightmare kingling said as the shadows in the nightmare realm separated to show the one, or real y, the shadows, that he meant.

The shadows danced, leaping and twisting against the pale sand. Not just one or two shadows either, but more than a dozen, al in constant motion. I stared at it.
This can’t
be right.
There was too much movement. Too many people.

It looked more like a party.

“Perhaps a little farther from the action.” Kyran lifted his arms and the shadows slid across the sand. The shapes that replaced them were large and too formless for me to decipher what had cast them, but at least they were stil .

“This, I think, shal do nicely,” he said.

I nodded. As long as we ended up safely in the city we had a better chance of finding the accomplice—
not
Rianna, please not Rianna
—than if we were stuck in Faerie. I waited, but Kyran made no move to lead us through the shadow.

“I have a confession,” he said, turning toward me. “This is the door you need, but I can’t open it.”

What did he mean he couldn’t open it? Falin’s hand on my waist twitched.

I swal owed around the lump suddenly lodged in my throat, but tried to keep my voice level as I asked, “Do we need another shadow?”

Kyran shook his head. “My power does not let me open doors into the mortal realm. But yours wil .”

doors into the mortal realm. But yours wil .”

Damn. And this would be the catch. “What happens if I open a door?”

“You can freely walk from the nightmare realm to the mortal realm until dawn moves the shadows and the realms no longer touch.”

No wiggle room in that statement, so it had to be true.

What does he stand to gain?
It hit me suddenly. “If we can walk through, the nightmares can, too.”

“Very good,” he said with a smile, genuinely pleased.

“Alex, what is he talking about?” Hol y whispered, stepping closer to me. I hadn’t told her anything about the whole feykin planeweaver thing. Looked like I’d have some explaining to do—if we survived this. But not now.

I shook my head. “Later, Hol .” I focused on Kyran again.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, al his weight on one leg, the other knee slack, as if whatever decision I came to made no difference to him. “What wil the nightmares do in the mortal realm?”

He shrugged. “The same thing they do here. Cause terror. Fear nourishes them.” He glanced at the hourglass.

Only a thin line of sand remained in the top globe. “You are running out of time.”

I looked at the hourglass. “What happens when the sand runs out?”

He smirked. “Ah, final y, you’ve asked three times,” he said, and I remembered too late that three was often significant. A weight stretched between us. It wasn’t quite the same feeling as when a debt opened, but it was the same sort of magic. “The hourglass counts the moments until al doors open when the planes merge—or the moment in which that is prevented. Hard to say which, but one way or the other, it wil happen soon.”

Damn.
He real y had been screwing with me this whole time. I glanced at the hourglass. At the rate the sand was fal ing, it had maybe twenty minutes until the top globe ran out of sand.
And then the world as we know it will change.

out of sand.
And then the world as we know it will change.

Or someone will stop the ritual.

I swal owed the bitter taste in my throat and stared at the shadows surrounding me.
A few hours of nightmares, or a
world where all known and unknown realities converge.
Or maybe I was overestimating my evolvement. Maybe the col ectors would stop this al on their own. Or the cops. Or some random good citizen who just happened to stumble by.
But can I take that gamble?

I looked at Falin. “What do I do?”

He shook his head. “I would say the lesser harm for the greater good, but I cannot make this choice for you.”

“I’m voting for stopping the bad guys,” Hol y said. She was a DA—her life was al about putting the bad guys away. She wiped her palms on her silk PJ bottoms.

Nervous sweat?
“I guess this wil be a little more hands-on than my normal approach,” she said, flashing me a weak smile. “But someone deserves a hefty serving of revenge.”

Nightmares it is.
Except one problem. “I don’t know how to open a door.” I’d tried before; it hadn’t worked.

“Yes, I did see your attempt in the shadow court,” the kingling said as he circled the hourglass.

“Yo u
saw
?” That meant he’d been watching me long before I’d fal en through that nightmare. For al I knew, he’d sent my bad dreams.

He clasped his hands behind his head so his elbows framed his face. “The planebender bent Faerie—hence the name. He took two places that normal y don’t touch and shoved them until they col ided and a door could be opened between them. Very messy and very forceful. Your power is not. It is not your nature to shove realities around. Your power is to weave planes together.”

“And why do you know so much about planeweavers?”

Kyran only smiled. “This shadow exists both here and in the mortal realm. They sit directly on top of each other. Al you need to do is tie them together so you can walk between them.”

them.”

Oh, yeah, real easy.

But I had to try.

I handed PC to Hol y. I didn’t want to be holding him while I tried to manipulate unfamiliar magic. If something went horribly wrong, I didn’t want him caught in the side effects.

Then I lowered my shields and focused on the shadow closest to me. I mental y reached for it, touching it with my power and trying to concentrate on the fact that it not only existed here but also was being cast by something in the mortal realm. At first al I saw was a shadow over sand.

Then the shadow deepened, darkened, and I could tel it was being cast by a tree. Actual y, more than one tree. I could see them.
It worked?

A chattering sounded in the dark around me. Then the darkness surged forward. Somewhere behind me Hol y screamed, but the nightmares weren’t after us. They were aiming for the door and there was no stopping them. The nightmares poured through the door I’d opened—dozens, hundreds. Maybe thousands.

I swal owed, watching the monsters I’d released escape into the unsuspecting mortal realm.
Let this have been the
right choice.
Then the nightmares were gone, the darkness strangely empty without them.

“What were
those
?” Hol y asked, stil breathless from screaming.

No one answered. Falin scowled at the opening, and I wondered if he stil thought the reaper and accomplice’s threat was more dangerous than what I’d released. But it was done now.

Kyran lifted the hourglass, using the pole it stood on as a walking stick. He damn near skipped as he headed for the door. “Coming?” he asked, glancing first at me and then at the hourglass. Only a sliver of sand remained. “Looks like the end, one way or the other, wil be soon.”