Night's End (21 page)

“I don't think
you're
going to like it. You've run from it every time you've found it before. The story behind it scares you.” Violet didn't seem afraid, though, and that confused me.

“Why aren't you frightened? There's something dark and dangerous behind there.” I hesitantly put my hand on the knob.

“It's only dangerous if you let it overpower you. You have to be the one in control. I'm not afraid, because I'm already dead. There's nothing behind there that can hurt me.” Violet's logic made terrible sense, but it didn't do much for me.

“But I'm not dead yet—what's there
can
hurt me.”

She laughed then, both at me and with me. “Silly goose! You're not even
born
yet. Come to think about it,
I'm
not even born yet. How can something from the past hurt us when we aren't even alive?”

Her logic made an odd sense. I tried to work my head around it. When I touched lightly on the thought, I knew she was right. We were traveling into the past. How could the past hurt us when we were mere flickers of what might be? But when I tried to reason it out, to wrap my mind around the concept, I lost all sense of reality, and everything became a blur. I decided to take Violet's advice.

“Okay, then. I guess we just go in. Do you know what I'm looking for? I seem to have lost my memory.”

Violet shook her head. “No, but you'll know when you find it. That's how these things work, right? Otherwise, why would you be here?”

Pausing, I mulled over her words. “Seems good to me. Let's go then.” And with that I put my hand on the shadow-cloistered door and opened it. And as Violet and I went tumbling into a world of snow and ice and silvery spiderlike beings, she blended into me and became a part of my heart and soul.

Inhaling deeply, I opened my eyes and realized I was seeing through someone else's body. And yet, the body felt incredibly familiar. I wasn't sure who I was, or why I was here—wherever here was—but there was something I was searching for, and I could only discover it in this place, in this time. The memory of a song lingered, and the memory of a voice guiding me down a long hallway encased in mist, and there was the whisper of a little girl echoing in my head, but other than that, I had no clue as to what I was about or where I was.

I looked around. I was standing outside a hillock—a Barrow of sorts, and it was covered in deep snows. The trees surrounding it were weighed down with heavy blankets of white, their branches frozen to the ground. The air was clear, so clear it hurt my lungs, and the sky was that pale eggshell blue of dawn, but a storm was coming in—I could feel it in my bones. The energy of the storm was bringing heavy snow and snow-lightning, and it promised a renewal, recharging with its fury.

As I spread my arms wide, welcoming the coming fury, my stomach rumbled, and I realized that I was aching, so thirsty and hungry I was. A cunning swelled up, a desire to seek, to chase, to hunt, and I cast my eye around for possible prey. As I scouted out, following a faint scent that I caught on the wind, I saw him. He was tall and lean, and his clothing was barely enough to keep him from turning blue.

I squirmed as I stood there, and when I looked down, I realized I was naked—or nearly. A gossamer gown, silver threads loosely woven in a lacework pattern, hung lightly from my shoulders, but I could see through it the weave was so loose. My breasts, my stomach, my legs—my entire body was faintly cerulean, and with wonder, I ran my tongue over my teeth, feeling their razor-sharp edges pierce the flesh. Drops of blood welled up on my tongue, and their salty, metallic tang increased my hunger.

I lowered myself behind a nearby bush, as the man began to come my way. He hadn't seen me yet, and I had the feeling that if he knew I was here, he'd be running. All the more reason to be patient—to lie in wait like the snow weavers my mother kept as pets.

My mother?
The image of a tall queen rose up, stretching over the sky, blotting out the morning light. Thinly jointed, with angular eyes and a pale, dangerous beauty, her visage was imprinted on my heart, and I realized I loved her with a passion. She was my everything. She was my all, my role model, my goddess. And I was her beloved daughter.

Cherish.
That was my name. I was Cherish—and I was my mother's daughter in every way.

Well, almost every way.
The voice inside annoyed me, and I tried to push it away, but it wasn't so easily silenced.
You know I'm right. You know that you have something your mother doesn't, and that something might someday be her downfall when you rise up to take your rightful place as her heir to the throne.

A flash of anger raced through me.

“I'm no traitor. I will never betray my mother. If the throne comes to me, it will be through her choice—not mine.” My whisper barely touched the wind, but the slipstream caught it, carrying it deep onto the currents racing around the world.

You have no choice. Destiny will out. The strong always overcome the weak. It's evolution. It's what created your mother in the first place.

“Hush.” I shoved the thoughts aside as my prey neared the bush. He paused, and I realized he had sensed something was wrong. Maybe he heard my whisper, maybe he caught my scent. Whatever the case, there was no time to waste. I leaped out, landing in front of him, in a crouch.

He took one look at me and screamed, turning to flee. As I began to change, morphing into my beast, I reveled in the power of my jaws, of the bones shifting and lengthening. My head grew, my jaws transformed into a death vise, and I let out a laugh while I still could, from deep in my belly. A laugh of joy, pure and wallowing in the pain that I knew would follow.

My stomach rumbled, the hunger pushing me on, the lust for his blood and bone and life force so strong that there was nothing more in the world. The only thing that existed was my desire—and nothing, no plea for mercy, no stray thought, could assuage the hunger. Nothing except the feel of his gristle in my mouth, of the hot blood sliding down my throat. I lunged, jaws agape, and his screams punctuated the birdsong echoing through the early morning.

Later, satiated with a full belly, I used the snow to clean myself off. The hunger was at bay for now, and it was time to go home. My mother was waiting for me. There was something she had wanted to discuss with me earlier, but I'd blown her off in exchange for a little time outside by myself. Sometimes the din in the Barrow seemed overwhelming, and I had to get away from the noise.

I headed into the Barrow, ignoring the milling throng of our people. They were all descended from my mother, in a way. Myst had given birth to our race; the first ones were turned by her after the mad vampire had come up with his scheme. But he'd been weak, and my mother had grown stronger than he.

Once she told me that, after the turning, she'd realized he could never be her match, and so he became her enemy. And now, all vampires—the true vampires—were our foes. We were the rightful heirs to their lineage, we'd evolved far beyond their archaic powers, but they wouldn't accept that we were the next step in their evolution, and so we were always at war with them.

They didn't know we'd journeyed to this new land, though. Myst had kept it a secret, leaving some of our people behind to build a community in the old world, even as we'd discovered the vast, unspoiled wilderness here. There was room here, room in which to spread and breed.

Our kind reproduced slowly—and painfully. Mothers sometimes died in childbirth, their children ripping their way out of the womb. But I hadn't done so to my mother. I'd come into the world easy enough, though who my father was remained a mystery and always would. It didn't matter, though. I was Myst's daughter, heir to the Indigo Court, and I would help her reach out and take control of this land. Together, we would build an empire of blood and bone.

As I made my way into our private chambers, I looked around for Myst, but she was nowhere in sight. There was a serving girl nearby and I grabbed her by her hair and yanked her over to my side.

“Where's Queen Myst? Do you know?”

She sputtered, letting out a little growl, but I fisted her hair tighter and let go. She dropped to the ground at my feet. “Last I saw of her, she was in her bedchamber, Princess.”

“Go, then. Get about your work.” I kicked her out of the way, lightly though. It furthered nothing to damage the help. Put them in the infirmary and somebody else had to do their job.

I headed to my mother's chamber and was about to knock on the door when I heard something from inside. It was a groan—the sound of pain. Worried, I cracked the door and peeked inside.

There, lying on her bed, was my mother. Two Ice Elementals stood over her, and to the side, one of our healers. The Elementals were standing to either side of her, their arms outstretched over her body, and she was writhing, a look of pain sweeping across her face. Sparkles flickered in the air above her chest—a spray of magic filtering through the room, silver and white, and the color of the deep indigo that hits right before dusk. They swirled, like the stars in our eyes.

Slowly, I closed the door behind me and edged my way behind the floor-length curtain that draped over the wall. No one had noticed me; they were so focused on Myst and what was happening. The healer looked nervous, and he was muttering something beneath his breath.

I focused on the slipstream, trying to catch his words.

I don't know if this will work. . . . Please don't let her die. . . . Please let this work. . . .
He was frightened. That much came through.

Wanting to burst out into the open, to ask what the hell they were doing to her, I caught myself and kept quiet. If I interrupted, whatever they were involved in might go awry, and my mother would be furious with me. So I stood back, watching and waiting.

The thrumming in the room grew stronger, so loud it was like a flurry of bees in my head. Wincing, I covered my ears as my mother's cries grew stronger. But I couldn't look away.

And then I saw it—the swirls began to coalesce and take shape, forming into a pool of liquid energy over the center of her heart. A stream of light poured from her body into the pool as it whirled, turning like some mad dervish in the thrall of his dance. I'd seen them, somewhere, when I was very young, though I couldn't remember much about it. In some street somewhere, before we raced in and ravaged the townsfolk. He'd been spinning like a top, spinning like he was centered on a string that dizzily wavered round and round.

The energy over my mother shimmered, a diamond forming in blue and silver, but there was something about the whole thing that felt off—something was out of kilter.

I struggled to remember what she'd taught me about her early days, before the Turning. Before she'd founded the Indigo Court. She'd been a member of the Unseelie—the Dark Fae, and she'd watched as her sister ascended to the throne to become the Queen of Winter. My mother had thought the honor would go to her, but she'd been overlooked. Story after story flooded back, her resentment and anger echoing through my memories.

And then I realized what she was doing. My mother was creating her own heartstone. She was mocking the Courts of Fae by using their sacred ritual on herself. Somehow, she must have stumbled across the information on how this was done, because it wasn't common knowledge—that much was for sure. And now she was removing part of her essence to a sacred gem, to hide it and keep it safe. She was assuring her immortality.

As I watched, she let out a piercing scream as a white-hot pinprick of light shot up from her chest to the center of the sapphire. The stone began to take physical form, an emerald cut that was so dark blue it was almost black. But inside, sparkles of silver and white gave it life—my mother's life force, encased within the heart of the jewel. As long as it survived, so would she.

Another moment, and the Ice Elementals placed the jewel in a silver box and stepped away from the bed. Myst slowly sat up, groaning, as the healer hurried to her side. He checked her pulse, her eyes; he pressed his ear to her chest to listen to her heart.

“Well, is it done?” Myst smiled down at him, a gentle tone in her voice. He was her favorite. He'd been with her for many years and had brought me into the world. I liked him, as much as I could like anybody.

“It is done, Your Highness. Your heartstone has been created, and now one thing remains. You must hide it.” He gave her a faint smile. “You know what will happen should the Court of Rivers and Rushes or the Court of Snow and Ice find out what you've done. They will hunt it down and destroy it. You cannot let the information out that this ritual has taken place.”

She gave him a solemn nod. “I do know that. We've broken every rule the Greater Courts set forth. Over the years, we've torn the rules to shreds and then destroyed the remnants. But you are wrong about one matter, dear friend. Old friend. More than one thing remains to be done before I am safe.”