Night's End (25 page)

“Open in the name of Queen Cicely!”

A moment later, and Ysandra's shaking voice called out, “Are you there, Cicely? Is it really you?”

I pushed to the front, Check and Fearless by my side. “Yes, it is me. We're here.”

The door slammed open, and we took in the scene. Ysandra and her Elite Consortium Guard were standing watch over fourteen children. The windows were straining with the blows on the other side—Shadow Hunters and snow weavers, no doubt. Two of the Consortium witches were holding a force field—strained to the limit—that prevented them from breaking through, but they couldn't hold it for much longer. The stress on their faces was horrible, lining their brows deep with the exertion.

Several of my men rushed forward and began escorting the children out. The rest formed a line at the wall of windows, readying their swords. The moment the force field broke, the Shadow Hunters would burst through into the building. As soon as everybody was out except for the guards, the Consortium witches dropped their spells and raced out of the way.

I watched from outside the door as the glass shattered and Shadow Hunters and snow weavers scurried through. At that moment, the dead swarmed in to help, and Check pulled the door shut, hurrying us away from the room. Ysandra looked exhausted, but she and two of her other elite joined hands. A moment later, a circle of protection rose around us, the energy undulating in concentric waves to encircle us, like ripples on a pond. A group of my guards surrounded them, protecting all of us from disturbance.

As seconds stretched into moments, we waited, poised to fall back. The sounds of fighting echoed from within the room, steel clanging, snarls and shrieks and growls. Finally, I couldn't wait any longer.

Ulean, please tell me what you can?

She swept past, vanishing into the room. A moment later she was back.
Your men are winning. Hold fast—it should not be long now. But there are casualties on our side. The dead are working swiftly, but they can only feed so much before being satiated and unable to siphon off any more energy.

I wondered how that worked. I'd never had much interaction with spirits, or with ghosts—if there was even a difference between the two. Hell, I hadn't even realized they could feed off the living. Unless these were very different from the typical Halloween ghost.

Another moment, and the door opened. Olrick stumbled out, bloody but alive, followed by the rest of our men and a swarm of the dead. The stench of blood ran thick from within the room and from what little I could see, the carnage was spread everywhere. It looked like a slaughterhouse.

“Did we lose anyone?” I gritted my teeth, praying the answer wouldn't be too bad.

“Four men dead, and one seriously wounded. Considering the odds, not a heavy loss. We cleaved down thirty-five Shadow Hunters and a dozen or more snow weavers.” Olrick did his best to salute without splattering me with blood—he was slick with it, but still managed to present himself properly.

I nodded. Four dead still hurt, but I had to get used to thinking in terms of relative victories. “Very good.” I glanced around. “I suppose we should get the hell out of here. We need to get the children safely away.”

“You are correct. With all respect, Your Majesty, we can't waste more time here. Myst, no doubt, has still larger forces in the town, and while we have been victorious so far, the storm is worsening. We should fall back and regroup, and yes—guide these children to safety.” Olrick punctuated his words with a formal bow.

“You're correct. Let's get back to the Veil House while we are all still in one piece—well, mostly all.” I closed my eyes.
Ulean, are you here?

Yes, Cicely. What do you need?

Please, lead us back to the Veil House via the most direct, easiest route you can find. The storm has picked up even more since we got here, and I don't want anybody lost or left behind.

Come, then, follow me, and I will get you home safely.

Ysandra and her crew dropped their spell and we swept out the door, into the night. The trip home was rough, but if there were other Shadow Hunters who saw us on the way back, they left us alone. Chilled and soaked through from the storm, we made it back to the Veil House.

We needed a rest before setting out after Myst's heartstone. While my endurance and stamina had shifted dramatically when I took on the mantle of Winter, I desperately wanted a plate of hot food and some dry clothes before we took off again.

Luna immediately went about heating up some soup and biscuits.

I lingered in the kitchen beside her. “I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but I have a few questions.”

She glanced at me, her expression bleak. “I wish I felt differently. I wish I wasn't so angry with you. I understand, I really do, why you did what you did, but that doesn't change the fact that . . .”

“That I forced you into something against your will and it brought up some really bad memories.” I bit my lip at the swift jerk of her head. “Yes, Kaylin told me—but only me.”

“I wish he hadn't done that. There are some events that you don't want people to know about because they always look at you differently after they find out.” She stared into the pot, stirring the soup more than it really needed.

“Luna, you know I'll never say anything to anyone. But it made me realize how rough this was for you. I hope you know that I'd do anything to be able to change what happened, to be able to undo it—but . . .”

“But you were looking for a spy and you had to know. I understand.” She paused, then said, “Did you find out who it is?”

Oh man, here it came. The conversation I really didn't want to have. I bit my lip and stared out the window. The outside world was a blue of darkness and white—the sky and snow glimmering silver in the night as the flurries whirled out of control.

She must have sensed something was up, because she rested a hand on my arm. “Tell me. Please. What did you find out? Is it very bad?”

She'd have to know sometime, though I really hadn't planned on having it out at this point. But since she brought it up, I couldn't very well lie and later on dash her spirits again. Given everything that had gone down, it was probably better I tell her now.

“Yes, we know who it is. We still haven't found her, but she's hiding in the realm of Winter, and my men are searching for her now.”

“Who is it?”

Exhaling softly, I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

Luna frowned. “Cicely, I know I'm mad at you, but you know you can trust me. Why won't you tell me? Do the others know yet?”

“Only Grieve and a few of my trusted warriors.” I stared at her, trying to gauge what her reaction would be. Her loyalty to her sister ran deep, but I also knew they were at odds over a number of things. “The question is: Do you trust
me
? Do you really trust me to tell you the truth, Luna? After everything that has happened, I need to know. Never fear, I know you won't betray us. I also realize that you summoned Dorthea and the dead to prove your loyalty, but . . . what will you do, I wonder, if I tell you who the spy is?”

Paling, she backed away. “Please, tell me it's not Peyton or Ysandra?”

Shaking my head, I attempted a feeble smile. “No, neither one of them. But you know who it is—I mean, you know the person. And the news will not go down easily.”

Luna hesitated, then went back to stirring the soup. The irritation seemed to fade away as her shoulders slumped. “Zoey. It's Zoey, isn't it?”

Both startled and yet—oddly unsurprised, I rested a hand on her shoulder. With that lead-in, it made sense she would guess correctly. “Yes, we are almost positive. My men are searching for her now. So, what do you say to this? What are you feeling . . . thinking?”

“I would like to say I can't imagine her doing anything like this, but the truth is, I don't know Zoey anymore. I was honestly surprised she helped us with Grieve.” Without turning around, she mumbled, “What do you think happened?”

“We think she connected with Myst's energy during the ceremony where she helped free Grieve, and that somehow Myst managed to snare her in. Ulean traced the spy's energy signature back to her. We . . . I'd like to say I'm not sure, but the truth is, we are.” I dreaded the next question, which I knew had to come. And I was right.

“What will you do with her, when you find her?” Now, Luna did turn to face me. “I know the punishment for spies.”

I had no clue what to say. Truth was I hadn't thought that far ahead. “I don't know. I really don't know what to do. She's your sister, Luna, but she's working for an enemy who could destroy all of us. What would you do?”

Luna hesitated, then shrugged. “I'd have her killed. If Myst can see through her eyes, unless you keep her under lock and key in some bare cell that is magic-proof, then she's a danger.”

That was an idea. “Maybe we can rig up something like that.”

“But what then, after the war? If we win? She will have endangered us all. What the hell are we supposed to do with her then? Just let her go? She might be my sister, but a traitor is a traitor and I'll never be able to forgive her.” She slumped, suddenly, and her shoulders began to shake. I could hear the sobs well up in her throat and, whether she wanted it or not, I slipped my arms around her back and hugged her gently.

“I'm so sorry. I've ripped your world apart, it feels like.”

She shivered, and I turned her around, taking the soup spoon out of her hand and setting it on the spoon rest. I turned the burner to low, then moved Luna over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “Sit.”

She did, leaning her forehead against her hand, staring at the table surface. “No. You didn't rip my world apart. Myst did. Everything was fine until she came along. She's to blame, Cicely—not you. You saved my life, and I'll never forget that.” She looked up, her tearstained face pale. “You saved me that first night I came to you for a reading. You kept me here, and we both know what would have happened if I'd left. I'd be caught in her webs by now, most likely dead.”

I reached out, took her hand in mine. “Luna, can you get out of the deal with Dorthea?”

She gave me a bleak look. “No, and it doesn't matter. My fate was sealed when I cast the spell to find Rhiannon. Once you make a pact with the ancestors, they own you. I think something like this would have happened sooner or later, anyway. I was always destined to work with them—I just didn't know it. In a terrible, frightening way, all of this feels right. Even the deal with Dorthea feels like a destiny I'm meant to fulfill.”

There wasn't much I could say to that. I had just handed her the information that her sister's life was up for forfeit. That Zoey was a traitor. And Luna was accepting it with a resignation that was almost as frightening as her acceptance of Dorthea's terms.

I rubbed my hand against her back and let out a soft sigh. “Myst has sure screwed the pooch, hasn't she?”

Luna snorted. “Understatement of the year, Cicely. Now grab some bowls and let's eat. You have a long and dangerous journey ahead of you.” She crossed back to the stove and took a taste of the soup, adding salt and a little pepper. The scent of chicken and rosemary rose from the pan, making me hungry. “I wish I had time to make a real soup. The canned stuff works, but it's nothing like mine.”

“I believe you on that. I know what a good cook you are.”

She smiled at me, and then, just like that, we were back to being friends, even if things were a bit strained. As I began to set out the bowls, Rhia and Peyton joined us, and soon we were all gathered around the oak table, holding hands. It felt like an ending. If we could find Myst's heartstone and destroy it, the town would be freed, but things would continue to change, and Luna would still be forfeiting her life. If we couldn't, then we faced a long, arduous battle, and chances were we wouldn't win the war. And we might all forfeit our lives.

Wrapped in the melancholy cloud of thought, I forced my attention back to the table.
Focus on now
, I thought.
Focus on this moment, right here. Focus on the soup and the biscuits, focus on your friends and the warmth of the house as the storm rages outside. Focus on these things—this is what you are fighting for. Get lost in what might be, and you'll lose your will. You have to remember that friends and loved ones, and this way of life, this . . . this is worth fighting for. This is worth the struggle. Myst can try to defeat us, but don't give her any quarters—don't give her more power than she already has.

A gentle gust of warmth surrounded me. Ulean was by my side. She embraced me in her ethereal arms, soothing me as I bit into the bread. I forced myself to breathe, to ground and come back to the present.

My grandfather was with us at the table, and I realized how much I'd lose if I didn't talk to him while I had the chance. Tomorrow was iffy—yesterday, gone. There was only today.