A Thief of Nightshade (11 page)

“You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” she asked. Somewhere near two in the morning, Jullian had woken her up in one of his feverish fits. He would toss and turn in maddening struggle, as if he were fighting for his life. He would sweat and his skin would burn to the touch. It frightened her and she couldn’t count how many times she’d begged him to go to the doctor.

“I woke you,” he said apologetically.

“I couldn’t care less that you woke me, Jullian. This isn’t healthy for you. Do you ever remember them?”

He lifted her from the blankets and sheets and held her against his chest, feathering light kisses on her forehead. “I don’t ever want to forget. As bad as nightmares are, they are far better than the alternative.”

She curled into him tighter. “You dream about your past?”

“Mostly.”

“But not always?”

He let his lips linger while he considered his answer. “No, not always.”

She didn’t press him. She never did.

Jullian wasn’t the type of person who could be coerced into answering what he hadn’t voluntarily admitted. If he wanted her to know, he would tell her and it would mean that much more when he’d trusted her enough to confide in her. Until then, she was pacified by his tenderness and his doting touch. The wedding was in three months, the sheer number of events preceding it bordered on the obscene and no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was on the verge of something much, much larger than herself. She’d always felt that way with Jullian.

“I don’t exactly have nightmares anymore, but I used to,” she admitted.

Jullian often told her she was afraid of her own shadow.

“Samantha told me.”

She pushed out of his hold enough to look at him in mock horror. “She didn’t!

You know, I don’t think she’s ever going to stop calling you Dr. Sellars. What else did she tell you?”

Jullian forcefully pulled her back to him. “Well, she told me that if I ever hurt you, I would have hell to pay, by her hands no less. I believe her completely and utterly. Good thing she has nothing to worry about. I would give my life for yours, you know this, don’t you?” There was an odd inflection in his voice, almost as though he really thought she didn’t know it.

“Of course. This has to do with your dreams, doesn’t it?” He’d been writing with manic pace for the last few weeks, a new book about Avalar, his darkest yet.

“They always get worse when you write like this ... your nightmares, I mean.”

He agreed. “Yes. But I must.” He struggled for words, his usual fluency halting awkwardly. “I wish ... there is so much I want to ... I can’t imagine how you put up with me, my secrecy and my obvious issues with the past.” He looked at her, his steely blue eyes begging her to ease his mind. “Just promise me ... this won’t make any sense to you, but tell me anyway that should you ever find yourself in harm’s way, you’ll remember the things that I’ve said to you. You’ll remember that I love you.” He placed his hand over the necklace that hung beneath her t-shirt. She knew it meant a great deal to him, but this time he was right, what he was saying didn’t make any sense.

She smiled warmly, taking his face in her hands as she so often did. “You do this sometimes and I will never understand why. You wake from these nightmares, holding me like I am going to slip away from you, where to I don’t have a clue.

You watch over me like there are real monsters in the dark, and I love you for it, but something haunts you and I cannot help

you unless you open up to me.”

“You no longer fear the dark because you know there isn’t anything there, but what if you couldn’t be assured of that?”

To be fair, she knew something was there ... in the dark ... she always had. But she hated it when he would get this way, speaking in riddles and suggesting ridiculous concepts that had to come from the hours he spent in his own head while he was writing. “What happened to you?”

she asked quietly. “Where are these nightmares coming from?”

Avalar

“I can walk.” Aubrey pushed at Aislinn as he tried to pick her up. She then darted to the opposite side of the street. Her pain, like magic, had vanished. She gathered that could be attributed to whatever the madame had given her. Her irritation at Aislinn’s dishonesty, however...

“This

is

ridiculous,”

Aislinn

grumbled. “You can’t even walk a straight line, come back over here.”

She had no interest in talking to him; in fact, she didn’t even want to look at him and instead of heeding his beckoning, she stumbled farther down the narrow alley on her own side.

“Aubrey,

get

over

here!”

he

whispered hoarsely.

“No. I’m fine on my own. Go back to Galydon! What good is the help of someone who lies? How do I know I can even trust you?” She tripped but caught herself. She glimpsed at Aislinn’s frown as he searched the street intently, waited a moment more and then rushed across, rising up on two feet to pin her to the wall.

“You’re drugged, you don’t know where you’re going and you’re bleeding.”

She tried to duck under his arms but was too slow. “I am not, they’ve already scabbed over.”

“I’m not talking about the wounds on your back, you’ve got blood running down your neck, courtesy of your little friend at the Crimson Stair,” he snarled. “I will not chase you all over Rheavon just because you think you know something. You don’t know anything and I can’t go back to Galydon, you’d be dead in a matter of days.”

“I’m dying anyway,” she said quietly.

“What difference is it to you? You have no concerns for the kingdom of Man or my world. What have you to gain that you never even paused in deciding whether to help me or not? It appears you aren’t telling me a lot of things.”

“Appearances aren’t everything.”

She gasped. It had been there for her to notice all along, but she hadn’t until just that exact turn of phrase. Aislinn’s voice, his bitterness, his knowledge of the human world and those in it, coupled with his causal manner with Tabor all suggested that he hadn’t merely known who Jullian was. She reached up, and touched his face.

“No, they aren’t,” she smiled sadly.

“I thought I heard Jullian’s voice when I woke up, when I first met Lilly...”

He wanted to name our firstborn son, Aislinn.

Aislinn lowered his head. “You’d been out for days ... delirious.”

“No. I heard you. You’re wrong, I do know something. Discovering that Jullian had

been

brought

back

destroyed

everything you’ve been holding onto.

That’s why your demeanor changed so much after you found out where I was from.”

Aislinn dropped onto all fours and started to move away from her.

“You’re Jullian’s brother,” she said.

He stopped, without turning around to face her, and growled low ... a warning to let him be.

Lipsey had gathered moss and leaves for them to sleep on by the time she made it back to the hill.

“Oh no, you’re bleeding!” he squeaked.

“So I’ve been told.” She could barely stand up anymore and gratefully curled up in a ball on top of the bedding he’d prepared. She was just closing her eyes when his shadow fell over her face, his tufted ears twitching as he poked her.

“Where’s Aislinn?”

She groaned, rolled over and tried her best to ignore him. “I don’t know.”

“Is he bleeding, too? What happened, did you find the crimson lady?”

She laughed. “Lady Crimson and yes, we did. Aislinn isn’t bleeding any worse now than he was before we left, he’s fine.

He’s just ill with me.”

Lipsey plopped down beside her, his tiny arms crossed over his chest. “What will we do now? I should go look for him.”

She rolled back over. “And just what would you do if you found him? You do realize how small you are.”

He giggled, “Yes, small, no doubt.

Why is he ill with you?”

She didn’t know whether to reveal his secret or let Aislinn tell him. “Because I reminded him of some very painful wounds.”

Lipsey snatched his tail, shoving it into her view with one hand. “I had my

tail caught in a door once. I thought I was going to die.” He smoothed the fur at the tip.

She smiled, and patted the squirrel on his well-meaning head. “Good night, little one. With any luck, he’ll be back here in the morning.”

“How did you know?” Aislinn’s voice woke Aubrey from a dreamless sleep.

She labored to open her eyes, certain that she’d just returned from Rheavon and that when she did manage to look up, the sky would be lit by the sparkle of stars.

Instead,

light

flooded

her

already

overworked senses. “Know what?” she whispered.

“The meaning of life. What do you think I mean?” he snapped.

“Well,” She sat up, regretting it when the pull on her back was stronger than she’d anticipated, “between the Lessening and the drug I was given, I’m lucky to know my own name. I suppose you meant to ask me, nicely, how I knew you were Jullian’s brother?”

Lipsey tilted his head like a dog that hasn’t quite understood what his master has asked of him. “How could a bear be the Prince’s brother? Now that doesn’t make any sense at all.”

Aubrey gingerly made it to her feet.

“It does if the Sidhe’s punishment for helping Jullian escape was turning Aislinn into a bear.” She looked at Aislinn. “I knew because you said something that Jullian once said to me. Your voices are almost identical.” She added forlornly, “Jullian’s lacks the sting.”

Lipsey scampered to Aislinn, looking at him strangely, feeling him with hesitant little paws. “You’re ... human?”

“Once. This hardly qualifies as humanity.” His voice grew harsh as he addressed Aubrey. “You accuse me of bitterness, but do you know what it’s like being unable to hold your own children, or even approach them without watching them flee in terror? You’re damn right I held onto the belief that he was safe, wouldn’t you?”

“I still do.”

“So, you’re a prince too?” Lipsey asked.

“Lips, I’m as much a prince as you are an elephant.”

“What’s an elephant?”

Aubrey fixed her hair into a ponytail with a ribbon she’d pulled off the dress. “I was too tired to change out of this last night, so forgive me for bailing on this most useful of conversations while I make myself presentable.”