A Thief of Nightshade (16 page)

Aubrey needed a moment to take in the revelation. “That’s how I crossed over, isn’t it, my grief over his death?

That’s why Jullian was so insistent that I read all of his books and remember them, so that I could picture Avalar should I ever need to. He must have feared this all along.”

A very fine line exists between our world and magic. When emotions are strong enough, they will carry a person over.

“I can’t imagine that he wouldn’t have,” Given said. “Get some sleep. We have a hard day ahead of us.”

“I’m so sorry.” Aubrey smiled sadly, truly regretful for what Given was going through on her behalf.

“Don’t be. At least this way I won’t have to respond to any of Aislinn’s cutting remarks; the physical pain takes my mind off how much more his words hurt. Please don’t tell him, I don’t want him to know about this. I would rather he just think I’m quiet.”

“Fair enough,” Aubrey said. “But before I go, I do have one question that begs to be asked.”

“What?”

“Nightshade is a drug in this world, in a different way than where I come from.

But, alcohol ... does it affect humans here?”

Given looked at her strangely. “In what way?”

Aubrey rolled her eyes. Given’s lack of response was answer enough. “Oh, I don’t know, say, in the same way nightshade affects humans here?”

Given laughed. “No, why would it?

The madame does have a particular liking for it. I assumed it was the taste.”

“No, it isn’t the taste,” she said. “Not unless you fancy the taste of gasoline.”

“Of what?” Given asked.

“Never mind. Goodnight.” Aubrey

couldn’t help but laugh as she made her way back to the fire.

Did you see me drink anything?

Aislinn turned around right after Given’s comment about Aubrey saving Jullian and the bit about seeing the darkness lifted from Avalar. He made it back to the campfire before Aubrey did, lying down where he’d been before she got up. Lipsey never noticed his departure and curled up against his belly as though he’d never left.

He closed his eyes and for a time he tried to sleep but he couldn’t get over the shock of what Given had done for Aubrey. It nagged at him. Why would a Shade care what happened to Aubrey save to gain favor in the eyes of the Queen by leading her into a trap? He almost believed that thought until a small voice in his head argued that were it so then Given would have hastened Aubrey’s death, not prolonged her life and she certainly wouldn’t

have

taken

on Aubrey’s

suffering.

Doesn’t matter, she’s a half-breed whore.

And still, nothing about Given’s sweet nature and gentle beauty offended him, which offended him most of all.

Images of Merrial arose unbidden followed by visions of his children and the one time he’d tried to get close to them. Merrial had looked right at him, had known who he was. With pain too raw to

bear and fear for both Jullian and Aubrey, he resigned himself to sleep despite the disquiet in his heart.

“We shouldn’t go this way,” Given said breathlessly.

Aubrey had urged her to save her strength, but Aislinn wasn’t listening to Given’s directions.

“Wicked

things

dwell

in

the

mountains. We must go another way.”

Aislinn turned around. “The Glass Mountains are the quickest way to the Valley of Neath. I thought you said you knew where the Winter Court was?”

Given leaned against a tree. “A safer path goes around the southern side of the mountains and to the northern part of the valley. Please believe me.”

Aubrey was really close to telling Aislinn what Given had done for her, but a sideways glance from Given changed her mind.

“No,” Aislinn barked. “Look, it’s not that I don’t believe you. I know that you think you know where you’re going. We just don’t have time for you to be wrong.”

Aubrey felt exhausted. Given had been right the night before—the pain was gone but her wounds were still there. She touched Aislinn to get his attention off Given. “Have you been there—the Winter Court?”

Lipsey answered for him. “No, he told me that he would never go there.

Didn’t you, Aislinn?”

Aislinn frowned. “Yeah, Lips, I sure did. And look at us now. No, I haven’t been there; a totally irrelevant fact because I still know where I’m going.”

They walked in silence for another hour, the trees of the forest having grown sickly looking and diseased. It made Aubrey nervous. Finally, Given tried again.

“So, Aislinn, should I assume you’re talented with those claws of yours?”

“Didn’t know you were interested,”

he smirked. “Sorry, you’re not really my type.”

Given

blushed,

unmistakably

embarrassed. She took a calculated breath. “Would Goblins suit you better?

Because we are heading right toward their keep at the base of the mountains. And you know that isn’t what I meant.”

“No, we aren’t. We’re going to a passage east of it. And in consideration of your former career, perhaps you shouldn’t word things so loosely.” He paused before

adding,

“Speaking

of

your

profession, if I paid you, would you stop talking?”

Given stopped walking, the pain in her eyes speaking volumes. She closed her eyes and chewed on her lower lip. “Your hatred blinds you, Aislinn. If you want to wallow in it, then by all means do so, but bear in mind who you bring with you and how your brother would respond to learning the manner with which you’ve regarded Aubrey’s safety.”

Aislinn didn’t seem to know what to say. He grumbled, then shook his head.

“What

a

lovely

speech;

touching,

sentimental, poetic and all that crap, but it doesn’t change that we are already going the right way. Follow your own path, Shade, if you don’t want to follow mine, but we aren’t discussing it anymore.” He turned without another word.

Given shook her head, apparently deciding that nothing more could be done to change his mind.

The woods continued to get worse, darker and deeper despite the time of day they were traveling. The air held a stench of rot and decay and though they had long since left the swamp, the air still had a moist, putrid feel to it that seemed to cover them like a layer of clothing.

Aubrey shuddered as they passed the remains of a tree that lay gnarled and dead on the ground, as though it were the corpse of a decaying animal.

For the first half of the day, Aislinn had looked confident, but the later it grew, the more worried his expression became.

Though he would never say it, Aubrey knew he had started to second-guess his decision.

Aubrey popped her ears, finally feeling the increase in altitude. “We’re getting close, aren’t we?”

Given

nodded

but

didn’t

say

anything; beyond worried, she looked positively terrified.

The hair on Lipsey’s back was standing on end, his tail bushed out. He clung to Aislinn’s fur. “Do Goblins eat squirrels?”

“No, Lips. Besides, we aren’t going to be running into any Goblins. Just relax.”

Given suddenly stopped walking.

“Sssh. Listen,” she whispered.

Aislinn and Aubrey both stopped, but the sound of snapping twigs and footsteps continued, sending a sickening wave of nausea through Aubrey.

Given’s eyes widened. “Don’t move.

You’ve no chance at all if you run.”

A wicked laugh started to their left and swelled as other voices joined it, rolling through the forest like a chorus of demons.

“What do we do?” Lipsey asked quietly.

Aislinn carefully rose on two legs.

“Lips, climb high into the trees. Get as far away from here as possible. We’ll find you again, I swear it.”

“No, Aislinn, I don’t—” he argued.

“Go!” Aislinn tore him off his shoulder and tossed him into the leaves.

Aubrey watched Lipsey disappear into the limbs high above them.

A peculiar mechanical sound reached Aubrey’s ears that she couldn’t quite discern until she felt the sting at her legs.

The rope jerked her off her feet and she fell face-first. She spit dirt out of her mouth and looked up to see Aislinn fighting a net that had been cast on top of him and Given just as a metallic rope found her legs as well.

She closed her eyes as the bizarre laughter closed in on them.

AUBREY SAT STARING OUT OF THE

WINDOW
, amazed at the amount of snow that was falling. The last time she’d seen snow in Georgia was 1993. She grimaced and pulled up her fleece pants to rub her leg.

“Cold weather never feels good on broken bones.” Jullian sat down beside her and took over, his hands larger and warmer than hers. He ran his finger down the scar after a few minutes, curiosity still killing him. She’d refused to tell him how she’d broken it.

She smiled and looked at the front yard. “I’ve never seen it snow like this here.”

“I’m not a huge fan of winter, but I’m glad to see you happy.”

She grinned wider. “I love snow.”

“I’m glad one of us does.”

It never ceased to amaze her how much his touch seemed to warm her all the way to her core. It left her feeling more generous with her emotions than usual. “It was a dare,” she said suddenly.

He stopped rubbing and looked up.

“I’m not going to tell you if you stop,” she laughed.

He

immediately

resumed

his

ministrations.

“One of my classmates dared me to sneak into the headmaster’s office and steal the keys to the kitchen.”

He stopped rubbing again. “Dare I ask if they fed you too little?”

“You stopped rubbing.”

He resumed, “Okay, so you were dared...”

“We weren’t fed too little by anyone’s standards, but the kitchen was where all the chocolate was kept, not to mention contraband that was collected throughout the year. Remember, I was ten.

Come to find out later, my upstanding classmate had a Walkman that was the object of this little adventure.” She paused, still not wanting to tell him out of sheer embarrassment. “So not wanting to back down on a dare, I snuck out of our dorm window and climbed across the roof to the tiny, ridiculously thin crossover to the building next to ours. The idea was to shimmy across it on my hands and knees to the other side. What we didn’t know, or rather what we didn’t bother to find out in advance, was that they had started to remove the crossover because the metal was corroding. It had been in place for decades and wasn’t safe.”

Jullian’s face grew tight, his brows furrowed. “Do I want to hear this?”

She shrugged. “You know the end result.”

“No, I have to hear it. What happened?”

She took a deep breath. “It looked a little like a ladder, two long solid pieces with smaller slats along the way. I was almost halfway across when the left side gave out. I grabbed tightly to the right and swung my weight over too far. I overcompensated and lost my hold. It was a very, very long way down.”

Jullian leaned down and kissed her leg. “You’re lucky that all you broke was your leg.”

“I guess. I certainly didn’t feel that way at the time, it hurt like hell. All I could think about was how angry Grant was going to be when he found out. And how my bone popping out of the skin was probably a really bad thing.”