Night's End (11 page)

“That's precisely why the Crimson Queen questions your ability as Regent,” Regina said, walking behind him. She stopped to cuff him lightly on the head. He snarled at her, showing his fangs, and she laughed. I had the feeling this was foreplay between them.

“Then she should choose someone better for the job. I never once expressed an interest in wearing this hat. I much prefer my job as professor at the New Forest Conservatory.” He arched one eyebrow at me. “All those lovely young coeds, both magic-born and vampire. But none, none can hold a candle to the Queen of Ice.”

Grieve stiffened. I could feel his reaction through my wolf, but he said nothing. Truth was Lannan was to thank for me still being alive, and we both knew and accepted the ugly truth. We owed the vampire a favor, and Lannan knew it as well.

“Back to the subject at hand. When can we go? And Kaylin doesn't have a clue about this. We didn't dare take a chance, just in case—”

“Just in case the night-veil demon is your spy. Of course.” Regina motioned to Lannan. “You will summon the man. Leave the others where they are and make certain they are protected.”

“As you wish.” Lannan slipped out of the room, softly shutting the door behind him.

Regina followed him out the door with her gaze, then brought her attention back to us. “Rhiannon, you and both consorts will remain here. Cicely and I will take Kaylin to the Blood Oracle. Check, you may come as your Queen's guard, but you will obey
me
. Do you understand? If I say jump, you jump. If I say drop down on the floor—”

“I will drop. Yes, Emissary.” Check snapped to attention, clicking his heels together smartly as he straightened his shoulders.

The fact that Regina addressed neither of us by our title didn't bother me, and I knew it didn't irk Rhiannon, either. Regina had known us both before our coronations, and somehow, rebuking the Emissary to the Crimson Court for overlooking a few words would just be borrowing trouble. There was no disrespect in her voice, and I doubted any was meant.

As she finished speaking, Lannan reentered the room, Kaylin in tow. I caught my breath, wondering how the fuck we were going to explain what was about to happen. We couldn't just drag him along with us and then throw him to the wolves, so to speak.

Regina took care of that problem. She motioned for Kaylin to take his place in front of her. “Kaylin, I'm afraid we have a problem.”

He looked at her, a quizzical expression on his face. “Have I done something to offend you?” While a faint smile played on his face, a feral light flickered in his eyes. With his demon fully emerged, Kaylin had turned into a highly dangerous adversary, though there was no way to know just how powerful he would become as he evolved.

The Emissary shook her head. “No, you haven't. I think, perhaps, the best tactic to take is the truth. Cicely, you do owe him an explanation, considering what we are about to undertake.”

I dreaded the thought, but she was right. How could I ask him to undergo Crawl's scrutiny without knowing why? And if he was the spy, and tried to bolt now, then we'd be able to stop him. But . . .

“What if there's a mind link?” I asked Regina. “What if . . . what I fear turns out to be true and there's a link there?”

“Good point. That, however, we can solve simply enough.” She took hold of Kaylin's arm. “Check, Cicely, follow us.”

Kaylin, looking confused now, allowed Regina to lead him over to the bookshelf. Check followed close behind, ready to stop him should he try to turn on us. If Kaylin
was
the spy, he either didn't suspect anything or was furiously plotting what might happen next.

Lannan pressed a book on the bookshelf behind the desk. A secret door slid open to reveal a passageway lit by a dim light. We passed into a room where a table sat in the center, and a single bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminated the space. On the table—which was shaped like an octagon—a crystal hovered above a two-inch-thick crimson block of glass.

As soon as the door slid closed behind us, Regina let go of Kaylin and motioned for us to gather around the table. Still looking bewildered, Kaylin did as asked. Check stood next to him on one side, Regina on the other. I stood opposite him.

“Here, you may tell him. We are between worlds now, and I doubt if any message could reach through the veils.” She nodded at me.

“Tell me what?” Kaylin was beginning to look worried.

“Kaylin, I'm so sorry. But we have . . . I have . . .” I paused, uncertain how to verbalize my thoughts, but then they spilled out of their own accord. “I have to do something that's going to be horrible. I have no choice.” In a flood of words, I told him what we were doing and why.

The expression on his face passed from angry to incredulous, and then—resigned. “I understand.”

I didn't want to look into his eyes, to see the betrayal that had to be lurking there, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. I owed him that much.

To my surprise, Kaylin seemed calm and collected. “I understand,” he repeated. “You have a spy in your Court; you must find out who it is. Your shamans can't perform their rituals on us, so—”

“This is the only way,” I finished.

“We are so far past being able to trust anyone's word. Look at what Anadey did. To you. To Peyton, her own daughter.”

And then I realized that he really
did
understand, and that almost made me feel worse. I would have felt better if he'd yelled or screamed or cussed me out. But instead, he stood there stoically, and it made me almost want to say, “Forget it, I trust you.” But I couldn't take the chance.

“Yes . . . so, when Crawl verifies you are what I believe you to be—a trustworthy friend—then we will have you examine Peyton, Luna, and Ysandra. I know how you feel about Luna, but . . .”

Kaylin had fallen hard for the bard, and I knew it wasn't going to be an easy thing for him to delve into her mind. And I knew what he saw there might not sit well. Luna cared for him, but she was wary—not willing to dive off the cliff, romantic though she might seem to be.

Kaylin made no move to try to escape. Instead, he turned to Regina. “Tell me what to do. I will listen. I've no desire to have Crawl any closer to me than need be, so let's get this over with.”

And with that Regina traced some sort of symbol over the crystal then said, “Hold hands.” She took Kaylin's hand in her right, mine in her left. Kaylin reached for Check, and I completed the circle by holding my guard's hand. As the world began to spin, twirling like a Tilt-a-Whirl, everything fell away, and a rush of wind swept us into the churning slipstream of time.

Time went whistling past, the centuries turning back—or perhaps we were moving sideways, hopping realities as the creak of trees echoed in the howl around us, and the scent of smoke from burning wood swirled to surround us. A shadow of spiders crept past, on tiptoe, and I wanted to whimper. Then a flurry as a murder of crows rose up and vanished through the turbulent currents.

We traveled between worlds, through portals in a way unlike the Twin Oaks and the Twin Hollies. Those portals shifted us, body and soul, through a crackle of electricity. This vortex swept us up and cast us to the raging winds, letting them buffet us against the jutting rocks of the static-filled ocean, bruising our psyches until—with one final howl—the winds dropped and we were standing in a gigantic chamber, dimly lit and echoing with every sound, every breath.

We were around a table identical to the one in the secret room back at the mansion. I slowly turned, all too aware of where I was.

Regina waved us toward her. “Follow me and do not step off the path or you will not live long enough to regret it. When we come to Crawl, do not speak directly to him. Do not answer him. Answer me if he asks you a question, and let me take the lead. Do you understand?”

Kaylin and Check both nodded. I already knew the drill. We set off, behind Regina, following single file. Kaylin walked behind her, then me, then Check.

Thirty feet high, the ceilings loomed overhead, painted to mimic stained glass, with portraits of battle and sex, a glorious beatitude in vivid color to the art and consequence of war. Below the ceiling, a rich, crimson wallpaper covered the chamber, and the light source remained hidden, but dim light flickered through the room. Marble benches lined the walls, their feet lost in a heavy mist that wisped along the floor in scattered strands.

The floor was, as I remembered it, a grid of magical symbols. A narrow pathway led through the etched tiles. Tuscan gold in the center with thick black border lines, each of the blank panels was a safe place to step. I remembered enough to know the magical runes engraved on the rest were to destroy the unwary. Setting foot off the path was painting a bull's-eye on your forehead.

As we neared the front of the chamber, my heart leaped into my throat. There, a dais ran the width of the room, about five feet high. Regina lithely jumped up onto the platform and took a look around. Then she turned back and motioned for Kaylin to join her. He scrambled up as Regina offered me a hand. Check simultaneously hopped up to join us.

I quickly glanced around, on high alert. And there, about ten feet away, crouched Crawl, the vampire of my nightmares.

Twisted and bent in a low squat, Crawl was near a cushioned seat, but he ignored it as he sniffed the air. He was an insect, a walking stick, with skin that had been blackened and crisped. His face was wet with rivulets of blood. Viscous and sticky, they trickled down his jowls. A swollen tongue snaked out from his mouth, hideously long, to flick at the droplets as they neared his chin. His eyes were black as night—vampire's eyes, yes, but the lids had long ago been burned away, and his gaze was hollow.

Yet I had the feeling he could see through me to my insides, see my bones and blood and muscle and sinew. When I'd first encountered him, he'd had clumps of matted hair, but now his head was smooth, and that made him look even more alien.

I glanced to the left, and yes, there was the fountain I remembered. It bubbled brightly with blood, echoing with the merry sound of splashing. A circle of flames surrounded the font, and it was from here that Crawl drank, forever burning himself to reach the sweet blood he craved. It seemed terribly sadistic of the vampires—to punish their oracle by making his food so painful to reach—but the ways of the Crimson Court eluded me, even though I was beginning to understand the need for authority to bear a certain ruthlessness . . . even cruelty at times.

Crawl let out a slow hiss and leaped toward me, but then, as I stumbled back, he stopped short. It was then that I saw the iron chain around his neck. It blended in with his skin, and it gave him a certain amount of leeway while keeping him at bay. He could reach his fountain, and his cushioned seat, which was large enough to sleep on, but he could not reach me.

He let out a garbled shout as rage and disappointment filled his face, but it passed as quickly as it had come. “Regina, Regina. My wayward child and lovely daughter of the vein. Your brother is forbidden in my presence, you know.”

“This is known and accepted. Lannan is not with me. I come seeking information. I bring you sweet offering in return for your sight. This matter concerns the Vampire Nation . . . the Crimson Court, in a peripheral manner.” She slid a narrow dagger out from a sheath hidden at her ankle.

“The only offering the Blood Oracle accepts from you is the sweet blood of Cicely. Such a sweet, warm taste. I would have it from her neck.” He licked his lips, looking at me. I turned, trying to avoid his gaze.

Regina cleared her throat. “The Blood Oracle remembers what the Crimson Queen has decreed, does he not? For escaping from your prison, you may not press lips against flesh. I will give you her blood, but in the offering font, and only with your promise to read the omens and seek the answers.”

I stole a glance at Kaylin. He had never encountered Crawl—not up close. Kaylin had been wounded during the last battle and had not been there to see the Blood Oracle attack me. But he'd witnessed the aftermath in my scars.

He was staring at Crawl with a revulsion that I seldom witnessed on his face. After all, he was connected to the Bat People through his demon, and they were an odd race in themselves, alien and terrifying. But Kaylin grimaced as Crawl leered at me, licking his lips again.

“The Queen in her madness gives me no quarter, does she now, my dear daughter? You pain your father thus. . . . But you must do what you must. I will accept the pittance and be satisfied with that.” The sad, puppy-dog voice sounded contrived, a spider spinning a web. Crawl's only pain was that he wasn't allowed to rip me to pieces in a feeding frenzy.

Regina stared at him for a moment, then in a rare show of temper, blurted out, “Old Father, do not push me. I may carry your blood within my veins, you may be my sire, but I will not stand for this. We are facing dangers that could lead to the downfall of all, including the Crimson Court. Your personal whims and desires? They are nothing in the face of she who seeks our demise.”