Priestess Dreaming (An Otherworld Novel) (32 page)

I pulled my blanket around my shoulders and looked up at the cloud-covered sky. She was up there, my Lady, waiting for me. Too tired to resist, I leaned against Morio’s back, and closed my eyes.

*   *   *

I found myself walking out under the sky, the moon rounded and full. Bright overhead, she was singing to me. I gazed up at her, my heart swelling with love. She was my lady, my goddess, my all. She was my reason for living and from her I drew my power and strength.

As I looked around, the grassy field seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, and there were no mountains here. No trees. No place to hide. Reaching up toward her, I tried to touch the shimmering light, but she was too far away, and I could only hear her whispering.

As I turned, I realized I was waiting for the Hunt, but I wasn’t in my usual place where I leaped into the passing cavalcade. Which meant there was something to be learned here, first. Some lesson the Moon Mother had in store for me. Lucid dreaming, much like wandering the astral, usually led me to some piece of knowledge that I needed to hear.

I waited, and then, like a freight train rumbling, the world fell into shards.

As I watched, a horde of goblins and ogres came racing across the field toward me, waving their weapons and singing battle songs. To my left, men in robes were marching—wands and staves in their hands. And at their helm a bearded man that I recognized as Telazhar. The sorcerers were marching.

To my right, a legion of soldiers wearing the colors of Svartalfheim rallied to meet them. At their helm, was my cousin Shamas. We’d been in love when we were younger—long before I met Trillian—but his pride and our families had interfered. Marrying cousins was commonplace in Otherworld, but marrying a half-breed? Not so acceptable. He couldn’t bring himself to break tradition.

His jaw was set, a grim look on his face. Fear began to work its way into my heart. They were headed on a direct course to intercept the goblins. But there wasn’t a thing I could do. Once again, I turned to see, behind me, another army appear. The colors of Y’Elestrial flew high, and as the four armies approached the center, I floated up, to watch from above.

So this must be what Menolly feels when she hovers up to the ceiling,
I thought. And then, once again, my attention was riveted to the scene below. As the armies met, the soldiers began to fight and the blood was flying. Bodies fell, and in that moment, I found myself standing up on the astral, at the helm of the Moon Mother’s Hunt. She was there, with her silver bow and her gleaming eyes, and she handed me my yew staff.

I reluctantly accepted it. All of a sudden, I wasn’t dreaming—I
was
on the astral, in full physical form, and the moon was dazzling and brilliant, commanding me with her presence. We were above a real battlefield, and though I couldn’t recognize the exact land, I knew we were in Otherworld.

“My Lady, what is this?”

The Moon Mother leaned down to stroke my cheek. “The Hunt rides tonight. The Hunt rides where it is called. The Hunt rides under the shining moon but this evening, we face a dark duty. And you walk under the dark shadow, my sweet one. There is death on the battlefield and we have soldiers’ souls to gather tonight.”

Chilled now, I realized what we were about to do. The Wild Hunts—there were many, from many cultures—gathered up the soldiers who fell in battle. The Hunt called to it the animals and the beasts of the world, and the wild, feral witches who served the gods of the chase.

With a shriek, the Moon Mother leaped forward and I found myself racing in her wake. We dove through the moonbeams, and ran on the astral winds, mighty gusts blowing in our wake, storms rising from our footsteps.

“Run, my loves, run and gather. Catch them up—for the moon heralds a bloody harvest tonight!” The Moon Mother spiraled down toward the battle and we followed.

Soldiers were thick in the slaughter, blood streaming as they used knife and sword, arrow and bow, hammer and mace, spear and dagger to kill the enemy. Screams right and left led us to the fallen. The enemies—the goblins and ogres—were not our affair. We paid no attention to their dead, but swept past them.

A soldier lay in my path, his heart no longer beating. But his soul was there, looking confused. A wild hunger filled my heart as I laughed, throaty and deep, and swept past him, catching him up in my wake.

“Run with me! Come to the Hunt—you are chosen!” And he fell in, racing behind me, leaving his physical life behind.

We passed by more men, and as we did, I caught their souls in my snare. “The Moon Mother commands you—join the Hunt, valiant one.” As I touched each one, a single tap, they, too, joined the pack.

The Hunt stretched for miles—it was ever growing and had been since the very first night the Moon Mother had raced across the sky, calling to the dead. On most full moons, she ran for the love of it—she led the Hunt in a triumphant charge. But tonight, she was deadly serious. We were here to gather. Here to increase the pack. To sweep up the dead. We were the carrion of the skies, we were the vultures waiting for the fallen. We were fur and fang, flesh and bone, and gleaming magic.

And then, I saw who was next in line. He was standing next to his body, and looking confused as hell. And I skidded to a halt, the bloodlust high but my heart screaming,
“No!”

“No. No . . . please, no.”

But the Moon Mother urged me on. “This is what it means to be my priestess. This is what it means to serve the gods.”

I wanted to cry. My stomach knotted but the pressure to run, to touch, to call to the pack remained. I bit my lips as I stared at the soldier. He was a sorcerer, but he was on our side. And at that moment, he saw me and a smile formed on his lips.

“Camille . . . how did you get here? The fighting—you have to leave!”

“No . . . oh, no. Oh, Great Mother. I didn’t expect this. I didn’t want this to happen. Why did you come back here? Why didn’t you stay with us?” I wanted to smack him, to hurt him. But it was too late. He’d made his choice and I hadn’t been around to stop him. And damn it, Menolly hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. Furious at her, furious at Shamas, I stuttered out his name.

Shamas looked down and saw his body lying by his side. His face crumpled, slowly, and he hung his head. “I didn’t make it . . . did I?”

Tears choking my throat, I shook my head. “Why did you leave? Why did you go? You’re our cousin—we
needed
you.”

He let out a soft laugh. “No. You didn’t need me. Not really. Camille, you could never need me the way I needed you to. Not since our youth, when I was too stupid and too vain to stand up for us. And you don’t need me now. You love more than anyone I’ve ever known. You have more love in your heart than is good for a person.”

I was crying in earnest now. Shamas, our cousin, had returned to Otherworld, and now I knew the reason, even though Menolly hadn’t told me the truth. He’d still been in love with me, but it was too late. When we had a chance, he’d caved to family prejudice. He was full-blooded Fae, and I was half-blooded. And our father’s relatives hadn’t been able to accept it.

“Shamas . . .”

“It’s okay, Camille. Really, it is. I’ve made too many mistakes in my life. I caused too much pain, too much harm. I hurt you in so many ways. The truth is, I’m tired. I think I was just waiting around for something to happen. At least, here at the end, I did something worthwhile. My death means something here.”

The pull was too strong. I wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to take him home and put him in bed and tuck him in. But it was too late. It would forever be too late. I nodded as I reached out, shaking.

“I’ll tell Aunt Rythwar. I’ll tell her you died defending our lands.”

“Thanks. And Camille—remember me next Samhain? Don’t forget me. Please? Go and be happy. Defeat our enemies. Live free, in a way I never could.” He smiled, and the radiance of his love filled his face.

“Good night, sweet Shamas. When you reach the Land of the Silver Falls, tell my mother and father we miss them. On Samhain . . . forever . . . you’ll be in my heart.” Unable to say another word, I took hold of his wrist, and yanked him into the pack, and we were off again, running through the battlefields.

And there, I spent the night gathering the dead who fell in the face of our enemy. And all the while, Shamas ran by my side, never again saying another word to me. But he looked happy, and at peace.

Waking up was hard, made harder because I had to tell the others what had happened. At least, I had to tell Delilah and Morio—they were the only ones who would really care.

As we rolled up our blankets, I laid out what had happened. “I didn’t see Morgaine there, but she might have been. But . . . Shamas was there. He’s dead.”

Delilah let out a little cry.

“There were four armies,” I continued. “One from Svartalfheim. Shamas was part of their forces. Another was from Y’Elestrial. Together they fought goblin hordes, and Telazhar’s sorcerers. I have no idea how many there were. Thousands. And so many dead. We swept up the soldiers who could see us. Cousin Shamas . . . he said good-bye. He told me . . .” I couldn’t go on. I wanted to sink to my knees, wanted to cry. We’d lost our Father. We’d lost friends—Queen Asteria for one. We’d lost so many people. And now our cousin. A man I had once loved with all my heart.

Morio leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Remember who you are.”

His words were precisely what I needed to hear, especially with where we were and who our companions were. I wiped my eyes and looked up at Delilah. Her face was a mask of loss and vague anger, but she waited and I realized she was going to take her cue from me.

“We go on. We go home. We tell them what happened. There’s nothing we can do now, except remember that he tried to do something to make the world a better place.” Pushing my grief into a dark little corner until I had time and energy to face it, I wiped my nose again and pulled Morgaine aside to help her attend to her toilette before we headed out again, hungry and aching.

It was early dawn, and so far, we’d seen no other creatures. The storm must have been keeping them at bay because the isolation continued as we numbly slogged along the path and through the woodland. And then, before I realized it, we were at the portal.

I just about kissed Tanne when he pointed it out, I was so freaking glad to get the fuck out of there. The realm of the Elder Fae was wild and windswept and incredibly dangerous. By our accounts, we’d been gone since Saturday late afternoon, and if my counting was right, it was now Tuesday, around noon.

As we approached the portal, I turned to Myrddin. “Are you ready to see just what’s happened to the world in the millennia you’ve been asleep?”

He gave a short chuckle and nodded. “If I’m not, I can always come back here, I suppose. All right, Lady Camille. Lead on, and show me the wonders of your world.”

*   *   *

The yard never looked so much like paradise. The guards sprang into position, but seeing me, they relaxed but waited at attention until we’d all come through. All but Mordred and Arturo, that is. If they noticed the absence, they kept it to themselves, saluting Bran as he nodded to them. As leader of the Talamh Lonrach Oll Warriors, the guards—all from the sovereign nation—owed him their allegiance.

Delilah tucked her arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. “We’re home.”

I nodded, wishing I felt more excited. I was happy, but we’d had so many shocks and the trip had been harder than we thought it would. All I wanted was a warm bath and to sleep for days.

The kitchen door opened and Smoky and Shade burst out, down the steps. Shade swung Delilah into his arms, while Smoky grabbed me around the waist and kissed me deeply. Both of them stopped suddenly as Áine appeared, walking behind the Merlin. They stared at her, and she suddenly swirled up and around in what I could swear was a happy dance.

“Who is this?” Smoky asked softly.

“Her name is Áine and she’s under a curse. She can’t shift into human shape. She’s been stuck guarding Myrddin since the Fae Lords imprisoned him. Not so much of a fun time. We think she’s a baby.”

“Baby is relative. She is young, but not like a child per se. She’s younger than I am by far, but an adult as far as her human form goes. I’ve never met a blue-green mix.” He looked intrigued, as did Shade.

“Well, she’s Myrddin’s lover. Or, was, before they were sentenced to an eternity in that gods-forsaken cavern.” I let out a long sigh and turned to see how Morgaine was doing. She was still silent, staring at the sky as the rain poured down on her face. “We have another problem. Arturo woke up, remembered he was King Arthur, Mordred found out that Morgaine is actually his mother and that Arturo is a prick.”

Shade let out a disgruntled noise. “That figures. Delilah would manage to get involved in a Jerry Springer moment. So what happened to Arturo and Mordred?”

“Mordred killed Arturo in a frenzy, then he ran off when he realized what he’d done. We had to leave Arturo’s body there and, since we couldn’t find Mordred anywhere, we had to leave him behind, too. Morgaine is in bad shape. She hasn’t spoken since it happened and we can’t seem to bring her out of the fugue into which she’s retreated. We couldn’t get her to eat, either. And none of us have eaten in over twenty-four hours.” My stomach rumbled.

“Let’s get you inside. I don’t know if Áine will fit . . .” Smoky looked hesitantly at the dragon. “She’s small as dragons go, but . . .”

“But she’d probably knock over a buttload of things and piss off Hanna.” I turned to Myrddin. “I’m sorry, but Áine needs to stay outside. We can’t fit her in the house.”

He frowned, but nodded. “Let me speak to her. She can at least stretch and get some fresh air here. She’s been down in that cavern—that tomb—for so long that she’ll probably welcome the chance to fly.”

Smoky gave the High Priest a quick smile. “Let me talk to her.” He moved toward the dragon and whispered something to her. She squirmed, wriggling like a happy puppy. A twenty-foot-long, round-as-a-barrel happy puppy. But then, she shot up in the air and flew toward the woods.

When he returned, Smoky was laughing. “I told her Shade and I would come out later and go flying with her. And we’ll do whatever research we can to see if there’s a way to reverse the curse that she’s under.”

Myrddin let out a grateful sigh. “Thank you. I . . . it’s been so long for her, but a frozen moment in time for me. I remember watching them curse her and wanting nothing more than to destroy every last one of them, but there was nothing I could do. They’d bound me in a place where I could do no magic, and then . . . then they came for me and that was all I clearly remember until Camille and Morio woke me up.” He grinned. “I woke up to see a very interesting sight on top of the casket, that’s for sure.”

Smoky frowned but before he could ask, I moved us all inside.

Delilah and I took Morgaine up to my bedroom to change. We gently removed her clothing—she neither protested nor helped, just let us move her around like a rag doll.

After she was naked, I ran a warm lavender bath. The herb soothed and healed. Delilah guided her into the bathroom and, between the two of us, we managed to get her into the tub. I gently washed her back, and lathered up her hair. Her eyes were vacant, as if she’d packed up and left home.

As we cleaned her up, Morgaine’s body relaxed, but she still wasn’t talking and I had my doubts that she even knew we were actually there. It was beginning to feel eerie, like the lights were on but nobody was home inside. But when I thought about how long she’d been in love with Arthur, how long she’d taken care of him and how long she’d hidden her true relationship with her son, the fact that she was shell-shocked shouldn’t really come as a surprise. PTSD, plain and simple.

We guided her out of the tub, dried her off, and wrapped her in a bathrobe. Then, while I pulled out my blow-dryer and dried her hair, gently brushing it smooth, Delilah went downstairs to get the parlor ready. Morgaine needed to rest. Until we could return her to Talamh Lonrach Oll, we’d keep her in there. I braided her hair and then led her down to the living room.

Nerissa was there, surprising me since it was a weekday. But Delilah said, “I called her and asked her if she could come home to keep an eye on Morgaine while we bathe and change clothes and eat.”

Grateful, I turned over care of our cousin to our sister-in-law and then headed toward the stairs again, this time to take care of my own needs. The smell of grilling meat stopped me, though, and my stomach rumbled so loud that I blushed. Smoky, who was behind me, slapped me on the butt.

“Get up there, and I’ll bring you something to tide you over, woman.” He laughed and headed toward the kitchen.

Morio had already gone ahead and by the time I got upstairs, he’d taken a shower and was sprawled on the bed, just enjoying the feel of the mattress beneath his back. I started the water again, and added vanilla bubble bath, then went back to the bedroom to undress.

“I’m taking a bath. Wake me when the apocalypse is over, would you?” I grinned at him, tossing my underwear in the clothes hamper, followed by my skirt. Smoky entered the room, stopping to stare at my naked body. “Don’t even think it,” I cautioned him, waggling a finger his way. “Not till I’ve rested, eaten, and bathed. And not in that order.”

“You take all the fun out of ogling, woman.” But he handed me a protein bar and a glass of milk. “Eat before you bathe.”

I stared at the milk. “Who do you think I am, Delilah? I want caffeine.”

“Caffeine won’t sustain you. Now do as I say or I’ll spank you.” He meant it. Smoky had a real thing for spanking. Because he respected my safe word and would stop if I asked him to, I had no objections when he was in the mood. Besides, getting spanked by the
right
man could be a real turn-on.

I drank the milk in one long gulp, and carried the protein bar in with me to the bathroom, where the tub was full. Turning off the faucets, I dipped one toe in the hot water and winced. Almost too hot, but after a moment, I adapted, and then, inch by inch, I lowered myself into the tub. As I leaned back and let out a long sigh, my muscles briefly complained, and then shut the fuck up as the heat of the water began to work its way into the knots, undoing the tension.

The protein bar was chocolate and peanut butter and within three bites, I had gobbled it down. My stomach gurgled, complaining that there wasn’t more where that came from, and I willed it to be quiet as I languidly ran the washcloth over my skin. I was tired and chilled, but as I flashed back to the hours after I’d been rescued from the Northlands—from the ordeal Hyto had put me through—I stilled my complaints.
This?
Was uncomfortable.
That
had truly been hell.

Twenty minutes later, my stomach was raising hell and I finally hauled my ass out of the water and dried off. Most of the bubbles were gone, anyway. I dressed in a cozy knit skirt and top, and then dried my hair. After a five-minute makeup application, I finally felt almost back to myself.

Smoky and Morio had already headed downstairs. As I set foot on the first step, the house rumbled and began to shake. I grabbed hold of the banister, trying to prevent the quake from propelling me down the steps. As I managed to pull myself back up on the landing and crawl away from both railing and steps alike, the floor rolled again and a shriek announced Delilah, landing on her back at the foot of the steps leading down from the third floor to my suite of rooms.

“Kitten! Are you all right?” I gauged whether I could stand up, decided that the quaking was too strong, and crawled over to her.

She winced, but managed to sit up. “Yeah, I think so. Nothing broken that I can feel but I bruised my butt, that’s for sure. What’s going on?”

“Yvarr—it has to be Yvarr! And since I’m not being pulled into trance, I have a really bad feeling that this is far worse than last time.” Yvarr had been waking up. He’d been trying to break out of his astral prison. And now, I had the feeling he’d managed it.

Pictures began to fall off the walls, and we scrambled out of the way as a large framed painting of a bowl of fruit hit the floor, the frame splintering. One of our friends had painted it—I couldn’t remember who at the moment—but now it was a twisted mess.

“So much for that.” Delilah nervously glanced overhead, looking to see if there was anything that could fall on us. Luckily, the light fixtures were still firmly in place and there were no chandeliers up here to come crashing down.

“You know, given that we came through the siege on Elqaneve, I think we’ve weathered too much in the earthquake department. It’s time for something new,” I grumbled. “We don’t need any sentient storms here.”

The rumbling slowly ground to a halt.

She stared at me. “Don’t even joke. Not about that.”