Forgotten

by P. C. Cast; Kristin Cast

  “Och, my lady. Ye leave me speechless.” Denise curtsied and bowed as Neferet placed the necklace over her head so that it dropped heavily between her breasts to rest near her heart.

  “Now I would ask that the three of you wait and watch from there.” Neferet pointed a short way back on the beach.

  They moved away. Mrs. Muir and Noreen were still staring at their gifts, but wee Denise’s gaze was riveted on the vampyre.

  “Ready?” Neferet asked Lynette.

  “If you are—I am.”

  “Today truly begins my journey to a new future—a new eternity.”

  “I believe in you, my lady. I know you can do this.”

  Neferet squeezed her hand and then went to the edge of the loch and stopped just short of the water lapping her boots. She placed the lantern beside her. “Lynette, remain by my side, but take a step back. I do not want the sprites to focus on you.”

  Lynette moved back a step. Neferet turned and took the dagger from the tray and slid it carefully into the pocket of her slacks. Then she raised the tray above her head. As she spoke, her voice echoed eerily across the water like a restless ghost.

  “Sprites of air, fire, water, and earth! I, Neferet, summon you! My quest complete, I bear gifts and come to claim my reward! Appear to me one and all—come as promised, answer my call!” Neferet placed the tray on the loch. “Children, reveal yourselves and carry these gifts to them.”

  Tendrils manifested fully, writhing over one another in eagerness to obey their mother. They carried the tray of bread and honey and wine out onto the loch, leaving it to float on the surface.

  The night sizzled into life. Sprites lifted from the water to engulf the tray and pull it under. At the same time, hundreds of fey appeared. Dazzling in their infinite array of colors and shapes, they filled the night with their whispering voices as they flitted about erratically, not settling until Oak appeared in the middle of them. As before, she was larger and more humanoid than the others. She raised one slender hand and the sprites went silent.

  “Neferet, why is it that tonight we meet—

  though the death of your future you have yet to complete.”

  “I thought you would like to witness the end of my quest—the death of my future.”

  “That is true. It will amuse me to observe you.”

  “I killed Loren Blake and with him destroyed my past, and after doing so I understood how to rid myself of my old destiny—my old future—so that I may embrace the new. I do that now and ask that you and these special humans, in service to me, serve as my witnesses.” Neferet spread wide her arms. “From this night forth, I renounce my title of High Priestess of Nyx. I reject the service of the Goddess. I reject the Vampyre High Council. I no longer belong to any House of Night. From this night forth, I choose to take the path unblazed in this world—neither vampyre nor human and not yet divine, with a new destiny I will myself align. So I have spoken—and for eternity so mote it be!”

  Oak nodded her head, causing the maidenhair fern that cascaded around her shoulders to sway gracefully.

  “My test you have passed.

  So we shall do as you asked.

  Access to the isle from which

  all others are banned

  you now do command!”

  The sprite waved her hand and a narrow stretch of the loch below her solidified into a magickal bridge that led from the bank of the mainland directly to the Isle of Skye.

  Neferet did not move.

  “I appreciate your fidelity to your word. I hope that you will appreciate that my plans have changed, and it is entrance to a different place that I require.”

  “Our deal was made.

  The price was paid.

  Enter the isle or remain

  To us it is all the same.”

  “Then what if I say that the payment for my entrance to Skye is simply another gift to amuse, which means that for my new future I will pay a new price.”

  “This is highly unusual. We only accept payment for a task agreed upon.”

  Neferet knew that Oak’s shift from poetic singsong to regular speech signaled that the sprite was not in negotiation mode, but she steeled herself and continued.

  “I know that you brought Zoey Redbird here from another world.”

  The sprite’s sharp gaze narrowed on Neferet. “Know what you will. Answers only come with payment.”

  “I am aware of that, but you misunderstand. I do not want answers from you. I can discover them for myself. I only want you to open the door to her world and allow me entrance.”

  Neferet saw the flash of surprise that lit the sprite’s face and felt her first thrill of victory.

  “And I am willing to pay whatever new price you ask for that entrance.”

  “We have, indeed, allowed entrance to and from

  Other Worlds before

  but now we are bored and wish to do so no more.”

  Neferet took the sgian dubh from her pocket. She lifted her forearm and rested the blade against her skin.

  “I am no longer High Priestess. I have rejected my future to forge a new destiny. Have you ever had a blood sacrifice from someone who is no longer one thing and yet to become another?”

  Birdlike, Oak tilted her head.

  “You are a creature truly unique

  But a sip of blood is not enough payment for what you seek.”

  “Then name your price.”

  Oak’s long finger pointed at Lynette, who had been standing as silent as the stones around them watching the exchange between Neferet and the sprite.

  “To pass from world to world with the power we lend

  I demand the sacrifice of the life of your only true friend.”

  Neferet felt rather than saw Lynette’s body jolt in shock, and anger began to brew within her.

  “I should have mentioned this earlier. I apologize for my oversight. Dear Lynette must accompany me to the world that is a mirror of this one. She is not merely my only friend. She is my handmaid, and I cannot do without her. Choose another sacrifice and I will give it to you.”

  “Only the exchange of a life will do.

  Return when your need

  is more important than friendship to you.”

  “No. Lynette has been faithful and true. You want me to sacrifice her? That I will not do!” Neferet blazed with anger. “Let’s not play games like we’re gibbering fools. I want something. You require sacrifice. I know the rules. Stop this charade. Tell me the true price you demand to be paid.”

  There was a great and overwhelming silence, and then Oak began to laugh. It was a terrible sound picked up by the other sprites. From hundreds of fang-filled mouths, the eerie noise lifted and reverberated around them like a choir of competing specters.

  Neferet stood there without speaking, without reacting at all. Instead she waited with endless patience until Oak finally raised her hand, silencing the fey.

  “I have grown bored of the comings and goings

  between worlds—that I readily do say.

  But you—you deviate from the norm and pique my

  interest today.

  So I offer you one last chance.

  Let us stop this teasing dance.

  There is a single payment I will take.

  My patience is gone—make no mistake.

  A dear life sacrificed you need,

  So, for you, whom shall bleed and bleed and bleed?”

  Neferet wanted to explode with fury. How dare this creature demand anything of her! She was nothing but the reflection of the earth. Mundane. Ordinary. Most people didn’t even believe in the fey anymore and Neferet was giving the ungrateful bitch the opportunity to be important—to be of the world again, honored and respected and paid tribute to. It was ridiculous that she—

  “I will give my life as
payment fair, and do so freely out of love as if answering a prayer.”

  Neferet whirled to see that wee Denise was walking forward, her gaze riveted on the hovering sprite.

  “Wee Denise! No, I do not ask this of you.”

  Denise smiled as she reached Neferet. “It is because you widnae ask it that I do it. Go to the other world, my lady, my goddess. But dinnae forget your wee Denise and that she were faithful to you till her last breath and beyond.”

  Neferet took her face between her hands. “Wee Denise, you have the word of a goddess. Your name will be honored for eternity.” Neferet kissed her.

  Denise smiled. “It woulda been a bonnie thing to see—you returnin’ divine.” Then her gaze lifted to the sprite and she began to walk into the loch as she said, “But maybe I will see it—from wherever I’ll be.”

  Before wee Denise could walk to the sprites, Neferet caught her slim wrist, halting her. Neferet met Oak’s gaze and said firmly, “A payment this great means when we are ready to return we shall not wait.”

  Irritation crossed the sprite’s expressive face, but Neferet could see that greed and bloodlust superseded it.

  “I accept this payment dear.

  Fey! Bring her near.”

  “And when it is time for Lynette and me to return?” Neferet said, still holding on to Denise’s wrist.

  “When you wish to return use your own blood to call.

  I will respond when the scarlet drops fall.”

  “You must let me go now, my Goddess,” wee Denise said, smiling up at her.

  Neferet could not find the words to speak, so she simply lifted Denise’s hand to her lips so she could kiss her once more before she let her go. She had to force herself not to rush after the girl and pull her back onto the shore. She felt powerless as the glowing sprites surrounded Denise, lifting her out of the water and carrying her up to Oak as if she rode on a magick carpet made of light.

  “How interesting. From you I feel no fear,” Oak said to Denise.

  “Och, well, I’ve been leavin’ gifts for yer kind most my life. I cannot be afeared of somethin’ I find so dear.”

  “Your courage does you credit, wee Denise

  And now through death you shall find release!”

  The sprites descended on Denise. They covered her body so that even Neferet had to turn her eyes away because of the brightness. There was an explosion of light and then all of the sprites except Oak disappeared. Neferet blinked, trying hard to clear her sight—and she was surprised to see that one other sprite remained—a small water elemental only about the size of her fist. The little creature hovered above Neferet, looking like a large dragonfly with a woman’s torso from which dangled a long platinum chain that held an occluded sapphire set in diamonds.

  Beside her, Lynette gasped. “Denise?”

  “Aye, well, sorta!” Denise’s voice drifted down to them just before, with a little popping sound, she disappeared with the rest of the water fey.

  “Your price has been paid.

  I have opened the door.”

  Oak’s voice echoed around them as a glistening oval materialized directly in front of Neferet and the sprite faded from view. “Enter at your own risk, and begin the future for which you paid.”

  Neferet reached out and Lynette took her hand.

  “Are you ready, dear Lynette?”

  “Yes, but don’t let go of my hand.”

  Neferet gripped her friend’s hand tighter. “Never. Deep breath.”

  “Deep breath,” Lynette repeated.

  Together, the vampyre and the human entered the portal—forever altering their future and the futures of both worlds.

  With the sound of a giant’s sigh, the portal closed. The wind returned and the clouds continued to drift back to obscure the moon. One enormous cloud churned and billowed high and mighty. Two massive white horns took shape—followed by a huge head and the body of an impossibly large bull.

  From the darkening night sky a deep voice reverberated. “Ah, my heartless one, you have surprised me. Again.”

  The bull’s laughter quaked through the clouds, releasing torrents of freezing rain that blanketed the highlands of Scotland in the cold darkness of an evil amused but not yet satisfied.

  The End … for now

  Acknowledgments

  Kristin always is a wonderful editor and partner, but she deserves a special acknowledgment for her work on this book. Thank you, Ja! You heppa-ed, Mama. Love yousees!

  Thank you to our wonderful Blackstone Publishing team: Josh Stanton, Josie Woodbridge, Anne Fonteneau, Greg Boguslawski, Jeff Yamaguchi, and Lauren Maturo. Team Cast rocks! Special mention to Courtney Vatis for the fantastic brainstorming sessions and editorial eye! And an extra-special “OMGoddess you’re awesome” to Kathryn English who created this spectacular cover, which is our favorite of all the HoN and HoNOW covers!

  To my agent, Ginger Clark—thank you for helping me juggle an insane amount of work while I was finishing this book. Here’s to many, many more years together.

  Thank you to Teresa Miller and Theo LeGuin who led me to Ginger!

  Steven Salpeter—I appreciate you!

  A very special thank-you to my amazing assistant, Sabine Stangenberg. Thank you for making my world run smoothly so that I can disappear into my cave and write. I appreciate you so very much.

  Thiago Marques—thank you for the fast and accurate research help. I know I can always count on you! XXXOOO

  To our loyal, loving fans—we adore you. Please never forget: you are strong, beautiful, and worthy of love … always love.

  On Grief and Loss:

  First Steps

  There is a thematic element of grief and loss that runs through the plot of Forgotten. I found it interesting how the different characters in their different worlds dealt with survivor sadness and the sacrificial acts of others.

  To begin with, I love the words of Mother Earth early in the book when she and Kalona discussed despair and anger:

  “Yes, despair is more in your brother’s nature—anger is more in yours … You should know that both emotions are allies of Darkness. Both will eventually destroy Light if left unchecked.”

  It is vastly important that people, especially young people, understand that sadness and anger are often closely linked. Think about how you feel when you’re filled with sorrow. It’s like a weight pressing on your body, your soul, your mind. It’s debilitating and isolating. Now, consider how anger makes you feel. Find the subtle similarities: the heaviness, the powerlessness, the crippling way it can isolate you.

  Both emotions rob life of joy. They are soul-suckers and dream-stealers, destroyers of Light and love.

  But loss is part of the circle of life, and anger after loss is a normal reaction. Its numbing effect feels almost good. It shifts our focus from our internal grief so that we can shove it aside temporarily—but for some people that temporary compartmentalization turns into a lifetime of rage and misery, which is exactly what happened to our world’s Neferet.

  How do we not do that? How do we choose love and Light when rage and Darkness feel so seductive?

  I believe a big part of combating the lure of dark emotions is to step into the Light—and by that I mean to not allow ourselves to be isolated. Did our Neferet open up to anyone after she was brutalized? No, not truly. Instead she withdrew, and when she did, Darkness engulfed her and altered the course of her life.

  I understand Neferet’s choice. I’ve felt the pull of isolating despair. I have a good friend who told me once, during a time in my life when I experienced great loss and also was physically injured, that I “went dark.” And I did. Without even realizing it I withdrew from friends and family. It felt safer, easier, less painful to fold in on myself—much like what Other Kevin experienced after his loss of Other Aphrodite.

  Thankfully, my trib
e of friends and family refused to leave me in the Darkness. One particular friend, the intuition teacher and animal communicator Bridget Pilloud*, put me on a path out of my miserable isolation with a simple and beautiful exercise that I then shared with Grandma Redbird, who used it to help Other Kevin through his grief. Here it is, in easy steps. It is something you can do alone—or something you can guide someone through. I’ve found that it works particularly well if you’re outside—especially if you have access to wooded land.

  Bring with you matches and a smudge stick (I prefer white sage, but there are many different versions of smudge sticks and herbs that can be used: sage, lavender, sweetgrass, Palo Santo, etc.).

  Light your smudge stick, and as you smudge yourself, concentrate on the cause of your grief. Speak aloud the name of the person or animal or aspect of your life that you have lost (ex: if you have had to relocate and are deeply grieving the loss of your home). Allow yourself to grieve! Just as names are powerful, tears are cleansing—something especially important for young men to know in a society that tells them it isn’t manly to show their emotions. But Grandma Redbird said it much better than I:“No, my sweet boy. Do not hide your grief. There is no shame in showing your tears. Kevin, being a man means claiming all your power. Strength without honest emotion is toxic—to yourself, and eventually it makes you toxic to others. How can you truly love without showing sadness, acknowledging loss, dealing openly with despair?”

  We see this every day in a patriarchal society that has raised so many men who are utterly out of touch with their emotions and toxic to themselves and others. Mothers, grandmothers, and sisters—let us all do better raising our male children.