I gasped. But I clenched my teeth tightly before the pain tore a scream from my throat. I would not scream.
The Reaper cut further, carving symbols into my skin. In the mirror, all I could see was his robed back. I didn’t know what the symbols were; all I knew was how much I hurt.
“Enough.” Myrddin put a hand on the Reaper’s arm. “That will do. This one is different.”
A high-pitched whine issued from the Reaper’s hood. The sickle sliced toward my throat.
Myrddin’s hand stopped its descent. A few muttered words from the wizard, and the Reaper was lifted from his feet. Two seconds later, a grunt and cry sounded as he hit a wall.
“Keep him back,” Myrddin said. “What? No, I don’t need the jar. Didn’t you hear me? This one is different.” Working quickly and silently, he picked up a length of tubing and fitted it with a long, thin, wicked-looking needle. Then he moved between me and Pryce, and I couldn’t see what he was doing. The mirror showed my chest as a mass of blood—so much blood I couldn’t make out whatever patterns the Reaper had sliced into me. Myrddin turned back to me, needle in hand. The tubing trailed behind, somehow connected to Pryce. Myrddin used the needle to trace the symbols the Reaper had carved into my flesh. I felt every inch. He paused directly over my heart.
“The heart,” Myrddin said, “is the center of a person’s life force.” He pushed. The pain sharpened. No, he couldn’t be—but he was. He didn’t stop. The needle slid into my heart and stayed there. My heartbeat went crazy, the muscle trying to push out the invader. “When the heart stops, so does life. Of course, I don’t want you to die at once, so I’ve spelled the probe to minimize its physical damage. What we’re going for here is the slow, painful draining of every last ounce of your life force.”
It hurt. God, how it hurt. Like nothing I’d ever felt before. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I gritted my teeth against my agony. I would not scream. I would not think about the needle thrust deep into my heart.
“Like the blood,” Myrddin continued, “the life force circulates through the body. Chi, prana, élan vital—call it what you will. Every culture expresses the concept in some form. Now, these acupuncture needles”—he showed me a handful of fine needles with colored ends—“will be inserted at strategic points to slow down the flow of your life force. A sort of reverse acupuncture, if you will.” He stuck a needle in my arm, another above my eyebrow. “The aim being, of course, to drag your life force from you. I want you to feel the wrench of that chi leaving every cell of your body.”
He kept going, turning me into a pincushion. If I’d thought I hurt before, I didn’t even know what pain was. Each needle magnified the agony, spread it throughout my body. It felt like my soul was being slowly pulled out by the roots.
“Now.” Myrddin slapped my cheek to make me look at him. He showed me two thin tubes, each split into a Y shape with a needle at the branch of each Y. “They say, I believe, that the eyes are the windows to the soul. And since you’re donating your soul to my son, that will be the final touch.”
Oh, God. Not my eyes. My heart thumped wildly around the invading probe. I snapped my eyes shut, but his fingers forced the right lid open. I strained at the straps that held me immobile. I rolled my eyes in crazy, random directions.
And I screamed. I screamed and screamed because there was no other way to express the pain and horror.
“Hold still, damn it all!” Myrddin shouted. “I’d prefer not to blind you.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have cared. Maybe blindness would have been a mercy. But even now, some deep, primal part of me recoiled at the thought of losing my sight. I stopped screaming, stopped rolling my eyes. I lay still and watched the first needle descend.
Something clattered to the floor.
Myrddin froze. He took his hand from my eye, put down the needle, and bent toward the floor.
“Where did you get this?” he asked sharply. “You didn’t have it when they brought you here.”
I was shaking so badly that I couldn’t focus on the object he held in front of my face.
“This bloodstone!” he shouted. “How did it come to be in your hand?”
If I could have had one wish right then, it would have been the freedom to turn my head away from him. I said nothing.
Pain coursed through me with each heartbeat.
Myrddin swore. His footsteps crossed the room. The door opened. “Battle positions!” he shouted.
Seconds later, he was back at my table. He yanked the probe from my heart. I groaned. It felt like he’d pulled the heart from my body with it. “We’ll have to finish this later,” he said, ripping needles from my flesh. Something cool passed over my chest, stinging my skin. Myrddin tossed a bloodsoaked cloth aside, then refastened the front of my gown. “I must get you out of here before Mab arrives.” He cackled, and an ugly light shone in his eyes. “Perhaps Mab herself will be number four—or five! Yes, five. What a pleasure that would be, for her to see my son open his eyes to the world just as hers close forever. A pleasure for me, that is, not for that bitch.”
He turned toward Pryce and I couldn’t see what he was doing, then he stood between us, coiling the tube whose needle had pierced my heart. The tube, spattered with blood, glowed with a silvery light.
The pain receded, leaving me weak and light-headed. My ears buzzed. Myrddin’s movements, as I watched him in the overhead mirror, were slow and fluid, like in an underwater ballet.
“I need attendants,” Myrddin muttered. “Where the devil did Colwyn go?”
He stalked back toward the door. “Colwyn, whe—” The word ended in a grunt as the door banged open and Kane called my name.
Kane? Here? How had he found me? This had to be a hallucination, my dying mind conjuring up comforting images where everything could still be all right. Where escape and rescue were possible.
Kane’s face hovered over mine. His gray eyes burned with fury and concern and something else.
“Are you real?” My voice came out in a croak.
The brush of his lips on mine felt real.
A commotion burst out near the door. Kane looked up, scowled, raised a pistol. He fired. Then something knocked him backward and I couldn’t see him anymore.
A blast—gunshot? energy?—broke the mirror over my head. I closed my eyes as shards rained down, nicking and slicing my skin.
“Hello, Mab.” Myrddin’s voice sounded thick. Was he hurting? “Funny name you’ve chosen for yourself this time around.”
“Myrddin Wyllt, you will not harm my niece.” Mab sounded strong, certain. Now I knew I was hallucinating, because my aunt was two thousand miles away. Yet I felt a certain peace. I was glad my life was ending this way, in a fantasy of my aunt stepping in to protect me. And Kane. I always knew he’d come for me if he could. Still, I wished it had been real. His lips had felt so nice, so warm.
Where was Kane? If I was hallucinating, I wanted to imagine him beside me.
Fighting noises erupted from the other side of the room. It didn’t sound like a sword fight. More like they were throwing bombs at each other. Energy blasted out again and again. Then Myrddin’s cackle rang out. “Colwyn, you lazy corpse. It’s about time you—”
A furious snarl chilled me down to my fingertips. It was a primal, animal sound. Had Mab shifted to fight the Old Ones? Maybe I could help her. I concentrated, again summoning the grizzly bear image. But I couldn’t gather the energy. I was too weak.
This was my hallucination, damn it. You’d think it would let me escape from the straps that held me down. Then I could at least imagine my death as an honorable one, fighting beside my aunt.
Shouts. Snarls. Running footsteps. Cursing. The thud and grunt of impact. More shouts—Mab’s voice among them. “Get Pryce!” she shouted. “Kill him!” So she hadn’t shifted. Yet the sounds of an attacking animal cut through the chaos. Something slammed into the table beside mine, shaking it. “No!” Myrddin shouted. A yelp of pain.
A slap stung my cheek a
nd I opened my eyes. Myrddin stood over me. Blood smeared one side of his face and matted his hair. He was panting, slumped over. “Another time, my girl,” he said to me, and winked. Then he disappeared.
“Victory, child, are you all right?” Mab’s face appeared above me. Not huge and transparent, as she’d been in my dreamscape, but real flesh. Worry lines sharpened her gaze as her eyes roved over my face. She brushed glass off me. Her fingers loosened the strap across my forehead. She flung it aside and smoothed a warm hand over my icy skin.
I lifted my head, just because I could. The empty room looked like a battle zone. Scorch marks blackened the walls. Chairs and tables were scattered around like discarded toys. Something smoldered in a corner. I looked to my right. The table that had been next to me, the one that held Pryce, was gone.
Mab had unbuckled the strap across my chest and was working on the one that secured my right wrist. I was still shaking, and dizziness made the room spin. Weak, I let my head fall back.
“Myrddin has gone into the demon plane and taken Pryce with him,” Mab said. “He knows I won’t follow him there, not with you like this.” She paused and laid her cheek against my forehead. I could feel her trembling. “Oh, Vicky, are you all right?”
“I . . . I can’t stop shivering.” I felt like I’d never be warm again. Mab put both her hands on my face, and I soaked in their warmth. “I thought I was hallucinating. Am I?”
She went back to work, unfastening the strap. She picked up my hand, bending the elbow and massaging my skin. “No, child. This is real. I’m really here. After you’re safe and rested, I’ll explain all.”
“But I thought Kane was here, too.”
“And so he was.”
Was? I struggled to sit up through the nausea and dizziness. I snatched away my free hand and pulled at the strap across my waist. “‘Was,’ Mab? Where is he?”
She smiled grimly as she unbuckled the waist strap. “The last I saw, he was in the hallway, making some Old Ones run in a most undignified manner.” She tilted her head, listening. “I believe he’s coming back. Here, child, you can sit up. I’ll help you. Gently, now.”
She got her arms around me and lifted. The room tilted, and I grabbed at her to keep from falling. I closed my eyes, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
Someone touched my leg, and I breathed in the scent of moonlit pine forest. Kane. His scent calmed me. I opened my eyes to see his gray ones.
In the face of a massive wolf.
Kane was in wolf form.
Mab gripped my shoulders. I looked at her, confused. The full moon was weeks away. “How long have I been here? Is the moon—?”
She shook her head. “Waning gibbous. Myrddin had you only for a few hours.”
“So how . . . ?” Kane nuzzled my neck. I leaned into him and stroked his fur. It was thick and coarse, but soft. He didn’t smell like a wolf. He smelled like Kane.
“Myrddin did it. He has some power over animals,” Mab said, but didn’t elaborate. “Most likely Mr. Kane’s human form will return with the dawn.”
Most likely. I didn’t like the sound of that. But I put my arms around Kane’s neck and buried my face in his warm ruff. He’d come for me. That was all that mattered. Whatever else we had to face, we’d face it together.
14
I SAT ON A DOUBLE BED, MY BACK PROPPED UP BY PILLOWS and my legs stretched out. The hard, lumpy mattress was uncomfortable, but it beat my previous resting place in Myrddin’s guest room. I felt weak and tired, and every cell in my body ached. Mab sat in a chair beside the bed, holding my hand in both of hers. Kane lay on the bed beside me, his long wolf body pressed close against my leg. My hand rested on his shoulder, fingers burrowing into his warm fur. We were in a run-down motel somewhere north of the airport.
I was a little fuzzy on how we’d arrived here. I’d been too weak to walk—an attempt to stand up had made me faint. Flashes of scenes jumbled together in my mind. Being carried past white cinder-block walls and up a long staircase. Passing through a doorway into cool air that smelled of exhaust and wet cement. Darkness. Some kind of construction site. Mab buckling a seatbelt across me as she settled me into a car. Leather seats. I thought it was Kane’s BMW, but I don’t know who drove. Not Kane, who was lying across the backseat. I didn’t think Mab knew how—Jenkins did duty as her chauffeur in Wales—but I sure as hell hadn’t been in the driver’s seat. As soon as the car door had closed, I’d slumped against it, dozing off and on as we moved through the streets of Boston.
Now, I smoothed the thin, stiff comforter over my legs. It was the cheapest kind, a hideous orange-and-brown floral print, pocked by cigarette burns.
“Are you still cold?” Mab asked, leaning forward.
“Not as much.” I’d stopped shivering, at least. Mab pulled the comforter off the other bed and draped it around my shoulders. I probably looked like a pile of dead leaves.
“Warmth will return as your life force regenerates.”
“That will happen?”
“It’s happening already. I just thank all the heavens we reached you in time.”
“How? How did you reach me at all? Where was I?”
“You were being held in an underground facility beneath a construction site. Stanhope was the name of the street, I believe.”
I stared at her. It still seemed unreal that she was here. “But you were in Wales, right, when I called you on the dream phone?”
“Yes. I was trying to bring you there through your dream, remember? I thought the best strategy was to remove you physically from Myrddin’s grasp.”
“I didn’t make it through the collective unconscious. A form almost absorbed me.” I rubbed at my arm where the blob had touched me. “I woke up to get away from it.”
“I was afraid something like that would happen. So I made a contingency plan. Always—”
“—have a contingency plan,” I chimed in. She’d only told me that a million times over the years. We both smiled.
“As soon as you woke up,” she said, “I could feel you’d left the dream realms. If you couldn’t make your way to me, I’d come to you. That was the contingency plan.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“Jenkins called Mr. Kane—”
“Wait. You put in a phone at Maenllyd?” For my whole life, my aunt had refused to modernize her old stone manor house: no phone, no TV, no Internet. I always felt kind of lucky she’d allowed plumbing and central heating.
“At my house? No, of course not. Jenkins drove me to the pub. He went inside and called Mr. Kane, letting him know you were in danger and asking him to stand by. When he came back out to let me know he’d made the call, I attempted to contact your sister through her dreams.”
Okay, if I hadn’t been hallucinating before, I definitely was now. “You talked to Gwen on the dream phone?” That was even more remarkable than Mab’s sudden appearance in Boston. Kind of on a par with an ice storm in hell or pigs taking to the skies.
“No, I did not. She wouldn’t respond. I brought up her colors again and again. I tinged them with urgency. She ignored me.”
“It’s been years since Gwen used the dream phone. Maybe she’s forgotten how.”
Mab’s brow creased in a frown. “There is no forgetting. Although she gave up her shapeshifting ability, she’s still Cerddorion. She could have answered had she chosen to. So . . .” Mab paused, watching my face. “I contacted Maria.”
“Wait, Maria? On the dream phone?” I didn’t think my niece even knew what that was. The dream phone was part of the fun side of being Cerddorion—not the sort of information Gwen would volunteer.
“She’s an impressive child. Brave and kind. She’ll make a fine Cerddorion woman when she comes of age.”
So Mab believed Maria was on her way to becoming a shapeshifter. Gwen would have a fit—right after she finished having a fit about the fact that Mab had contacted Maria behind her back.
“The child answered at once,” Mab continued. “As
I said, impressive. Apparently no one had ever explained our method of communication to her.” She cocked an eyebrow at me.
I raised both hands. “Not my job, Mab. I can’t interfere with how my sister raises her kids.”
“Hm. We shall discuss that later. At any rate, Maria caught on quickly, and she allowed me to enter her dreamscape. I asked her to think of a place she knew in Boston, a place she could picture clearly. She chose the aquarium. While she imagined the spot, I roused myself enough to tell Jenkins the location. He communicated it to Mr. Kane. When I returned to Maria, she’d done a magnificent job of building a replica of the New England Aquarium in her dreamscape. I crossed through the collective unconscious and into Maria’s dreamscape.” Crossed through. Somehow it didn’t surprise me in the least that Mab had made it through that awful place as easily as strolling down a Welsh lane. “From there, I stepped into the aquarium’s courtyard, but not before I took a moment to erase the dream-phone call from Maria’s mind.”
Good. Maria was having a hard enough time lately. I didn’t want her to be traumatized by yet more dreams she couldn’t understand.
“At the aquarium,” Mab continued, “Mr. Kane was waiting for me.”
Kane shifted position to put his head on my leg and stared at me. Even though I came from a long line of shapeshifters, it felt strange to see those familiar eyes peering from an animal face. I stroked his head.
“Okay, so you got to Boston the same way I tried to get to Wales. But how did you find me once you were here?”
“This.” She pulled a pendant from inside her shirt, just as she had in our dream-phone call. It was the same one she’d worn then. “My bloodstone. I always know where it is. So you see, I couldn’t simply call Mr. Kane and tell him where you were, but I could follow the pull of the bloodstone myself. It led us straight to you.”
“You got it back.” The last time I’d seen the bloodstone, it was in Myrddin’s hand.
“Yes, Myrddin dropped it during the fight.” She tucked the pendant away again. “But to tell the events as they happened: When we reached the construction site, we had little trouble getting inside. Mr. Kane had come prepared to fight the Old Ones. He brought a pistol loaded with silver bullets.”
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