The instant he lost his weapon, something lunged at him from the dark room. He felt the weight of it strike him and drive him back into the wall. He grabbed at the figure, cloaked and snapping at his face with yellowed, stinking teeth. He shoved it away. The thing was actually very light, skeletal even, like an emaciated person. It scurried away, tucking itself into a shadowy corner of the room.
Sebastian touched his lip and his fingers came away wet. He could taste coppery blood and he wiped it away. Bending down, he picked up the knife and moved into the room slowly, not shifting his eyes from the creature. It looked up at him, the cloak falling away from its face, and he realized he was staring at an old man. The bones of his face jutted through translucent skin.
The man's eyes, once green, looked yellow and bloodshot. They shifted from Sebastian to the doorway beyond him and his eyes bulged. He snarled, pulling his thin lips away from his teeth, and tried to back farther into the corner.
Sebastian saw a inky phantom out of the corner of his eye. He spun around, knife raised, but the black enveloped him. He vanished into the darkness.
Chapter 10
"The book that Dafne retrieved from the L'Osbcurite. I know where it is," Faustine told Elda later that evening when he retired to their room.
"You do?" she sat up in bed and set her book about magic in the Middle Ages on the bedside table.
"The Lourdes has it."
Elda frowned.
"How on earth would she get it?"
"That I don't know, but it was in her lair. I'm sure of it."
"But we didn't even know the title, how could you have recognized it?"
"I've meditated on those pages a dozen times. During each session, the word 'Yarrow' drifted into my thoughts and I kept assuming that the herb was in the title or perhaps just a recipe for some malady within the text, but tonight at dinner, as Bridget spoke of cookbooks, a memory came to me. There was a book on the Lourdes's vanity. I barely paid it heed, but my subconscious must have retained it. When I went back through her memories, I saw it again. The author is Yarrow, not the title. Joseph Yarrow!"
"I will contact Galla at Sorciére and ask her to search for a copy."
"There is no copy. The L'Obscurite don't just deal in rare books, Elda, many of their texts are one of a kind. Yarrow's book was written and bound by himself. The information was too dangerous to publish."
"Then you will return to the Lourdes?" Elda asked, frowning.
"Unfortunately, yes."
****
Sebastian stood outside his own home, his home with Abby. Night had fallen. The cold had edged from the bitterness of winter to the brisk winds of spring. He could hear Lake Michigan, turbulent, beating against the shore. A glow emanated from their living room window and he walked onto the deck and around the house to peer inside.
He could have simply walked through the front door, but he didn't.
At the window, he paused and took a breath. Abby and Oliver lay entwined on the shag rug before the fire. They were not making love, but somehow their embrace felt more intimate. They lay facing each other, staring deeply into one another's eyes. He could see only Abby's face. She smiled and laughed and touched Oliver's lips tenderly with her fingertips.
Sebastian rested his head against the glass. His stomach had turned into a ball of steel. Equal parts fury and despair trembled through his body. He tilted his head back and then drove it forward, smashing it into the glass.
The vision melted and now he stood in the oratory at Ula. The stone walls were muted and blurry. From the corner of his eye, he saw shelves of books of shadows, a desk littered with papers. But his eyes saw only the metal box. It shone as if lit from within, but the room was void of light, the darkness outside seeping in. He touched the box, smooth and cold beneath his fingers. Deftly, he put in the code and lifted the lid. He reached inside, lifted the black cloth, heavy with the weight of its treasure. Folding back the fabric, he sighed with pleasure. The amulet lay on the black cloth. The red stone pulsed and the eye of the snake locked with his own.
A tremor of pleasure moved through him as he lifted the amulet out and slipped it over his head.
Instantly, the room vanished and Sebastian stood in another castle. His castle. He stood at the head of a long table. The chairs were filled. Claire, his parents, Abby and others. He was the master of this universe. In a dungeon in the heart of the castle, Oliver hung chained to the wall. A smile curved Sebastian's lips at the thought of Oliver, powerless, while he ruled supreme.
Abby looked at him with adoration. He touched the amulet on his chest and felt the power surge through his body. He lifted his hands and the ceiling ripped open, revealing the night sky. A thousand skin-walkers soared above the castle. They waited for their master, Sebastian, to guide them. The power had shifted. The light had been snuffed out.
He blinked away the visions. More would come if he didn't force himself back to reality. The images hurt. Like dreams, they did not feel false. He embodied each completely. In the final vision, he had been a Vepar, the greatest, most powerful Vepar that ever existed. A shudder of pleasure and fear coursed through his body.
"Interesting dreams you have, hybrid."
He looked toward the voice and his head lolled on his neck. Every muscle and tendon in his body seemed weak and useless. His eyes blurred and then cleared.
The water witch sat in a glittering opal chair. The curves and edges of the chair sparkled in a rainbow of colors reflected by the light from a huge crystal chandelier. Sebastian lay on a floor of glass. Beneath the glass, he could see only sky and clouds. The witch looked different. Her red eyes were shaded with a purple veil, and her long black hair hung over one shoulder. She wore a shimmering black shift, and silver bracelets lined her arms nearly to her elbows.
Sebastian struggled to his hands and knees and then stood, shakily. Looking at the floor made him dizzy and he stumbled to a wall and pressed his hand against the cool limestone.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"To make your dreams come true, of course. What do you think the purpose of this world is, after all?"
Sebastian touched his head gingerly and found a soft spot matted with dried blood.
"Who hit me?"
"You had a little fall."
He shook his head and searched the room for a door. There was none.
"You have something that belongs to me," the witch continued, and Sebastian heard barely disguised fury, and envy, beneath her words. "You intend to destroy it."
She had seen the amulet in his dreams.
"How do you know that? What did you do to my head?"
The witch laughed. Smoothing her hand along the opal chair, she trained her steely gaze on Sebastian's.
"Do you fancy yourself a witch, hybrid? An impenetrable fortress? I am a witch. I could fillet your mind with a thought. I have seen all that you are and I am not impressed."
"The amulet is dangerous. It holds a spirit. She'd make mince-meat out of you." He didn't know why he spoke the words, surely not to save himself. He knew she would grow angrier and she did.
Beneath him the floor vanished and he plummeted into the sky. He might have screamed. He thrust his arms above him, but the glass floor had already disappeared. He flailed in terror, unable to breathe as the wind rushed by. With a smack he hit the ground, but it wasn't the ground, it was glass. He opened his eyes to find the glass floor restored beneath him and the witch watching him with satisfaction. She had meant to scare him. It worked.
He shifted onto his back and breathed, feeling his heart kicking against his ribs. The rise and fall of his chest had never felt so good.
"In this place, I own you. And the only way you leave is if I let you. Understand?"
He nodded.
"Good. I'm not surprised to hear you've underestimated the true nature of the amulet. Your kind always does. Those who consider their magic superior scoff at the true magic of this world."
"It's not here. It's in America
."
She said nothing, but Sebastian felt his head grow stuffy and thick.
"I see," she said after a moment. "Then you will bring it back to me."
"Why would I do that?" he asked, pushing himself up to sitting. He still felt the sensation of falling, and looking at the glass floor made his stomach turn.
"Oh, a slip of the tongue, I fear. You will not bring it with your own two hands. You will stay here with me in the dream wood. Your lovely Abby will bring it to me or perhaps the handsome Oliver. Maybe they could fetch it together."
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. He wanted to get angry and rush the evil witch but knew too well the power she had over the dream wood. If she intended to kill him, it would take only a thought.
"I've left on my own before. How can you hold me here?"
The witch smiled and her red eyes shone beneath her veil.
"You crossed the barrier. Down here, you are mine."
He understood. When he went into the pond, he left the dream wood that was controlled by hybrids and entered another world, a dark world.
****
"Someone's coming," Oliver shouted.
Abby jolted awake and blinked into the dark forest. Where was she?
At first, she thought herself back in her house in Trager, dreaming in her bed. She looked around wildly, trying to get a grasp on reality. Dark hulking shadows slowly materialized into trees. Overhead the dark sky held thousands of stars and the moon shone.
She stood quickly and a wave of dizziness almost buckled her. Julian grabbed her arm and steadied her.
A figure crossed the bridge and Abby's heart leaped and then fell as she saw the small, hunched person who moved toward them.
Julian lit a torch and held it before them.
"Help," the stranger croaked.
"You have to cross the bridge," Julian called. "And then we can help you."
The figure moved closer and Oliver stepped in front of Abby.
"Go back toward the trees Abby, just in case."
Abby didn't move. She watched as the man, clearly not Sebastian, stepped from the bridge and sank to his knees.
The old man looked at them with sickly yellow eyes from a gaunt face lined with wrinkles. His hair hung limp, revealing bald patches.
Julian knelt and took the man's hand. Helena hurried to their side.
The man hung his head.
"I have a message from the water witch. If you want to see Sebastian again, you must bring her the amulet."
****
"How is he?" Julian asked when Matilda met him and Helena in the apothecary.
The Sky Mothers kept their tinctures and potions in a circular room connected to their greenhouse.
Helena was busily folding herbs into a poultice.
"He is alive, but I fear not for long." Matilda sighed. "Something continues to drain him. I've performed several healing charms and given him every potion in our stores, but still, he declines."
"He is Fin, then? The hybrid who disappeared fifty years ago?"
Matilda frowned and nodded.
"Yes, he has aged greatly. At first, I did not recognize him at all."
"Has he said more?" Helena asked, handing the poultice to Matilda.
"Very little that has been coherent. I can't tell what are dreams and what are real experiences. He talks a lot about the water witch, whoever that is. Liam never mentioned her and surely Meghan would not have created an evil witch in the dream wood."
Julian sighed and ran his hands through his silver hair.
"I'm starting to think the universe is working against us on this curse," he mumbled.
Helena touched his arm but felt a similar defeat.
"What will you do?" Matilda asked.
"I will retrieve the amulet and bring it back. What other choice do we have?"
"And you will just hand it over to this dark witch?"
"Of course not. I'm not sure what we will do. I would like some time with Fin. I believe that our only hope is to know more about the dream wood."
Matilda crossed her arms and looked away. Helena wondered if she might resist allowing Julian access to the frail man.
"Let's give him a few more hours of rest and then you can attempt to speak with him."
****
Abby waited until Matilda closed the door firmly behind her and walked toward the ocean.
She pressed the door open and peeked into the room.
The old man, Fin, lay on a table covered in white linen. A mist surrounded the bed, seeping from a series of pores in the floor. A mobile of crystals dangled just above the man's chest and cast patterns of rainbow light across the sheet covering his emaciated body.
"Fin?" Abby whispered, moving closer to the bed.
She gently lifted the washcloth away from the man's eyes.
He opened them, blinking at Abby several times as if he could not see. His eyes were still yellow, but some of the white had begun to return. The corners were thick with a milky crust.
"I'm Abby, Fin. Sebastian is my fiancé."
Fin stared at her, but no recognition dawned.
"Did you meet Sebastian?"
Fin pressed his lips together and his eyes darted toward the door.
Abby glanced behind her, but no one had entered.
"Please, it's urgent."
Fin tried to speak, but his voice came out in a barely audible croak.
Abby found a pitcher of water and quickly poured him a glass. She held the cup to the man's parched lips and tried to steady her shaking hands.
"Met him," Fin whispered. "You can't save him."
Abby clutched the man's hand, alarmed at the paper-thin skin and bird-like bones beneath.
"What do you mean? Why can't I save him?"
The door swung open behind her and Abby whirled around.
Binda stood in the doorway. She narrowed her eyes at Abby, but did not chastise her. Carrying a tray of slimy looking slugs, she walked to the edge of the bed and surveyed Fin.
"Leaches, my dear."
Fin's eyes were closed. He had fallen back asleep.
"I can help," Abby told Binda, watching the older witch carefully arrange the leeches on Fin's bare chest.
Binda did not speak or look at her.
"My blood can heal him," she continued.
Binda paused.
"This man cannot be saved, Abby."
"What? Why?"
Binda pulled the sheet lower and Abby jumped back. From the waist down the man's skin had grown gray and putrid. The smell made Abby gag and she ran from the room, vomiting on the stone walkway outside the door. She did not return to the room, but walked toward her yurt, tears streaming down her face. What had happened to the man? And did the same fate await Sebastian?
Chapter 11
Elda knocked on Lydie's door and waited. Lydie had spent a good deal of time in her room since the others had left for Australia. Elda had little experience with pre-teens. It had been decades since she'd experienced the evolution of a child as they transitioned into adulthood and she felt, honestly, unprepared.
Lydie opened the door.
"Hi," she said, with a hint of defiance.
Elda sensed that Lydie wanted to act out, but fought the urges. Though Lydie was young, she had been raised in an old castle in the ways of an old world and teen rebellion didn't exactly fit.
"Can I come in?"
Lydie held the door open and retreated to the couch at the end of her bed. A worn paperback lay open on its spine.
"Are you upset that I asked you not to go to Australia?"
Lydie bit her lip and broke eye contact with Elda. She looked sad, angry, hurt-a torrent of emotions that all wanted their time in the light.
Finally, she nodded and swiped a curl behind her ear. She picked absently at a fraying string on her sweatshirt.
"I'm sorry that it hurt you, Lydie. I want you to know that I have a reason."
Lydie looked up with a mixture of curiosity and challenge.
<
br /> "Did you know that your mother had a sister?"
"A sister?" Lydie apparently had not known.
Elda nodded.
"Your mother mentioned her once many years ago, but then never again. I believed she had died or perhaps they were estranged. After your parents' deaths, I briefly looked for her sister, but could find no address or information about her whereabouts. Then a year ago, I received this."
Elda held up an envelope.
"It was addressed 'To Whom It May Concern' at your parents old home. I had their mail forwarded to our post office box many years ago. After a couple of years, the mail slowed and then stopped altogether. Until this letter, of course."
Lydie held out her hand.
"Can I see it?"
Elda handed it to her.
She studied the envelope. The return address said Camilla Baker, who lived on West Sixteenth Street in Dunedin, Florida.
"Aunt Cammy," Lydie whispered under her breath.
Elda widened her eyes, surprised.
"You did know her?"
Lydie wrinkled her forehead and shook her head.
"I don't know. I guess I must have. Seeing her name just now, I suddenly remembered my mom standing in the kitchen saying that we were going to bake a cake for Aunt Cammy's birthday. I don't remember the woman though, or the birthday for that matter. Though I do remember my mom letting me lick the bowl. It was strawberry cake batter."
Elda smiled.
"Your mother had a special skill in the kitchen. She made the most divine coconut cake."
Lydie smiled and then frowned.
"My memories of her are so flimsy. I get a glimpse, a smell, an image, but nothing of substance. I want to close my eyes and get transported back there, but I just can't."
Elda took a deep breath and moved closer to Lydie on the couch. She put an arm around her and leaned her cheek against Lydie's soft, sweet-smelling curls.
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