The inside was a shambles, but not everything had been destroyed. Nico had lived here as he did at the Haven: surrounded by books and plants. Even wrecked the place had the lingering trace of Nico’s presence, and Deven touched a wall or shelf here and there, almost smiling. He wished he could stay here for a while, in a place so much a part of the Elf, one that meant so much to him he never spoke of it. Perhaps if the Elves rebuilt the Sanctuary he could help Nico restore this place.
“I brought everything with me that really mattered,” Nico was saying as he stepped over broken furniture and gathered up a few last belongings. “But there have been a couple of things I’ve found myself wishing for, and one or two I think Mother would like to have. Give me just a minute…”
Deven stayed out of the way; they still had time. Nico emerged from another room—the only other, it looked like—with a bag in which he’d stowed his treasures. He slung it on his shoulder and gave the little house a long, searching look.
When he turned back to Deven his eyes were damp again. “Okay…let’s go.”
Ethelin was standing on the path, staring back at the Sanctuary, which they could see almost in its entirety from here. It wasn’t a large town, its main section branching off the central circle, a web-like arrangement of houses, shops, and schools. The whole thing was about half the size of the Haven property in Austin. The view here must have been breathtaking before tonight. Now, it revealed only a wasteland…and a graveyard.
“We didn’t find anyone,” Ethelin said, heartsick. “I thought surely there would be a few.”
“Where are the rest of the bodies?” Nico asked. “As many as there were in the Commons it wasn’t enough—and if they only took twenty alive there should be dozens more.”
Deven sighed. “They piled them inside the houses,” he replied, “then set fire to the walls. Even if the bodies weren’t reduced to ash there will be debris covering them.”
He coaxed the two Elves back down the path the way they’d come; Nico could have built a new portal here but there was always the possibility that a straggler or two had appeared in the meantime where they’d started.
“Do you want to check your house?” Nico asked Ethelin.
She shook her head and resolutely didn’t look at the destruction as they passed. “I saw it already, on the way in, or what was left of it. Only the chimney still stands.”
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at Nico keenly. “Is it true what they’re saying? That this happened because of you?”
Deven watched Nico’s face, unsure what the answer would be—he expected Nico to claim guilt, but instead the Weaver said, “I made the Gatestone for Kai, and the humans stole it. And the only reason he came to Earth in the first place was to help me. But I think perhaps it would be more productive to place the blame on those who burned this place to the ground and murdered all our friends. No matter what hand I had in it, their leader chose to do this. And it is he who will pay for it.”
Nico didn’t add that first they had to find a way to get the Prophet out of Kai’s body. Best not to drop that particular bomb on just anyone.
They made the rest of the trek in silence, pausing here and there to double check an empty house or pile of rubble that caught their attention.
Now and then he saw a look of despair or panic cross Nico’s face, and reached out to him both with a hand and with energy, keeping him steady. There would be time to weep later, at home in the safety and quiet of one of their suites, either in each other’s arms or with the whole Tetrad. Just a little longer, and Nico could exhale again.
Finally, they reached the part of the path where the survivors had departed, and with a heavy sigh Nico got ready to open another portal.
As soon as the gateway stood open Ethelin darted through as if the horror she’d seen here was snapping at her heels. Deven, still holding his palm against Nico’s back, slid his hand around to take the Weaver’s and lead him through. Once Nico took his attention from keeping it open the portal would fall shut in about thirty seconds, long enough for them to pass.
Their eyes met. Then Nico lowered his head to rest on Deven’s shoulder, and they held on to each other tightly a moment before taking that last step through the portal and leaving Avilon behind.
*****
As soon as they were back at the Haven Nico went looking for his mother, and found her at the infirmary where Mo was giving the baby a looking-over. All the children had been brought for a quick examination even if they weren’t obviously injured, as the smoke inhalation was worse for them. Two others sat in the clinic with oxygen masks over their fair little faces.
Kalea and Nico embraced, and she even had a smile for Deven, who again hung back so none of the other Elves around would be distracted or made anxious by his presence. He stood near the door, arms crossed, fighting two strange urges: one to go get a closer look at the baby and another to run screaming into the night.
“If you’d like, Mother, you can stay in my suite,” Nico said. “You and Inaliel will have more space and privacy and you might find the atmosphere in here more soothing.”
Kalea looked at him, dubious. “I have no desire to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be. I spend most days with my Lord anyway.” Nico glanced over at Deven inquisitively—up to now they had never made assumptions about who would sleep where on the days they were alone together, but ended up wherever they ended up.
Deven nodded.
Kalea visibly relaxed once they had her in Nico’s suite, and Deven could understand why; of all the places in the Haven where she could stay, this one was the closest thing to Avilon she would find. The bedroom was full of the gentle, verdant feel of Nico’s energy.
They settled Inaliel, who’d been given a clean bill of health from a bemused Mo, in a sort of corral made of pillows on the bed, and Kalea went to shower and change into the robe Nico gave her. She’d be one of the few Elves sleeping in familiar clothing. The rest would have to make do with the mountain of clothes the Elite had donated or lent. A preliminary shipment of food and supplies had already arrived but tomorrow would bring the first big delivery to a Signet-owned warehouse in town where the Elite would bring it the rest of the way to the Haven.
Once they had the Weaver and the baby settled, the Pair left for the Signet Suite, where David and Miranda were waiting for a debriefing on the night’s events.
Miranda got up from her chair and came over to embrace Nico. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
Nico didn’t know how to answer that, but managed, “Better than most of the others.” He still hadn’t been able to let his grief show, and probably wouldn’t for a few more hours. Deven had seen many, many people endure too many calamities over the years and knew the general timeline.
They quickly went over the numbers and a rundown of how many Elves were sheltered where in the building. It turned out relocating the Elite hadn’t been necessary—there were far fewer survivors than they’d hoped. The displaced Elite had already returned to their quarters.
“We’ve got a truck coming this afternoon that’s just supplies for the babies,” Miranda told them. “It didn’t even occur to me to think about stuff like cribs and diapers. They only have to get by for a few more hours, though.”
“Most of the injuries Mo reported were superficial,” David added. “There were a handful of broken bones and lacerations that needed stitches but mostly it was bruises and smoke inhalation—not to mention traumatic stress. We’re going to need to keep an eye on everyone’s mental health as much as physical.”
Miranda looked over at Dev. “How are you?” she asked. “That can’t have been easy…all those fallen buildings.”
He had to smile. Of course she would think about that, even when Nico hadn’t. “I’m all right.”
Nico looked dismayed and embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It never even occurred to me…”
“Nor should it have,” he replied. “You had enough to worry abou
t. I can handle it.”
“Not to call bullshit on your resiliency, Dev,” David said, “but I call bullshit. After the last two years we’re not taking anything for granted with either of you. Now, do you two want to stay here tonight?”
He and Nico exchanged a look. “No, that’s all right,” Nico told David. “I think I’d prefer to stay in Dev’s room, if he doesn’t mind.”
Deven smiled. “Of course I don’t, silly Elf.”
Miranda nodded. “I figured as much—but if you decide you need more support, we’re here.”
She reached over and squeezed the Elf’s hand. He smiled at her. “Thank you, my Lady.”
“You said there’s no way to break the spell that makes a Gatestone,” David said. “So basically it will never be safe for them to go home.”
“It cannot be broken,” Nico affirmed, “but it will wear off. Even if it were never used the spell upon it would fade within three years at most, and factoring in the number of trips Kai had already taken I imagine they have a half-dozen more portals or six months’ time, whichever runs out first. But we cannot predict how they will use it.”
“Then we’ll need to come up with a more long-term solution.” David frowned, thoughtful. “Obviously we can’t relocate them all to the city; they’ll need something as close to nature as we can provide. It will have to be secure, or at least someplace we can make secure.”
Deven lowered his eyes to the fireplace, just listening.
“Is anyplace really secure?” Miranda asked. “Can’t Morningstar go anywhere they want with the Stone?”
“No,” Nico replied. “The Stone is made using Kai’s memories; they can only use it to go places he himself has set foot upon. Until coming here he had never left Avilon.”
“But they could come here,” she said worriedly. “They could be here now.”
“In theory, yes, but I would feel it if a portal opened near me. Now that I know they have the Stone I can block any attempt they make. In fact if they try I can latch onto its energy and drain it. The problem isn’t really this Stone, it’s the fact that they have taken Weavers captive; there is always a chance they could force one of them to make a new Stone that will go to Avilon. One or two of those taken have even visited the other Sanctuaries, so they are now in danger too, but I have no way of reaching them to warn them. We may end up with refugees from all three by the end.”
He paused, then added, “There is far too much we don’t know to say for certain what Morningstar intends or is capable of; I think our best course is to find the refugees a new permanent home. If they can return to Avilon eventually, so be it, but we cannot rely on that hope. Between the Signet forces and my own abilities, we can make a new Sanctuary safer than Avilon ever was. I can seal it completely against the presence or awareness of any human. We just need a location, somewhere the Elves will be comfortable that is defensible, and someplace neither Kai nor any of the other refugees has ever seen.”
Deven didn’t really intend to make a noise, but apparently they all heard one, and looked at him inquisitively.
He lifted his gaze to Nico and smiled softly. “I think I know the very place.”
Chapter Two
Sleep and Nico met only briefly that afternoon, and their encounter was strained. Not only did he lay awake most of the day with his mind running in exhausting circles about Avilon, Kai, and the bleak future of his…well, what had once been his people…there was another problem, one that had been building for weeks, finally growing too intense to ignore in the two days since the refugees had arrived.
It was finally the New Moon. He’d been feeling it inch closer and closer for over a week, and with it a dread like nothing he’d ever known. They’d been given a reprieve after the Tetrad formed—the energy among the four of them had been so overwhelmingly strong it had effectively shielded them all from the worst of the death-lust. They’d all fed normally up until a few days ago when the dust had finally settled and the pull of their Thirdborn nature began to rear its dark, intoxicating head.
He was terrified, yet at the same time craved that hunt so badly he could think of little else, and that terrified him even more. Every second that his mind wasn’t occupied with the Elves or his brother or Morningstar, the thought crept into his mind again: In a few days I will murder a human. After that, I will never stop.
The others had some kind of coordinated plan to take care of him that night, to keep him calm and safe, as if there truly were a way to ease him into what could be hundreds of years of killing.
He couldn’t help but smile at that, as he stood in the bathroom that afternoon washing his face. They were dedicated to his well-being, and the love in their efforts touched him deeply. Miranda in particular worried over his welfare—she knew what he was feeling, knew what he was facing. She hated it, and hated it for him, but she was determined to make sure his first time was as gentle as it could be. He loved her for it—loved all of them for it.
Thinking of the Queen, and of how good they had all been to him, gave him his first moment of something like acceptance. Yes, it was horrible, what they had to do. But if he must become this creature at least he would return home with these incredible people who had taken him in, given him their love and support when even those whose blood he shared had rejected him. These remarkable beings, his three, lovers and friends and heroes, one and all.
He smiled faintly and reached for a towel. He doubted whatever human he killed would find it a fair trade…but if this was what he had to do to earn the life he had stumbled into, the arms he was about to climb back into…so be it.
His smile grew.
I get to walk through that door and…he’ll be there. Right there, next to me, and he’ll grab hold of me in his sleep and pull me close, muttering something in Gaelic and winding around me like a climbing vine.
Even as he had the thought, however, he heard a cry of fear in the bedroom, and his own heart clenched.
Nico left the bathroom in time to see blankets erupt in a storm of flailing arms. There was panic, pure and mad and heartrending, in the sound Deven made as he fought himself awake.
Nico was beside him in a heartbeat. “Hey there,” he said gently, taking hold of the Prime’s arms and shaking him slightly to jostle him the rest of the way awake. “It’s all right…you’re safe, I’lyren. You’re safe.”
Wide, frightened eyes met his, almost without recognition for a moment. Deven’s voice was young and hoarse, though Nico hadn’t heard any screaming this time. “The walls are falling,” he all but sobbed, clenching Nico’s forearms painfully hard. “They’re falling…there’s no light…I mean there wasn’t…and I woke up and you weren’t here…”
“I’m here now. I’m here with you.” Nico drew him close, letting Deven’s hands clutch and pat where they needed to to convince himself Nico was alive.
Even after only a few weeks they had their routines. Deven dreamed about the Haven falling down on him, and of trying to dig Nico out of the wreckage. Nico dreamed of being torn apart and of the cruel humiliating laughter of the Prophet standing over his dismembered but still-living body. Sometimes Dev’s nightmare was of Miranda being crushed, or David, and often it started out as Jonathan and cycled through everyone he loved before he ended up dying himself, trapped in the dark in agony. Sometimes Nico looked up to see Kai’s face watching the humans carve Nico open and stomp on his internal organs or sew explosives or even living creatures up inside his body cavity. They both woke screaming at least twice a week, usually more. So far they’d managed not to do it on the same night.
Gradually the nightmare faded and Deven grew still, his tremors subsiding, breath deepening. He vacillated between freezing and burning up for a while until the dream lost its power over him.
“Sorry,” Nico felt him mutter shakily against the Elf’s neck. “I promise I won’t always lose my damn mind when you go to the bathroom.”
Nico smiled. “No apologies necessary. We both have our monsters in the
dark.”
Deven burrowed in as closely as he could, and Nico took a moment to bring up the Sight and take a quick look at the energetic matrix he’d built what felt like a lifetime ago to keep the Prime reasonably sane. It rarely needed attention these days, but he didn’t want to take that for granted. Just after the Tetrad had formed he’d made a few adjustments to accommodate the increased power moving through it.
As David would say, situation normal. The strands he had Woven around Deven’s mind were holding steady without a glitch. It had taken several disasters but the version that he’d come up with the last time was practically a citadel. It wasn’t a shield against grief or loss but it kept the foundation of the Prime’s mind intact in spite of seven centuries’ worth of debilitating pain. It was, Nico thought privately, the most beautiful thing he’d ever Woven.
“Everything okay in there?” Deven asked drowsily.
Nico chuckled. “I didn’t think you knew I was looking.”
“Mmm.” Nico felt a hand sliding around his hip, then up along his back. “I almost always notice you touching me, especially from the inside.”
The low purr in the words, and their intimacy, sent a shiver through the Elf.
He recalled Jonathan saying once that for most of their Pairhood Deven had had a fairly low sex drive—he’d happily participate upon request, but didn’t often initiate. In the last few years of their relationship that had started to change, to the Consort’s delight. David had mentioned something similar; the Prime’s need for physical contact waxed and waned.
Nico seemed to have caught Deven on an upswing—whether it was the newness of their relationship, the added energy of the rest of their foursome, or just a returned enthusiasm for being alive, Deven had a tendency to pin him against walls or drag him off to empty rooms without warning.
Honestly Nico didn’t care much about the why. He was far too busy enjoying the how.
Case in point.
Then their coms beeped, and they both groaned.
Shadow Rising (The Shadow World Book 7) Page 3