Oh my Goddess, Maeve, why didn't you tell me?
He shook his head. "The spell will get her killed."
Shai's eyes widened. "How so?"
"It takes an experienced witch to wield it effectively. It takes a great deal of power to cast and even more to maintain. It isn't the casting, it's the maintaining of the spell and that takes years of practice. Most spells require a burst of energy to cast them. This one requires prolonged exertion and it takes years to perfect that ability. There's no way she can hope to succeed."
He looked at his hands, hands that had cast many spells but never the A' bhais Cadail. Could he cast and maintain it? He wasn't sure, he'd never tried. There were very few witches who could complete the spell and live to tell about it.
"Oh my." Shai's gasp tore at his heart.
A subtle tapping turned his attention to the window. Darkness reflected his image and, in a spill of firelight, he saw movement. On the terrace stood a massive raven, its sharp black gaze locked with his. The bird tapped the glass with its beak and, this time, Quinn rose from his chair and walked to the French door.
"Shai, can you leave us alone?"
He opened the door to admit the bird. It hopped into the room, its sticklike feet making no sound on the carpeting. Quinn glanced at Shai, catching her speculative gaze. He had no doubt she'd be asking him questions later, but she nodded and rose from the chair.
"Sure thing. I'll close the door."
As she left, the bird flew into the chair she'd just vacated. Fathomless black eyes stared into his.
Quinn smiled. "Hello, Father."
The bird bobbed its head, then spread its wings. In the space of a few seconds, the feathered creature transformed. Clad entirely in black, Keirgen was a distinguished man with golden hair tinted at the temples with silver and laughing brown eyes.
"How's the family?" Quinn asked.
"Your brothers and sisters are fine and your mother sends her love. She's a bit peeved that you haven't contacted her about attending the yearly Samhain feast." He waved a mock-admonishing finger at his son. "She's threatened to come after you with her rolling pin."
He grinned at the thought of his tiny, five foot three stepmother coming after him with a rolling pin. Dainty and good-natured, Emme was a delight and she wouldn't hurt a fly.
"I meant to get back to you, but I've been pretty busy lately."
Now, there was an understatement.
Keirgen nodded, his gaze sharp. "You look tired, my son."
Leave it to his father to say it like it is.
"I am. It's been a rough few days." He gestured to the brandy snifters. "Care for a drink?"
"No thanks, I don't like to drink and fly, it makes me dizzy." He gestured for Quinn to sit, waiting until his son was seated before he spoke. "I think you know why I'm here. I've heard disturbing stories about Mortianna and I've come to speak with you about it. I've been hearing she's banding the witches together and she wishes to join forces with someone, a vampire, to overthrow the Council of Elders."
"Mikhail?"
"Possibly, probably. He made a very public grab for control last year. I'm hearing another name also, Gabrielle DesNoir. She's said to be Mikhail's consort and a lesser vampire, only about a hundred years of age."
Quinn frowned. "What does Mortianna hope to accomplish with this?"
"Power over the vampires and were-animals? I don't know for sure." His father's gaze was direct. "One thing is certain, she wants the vampire you're protecting and she'll do anything to get him."
"Including using an innocent."
Kiergen nodded. "That's a given. Mortianna will do anything to further her own end, including destroying her own child. She could care less if an innocent gets hurt."
Quinn fixed his gaze on the fire. He knew what his father was telling him even if he didn't come out and say it. As her son, it was his responsibility to stop Mortianna from causing further damage. This new wrinkle was bigger than Maeve and her problems. The delicate balance of power in the world of the preternaturals hung by a thread. If Mortianna succeeded in her scheme, many people would die.
Until Bliss' death, she'd been a reluctant figurehead in the realm of the witches, as she'd always preferred being left alone. When called upon in matters of dispute, she'd been known for fairness in her judgments even if her punishments were harsh. She didn't tolerate fools gladly and she let that be known far and wide.
But the tide had turned. In the last few months, the mortality rate among the preternaturals and witches had been rising. The rumored reason was Mortianna. With the death of Bliss, the witch had become unbalanced, lashing out at those surrounding her.
"I'm sorry it's comes to this, my son."
He saw genuine sorrow on Keirgen's face. "I know, Father."
"A child should never have to chose between what's right and his family, but there are times when hard decisions must be made. This will probably be one of your most difficult."
Something died within Quinn's soul as he accepted his father's words. "You're right. But I think I knew a showdown was imminent the moment I crossed her and stopped her from killing Maeve."
"I heard about that." Keirgen smiled. "Good show, son."
"What else could I do?"
"Just what you did."
"So now I have to decide what I'm going to do next. First off, what can you tell me about the minions?"
His smile faded. "Nasty buggers. The only thing I know is they can't stand water. They dissolve like sugar and the smell is abhorrent."
"That explains it, then." He told his father about the peculiar "corpses" they'd found a few days earlier.
"I don't know what happened to Mortianna." Keirgen rose from his chair and placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "She wasn't always like this. I think Bliss' death seriously unhinged her. Mortianna is your biological mother, but I want you to know that, when I left her, I kept the best of her with me."
"She was never my mother." Quinn's throat tightened. "She ceased to be anything to me the day she turned her back on us. You, Emme and the kids are all the family I ever needed."
Keirgen blinked, his eyes suspiciously shiny. "You were more than I could have hoped for in a son." He gave Quinn's shoulder a squeeze before he pulled away and walked to the French door. "I'll tell Emme to expect you around Samhain if not on it." He winked at his son. "And maybe I can keep her from coming after you with that rolling pin."
Quinn grinned.
Keirgen's smile faded. "Right now, you have much to do. Your destiny lies before you. Embrace it and walk in light."
"Walk in light," he echoed.
The mantle of inevitability settled on his shoulders as his father stepped into the early morning. Transforming once more into a raven, Keirgen headed for the brightening skies.
Quinn rubbed a hand over his eyes to shake off his weariness. He knew what he had to do.
"So tell me, what do you want with the binding spell?"
Maeve rubbed her eyes, trying to rid herself of the fuzzy sensation in her head. When Mortianna had closed the cape around her, she'd lost consciousness only to awaken in what she assumed was the witch's lair.
She cleared her throat before meeting the woman's gaze. "Does it matter why I need the spell?"
Mortianna's brow arched as a slow smile curved her lips. She nodded before turning her attention to a heavily laden table and the myriad of objects contained on it.
"It doesn't matter to me why you need the spell, I'm merely curious." She reached for a thin sheet of ivory parchment and selected a black quill from a glass container. "By giving you the spell, I'll be breaking thousands of years of silence. It's never been given to a mortal and very few witches have the knowledge even today." She selected a small pot of red liquid. "What I offer you is quite the coup. Many have died in pursuit of this knowledge." She dipped the tip of the quill into the liquid and began to write.
What would it hurt to tell her?
"I have a score to settle with someon
e."
"Really? And this calls for the A' bhais Cadail? Now this is interesting, indeed." The scratching of the quill over parchment stopped as Mortianna glanced at her. "Revenge is a motive I can understand. It appears we have much more in common than I thought. Who is he, a mortal?"
"Vampire."
"Ahh, that explains it." She nodded slowly. "May I ask who you wish to use this spell on?"
"Mikhail of Kiev, the vampire who killed my sister."
The witch's expression was startled before turning faintly admiring. "It appears I've underestimated you for you aim high." She turned away once more and the scratching resumed.
"Will the binding spell work on a vampire of his power?"
"Oh, yes. The binding spell works on any living creature. However, one thing stands in your way."
"And that would be?"
The sound of spiked heels on stone sounded behind her. Maeve tensed as the sensation of cold air prickled over her skin. Her eyes narrowed as her preternatural senses screamed the arrival of the dead.
Vampire.
Slowly she turned, every sense on alert. Walking toward her was Gabrielle DesNoir, Mikhail's consort. She was a stunning woman. With the fairest of skin, her blue eyes were piercing - unearthly - and her hair was black as night. Her lips were ruby red and her fangs flashed as she smiled. Clad in black leather from neck to toes, she looked like the spawn of Satan.
The scratching stopped. "Have you met my new friend, Gabrielle?"
Maeve's stomach gave a lurch. Since when did Mortianna declare herself friends with any of the dead? This couldn't be good.
"Not formally." Her lips were stiff.
Gabrielle smiled, her dark eyes mocking. "Maeve Leigh? At long last we meet. I've heard a great deal about you."
"Funny, I've heard nothing about you." She kept her tone bland.
Gabrielle's eyes narrowed and her breath escaped in a slight hiss. Her expression turned calculating. "Oh, I know." She snapped her fingers. "I'd mistaken you for your sister, Rebecca. Mikhail speaks of her very highly."
Maeve curled her fingers around the ends of the chair arms. Gabrielle's words had scored a hit, but she'd be damned to hell before she'd let the vampire know she'd drawn blood.
A trill of laughter escaped Mortianna. "Now, ladies, let's sheath the claws and get down to business. I think we can all benefit from each other's expertise. I've decided we need to form an alliance."
Inwardly, Maeve balked. She had no desire to enter into any type of relationship with the vampire. She'd heard of Gabrielle and her cruel nature and she wanted no part of it. While Maeve would do almost anything to achieve her goal, dealing with the bloodsucker might be the breaking point.
What would the witch ask in return for the spell? Then the question would become was she willing to pay the price? An image of her sister's face rose in her mind. Yes, she would.
"What do we need from her?" Gabrielle was looking at her as if she were some sort of creature that had climbed out from under a rock.
"Plenty. Whether Maeve knows it or not, she's the key to our plans."
Maeve stiffened, her instincts telling her to run at the same time her body refused to obey. She remained planted in the chair. "What do you mean by that?"
"Gabrielle has approached me about the witches' lending aid to her and Mikhail's bid to rule the Council of Elders. I, in turn, want Damien St. James' head on a platter." The witch smiled and it wasn't pleasant. "That's where you come in."
Maeve rose from the chair. It took all of her strength to keep her knees locked and her feet rooted to the ground as her head swam. They wanted Sinjin in exchange for the spell and that she would not do. Sacrificing her friends was the only price she was unwilling to pay.
"I can't help you. Quinn appointed himself Sinjin's guardian and he won't back down."
"He would... for you."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "You expect me to convince your son to relinquish Sinjin into your hands?"
Mortianna smiled and nodded. "And, in return, I'll give you the spell."
She didn't even have to think about it. She had no qualms about destroying herself, but she wouldn't pull Quinn and Sinjin down into her own personal darkness. "No."
Mortianna's brittle smile froze. "What?" Her tone expressed her disbelief.
"You heard me the first time. I said no."
A shriek of laughter escaped Gabrielle as she pointed her finger. "You're a brave one. Foolish, too."
"You ask for the spell, yet you will not do me the smallest favor?" the witch asked.
"This is hardly a small favor." Maeve shook her head. "You can request anything but this from me. You're asking me to betray two good, brave men. One of them your own son."
"I have no son!" Mortianna thundered. "My only child, my precious daughter, lies dead in the other room. She's dead because a vampire laid his hands on her. That vampire will know my vengeance as will his cohorts in the dark realm. Either you stand with me or you stand against me."
Maeve turned away and walked to the door. A mad itch sprang to life between her shoulders seconds before icy fingers closed around the back of her neck. Halted in her tracks, she was whipped around to face Mortianna. She grabbed for her boot knife only to find that her muscles wouldn't respond to her command, as if she were paralyzed. Her brain screamed for her to move, but she was unable to answer the desperate summons.
"You would defy me?" Mortianna snapped.
She couldn't answer so she settled for glaring at the witch, leaving no doubt as to her feelings.
"You have disappointed me."
Gabrielle loomed behind the witch, her eyes glittering with bloodlust. "Let me have her." She licked her lips. "Nothing tastes as good as the blood of innocence."
Revulsion crawled under her skin at the thought of this vampire's hands on her.
"No, I have other plans for her. I think a few weeks in the oubliette will remind her of the correct priorities in life."
The Little Place of Forgetting.
Terror sprang to life as Mortianna dragged her in an iron grip to a small door on the far side of the room. Horror beat a desperate tattoo in her chest as she was forced into the darkness. The witch grabbed a torch to illuminate their way down a narrow, twisting passage that led deep into the earth. Maeve stumbled over the uneven dirt floor as they worked their way deeper still. The scent of mold, decay and damp earth invaded her nose. All too soon, the flickering golden glow illuminated a dark pit near a wall.
A strangled scream locked in her throat as Mortianna pulled her to the ledge of a large pit.
"I want you to think on this as you reside in the oubliette." The witch lit another torch hung on the wall with the one she held in her hand. "Since you're immortal, I shan't have to worry about you dying on me. Again and again, your mortal body will dehydrate and die alone in the darkness, and your immortal soul will rejuvenate it to begin the cycle of life and death once more. It will be never- ending. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Bile threatened to choke her as she quivered in the witch's grip. Oh, what she'd give to feel the hilt of her knife against her palm.
Mortianna continued in a musing tone. "I wonder how many times an immortal can starve to death before the body and soul give up and actually expire? I suppose this could be an experiment of sorts."
Gabrielle gave a cackle, forcing Maeve's gaze from the witch.
"Good-bye, dear, It was so lovely meeting you," the vampire said in a singsong voice.
Mortianna jerked her, swinging her gaze back to the witch. "Shall we see how deep the pit is?" she taunted.
Maeve watched as the witch dropped the torch into the hole. It kept falling and falling until it was but a tiny speck in the darkness. Then it vanished.
Immortal or not, how could she even survive the fall?
"Ah, before you go-I have a present..." Mortianna released her grip on her neck. Placing her hands on either side of Maeve's head, her vision dimmed as darkness surroun
ded her.
"Here is a little something to keep you company in the dark." The witch's voice dropped into a whisper. "Uile fois... I give you the gift of knowledge..."
A scream broke from her lips as cutting pain tore through her head. An icy wind invaded her brain carrying with it a myriad of images. They jumbled and danced like a kaleidoscope in the hands of a two-year-old as her body jerked uncontrollably in the witch's grasp. Consciousness dimmed.
She didn't know how much later it was when Mortianna released her. Ears buzzing, Maeve wavered on wobbly legs at the edge of the oubliette. Her mouth was filled with the taste of blood and her brain staggered with the unwanted knowledge thrust upon her.
Broken images flipped before her eyes like a slide show while bits of conversations played in her ears like that of an audio tape set to repeat. Exhaustion threatened to send her to her knees.
"Sleep well, my daughter, and come back to me with your loyalties in place," Mortianna whispered. "Your destiny awaits you." A gentle hand brushed the small of her back, just enough to tip her into the unfathomable darkness.
* * *
Chapter 11
"You realize that we're willing to die rather than turn Sinjin over to that madwoman." Val's eyes fairly smoked with displeasure.
Shai shot Quinn a look that pleaded for understanding while she tugged her lover's sleeve. "That's his mother," she hissed.
"Something he should have told us earlier. The woman is insane." Val stalked away.
Silent, Quinn acknowledged the truth of his statement. As a child, he'd yearned to have a relationship with Mortianna. Even now, there was a part of him that still wanted her acknowledgement. However, it was apparent that it was impossible. How sad for both of them.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 4 Page 10