It cut through nothing but air.
I cursed myself. Had I even known what I was swinging for? I could hardly see. What if I hit Aenor? Gods, was there anything worse than killing your own mate?
I shook my head, trying to clear it until I had my bearings. I stood in the dark forest again.
Killing your own mate… I’d been thinking of doing just that, hadn’t I? That was actually my plan.
Ending my own mate’s life.
Whenever I thought of it, I felt myself plunging through the heavens, the fire in my heart snuffing out. Lost.
“Aenor.” My voice sounded husky, pleading. Unfamiliar. “Stay close.”
Another glimpse of the witch between the trunks, then a blazing vision of ecstasy beguiled my thoughts. Aenor was in my lap now, her legs wrapped around my waist, kissing my neck with languid strokes of her tongue. I could feel her body’s need for me, and I wanted to make her shudder with pleasure.
With an iron will, I forced the dream from my mind. Cold, dead trees jutting from the snow, a squall of sparkling flakes whirling around me. And Aenor standing in the center of it all. She’d conjured her icy sword, but she looked lost, consumed by visions herself.
Was she thinking of me?
Whatever the case, I had to keep her safe from this vile monster.
Fire roared in my chest, melting away my dreams.
Now, I could see the clear path wending through the forest. But when I grabbed Aenor’s hand to pull her along, a new vision clouded in my mind. It was the island of Ys before I’d sunk it.
A little girl with blue hair stood on a seaside cliff, surrounded by wildflowers of gold and periwinkle. The sun streamed over the landscape, lemon yellow, glinting off the water. The girl laughed, flicking her hands above the sea. At her command, the waves roared higher, and the bells of Ys tolled.
Aenor’s desires were seeping into my own mind as I held her hand.
The little girl turned to see a woman wearing a yellowed wedding dress, silver-blue hair threaded with narcissus flowers and seashells. Aenor’s mother.
She crossed to Aenor and stroked her hair, pulling her close. Her green eyes shone with pride.
I dropped Aenor’s hand, clearing my mind of the vision. I spun, looking for the baobhan sith.
“Aenor,” I whispered. “Stay with me. Use your loathing of me to forget everything happy.”
She cut me a sharp look that told me she was back with me and gripped her ice sword.
I’d seen her vision of perfect happiness—her mother’s pride. The same mother I’d killed. No wonder she despised me down to my bones.
But the saddest part of her vision was that I didn’t think anything like that had ever happened. In real life, Queen Malgven wore a dress stained with old blood. It had been clean in the vision. And Queen Malgven wasn’t proud of her daughter, was she? She hadn’t trusted her daughter enough to keep her sober. She’d gotten Aenor drunk to drown Shahar, hiding the truth from her.
Aenor’s breath clouded around her head, eyes alert. “There’s more than one baobhan sith.”
Flaming gods.
She was more alert that I was. And now, I saw what she meant—the flashes of white between he trees, moving like ghosts. Their skin so pale it had a blue sheen. No wonder they had the power to confuse me so easily.
As my eyes sharpened, I caught the white, ragged cloth hanging off their bony bodies, trailing in the wintry winds. So many of them…
My impulse was to burn everything around me—but that would mean Aenor, too. She was entirely too flammable. If I used my fire, I’d have to be very careful.
Icy webs of frost spread in my chest. The witch had spawned. And if I couldn’t keep a clear head, they’d drain Aenor’s blood while I dreamt.
29
Aenor
I’d just been back in Ys, looking at Mama. And now I was in a creepy-ass forest, surrounded by winter witches. It looked like a dozen Beiras out there, flickering through the trees, white hair streaming in the wind. The snow crunched under my bare feet.
Sadly, in the hierarchy of situations in which my ice powers were helpful, fighting snow witches was somewhere at the bottom.
Gods, I was so close. I wondered if the Merrow could see me with his scrying powers from the dungeon. Did he know I was coming for him?
Footfalls in the snow made my heart race, and I turned to see one of the witches. My heart skipped a beat. She cocked her head, blue lips twitching, soundless. She blinked, three bloodshot eyes, and reached for me. Her body glowed with pearly light.
I swung my ice sword at her, but it shattered against her body, ice chips sparking in the dim light. The witch’s grin split her pale face, exposing her long teeth. Death shone in her eyes.
I whirled again, and another witch was upon me. Panic climbed up my throat.
But when someone stroked a dark claw down my arm, euphoria sang through my body. All my fear disappeared. My heart beat hard, a drumbeat luring me to move. The witches faded away around me, until there was nothing left but starlight beaming onto the snow.
Never put your faith in a man. Mama’s voice rang in my head. They’ll break your heart every time.
But there was music now. I could dance, and I didn’t need to worry about men. Didn’t need to worry about Mama, or the bloodstain on her dress, or how her eyes bulged when she died. Didn’t need to worry about the beautiful man I had to kill.
Joy coursed through my veins, the music of the spheres, and I could dance and dance. My feet pounded the snow, harder and harder. Frantic now, whirling, snow spinning around me. So fast…
My feet slammed the cold earth, the euphoria faded, and I didn’t feel a thing now. Numb through my body.
It was just me and the winter dance here, me and the wild melody of the witch music. Thoughts of sea glass and burning cities faded to icy stillness.
Music screeched in my ears, and I threw my arms above my head as I spun. My feet kicked up snowflakes. I whirled and whirled to the beat of the music, until the strength started draining from my body.
Now, the music seemed too loud, my feet cold in the snow. Gods, I wanted to stop dancing.
Why wouldn’t my feet stop moving? A sense of fatigue ate through the numbness, muscles shrieking. As I twirled, my hair whipped around my head, into my eyes. Sharp cold spread through my fingers, my toes, like they were blackening with ice.
At least I couldn’t feel my heart breaking anymore.
Someone was shouting my name, that deep, velvety voice undercut with steel. I smelled him—sweet and dark. I felt the chasm in his chest as he called to me.
Salem.
The steady beat of his music replaced the wildness of the witch song. Slowly, the urge to dance started to fade in me, and my limbs began to pump with warm blood again. My feet stilled on the cold ground. I caught my breath, feeling like my magic had burned out. I’d need time to recharge before I had my strength again.
As my vision cleared. I spotted the witches again in the distance, between the trees. A few swooped above me, ragged vultures above the branches.
They could fly?
My heart thundered. On the ground, they’d surrounded Salem, shrieking as they ripped into him with their claws, pulling his wings apart, blood and feathers raining around them.
No.
A wild flame of protectiveness flickered in me… odd. Considering I planned to kill him.