“I already provided the Guardians with the main spell, but I will have the Council search through all our records. Perhaps there is something we overlooked.”
“Thank you, Councilman. As always, our best chance of survival lies in working together.”
“Agreed, Kiri. When do you leave?”
“At first light,” Von replied. “We’ll take the night to prepare and travel by Kaelpas stone in the morning.”
Just that easily the plan was set. Suddenly there didn’t seem to be much else to say. The mood shifted from heated debate to quiet contemplation. Depending on what they discovered at the citadel, all of this could be over in a matter of days . . . maybe even hours now that Helena was with them once more.
For the first time in months, Effie felt optimistic about the outcome of this war. Between her newly acquired Guardian abilities, Lucian’s steady presence, and Helena’s return, they were as ready as they could ever be for the battles to come.
There was little doubt in her mind that’s where they were heading—into battle.
After all, this was still a war . . . and the stakes had never been higher.
Kieran’s eyes danced beneath his eyelids as he dreamed. His sleep was restless, the dreams far from peaceful. Even now his fingers twitched as if staving off invisible foes.
After days of digging for fragments of the gate, his search was more trickle than flood, and it was weighing on him. There was no escape from his failure. Not even in sleep.
A man’s voice sounded in his mind. Cruel yet undeniably sensual. No matter where he cast his eyes, Kieran could manage to make out no more than a towering shape concealed by shadows.
The man was speaking, and yet it was not to him. There was another here. A woman. She was kneeling in the center of some sort of cathedral, the light of the moon surrounding her with its milky glow through a massive circular window high in the wall behind what could only be an altar.
She was wearing a hood, her face shrouded, and yet Kieran knew the timbre of her voice. It was melodic, in the way that things born of the wild were melodic. He could easily picture the rustle of leaves, and the dappled play of light filtering down into an ancient forest. She was a child of the woods, a daughter of night, a huntress.
“You should not be here,” she said, steel lacing the words.
Kieran’s heart began to race. Did she speak to him? Could she see him? But no . . . it was the other one she spoke to.
“It is not for you to decide,” the man replied, thunder rolling through his voice.
Kieran felt an answering tremor work its way through him. He may not be able to see the man, but he was not immune to his considerable power.
“This world is not your own. You are an intruder.”
The mysterious man’s voice cracked like a whip. “This and every world is mine for the taking. I own everything.”
“Claiming ownership does not mean you actually possess anything. Some things can never truly be owned. Have you learned nothing these past years?”
If Kieran had a physical body his knees would have been weak. How was it this woman showed absolutely no fear?
“Perhaps the real issue is that you have forgotten,” he said, the anger in his voice unmistakable.
“My people never forget.”
“Oh? Then how is it we find ourselves here?”
Her answer was immediate. “Wounded pride and an inability to admit defeat.”
“Yes,” the man crooned, and the shadows trembled. “Never has there been anything more delicious than breaking one down to the basest of human instincts. Mortals are so predictable when you know which strings to play.”
The darkness rippled once more, and when the voice next spoke, Kieran knew it was speaking directly to him.
“I have one last job for you. In order for us to complete what we’ve started, you need to return to the place where it all began.”
Fear surged through Kieran, closing his throat and making it impossible to voice the questions racing within his mind.
“Bring me that which I seek, and this will all be nothing more than a dream. Fail, and well . . . trust me when I say, you really don’t want to find out what happens if you fail.”
Finally, the shadows shifted, peeling away to reveal the last face he ever expected to find.
His own.
Chapter 26
Effie closed the door behind her and leaned against it with a low groan.
“You okay?” Lucian asked, looking up from the boots he was in the middle of untying.
She nodded, giving him a tired smile.
“Side effects of your vision?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Effie said slowly, making her way over to their bed. “The vision was only mildly disorienting. For once it didn’t feel like my head was about to explode. I wonder if that has anything to do with being a Guardian now,” she mused, turning back to face him when he didn’t immediately weigh in on the idea.
“You going to tell me why you lied to them?” Lucian asked instead, his head tilted as he stared down at her. There was no censure in his eyes, only curiosity.
Pangs of guilt gnawed at her. She should have known he wasn’t going to let her get away with that. “It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly.”
He lifted a brow.
“Everything I told them was true. I just modified one of the details . . .” she trailed off, trying to find a way to explain the bone-deep certainty that it was not yet time to make public all that the Mother had revealed to her.
Lucian moved closer, his hand lifting to smooth the crease that had formed between her brows. “If your instincts are telling you to keep it to yourself, you should trust them. They have not led you astray before.”
As she considered his words, Effie realized that the thought of revealing her vision in full to Lucian was causing none of the same warning bells to sound off within her. He was not the one she needed to tread carefully with.
“No,” she murmured, “I think you should hear this. Lucian, it wasn’t my grandmother that appeared to me. It was the Mother.”
His eyes flared, and he went very still. “The Mother?”
Effie nodded. “Everything I shared with the others was true. She said the Shadow Years were not her doing, and that the Chosen had misunderstood Her warnings. That everything that happened to me needed to, including my becoming a Guardian, so that for the first time She could deliver Her warning in person. It was the only way She could directly communicate with me. She said that I was Her Voice.”
Lucian’s eyes never left hers, and if not for the thrum of tension pulsing through her along their link, she wouldn’t have had any idea how he was taking her news. His face was completely blank.
He finally blinked, running a thumb along her lips as his expression turned serious. Threads of worry wove themselves through her, replacing the tension.
Effie reached out, his stubble prickling her palm as she pressed it against his cheek. “What’s wrong?”
Connected as they were now, there was no way for him to pretend everything was fine. His eyes darkened, reminding her of a storm rolling in from the horizon. The danger was heading straight toward them, and all they could do was hope to outrun it.
He let out a soft breath and rested his forehead against hers, his eyes briefly closing. “For Her to appear to you in person, to make a point to warn you about what’s coming . . . it does not fill me with ease. I don’t know what’s waiting for us at the citadel. Hardly anything was left standing, but—” Lucian broke off and shook his head. “I just have a bad feeling.”