"The Indigo Court has risen. The Hunt has begun. All of my enemies, tremble with desire, and let your hearts fear."
Rhiannon crumpled into Leo's arms and he braced her up as she began to regain consciousness.
I stared at the forest. What the hell was the Indigo Court? As the breeze stirred the fern fronds near my feet, scattering snow from their leaves, something sparkling from beneath one of the maidenhair ferns caught my attention. Quietly, I knelt down to pick it up. A crescent moon necklace in white gold, and on the back, one engraved word: Heather.
Another look at the snow-shrouded ground showed droplets of blood near where the necklace had rested. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that whatever was hiding in these woods had kidnapped my aunt. The question wasn't Where was she, but Was she alive?
I squatted on my heels beside the blood, fingering the leaves around it. The snow was compact, new snow hadn't managed to cover it yet, and I found several footprints. They were the right size and shape for my aunt's boots.
"What is it?" Leo knelt beside me.
I glanced over my shoulder. "Trouble. That's what." I stood up, wiping my hands on my jeans. Rhiannon was standing on her own, looking pale but composed. "You okay?"
She nodded. "What just happened?"
"You fell into a trance," Leo said. "I recognized the signs. What the hell is the Indigo Court? And what's the Hunt?"
"I don't know." I looked at my cousin. "Do you remember anything you said? Any images that might have been running through your mind when you were channeling whoever that was?"
Rhiannon rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead, squinting in concentration. "I think . . . I remember seeing something. But I'm not sure what to make of it. I was standing in a forest that was bathed in dark blue. The silhouettes of the trees were silver and barren . . . surreal. Real, but yet, not quite. And there were nets . . . webs? . . . stretching through the branches."
Just where had she been?
"Anything else?"
"Yes," she said softly. "A woman was standing there. A tall, thin woman. Her arms reminded me of a spider's legs, all jointy and spindly. She was dressed in a diaphanous gown. The woman stretched out her arms and a cloud of sparkling mist rose from her body."
Rhiannon hugged herself. "She looked at me, and when she smiled, her teeth were sharp, like tiny needles. She had black eyes--like a vampire's--except there was a swirl of stars in them. Her hair was long and black, and she wore a silver circlet on her head. When she saw me, she crooked her finger and said, 'Join us.' And the horrible thing is . . . I wanted to. I wanted to go to her."
I stared at her. "I don't like the direction this is taking."
"What's that?" Rhiannon pointed to my hand.
I glanced down. For a moment, I'd forgotten that I was holding Aunt Heather's necklace. I silently handed it over to her.
"This is my mother's necklace," she said softly. "Where did you find it?"
"By the fern." I shook my head, warning her back. "There's blood there. Not much but . . . I think . . ."
"They've got her." Leo winced. "Just like Elise. Whoever's doing this, they're systematically getting rid of the Society. Which means all the magic-born around here may be in danger. But why?"
"They aren't just taking the magic-born. People from all walks of life are disappearing." Rhiannon frowned. "Heather was keeping tabs on the disappearances. The strange thing is, the cops haven't been doing anything--they keep hemming and hawing, stalling. I'd think they were in on it but . . . that sounds outrageous. Maybe they're being influenced, though."
"Which means at best, they may ignore us. At worst, they may hinder us. What do you guys think? Should we head into the forest? Look for Heather?" I stared at the trees, knowing in my gut that we wouldn't find any sign of my aunt. Whatever--whoever--had her, wouldn't leave us a trail of breadcrumbs. And we might encounter more of the creatures like the one that had attacked me.
Rhiannon stared up at the treetops, a single tear running down her cheek. "There's nothing we can do for her right now. If we go looking for trouble, we're bound to find it, and we aren't prepared. We'd better talk this through before charging off on a rescue mission. Find out what my vision meant, if we can. See if LeAnn will help us. You need to meet with the lawyer. Maybe Marta had something among her supplies that will help us."
Leo nodded and put his arm around her shoulder, kissing her gently on the cheek as they turned back to the house. I paused.
"I'll catch up. I'm going to send out the word for Grieve first." When they gave me a worried look, I reassured them. "I'll be careful. I promise."
Leo shrugged, leading Rhiannon toward the house. I turned back to the wood and took one step onto the path, feeling the hush descend the moment I crossed the border.
I closed my eyes, praying that the creep-show Fae who had attacked me was long gone. After a moment, I caught the scent of a passing breeze and focused on tapping into the slipstream. For a moment, everything seemed normal and then, the next thing I knew, something yanked me onto the breeze and I went hurtling through the woods at a breakneck speed, like an otter caught in the roaring current of a powerful river.
The trees, the undergrowth, the path were all a blur as I sped along, buffeted like a leaf in the wind. I tried to disentangle myself from the current, but found myself wrestling with something holding me tight. And then I caught sight of a face, carved in ice, captured in a haze of mist. A snow Elemental, with concave eyes and a crazed laugh on its lips.
Let me go. Please let me go . . .
The lace-winged creature tightened its grip, squeezing me so hard I thought a rib might break. Then, with another laugh, it let go and I tumbled toward the ground, flailing as I went. We'd been high in the canopy--I was going to break my neck. But as I careened toward the forest floor, my fall slowed and, like a feather, I drifted back down and . . .
. . . back into my body.
Blinking, I looked around. I was right where I'd been standing when the Elemental caught me up.
You mustn't stay here. That one is old, and I can't fight his strength. This is his territory. If he took you body as well as soul, I couldn't stop him. Ulean's whisper cloaked me like velvet fog.
Shivering, not understanding what had just happened, I cautiously forced a thought into the next wisp of breeze floating past. Grieve, Chatter. We need you. My aunt has disappeared. Something in the woods took her. Please, help us.When there was no answer, I turned and hurried back to the house. I didn't have to look back to know that the owl was watching me from high in one of the cedars as I raced across the lawn.
Chapter 4
A quick call to LeAnn proved our fears.
"I can't help you," she said over the speakerphone. "I wish I could but I have my baby to think of. I'm sorry, but I've resigned from what there is left of the local Society. It's over, Rhiannon. Your mother, along with Elise and the others, they're probably dead. I suggest you get the hell out of Dodge while you can. By tomorrow, my family will be two hundred miles away, and safe." She hung up without even saying good-bye.
"That's it." Rhiannon dropped onto the sofa. "Tyne is Marta's grandson--he might help us but I don't have any clue of where he is. And Rupert wasn't at home when I called him. Oh man, I'm tired."
"Let me make some tea for us." I found my way around the kitchen, glad Leo was here to help. Rhiannon's slip into trance freaked me out and whoever the hell the Indigo Court was, I didn't want them mucking inside my cousin's head.
When the tea finished steeping, I carried the tray to the living room and sat near the window, steaming cup in hand as I stared out at the woodland.
"What are you thinking?" Rhiannon sipped her tea, and some of the tension fell away from her face.
"I'm thinking I need to get my ass back out there to find Grieve."
"I'm sorry, Cicely. This isn't fair. You just got home this morning, you haven't even had a chance to unpack."
"Not a problem. I'm used to living out of my car. And when Krystal was alive, we were always on the run. This is nothing compared to nights when we were trying to get out of this city or that before the goons she hooked up with found us to collect on her drug debts."
Memories of dark nights spent running through back alleys, trying to get to the freeway so we could hitch another ride to another city, flooded my mind. I'd learned early how to cage rides, and more than once Ulean had protected me from the rapists and serial killers who prowled the highways.
"I can't begin to understand the life she put you through," Rhiannon said. "Heather wanted to bring you back more than once, but every time she talked to Krystal, she'd get off the phone crying because your mother was such a basket case and wouldn't let you come home. And by the time you did . . ."
"I felt obligated to go back to help my mother. She trained me well with guilt. I wanted to stay every time I came home for a visit. Hell, I know Heather did everything she could short of kidnapping me. But I'm here, now. That's what counts."
I set down my teacup and shrugged back into my jacket. "Call the lawyer and make an appointment for me later today, if possible. Tomorrow, if not. I'm going in search of Grieve. If I'm not back in an hour, come to the edge of the wood and call my name, but whatever you do, don't step inside."
Leo nodded. "Got it. And Cicely--be careful. Your cousin needs you."
"You're really going out there?" Rhiannon pushed herself to her feet.
"Yeah. I'll be careful," I said, zipping up my jacket.
"Do you have a pair of gloves I could wear? I didn't count on snow."
Rhiannon handed me a leather pair of gloves and a scarf. "Bundle up, it's cold out there. And please, be careful. I don't want to lose you, too."
Before I headed outside, I ran upstairs and grabbed my switchblade. Highly illegal to carry but I didn't give a damn. I'd learned early that protecting myself was worth getting ragged on by the police if they caught me. As I stepped out onto the porch, Rhiannon was on the phone, talking to the lawyer.
The snow had let up, the clouds parting just enough to show the moon rising, full and round in the afternoon sky. The air was ripe with the tang of ozone that presaged a hard winter storm.
I crossed the yard. When I was little, Rhiannon and I weren't supposed to go into the ravine alone, but we always found a way to sneak off without being caught. I suspected my aunt always knew, but she never said anything.
The glade didn't have an official name. Huge, it sprawled for a good twenty miles, winding its way through the foothills of the western Cascades that bordered the back end of New Forest, Washington.
Grieve had called the thicket the Golden Wood but I thought of it as spider heaven. In spring, summer, and fall, golden and white orb weavers hung thick in the copse, spinning their webs from tree branch to bush to giant fern, a thick lacy net for catching flies and mosquitoes and the occasional dragonfly.
I jammed my hands in the pockets of my jeans as I came to the edge of the lawn and glanced back at the house. Rhiannon was sitting in the living room at Heather's desk as she spoke on the phone, illuminated by the light spilling out from the bay window. I stared at her through narrowed eyes. For some reason, the realization that I could see her so clearly from here made me nervous, as if I were a hunter, watching a doe through a rifle scope.
Taking a deep breath, I shook off the feeling and approached the edge of the ravine, my boots squeaking on the powdery snow. The undergrowth thickened, rich with bracken and brambles, and maidenhair ferns stood half as tall as I. Every sound grew muffled as I stepped into the shelter of the towering firs. I let out a long breath, glancing around. Nothing jumped out at me, or caught me up, and I took another step, then another.
Dim light splashed through the trees, making for an eerie play of shadow puppets against the falling leaves and trunks. My boots scrunched along the trail as I scrambled my way down the overgrown path leading into the heart of the ravine. Pausing, I closed my eyes and listened.
At first all I could hear was the scuffle of small animals rustling through the brush and the call of birdsong that echoed in the frozen air. After a moment, I caught the cadence of wind and let my mind roam.
There--voices from off to my right.
"Grieve?" I whispered his name, sending it along the slipstream. It had been a while since I'd tried to harness the breeze this way. There wasn't much call for it in the city, but here . . . here, everything came streaming back.
After a moment, I whispered his name again. "Grieve, are you here? Are you really still here?"
Never hurry. Grieve's voice echoed in my memory. Give it time. Don't try so hard--I know it's hard to be patient when you're still so young, but you'll need these skills, Cicely. You'll need them as you grow up.
He'd known, I thought. He'd known that I was leaving soon, and he'd tried to prepare me.
Another pause. Then, slowly, the wind picked up, carrying the sounds of arguing headed my way. Before I could blink, two men stood beside me.
My heart thudded in my chest and I wanted to cry. It had been so long, so many years, and yet--here he was. Grieve . . . it was Grieve. And Chatter stood beside him. Both gorgeous and mesmerizing.
Olive-skinned, Grieve and Chatter had slanted eyes and their chins were sharp and narrow, as if the flesh had been stretched taut across their faces. Grieve had a thick head of platinum hair that curled down his back, while Chatter--slightly stockier--wore his hair in a raven-black ponytail. They were dressed in camo jeans. Tight, form-fitting jeans and long dusters that looked oh so hot.