And then I realized what Hanna had said. “You’ve been here five years? And your son?” I glanced over at the cage where the silent boy lay sleeping.
“Kjell has been in that cage for five long years. He . . . it’s been a while since he said anything to me. He can no longer talk. I don’t even know if he understands me, though he likes it when I sing to him.” Her voice low, she cocked her head to one side, and silent tears traced down her cheeks.
I wanted to cry with her. For Hanna. For Kjell. For the dozens of women Hyto had murdered. For myself. For my loves, so far away. For all of the wrongs of the world. But the enormity of what I’d been through hit me like a punching bag, and I slumped at the table. “I’m sorry. I can’t take any more tonight. I need to sleep.”
Hanna led me over to a pallet—much softer than the one I’d woken up on.
“Sleep. Here, drink this. Five drops of it will deepen your rest but won’t make you groggy when you wake up.” She handed me a little bottle. “The Master would beat me if he knew I had this, but . . . I use it when I can’t stand being here, when I can’t face myself or what I do for him.”
I took the bottle and didn’t even hesitate. I needed the rest. I swallowed five drops of the bitter liquid. “Did he ever . . . has he raped you?”
She shook her head. “He needs me too much to subject me to that. The women he has captured . . . Camille, he not only abuses them, but he eats them afterward, in dragon form. The first, he tried to molest in his natural form and it split her apart. He didn’t try that again—he likes to play with his food before he eats. And it’s no fun if his prey dies so quickly. I’m not saying this to frighten you, but to warn you.”
“I know all about him,” I said. “Remember? He’s my husband’s father. And I know that unless I escape, the minute my husband comes here to save me, Hyto will kill me in front of him. Anything he can do to intensify the pain, he’ll do. I understand.”
And with that, I slid under the thick quilt that Hanna tucked over me and closed my eyes. A moment later, I felt her lips on my forehead, and it was like my mother had suddenly returned to give me her blessing. I didn’t say a word, but snuggled under the cover and immediately fell into a dark and deep slumber.
I was walking in a long, narrow tunnel that wound through the labyrinth for what seemed like forever. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew I was wandering on the astral in my sleep, and that knowledge comforted me. I began to look for any sign of life—anybody who might be able to help me.
And then I was running. A shadow loomed behind me and, terrified it might be Hyto, I darted from side to side, looking for some cover, some place to hide. But the shadow stayed apace with me, and after a while, I turned to find that it was merely a reflection of myself.
“What do you want? Who are you? Why do you look like me?”
And then, I flashed—and was in the other body, staring at my bruised and aching self. “You know what I want,” I found myself saying. “You know why you’re running from me. Just admit it, because otherwise you’re going to stand in your own way.”
Blink, and back to myself. An ache stirred in my heart. “No, I don’t want to think about it. I just want to get out of this dream.”
My alter ego shrugged. “You can’t, not until you reclaim the part of yourself you’re rejecting. Not until you reclaim me. Think about it, Camille . . . think what the hell you’re doing.”
I hung my head. I knew, deep inside, what was going on. I didn’t want to face it—didn’t want to admit it.
“I . . . What do you want me to say?”
“The truth. Just fucking be honest with me—with yourself .”
I let out a shuddering breath. “Fine. You want honest? This is all my fault.”
“How? How the hell did you cause this?”
“If I hadn’t let Vanzir fuck me, then I wouldn’t have had the argument with Smoky, and Hyto wouldn’t have caught hold of me.” A bitter tang rose up in my mouth and my anger surprised me. “If I hadn’t enjoyed Vanzir, this wouldn’t have happened. Somehow—if I could have hated him for what happened . . . if I hadn’t been agreeable . . .”
“You mean if Vanzir had raped you . . . or if you had killed him, then Hyto wouldn’t have come looking for you? Or maybe, if you had let Vanzir feed off your mind, none of this would have happened?”
Apparently, I was really good at needling myself.
“Yes—no! I don’t know!” Frustrated, angry at myself—both sides of me—I leaned against a wall. “The argument over Vanzir led to my getting caught. This is all my fault.”
“You fucking know that’s not true—get it out of your head. Would you tell that to Delilah? Did Menolly deserve what she got because she couldn’t hold her position and fell right into the midst of Dredge’s lair? Did she?”
Angry now, furious that those words could even find their way into my voice—be it me, or an alternate me saying it—I lashed out.
“No! She didn’t deserve it. Nobody deserves it. And those women Hyto killed didn’t deserve it, either. And neither do I!”
“Then why are you harboring the secret fear that you do deserve it?” My alter ego was softer now, almost tearful.
I closed my eyes, hung my head. “I don’t know. Maybe . . . maybe it’s because I need somebody to be angry at, someone not out to kill me. I can’t fight back against Hyto. If I can’t scream at him . . . so who the hell can I scream at? Not at Hanna—she’s my only hope for help. And it’s not her fault, either. How can I deal with all this anger and fear and pain if I can’t get it outside myself?”
“What about your magic? Don’t ever forget you’re a witch. You’re a priestess for the Moon Mother. Doesn’t that count for something?”
A cool wind rushed over me and I opened my eyes to find myself standing in a wide barren field. I was on the astral—in spirit, but above me was the Moon and she was peeking down at me, reaching down with her glittering touch to wrap me in moonbeams from the faint sliver that glistened in the sky. The promise of hope, of love, of finding my way in the darkness enveloped me, and I clung to the dream, clung to the strands of possibility.
I held on to her promise for all I was worth. My magic . . . what spells could I cast that might help me? Death magic wasn’t going to do me any good—especially not without Morio—but perhaps . . .
Running through my repertoire of spells, I remembered the Summoning spell. I didn’t have any physical components, but maybe I didn’t need them. I was a priestess now—yes, untrained—but I had been chosen by the Moon Mother.
I closed my eyes and gathered all the energy I could from that faint sliver of light in the sky, and wove it between my fingers. Please, please don’t backfire on me now. Please help me. Please summon someone who can find me.
I thought of my husbands, of Morio and Smoky and Trillian. Longing for them, I searched for their energy and felt the edges of it, but couldn’t quite reach out enough. I looked for Chase, but he was gone and I silently wished him luck in getting off the astral, back home. And then—from a distance, I felt someone familiar.
Following the trail of energy, I started walking, then running at a pace only one of the Moon Mother’s chosen can manage. The Moon had my back and she was giving me strength. I soaked it in, directed it toward my injuries, bade her be with me in spirit as well as body.
Moon Mother, my great Lady, you know I will bear whatever I must bear with honor, but I beg of you, help me. Help me escape, help me destroy my enemies, help me save my family. Help me topple the evil that seeks to tear me limb from limb. Guide me, Mother of the Night, Lady of the Hunt. Hear my heart, hear my soul, let me rest my head on your breast.
A great energy surged through my spirit, and my speed increased. I raced like the wind, like the hounds of Hel were following me. My hair streamed back, and with each step, each fall of my feet into the mists, my determination increased. I would not let Hyto win. I would not blame myself for this. Vanzir and I had done what we needed to do, and there were just some things you could never undo, never change, so you learned to live with them.
The energy up ahead was coming at me full tilt now, and, overjoyed, I flew toward it, stumbling to a stop before a figure that I now recognized.
Vanzir.
“Vanzir! What are you doing here?”
He looked as startled as I felt. “I don’t know—I was out on guard duty and suddenly found myself here, running toward . . . I guess it was you.” His eyes spun and he hung his head. “I’m so fucking sorry, Camille. I wish I could take this all away . . . take it all back. How did you get away? Are you okay?”
I stared at him. “I’m not here in body. Vanzir, I’m trapped in the Northlands. Hyto has me.”
He nodded gravely. “I know he has you. We found the cloak and the mark on the tree. Smoky’s already gone to OW, searching for you. Shade and Rozurial are getting ready to leave for the Northlands, so hang on. They’re going to try to find you. Delilah and Menolly went to Grandmother Coyote—I’m not sure what happened because they just took off for there before I went out for a walk. Trillian and Shamas are staying home to protect the house and Morio and Iris and Maggie.”
“Crap. Smoky’s in Otherworld? Does he know I’m in the Northlands?”
Vanzir paled. “He’s headed for the Dragon Reaches for help. He doesn’t know exactly where you are, though. Smoky . . . oh Camille, he’s terrifying.”
“But you’re alive?”
With a sad laugh, he inclined his head. “When Smoky realized that you’d been captured, he sent for me. Suggested a truce. He blames himself, Camille. He’s in a terrible state—and that means he’s highly dangerous. When he found the tree . . . and your cloak . . . he ripped several of the trees out of the ground and burned them to cinders. He changed into his natural shape and would have trampled the entire forest if Trillian and Iris hadn’t stopped him.”
I sank to the ground. “I want to come home. I need to come home. Vanzir, Hyto is . . .” Looking up mutely, I pulled up my skirts to show him the bruising on my thighs. Then I pointed to the collar around my neck. “I don’t know how much longer he’ll let me live. He’s setting a trap for Smoky with me. You have to let Smoky know that it’s a trap to catch him. I’m near the Skirts of Hel, to the north. In a cavern high up the mountain.”
“You think the big lug doesn’t know that Hyto’s out to trap him? But that won’t stop him from coming for you. And may the gods save whoever gets in his way. He’ll kill anyone or anything to have you back.”
After a moment, Vanzir began to flicker. “I feel like I’m being pulled back. I’ve got to go, Camille. I can’t hold my place here. I don’t have my powers, but something happened to me tonight—something to do with the Triple Threat. It happened out on their land—something . . . I don’t know what—”
And then he vanished into the night, and I felt myself being drawn back to my body, but then before I reentered the labyrinth, I stopped, once again staring up at the sliver of the moon.
An ancient voice, resonating from the sky, showered down around me in a silver rain of whispers. “My daughter, I would save you if I could, but there is a destiny for all creatures, and this seems to be part of your fate. Your training, though—never forget your training. Remember you are my daughter, you are my child. I will always be with you, through the horrific and the joyful. I will always be watching, helping when I can, sending my love when I can’t.”
I began to cry—she was so sad, my Lady. I could hear it in her voice. I reached up toward the moon, wanting to go to her, wanting to ride the skies with the Hunt and forget everything and everyone in the lust of the chase.
But the moon disappeared, and I was once again walking back through the labyrinth. My alter ego waited, and I walked up to her and embraced her, and we became one. Feeling both stronger and terribly old, I continued walking till I came to my sleeping form.
It would be so much easier to cut the cord. But I knew now they were searching for me. The men who loved me, my family—they were doing everything they could. I couldn’t give up on them. And so I slid into my body and closed my eyes, and fell into a deep, dark slumber.
Shortly before dawn—although I could not tell anymore what time of day it was—Hanna woke me.
“Camille, wake up, wake up.”
I pushed myself to a sitting position, weary and aching but bolstered from the memory of what I’d found out. “What is it?”
“Hyto wants you. I’m to bathe you, feed you, and bring you to his chamber.” Her brow was furrowed and she bit her lip as I groaned. Despite the salve, I hurt—there was no getting around it.
But then I remembered meeting Vanzir the night before and I steeled myself. They were hunting for me. I could do this. I could survive.
After another soak in the tub, which helped ease out my muscles, and another application of the salve to prevent infection, she handed me a thin, sheer skirt. No underwear—not even a thong, no top.
I looked at her mutely and she shrugged. “This is what he requested you wear.”
“It’s like a freakin’ tutu. He’s determined to humiliate me.”
And the scary thought was, he still might be able to do it. I felt stronger now, even with the hell he’d put me through the day before, but another reaming like that, or worse . . . I couldn’t guarantee I’d last through the pain.