The Nightmare Charade (29 page)

The vision shifted, the world blurring before my eyes. When it cleared, I saw that the scene had reset. Once again, Eli and I faced each other, our magic ready for the fight. Only this time, it wasn't hatred I felt, but an overwhelming sadness. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I fought him, but once again, he was no match for me and Bellanax. The final spell struck and he fell. I wanted to look away as the vision-me approached. I didn't want to see this again.

But this time, I dropped Bellanax to the ground as I approached. Then I straddled him and knelt on his chest, a Nightmare feeding. Only it was more than that. I wasn't just feeding—I was sending him into a forever sleep, as Nimue had sent Marrow. It was a different ending, yet the same as the first. I was killing him all over again—only more slowly this time, condemning us both to a long life together, but always separate.

Make it stop,
I wanted to scream, but as before I could do nothing but watch.

The vision shifted again, the dream resetting for a third time. We faced each other once more, only this time I felt neither hatred nor sadness, but a cold determination. When Eli raised his wand, ready to strike, I lowered Bellanax, opening myself up for the attack. Eli didn't hesitate. His first spell knocked me down. I fell backward, landing on my back. Bellanax flew out of my hand, skidding feet away. Eli went after it at once and picked it up. Then he approached me as I had approached him twice before. He raised the sword high above his head, blade pointed down. He struck. I felt the point touch my chest, the first pangs of pain, and then the world of the vision shattered around me like broken glass.

I found myself once more in the rec room of Flint Hall. Pain filled my chest, and it took me a moment to realize that I was sobbing. Tears wetted my face and chin. I couldn't stop crying.

Lady Elaine watched me, her expression hooded, but not unkind. She waited for me to get a hold of myself.

It had been so real. Even more real than a dream. And unlike a dream, that sense of realness wasn't fading. It was as if those emotions, those thoughts and memories, had been imprinted on my brain. Branded there with a red-hot iron like Corvus and his Borromean brand. I understood more than ever why Eli hadn't wanted me to see. It wasn't that he feared I would believe the vision—it was that he knew how it would make me feel. As he must've felt. As he was still feeling, I realized, remembering our latest shared dream—my body with a puncture wound through the chest—a sword wound.

It wasn't real
, I told myself.
It didn't happen.

Yet.

No!
I closed my eyes, fighting to gain control of my emotions. I reached for Bellanax, finding comfort in my indestructible companion.

Slowly, the emotions faded enough for me to open my eyes and draw a breath without sobbing. I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my sleeves, and faced Lady Elaine.

Clearing my throat, I asked, “If what you showed me was the future, then why were there three visions?”

Lady Elaine looked as if she'd been expecting the question. “There are always three. The future is never fixed, but always in flux until the moment it meets the present. One vision is for the first choice and one for the opposite. The third is for the in-between, the hidden, harder path.”

I stared at her, not understanding. I considered asking her to explain, but a more important point occurred to me. “If the future is in flux, then all three of them might've been false.”

Lady Elaine slowly shook her head. “All three share aspects that are certain. The situation is fixed—you and Eli opposed. Only the outcomes are in flux.”

The outcomes
. I considered the visions. In the first Eli would die by my hands. In the second I would condemn him to a life imprisoned in a dream, a slow death, once more at my hands.

And in the third, he kills me
.

Tears threatened once again. Three outcomes. Three choices. And in the end, which would I choose?

It was a question I never wanted to answer.

 

21

Sword Dreams

I didn't avoid Eli the next day, but I wanted to. It was an awful feeling, so at odds with the rest of me—the part that wanted to grab hold of him and never let go.

“Are you all right?” he said as I sat down beside him in the cafeteria for breakfast. We both knew he wasn't asking about my mother.

I nodded, but said nothing. I didn't trust my voice not to betray how far from okay I truly was.

Eli touched my shoulder. “It'll get easier. I promise.” He hesitated, his fingers pressing into my skin. “And we'll find your mom.”

I hoped both were true, but in the meantime, I needed to keep my mind occupied as much as possible, filling every second with something other than the memory of Lady Elaine's visions.

Fortunately, I had plenty to focus on. Knowing without a doubt that Marrow was involved changed things. Finding Titus's killer still mattered, but discovering more about Marrow was now the most pressing. When psionics rolled around, I was relieved to see Mr. Deverell was back. I wasted no time asking him if we could try the psychometry on the sword during our session that afternoon. Deverell agreed at once, despite how tired he looked. Whatever sickness he'd been dealing with the last few days had taken its toll.

When I arrived at his classroom after class, I immediately removed the glamour and placed the sword on the desk in front of him.

Deverell stared down at it, his expression a mixture of awe and fear. He looked up at me. “Are you sure you want me to help with the psychometry? If what you told me earlier is true, you might not need me for it anymore. Your bond with the sword has grown very strong indeed.”

“Yes, I'm sure,” I said, trying to make my voice firm. Although there was a strong part of me that didn't want to share anything about Bellanax with anyone, the bigger part of me understood this was too important to risk making a mistake. I knew from class that some objects were sensitive to psychometry. They would close up at the first hint of probing like a touch-me-not plant.

“All right.” Deverell's smile looked careworn. His handsome face was tired and drawn, but there was a glint of anticipation in his eyes. I shared the feeling. We were about to embark on a journey no one else had ever taken, to delve into the secrets of the most dangerous magickind of all time.

“How do we do this?” I asked, anxiously shifting my weight from foot to foot.

Deverell motioned to the sword. “We will form a mind-link, the
nousdesmos
we used last year. But we will both need to be touching the sword for the psychometry. Since I will be leading, I will need to have the bigger hold on it. With your permission, I will hold the hilt and then you will place your hands on mine, touching as much of the sword as possible.”

“Okay.” I waved at Bellanax. “You, uh, have my permission.”

Deverell inclined his head, then stretched his hand toward the sword. He moved slowly, carefully, his whole body rigid with wary tension.

“It's not going to bite you,” I said.

An eyebrow rose on Deverell's face, but he didn't look up, his gaze focused unblinkingly on Bellanax. “Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. Magical objects like this have a lot in common with wild animals. They can be predatorial, especially about their space and about their masters.”

“Huh, well, in that case, you look like you've done this before.”

He nodded, just once. “We used to catch snakes barehanded back home, just for fun.”

I laughed, nervously. “That's an interesting childhood.”

“About as exciting as it gets in the Mississippi bayou.” Deverell wrapped his fingers around the bone-handled hilt.

Mine
. The thought struck me hard, and I sucked in a breath.

Deverell picked up the sword, both hands on it now.

Mine. Mine. Mine
. It was all I could do not to wrench it free of his fingers.

“Are you all right?” Deverell asked. He'd finally moved his gaze off the sword and was now looking at me.

With an effort, I schooled my expression into something other than a scowl. “I'm fine. So I need to put my hands on yours?”

“Yes.” He turned toward me, still moving cautiously like before. “Just put them on top, with your fingers on the cross guard.”

I did as he asked, trying to ignore the awkward sensation of touching my teacher. My whole educational life I didn't think I'd ever done something like this. But the moment my hands were in place, the awkwardness vanished. Relief that I was in contact with Bellanax again took its place.

“Now,” Deverell said, “close your eyes and prepare for the
nousdesmos
. Let me know when you are ready.”

I did as he asked, taking a few moments to empty my mind, to make it open for the mind-link. It was surprisingly easy, given all the worries I had cluttering my thoughts. Then again, Deverell and I had done this before. For the first time in days, I felt at peace, safe.

“I'm ready.”

Deverell did not reply with words, but a moment later I felt his mind link to mine. Then leading me, he engaged the sword, prodding it to reveal its history to us, to share its memories. It took awhile, but eventually Bellanax began to project. That was the right word for it. It was as if a movie screen had appeared on the inside of my brain.

I saw an ancient forest, the trees large and the growth thick, completely unmarred by modern intrusion. One of the trees was taller and wider than the others, and it seemed to form the head of a circular clearing. The tree had a dark gaping hole at its base, wide enough for a man to stand inside of, like a wooden cave.

At first, I thought the clearing was empty, but then a woman appeared. She approached the tree, facing the hole. I could see only the back of her, long hair hanging in loose curls down to her waist. She wore a woolen gown of dark blue trimmed in gold silk. I watched her with a growing sense of recognition. But I couldn't be sure, not until she turned around.

She finally did a few seconds later.
Nimue
I thought, and I felt another mind answer, confirming this statement.
Bellanax,
I realized. I scanned the clearing, looking for the sword. It had to be here somewhere. This was its memory, after all. But aside from my great-great grandmother, the only other living thing was the black phoenix perched in the lowest bough of the holy tree. My heart quaked at the sight of it, and for a second, the image went blurry as I felt myself close to breaking away from the mind-link.

But Deverell's mind pressed against mine, strong and affirming. I felt his calm control wash over me.

Feeling more certain, I stared up at the giant bird. For the first time ever it did not look threatening as it sat there, preening itself. It looked younger and smaller than the black phoenix I had fought a year ago. And as it adjusted its position on the tree limb, I noticed that the red and plumage of its tail reached further up its back than I remembered, with a little gold showing underneath as well.

It's beautiful when it's not trying to kill you,
I thought, and for some reason the realization made me sad.

A stir of movement drew my eye away from the bird and back to the tree below. A dark shape was moving inside the hole in the tree, a human shape. It stepped forward like a living shadow, until it finally reached the edge of the hole and sunlight shone on a man's face.

Marrow
.

He looked exactly the same—black and silver on his head and beard, the same slight but fit build. He was a man both old and young at once, ageless.

“Welcome back, Ambrose,” Nimue said, relief shining on her face.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Nearly eleven months this time.” She motioned to the tree. “And that was with the help of the Great Oak's power.”

Marrow scowled, his hands clenching to fists. “So long. I need a way to make it faster.”

Nimue shook her head. “No. What you need is to stop this madness. Stop fighting and putting yourself in danger. Why must you constantly war? Why must you obsess over this vision of uniting the kinds against ordinaries? There are other ways than violence. This is the third time since I've known that you have needlessly died. Died and been reborn. It's not natural, Ambrose. It's wearing on you.” She paused. “It's
changing
you.”

His answering glare burned. “You know nothing. No death is needless. With each one I grow stronger, grow closer to all I've worked for.” He turned away from her, running hands through his graying hair. He wore a red tunic over black trousers, Bellanax sheathed at his side, The sword had lain next to him the entire time he slept, the entire time his body and soul had required to complete the resurrection.

“I need a way to shorten how long it takes,” Marrow said, “but it just keeps getting longer and
harder
.” He paused and turned his gaze toward the black phoenix, his expression one of reproach or perhaps disappointment.

We need to see more than this,
I thought, sending it out toward Deverell and Bellanax.
This is the Marrow I knew. But what did he look like before?

Immediately, the scene began to fade away and then blurred into something new. This time we were in a large circular room with thick stone walls. A castle tower, I realized, catching a glimpse of a battlement below through the nearby window, one complete with arrow slits. A single canopied bed stood in the middle of the room, the curtains drawn around it. Nimue sat beside the bed in a plush armchair with an embroidery frame in front of her.

For a moment nothing happened, and then the curtain began to move. Nimue stood up, pushing the frame aside. She reached for the curtain and drew it the rest of the way. Marrow's face peered out at her. A slow warm smile crossed his lips.