Shadow Rising (The Shadow World Book 7)

by Dianne Sylvan

  Nods all around.

  The Witch took a moment, breathing deeply, eyes closing as she gathered her power around her.

  Miranda wasn’t sure what to do, but she felt David’s fingers lace in hers, and she held on tightly. The last time something like this had happened, he’d gotten back his memories of death and his first meeting with Persephone. It hadn’t been dangerous for them, but it had been its own kind of trauma having to relive it all and then realize that the only way the Pair could move forward together was as Thirdborn. What would this mean?

  Stella picked up a knife and a silver goblet. “I need a few drops of blood from each of you,” she said. “It’s not binding—it’s to make sure the gateway recognizes you, kind of like the wards on the room.”

  She moved from Pair to Pair, quickly and efficiently nicking their fingers and collecting a couple of dark ruby drops from each. They’d all had introductions earlier before she’d started casting the Circle, so at least everyone was familiar with each other. Stella had long ago lost the awe that most people had in the presence of Signets, but still, being surrounded by them like this had to be a bit strange, in her Sight if nothing else. What did she See when she looked at all of them together?

  Miranda took her hand and held it a second before letting her take the Queen’s blood. She met Stella’s eyes and smiled, trying to put as much love and appreciation into that one look as she could, and to her surprise there was the faint shine of tears in Stella’s eyes as she gripped Miranda’s wrist with one hand and cut her with the other.

  Stella had another smile for Nico, who leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers. Miranda saw Stella’s lip quiver just the tiniest bit…but in a mere second the expression was covered up, and Stella was back to work, returning to the altar and setting the cup down next to a cast iron cauldron.

  She lit a match and dropped it into the cauldron, igniting whatever was waiting inside; flames leapt up and banished the shadows from the room.

  “Everyone let your eyes fix on the flames,” Stella said. “Stare into them until the fire dies—concentrate on the light, don’t look away. Once I do the incantation things might get weird, like you’re Misting only worse, so it’s best to stay focused on the fire so you don’t fall over or throw up on the Goddess or anything.”

  David chuckled next to her, and Miranda smiled too, but they both did as they were told, and Miranda let her vision fill with the leaping flames, pretending for a moment she was Cora and the fire was her friend and companion. The light was blindingly bright but didn’t hurt her eyes the way man-made light did; it would burn at a touch but not at a distance like the sun. She watched it dance, and twist, and somewhere outside her immediate attention she heard Stella begin to speak.

  Miranda knew the incantation was in ancient Elvish, and didn’t even try to translate it—none of them spoke it well enough to pass it among them psychically the way they had modern Elvish, so only about half of it would make sense to her without serious study anyway. It sounded like music, though, especially with the energy of the room beginning to rise along with it, and Stella had a lovely, if untrained, singing voice that wound through the language with practiced ease.

  Miranda felt the room begin to change, the air heating, folding on itself, and she smelled burning blood—Stella must have poured theirs into the fire. The smell of blood became overpowering, and it must have been even more intense up by the altar, as Stella faltered in her intonation for a second before taking a shaky breath and resuming.

  Somewhere within her, Miranda could feel the Dark Web rising, and she opened herself to it. She could feel David’s power twining through hers, and Nico and Dev’s reaching toward them; as their energy sought each other’s, the other two Pairs were drawn in, a slow current of energy moving around the Circle from one to another, focusing in the Signets themselves. She could feel the stone at her throat growing hotter and hotter, and knew it must be brightening—they all were, all changing color to red, then to white, as power flooded through them, Signet to Signet to Signet over and over, becoming a whirlpool, spinning, spinning…

  Miranda could feel the power filling the Circle, and she understood then what it was doing: the Circle was a generator, creating a vortex that bound all eight of them and could, with the right push in the right direction, destroy…create…decimate… renew…creation and destruction were a part of what they were, what they had been made for, and it was all right here, in the strands of the Dark Web that connected them all and twisted and braided until the power had grown so high, so fast, there was no containing it, no way to—

  She didn’t know what signal she was waiting for, or how she knew it was time, but there was a soft sound within the Circle…a gasp? …and Miranda felt everyone release the power at the same time. It flooded the Circle and filled it, and she felt it flowing out, as if the altar was a drain and everything they had, everything they were made of rushed out, out, out—

  The fire went out.

  Miranda felt reality warp around her, and yes, it felt something like Misting, but that was like comparing a kitchen tap to a roaring waterfall. She didn’t know if her body was moving, but it felt like her soul was sucked out of her body…like dying…she fought against it at first, and felt the others doing the same, fighting to live, to get free.

  But within a heartbeat the panic evaporated as darkness, soft and beguiling, washed through her. The fear of death faded into nothingness, and she knew this place she was in was beyond death, beyond fear.

  Shadows moved around her and through her, lifting her up. She was safe…so safe. She didn’t know where the others were, but she knew they were with her somehow, all of them holding each other even though they had to take this part of the journey alone.

  She felt the ground beneath her feet.

  The darkness gradually subsided like water, leaving her aware of herself standing up, and aware of the fact that she was definitely not still in the Haven.

  Instead, there was a forest at night, surrounding a clearing at whose edge she had arrived. The sky held no Moon, but she could see by the light of the millions of stars moving overhead. She stared up at them for a moment watching them shimmer and turn; every few breaths the sky would ripple like someone had stuck a finger in it.

  Finally, she looked down at the clearing. None of the others were here, but Miranda knew they were safe; for now, the only thing to do was go forward.

  She could see things moving in the trees…not animals, but pale watery lights, vaguely human-shaped. They drifted among the trees in a dream of peace, and she could sense that peace, a kind of relief, the sense of a burden set down, of walking free.

  The dead. She was seeing the dead.

  Did they stay here forever? She wondered. Or was this quiet, peaceful place with its soft breeze and endless starlight only a temporary reprieve? Did they remember themselves? Or anything?

  She watched them for a long moment, feeling a little of that relief herself. If this was it, if that’s what death was, it didn’t seem so bad. It was getting there that was the horror, the grief. Leaving everything behind, being afraid, being in pain…none of that remained here.

  Miranda walked into the clearing, unsure what else to do, and felt eyes upon her. It must be strange for the souls in the forest to see her here; or maybe they’d been expecting her.

  Something moved off to her right, and she turned toward it, her hand automatically reaching for the hilt of her sword. To her surprise it was there. She hadn’t come into the Circle armed; none of them had. But looking down at herself she was dressed as she would be any night as Queen, in black and a long coat and all her weapons, Signet glowing red.

  She saw the mist that moved along the ground begin to swirl around itself, and a faint light seemed to kindle within it. More mist and shadows flowed into the spiral, and it slowly grew taller, much like the power they’d raised in the Circle but gentler, without any of that urgency.

  The col
umn of shadow began to take form, and solidified into a woman, her features emerging slowly from the darkness. She stood tall and proud beneath the starlight. Hair the color of old wine flowed down her back, and she wore a gown made of shadows and spider’s webs, threads of the Dark Web itself, strands of dreams and nightmares woven into her cloak.

  A deep red light shone at her throat, and the setting of an amulet formed around it.

  Last to take shape were her eyes: they were black and fathomless, with neither pupil nor iris, as black as eternity, full of stars like the sky.

  She smiled.

  In that smile, Miranda felt a wave of love so endless she almost couldn’t bear it; she found herself kneeling, overcome, hands pressing into the cool, damp grass that wasn’t grass.

  A hand touched her head. Again, that love washed through her, along with strength more vast and beautiful than anything she’d ever felt.

  “Rise, child,” Persephone said.

  Miranda looked up into those eyes and tried to say something…anything. She couldn’t. All she could do was stand.

  “I know You,” Miranda finally managed in a hoarse whisper. “I dreamed You.”

  “You did indeed.”

  Her voice was a resonant contralto, full of contradictions like everything else about Her: It was hollow, kissed with the cold wind over a graveyard, but also vibrantly alive with the rush of an owl’s wings and the cautious steps of deer into a moonlit meadow.

  And, beyond her, there were ravens.

  There were ravens in the trees, watching Miranda through glittering black eyes. There were ravens in Her gown, sometimes only shapes and sometimes taking flight.

  Standing in front of a Being like this, any questions the Queen might have had seemed completely pointless. She found herself laughing.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Miranda told Her helplessly. “I had all these questions, things I had to know. None of it matters.”

  “It matters,” was the answer. “And you have a chance to ask them all. Tonight there is only one question that matters, and it is one I must ask you.”

  “Wait…” Something came to her, something she wasn’t sure she’d get an answer for but felt compelled to ask before it slipped her mind. She looked over at the forest, where those glowing spirits still dwelt. “Is…is Faith in there? And Jonathan?”

  The question felt like it came out of nowhere, but Persephone was unsurprised. “No,” She replied. “As you sensed, this place is not forever. It is a resting-place, where those who have passed over the Bridge can abide with Me for a time. But they must all move on eventually.”

  Miranda let out a long breath, eyes burning. “So Faith was here…and she was okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is she now?”

  A smile. “That is not for Me to tell you, child.”

  “Does everyone come here? Even humans?”

  “This place is for My children,” She said. “Human, immortal, it matters not. But there are other places…other paths.”

  “Other gods?”

  “Yes, and no. There are thousands of Us…and only One. Just as there are many strands but only one Web. We arise from the Web, from all that is, has been, or ever will be. And We wear many faces for Our children, out of love for them. We want to know you, and love you, as much as you want to know Us. Only your choices and actions keep you away.”

  “Or Morningstar.”

  “Yes. Long I was imprisoned, yet now I am free. The sacrifice made on this night will echo off all the worlds, and change everything. It begins with all of you, the brightest stars in My night, the greatest of My lineage.” She looked at Miranda with pride, and reached out to touch her face. “You will reshape the Shadow World, and through it the Day World, and your hands shall be Mine. But first you must make a choice.”

  Miranda felt the night around her shifting again, and between one breath and the next, they were no longer alone in the clearing.

  The rest of the Circle appeared from the darkness, all standing in the same places they had been back in the Haven. Jacob and Cora were clinging to each other, wide-eyed and pale; Olivia and Avi were both smiling. Deven looked like he’d been crying, as did Nico, but Nico’s face held only joy.

  Miranda felt David’s hand in hers again, and she grabbed sideways to put her arms around him. He stood silent, strong, steady; she looked up at his face, and he looked relaxed but purposeful. She could feel a calm surety radiating from her Prime.

  Persephone stood in the center of the Circle, looking at each of them as if they were the rarest and most precious treasure in the Universe. “You have come to Me tonight seeking knowledge and power. You have it now. Everything you need to know about the fight ahead of you…everything I can tell you…is in the Codex. The first Circle, your forbears, wrote down the Mysteries both for what would become the Order of Elysium and for you. When Morningstar imprisoned Me, your Mysteries were obscured, as they could not be performed without the Touch of My power. Now you will have that power. And each of you will have the ability to return to Me, here, to this room and this Forest of Spirits, whenever you have need of Me for counsel or comfort.”

  She lifted Her hand, and a cut appeared in Her wrist; dark blood trickled from it, and where it hit the ground, Miranda watched vines of energy growing out of the grass…strands of the Dark Web, born from Her blood.

  “All of this must come with a price,” She went on. “I ask not for your worship; if you revere me as My children have for centuries it is by your own will, by the call of your soul. I ask not for your obedience; you will have choices to make that I cannot make for you. I ask for something much simpler, and yet much, much more grave: Your lives. Each of you must offer your blood, and take Mine in return, and in so doing become more than any of your kind has ever been. Even those of you already Thirdborn must do this, for though you were transformed through My lineage, it is My blood alone that can truly remake you.”

  She paused, and Her eyes swept them all again, reading their uncertainty. With a nod, She said, “You fear the cost is too high…you fear the death-lust already visited upon four of you. But these are the terms: Life and death exist in balance, and that overall balance must be maintained. For each of you to live and wield My power, a life must be paid at each turn of the Moon. How that happens is up to you. But the power I offer is not a trifling thing. It is the power of darkness and death—Mine is a path of fire, children. To serve Me is to burn.”

  Now She smiled softly. “But you should know, your debt for the next month has been paid—a sacrifice was offered on your behalf during the ritual.”

  “What do you mean, paid?” David asked, shocked. “Who could have paid it?”

  Persephone looked out over Miranda’s shoulder, and Miranda and the others all followed Her gaze to the trees.

  Miranda’s heart shuddered in her chest with realization as one of the ghostly figures in the forest moved out from the trees. As it drifted closer, it took on a shape, and Miranda found herself crying, shaking her head.

  “No…no. Stella…”

  The ghost smiled at her. Her voice was calm, peaceful, but had that same wry edge it always had, even here. “It’s okay, Miranda. I knew what I signed up for.”

  Miranda turned back to Persephone. “You can’t do this!” she cried. “She can’t be dead—You can send her back! She deserves better than to die for us like this!”

  “I offered her a chance to return,” She replied, sounding for a moment as wry as Stella. “She refused.”

  “As a vampire,” Stella said. “And hell no.”

  “You could change your mind,” Miranda insisted. “We would take care of you. It doesn’t have to be…Stella, please, don’t do this. Don’t go.”

  “Oh, Miranda…”

  Stella came forward and put her arms around Miranda, and for a second, they were warm and solid, not those of a disembodied spirit, but of a real, living friend.

&nb
sp; “Knowing all of you has been amazing,” she said into Miranda’s hair. “I wouldn’t trade it for a hundred years. I know you’re going to blame yourself, but that’s not what I want. I made my own choice, and I need you to honor it…honor me…by doing what you’re here to do.”

  Finally Miranda nodded, barely able to speak. “You have my word.”

  Stella turned to Nico, who was also crying, but didn’t try to dissuade her. He only put his arms around the Witch, and they held each other for a long time.

  “I will always love you,” Nico whispered. “In every world and for all time.”

  “You too,” she said. “Don’t worry…I’m going to be fine. Better than fine.”

  Stella looked at Deven next and said only, “You know what you have to do now, right?”

  Deven sighed. “I do.”

  “Okay, good.” Stella smiled at all of them. “It’s time for me to go now. Miranda…take care of my dad, okay? He won’t understand. But tell him the truth. I had work to do, and it took me away, but it was important. And big. And he’d better not start drinking again or I’ll haunt his ass.”

  Miranda laughed through her tears and nodded. “I will.”

  Before any of them could say more, Stella turned away, and was gone. A moment later Miranda saw the light that had made up her image reappear in the trees, joining the other spirits at rest.

  They all turned back to Persephone, who was still waiting, blood still running from Her arm.

  “It is time,” She said. “Time for your own choice. Will you walk My path, risking all and serving all, though the price is high and the future uncertain? Will you take one another’s hands and My own, and dedicate yourselves to the Shadow World in a way that no Signet has in a thousand years? Or will you go your own way, alone?”

  Miranda glanced back at the trees, wondering if Stella was watching them, or if she trusted her friends to do the right thing. She could feel the weight of all those souls who had passed through this place just since she’d become a vampire…all the people, human and vampire, who had died in her Elite, or by Morningstar’s hand, and all those who stood to fall if she didn’t do what, in her heart, she knew she had been born to do.