Shadowstorm (The Shadow World Book 6)

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Shadowstorm (The Shadow World Book 6) Page 36

by Dianne Sylvan


  Meanwhile in front of her, Deven mirrored her position, Nico curled up against his back asleep with a tiny smile on his face. She’d so rarely seen the Elf smile, and she’d been afraid after finding out Kai’s fate he would completely break down, but she had underestimated the overwhelming, all-consuming rush of falling completely and incandescently in love.

  The Pair hadn’t even come out of Deven’s bedroom for two days. Miranda had practically squealed like a schoolgirl when she realized what was happening on their side of the bond, and she and David had high-fived.

  And that was before she’d had a chance to watch the way they touched each other. Merely thinking about the afternoon they’d all just spent together sent delighted shivers through her.

  Her eyes burned watching them sleep. They were so happy. All of them were, just for a minute. The outside world would intrude again so soon, and the world would go back to tearing itself apart, but for a few precious days they’d been able to let go of the sorrow and anger and responsibility and just…be.

  After a minute she became aware of the sound of purring, and looked around for Jean Grey, who sounded like she was up on the bed, and probably behind her; she very slowly moved her head to look back over her shoulder. She had to stifle a giggle: the cat was actually resting on David’s hip, eyes closed, kneading the comforter that was thankfully thick enough that he didn’t feel her claws.

  Miranda turned back over. She had to wonder what the cat thought about the additional people periodically spending the day in what the cat no doubt considered her bed. Did it annoy her, or did she just relish the extra hands available to pet her?

  The Queen herself would definitely agree with the latter.

  She saw Deven’s eyelashes flutter, and he opened them slowly. There was nothing predatory in his eyes this time—just sleepy, even peaceful. He smiled and slid one hand over to touch her face.

  As he slipped back into slumber she took his hand and held it to her chest. It twisted in her grasp until the palm was flat to her skin—feeling her heartbeat, she realized. Curious, Miranda reached down with her other hand to take hold of David’s arm and pressed her fingers against his wrist until she could feel the pulse beneath. It was strangely reassuring, all the more because, if she listened, she could hear all four of their hearts in the darkness…all steady and strong. Being able to hold onto it made her feel safe, and the hands gently touching her for the same reason made her feel not strangled…but cherished.

  “Go back to sleep, my Queen,” she heard David murmur into her hair. “All is well for now.”

  Miranda smiled, closing her eyes. Yes. Yes, it was.

  Epilogue

  Back again.

  The portal opened and closed without any fanfare. There was no one on the empty, wind-swept cliff to notice.

  Miranda remembered the sound of the wind among the redwoods, the trees whispering and laughing to each other down below her line of sight. It hadn’t been long since she had stood here, but that visit had been for her own grief—this was more important.

  She stood still, watching, taking David’s hand. He looked stricken as he stared at the bare ruin of a place he’d once called home. The last time he’d been here was two years ago, when the central building was in ruins but some of the surrounding structures still stood. It was one thing to know the whole property had been razed, another to see it like this, just an empty parcel of land overlooking the forest.

  As soon as they landed, Deven walked off into the misty, cold night—he knew exactly where he was going. Nico hesitated a moment, not wanting to intrude, but finally he looked over at Miranda, who gave him a slight nod.

  Steeling himself, Nico followed his Prime.

  She and David exchanged a look and then followed him.

  Miranda also knew where they were going, and sure enough soon she saw the memorial, exactly as she’d seen it last time.

  She grabbed Nico’s arm with one hand and David’s with the other, willing them both to hang back for a moment. They understood and waited.

  She wished she could see Dev’s expression, standing there, looking at all the tokens and letters that had been left, not just for the murdered Elite and servants, but for Jonathan, and for him. He could have pretended that his entire life here was just a waking dream, since he hadn’t seen what was left of it until now. Now…now it was real, and it was forever.

  All she could see was a silhouette whose head was bowed. They were all practically holding their breath, afraid to break the silence.

  After a long moment, Deven lowered himself to his knees in front of the memorial. David’s hand tightened in hers—he was waiting, she realized, for her to give the okay to approach. She had to smile at that.

  She tugged sideways and, little by little, they moved off to the right to see better without interrupting. Nico drew his hand back from hers—if anyone should go first, he should, but he stayed where he was a minute longer.

  From the side she could see that Deven’s eyes were dry, but his face bore sorrow and longing deep enough to break her heart. He reached out a hand and carefully plucked a sprig of evergreen needles, brown and sodden, from the bottle of whiskey that had been left for Jonathan. Then, he took something out of his coat pocket and pressed it down into the dirt; it was too small to see what it was.

  She heard him speak very softly even through the wind.

  “…yours. I’m keeping your name, just so you know. I couldn’t ask for a better part of you to carry with me. It’s the most important thing you ever gave me…yourself.”

  Now, she saw tears, but he ignored them for the time being and went on in a slightly shaky voice. “But this life, the one we built together…there’s nothing left of it, and almost nothing left of who I was. What there is…that’s the part of me you loved best. So I’m keeping that too.” He wiped his eyes with a sleeve. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to this place. It won’t stay bare forever. I’ll make sure you have a spot no matter what I do with it. But…I have to go now, my love. You’re gone…so this isn’t my home anymore.”

  Then Deven rose, took a step back. A shiver ran through him; he turned partway, looking for the others anxiously, and saw Nico, who had moved closer until he was only a few feet back.

  Seeing the look on the Prime’s face Nico went to him, and Deven buried his face in the Elf’s chest, curling his hands into the lapels of Nico’s coat.

  David squeezed her hand again, and gave her a look that clearly said, “Now?”

  She nodded.

  They joined the Pair before the memorial. Miranda wrapped her arms around Deven from the back, and David did so where he could hold on to both him and Nico with one hand extended to take Miranda’s.

  They stood that way for a long time. She and David fed energy into Nico, who gave it to Deven—they could do it directly along their four-way bond, but so far the best approach they’d found was to consider themselves two Pairs who were joined together, not four individual people. They could share in whatever direction they liked but it seemed to work most efficiently from that perspective, taking advantage of the kind of energy work Pairs knew by instinct.

  Finally, she felt Deven shift, and stepped back. David did the same. Nico gently wiped Dev’s eyes with the end of his scarf, earning a sweet smile and a kissed hand. Finally, Deven turned to face all of them, calm and centered.

  “Thank you,” he said. He cast a glance at the cliff and let out a breath. “I think we can go now.”

  That answered the question, then. They’d all been wondering what would happen to this property; would Deven want to rebuild the Haven and return to his territory? Would he want to move it elsewhere? Or would he want to leave it all behind?

  She was relieved that it seemed he’d chosen the third. She wanted them near her. And while Nico had said he could make them all Gatestones that would travel to and from California in minutes, with everything that could happen, it still felt right for the whole Tetrad to stay close to one
another.

  Miranda started to say as much, but Nico frowned and stepped back away from them, looking alarmed. He reached into his coat pocket.

  “What is it?” Deven asked. Something about Nico’s face had made his hand fly to Ghostlight’s hilt, and that worried Miranda enough to do the same with Shadowflame.

  Nico pulled something out of his pocket—a stone. It was just starting to glow pale silver in the night.

  “Is that the Gatestone you made for Kai?” David asked.

  The Elf shook his head. “No, this is the Speaking Stone—the one that summoned me here to Earth. I think someone might be…” He held it out on his palm, where it glowed brighter and brighter, pulsating, as well as vibrating in his hand, practically dancing.

  Instantly Miranda felt intense dread clawing through her. She wanted to tell Nico to throw the stone over the cliff and then transport them all home, and not to hear its message under any circumstances, but she couldn’t get the words out.

  Then a voice erupted from the stone, ragged and weak, like its owner had been badly hurt and was barely hanging on. Miranda didn’t recognize it…and she didn’t recognize the words it spoke either. She hadn’t had time to learn much Elvish except for the absolute basics and the sort of things they said during sex.

  Whatever it said, Nico dropped the rock like it had scorched his hand. He had gone ghostly white, hand over his mouth in shock. He started to tilt sideways and probably would have passed out if Deven hadn’t immediately pulled him close and offered something strong to lean on.

  “What is it, Nico? Whose voice was that?”

  Nico looked at her, eyes near-panicked. “It was my mother,” he said.

  “What did she say?”

  He gripped Deven’s arm so hard she was sure it would be bruised. Deven had apparently understood, as had David, and both were as pale and stunned as Nico. After a few deep breaths, Nico steeled himself, and repeated what his mother had said:

  “Avilon is burning.”

  About the Author

  DIANNE SYLVAN is the author of six novels, five fiction anthologies, and two nonfiction books. She lives, writes, and drinks her blood volume in mochas every day in Austin, Texas.

 

 

 


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