Dark Consort

by Amber R. Duell

  “Sandman,” Nora called, waving me forward.

  I jerked, and the first true blast of pain went straight through me. Red mist rose through the entire courtyard, higher and higher, as the bodies evaporated. I rushed from the carnage and over the threshold before any of the blistering cloud could make it inside. The door barely shut behind me before Nora’s arms wrapped around my middle.

  “Hi,” she breathed.

  “Hi.” I melted into her, my anxiety falling away. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” She stepped back and cleared her throat. “We’re all fine.”

  “What are you doing here?” Kail’s two flashing eyes scanned me critically.

  I pushed my hood off and glared at him. When had she fixed him? Last I knew, she was fuming over his earlier omission and refusing to make his requested repairs. “Finding Nora,” I said simply.

  “You were supposed to check between here and the trees,” he said grumpily.

  “Obviously she wasn’t there,” I snapped.

  “Enough. Let’s all take a minute. Or five,” Nora said. She eyed the red mist pressing against the windowpane. “We’re clearly not going anywhere right now.”

  “The tunnel—” Kail started.

  “Five minutes,” she barked. “Then we’ll meet in the room with the clock to make a plan.”

  I watched her walk away, shoulders squared, and instantly knew how she was going to spend that time. It made sense that she would want to hide her weakness from Kail and Halven, but was I included now? Would she still allow me to see her vulnerability? I wasn’t brave enough to find out. But in those minutes, Nora was going to crumble under pressure, only to pull herself together, stronger than before.

  “She’s stalling,” Kail said with a sigh.

  Halven shook his head. “Our lady is right. Without a plan, we’re going into a fight blinded by hatred.”

  “We need options.” I massaged my temples. “You have five minutes to fill me in about this tunnel.”

  Kail studied me for a long moment, then led the way into the tower.

  28

  Nora

  We were not trapped in this forsaken tower of death. I refused to allow it. But no matter what part of the Blood Tower I touched, it was the only knot I could feel. Nothing beyond the walls, nothing within them. Some part of me knew it wouldn’t be possible to change anything without touching it, but I couldn’t help trying. The grin turned smug, and I punched the nearest surface, which happened to be a decorative metal sculpture that spiraled up from the floor. My knuckles throbbed, the skin peeling away, and the grin seemed to chuckle.

  “Fine,” I whispered at it. “Do you have a solution?”

  Silence.

  Of course.

  Because the grin wasn’t an actual, physical thing—it was just part of the magic. It didn’t have a mind of its own, even if it felt like it sometimes. Okay. Think. Rowan came here believing she had the upper hand. I was sure she didn’t expect things to go as they did, so what would her backup plan be? Retreat to the tree? Plan another ambush?

  “Hey.” Kail poked the back of my head. “When you say five minutes, do you usually mean twenty?”

  I whipped around. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you have somewhere else to be?”

  “It would be good to know for future reference,” he said.

  “Bold of you to assume we’ll have a future.” What did I know about any of this? I was a seventeen-year-old high school drop out from the Day World. My biggest problems should be picking out the perfect prom dress, studying for the SAT, and applying to colleges I didn’t want to attend, but no. Instead, I had to become an expert at strategy so I could plot the death of my mortal enemy. I shouldn’t even have a mortal enemy.

  Kail rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s waiting to hash out our next move.”

  There was no more stalling. No more hiding. I stared down the grin, letting my resentment harden my nerves, and joined the others. Halven stood in front of his clock and the Sandman sat on one end of the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose. He smiled when I walked through the door, and I couldn’t help but return it. God. He was the most beautiful man in existence. It was all I could do not to bury myself in him right there in front of the brothers.

  “It takes about six hours for the bodies to disappear and the mist to dissipate,” Kail said. “Are you sure you don’t want to take the tunnel?”

  “Can Halven whisk us all across the Nightmare Realm at once?” I asked. Halven shook his head without looking away from the symbols.

  “It would take longer to go through the tunnel and backtrack in the direction of the trees than it would to wait,” the Sandman said, his tone dry. He had probably told them the same thing a dozen times while they waited for me.

  “It would take the same amount of time,” Kail corrected.

  Anger flared inside me, and I said, “In that case, there’s really no benefit to leaving just now.”

  “Let’s not get sidetracked,” the Sandman said and placed his hands on his knees. “It doesn’t matter how we get there—it matters what we do after.”

  I took a seat beside him, careful to avoid physical contact. We needed to focus on the plan, and if I touched him, I would give into the urge to fold myself into him. To soak up the warmth, the love, of him instead of feeling like a rock plunked into dark, icy water.

  “We should all lay our cards on the table first,” I said. “There seems to be a lot of things the four of us are sharing with one or two others instead of with the group.” Not that we were really a group—more like pairs. Me and the Sandman, Kail and Halven, me and Kail. But we hadn’t been a cohesive gathering until now. “I’ll start,” I added when they were silent. I turned to the Sandman. “Those bruises you saw? I was attacked by one of the Hours, who are also responsible for burning down the tower.”

  “The Hours?” The Sandman sat up straight. “Rowan has the Hours behind her?”

  Kail snorted. “That would make our lives too easy.”

  “They’re upset about Mara,” I said, cutting a look at Kail.

  “Some more than others,” Kail added. “Three wants her dead. Six and Ten want a plan to take care of the problem, or they’ll kill her. The others could be anywhere in between.”

  “If they kill you, they’ll be the new Weaver,” the Sandman stated.

  “Not sure they thought the process through,” I admitted. “Anyway. Your turn.”

  The Sandman cocked his head and locked eyes with me. “I don’t have any secrets. You know I’ve been making spies and that I let Rowan capture me. There’s nothing else to tell.”

  My first instinct was to scream liar, but while the Sandman hid things sometimes, he didn’t lie. Especially not to my face. My heart throbbed painfully with guilt for even thinking it. “Okay.” I looked to Kail. “Go ahead. And remember, we only have six hours.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside his brother. “Sure. Believe everyone but me.”

  Yup. I shrugged. “I’ll always believe the Sandman, and I haven’t asked Halven yet.”

  “Kail and I will tell you the same thing,” Halven supplied in his usual raspy voice. “Forgive me, but it’s easier for him to explain.”

  “Not yet,” Kail hissed.

  Halven looked away from the clock for the first time. “Then when?” he asked his brother.

  “No,” I interrupted with finality. “Now is perfect.”

  Kail shook his head. “You won’t agree yet. We still have to prove ourselves.”

  “Put us back together,” Halven blurted so quickly it sounded as if his throat were made of gravel. He coughed and rubbed at his breastbone. “Please, Lady. It hurts to be apart.”

  Pieces clicked together. The frayed end of Kail’s thread, the cryptic answers when it came to Halven. They weren’t brothers. They were the same nightmare cut in two. Kail’s ulterior motive was to be whole again. Even the grin’s lips parted in surprise. I sucked in a breath at the agonized look o
n Kail’s face and Halven’s rigid stance. The Weaver wouldn’t put them back together because he didn’t care how they felt about being apart. That’s why he needed my humanity. My heart cracked a little for them both.

  “That’s why Halven couldn’t leave you to die?” I asked in a low voice. “Because if you die, he dies?”

  Kail clenched his jaw and nodded once. “Pain aside, I don’t particularly like having my biggest weakness wandering the Nightmare Realm alone.”

  “It’s safer to wander than to work with Rowan,” Halven said softly.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Kail snapped, his face instantly red. The break in his voice nearly did me in as he said, “Go ahead, Lady. Get it over with. Tell us you won’t help so we can let go of the hope.”

  The backs of my eyes prickled with tears. That was what he wanted. Why he was helping me. I wasn’t sure why I felt it so deeply, but it was a weight lifted to know his reasons weren’t underhanded. “Of course I will.” My voice wavered, and I felt my face flush.

  They said nothing, but Kail’s eyes fixed on the floor. Had they really thought I wouldn’t do it? After all they’d done for me? But an image of Kail’s crumbled beak flashed before me, and my ears rang with the fight we had when I found out he knew how to kill Rowan. Why wouldn’t he expect me to refuse? He betrayed me with the knife many months ago, and he probably only knew the unforgiving nature of the Weaver and Rowan. He was right to want to build loyalty and trust first.

  “After,” Kail finally said. “When you’ve got your loom back and have practiced on something else first. It’s a lot harder to put things back together than it is to rip them apart.”

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  The Sandman reached over and took my hand, squeezing gently. His expression said everything he couldn’t say in front of the others, and my heart swelled. I love you, I love you, I love you. But also, a painful twist deep beneath that. You don’t deserve him, it said. And it was right. So, so right. I squeezed his hand back anyway.

  “So, where’s Rowan?” I asked Halven.

  “The trees,” he said, pointing. “The Blood Army too.”

  The Sandman tensed. “I saw what Baku saw—there should be more than the Blood Army with her.”

  “A few.” Halven confirmed.

  “Does it say where they went?” The Sandman’s violet, starlit eyes scanned the clock almost frantically.

  Halven rubbed at his throat. “Who, specifically?”

  A crease formed between the Sandman’s brows. What had he seen exactly? Another army? “Where’s Baku?” I asked, trying not to think about it. One disaster at a time. “Is he going to help?”

  “He does what he wants when he wants,” the Sandman said in a distant voice.

  “Oh, he’ll come,” Kail said with certainty. “At the end. To eat the corpses.”

  “We leave when the mist lifts,” Halven rasped, steering the conversation back on track. The four of us exchanged looks and nodded in agreement.

  “And when we get there?” I asked.

  “We fight,” Kail said as if it were obvious.

  “This is my first real battle,” I said. “I’m going to want to fight with something a little more concrete.”

  “Trust yourself,” the Sandman whispered. “Use what you’ve learned. Rowan may have nightmares on her side, but they aren’t there. Even if they are, they’ll switch sides if you give them reason to. Make a show of force.”

  “And the second you get the chance—” Kail dragged a finger across his throat. “It doesn’t matter if it’s Rowan or the tree, as long as you take one of them out.”

  Take one of them out. Right. That was the plan, and yet the action itself always seemed so far away. So doable, yet so unreachable. Standing at the starting gate turned out to be a whole other beast. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure this was a race I could win. I was not ready for this. Not even a little bit. I was nothing more than a puppy who just learned to eat solid food stepping into a fighting pit with the top dog—but what other choice did I have? It didn’t matter if I was ready; this was happening, and I was going to win.

  I took a fortifying breath. “What about you guys?”

  “We’ll watch your back.” Kail glanced at the clock. “Don’t worry. I know all Rowan’s tricks. You just worry about killing her and leave the rest to us.”

  Even now that I had all this magic, her touch was too much. Telling me not to worry was about as helpful as telling water not to be wet. The Sandman ran his thumb over my scraped knuckles, and I jumped.

  “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t. I just realized something.” I smiled and turned to Kail. “Rowan’s clothes?”

  “What about them?” he asked, curious.

  “Show me where they are.”

  He shrugged and pushed off the wall.

  I moved to follow him into the hall when the Sandman grabbed for my hand again, stopping me in my tracks. “Can I see you later? Alone?”

  “Please,” I answered, my heart fluttering at the thought, and I gave him a quick kiss.

  Maybe we really could win this. Together. All of us.

  29

  The Sandman

  This was the first time since I told Nora that I loved her that I was this nervous to see her. All our time apart washed away the moment she returned my smile in the sitting room, and holding her hand felt like it did the first time, sparks and all. I had to believe things wouldn’t go badly when we left to face Rowan, but if they did—if they did, I wanted her to know how I still felt. I leaned my head on the doorframe of Nora’s room and watched her chew her bottom lip as she stared at the clothing scattered over the floor. When she didn’t notice me after thirty seconds, I tapped my knuckles on the wood.

  Nora jumped at the sound, then smiled as her gaze fell on me. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” I motioned to the heap of fabric. “Need help?”

  Nora snorted and pointed to a pile of red silk in the corner. “Raiding Rowan’s closet was a flop. All she had were three identical red gowns. I’m trying to decide what will offer the most coverage so she can’t touch me, but I guess it doesn’t matter what I wear. Nothing here would cover my neck.”

  “Layers,” I suggested.

  Nora plucked up a camisole, a t-shirt, and a purple sweater and tossed them onto the bed. “I should’ve packed some of my scarves,” she lamented.

  I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me, and took my gloves from my belt. “Here.” They were too big for her, but it was better than nothing.

  “I can’t take those.” She climbed to her feet. “You’ll need them if you fight the Blood Army.”

  “You need them more than I do.” I took her hand and set them in her palm, holding tight. “How are you?”

  “I’m o—”

  I silenced her by tracing a line across her forehead. “I mean in here.”

  Nora’s breath caught. “It’s like there’s another person in there with me sometimes,” she admitted with a grimace. “But it’s getting better. I just need to get through this, you know?”

  “I know.” I pulled her against me, and she nuzzled into my chest. “We will.”

  We clung to each other for what felt like an eternity, silently soaking each other in. It was almost like before. Almost. A hint of sulfur clung to the air about her, where before she smelled like autumn giving way to winter—a fresh, crisp scent that was distinctly Nora. It was still there, under everything. All of her was. The Weaver’s magic hadn’t destroyed her completely, which meant there was hope. Maybe it wouldn’t—maybe she really could be both. Her reaction to Kail’s secret, that she didn’t hesitate to grant their request, proved it.

  “Are you sure I should go?” I asked.

  She held me a bit tighter. “I’m sure.”

  “You’ve come so far without me…”

  “I’ve learned a lot being here.” She set her chin on my chest and looked up at me with as much longing i
n her expression as I felt. “But my head feels messy, so I’m going to listen to something else instead.”

  “Kail?” I joked.

  “Ha-ha.” She tapped her fingers over my chest. “My heart.”

  My own heart swelled painfully. I tried not to think about all the hurt she caused me. This could be our last time together for a while, and I wanted to enjoy it. There was plenty of time for anger later, because Nora would survive this battle if I had to kill Rowan myself—but I wouldn’t dredge it all up now. She had to focus on what came next.

  “Sandman,” she whispered. “Where did you go?”

  “What?”

  “Just now. You looked like you were a million miles away.”

  I shook my head.

  “We used to talk about everything,” she said wistfully. “Now look at us.”

  “Now isn’t the time,” I said.

  “Now is the only time. If I don’t make it back tomorrow, I’ll die with a lot of things left unsaid, and I don’t want that.” It wasn’t said with fear, but resolve.

  “You’re not going to die, Nora,” I promised.

  “You don’t know that.” She stepped back suddenly and covered her face. When her hands dropped, her gold eyes shimmered with tears. “I’ve done so many horrible things to you, Sandman. Why are you still here?”

  I clutched the fabric over my heart. Another blow, though I knew she didn’t mean it to be. My love for her was strong enough that I wouldn’t walk away instead of trying to work things out. “I promised you that I would be yours no matter what, and I meant it.”

  “I don’t—” She growled wordlessly. “I don’t want you to be here because of some promise you made before I lied to you.” I stepped forward, but she stepped back, keeping the same amount of distance between us. It sparked a match inside me. “Am I angry? Yes,” I said, the words bitter. “But we can talk through it after you’ve taken your realm. I’m not here because of some sense of obligation. The promise will always be true, no matter how many lies you tell, because I’ve lied too. For five years, I kept secrets that would eventually destroy your life. More than your life. Because of me, there are a lot of devastated people in the Day World right now, and while I can’t be sorry for saving the rest of the world, I am sorry for the cost. I understand lying when you feel it’s the only option for the greater good. You did what you thought you had to do, and I don’t blame you for it. I only wish you had talked to me instead. That, after everything, you trusted me.” My voice cracked. “Have I not always done what you wanted? I admit I was being selfish about you coming back here because I didn’t want to lose you, but if you insisted… You had to know I would’ve brought you here, Nora.”