He leans in until he is only inches from my face. “So, were it not for Virginia, you’d let me stay, then?”
I give him a gentle shove. “Well, you’ll never know, now will you?”
“Oh, I’ll know, Lia.” He holds my gaze a moment longer, his eyes alight with desire before he turns, walking back the way we came. “I won’t be far.”
His words echo in my mind, causing my face to flush even as I stand alone in the forest. I wait until he disappears from view before removing my riding breeches and shirt and placing them on a large boulder near the water. I am not sure where he is waiting, exactly, but I’m certain it is close enough that he’ll hear me should I need assistance. I cannot help but think how much things have changed, how much I have changed, that I am more concerned with my physical safety than with the fact that I’m stepping naked into the crystal waters of a river, in plain view of anyone who should happen by. Of course, it’s unlikely anyone will, but I still feel bold.
The frigid water is a shock and I almost cry aloud in the moment before I submerge my head, deciding it will get no easier. Swimming toward the center of the river, I’m careful to stay close enough to shore that I can reach it without difficulty. I’m relieved that the current moves so slowly. It trickles lazily past with a small, happy gurgle, and I tilt my head back, letting my hair flow out behind me.
The water is delicious against my bare skin, even as cold as it is. I wonder that a simple bath has never felt this good. That I have never noticed the slide of water against my nakedness. I think of Dimitri and his promise that he will remain close. It would be easy to call for him, and goose bumps rise on my arms and thighs as I imagine his bare skin against mine in the water, his arms encircling my naked body.
Standing up on the rocky river bottom, I shake the image from my mind. I’m feeling reckless. As if I have nothing to lose. I don’t want to give myself to Dimitri in such a manner. Don’t want to demean myself and our love by going to him with anything but a clear head.
I’m running my hands across the surface of the water, smoothing it against my palms in an effort to clear my mind, when I see it.
At first I think I am imagining the peculiar shimmer of the water, the strange distortion.
But no.
As I watch the water’s surface, the figure comes into view, riding through a forest not unlike the one in which I am bathing. The man’s golden hair shimmers in sunlight so bright I can almost feel it, and I sense rather than see that there are many behind him.
And one in front of him, trying to escape.
It is Samael’s Guard in pursuit, the terrifying man who almost captured me at Chartres leading the charge. The mark of the serpent is coiled around his neck, just visible beneath the fabric of his open collar. His face is a mask of fiery vengeance, and I remember his guttural howl outside the cathedral when I slashed his throat with my mother’s dagger before taking refuge inside the church.
My heart begins to hammer, and I push down my panic, trying to determine if the vision is from the past, present, or future. From the bright sunlight, it could be another day entirely or simply another forest, for the sky above me is dimmed with large spring clouds and not nearly as clear as the one in my vision must be to allow for so much light.
But that is all I can decipher. I know he’s not alone, and I know that he and the rest of the Guard are in pursuit of someone on horseback. Following this knowledge to its logical conclusion, there is only one person I can imagine them pursuing, and that is me.
I wade to the bank of the river, stepping from the water and grabbing the blanket I brought to dry off. Wrapping it around my body, I pick up my clothes and make my way toward the tree line.
“Dimitri? Are you there?” I speak more softly than I would have even fifteen minutes ago. It is difficult not to be paranoid knowing that the Guard may be close behind us.
It takes only a moment for Dimitri to appear beneath the trees in the distance. Something in my expression must alarm him, for he sprints the rest of the way and is standing before me only seconds later.
He takes hold of my shoulders, pulling me to him for a moment before speaking. “Are you all right?” He leans back, alarm in his face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Water drips from my hairline onto my face. I feel it make tracks down my skin as I try to find the words. I don’t want to say them, but in the end, it is all I can do.
“It’s the Guard,” I say. “They’re coming.”
35
“What are our options?” Brigid asks as we sit around the fire.
I sit next to Dimitri, my hair still damp and dripping water onto my shirt. I have told them everything I saw in my vision, avoiding Aunt Virginia’s eyes the whole time. It is no secret that she blames herself for our slow pace.
“There aren’t many.” Edmund paces, his brow pulled forward in consternation.
“But what if they’re not even after us?” Helene asks from across the fire.
Luisa shoots her a look of annoyance, and I answer before Luisa can do so with bite. “They may not be, but when you see a vision in the scrying waters…” I try to think of the simplest way to describe it to someone who has never cultivated the ability. “Well, you can either summon a vision about a particular thing, or one can be given to you, in a manner of speaking. That’s how this was; it just appeared. And usually when that’s the case, it means the vision has something to do with you.”
Helene’s eyes do not waver from my face. “Yes, but how do we know?”
Luisa, standing across from Helene, places her hands on her hips. “Who else would they be following, especially since they’ve come after Lia before?”
I break in, trying to keep my voice calm, before Luisa can become truly rude. “It is probably wisest to assume they’re after us, Helene.”
She is still for a moment before nodding her head.
“What do we do?” Sonia asks.
“We can ride fast and hard,” Gareth says. “Try to beat them to Avebury.”
I avoid Aunt Virginia’s eyes. She cannot manage such a ride.
“It won’t work,” Dimitri says.
Gareth opens his mouth to argue, but Dimitri continues before Gareth can speak again. “We must get to the site before they do, to set up the Rite. We cannot just ride in and begin. We need to secure lodging and make sure the perimeter is safe, and we must ensure that we have access to the center of the circle so the Stone will catch the first rays of the sunrise on Beltane.”
“He’s right,” Edmund agrees. “We have to lose them before we get to Avebury, and we have to put enough distance between us that we have at least a few hours on them.”
The silence grows heavy as we contemplate our options. I could call on my ability to scry and bring forth the vision once again, hoping for more detail, but I do not wish to anger the Grigori with the use of forbidden magic. Having the vision appear unbidden is one thing. Calling it forth would be an unsanctioned use of my power, and though I am the rightful heir to the title of Lady of Altus, the Grigori is still cloaked in a mysterious power that I am hesitant to test.
I look around the fire at my companions, stopping at Brigid as my mind grasps at the ghost of an idea. I remember the caretaker’s cottage at the otherwise abandoned site of Loughcrew. Her father’s cottage.
I look up at Dimitri. “Where will we stay at Avebury?”
“What?” He shakes off his confusion at my sudden question. “Elspeth told me there’s an inn. She said it’s small, but it will still afford us more shelter than camping outside. I had planned to secure rooms there.”
I stand, pacing as the idea takes root, gathering shape in my mind. “Gareth?”
He nods. “Yes, my Lady?”
“Could you find your way to Avebury alone?”
He answers without hesitation. “I know this country like the back of my hand.”
I turn to Dimitri. “Gareth will be able to reach Avebury faster without us. What if we send him ah
ead to secure the inn and the area around it? It will give us safe haven once we reach the site, at least. Once there, he can make arrangements for our lodging and determine the ideal location to perform the Rite.”
“That assumes that we can outrun the Souls,” Helene says.
I fight my irritation that she is always the one to voice the negative. “Yes. But if we cannot, they’ll catch us anyway. Sending Gareth ahead will give us the best chance of safety, and the time to set up the Rite.” I let my hands fall to my sides, resignation threatening to take over the slim measure of hope I felt only a moment ago. “It isn’t much, but I cannot think of anything else.”
Gareth rises. “I’ll leave immediately.”
“I’ll go with you.” Brigid stands beside him, surprising us all.
Gareth shakes his head, and I wonder if the others see the regret in his eyes. “I cannot allow it.”
Brigid lifts her chin. “It’s not for you to allow or disallow. It’s my choice. I can ride every bit as fast as you can, and I can help you ready the inn once we arrive. Besides, it’s one less woman for Dimitri and Edmund to worry over.”
I don’t know if it is the rebellious glint in her eyes or the logic of her argument, but a moment later, Gareth nods slightly in her direction. “Pack your things, then. We’ll leave immediately and put as many miles behind as possible before nightfall.”
I watch them both make for the tents, stifling an almost overwhelming frustration. I do not wish to be left behind to lumber through the forest. I want to fly toward Avebury atop Sargent’s back, not wait and hope for others to make it safe.
But I won’t leave Aunt Virginia. Her weakness makes her a target for the Guard. I could not live with myself if anything should happen to her while I rode ahead to safety. And as we help Gareth and Brigid mount their horses and say our goodbyes, I begin to understand that sacrifice has many faces. Waiting when I wish to act is one. I will make it in the name of the prophecy, as I have made so many others before.
Less than an hour after my vision, Gareth and Brigid are gone. I turn away from the sound of their horses’ retreating hoofbeats, trying not to imagine the fair-haired Guard from Avebury making his way, closer and closer, motivated by both revenge for my actions in Chartres and loyalty to the Beast that is Samael.
“Are you frightened?”
I’m startled by Sonia’s voice, soft as it is, as she lowers herself next to me on the log by the fire. “What are you doing awake?” I ask her. “I thought everyone had gone to bed.”
She smiles. “You are changing the subject.”
I return her smile in spite of myself. “Not really. I’m only surprised to see you up so late, that’s all.”
“Well, the others are fast asleep, and I couldn’t settle my thoughts long enough to do the same. Since Dimitri is on guard, I thought I’d keep you company. Do you mind?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Of course not.”
“So are you?” she asks again. “Frightened?”
I don’t have to ask her what she means. We are only two days from Avebury and the end of our journey. It will all be over soon, one way or another.
I gaze into the fire, watching as a blackened piece of wood crumbles under the heat, sending sparks up into the night sky. “A little, though not as much as I expected to be. I suppose I’m ready to see it done, whatever happens.”
I see her nod out of the corner of my eye but do not dare look her way as a strange melancholy grabs hold of me. We have traveled a very long road together, indeed.
She reaches for my hand. “I need to tell you something, Lia. Will you look at me?”
I turn to meet her eyes, grateful for the warm pressure of her hand on mine.
“You are the dearest friend I’ve ever had. The dearest friend I will ever have.” Her eyes shine as she continues. “I believe you are strong enough to come through the Rite at Avebury, but I simply… I simply could not leave to chance that you wouldn’t know how very much you mean to me. How very dear you are to me.”
I nod, squeezing her hand as the emotion threatens to spill over the confines of my heart. “I feel the same way. There is no one with whom I’d rather have shared these past months.” I lean toward her until our foreheads are touching, and we remain that way for a few moments before I rise. “We should try to sleep. We’ll have to keep our wits about us with the Guard in pursuit.”
She nods, rising to stand next to me. And as we make our way to the tents, I cannot help but feel relieved.
It is only wise to begin saying goodbye.
I do not consciously will myself to the Otherworlds. Doing so would be foolish so close to Beltane and the moment when I will have to summon the Beast in order to banish him.
Yet, I find myself on the barren Plane of the Otherworld I most closely associate with Alice. Though it is not intentional, I’m not surprised. Alice has weighed heavily on my mind as we have made our way toward Avebury. I cannot help remembering our last conversation, in the park. Recalling the flicker of doubt in Alice’s eyes, however brief, I wonder if I’ve done all I can. If perhaps Alice is closer to switching sides than I imagined.
I know the rules of the Otherworlds well. One either wills oneself to the Plane or is summoned there by another. But as I stand amid the fields—touched with only black, gray, and an undertone of angry violet—I’m not sure what has led me to the bleakness of this Otherworldly Plane. It is true that I was thinking of Alice. That she alone could have led me to seek her out. Of course, she could have summoned me as well, but then, too, she should be here to meet me.
I turn in a small circle, gazing across the empty expanse of tall grass, toward the charcoal trees in the distance. This is a silent world. The birds do not chirp. There is no rustle of small animals in the grass. Even the trees, blowing in a wind I cannot quite feel, do not make a sound.
I wait for what seems a long time, a knot tightening in my stomach. Regardless of my reason for being here, Alice is nowhere in sight, and I cannot afford to wait long. It is not easy to avoid detection by the Souls in the Otherworlds, and I don’t intend to let them take me to the Void. Not yet. Not this way. If I am banished there, it will be during the Rite at Avebury.
And I will not go without a fight.
I scan the fields one last time, hoping to see my sister approaching from any direction. It is the first time I’ve been disappointed by her lack of presence on the Plane, but I don’t have time to ponder this strange turn of events. My disappointment is too shaded with uneasiness, and I close my eyes, willing myself back to the physical world, all the while wondering about Alice. Wondering where she is—and what could keep her from the Plane that was her domain long before I was aware it even existed.
36
We ride as fast as we’re able the next day, though it’s not as fast as I would like. Edmund rides at the front, pushing us as hard as he dares given Helene’s inexperience atop a horse and Aunt Virginia’s obvious fatigue.
Beltane is only three days away, and I have fallen into a state of hyperawareness. My nerves crackle with anticipation, yet I lack the sense of urgency that I felt while fleeing the Guard in France. It’s difficult to push my body so hard when I am allowed only snippets of sleep between nightmares in which the Souls—and increasingly, Samael himself—give chase. They haunt me long after I wake, for they are not mere glimpses into my eventual capture. These are different. These nightmares are ones in which Samael welcomes me.
Ones in which I welcome him.
They play to my darkest fear: that I will not be strong enough. That I will allow myself to be used as a weapon to usher in the chaos of the ages.
I don’t want the others to feel they have cast their lot with someone who already doubts her will to fight. So I keep the fear secret and close, in the bleakest parts of my heart.
We have slowed our pace in an effort to find a spot to camp for the night when Aunt Virginia drops back to ride by my side. She obviously has something to say, but we ride for a
moment in silence before she finally opens her mouth to speak.
“I’m sorry, Lia.”
I look at her in surprise. “Sorry? Whatever for?”
I hear the weariness in her sigh. “For insisting that I come along. For slowing your pace at a time when you cannot afford it.”
“Don’t be silly. Helene is ten times slower. It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d stayed in London. We would be traveling at this pace anyway.” I smile at her. “Besides, it brings me comfort to have you here.”
And these may be our last days together, I think. I’m grateful for every moment.
Nodding, she turns her gaze to the woods around us. “It may not be possible to close the Gate without Alice, but as a Sister and former Guardian, I would like to stand with you in the Circle of Fire. I would like to lend my power—what little I have left—to closing the Gate. It is why I insisted on coming.”
I don’t answer right away. It’s impossible to forget the feeling I’ve had in my dreams of the Rite at Avebury. The feeling of being torn in two. Of being split down the middle by Samael as he attempts to use me as his entrance to this world. Darkness settles over my soul at the memory. I don’t wish to subject Aunt Virginia to such a thing.
“It is dangerous,” I tell her. “Samael’s power is… Well, I have felt it in my nightmares these past weeks, and I don’t think it would be good for your health.”
A smile lights her eyes. For a moment, I see the shadow of my mother. “Lia, do you think I don’t know the risks? It is true that the stakes were not quite as high for your mother and me. We were simply Guardian and Gate, as were hundreds of sisters before us. You are Angel of the Gate, and that brings with it—has brought with it—much difficulty. Far more than I can imagine.” Her eyes, as green as my own, grow serious. “But there is no greater purpose than this, and though I have bequeathed my title as Guardian to Alice, I still have a measure of strength. I don’t wish to live with the knowledge that I stood by and let you fight this alone.” She smiles once more. “We are more than aunt and niece, child. We are Sisters of the prophecy. It is my duty to stand by your side.”