A Thief of Nightshade (25 page)

She fell forcefully onto the floor on the other side, gasping for breath and fighting hard to gain control of the panic that washed over her in waves.

“I made a 98. I did question Professor Clayton on it. He overruled it.

It’s all right, Grant. It’s still an A.”

The voice brought so much pain with it that Aubrey no longer struggled to slow down her breathing—the room was simply devoid of air. She looked up to see herself on the phone in her dorm room at Darlington. She was fourteen.

“Are you coming up this weekend?”

A long pause ensued before she saw herself nod and say, “I know. No, I understand. I forgot about Steeplechase.

Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired. Haven’t been sleeping too well. No, I don’t have plans, Neil and I broke up. It’s okay, I’ll see you soon.” Then, she hung up and sat down on the side of the bed with her knees hugged tightly to her chest.

Aubrey wanted to stop what she knew would happen next, but couldn’t.

She couldn’t force her limbs to cooperate and she watched herself stare numbly out of the darkened window of her room, before reaching into the nightstand drawer to pull out a tall bottle of blue pills.

“No, please,” Aubrey whispered, trying to will the scene away.

Wordless, she opened the bottle and without

pausing

to

consider

the

consequences, she took every last pill. No tears or emotion on her face—only quiescent defeat. When she was through, she simply lay down on top of her covers and closed her eyes.

“He started drinking heavier then,” a voice whispered. Her voice, Aubrey realized. “He couldn’t fix you, Aubrielle, so he drank to deal with the pain. Just like Jullian couldn’t fix you. He didn’t tell you the truth because you were weak.”

“That isn’t true,” Aubrey said defiantly.

“But it is. Did Grant not lie twice about why you were in the hospital to the press, your parents and all of his colleagues? He was ashamed of you. Of what you’d allowed to happen.”

“I was eight years old!” Aubrey screamed. “I was petrified of Father when he was drunk. How could I have fought him?”

The voice laughed as the floor felt like it was pulled from beneath her. “But he chose you, not Brooke, to be his favorite. Why do you think that is? And that has to be the truth, or why else would Brooke be perfectly normal while you’re ... well, look at you.”

Aubrey closed her eyes to keep from throwing up and opened them only when the world around her moved.

The vision in front of her wasn’t of her past as she’d expected it to be. It was Jullian she saw, dressed in white as he’d been in her first vision. Saralia smiled at Aubrey knowingly from beside him in her throne.

“She is a queen, more powerful than any living creature in Avalar. She can give him anything he desires. You couldn’t even soothe his nightmares,” the voice said. “You think you’re done with your past? That you’ve made your peace with it? Hardly. You’re so screwed up you don’t even know what to do with yourself.

Why else would you have left the funeral?

Oh ... do you see that look in his eyes?

They look so perfect together, Jullian and the queen. She might even decide to have another child, just because he’d make such beautiful children.”

“This isn’t real. He doesn’t know who he is.”

“Isn’t it real?” the voice whispered.

“Could you have had his children? Or have you come to grips with how worthless you are yet? You promised Jullian he’d never lose you, so why did you jump into the water on the dock? Was that another poorly executed suicide attempt?”

She couldn’t respond.

“You’ve always known it. You were paralyzed with jealously when you first saw Saralia. You know you’re powerless against her. Give up, Aubrey, and go back to the Goblin King. Beg him for your life and he may let you live. At least there you might find someone who feels more than just ... sorry for you.” The voice laughed again. “Don’t you see? If Jullian really loved you, he wouldn’t have left you. He wasn’t taken from your world. He left of his own accord.”

“No!” Aubrey screamed.

“No?” the voice taunted. “Aislinn has no faith in you. Lady Crimson has no faith in you. Tabor only humored you when he sent you on this futile journey.

But most of all, you know that you can’t do this. Wake up, Aubrielle—this isn’t one of those stories where the heroine discovers something hidden in her ancestry that makes her special, or powerful, or even worthy. There isn’t anything extraordinary about you. Just like there wasn’t anything extraordinary about the Madame when she tried to defeat the Fae Queen. Jullian doesn’t love you. Give it up!”

Just promise me ... this won’t make any sense to you, but tell me anyway that should you ever find yourself in harm’s way, you’ll remember the things that I’ve said to you. You’ll remember that I love you.

Aubrey heard Jullian, knew his voice, but instead of bringing comfort it brought a bright and burning pain. She’d let him down already. She should have been there to save him. Had she just listened close enough to what he was trying to tell her all along, he wouldn’t have been alone that morning—he could have told her what he must have feared would happen. They could have found a way together to keep him safe.

Aubrey expected to hear the voice again—its cruel laughter or biting taunts— but found only silence and a now darkened, cavernous room.

“You weren’t the only one who suffered, you know.”

Aubrey’s skin drew taut with chills as she heard Harry’s voice. “Harrington?”

“You took my father from me.” He stepped out of the shadows, his face red and worn from tears. “He never laid a hand on me and yet still I had to spend my childhood without him. You could have kept it to yourself, Aubrey.”

She shook, on the verge of crying herself. “No, Harry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know you didn’t mean to, Aubrey, you never mean to do anything. You just stumble through life letting things happen to you. Did you ever consider us? What we’d have to bear because of you and your selfishness? You wouldn’t have even looked for Jullian. You’re only here because of the Oran.”

Aubrey took a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“How can you possibly think Jullian loves you? He’s the son of a King. And you’re what? The spoiled, selfish, backwards child of a ... well, a man who was once respected.”

Aubrey turned to see Samantha emerging from the depths, along with Brooke and her mother. Her heart pounded in her chest as the blood pooled in her middle, leaving her arms and legs numb and tingly.

“How you must have hated me to tell anyone

our

secret,

Elana,”

Parker

Wright’s slurred words pulled the ground from below Aubrey, forcing her to her knees. “You promised me you wouldn’t.

You were my little girl. I loved you.”

She screamed, squeezing her eyes shut and covered her ears with her hands.

“Please...”

“You’ll die here, alone with your fears,” her father hissed into her ear.

“Pathetic and alone. Look at you, LOOK

AT YOU!” He forced her to stand and

dragged her to look into the mirror.

Her eyes were dry, despite the terror in them. her father’s hands held her in place, wrinkling the silk sleeves of her gown. He smiled lasciviously and reached his hand across her until his fingers were splayed wide on her bare breastbone.

“You’ll always be my little girl.”

The Oran felt like it would burn through Aislinn’s paw. It pulsed, like a heart beating, and with it came a sickening sense of danger—not for him, but for Aubrey. He clenched it tighter.

“What’s happening to her?” he growled.

The King turned to him with a smile on his face. “She’s fighting for your freedom. Weren’t you here when we discussed this?”

Aislinn wanted to shred him into pieces and feed him to his gross little minions. “That isn’t what I asked.”

“See for yourself if you really want to.” The King pointed to the darkness.

“Though, I’ll warn you, it will probably be most unpleasant.”

He considered not doing so, but for lack of any better ideas he took the King up on his offer. At first he didn’t see anything and heard nothing but the sound of his own clumsy steps. After a few moments though, he saw the faint outline of a mirror and Aubrey’s deathly silent frame.

“Aubrey?” He touched her lightly, but she didn’t move. In fact, as he leaned closer, he could barely detect her breathing.

“What have you done to her?”

Aislinn yelled. The King didn’t answer and before he could turn to confront him, something else captured his attention. The mirror did not reflect the two of them. He saw instead faces, people he’d seen through Jullian’s eyes, as they played out a nightmarish scene. Among them he saw Aubrey.

“Aubrey! It isn’t real! Listen to me!”

He yelled but she didn’t respond, not in the mirror’s reflection or in the flesh beside him. Furious, he jumped through the looking glass.

CLAPPED

HER

THIGHS

AGAINST HER
horse’s flanks. The stallion broke from the stable at a full gallop, Ian hard on her heels with a second companion behind him. The other Griffins were in flight above them, their figures barely visible in the waning light of day.

For a long while, nothing but the constant thrum of horse’s hooves could be heard.

Then, Ian signaled that they slow with a sharp whistle that he was lucky Given heard.

“Are you ready for this?” Ian asked.

Given pulled the sword from behind her, the ringing of steel her only answer.

“I don’t know how long this will last.” He quickly whispered the words for a glamour and cloaked them both. “Pray it is long enough.”

The two of them made their way into the south entrance of Koldavere amid the panic that the sight of the other Griffins had caused. A brilliant distraction, most of the King’s forces were busy fighting winged

assailants,

leaving

little

opposition for Given and Ian.

They found the dungeons easily enough, though it was for naught. “They aren’t here,” Given whispered.

“Who’s there?” an oddly mechanical voice cooed.

Ian frowned at her and pointed down the hall, away from the nearly empty cells.

“Are you looking for the human?”

Given watched as what she’d assumed was a pile of junk moved and unfurled in front of them until it resembled a living thing. “Yes. And the bear. Where are they?”

Ian clenched his jaw, clearly about to reprimand her when he leaned forward with a disgusted look on his face. “Cain?”

The creature wheeled backwards and clinked against the railing. “Show yourself!”

“What are you doing?” Given watched in amusement as Ian unveiled himself and approached the rolling garbage pile, anger evident in his tight-lipped expression.

“Where are they?” Ian pressed his booted foot against the creature, pinning it to the wall.

“If I tell you, will you free me?” Cain asked.

Ian laughed. “After you disobeyed Oberon? And me, for that matter? No, my old friend, you’ve made your own bed.”

Given marveled at the amount of time Ian was wasting. “Could we come back to this reunion later? Say, when we’re not trying to fight the Goblin King and save the Prince?”

Ian twisted around and for a split second, Given thought he would say something to her about her tone of voice, but he appeared to think better of it. “If they aren’t here, then they’ve been taken to the mines or to Cedrick himself.” He stared hard at Cain. “If there is any honor in you at all, you’ll tell us right now which it is.”

Cain rolled his metallic tongue around in his mouth in thought, then answered, “She requested an audience with the Goblin King.”

Given didn’t wait on Ian to ask.

“Which way do we go?”

Cain looked around, confused by where her voice was coming from, as she still hadn’t removed her glamour. “Past Koldavere and into the Keep. You’ll know his throne room when you see it. Go through the door at the far end of the room and you’ll come to three doors. Take the middle one.”