But then I wiped away the last thought. I knew my love, inside and out. I knew that even though he was a member of the Indigo Court, he had broken the connection with Myst. He would always be wild-eyed and feral, my wolf-shifter husband, but he loved me and would lay down his life for me.
After a moment’s thought, I motioned to him. “We need to talk. Alone.”
He followed me into a private chamber just off the council room.
Ulean, keep watch and make certain nobody is listening at the door. Warn me. And listen to what they are saying—I want to know.
I will, Cicely. But the Snow Hag is right. Danger lurks here. Not necessarily in this room, but the barrow feels uneasy, and I think there is treachery to be found here. This edge was not here yesterday—I only notice now because I am looking for it, but I think, had it been here before, I would have sensed it. I could be wrong on that, however.
I shuddered and Grieve noticed. He pulled me into his arms. His long platinum hair shimmered against the dim light, and his olive skin was warm and musky. He smelled like cinnamon and autumn leaves, like the dark half of the year on a rainy, chill night. Like the blackness of stars against the snow. He held me close, kissing my hair, kissing my forehead.
“What’s wrong, my Cicely? What gives you grief?”
In soft tones, so as not to be overheard by any prying ears, I laid out what the Snow Hag had told me. “Someone is playing spy for Myst here… and I don’t know who. Now I can’t trust anybody. My father told me I could trust Strict before he and Lainule left for the Golden Isle, but can I really? Do I dare trust anybody?”
“Trust is a relative word. We can’t take a chance telling them what we know—if one of the men in there happens to be in the service of Myst, then she’d find out we’re onto her plans.” His gaze flickered to the ground and he moved back, holding me by my shoulders. “I know you aren’t going to like this, but there is a way to find out. We have to be cautious about how we go about it so word doesn’t get around, however.”
I knew what he was talking about and he was right. I didn’t like it.
The Shamans of the Cambyra Fae had a procedure. It was painful and intrusive, but allowed them to delve into someone’s mind, to root through their thoughts and feelings and secrets. Essentially a form of mental torture, it was a real mindfuck. But it got the job done. And everyone in the barrow had been through it before I took the throne, so either someone new had joined us, or someone’s loyalty had been turned after the fact.
“I don’t want to order that.” Even as I said the words, I knew that I was fighting a losing battle. There was no other option. Simply going around asking, “By the way, are you working for Myst now?” wasn’t going to get me anywhere and I knew it. “It’s mind-rape,” I whispered.
“Perhaps so, but it might also save our people. You let a spy from Myst loose in this barrow and she’ll have a good chance of sweeping through here again. And this time, she won’t leave anybody alive. If she gains entrance, you can be assured the barrow will be slick with blood and bone and gristle.”
“And she’ll turn everyone who she can use. And the rest… food for the Shadow Hunters.” I hung my head. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
Grieve slowly backed away and knelt before me. “You are the Queen of Snow and Ice. Wear your crown and wield your power.”
And so, reluctantly, I whispered, “Then how do we go about this without word getting out?”
“We tell no one else. Not Luna, not Peyton or Kaylin.” The warning in his voice was clear—our friends couldn’t know what was going on. “We visit the Shamans. They alone can be trusted. They are chosen from birth for their discipline and power.” He rose, staring into my eyes. “And first, they put me to the test.”
“You?” Startled, I began to shake my head. “Not you—”
But Grieve took my hands and gently brushed my wrist with his razor sharp teeth, leaving a thin red weal as blood welled up. Even as I responded, melting under his touch, he shook his head.
“Remember, my love. I belonged to Myst for a time. I carry her blood in my body. She turned me into one of the Vampiric Fae and while I have gained a modicum of control, as Queen, you cannot be complacent. You cannot trust even me without knowing for certain.”
And so, my heart heavy, we returned to the main chamber and told everyone to sit tight. And then, Grieve and I made our way through the barrow, to where the Shamans lived. To where I would order them to torture the truth from my beloved husband and the rest of my people.
New York Times bestselling author Yasmine Galenorn writes urban fantasy, mystery, and metaphysical nonfiction. A graduate of Evergreen State College, she majored in theater and creative writing. Yasmine has been in the Craft for more than thirty years and is a shamanic witch. She describes her life as a blend of teacups and tattoos, and lives in the Seattle area with her husband, Samwise, and their cats. Yasmine can be reached at her website at galenorn.com, via Twitter at twitter.com/yasminegalenorn, at facebook.com/AuthorYasmineGalenorn, and via her publisher. If you send her snail mail, please enclose a self-addressed stamped envelope if you want a reply.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times bestselling author Yasmine Galenorn writes urban fantasy, mystery, and metaphysical nonfiction. A graduate of Evergreen State College, she majored in theater and creative writing. Yasmine has been in the Craft for more than thirty years and is a shamanic witch. She describes her life as a blend of teacups and tattoos, and lives in the Seattle area with her husband, Samwise, and their cats. Yasmine can be reached at her website at galenorn.com, via Twitter at twitter.com/yasminegalenorn, at facebook.com/AuthorYasmineGalenorn, and via her publisher. If you send her snail mail, please enclose a self-addressed stamped envelope if you want a reply.