Chapter 37

Thunder rumbled beyond the high stone walls of the tower. Shoshanna looked up from the heavy leatherbound grimoire, got to her feet, and padded over to the stained-glass windows. Colored glass vibrated in the frames, but no cold air entered the tower.

Darkness spread like a void-black sea all around the stone spire, with the flickering eyes of strange creatures slithering in the depths. She shuddered and backed away.

She snugged her cozy blue robe tighter around her frame and settled back into the plush chair at the big table, where a stack of books piled up like a wall of knowledge. A fluffy gray cat with silver-blue eyes climbed into her lap, purring noisily as her tail curled around Shoshanna's arm.

"Good girl," Shoshanna murmured. "Ursula's a good girl, isn't she?"

The cat chirped and nuzzled into Shoshanna's arm before lying down in her lap again.

When she turned her attention back to the book, the text danced right off the thick parchment page. Inked runes careened through the air like dust motes. Voices poured into her ears, and she understood it, understood the shape of everything as the lines and swirls washed over her.

Turning the pages impossibly fast, she read page after page. Her eyes danced across the page as she devoured the book and finally reached that final red leather cover. After carefully closing the ancient grimoire, she glanced at Ursula, then at the smooth wooden table.

As she stared at the empty space, a teacup materialized. No, it had been there. Hadn't it?

When had she last eaten? She ought to be hungry, shouldn't she?

Cradling the fluffy gray cat to her chest, she rose and headed to the window again. Wind howled beyond the glass, and she could have sworn she heard voices screaming, Stay back!

On the opposite side of the reading room was a heavy wooden door with a barred window. She crept closer, heart thumping. Ursula growled and batted at her, but Shoshanna put her down and walked closer. Curiosity drew her closer, even as the cat wove between her legs and meowed in protest.

For one bizarre moment, she could have sworn the cat said, Don't open it!

That was certainly just her brain filling in the blanks. She grasped the thick metal handle and pulled the door open. Cold air rushed in and extinguished the warm glowing candles. The scream of the wind was a thousand banshees proclaiming her demise.

Beyond the arched doorframe, the sheer walls of the tower plunged down into roiling darkness that waited to swallow up careless little witches who dared to go where they shouldn't…

With a gasp, she slammed the door and pressed her back against it. It vibrated against her, as if the wind was shaking it open. Breathing hard, she looked around the room. For a split second, the warm glow was replaced by a harsh gray cast, and the pleasant library was covered in cobwebs and ropy dark tendrils.

Night Weaver curse lost forever, hissed a chorus of unseen voices.

She shook her head violently, and the candles ignited to a warm yellow again. As she stood there panting against the door, Ursula leaped into her arms. The warmth of the little purring creature settled Shoshanna, and before she knew it, she was settled back in the big leather chair.

How long had she been reading? Was there a time before she was seated in this lovely, warm library?

Thunder rolled again, and the tower shook on its foundation. She yelped in fright, but the cat sat up and nuzzled its head into her chest. Instinctively, she stroked the fluffy cat's head, focusing her attention there as the glass rattled in its panes.

"What shall we read next?" she asked the cat.

The gray cat purred and settled into her lap, clearly satisfied with her return to reading.

The stackof books never seemed to grow any shorter. As she finished one book, she fetched another and another, piling up books that struck her fancy. Each had to be thousands of pages, but her eyes did not grow weary, and her stomach never demanded food.

Was this right?

She was pondering a two-page spread of geometric designs when a sharp knocking came at the wooden door. Her head snapped up. That was new. Had anyone ever knocked?

Carefully, she rose and went to the door. But when she reached for the heavy metal handle, she hesitated. That cold wind and deep chasm lay beyond.

Instead, she rose on her toes to peer through the small, barred window. There was only darkness beyond.

Perhaps it was her imagination.

She turned back to the table and gasped. A single red rose lay on the polished wooden table. Dashing for the table, she pushed aside her book and picked up the rose. It was somehow brighter, more real than anything else in the library. As she stared at the vibrant red bloom, the color seemed to fade from her surroundings.

Each petal was velvety soft, blood red, and so sweet to her nose. She stroked a petal, down the soft textured stem, until her finger skimmed a thorn. A tiny prick against her skin, until she pushed enough to pierce and felt a sharper sting. Blood welled on the pad of her thumb, and she stared in wonder.

Images flooded her mind. Faces she barely remembered, a hundred voices saying Shoshanna, Shoshanna, and then the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, blue-green eyes glowing against a smiling face.And if she didn't spin in place to see that she was still alone, she could have sworn she felt a hand on her face.

She dropped the rose and whirled around. This place wasn't real. The gray cat twined around her legs and looked up, letting out an inquisitive mrow?

"What's going on?" she asked.

When she bent to pet Ursula, the sight of her hand startled her. It was covered with a glowing filigree, impossibly intricate lacework markings like fabric against her warm brown skin. Sweeping her fingers over her other arm revealed similar markings there, and she rose, staring at her own hands.

The world shifted once more, and those markings were too bright, too painful to look at. As the world shuddered, she saw herself wrapped in thick black vines, tangling her deep in graveyard soil, oily black water covering her. Her chest heaved, her lungs collapsing as she buckled beneath the crushing weight, and?—

"Mrow?"

Ursula bumped her hard enough to startle her, and Shoshanna lifted her up. When she picked up the cat, she stared into its eerie silver-blue eyes. In those depths were cosmic labyrinths, impossible complexities, a kaleidoscope of understanding and magic.

"What are you?" she murmured.

The cat's head cocked, and then she licked Shoshanna's nose. As she did, a single word went through her mind.

Protect. Learn. Wait.

She settled back into her chair, staring in wonder at the fluffy gray cat. Then the feline jumped onto the table and nudged an impossibly heavy book closer to Shoshanna. Her furry gray head cocked, and she placed a paw on the purple leather cover.

"Should I read this one?"

Ursula moved her paw.

"All right," Shoshanna said tentatively.

And so, she began to read again.

How long hadshe been studying the same tome? Shoshanna sat back and rubbed her eyes. As she yawned and stretched, she caught the faint tinkling cascade of piano keys. Sitting upright, she looked around. There were no other doors except that heavy wooden one that led to the terrifying darkness, but she heard music distinctly.

She rose and tiptoed toward the wooden door. The music grew louder, beckoning her closer. The lilting waltz was familiar, and she found herself murmuring, "I danced with you once upon a dream," as she pressed her ear to the door. As her skin contacted the rough wood, the door rattled with three sharp knocks.

She yelped and recoiled, hands up in self-defense. Beyond the small window was not darkness, but a brilliant golden light. Her heart thumped as she pondered it. Looking back, she saw Ursula sitting on the table, tail curled around her feet as she watched.

"Should I open it?" she asked.

Ursula stared silently, as if to say, I'm a cat, why are you asking me?

Feeling rather silly, Shoshanna reached out and tapped the door. She knew that this place wasn't real. Nothing had hurt her so far, but there was no way she'd read that towering stack of books so quickly without eating or sleeping.

However, she also knew that she wasn't ready to understand where she was. Once she really opened her eyes she wouldn't be able to unsee what really lay around her. For now, the dream would do.

There were three more knocks at the door, and the stone floor trembled beneath her feat. She spun around and saw a strange place. Instead of the cozy library, there was a sitting room, with a lovely lacquered grand piano, and a beautiful oil painting on the wall of a handsome blue-eyed man with a woman on his arm.

"Alistair?" she murmured.

A deafening sound rang out from the piano, and she backed away.

Another sharp knock at the door.

Steeling herself, she yanked it open. The howling wind rushed into the room, whipping her robe around her legs, but she kept it open. Far below, glowing soft and hazy against the sea of darkness, shone a pool of light that looked curiously like a doorway.

And stranger still, rose petals were scattered in the air just past her door. They hung perfectly still, as if scattered on an unseen stair.

She looked back and saw Ursula still sitting on the table, licking one of her paws, apparently unfazed by the optical illusions rushing all around. Gripping the stone door frame tightly, Shoshanna extended one leg, tapping her slippered foot near the rose petals.

Something was there. She gasped and yanked her foot back, then tested it again. It had a bit of give, like wet-packed sand along the beach at low-tide. Still holding the frame, she eased out and pushed against the unseen surface with her foot. It held firm.

"What the hell are you doing?" she muttered.

A light wind rippled around her feet, scattering the rose petals. She shrieked in surprise, but they gathered again near her foot, a bit lower and further out, as if they were forming steps. Curiosity tugged her forward, and she gingerly stepped further from the door, now with both slippered feet on the?—

don't look, thin air above a water grave

—petal-scattered surface. She held her breath and took a step down to the next set of petals, which immediately blew away to a lower point. Below her, the dark shadows clashed and roiled, but there was something soothing in the back of her mind, that piano music she'd heard before.

One by one, painstaking step by step, she followed the trail. Vertigo grasped at her, and she told herself not to look down, to trust that her foot would find purchase. Though it appeared she was walking through open air, her foot was on solid, warm ground that felt like sun-kissed sand.

She dared to look down as her foot touched the unseen surface, and noticed a strange, geometric pattern illuminated in red. It was so familiar, and for some reason, it made her reach for the back of her neck. Her skin was searing hot to the touch, and she heard that familiar cascade of piano music again.

Shoshanna, come home.

The deep voice called to her, insistent and calm. She looked back and saw that glowing door to the tower so far behind and above her. A tiny shadow lingered in the doorway.It was safe and warm back there. Perhaps she should return.

Below her, big reptilian eyes opened in those terrible depths, and great mouths gaped open, full of bloody teeth to swallow her whole. Her body swayed, and she found herself slipping, falling and?—

Shoshanna. Listen to me.

The sweet perfume of rose petals drifted to her nose, and she looked down to see a dense blanket of flowers beneath her feet. They swirled and lifted, gently guiding her further onward, down, down, and then she was dancing over each of them, carried along on the tinkling melody that was calling her home. She pitched headlong into the golden light and into?—

Shouts of surprise, sharp pain in her throat as she gasped for air. Firm hands pressed to her cheeks, and she opened her eyes to see Alistair staring at her, tears pouring over his cheeks. "Mein Gott," he blurted, all but crushing her to his chest. "I thought I would lose you. I thought I would die."

"I'm okay," she rasped. "I think."

Her eyes felt like sandpaper, and her mouth tasted of ash, but she was conscious, or so it seemed. Suddenly, the memory of all those curses broken, all those strange visions, flooded back. She pushed him away and looked around suspiciously. "I want to see your eyes," she said, holding Alistair's face.

His dark brows arched, but he stared at her intently as she tilted his face back and forth. That lovely shade of blue-green that couldn't quite be pinned down, just as always. Her head ached, but she let her eyes relax and shifted into her arcane sight. The room was alight with magic, most of it focused in tight spirals and sigils created by Misha's hand. Her own frame glowed with power, bright as ever.

Scarlett stood at the foot of her bed, and she bore a deep bruise-like mark on her chest, but it was not the yawning black hole of magic that she'd been carrying.Magneto was curled in her arms, and he wriggled free as Scarlett laughed.

The cat pounced into her lap, and she snuggled him close. Just to be certain, she looked into his yellow-green eyes. No sign of cosmic sentience beyond natural understanding. Good.

She frowned and said, "How long was I out?"

"Four days," Julian said.

She gasped. "Four days? I was— What about Armina? I need to?—"

Alistair chuckled and pressed a hand to her chest. "She's done. It's over. All you need to do now is rest. You were gone for so long… You wouldn't wake."

"But you brought me back," she said quietly.

His eyes lifted over her shoulder. "I helped, but it was Julian. All of us helped."

She turned to look at the older vampire, who smiled faintly. "You brought me back?"

"The Covenant binds you to me," Julian said, taking her hand gently. When he squeezed her hand, a warm pulse ignited in the back of her neck, and she was struck with the image of rose petals on the breeze. "Did you hear my voice?"

"No, but I heard you anyway," she said. "This is fascinating. I want to get this written down."

At that, several of the others burst out laughing. "She's fine," Misha said drily. "Let's leave these two alone."