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He smiled. ‘Fuck off, Lucy,’ he said lightly. ‘If you die in there, I will set the world on fire. I will kill every single arrogant fucker here, every single one that laid a bet on the timing of your death. I will not rest until I have ripped out every black heart from every one of their cursed chests and stained this marble floor with their blood.’
‘Then you’ll die, my love,’ I said tightly.
‘We all die.’
‘Dragons don’t,’ I hissed. ‘Be more dragon.’
He smirked. ‘Now you sound like my mum.’
I glared. ‘Ouch.’
He laughed. ‘Go on, Peaches. I’ll be waiting here for you when you return. And you will return. I know it and you know it.’
I grinned suddenly. ‘I do know it.’
He guffawed. ‘They’re going to be so pissed off when you stroll back in. Be ready at dawn,’ he parroted my own words back to me.
‘Wiseass. I was born ready.’ I flicked a blonde tendril over my shoulder. ‘I’ll see you later.’
‘You will,’ he swore, eyes blazing.
I longed for one last kiss but I forced myself to pull out of his magnetic field one aching step at a time. He would be waiting for me; the longing for him would sustain me and ensure that I came out of the seat of power alive with the Crown of Torr – whatever the fuck that was. Failure was not an option.
I strode forward confidently. I removed my high heels at the edge of the gravel path; I’d walked enough times on grass to know that stilettos sank, and staggering around pulling my heels out with every step would not be a good look. I put the shoes on the ground and stepped onto the grass barefoot.
The April weather was unseasonably warm and the grass was dry beneath my feet. I fancied that I could feel every blade of grass as I walked to the seat of power with measured slowness. The wolves behind me were here for pomp and ceremony so I would give them that in spades.
I reached out with my magic, not to any creature or to the house but to the trees on the land. Perhaps there was an ancient tree here, full of wisdom and mystery. The Elder tree had saved me once, before; perhaps one here could do the same, or at least give me an early warning if Elliott or his cronies were planning a sneak attack whilst I was in the house.
I skimmed the trees’ consciousness but there was no weight to them: none had aged more than a century. The trees nearest the seat of power had no birds in their branches, no fruit among their leaves. They did not seem to mind, though; they knew that their presence helped soothe the house and they were happy to do so because the house had once been a dryad tree.
I pulled back from their minds. The trees had told me that by showing me an image of a tree and a small dryad girl, her skin a dark shade of green, stepping into it with a smile. What had disconcerted me was the flash of fangs: the dryad girl was a vampyr, too.
I was beginning to understand how a sentient house was created and why they were apparently the exclusive purview of the vampyrs. It also explained something that had been bugging me for some time: in a realm where strength was the biggest trump card, the gentle dryads seemed to do quite well. I had often wondered why they didn’t get attacked.
Dryads appeared to be a peaceful race, but I knew full well they trained with weapons from a very early age. For all they loved their trees, they were fierce, yet they never seemed to get involved in inter-species’ fights; indeed, they often acted as mediators. I suspected that they had made some sort of deal with the vampyrs: they would give them some dryads for their sentient houses in exchange for species’ protection.
A few months earlier that idea would have been insane, but the Other realm was more familiar now. I knew its occupants and I was beginning to learn some of its secrets. I hoped that knowing this one would save my life.
I took a deep breath and knocked on the door with both my fist and my magic. ‘Hello?’ I called out as I stepped into the house. ‘My name is Lucy Barrett and the Great Pack has proclaimed me Queen.’
I let my magic reach out and connect with the mind I sensed all around me. As the connection was made, a staggering sense of hunger and loneliness washed through me.
Oh finally! You took your sweet time. And don’t get me started on the Great Pack! A female voice spat into my mind. What is so great about it? Nothing! It has abandoned ME!’ The house shrieked the last words and its fury whipped around me, but it was the flash of hurt in her voice that gave me hope.
‘Not willingly,’ I said hastily. ‘Never willingly!’ Had no one ever been to the house to tell her about the curse? ‘The witches cursed the werewolves. They turned anyone that went feral – golden-eyed – into gargoyles. They intended the curse to separate the wolves from the humans and end them forever, but the curse didn’t work as they had intended. Instead they separated all wolves from the Great Pack. The Great Pack has been silent to all of us for two hundred years.’
Two hundred years? the house said slowly. Have I been alone so long?
‘I’m sorry the wolves forgot about you.’
They couldn’t speak to me anymore, she said sulkily. I tried and tried but they couldn’t hear me no matter how loudly I shouted.
‘That must have been very hard for you. You must have been very lonely.’
I tried not to think of the deer’s screams. Lonely – and apparently very hungry. I’d felt the depth of her hunger and it was a wonder she wasn’t mad with it. How long had starvation gnawed at her guts whilst she merely survived, living and not living at the same time, stuck in a tree that could not sustain her in lands where the wolves could not hear her?
I was alone for a very long time, she admitted. Terrance doesn’t count because he’s dead, even if he refuses to admit it.
