I asked Juliet if she’d come across any news of Pryce while she was tracking the Old Ones.
“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all.” Then the door opened. Juliet disappeared in a blink, before the new customers came inside.
Pryce was out there somewhere, plotting. If he hated Mab for imprisoning his father, he now hated me exponentially more for killing him. I didn’t know how the life force he stole from me would affect him. When I reached out with my mind, searching, I got a big blank. No connection to him at all. But could he sense me? Did he know where I was right now? The questions creeped me out, but I couldn’t dismiss them.
A waltz came on. Kane stood and asked Mab to dance. As he whirled her around the room, I felt a twinge of sadness that Gwen wasn’t here. I’d invited her, even though I knew she wouldn’t come. Gwen would never set foot in Creature Comforts, let alone for a bon voyage party for Mab.
Tina sat down in Kane’s seat and bugged me to quiz her. “Go on,” she said, nudging me with her arm, “ask me anything about
“Not now, Tina.”
She pouted. “Then give me a sip of your beer.”
“You’re not twenty-one yet.”
“So? I just want a sip. Zombies can’t even get drunk.”
I picked up the bottle and looked at the pale yellow contents. Nobody—zombie, human, or otherwise—would ever get drunk off this stuff. “No, Tina. If Axel won’t serve you, I’m not sneaking you beer.”
She threw herself back in her chair. Then she leaned forward again. “Come on.” Another nudge. “Just one question.” Her red eyes gleamed with eagerness.
I put my bottle on the table. “Mab says you’re going to school again. Is that true?”
Tina nodded, looking almost embarrassed to admit it.
“Tell you what. Next Monday, come over after school. We can go over
“Really? Does that mean—?”
“Don’t push it, Tina.”
And for once, she didn’t.
MAB RETURNED TO WALES. I WAS SAD TO SEE HER GO, BUT it was where she belonged. Her strength came from the land there, she’d said, and I wanted my aunt to stay strong for a good, long time.
It didn’t really feel like she was gone. I was conscious of her in a way that was new. It wasn’t like I could hear her thoughts or see through her eyes, but an awareness of my aunt was a constant presence in some corner of my mind. Adding my blood to the bloodstone had helped to renew the stone; it had also brought us closer. I cherished the connection.
That night as I slept, a rose and gold mist filled my dreamscape.
“Gwen?”
The mist cleared. My sister sat in a rocking chair, wearing her nightgown. The chair glided rhythmically back and forth. “I used to rock Maria to sleep in this chair when she was a baby.”
“How are you doing?” I asked. “How’s Maria?”
“She told me she called you, and that you showed her how to control her dreamscape.” Her laugh sounded sad. “Want to show me, too?”
I waited.
“I can’t stop dreaming about that night. It’s like a looped tape that plays endlessly, over and over and over and over . . .” She pounded her fists on the arms of her chair. Then she closed her eyes and rocked for a few minutes. She stopped and looked at me.
“I talked to Mom,” she said.
“What did she say?”
“That you should pick up a phone once in a while.”
“She’s right.” I’d intended to call Mom and ask her to talk with Gwen about Maria, but events had gotten in the way. But events always do that, even when you’re not stopping a murderer. They were no excuse. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“She also said that Maria’s not my baby anymore. That I should give her time, let her explore and make her own decisions. Like she did for us.”
“She did pretty well with her kids. Both of us.”
Gwen lay her head back, as if she were looking at the sky. “Mab’s gone?”
“I took her to the airport last night.”
She nodded and rocked a few minutes more. “Too many things are changing—Maria, my feelings, even the past.” She shook her head in bemusement. “You’d think the past, at least, would stay put. How on earth did that woman manage to change it?”
“She didn’t. She just showed you something you missed at the time.”
“I know. And I even know it’s the truth. Gut-level.” She smiled distantly. “I may have lost shapeshifting when I became a mother, but I gained intuition.”
Silence settled again.
“I can’t let go of the past all at once, Vicky.”
I thought about Myrddin’s curse on Mab, how she carried the pain of her sister’s death with her through time. “But you can let it go eventually. Just do it a little at a time.”
“Should I have said good-bye to her? I thought about it. I had the keys in my hand to drive to that farewell party before I chickened out.”
In that corner of my mind, my sense of Mab stirred, like she could feel Gwen’s regret. “I don’t think she’s bothered you didn’t say good-bye. I think she’d rather you start with hello.”
Later, after Gwen had gone, a dream unfolded in my dreamscape. I didn’t try to shape or control it. I just let it happen. It was a simple dream. Mab stood beside me. Then Gwen appeared on my other side, holding Maria’s hand. Four Cerddorion women, each one different, but standing together and looking forward, not back.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nancy Holzner grew up in western Massachusetts with her nose stuck in a book. This meant that she tended to walk into things, wore glasses before she was out of elementary school, and forced her parents to institute a “no reading at the dinner table” rule. It was probably inevitable that she majored in English in college and then, because there were still a lot of books she wanted to read, continued her studies long enough to earn a master’s degree and a PhD.
She began her career as a medievalist, then jumped off the tenure track to try some other things. Besides teaching English and philosophy, she’s worked as a technical writer, freelance editor, instructional designer, college admissions counselor, and corporate trainer.
Nancy lives in upstate New York with her husband, Steve, where they both work from home without getting on each other’s nerves. She enjoys visiting local wineries and listening obsessively to opera. There are still a lot of books she wants to read.
Visit Nancy’s Web site at www.nancyholzner.com.
DEADTOWN
HELLFORGED
