Immortal Beloved: Darkness Falls Part 11

Her fingers were still pressing my nose tightly. "Be still!" she admonished. "You'll knock it out of joint again." She began to murmur rapidly under her breath. One hand held my nose in place and one hand gracefully drew sigils and runes in the air with amazing rapidity. Healing spells. Again, useful spells that I did not know. Then I remembered that I'd been learning a healing spell when I had made the library vomit books.

"Okay," she murmured a minute or two later. "Now let's tape it into place." She quickly tore off a piece of white bandage tape and carefully placed it across my nose. She looked at her handiwork and smiled. "You look like a little boxer," she said. "After a prizefight."

"Bantamweight. I was just thinking that," said Solis.

I had zero response to this. Ze-ro.

"Now, sit up and finish this tea."

I did. Already the pain in my nose was lessening. When the mug was empty, I didn't sound like Elmer Fudd anymore.

"Now, what happened?" Solis asked just as River and Reyn came into the room.

Could Reyn see me just once in decent clothes, with my hair brushed? Apparently not. "What happened?" he echoed, looking pretty forbidding.

I didn't want to talk about the wreck. I was pretty sure it was my own darkness that had caused the car to become suicidal. "I went to town," I began reluctantly, with the instant, oops, recollection that I'd run off without telling anyone. "Everything was fine, car was fine. Then, on the driveway, the car picked up speed without me noticing. I tried to slow down, but the brakes were out." I paused, trying to remember exactly. "I realized I was going to wreck-I was going to cream River's red truck. But the steering wheel turned, and I couldn't stop it. It aimed me right at the tree."

"Did you try the parking brake?" Solis asked.

I nodded. "I yanked up on it, but it didn't do anything."

River came over and smoothed her hand over my hair. The longer pieces in front had blood drying on them. "How come you went to town?" she asked gently.

"I had to get something. Really quick."

"The car was spelled," Reyn said.

River looked concerned. "I was able to stop the engine. I felt dark magick, strong magick, but it was very well done. I couldn't pick up on any signature. Where did you park, in town? How long were you away from the car?"

"Not long," I said. "I parked at the curb, outside of Early's. I couldn't have been gone more than ten minutes?" Then my eyebrows rose as I realized what she was saying. She thought that maybe someone had put a spell on my car in town. And then I remembered: In my last dream about Incy, he had been in the Liberty Hotel, in Boston. In my previous visions, when I could tell where he was, he'd been in California. Was Incy actually in Boston? Maybe even closer? Could it have been him? Him, and not me? After a moment, I shook my head, which was a mistake. I was so tired of thinking about all this.

Asher came in. My small room was really crowded. "I just heard," he said, looking at me, then at River.

"Go look at Nastasya's car, will you?" River asked him. "I couldn't get anything, but maybe you can."

He nodded and left, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Anne stood up. "Rest for a while," she said. "Come down for lunch."

"Okay." Everyone filed out and my room became peaceful again.

Reyn lingered by the door. He didn't say anything-just looked at me. I felt embarra.s.sed. It would probably be comforting to have his arms around me. Did that show in my eyes? Could he tell what I was thinking?

After a couple seconds, or maybe an hour, he turned and left, silent as an a.s.sa.s.sin.

I slept.

CHAPTER 14.

Is he coming?" I whispered to Eyds.

Eyds peeked around the heavy tapestry. "No," she barely breathed.

We grinned at each other in delight. I was seven; she was nine. We were hiding from our pesky younger brother, Hakon, who always wanted to follow us. We didn't hate him, but he was only not-even-four yet, and he was making us crazy. We'd found an excellent hiding spot: The walls of my father's castle were made of stone. In Iceland. So almost all of them were covered with huge hanging tapestries through every season except summer. Eyds and I were both really skinny, and if we stood on tiptoe and inhaled, we made barely a ripple in the fabric. It had been working splendidly for days-Hakon was losing his mind with frustration.

"Riders! My lord, riders!" The loud shout came from the bailey outside. Instantly, Eyds and I heard the clink of weapons and s.h.i.+elds, the neighing of horses. We ran to a nearby window and cranked it open, unable to see through the wavy gla.s.s. Far in the distance, rising over the crest of mountain that defined my father's land, was a small group of riders. They didn't look like a huge threat, but still-they could be merely a scouting party.

"Pull the gates!" people were shouting below. My father's steward was making sure we were locking sheep and goats and all our horses inside our walls before six men pulled on the chains, as thick as my arm, that closed the bailey gates.

Eyds and I watched for hours. Hakon found us, of course, and I pulled a stool over so he could stand on it and watch also. No more riders came-we counted seven when they were close enough. Slowly, slowly, their details came into focus: One was carrying a color standard, showing what clan they were from.

By the time they stopped outside the city walls, word had come to us, by runner: The riders were carrying the standard of lfur Haraldsson, my father. It had been unmistakable, the runner wheezed-five black bears on a red background, crowned with a wreath of oak leaves.

There was tremendous excitement: The riders were my uncle and his men! I hadn't even known I had an uncle!

We all raced downstairs and waited with my father in front of his hrkur-castle is too big a word. Like a big stone manor house that looked like a small castle. To my surprise I saw that my father was wearing his crown-a thin gold circlet set with rubies and pearls, with one brown diamond in the center. He almost never wore it. I guessed he wanted to look fancy for his brother. My mother had on her second-best gown-a deep blue heavy linen with slashed sleeves laced up with gold threads. Beneath her linen cap, her hair was in two braids, long enough to sit on. She was wearing the amulet she always wore, and looked beautiful and solemn.

The gates opened with groans and creaks, and then my uncle and his men rode in. They had big black horses, and, yes, one of the men was carrying the same standard that my father's man carried when Fair rode to another town to visit, or when there was trouble and he had to bring his army someplace.

I began to run to meet them, but my father clamped his hand on my shoulder with an iron grip. I looked up at him, and then my mother pulled me behind her. "Wait, Lilja," she murmured. "Your father goes first."

The man in front swung off his horse. He looked like my father, big and fair, but younger and less hardened by battle. He came and made a sweeping bow before my father, which people did all the time.

My father stepped forward and held out his arms. "Geir! It's been far too long!" They hugged, patting each other hard on the back. I was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

When my mother introduced us-my two sisters, my two brothers, and me-I blurted, "I didn't know I had an uncle!"

Uncle Geir made an unusual face and glanced at my father. "You used to have several," he said. "But now there's only me."

"Come in, Geir," said my father. "You must be tired from the journey."

We had a special dinner that night. I fell asleep while my father and Uncle Geir were still talking. Not long after dawn I woke up in my bed, threw on my clothes, and raced downstairs. Uncle Geir had told such interesting stories. I had forgotten to ask if he had children. Maybe they could come to visit.

I was about to knock on my father's study door when I heard raised voices coming from inside. I knew they had to be raised, because this door was four inches thick-you had to shout to be heard outside Fair's study.

"Lilja, what are you doing?" My mother stood there with the housekeeper, her arms full of linens.

"I wanted to see Fair," I said. "But listen: Why are he and Uncle Geir arguing?"

In our language, we had different words for an uncle from the father's side and an uncle from the mother's side. It translated to, literally, "Father-brother" and "Mother-brother."

"Shah," my mother said, taking my hand and pulling me away. "They're not arguing. They're both big bears of men and talk loudly. Now go have breakfast. There's cold rabbit from last night."

So I ran off. The next morning, my father and my uncle and my uncle's men and some of my father's men set off to go hunting for the wild boars that ran through the woods.

It was sunset before my father and his men came home. My father looked weary and heartsick: A tragedy had occurred. Uncle Geir, though unfamiliar with our land, had laughingly challenged my father to a race. My father shouted a warning at him, but Geir refused to listen. "He was ever headstrong," my father said.

Uncle Geir and his men had rushed on ahead through the woods, despite my father's shouted cautions. As we all knew, in one place the woods stopped suddenly, dropping away to a steep cliff. The sea had reclaimed the land there, and the huge, sharp boulders below were lapped by white-capped waves. My uncle and his men had been unable to stop on their fast horses, and they had all gone over the cliff. By the time my father and his men had climbed down with ropes, they had already been washed away.

I was crying by the time my father finished the story, and so were Eyds and Hakon. My oldest sister, Tinna, and my older brother, Sigmundur, bore the news stoically, as befitted the children of lfur the Wolf. But I sobbed into my mother's skirt. My one and only uncle, and now he was gone forever. What a tragedy.

I blinked slowly, leaving behind the severe, beautiful stone cliffs of Iceland and awakening to my cozy room at River's. I hadn't thought about my uncle in centuries. Now, with a grown-up's hindsight, I saw the truth. My uncle and his men had not died in a tragic hunting accident. My father and his men had killed them, so he would be the only brother left and have all his family's power.

I put my fist up to my mouth, overcome with sad horror. Until Geir came, I hadn't even known he existed. And apparently there had been others-also killed by my father, or by Geir? My mind darted from one ancient conversation or snippet of knowledge to the next: Growing up, I'd had no cousins, had thought both my parents were only children and that their parents had died when they were young. Now I had no idea if that was true. Maybe they had each systematically ensured their positions as sole heirs.

My mother had known the truth about my uncle's death-I was sure of it. She had looked grim and determined all that day. I'd always thought of my father as the harsh, ambitious one. Now I realized that my mother had been an equal partner to him.

Oh G.o.ddess. Until I was in my twenties, I'd had no idea I was even immortal. Just that had been a huge shock. Until I'd come to River's Edge, I hadn't put all the clues together to realize that my father had been the head of one of the eight major houses of immortals. And it was only now, today, that my brain was admitting what he and my mother had probably done to ensure their position.

I was the child of murderers.

I had another thought: Knowing what they did about ruthless, deadly sibling rivalry, why on earth had my parents had five children?

I sat up in my bed and hugged my knees to my chest, now wide awake. My breathing became shallow as a possibility occurred to me, and though I would never know for sure, as soon as I thought it, it sank like truth to the bottom of my stomach. My parents had five children, knowing that, most likely, only one of us could be the head of our clan.

My brothers and sisters and I had loved one another. We had shared and played together and cooperated.

It was one thing to kill a stranger or an enemy. It was another thing altogether to have enough ambition to kill someone you loved. A person strong enough to kill siblings he or she actually loved-that would be a very strong person indeed. That person would be ruthless enough, determined enough to actually be the head of the House of lfur.

I was shaking with cold all over again and untangled myself from my blankets to turn up my radiator. I got a glimpse of my messed-up face and grimaced. I put on a clean flannel s.h.i.+rt since it b.u.t.toned and wouldn't have to go over my head. With an immortal's typical recuperative powers, I'd be fine in a day or two, all trace of injury gone. But right now I felt like... um, like I'd been in a car wreck.

I'd just looped and knotted a scarf around my neck, trying to remember what Lorenz had done, when a gentle tap on the door alerted me to River's presence.

"Come in," I called.

"Hi," she said. "Feeling a little better?"

"Not really."

"Do you want some lunch? There was chicken soup."

I nodded. "That sounds good." Then the juxtaposition of this normal conversation and the horrible thoughts I'd just been having sort of clashed in my mind, and I burst into tears.

Here's a tip: Try not to cry when you have a broken nose. It's a big, painful mess.

I was so tired of crying. Tired of having huge, soul-crus.h.i.+ng realizations about a life that, while stupid, selfish, and pointless, had never before forced me to face any truths about myself.

"Nastasya," River said at last. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." I sat up and got the box of tissues by my bed. People here tried to use cloth handkerchiefs instead of these, but I hadn't drunk that Kool-Aid yet. I mean, it's a tissue. Please.

I started lobbing used tissues into my wastepaper basket.

"What do you think happened?"

I couldn't look at her as I said out loud the words that had been eating into me for days. "Maybe... it's just my darkness? I feel like it's coming out, like it's affecting everything around me. My job. My magick. Everything."

River was silent for several minutes while I played with the fringes on the end of my scarf.

"Hmm," she said at last. "And our other option is to wonder who would try to hurt you."

I looked up, wis.h.i.+ng I could blame this on someone else. "Incy, I guess. That's the only one I can think of." Would I feel him, if he were nearby? Would River pick up on his darkness? She could sense mine.

"Okay. Now, why do you think you caused this?"

"I don't know," I said, then I blurted the inevitable. "I'm just dark! I'm the dark child of dark parents, from a long line of dark ancestors. I can't escape it! It's useless to try." I started crying again.

River's hand stilled on my shoulder. "You believe that?"

"There's no believe or not-believe," I choked out. "It just is. That's how it is. That's the reality." Oh my G.o.d, I hated reality so, so much. I would take fantasy any day. When River didn't say anything, I went on, telling her about what I'd realized about my father, my uncle, my parents.

"That's who I'm descended from," I said. "That's the blood in my veins." I looked at River's face and saw compa.s.sion but also a thoughtful stillness, as if I were a puzzle she was trying to figure out.

"And I wanted to be his heir?" I said. "I wanted to be the daughter worthy of lfur the Wolf? What was I thinking? I must have been crazy! And Reyn!" I was getting more and more worked up, thoughts and pain spilling out of me like blood from a wound.

"What about Reyn?" River asked.

I took a shuddering breath. "That... thing we have between us. I don't know what it is. But we have this... thing. He's the winter raider, the Butcher of Winter, responsible for the deaths of who knows how many! I'm the sole heir to the House of lfur the Murderer! That's us. If we actually got together, the world would explode! I knew it would be a disaster, but I mean it really would be a disaster!"

"You feel that you're so dark that there isn't any choice anymore?" River asked.

"There never was a choice," I said bleakly. "That was... an illusion. Or wishful thinking. But there's no escape." This hurt much more than I would have expected.

"Nastasya, listen to me." River sounded very serious and put her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. "There's always, always, always a choice. You have to believe me. Most of us start in darkness. Many of us stay there. I don't know if it's just an immortal thing, but I've found that to be true, across the world. But it is also true that there is always a choice. No matter how dark you are, no matter what you think your heritage is or how inevitable your fall is, you can always make a choice in the next second to be different."

I'd heard it before. She just didn't understand. Yes, her family had been slave traders, which was bad. My parents had eliminated their siblings. And probably done even worse things. Things I prayed I would never find out.

"You don't believe me," she said when I was silent. "You think I don't understand and that you and your family were so much darker than mine."

Dammit. "My face is not that expressive."

"Nas, I know you." Her voice was gentle but insistent. "I really do know you. I know you all the way down. I see everything you are, light and dark and everything in between. I see things you haven't even discovered yet. And I love you, as is."

My throat closed up. She was lying. I wondered if I could leap out the window before River could stop me.

"Forget it, it's locked," she said.

"You're eavesdropping!" I accused her angrily.

"Please. You hate talking about emotion. Right now you're so uncomfortable you're practically writhing, you have a 'shut up' expression on your face, and your eyes flicked toward the window. A kindergartner could have put it together."

"I need to get out of here." I stood up so quickly, I almost knocked her over. Lightning fast, she grabbed my hand and yanked. I sat down hard on my bed, jarring my nose and everything else. I was shocked-hadn't even seen her move.