Thus the Feast of Forbidden Dreams began.
I trembled as each dream was siphoned off, each one like another layer of skin being ripped away. I clenched my fists, trapped in silence, cut off from the fragrance of the forest deep, hidden from the healing light of the moon, betrayed by one of my own clansmen, one I myself had invited. I wished I could see Elspeth one last time, wished that I would have been able to break through the barrier of fear within Maddie, that I could have shown her another side of myself.
But humans can’t accept Darklings—our worlds are too different. To them, I would always be a monster that needed to be destroyed.
My heartbeat slowed to the droning pace of a requiem poem. My blood thinned and my limbs grew cold.
I fought for a few moments more, holding on to that last dream, the one that had bloomed tonight in the midst of the Hunt—the dream that I could be forgiven for what I had done to the Driscolls. And that I might be able to love again. I hid this last dream deep in my heart, where the red-black blood still glittered and sparked, where a few beats still remained.
I would not give this last one up. I would keep it locked and hidden, no matter how fierce the battle with Thane, willing to take this one with me into the Land of Dreams.
When my soul was finally pried loose.
And that would be soon. Very soon.
Chapter 92
Red-Black Hands
Maddie:
I stood, bathed in silver light, head cocked to one side, listening to the battle, remembering the last bitter words spoken by Ash. A heavy silence now reigned. I couldn’t hear him anymore, couldn’t feel his heartbeat pulsing in my red-black hands, couldn’t smell his fragrance seeping through the horde of Darkling wings that surrounded him.
No. This will not happen.
You will not take him from me.
I clenched my fists, then ran toward the crowd of black and gray flesh that separated me from Ash. I raced across the torn and muddy field, leaping over those humans who still slept, anger replacing any fear I might have had. I struck the Darklings on their leathery backs, surprised when sparks tumbled from every blow.
“Let me in!” I cried, though none of them moved aside.
Instead, one of the beasts turned his head and snarled. He swiveled around until he faced me, his mouth open wide to reveal dagger-sharp teeth. He snapped and growled with a sinister grin, threatened to bite my arm if I dared strike him again.
Then, suddenly, two ghost-white creatures came between us, they grabbed the menacing Darkling and cast him aside, sent him tumbling into the distant wood.
I stared at the hovering transparent beings, who in turn looked back at me in silence. They glowed from the silver light of the moon, as if made of fire. Nick and Pinch. They came nearer until they stood at my side; they each bowed a knee to me.
“Send us in,” they said in unison, their voices rough as a winter storm. “All you need do is give us the word.”
Ash’s daughter was beside me, fists clenched, tears on her cheeks. She nodded.
Then I—Madeline MacFaddin, known to many as Mad Mac—turned and pointed toward the Darkling flock that would not move, that would not let me pass.
“Go!” I said.
It was such a simple command and yet both Nick and Pinch knew exactly what I wanted and were willing to do it. With hearts ablaze, my transparent creatures pushed their way through the growling horde.
And their magic was stronger than any the Darklings had ever seen.
Chapter 93
Smoke in the Wind
Ash:
My dreams continued to be peeled away, from skin to bone to marrow, and then finally to soul. With each passing second, I felt as if I was becoming a mere wisp of who I had once been. Cherished memories rose to the surface, only to disappear: my father teaching me how to hunt through the midnight streets of Amsterdam; Lily pausing during a harvest to kiss me, the wildness of it stealing my breath; Elspeth running and laughing as a child, delicate wings lifting her off the ground for her first flight. My memories were fading and with each one, my dreams were being stolen as well. Before long, I would be nothing but a wraith, exiled from this world forever. Still, I clung to that one last dream until it consumed me, until it became all that I was. Everything else had been burned off and destroyed.
All the dreams of revenge faded, turned into smoke in the wind.
All hope of being set free from the curse—of one day pledging Ticonderoga Falls to Elspeth as her birthright—vanished.
All the hunger and anger and disappointment evaporated—the serpentine veins that had laced through me and held me captive against my will for nearly a century crumbled and broke.