Shadowfever
Page 51
But not only didnt I have any idea where he went at night, I could barely move. Pain had been the glue keeping my will strong and my bones together. Without it, I was limp.
Tomorrow was another day.
And he was going to be alive in it!
I stripped and crawled into bed.
I passed out while I was still pulling the covers up and slept like a woman whod hiked through hell without food or rest for months.
My dreams were so vivid, I felt like I was living them.
I dreamed I was watching Darroc die again, enraged that his death was being stolen from me so anticlimactically, my revenge snatched away, in the pinch of a Hunters talons. I dreamed I was back in the Silvers, searching for Christian but never finding him. I dreamed I was at the abbey, on the floor of the cell, and Rowena came in and slit my throat. I felt the lifeblood gurgle out of me, turning the dirt floor to mud. I dreamed I was in the Cold Place, chasing the beautiful woman that I couldnt catch up with, and then I dreamed Id actually done itdestroyed the world and replaced it with one I wanted. Afterward, I flew over my new world, astride the mighty, ancient KVruck. His great black wings whipped my hair into a tangle, and I laughed like a demon while the dissonant, haunting notes of Pink Martinis remix of Qu Sera Sera tinkled like a harpsichord from hell.
I slept for sixteen hours.
I needed every minute of it. The past three days were a surreal nightmare and had exhausted me.
The first thing I did when I woke up was pull Barrons note out from under my pillow and read it again to reassure myself he was alive.
Then I dashed down the stairs so fast I slid down the last five steps on my pajama-clad ass, desperate for confirmation that the bookstore was indeed still trashed.
It was. I did a celebratory dance in the debris.
Because it was afternoon and Barrons rarely came around until early evening, I went back upstairs and took a long, hot shower. I conditioned, exfoliated, and shaved.
I leaned back against the wall, stretched out my legs, and watched water splash over the spear strapped to my thigh, letting my mind go blank while I relaxed.
Unfortunately, my mind wouldnt stay blank and my body wouldnt relax. The muscles in my legs kept tensing, my neck and shoulders were tight, and my fingers tapped a fast staccato on the shower floor.
Something was bothering me. A lot. Beneath my happy surface, a dark storm was brewing.
How could anything be bothering me? My world was blue skies all the way, despite Dublins constant rain. How could I not be blissfully happy at this moment? It was a good day. Barrons was alive. Darroc was dead. I was no longer stuck in the Silvers, fighting myriad monsters and dodging illusions.
I frowned, realizing that was exactly the problem.
At this moment, there was nothing wrong, besides the usual fate of the world stuffId become mostly inured to.
I couldnt deal with that. Id been compressed, gripped in a painful vise. Id gotten used to it.
It was things being wrong that had given me shape and purpose and kept me going.
But in the past twenty-four hours, Id gone from being one hundred percent consumed by grief and rage to having every single reason for feeling those emotions stripped away.
Barrons was alive. Griefpoof!
The man Id believed had murdered my sister, the one Id been so committed to killing, was dead. The infamous Lord Master was gone.
That chapter of my life was over. He would never again lead the Unseelie, wreak havoc in my world, or hunt and hurt me. I didnt have to constantly watch over my shoulder for him anymore. The bastard whod turned me Pri-ya was beyond my vengeful grasp. Hed gotten his just deserts. Well he was dead, anyway. His just deserts would have been a whole lot worse if Id been in charge of doling them out.
Regardless, hed been my raison dtre for the longest time. And he was gone.
What did that leave me? Revengepoof!
Id always envisioned a final showdown between the two of us, and I would kill him.
Who was my villain now? Who would I hate and blame for Alinas death? It wasnt Darroc. Hed had a genuine weakness for her. He hadnt killed her and, if hed been somehow responsible for her death, he hadnt known it. Six months in Dublin, and I was no closer to uncovering my sisters murderer.
With Barrons alive and Darroc dead, there went my all-consuming focus on revenge.
My parents were safe and in Barrons care. There was no one I needed to save.
I had no urgent purpose, no express deadline. I felt lost. Directionless.
Sure, I had most of the same primary goals Id had before Id gone into the Silvers and everything had gone so terribly wrong, but grief had poured me into a tight box and those walls had shaped me. Now that the box was gone, I could feel myself collapsing into a shapeless blob.
What was next? Where to from here? I needed time to absorb the sudden changes in my reality and recalibrate my emotions. Confusing me even more, beneath the joy I felt that Barrons was alive, I was well, angry. Furious, actually. There was something seething inside me. And I didnt even know what. But deep down, underneath it all, I was working up a major temper and feeling stupid. Like Id leapt to conclusions that didnt hold water.
I got out of the shower, thoroughly disgruntled, and picked through my clothes, dissatisfied with them all.
Yesterday I would have known exactly what to wear. Today I had no idea. Pink or black? Maybe it was time for a new favorite color. Or maybe no favorite color at all.
Tomorrow was another day.
And he was going to be alive in it!
I stripped and crawled into bed.
I passed out while I was still pulling the covers up and slept like a woman whod hiked through hell without food or rest for months.
My dreams were so vivid, I felt like I was living them.
I dreamed I was watching Darroc die again, enraged that his death was being stolen from me so anticlimactically, my revenge snatched away, in the pinch of a Hunters talons. I dreamed I was back in the Silvers, searching for Christian but never finding him. I dreamed I was at the abbey, on the floor of the cell, and Rowena came in and slit my throat. I felt the lifeblood gurgle out of me, turning the dirt floor to mud. I dreamed I was in the Cold Place, chasing the beautiful woman that I couldnt catch up with, and then I dreamed Id actually done itdestroyed the world and replaced it with one I wanted. Afterward, I flew over my new world, astride the mighty, ancient KVruck. His great black wings whipped my hair into a tangle, and I laughed like a demon while the dissonant, haunting notes of Pink Martinis remix of Qu Sera Sera tinkled like a harpsichord from hell.
I slept for sixteen hours.
I needed every minute of it. The past three days were a surreal nightmare and had exhausted me.
The first thing I did when I woke up was pull Barrons note out from under my pillow and read it again to reassure myself he was alive.
Then I dashed down the stairs so fast I slid down the last five steps on my pajama-clad ass, desperate for confirmation that the bookstore was indeed still trashed.
It was. I did a celebratory dance in the debris.
Because it was afternoon and Barrons rarely came around until early evening, I went back upstairs and took a long, hot shower. I conditioned, exfoliated, and shaved.
I leaned back against the wall, stretched out my legs, and watched water splash over the spear strapped to my thigh, letting my mind go blank while I relaxed.
Unfortunately, my mind wouldnt stay blank and my body wouldnt relax. The muscles in my legs kept tensing, my neck and shoulders were tight, and my fingers tapped a fast staccato on the shower floor.
Something was bothering me. A lot. Beneath my happy surface, a dark storm was brewing.
How could anything be bothering me? My world was blue skies all the way, despite Dublins constant rain. How could I not be blissfully happy at this moment? It was a good day. Barrons was alive. Darroc was dead. I was no longer stuck in the Silvers, fighting myriad monsters and dodging illusions.
I frowned, realizing that was exactly the problem.
At this moment, there was nothing wrong, besides the usual fate of the world stuffId become mostly inured to.
I couldnt deal with that. Id been compressed, gripped in a painful vise. Id gotten used to it.
It was things being wrong that had given me shape and purpose and kept me going.
But in the past twenty-four hours, Id gone from being one hundred percent consumed by grief and rage to having every single reason for feeling those emotions stripped away.
Barrons was alive. Griefpoof!
The man Id believed had murdered my sister, the one Id been so committed to killing, was dead. The infamous Lord Master was gone.
That chapter of my life was over. He would never again lead the Unseelie, wreak havoc in my world, or hunt and hurt me. I didnt have to constantly watch over my shoulder for him anymore. The bastard whod turned me Pri-ya was beyond my vengeful grasp. Hed gotten his just deserts. Well he was dead, anyway. His just deserts would have been a whole lot worse if Id been in charge of doling them out.
Regardless, hed been my raison dtre for the longest time. And he was gone.
What did that leave me? Revengepoof!
Id always envisioned a final showdown between the two of us, and I would kill him.
Who was my villain now? Who would I hate and blame for Alinas death? It wasnt Darroc. Hed had a genuine weakness for her. He hadnt killed her and, if hed been somehow responsible for her death, he hadnt known it. Six months in Dublin, and I was no closer to uncovering my sisters murderer.
With Barrons alive and Darroc dead, there went my all-consuming focus on revenge.
My parents were safe and in Barrons care. There was no one I needed to save.
I had no urgent purpose, no express deadline. I felt lost. Directionless.
Sure, I had most of the same primary goals Id had before Id gone into the Silvers and everything had gone so terribly wrong, but grief had poured me into a tight box and those walls had shaped me. Now that the box was gone, I could feel myself collapsing into a shapeless blob.
What was next? Where to from here? I needed time to absorb the sudden changes in my reality and recalibrate my emotions. Confusing me even more, beneath the joy I felt that Barrons was alive, I was well, angry. Furious, actually. There was something seething inside me. And I didnt even know what. But deep down, underneath it all, I was working up a major temper and feeling stupid. Like Id leapt to conclusions that didnt hold water.
I got out of the shower, thoroughly disgruntled, and picked through my clothes, dissatisfied with them all.
Yesterday I would have known exactly what to wear. Today I had no idea. Pink or black? Maybe it was time for a new favorite color. Or maybe no favorite color at all.
