Troy
I burst through the door, not caring that several unfamiliar people were crowded at the entrance of the stuffy, windowless room in Alpha Una’s palace. The door slamd into at least three of those people, who scowled and murmured words of disdain as I pushed through the crowd, shoving carelessly at the bodies who refused to make way.
Maeve was seated on a bench against the wall, beads of sweat rolling down her temples as she cradled her arms against her stomach.
“What’s wrong with her? Why are all of these people here?” I said hastily, nearly knocking a man who was refusing to move out of my way to the ground as I fell to my knees in front of Maeve, taking one of her hands in my own. “Hey,” I said softly, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Her skin was hot to the touch. Feverish.
“Get away from her!” Soone grabbed by the shoulder, attempting to pull backwards. I turned, rising just enough to sock the man in the jaw with an audible crack. He swung blindly, missing Maeve’s head by re inches as his fist grazed the stone wall behind her. I got to my feet in an instant, punching him in the stomach, then chest, dodging his blows as I leapt up, wrapping my arm around his neck, dragging him down onto his knees.
People were screaming, the crowd trying to funnel through the door I had left splintered and hanging off its hinges.
“Let him go, Troy!” Una was at my side, a small, ancient woman standing behind her. I relaxed the muscles in my arm but didn’t release the man, who was struggling to free himself, his fingernails digging into my forearm.
Una watched , seeing the fury burning behind my eyes. It was the middle of the night. I had been woken up by Myla, who had been pounding at the door to the White Queen’s suite as though the entire city were bursting into flas. She tried to explain what happened between sobs, her legs bloodied, and feet bare on the stone floor as she shook with emotion.
But I didn’t understand. Not a bit.
And now, Maeve was sitting like she was in a trance, her eyes wide and her body rocking back and forth on the bench, shaking with fever.
The man I had in a chokehold finally relaxed, his body going limp. I let him drop to the ground, his eyes fluttering as he groaned, rolling over onto his side.
“What the f*ck did you do to her?” I hissed, stepping over the man and squaring up to Una, who stood her ground.
“I didn’t do anything to her—”
It was so incredibly loud in the room. I looked around at the shocked, unfamiliar faces. They were watching , talking loudly to their companions so as to be heard in the crowd.
“GET OUT!” I said, my voice raised in a deep, wall-shaking shout.
Una turned to the crowd, her eyes giving the onlookers a silent command, and they began to back up, tripping over each other as they filed out of the room.
“Word spread, they ca—” She began, turning back to .
“Word about what?” I was seething. Myla touched on the arm, seeming to appear out of thin air. She knelt next to Maeve, reaching up to touch her cheek while she cooed soft, inaudible words of encouragent. “You know what, I don’t care. We’re leaving. Right now—”
“Scouts were sent to the beach yesterday, my son. They brought the supplies needed to nd your ship. Your captain will know you are safe—”
“Safe? Look at her, Una! What in Goddess’s na did you do to her during—”
“There is much to explain,” Una said hastily, reaching back to usher the tiny old woman forward. The woman looked up at , unseeing, her eyes cloudy with cataracts.
“Don’t touch her—” I ground out, putting myself between Maeve and the old woman.
“Troy,” Una breathed, stepping forward and gripping my arm, “Listen to —”
“You tell everything, from the beginning,” I bit out. I could hear Myla crying, the sound muffled to a nearly silent sniffling behind my back. Whatever had happened had scared Myla to death and left Maeve in a stupor.
I barely noticed the other people left in the room until Robbie shifted his weight, handing sothing to Pete, who was now rolling sothing small in the palm of his hand. Tasia was standing next to the bench, her hand on Maeve’s shoulder, her eyes closed and moving as though she were dreaming.
“I will. As soon as Maeve is well.” Una looked at , desperation flashing behind her eyes. I held her gaze as the old woman side-stepped around , her hand outstretched as she felt her way towards Maeve, then sat beside her, reaching into a small purse hanging around her waist and pulling out a muslin packet of strong-slling herbs.
“Wolfsbane?” Myla asked, looking from the old woman to , her eyes watery with tears. “It’ll kill her!”
“No, it won’t,” Una said sternly, squeezing my arm to draw my attention back to her.
“Who are you people?” I asked, rembering the Wolfsbane laced smoke that had forced Robbie and I to shift back to our human forms against our will.
“You’re familiar with the legend of Lycaon, I hope? I hear it is told to children as a bedti story in so packs.”
I stared at her, the map of Lycaon’s tomb hurtling into view behind my eyes before disappearing again, washed away as though by the storm in which I had lost it.
“You no longer have the map, do you?” She continued, looking up at expectantly.
“Are you reading my mind?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. She shook her head, a sober smile touching her lips.
“It’s all been prophesized, Troy. I just thought we had more ti.”
“More ti for what? What did I see in the circle when Maeve...when she...” Myla broke down, her chin tucking into her chest as a fresh round of sobs shook her shoulders. I shook off Una’s grip and reached for Myla, clutching her to my chest as the old woman began to hum behind us.
“Who are you?” I asked, more firmly. Una swallowed, nodding her head as if she were gathering her thoughts.
“Better to tell them the truth of it, dear,” the old woman said in a gravelly voice. I looked over my shoulder at Maeve, who was leaning back against the wall, so color returning to her cheeks.
Una cleared her throat, looking past to where Robbie and Pete were standing.
“Lycaon was the son of Leto, the woman who eventually beca the Moon Goddess. We are...descendants of him, like Maeve’s line descends from Morrighan, Leto’s daughter.” Una’s eyes were shining as she looked back at , “He ca here after she broke the stone.”
“What stone?” I said abruptly, interrupting her. It’s a gem, ca Maeve’s voice in my mind, the mory of her sitting on the edge of the bed in the Persephone flitting across my consciousness.
“The moonstone. The stone she used to make her mate and children immortal. The sa stone she used to curse them as wolves.” Una turned and paced; her hands tucked behind her back as she walked. “Lycaon stole one half of the stone from his sister. Morrighan cursed him for it, banishing him from the original pack lands. He had no choice but to run.”
“The original pack lands?” Myla asked, turning out of my embrace to look at Una, who nodded.
“The North. The cradle of our kind. Winter Forest, the ho of the White Queens.”
Myla looked up at , her brow knitted in a confused, uncomfortable expression. She looked as though she were trying to mind-link with . Trying in vain.
“Lycaon had followers. He had a family of his own. They attempted to cross the great mountains that separated the North from what we now call Valoria, but the mountains swallowed his people whole. They were struggling to cross. Morrighan was coming for him, coming for the stone he had stolen, so he left his people behind, taking only a few of his followers with him as he continued his flight. One of those followers was a woman nad Diana.” It was Tasia who spoke. I had almost forgotten she was in the room with us. She stepped forward, standing between her mother and I, her strange gray eyes fixed on mine. “Diana was the mother of our tribe, Troy. She gave birth to four daughters on the land in which we stand, and those daughters started our pack, their children carving this kingdom out of stone.”
“What does this have to do with Maeve?” I hissed, growing impatient. I looked down at Myla, taking her by the shoulder to face , “What happened last night?”
Myla swallowed, opening her mouth to speak.
“My mother. Sothing is going to happen to her.” Maeve’s voice cut through the air, and we all turned to her. Her eyes were barely open, her mouth slightly ajar as she took a breath.
“I saw two wolves, two white wolves. I could feel...I sensed one was Maeve. She was...” Myla stuttered.
“I was becoming the White Queen.”
“Before her ti. Rosalie is supposed to maintain her powers until her death. A death that shouldn’t be coming so soon.” Una cut in; her face suddenly serious. She inhaled deeply, glancing at Tasia. Tasia bit the inside of her cheek, then relaxed, her eyes fixating on mine and drawing out the question lingering on the tip of my tongue.
“Leto passed down so of her abilities to her children. Morrighan in turn passed down the powers the White Queens still possess; the power of healing, the power of comfort in their voices and movent. Feminine abilities, one might say. But Morrighan could do one other thing...sothing that White Queens can only do once. She could call upon her mother, draw her divine power in full. Only a few White Queens have ever done it. They always et their ends afterwards.”
I had heard the story of Rosalie and her great, unfathomable power. But our generation, the ones born after the war’s end, saw it as a myth, a legend. Sothing told with great vigor around a camp fire.
But the knowing look in Tasia’s eyes told otherwise. “And us? Those born of the coward, Lycaon? We inherited his curse.”
“I don’t understand—” I said.
“We are bound to this place, tethered to the ground. You cannot mind-link within the sanctuary of our walls. You cannot shift. The Moon Goddess keeps us contained, shackled, within the red stone of this valley. Her only gift to us is rare; only a few of us can use it.” Tasia moved along the wall, the fingers brushing against the stone as she walked. “There’s a world outside of our own. A world most people only see within their dreams. But for so, it is very real. I can go there—” She spun around to look at us, and the air seed to shift and move around our feet. My shirt fluttered in what should have been a still, windless room. “I can see the world as if it’s upside down, and I’m looking into it.”
“You’re talking in riddles!” Myla exclaid; her voice choked with emotion.
“The prophecy has been in place since ti eternal. Since before Leto even pulled the moonstone from the ground—” Una said quietly.
“The stones will co together again. Twenty-one White Queens will be born and co into their powers. But—” Tasia turned, looking past and settling her gaze on Maeve. “We don’t know what will happen when the twenty-first White Queen combines the stones. And Maeve is the twentieth. The prophecy is going to co to fruition before its ti.”
“What do you an?” I asked.
“There is one more generation. The children she carries will be sons. Maeve is not ant to combine the stones, but now the continuation of the White Queens depends on it. If Rosalie dies before Maeve cos into her powers, before she produces the next White Queen--” Una’s voice was low, steady. I felt a chill down the length of my spine. Did she just say...
“Stop!” I bellowed; my heart ready to burst out of my chest. “What happened to Maeve? I don’t care about the rest!”
“Maeve invoked the Moon Goddess in the circle. We don’t know how. We don’t know why. The only reason she’s not dead is that ring.” Tasia crossed her arms over her chest.
“What ring?” I turned, following Tasia’s gaze to Pete, was imdiately flushed as he unfurled his hand and revealed a large golden ring with a red stone at its center. I had never seen it before. Maeve had left the castle with only the clothes on her back. “Where did she get that?” I asked, turning back to Tasia.
“A Dream Dancer. Soone who can manipulate water—”
“What?” I was beginning to feel dizzy.
“Soone who has the ability to manipulate and travel through water while in the spirit realm,” Tasia turned to her mother, who exhaled and nodded, giving her permission to continue. Tasia stepped away from the wall and closed her eyes, her hair rising up on her shoulders as the air around us rushed towards her, our clothes billowing in the breeze she created.
“Holy hell,” Robbie said behind , his voice carried away in the air.
Tasia opened her eyes, blinking a few tis as the air began to still. “This dancer is a novice, Mother. I can’t feel them.”
Una nodded, looking sowhat withdrawn. The old woman was seated beside Maeve, her gnarled hand resting over Maeve’s. “The girl needs to rest.”
“Yes, you’re right.” Una looked at Robbie and Pete, an unspoken command passing between them as the two n suddenly stepped forward, stepping around to help Maeve to her feet.
“I’m going—” I began, but Una cut off.
“There is much left to discuss, Troy. You are part of the narrative now. Stay behind, Myla will tend to her while we talk.”
Myla imdiately moved away from , giving a look that told , without a doubt, that we needed to leave this place. But sothing was stopping from agreeing.
A prophecy? Moonstones? And what in the hell was a dream dancer? I needed to know more.
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