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Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 64 из 148I’d had so many bad experiences in the queen’s shiny black-walled room that seeing the sithen turn black like that room frightened me.
Mistral was the last one through the door. When he stepped through, the door vanished, leaving a smooth black wall, untouched and unyielding.
“The hallway where Mistral and Merry had sex is turning to white marble,” Frost said. “What caused this corridor to change to black?”
“I do not know,” Doyle said. He was looking up and down the black hallway. “It has changed too much. I do not know where we are in the sithen.”
“Look at this,” Frost said. He was staring up at the wall across from us.
Doyle moved to stand beside him, staring at what, to me, looked like blank wall. Doyle made a harsh, hissing sound. “Meredith, call the door back.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.” His voice was quiet, but it vibrated with urgency, as if he were forcing himself to whisper when what he wanted to do was scream.
I didn’t argue with that tone in his voice. I called out, “I would like a door back into the dead gardens.”
The door appeared again, all gold and pale wood, and carved vines. Doyle motioned Mistral to take the lead. Mistral reached for the golden handle, a naked sword in his other hand. What was happening? Why were they frightened? What had I missed?
Mistral went through with Abe behind him, me in the middle, and Rhys and Doyle following. Frost came last. But before I passed thorugh the doorway, Abe stopped, and Mistral’s voice came urgent from inside the dead gardens, “Back, go back!”
Doyle said, “We cannot stay here in the black hallway.” Rhys was pressed against my back, Abe pressed against my front. We were frozen between the two captains of the guards, each trying to get us moving in the opposite direction.
“We cannot have two captains, Mistral,” Frost said. “Without a single leader we are indecisive and endangered.”
“What is wrong?” I asked.
There was a sound from down the hallway — a heavy, slithering sound that froze my heart in my chest. I was afraid I recognized it. No, I had to be wrong. Then a second sound came: a high chittering sound — one that could be mistaken for birds, but wasn’t.
“Oh, Goddess,” I whispered.
“Forward, Mistral, now, or we are lost,” Doyle said.
“It is not our garden beyond the door,” Mistral said.
The high-pitched bird-like sounds were coming closer, outpacing the heavy slithering weight.
Mistral was the last one through the door. When he stepped through, the door vanished, leaving a smooth black wall, untouched and unyielding.
“The hallway where Mistral and Merry had sex is turning to white marble,” Frost said. “What caused this corridor to change to black?”
“I do not know,” Doyle said. He was looking up and down the black hallway. “It has changed too much. I do not know where we are in the sithen.”
“Look at this,” Frost said. He was staring up at the wall across from us.
Doyle moved to stand beside him, staring at what, to me, looked like blank wall. Doyle made a harsh, hissing sound. “Meredith, call the door back.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.” His voice was quiet, but it vibrated with urgency, as if he were forcing himself to whisper when what he wanted to do was scream.
I didn’t argue with that tone in his voice. I called out, “I would like a door back into the dead gardens.”
The door appeared again, all gold and pale wood, and carved vines. Doyle motioned Mistral to take the lead. Mistral reached for the golden handle, a naked sword in his other hand. What was happening? Why were they frightened? What had I missed?
Mistral went through with Abe behind him, me in the middle, and Rhys and Doyle following. Frost came last. But before I passed thorugh the doorway, Abe stopped, and Mistral’s voice came urgent from inside the dead gardens, “Back, go back!”
Doyle said, “We cannot stay here in the black hallway.” Rhys was pressed against my back, Abe pressed against my front. We were frozen between the two captains of the guards, each trying to get us moving in the opposite direction.
“We cannot have two captains, Mistral,” Frost said. “Without a single leader we are indecisive and endangered.”
“What is wrong?” I asked.
There was a sound from down the hallway — a heavy, slithering sound that froze my heart in my chest. I was afraid I recognized it. No, I had to be wrong. Then a second sound came: a high chittering sound — one that could be mistaken for birds, but wasn’t.
“Oh, Goddess,” I whispered.
“Forward, Mistral, now, or we are lost,” Doyle said.
“It is not our garden beyond the door,” Mistral said.
The high-pitched bird-like sounds were coming closer, outpacing the heavy slithering weight.