Keys and Curses (Shadow Book 2) by Nina Smith Page A

high volume with dauntless abandon. “By foul treachery!”
    She gave him a look. “You’re not helping.”
    Nikifor cringed inwardly and wished for the ten thousandth time he could just disappear, or at the very least control what he said out loud. “What I meant to say,” he said in a more subdued tone, “is that if thousands of muses are missing, and we are now wanted by the Guild, then the whole thing stinks of a treacherous plot against us.”
    Flower kicked aside a rock lying in her path. “It seems like that, but who would dare? And who would have anything against us? The muses have done nothing but work for the good of Shadow!”
    Nikifor walked with his head down, a half-step behind her. She’d been snappish all morning. The pace she’d set on leaving the cave had already brought them out of the forest and into rolling, deserted farm country. The white gravel road they followed wound first toward paddocks drowning in dense green beanstalks, and then back toward the brooding edge of Quicksilver forest, never seeming to make up its mind where it was going. Three ravens clung to the treetops, carrying on a sardonic cawing commentary on their progress. It had rained overnight, leaving everything wet, but the sunshine today was warm and the air heavy with early spring pollen. Far in the distance, he could just see the shadow of the Great Western Peak of Impossible Doom. Somewhere in the other direction, the ocean hissed and crashed over his key. “It seems the Guild bears us some grudge,” he finally replied.
    Flower snorted. “The Guild is no longer taking direction from the king, that much is obvious. And if that’s the case, then any power they have is invalid. I’ve a good mind to go straight back to Shadow City and shut the whole thing down.”
    “You’ll disappear.”
    She gave him a sharp look. “You seem remarkably lucid today.”
    She was right. Nikifor felt clear and rested. His body no longer craved the madness, even if the urge still lay brooding deep down in places he didn’t like to go. “I think it was the Bloody Fairies,” he said, thinking about the young fairy girl who haunted his visions, the way the silver axe had kept him company in his dreams, the Tormentor hovering behind Ishtar and marking her. 
    “Don’t worry, they’d drive anybody mad.”
    “I’m not crazy!” The words burst from him so loudly the ravens paused in their screeching. Echoes bounced from the trees and came back to taunt him with his curse and Flower’s careless cruelty together.
    Flower stopped walking and turned to face him with a look of concern. “Nikifor-”
    “I swear to you I’m not,” he whispered, to try and make up for the shouting. She had to understand, and she wouldn’t listen if he kept losing control like that. “Somebody–something–follows me. He was strong in the presence of the Bloody Fairies. He marked them. He marked Ishtar Ishtar with blood. You must believe me, he’s real, he’s dangerous!”
    “Nikifor.” Flower cupped his face in her hands. “Of course you’re not crazy, but you must learn to distinguish between reality and fantasy. These are just hallucinations brought on by the vibe.”
    “But the vibe is out of my system!” His voice broke on an anguished note, because he could see from the pity in her eyes she didn’t believe him. “The Freakin Fairies did cure me, Flower, they saved my life. And if the man I see is a hallucination, how does he mark me?” He moved her hand to the bruise on his temple where the Tormentor had hit him on the first night with the Freakin Fairies.
    Flower touched the faded bruise with gentle fingers. A frown marred her brow. “I thought the Freakin Fairies gave you this.”
    “How would they reach?” Nikifor looked Flower full in the eyes for the first time in years and willed her to listen.
    Her eyes were brown, serious, full of doubt. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
    She’d never listen. He knew that. He said it