things right for Nicolae."
The cold force threw Samira against the far wall, and she crumpled to the floor.
"
You
will make things right for Nicolae of Moldavia.
You
will learn how fragile a thing is a human life, and how easily harmed.
You
will learn why it is that we of the Night World
serve
humanity, and do not play with them as toys.
"You will have thirty days, Samira, to discover that which sets the mortals above us, and makes them more precious than any creature of the Night. Thirty days to reverse the damage you have done to Nicolae of Moldavia."
"Isn't it their souls that make them special?" Samira asked.
The cold force picked her up and shook her, before tossing her again against the wall.
"Do not speak to me," Nyx said. "You know nothing of souls or humanity. You know nothing of why the mortals are precious, and why the gods of both the Night and the Day seek to serve and protect them.
"Thirty days, Samira. Tell me then why the humans are above us; tell me how you have used that knowledge to help Nicolae; and tell me then who else was involved in this dream you sent to Dragosh.
"If you fail, you
will
be destroyed."
Samira slowly pulled herself to her feet. "With your permission, I will begin at once, Your Majesty." She didn't have any idea how, or what she would do, but eager obedience seemed her only course.
"Not like that, you won't," Nyx said, a cruel twist to her lips. She flicked her fingers at Samira, shooting stars into her.
Samira screamed in pain, and then felt herself falling, falling, falling…
----
Chapter Eight
Lac Strigoi
Samira landed with a splash into cold water that sucked her breath away. She flailed, gasping for air, not knowing which way was up, or how to swim even if she did know up from down; and then her feet found purchase in the muddy bottom and she stood, hair dripping, hands clearing the water and weeds from her eyes.
Wet
. She was wet. Never in her three thousand years had she been wet. Mud gushed between her toes, and slimy water weeds brushed against her thighs. "Uuuuuugh!" she moaned, and threw herself toward the dim shadows of the lake's bank, clumsily lunging her way through the thick and slowly parting water.
Wet, mud
, and
slimy
had all been words she understood intellectually, but never had she understood them as the physical reality presently assaulting her body.
Cold
was proving to be even worse than that eerie force that had thrown her around Nyx's palace.
That
cold had nothing on
this
one—a horrific mix of wet water and bare skin.
She landed on the bank like a caught fish, flopping helplessly as she sought purchase on the slick mud. Her wings were doing nothing to lift her. In frustration, she gave them a strong flap.
No flap occurred.
An "eep" of surprise escaped her throat, and she froze where she was, on hands and knees in the muck. She tried to stretch out her wings, to check for damage.
Nothing stretched.
A flush of panic washed through her body, the cold/hot liquid feel of it a dozen times more intense than anything she had felt before. She reached over her shoulder with one hand, slapping at her bare skin, and with the other reached around her waist, trying to feel for her wings. Her reaching upset her balance, and she plopped belly first into the mud and rolled back down the bank into the water.
She lay in the shallows for a long, stunned moment, staring up at the night sky. The expanse stared back, blacker and more coldly distant than she had ever known it.
She was in a human body; a solid, weighty, vulnerable human body. Nyx had thrown her down to Earth as a mortal! A shudder ran through her, but before she could fully indulge in self-pitying horror, the shudder turned into a shiver. Her whole body trembled, and then her teeth started to chatter with the cold.
If she rolled a little deeper into the water, she could drown or freeze herself, and the ordeal would be over before it half began. The idea held a certain perverse appeal,
The cold force threw Samira against the far wall, and she crumpled to the floor.
"
You
will make things right for Nicolae of Moldavia.
You
will learn how fragile a thing is a human life, and how easily harmed.
You
will learn why it is that we of the Night World
serve
humanity, and do not play with them as toys.
"You will have thirty days, Samira, to discover that which sets the mortals above us, and makes them more precious than any creature of the Night. Thirty days to reverse the damage you have done to Nicolae of Moldavia."
"Isn't it their souls that make them special?" Samira asked.
The cold force picked her up and shook her, before tossing her again against the wall.
"Do not speak to me," Nyx said. "You know nothing of souls or humanity. You know nothing of why the mortals are precious, and why the gods of both the Night and the Day seek to serve and protect them.
"Thirty days, Samira. Tell me then why the humans are above us; tell me how you have used that knowledge to help Nicolae; and tell me then who else was involved in this dream you sent to Dragosh.
"If you fail, you
will
be destroyed."
Samira slowly pulled herself to her feet. "With your permission, I will begin at once, Your Majesty." She didn't have any idea how, or what she would do, but eager obedience seemed her only course.
"Not like that, you won't," Nyx said, a cruel twist to her lips. She flicked her fingers at Samira, shooting stars into her.
Samira screamed in pain, and then felt herself falling, falling, falling…
----
Chapter Eight
Lac Strigoi
Samira landed with a splash into cold water that sucked her breath away. She flailed, gasping for air, not knowing which way was up, or how to swim even if she did know up from down; and then her feet found purchase in the muddy bottom and she stood, hair dripping, hands clearing the water and weeds from her eyes.
Wet
. She was wet. Never in her three thousand years had she been wet. Mud gushed between her toes, and slimy water weeds brushed against her thighs. "Uuuuuugh!" she moaned, and threw herself toward the dim shadows of the lake's bank, clumsily lunging her way through the thick and slowly parting water.
Wet, mud
, and
slimy
had all been words she understood intellectually, but never had she understood them as the physical reality presently assaulting her body.
Cold
was proving to be even worse than that eerie force that had thrown her around Nyx's palace.
That
cold had nothing on
this
one—a horrific mix of wet water and bare skin.
She landed on the bank like a caught fish, flopping helplessly as she sought purchase on the slick mud. Her wings were doing nothing to lift her. In frustration, she gave them a strong flap.
No flap occurred.
An "eep" of surprise escaped her throat, and she froze where she was, on hands and knees in the muck. She tried to stretch out her wings, to check for damage.
Nothing stretched.
A flush of panic washed through her body, the cold/hot liquid feel of it a dozen times more intense than anything she had felt before. She reached over her shoulder with one hand, slapping at her bare skin, and with the other reached around her waist, trying to feel for her wings. Her reaching upset her balance, and she plopped belly first into the mud and rolled back down the bank into the water.
She lay in the shallows for a long, stunned moment, staring up at the night sky. The expanse stared back, blacker and more coldly distant than she had ever known it.
She was in a human body; a solid, weighty, vulnerable human body. Nyx had thrown her down to Earth as a mortal! A shudder ran through her, but before she could fully indulge in self-pitying horror, the shudder turned into a shiver. Her whole body trembled, and then her teeth started to chatter with the cold.
If she rolled a little deeper into the water, she could drown or freeze herself, and the ordeal would be over before it half began. The idea held a certain perverse appeal,
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