Daughters of Creation

Chapter Ten: Dormiveglia (Part One)

"The space that stretches between sleeping and waking"
—Dormiveglia

October 14

   Sigils of the Originals plus the one for the divine lay scattered over the dining table. The fae—Rowan—had sketched the sigils from memory; having seen each victim. Dana had found Dae's hand once again as the group sat huddled around the sketches. It was cramped, but they didn't have much choice. The apartment was probably the safest place to not be overheard or worry about the Council or other Guards. Dana knew they had spells and wards placed over the apartment that even the Coven didn't all those years ago.

"What's the point of telling a story through the sigils? There's such a huge risk of no one understanding what it's even supposed to mean!" Emerson groaned out, plopping one cheek into a cupped hand.

"At least we know partly why All Hallows Eve is so important to him." Vela pointed out. Dana knew she was trying to make things appear brighter, but it was a dim outlook.

"But it doesn't make our situation any less dangerous." Rena remarked bitterly. The anger in her eyes had yet to fade since the mention of her younger sister.

Dana wanted to shake Emerson, shout in the girl's face that Rena still loved her, shove her toward the ticking Guardwho obviously needed a comforting hand, but she held herself back, her nails digging into her palms as she leaned heavily against Dae. She would not get between those two — that was a whole other mess. She wondered how Eytelis fared with Dae away? (She and Dae had never truly explained to Dana how Dryads and their Sentries worked—mostly because there weren't many in existence since it took truly gruesome deaths for Sentries to be born).

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Rosalyn ran a hand roughly through her curls. Hari had yet to let her go, but Rosalyn hadn't made a move to leave his side either. The large Guard's dark eyes were dangerous, the pupils of his eyes slits, like those of a dragon, as he kept his anger in check. It seemed dredging up the past was not good for anyone. "In all honestly I feel like we're still sitting at square one. The sigils are telling the Originals' story, we've got that established, but their story has been told since we were children—long before we were children, even—so what good is telling their story?"

"Are we missing something in the story?" Emrie Michele caught Ezra's dagger mid toss, shooting the brooding vampire a quick glare. "Maybe we're missing something?"

"Impossible to say since the original records have either been stolen or kept under lock and key by the Council and the Guards of the Veil." Andre said, lifting one shoulder. His hazel eyes seemed to be duller than normal, as if his worries were eating him from the inside.

Dana wondered if it had anything to do with Vela? She had yet to answer Andre on whether or not she would go through with the Claiming Ritual ... could not being Claimed be a bigger problem than Andre let on? Dana stared at the tan werewolf. If she stared long enough would she be able to see what went on in that head of his? In this moment she wished she had Millicent's ability to read minds.

"No you wouldn't." A soft voice said wearily. More brown than green eyes looked up into hers. Dana felt a chill run down her spine. The haunted look in Millicent's eyes told her enough. Millicent looked away, finding Rowan's golden gaze. A look passed between them.

Dana should think about shaking herself—not Emerson. How tactless could she be? Apparently very tactless because Rowan was giving her a heavily disappointed look when Millicent switched her attention back to the group. The fae's gaze was hypnotizing—she felt as if Rowan was able to peer into her soul and see her entire soul, the same way Millicent made her feel. Dana shivered.