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Into the heart of the gardens. Mikki didn’t allow her mind to wander. She hurried up the stairs, barely glancing

at the steaming baths, not wanting to remember how wonderful it had been to soak there in the company of

her handmaidens and how much she had been looking forward to doing so again. Her balcony was empty, as

was her room, but she could see a welcoming fire burning in the hearth and a candelabrum tree still lit beside

her bed. She bit her lip and turned away from the homey sight.

Mikki descended her stairs and stepped into the garden proper. She chose the path that would lead her most

directly to the center of the realm and the temple and fountain that awaited her there. She was careful to keep

her thoughts on the roses and away from the Elementals or Asterius. She didn’t want them to misunderstand

and think she was calling them. What she needed to do she could only do alone. And it was easy to keep her

thoughts on the roses. They seemed to be consuming her.

Sick . . . God, she felt sick. The closer she got to the center of the realm, the worse she felt. Two or three

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times she stopped and inspected beds of roses that just hours before had been already responding to the care

and feeding she and the women had given them. Now they were black with the Dream Stealer blight and

smelled of death.

Her instincts had been right, but it was even worse than she’d imagined. The blight had spread at an

impossible rate. No mortal sickness couldrs,±Ђ† have decimated a garden like this. But the blight wasn’t

mortal. It was the manifestation of evil, and intuition told her there was only one way to combat it.

Hecate’s Temple was like a torch-lit dream, and the sound of the huge fountain’s flowing water was the

accompanying magickal soundtrack. But Mikki didn’t pause there. She kept walking until the lights

illuminating the rose wall blazed before her. It was easy to find the bushes her blood had touched. They were

the only color in the midst of darkness, death, and disease.

I was right. I wish I hadn’t been, but I was right.

Mikki retraced her path back to the temple, pausing only long enough to find the newly sharpened shears

she’d hidden at the base of a rosebush. She climbed the steps to the temple and stood before the spirit flame.

“Hecate,” she said softly, looking into the yellow-orange flame. “I know you’re far from your realm, but I’m

hoping you’re still attached enough to it . . . to me . . . that you will somehow be able to hear me. I need to

talk to you before I finish this. I want you to know how much I have loved being here. For the first time in my

life, I know I’m where I belong. The four Elementals are good girls, especially Gii. If you could, please tell

them that I appreciate everything they’ve done for me.”

She drew a deep breath and wiped silent tears from her cheeks.

“I love Asterius. You probably don’t like that, but you did tell me to follow my instincts, and everything

inside of me led me to him. He’s not a beast, you know. And he needs what we all need—acceptance and

someone to love.” Mikki had to stop and press her hand against her mouth to stifle a sob. When she had her

emotions under control, she continued. “He’s why I’m doing this—him and the girls and the Dream Weavers.

I finally know the real reason I’m here, and it is for the roses. I can save them. I don’t really have any choice.

I’ve seen what waits in the forest, and I can’t let those creatures destroy everything I love.”

Mikki stared into the fire, wishing she was more articulate, wishing she had more time to learn the special

words to prayers and rituals so she could do this right.

“When I pledged myself to you, I did so with two words, ‘love’ and ‘trust.’ And it’s those two words that

bring me full circle here. What I do next I do willingly because I want to preserve the love I’ve found within

this realm, and I believe I’m doing the right thing, because through that love I’ve learned to trust myself—to

believe in my own instincts, intuition and judgment. So if you can, Hecate, I ask that you be with me for what

comes next. So mote it be,” Mikki whispered.

Resolutely, she left the temple and approached the fountain whose water fed the realm. The graceful fountain

was really very beautiful. It had been formed by a series of huge marble dishes that eventually ran from a

pool-size basin to a series of troughs that spoked off into the gardens. Mikki dipped her hand in the water and

was surprised at its soothing warmth. An odd coincidence, she thought as she took off her chiton and folded it

neatly on the ground beside her. No. There are few coincidences here. I’ll just consider it a parting gift from

the goddess. Naked, with nothing except the shears in her hand, Mikki stepped into the fountain.

The water welcomed her and she sat, settling comfortably on the bottom of the basin, which was deep enough

that she was covered almost to her shoulders with clear, warm liquid. Get it over with. Do it quickly. It’s only

going to hurt for a second.

Mikki lifted her left wrist. She opened the shears and pressed the blade against her skin. She shut her eyes and

sliced—quickly—sucking in her breath at the sudden pain. Then, she changed hands. This time it was more

awkward but no less effective. Mikki dropped the shears over the side of the fountain. She winced as she

submerged her wrists, but she had been right. The pain wasn’t bad, and it didn’t last long. Mikki rested her

head back against the lip of the basin. Gazing up at the sky, she thought how right it felt that the moon had set

and the sun had not yet risen. Hecate . . . Goddess of the Ebony Moon . . . perhaps the absence of light in the

sky was a sign that the goddess approved of her sacrifice. She had done the right thing. The roses would live.

The dreams of mankind would be safe, as would her love. Mikki closed her eyes. She was so sleepy, and the

water was so comfortable . . . soft . . . like a big feather bed . . . a warm raft on a summer lake . . . her

mother’s arms when she was a small, frightened girl who’d had a bad dream. She sighed. There shouldn’t be

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any bad dreams . . . there should only be love and beauty and roses.

She wasn’t afraid. But she would miss Asterius. As her mind blackened softly, Mikki’s final thought was of

how much she loved him.

ASTERIUS woke up suddenly. Something was wrong. He shook off sleep as he always had—instantly—and

sat up, already reaching for his clothes. Then, thinking he should wake Mikado, he turned and . . .

She wasn’t there. At first that didn’t trouble him. She could be in the bathing chamber. He pulled on his tunic

and strode through the tunnel. She wasn’t there, either. Foreboding had him lengthening his stride as he made

his way back to the bedchamber and the room beyond. Still, she wasn’t there. He buckled his cuirasse as he

left his lair. The sun had risen, but it was still early morning. An unusually warm breeze was coming from the

gardens, bringing with it—

Asterius stopped, testing the wind. Yes, he’d been right. The wind brought with it the rich and heady scent of

blooming roses. He picked up his pace, and soon he burst into the gardens.

They were abloom. Clouds of color filled the beds, like the goddess had taken a divine brush to the realm and

painted in life and health. But instead of feeling relief and happiness, worry broke over Asterius, and he ran,

letting his instinct guide him.

Hecate’s Temple was in sight when he heard the first cry of lamentation. The sound of it was an icy fist

closing around his heart. Then another cry met the first, and another and another, until the gardens echoed

with mourning.

His mind was screaming No! even though he knew what he would discover. Asterius thundered up to the

temple. The four Elementals were standing beside the fountain, clinging to one another and weeping openly.

Between them he caught sight of wet copper hair and the side of her colorless face. Slowly, as if he was

moving through a bog of sinking sand and mud, Asterius approached the fountain. She was there, of course.

Mikado was dead.

Asterius, Guardian of the Realm of the Rose, fell to his knees and roared his grief over and over and over.

One by one, the Elementals, led by Gii, moved to him and placed their hands on his shoulders, until the five

of them, connected by their grief, mourned their Empousa.

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Part Three

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

GOD, her mouth was dry. And she felt like shit. Mikki tried to roll over, but she was too weak. All she did

was twitch and make a muffled moan.

“Oh, fuck! Call 911—she’s alive!”

Huh? Call 911? There weren’t any phones in the Realm of the Rose. Nor did anyone besides her say “fuck.”

So what the fuck? She tried to move again, and this time she felt the strong hands that held her in place.

“Don’t try to move, ma’am! It’s going to be okay. I’ve called for help.” Then he yelled, “Over here! Bring

the EMTs over here!”

Mikki could hear the hurried tread of heavy feet, accompanied by a vaguely familiar voice.

“Oh, Christ! It’s Mikki. Ah, shit, look at all that blood!”

Mikki’s breath was coming in panting gulps. She placed the voice. It was Mel, the security guard at the Tulsa

Rose Gardens. But it couldn’t be Mel—she couldn’t be at the rose gardens. She was . . .

Oh. She’d forgotten. She was dead.

“Mikki, hang on. The EMTs are here. You’re going to make it.”

She tried to say that she didn’t want to make it. That her intention had been to save the roses, and the only

way she could do that was to give them her blood. Unfortunately, it was a damn big realm, and a few drops in

a bucket weren’t going to do it.

But she couldn’t speak. Her mind was working, but her body felt heavy and not her own. And she was wet,

which made sense, because she was supposed to be in the fountain.

“Okay, on three roll her over.”

They rolled her from her stomach to her back. Mikki blinked, trying to clear her blurred vision. It was

morning. From what she could see of the sky over the EMTs’ shoulders, the sun hadn’t risen long ago. Then

her gaze shifted to a blob to her right. She managed to let her head flop to the side to bring it more fully into

her view. It was a massive stone pedestal, and it was even more familiar than her old friend the security

guard. It was the base that had supported the great Guardian statue. Only now it was empty.

Mikki screamed soundlessly inside her head. Then everything went blissfully black.

“You look better today, Mikki. How are you feeling?”

“Is that a prot t° Ё nly fessional question? A test? Or are you showing genuine concern?” she said

sarcastically.

Nelly flinched. “I don’t deserve that, Mikki, and you know it.”

Mikki chewed her lips and reached out to quickly squeeze her friend’s hand. It was dead wrong for her to

take out her shitty mood on her girlfriend. It wasn’t Nelly’s fault that nothing she could do or say would ever

come close to making it “better” for her.

“Sorry. I’m just in a wicked bad mood today.”

“Did something happen? Have the dreams returned?”

Mikki couldn’t meet Nelly’s eyes. She didn’t want her friend to see the desperation she carried around with

her every day.

“No. My dreams have been completely normal, which is to say I don’t remember them. Everything else has

been normal, too. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong. I guess it’s just the weather that’s gotten to me. I’m

tired of the rain and the cold.” She tried not to remember that once she’d commanded the rain to appear

every fourth day, and that the first day rain had obeyed her it set up the circumstances that had brought her

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