by Maya Banks
How she could look at him with such joy and love and yet with such deep sadness was a puzzle he intended to decipher. One thing he knew for certain was that he wasn’t going to let her go. Not after spending his entire life searching for someone who understood him and his passions.
He glanced back to see India and Robby in conversation. There was such pain in both of their eyes that it made him want to pound something in frustration. What kind of man was he if he could do nothing to ease the burdens of the people he loved?
As soon as this was done with, the city, her father, he was going to resolve things with India. He could not picture his life without her. Every time he gave thought to his future, she was beside him. He could see their children. Boys with her intelligence. Little girls with her courage. Ahh but she would be a good mother. She had already taken to mothering Robby despite there not being much disparity in their ages.
“You looked troubled, Senor,” Juan Miguel spoke up.
Ridge glanced over at the Spaniard. “I have a lot to contemplate.”
Juan Miguel nodded his head. They rode a few more feet and Juan Miguel turned back to Ridge. “Tell me, why do you seek the city?”
Such a question caught him off guard. And it was one that could not be answered with a single reason.
“I feel a kinship with Pagoria,” he finally admitted. “I can’t explain why, but it has called to me since I was but a boy.”
Juan Miguel nodded approvingly. “Many would answer that there is legend of untold wealth among the ruins.”
Ridge looked sharply at him. “But you and India have maintained the city lives.”
Juan Miguel chuckled. “You are a quick one. I merely repeat what is rumored. And I have maintained nothing but that I safeguard the city against those who would do her harm.”
“And there are others like you,” Ridge said.
“Si. Such a task is not well suited to one man. It is an honor bestowed on my family for centuries.”
Ridge looked at him in awe. Centuries. A legacy handed down from generation to generation. What an awesome responsibility, and what room for treachery.
“Once you see the city, you will realize why it is impossible that any of my brethren could betray their duty,” Juan Miguel said as if he had plucked Ridge’s thoughts straight from his mind.
“You seem rather confident that we will reach Pagoria.”
Juan Miguel smiled. “It is as if you have trodden this path before, no?”
Ridge froze. How could the Spaniard know of Ridge’s memories, the images that haunted him, the uncanny sensation that he had traveled this way before?
Juan Miguel nodded his head forward. “There is the village just ahead. We will stop and rest before you continue your journey.”
Ridge followed Juan Miguel’s gaze and saw the outline of cottages, a church and several small buildings nestled in the sloping hills leading to the base of Mount Orion.
Juan Miguel’s words, of the village providing protection over Pagoria seemed amusing. Indeed, it looked more like Mount Orion loomed protectively over the village, guarding her inhabitants like a loving mum.
His eyes skirted over the terrain, beyond the village and to the mountain. Where could Pagoria lie? The country looked forbidding. Inhospitable. The village provided the last civilized layer to the rugged mountains that scraped the skyline.
His chest pounded a bit more at the thought of what lay ahead. An eternal city who despite insurmountable odds had stayed hidden from mankind for an indeterminate amount of time. Perhaps for all of time itself.
It stretched the parameters of his mind.
As they drew closer, India rode up beside him, her face a myriad of conflicting emotions. Their arrival sparked interest among the villagers as several came out of their cottages to stare at the group of travelers.
They rode farther into the center of the tiny town, and more of the inhabitants filtered out, their expressions wary. The women were similarly adorned as their English counterparts, but the men all wore dark green tunics and black trousers.
But more noteworthy were the identical tattoos found on each of their arms. Just like the one Juan Miguel sported and the man who had approached them in England.
He glanced over at India who had also viewed the tattoos, and his surprise was mirrored on her face.
“This is your home,” India said softly.
“Si,” Juan Miguel replied.
“How long have your people been guardians?” she asked.
Ridge looked expectantly at Juan Miguel, but the Spaniard merely smiled.
“How long we have is not as important as how long we will.”
They rode up to a modest, whitewashed cottage and Juan Miguel dismounted.
“Come, have dinner in my home and we will pray for your safe journey to the city.”
Ridge looked at India who shrugged and slid from her horse. He climbed down and allowed a young boy who scampered up to take his mount. Robby shuffled forward, his features strained. Ridge’s heart sank. The journey had been too much for his brother.
A smiling young woman met them at the door, and Juan Miguel bent to kiss her. He turned back to Ridge, India and Robby.
“This is my wife, Rosario.”
“Welcome to our home,” Rosario said, her dark eyes flashing with warmth.
“Papa! Papa!”
Shrieks of joy resonated throughout the house as two small children ran head long into Juan Miguel’s legs.
“Ahh my little ones, it is good to be home. Have you been good for your mother?” Juan Miguel said as he stooped to gather the two boys into his arms.
“Si, Papa!” they chorused, their heads bobbing up and down.
“Come, sit down,” Rosario urged as she motioned them farther into the house. “You must be parched from your travels.”
They walked into the clean, sparsely furnished house and sat down at a long wooden table situated in the kitchen. Rosario set mugs of water in front of them, and Ridge drank thirstily.
“My thanks, madam,” Ridge said.
“It is you who has my thanks for returning the key,” Rosario said softly. “We have waited many years for this moment.”
“I don’t understand the significance,” India spoke up.
Rosario darted a glance at her husband then pressed her lips together. “I should have said nothing. All will be clear once you reach the city.”
“Let us eat so they can depart while the sun is still high,” Juan Miguel said. “Then we shall pray as a village that their journey is safe and successful.”
Ridge looked over at India and reached a hand to grip hers. He could feel her tremble, or was it him? The moment was at hand. The moment when the truths about Pagoria would be revealed. And maybe he would learn why even this village was as familiar as the path they had taken.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Follow the trail that leads from the north side of the village,” Juan Miguel said. He stood to the side as Ridge, India and Robby mount their horses. “When you reach the gap in the rock, you must travel the rest of the way on foot.”
The rest of the way where? India’s head began to ache, and she rubbed her temples. She knew the city was not easily accessible, otherwise it would have been discovered long ago. Juan Miguel seemed eager for her to be successful, yet he wouldn’t do anything to ensure she was. Like escort them.
The entire situation was infuriating. All she wanted was to find her father and be assured of his safety.
“Shall we go?” Ridge asked.
She tucked her hand into the pocket of her trousers and touched the bracelet. She sucked in her breath and nodded.
“Thank you for your aid, Juan Miguel. Even if in the beginning, I was sure you were naught but a common criminal.”
She smiled as she said it, and Juan Miguel had the grace to look abashed.
“May God be with you,” Juan Miguel called out as India nudged her hor
se forward to follow Ridge.
Robby had been uncharacteristically silent the entire day, and India studied him as they rode north through the village. He was pale, his eyes sunken and his features drawn. He was in pain.
Robby coughed and rubbed his arm across his mouth. She gasped when she saw a smear of red on his sleeve. He, too, saw it and alarm flared in his eyes. He looked up at her in panic then coughed again.
She urged her horse forward until she was abreast of Robby. “Do we need to turn back?” she asked.
Ridge, having heard her question, turned in his saddle and stared at the two of them questioningly. Then his eyes lighted on the blood on Robby’s shirt.
“Robby, what’s wrong? Are you in pain? Do we need to stop?”
Robby straightened in the saddle and thrust his chest forward. “I’m fine. Let’s continue on.”
“But...” Ridge began.
“Let’s go,” Robby said firmly.
As if to cement his statement, he kicked his heels into his horse and galloped ahead, leaving India and Ridge to stare after him.
India flinched at the sorrow so heavy in Ridge’s gaze.
“He’s getting worse isn’t he?” Ridge asked quietly.
The knot grew larger in her throat. She nodded, unable to say anything.
Ridge rubbed his head, dragging his hand through his hair until it was a rumpled mess. “What if he doesn’t make it back to England? I can’t bear the thought of him dying in some strange land.”
“I don’t think he can bear the thought of dying at home,” she said softly.
“Are you two coming or are you going to sit there all day?” Robby called to them several yards ahead.
Ridge pressed his lips together and rode after his brother. India followed at a more sedate pace, her chest aching with regret.
They rode for over an hour, silence draped over them like a heavy fog. Even Robby, ever a jester, remained quiet, his expression solemn. Their horses picked their way carefully over the rocky terrain. Mount Orion loomed over them, filling their vision, and yet they didn’t seem to be getting any closer.
When they topped a particularly steep hill, India pulled up short. Robby and Ridge stopped as well and stared. Before them stood a solid sheet of rock.
It jutted skyward, easily the height of a dozen men. Her gaze slid sideways, examining the width of the barrier. Though not incredibly wide, it fashioned an apron of sorts on the mountain. There was no way over and no way around unless they skirted Mount Orion completely. And that could take days.
There must be a way through it. Her breath caught in her throat. Were they to cut a path into the mountain itself?
She turned to look at Ridge and Robby. “This has to be where the gap in the rock lies.”
Mindful of Juan Miguel’s directions, she slid from her horse and retrieved her bag holding her clothes and supplies. Ridge dismounted and hurried over to help Robby, who to her surprise, accepted Ridge’s aid without protest.
She glanced back at Robby. “Can you make it?”
He nodded, fierce determination molding his features into a hard mask.
Ridge’s hand slipped over her hand, and she squeezed, grateful for his reassurance. Her heart fluttering wildly in her chest, she dropped Ridge’s hand and started toward the rock.
As they drew closer, the shadows cast on the rock by the sun seemed to shift as her focus sharpened. When they were but a few feet away, a crack in the stone became visible. Her heart sped up.
“This is it,” she said.
They paused for a moment, and India found herself almost reluctant to forge ahead. With a shake of her head and a silent scolding, she started for the crevice.
It was a tight squeeze. They all turned sideways and slid along the rough surface of the stone. Her clothes snagged and her bag caught. She twisted and yanked it free.
Halfway in, panic clawed at her throat. She closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to regain control of herself. Sweat beaded her forehead, rolled down her neck and dampened her palms. Flashes of her days in captivity danced wicked steps in her mind.
She took several deep breaths, shook her head then directed her gaze forward, to the light she could see shining aheadFocus on the light. Focus on the light.
Behind her, Ridge grunted as he shoved his much larger frame through the crevice. Her feet, feeling as though they weighed more than the rock they were sliding through, dragged, unwilling to obey her commands. She shook so badly, she feared starting a land slide.
Finally, she vaulted from the rock, heaving great gasps, sucking in precious, clean air. The breeze blew over her damp clothes and the limp tendrils of her hair.
She stood to her full height and gazed in awe at the scenery before her. Mount Orion stood in all its glory, surging upward to the sky in a mass of jagged rock. Near the top, snow glistened in the sun, blinding her when she looked full on.
The rock they had pushed through formed a small pocket between the mountain and the stone barrier. The area they stood in was enclosed, the rock rounding on either side to meet the mountain and mesh seamlessly together.
She reached again for the bracelet, reassuring herself by running her fingers over the rough surface.
Behind her, Robby whistled in appreciation as he stumbled out of the rock. “It’s bloody magnificent.”
Ridge put a hand on her shoulder. “Where do we go now? It appears as though our only option is up. Or through.” He glanced from side to side as he spoke.
She scanned the surroundings, her lips pursed in concentration.
Look to the north, to the great peaks of Orion. In the cradle of the moon lies the doorway. The way is broad that leads to destruction.
The words echoed over and over in her mind. They had traveled north. They had arrived at Orion. In the cradle of the moon lies...
Her eyes fastened on the surface of the rock, the face of Orion. Many colors dotted the rough exterior. A mixture of shadows and light. But mid-way up, the colors became more uniform, a faded pattern rested before her eyes.
She squinted and studied harder, the shape coming alive. It almost resembled a crescent. A moon! An upside down crescent. Cradling...the doorway?
“There,” she exclaimed, pointing upward to the mountain. “Do you see it?” She could scarce contain her excitement.
“See what?” Ridge demanded, shading his eyes with his hand and following the direction of her hand.
“A moon, there on the mountain. In the cradle of the moon lies the doorway.”
He made a sound of discovery. “My God, you’re right. The doorway must be below the moon.”
“Brilliant deduction, old chap.”
Ridge froze, disgust creeping up his spine. He knew that voice. But it couldn’t be. His eyes lighted on a very familiar figure standing just a few feet away. Lord Clarence. Holding a gun in one hand and his obnoxious gold-handled cane in the other.
India gasped in surprise. “What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded.
A woman, huffing and puffing, shoved out of the crevice and joined Lord Clarence, her face mottled and red from exertion. Her gray day dress looked as though she had wallowed in the dirt, and her hair flew about her head like a bird’s nest in a storm.
“Mrs. Unster?” India asked, her tone incredulous.
“Well hello, dearie,” she sang out, but her voice was decidedly cold.
“What do you want,” Ridge ground out.
The no account blackguard could go straight to the devil, and Ridge would like nothing more than to speed him on his way. No way was he going to let Lord Clarence sweep in and steal everything he and India had worked for.
Lord Clarence chuckled, the gun lowering slightly. “That should be obvious. I certainly didn’t follow you all the way from England to say hello.”
“There is nothing here for you to steal,” Ridge gritted out. “Leave us. There are lives at stake.”
Lord Clarence no
dded. “Aye. Yours.”
He leveled the pistol at Ridge. “Hand over the bracelet. Now that you’ve solved the issue of where the gate lies, it should be an easy matter to enter.”
India made a sound of outrage. “How did you get here? And Mrs. Unster, what is the meaning of this?”
“Come now, dearie. Do you think I would have handed something as valuable as my brother’ journal over to that bumbling book seller for such a paltry sum?”
Ridge shook his head in confusion. “What in the name of God are you babbling about, woman?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Mind your tongue, my boy. I have no compunction about having Lord Clarence shoot you now that you are no longer any use to me.”
“Why did you give us the bracelet then go to so much trouble to track us down?” India demanded.
Her eyes gleamed in satisfaction and she thumped a finger to her temple. “It was a most brilliant plan if I do say so myself. How better to find the city than to hand you the means to do so and simply follow your path?”
Lord Clarence snorted. “Stuff and nonsense. Your plan failed miserably.”
Mrs. Unster shot Lord Clarence a quelling look. “It did not go exactly as I planned. I certainly didn’t intend to involve this bumbling idiot,” she said gesturing at Ridge. “But that idiot book seller sold the journal to him instead of her.” She glared at India as she spoke.
Ridge clenched his jaw, ready to strangle the dotty woman. “Are you saying you meant the journal to go to India?”
She nodded vehemently. “What would I want with you? You are merely a rank amateur. I needed the girl’s expertise since her father disappeared about the time Roderick died. I gave the journal to the book seller with explicit instructions, instructions he obviously discarded. When we realized what had happened, we hired someone to break into your home to retrieve it. Of course we had no way of knowing you had joined forces with the girl. We were forced to back off and formulate a new plan.”
Ridge’s eyes widened. But if she and Lord Clarence were behind the break in when the journal had been stolen, it meant the tattooed man had not been the one who harmed India.
