by Maya Banks
“It doesn’t matter who you wanted to have the damn thing,” Lord said impatiently. “Let’s take the bracelet and get on with it.”
Mrs. Unster huffed but she turned her flinty stare on Ridge then flitted her eyes to India and Robby. “Shoot the viscount. The other one is sickly and the girl isn’t big enough to harm a fly.”
“No!” India cried out. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the bracelet, thrusting it toward Lord Clarence. “Take the bracelet, but leave Ridge alone. You have what you want.”
“And how would you know what I want?” Lord Clarence sneered. “Maybe I want him dead.”
“Be silent, India,” Ridge ordered. The last thing he wanted was for India to raise Lord Clarence’s ire. He was an unstable, maniacal bastard, and Ridge didn’t want that turned on India.
Mrs. Unster snatched the bracelet from India’s hand and crowed in delight. “It’s ours!”
“No, you old fool, it’s mine,” Lord Clarence said. Without another word he turned the pistol on Mrs. Unster and fired.
Mrs. Unster gripped her chest, a look of utter shock engraved on her face. Ridge whipped around, prepared to tackle Lord Clarence.
“Not so fast, Ridgewood,” Lord Clarence said evenly. He dropped his gun, quickly pulled another pistol from his waistband and pointed it at Ridge once again. “Surely you don’t think me unprepared?”
Ridge inwardly seethed, his nerves taut, every muscle tensed. A sound to his side turned his attention from Lord Clarence long enough to see Mrs. Unster fall in a heap a few feet away.
India cried out and started toward the woman.
“Stay away from her,” Lord Clarence ordered, waving the pistol at India. “You,” he said, motioning at Robby. “Don’t try anything stupid or I’ll expedite your journey to the grave.”
Ridge focused his entire attention of Lord Clarence, looking for any weakness, any opportunity to disarm him. He would not allow India or Robby to come to harm, not while he lived.
“It will do me great pleasure to make your brother the heir, for the short time he will carry the title.” He laughed as if he found himself greatly amusing.
“Why do you loathe him so much?” India asked softly, her eyes locked on Lord Clarence.
“Before he joined the historical society, I held a position of respect and honor. When he came along, he ruined my credibility. He made me look a fool.”
“I can’t make you look more of a fool than you already are,” Ridge said, effectively turning Lord Clarence’s attention back on him. “I exposed your thievery and your blatant lack of knowledge. That was hardly a bad thing.”
Lord Clarence chuckled. “It won’t work you know. You’re trying to make me angry. And truly, I could have overlooked your intellectual ramblings among our peers, but then you managed to enlist the aid of Miss Ashton when she turned me down flat. I knew she was key to discovering the city’s whereabouts.”
India’s mouth flew open. “What? I’ve never met you before in my life.”
Lord Clarence stared icily at her. “Indeed. How could you have made my acquaintance when you refused to answer my invitations?”
“I was in mourning,” she spat. “If I received any invitations, Udaya handled them for me.”
Lord Clarence shook his head. “It is of no import. In the end, I am the victor. I will return to England triumphant, and the viscount will die here.”
He turned and stared at Ridge, his hand steadying as he took his aim. Dear God, Lord Clarence was actually going to do it. His mind raced. He would have to rush Lord Clarence and take his chances.
He started forward, and he heard India cry out. Then to his horror, she leaped in front of him, grasping him, her arms tight around him, shielding him with her body. He flinched as he heard the crack of the pistol shot. Then her body went slack against him.
No!
He stared down at her shocked face, etched with pain, and he let out a cry of agony. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Robby lurch forward as if to intervene, and his heart nearly stopped. He couldn’t lose them both.
Letting India slide from his arms, he charged Lord Clarence like a raging bull. His heart screamed, his mind shut down. All he could see was India sliding down his body, her beautiful eyes closing.
He buried his shoulder in Lord Clarence’s midriff and drove him to the ground. In the distant recesses of his shattered mind, he could hear Robby calling India’s name.
Lord Clarence attacked like a mad man. He knew he was fighting for his life. Over and over they rolled on the ground. Lord Clarence kicked desperately at Ridge, finally landing a blow to Ridge’s groin.
In the instant Ridge paused, Lord Clarence scrambled to his feet and lunged for his cane. With a twist to the gold handle, metal flashed from the end.
Ridge lunged for Lord Clarence again but drew up short when he saw the wicked blade glistening in the sun. Lord Clarence smiled as he circled Ridge. A predator stalking his prey.
“Give up now, Ridgewood, and I will spare you a long, painful death.”
Ridge stared at him, allowing every ounce of his hatred to spill over. “If you think you are living beyond this day, you are wrong. Dead wrong.”
Lord Clarence paled. Sweat beaded his forehead, one trickle easing down his temple. He slashed at Ridge with the blade, but Ridge easily dodged.
“I’ll not be bested by a pasty-faced book worm,” Lord Clarence taunted.
Ridge raised a brow in a mocking manner. “Think you I spent all my time in books these past years?” He chuckled as if holding some great secret, amused by Lord Clarence’s foolishness.
It worked to cause Lord Clarence even more uncertainty. Fear crept into his eyes, and he lashed out with more carelessness.
Ridge leaped back, the blade narrowly missing his abdomen. He must end this quickly. India’s life was at stake. If she still lived at all.
He feigned right with his body, and when Lord Clarence committed his cane, Ridge gripped the polished wood with his right hand and yanked with all his strength.
Lord Clarence fell forward, sprawling on the ground. Ridge was on him in an instant. The coward had been easy to best once he wasn’t standing behind a pistol.
Ridge threw the cane as far as he could then grabbed Lord Clarence by the lapels and punched him in the jaw. Lord Clarence’s head snapped back and Ridge’s hands closed around Lord Clarence’s neck.
Ridge straddled Lord Clarence’s prone body, his fingers squeezing the life from the bastard. Never before could he have conceived of killing another human being, but in this instant, it was all he could think about.
“Ridge! Ridge! Stop! Son, don’t do it!”
Ridge’s hands loosened as shock arced through his system. He yanked his head up to see a man bursting from the crevice, running toward him. A man that looked remarkably like his father. But it couldn’t be. Or maybe he had truly gone mad the moment India was shot.
“Ridge!” the man called again as he drew closer.
Ridge cocked his head, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Father?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ridge watched stupefied as his father ran toward him. Lord Clarence began to squirm beneath him, and Ridge experienced a moment of indecision. He wanted to kill him. Rage whispered through his blood, humming, buzzing until he feared he would go mad.
“Ridge, thank God I found you in time,” his father said, his breath coming in labored spurts.
Slowly Ridge released Lord Clarence and stood up. What the devil was his father doing here? Had he indeed lost all vestiges of sanity in the horrible moment India had been shot?
He stumbled toward his father, his mind whirling. Behind him, he heard Robby shout a warning. His father raised his arm and Ridge saw the flash of a pistol just seconds before a shot rent the air. He turned to see Lord Clarence crumbled on the ground holding the cane tightly in his hand. He had tried to kill Ridge when he’d turned his back.
“Father?” He knew he sounded bewildered, but the entire world had gone mad around him. His father was here. How was he here? And he’d shot Lord Clarence?
The earl drew abreast of Ridge and put a hand on his shoulder. “Go to her. I’ll see to this snake.”
Ridge scrambled over the dirt and rocks to where Robby sat on the ground, holding India to his chest.
“She’s all right, I think,” Robby said, his voice shaky. “I mean she’s alive. The bullet entered her shoulder, not her chest.”
But there was blood everywhere. Ridge swallowed then swallowed again. He wanted to howl. He wanted to go back and kill the bastard himself.
He knelt and gathered India in his arms, surveying her pale face. He ran his hands over her body, fearing she would feel cold, lifeless. Her chest rose and fell slowly, too slowly. Each breath seemed to take eternity.
“What is Father doing here?” Robby demanded, his voice holding as much incredulity as Ridge’s had a moment ago.
Ridge ignored the question, his entire being focused on the woman in his arms. The woman he loved more than anything.
“Give me your shirt,” he ordered Robby.
Robby shed his shirt without hesitation and thrust it at Ridge. Ridge balled it up and pressed it to India’s shoulder, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
“Is she alive?” their father asked grimly.
Ridge turned his head to see the earl standing over them, concern etched on his face.
Ridge nodded. Helplessness took firm hold of him. Panic crawled over his spine. They were miles from nowhere and India desperately needed a doctor.
“What are you doing here?” Robby demanded, rising to stand by his father.
To Ridge’s surprise, the earl threw his arms around Robby and held him tightly.
“My God, I prayed I wasn’t too late.”
The earl’s voice broke half way through, and Ridge could swear his father was weeping.
Gently, Ridge turned India over and swept his fingers over the back of her shoulder. It came away dry. No holes or tears were evident in her shirt. Which meant the ball was still in her shoulder.
He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. What could he do?
His father knelt down beside him, his eyes swollen and puffy. “I have much to say to both of you, but first we must tend to this young lady. I owe her much. She saved my son’s life.”
“You saw?” Ridge asked in surprise.
The earl flinched. “It was the worst moment of my life. I could see you from the crevice, but I was wedged so tightly, I couldn’t move in time. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.”
The earl looked down at India. “She is a brave woman.”
“I can’t lose her,” Ridge whispered.
The earl clapped a hand on Ridge’s shoulder. “And so we won’t.” He hesitated a moment then said, “We must get her to Pagoria.”
Ridge looked at his father in confusion. “What is it you aren’t telling me, Father? How did you find us here, and how do you know about the city?”
His father dug a hand into his hair, and suddenly he looked every bit his age. The lines in his face seemed etched in stone, and the gray at his temples had spread liberally through his hair.
“My father is there, and he is a trained physician.”
Both Robby and Ridge stared at their father as if he had grown a second head. Ridge struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what the earl had said.
The earl’s father? Ridge’s grandfather? He had died years ago. Or so he had been told. Had his father truly lied about something like that?
He glanced down at India and applied more pressure to her shoulder. Then he gathered her in his arms, cradling her closely, protectively to him. He stood then leveled a look at his father. “You have much explaining to do, but you’ll have to do it on the way. I can’t take chances with India bleeding the way she is.”
Robby strode to where Mrs. Unster’s body lay and gingerly removed the bracelet from her fingers. “We’ll have need of this.” He stuffed it into his pocket and returned to stand by Ridge. “She said the doorway stands in the cradle of the moon, and that is the only moon I see,” he said, pointing at the stone face of Mount Orion. “So let’s start walking.”
“Son, are you all right?” the earl asked Robby. “How are you feeling?”
For once Robby didn’t hide behind a silly jest or shrug off the question. He looked at their father with the full scope of his grief.
“I don’t have long I fear. And I won’t have India dying before me. If you say there is help in the city, then the city we’ll go to.”
The earl wrapped an arm around Robby and began walking toward the mountain.
“Let me help you, son. And I’ll explain everything to you and Ridge.”
Ridge gripped India tighter in his arms and made to follow his brother and father. He glanced down at her face, so still and calm. So peaceful looking.
“Don’t go, my love,” he whispered. “I need you.”
He stumbled toward the mountain, his heart aching with each step. His father slowed until Ridge drew abreast of him and Robby.
“I have much to beg your forgiveness for,” the earl said in a tone heavy with regret. “I want you both to know that I love you, and that I’ve made mistakes. I can only pray you will find it in your heart to look past an old man’s foolishness.”
Ridge and Robby exchanged astonished looks.
India moaned softly in his arms, and he glanced down, joy flooding his heart.
“India? India, my love, can you hear me?”
She stirred restlessly in his arms, her face twisted in pain. Her eyes fluttered open briefly, then they closed and she went limp against him once more.
“We must hurry,” the earl said grimly. “I will explain everything later.”
Ridge looked ahead at the sheer wall of rock exploding from the ground skyward. His eyes searched out the pattern of the moon and followed the centerline down to the base of the mountain.
“It should be there,” he said with a nod of his head.
A small cave. He knew it would be there. He was beginning to not even question the images that danced in his head, the vivid remembrances he had of this area. And now to find out his grandfather had traveled this way. Suddenly everything began to make sense.
Shifting India gently in his arms, he walked in the direction of his gaze.
“Help me look,” he said to the others. “There should be an entrance, or doorway, or something that tells us which direction to go.”
“Perhaps you should set her down while we look,” his father suggested.
Ridge gripped her tighter against him. “She is fine where she is.”
They spread out as they neared the steep incline. Ridge’s eyes searched the rock outcroppings, the indentions, curves, the rivulets carved in the face of the mountain by countless rains and winds.
“Here!” Robby cried out.
Ridge turned to see Robby waving him over.
He and his father hurried to where Robby stood, and Ridge surveyed the area. At first he saw nothing but a large boulder-like formation, but on closer examination, he saw it shielded a small cave entrance.
His mind flashed. He saw an older man standing at the cave smiling back at him, motioning him forward. Was it his grandfather? Could Ridge have also been here before?
He turned to look at his father, his mouth agape at the implications. How could the earl have kept something such as this from him? Spurned his interest in Pagoria for all these years?
The earl looked discomfited by Ridge’s scrutiny as if he knew well what his son was thinking. Remembering. Had his father been here as well?
“Is there room for us all?” Robby asked doubtfully as he stuck his head into the cave.
“Father should know,” Ridge said pointedly.
The earl looked down, unable to meet Ridge’s stare. “You remember.”<
br />
It wasn’t a question.
“I’m beginning to,” Ridge said. “How could you keep something like this from me?”
Robby looked between the two of them in confusion. “What the devil are you two going on about? And can’t this wait?”
Ridge looked down at India. “Yes, it must wait. We must find aid for her.”
They ducked into the cave, each having to hunker down to walk down the darkened passage. Ridge turned and moved slowly, not wanting to jostle India more than necessary. He had been here. His father had been here. How? When so many had searched unsuccessfully for centuries. How could he not have remembered something so important?
He must have been terribly young because the memories only came in snatches, brief, fuzzy images. But the man he had always seen. It could only be his grandfather. And his father acted as though his grandfather was still alive.
Farther into the mountain they shuffled. In the distance, Ridge could hear the plinking of water as it dripped onto rock. The air was cool, and it smelled musty and dank. He couldn’t see. He could only feel his way down the passage after Robby and his father.
After several minutes, the passage opened up, and high overhead, a small beam of sunlight shafted through a crack in the ceiling of the cave.
He looked around, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. They were in a small cavern, completely surrounded by a wall of rock and smooth limestone. Then his gaze lit on the far wall.
It resembled a large doorway. Engraved in the surface were symbols. Pagorian writing. As he moved closer, he could see an arch etched into the rock and a centerline carved from the floor to the midpoint of the arch.
There, in the middle, was a circular design carved into the rock. Right where a knob would be if it were indeed a door. He stretched out a hand, running his fingers over the area. Inside the circle was a series of bumps and designs.
This is where the bracelet must fit. The key. A key, indeed.
“The bracelet, Robby. Put it here.”
Robby stepped forward and tentatively placed the bracelet into the wall. It was a perfect fit. Robby stepped hastily back when the bracelet suddenly began to glow brilliant blue.
