The Road To Avea

by Lynn Lorenz

  "Mostly broken bones--his entire right side is bad--but nothing life-threatening. However, he has not regained consciousness. We don't understand why."

  "He may be using it as a defense. We'll deal with it after he's healed. I'll let the others know and call off the search," Thatcher said. "I hope we can bring his mind back as well as you managed to bring back his body." He shook his head and leaned forward.

  "That was all Sarah's doing."

  "By rights, I should bust you down to a rank patroller, Rolf, for not telling me of this mission of yours. As for Sarah..." He shook his head. "You were right not to tell me. I'm not sure I'd have risked you both."

  "Not even for Stefan?" Rolf's eyebrow rose.

  Thatcher ran his hand over his beard. "Aye. No. I'm not sure. But I owe the two of you my deepest thanks."

  "No need. It was an adventure. I'm only glad I'm able to stand here and say that." He grinned.

  "Something worries me, though, Rolf. You said the man he chased knew of the portal and opened it to flee. If he's one of Blackmoor's men, does it mean Blackmoor himself knows of the portal?" Damon looked at Rolf in concern, as his thick eyebrows came together and he stroked his beard.

  "And to what use is he putting it, eh?" Rolf said.

  * * * *

  Sarah watched as two addlers lowered Stefan onto a cot. The healer removed the thin gown and covered him with a clean sheet and blanket. After checking his injuries, she shook his head the whole time and clucked her tongue. Sarah watched as the woman prepared the poultices to advance the healing of Stefan's wounds.

  "Look at what they did to him. Needle and thread to close his wounds. They sewed his skin as if he were a quilt."

  "Can you heal him?"

  "Well, I'll have to remove these threads first. There may be some scarring." She shrugged. "As for those..." She pointed to the casts on his arm and leg. "They have to be taken off before I can do any good."

  "They're usually cut away." Sarah added, "And the stitches are snipped and pulled out."

  "It'll take at least a day to mend his broken bones and heal his wounds. I'll give him a draught to revitalize him and help him in the healing process. He'll wake as good as new. It might be best if you took your rest, Sarah, and came back later to check on the inspector."

  Giving Stefan a kiss on his forehead, Sarah left. She should probably go to Thatcher and speak with him, but it was all she could do to make it to her room.

  Sarah sat in the chair by the fire and slept.

  * * * *

  Sunshine warmed her shoulders as she stood in a field of wildflowers. The colors were so beautiful, with red poppies, yellow daisies, blue cornflowers all jumbled together in a riotous mixture. She heard her name called in the distance.

  He's home.

  She called her son to her, and he came running from behind the old oak tree, his long black hair trailing behind him. He's so tall for only three, she thought with a touch of mother's pride. Just like his father.

  "It's Papa, Momma. He's back!" The boy grabbed her hand.

  She turned and waved to Stefan as he stood by the house. His arm went up to return her welcome.

  "Damon, I can't run!" She laughed as the little boy ran to his father, pulling her along. When she couldn't move fast enough, he let go and loped ahead through the tall grasses.

  This big belly of hers had become very awkward the last month.

  In her sleep, Sarah's hands moved over her flat stomach.

  * * * *

  Thatcher found Rolf at Stefan's side when he returned at midnight. They watched as the healer continued to work on the inspector. The hip wound had healed with only a light scar. The broken bones remained.

  "I couldn't imagine the extent of his injuries until I saw them, Rolf." Thatcher shook his head. "He's lucky to be alive."

  "Aye, but why won't he wake up? Have you any idea?" Rolf said.

  "Perhaps he's blocking all access to his mind either with the intention of keeping his information safe or perhaps to deal with the pain. No matter what, we must break through to let him know he's safe and can awaken."

  "Will you try to enter his mind, Damon?" Rolf knew very few had that kind of skill. Mercy Loch was one and Thatcher was another. Rolf knew Stefan had been working on the technique, but had never heard of him using it.

  "Aye, but it's no guarantee he'll wake. We must waste no time in this, though, because there is danger." Thatcher raised his wand and started to concentrate.

  * * * *

  Stefan saw the figure approaching, coming out of the light. He recoiled back into shadow, fearing the worse.

  Damon.

  A trick. Trying to exploit his weaknesses.

  Or a demon sent to torment him, to remind him of his failures.

  I must be in hell.

  * * * *

  Thatcher shook his head, lowered his wand, and turned away from the bed. "Stefan is very confused. He's not sure where he is, I fear, or what's happening to him."

  "What are we going to do now?" Rolf looked at Stefan's damaged body.

  "I have another idea, but it'll have to wait until he's fully healed." Thatcher looked to the healer and raised an eyebrow.

  "In the morning, most likely, sir." The healer stepped up to the bed to continue her work.

  * * * *

  Stepping from the castle courtyard into the morning mists, Sarah made her way to the chapel. When she knocked on the door, the young priest answered.

  "Good morn, Patroller Tallow!" He pushed back his brown cowl to expose the tonsure of his shaved head, a sign of his commitment to the One God.

  "I would like to come in, pray, and light a candle."

  "Of course."

  Dozens of thin candles burned. Many were from patrollers, some from their families, and some from folk in the area who used the chapel. The priest himself kept half a dozen or so lit for those in his prayers.

  She placed a candle, put a flame to it, and signed the four sacred points. Then she took a seat on one of the benches. "My One God, I follow in your path. Light my way, guide my powers, and give me strength." She continued with her personal entreaty. "Please hear my prayers." Lowering her head, she prayed for Stefan.

  When she finished, she leaned back and closed her eyes. To rest here calmed her doubts and quieted her mind.

  Damon slipped into the bench next to her and the wood gave off a little creak as his weight settled. She turned to him with a brief smile of acknowledgement. They sat in silence for a while, each with personal thoughts. Then, Thatcher sighed and began to speak.

  "The first time I ever saw Stefan, he couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen." He snorted. "The One God's hell, he was all elbows, knees, and long black hair! Too tall for his age and too shy to speak. Always alone and with that hawk nose of his buried in some book." He leaned back on the bench, seeking a more comfortable position on the hard wood.

  "But, those eyes...they burned. Quick, sharp, and always drinking in everything around him. Smart he was. Too smart for his own good and advanced in his knowledge of majik." He shook his head as Sarah listened. "The other boys thought he was strange and avoided him." Thatcher's eyes held some remembered hurt.

  "I was a new inspector then, just promoted up in Heath, where his people are from. My wife, the One God keep her, had just died the year before from the wasting illness. We had not been blessed with children."

  Sarah translated that into cancer and kept silence.

  "I never saw his mother and by then his father was long dead. Stefan was attending boarding school, just outside of town. He would show up after his lessons. As I made my rounds, he'd follow me, always watching and asking questions. I suppose he wanted to be a patroller even then." He laughed. "I told him if he did well in his studies I'd recommend him for the academy." Damon sat back.

  "He followed me like a stray pup. He was, you know, just like a pup with large paws and head." He held up his own large hands to show her. "Looking at him, you knew he'd be a big m
an once he filled in. Some men, like Stefan and me, grow into themselves as they age." He smiled at her.

  She nodded and returned his smile.

  "But," Damon continued, "in his last year of school, when he was eighteen, he fell in with a bad lot. Rich and idle, with no intentions of ever working an honest day! They persuaded him to follow the dark path. What temptations they offered him, I never knew. But, one whole year he disappeared and ran with that pack of God's bastards!" His voice was vehement. "I was worried sick for him.

  "Then, he reappeared, as if nothing had happened and asked me to put through the recommendation to the academy. I did. He worked like a demon to make top marks." He paused. "I never asked where he'd been or what he'd done, and he never told me."

  Sarah thought she could tell him some of it.

  "No one from his family attended his graduation from the academy. But there was never a prouder father who watched his son take the oath, than I was of that boy who had become mine." He bit his lip and lowered his head. Silence grew between them.

  Sarah gave a deep sigh, then whispered her confession to him. "We married the day before the raid at a chapel in Avea."

  "I know, child."

  "How?" Somehow, it didn't surprise her that he knew.

  "Did Stefan think he could go anywhere in this district, take vows and it not get back to me within the day?" He snorted.

  Sarah looked up to read his face. Damon Thatcher had tears standing in his eyes. She reached out, took his hand, and pressed it to her lips.

  "If he never wakes, what will we do?" She pressed his warm hand to her cheek.

  "He must wake, Sarah. If he doesn't wake soon, he might be trapped inside his own mind, unable to return to us." He squeezed her hand. "Sarah, I need you to help Stefan. You must be strong for him and go inside his mind to tell him it's safe to awaken."

  "I? How? I don't have that ability."

  "I will guide you in, so don't worry," he assured her.

  "Now?" She turned to him, expectantly.

  "Shortly. I'll send for you when all is prepared."

  They rose and made their way to the door.

  Sarah stopped as they passed the candles. "Did you want to light a candle?"

  "Mine are lit, one each day since he went missing." He pointed to the top row of the racks where the first three candles stair-stepped from inches high to full length.

  "Did Mercy help guide your hand?" Her lip twisted up in a half smile.

  "Aye, she did." He paused. "It seems much has come to me late in life."

  "Better late than never?"

  "Sometimes that's when we can appreciate it best."

  They stood at the door as the priest opened it to let them leave. She pressed a gold coin into the priest's hands as she passed.

  Damon left her. She remained just outside the chapel. The mists were burning off as the sun rose higher. It was going to be a beautiful fall day. She turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes, letting it warm her, then she set off for the castle.

  Stepping into the shadow of the stone fortress, she felt a shiver run through her body and rubbed her arms as she hurried up the path.

  * * * *

  Thatcher and Rolf were standing next to Stefan's bed when Sarah entered. Stefan lay still on the narrow cot, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath. Her heart beat as if it would take wing and fly out of her chest.

  "Sarah, I'm so glad you consented to do this." Thatcher took her hand in his. "It could be dangerous, but I'll guide you until you're in. After that, it'll be up to you."

  "What kind of danger?" She looked into his grey eyes.

  "He could resist you, attack you with his mind. I'm hoping he'll still be able to tell real from imagined."

  "Damon, what are you talking about?" She pulled her hand away. "What aren't you telling me?"

  "If you cut yourself off from reality for too long, sometimes you can get lost in your own mind. I'm not saying it's happening to Stefan. When I tried to approach him, he recognized me." He paused.

  "That's good, right?"

  "He recognized me, but he thought he was dead. In hell." He blinked his eyes and turned his head from her to hide his pain.

  Rolf had moved away to give them room, but at Damon's words, his fists clenched and he stepped forward. "Stefan thinks he's dead?"

  Sarah looked from Rolf to Damon as she tried to understand. "How do I convince him he's still alive?"

  "I'm not sure, Sarah. You'll have to think of something once you're in there." Damon offered little guidance.

  Sarah gave him a look of horror, then closed her eyes and took a breath. "That's all you've got for me? Think of something?"

  He shrugged. "You know him, Sarah. Try what you can to reach him."

  There wasn't much else she could do but try. She nodded. Thatcher stood at the side of Stefan's bed.

  "Close your eyes and clear your mind."

  Sarah closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind of all thoughts, but it was difficult. She fought to keep her fears at bay and present a blank page. At last, she calmed herself.

  Thatcher touched her temple with his wand and she felt him touch her mind. Thatcher moved the wand to Stefan's temple, and she felt herself pulled along as if she were flying through a narrow tunnel. Then everything went black.

  She stood, bathed in light, alone on the edge of a vast field of darkness. A large oak tree loomed nearby.

  She'd seen that tree before in her dream. How can it be here? Could Stefan have dreamed it, too?

  She called out Stefan's name. There was no response.

  * * * *

  Stefan heard music.

  Not music. Her voice.

  This was surely hell and torment.

  He listened. Tasted it in the air. Drank it in.

  Thirsty for more, he came closer, knowing he was weak.

  Knowing he was damned. Not caring.

  She waited for him in the field again, standing by the oak tree.

  Calling for him. Calling him home.

  He stepped out of the dark toward her voice.

  He held out his arms and let it wash over him, bathing in its beauty.

  Nothing this pure could exist in hell, could it?

  If he ended existence at this moment, at least he ended with her.

  * * * *

  Sarah walked toward the darkness. A tall, dark figure stood at the edge of the field. Arms outstretched, his long hair blowing in a wind she couldn't feel.

  Sadness and despair poured from him.

  Come with me, Stefan. This isn't death. I've come to bring you home. Let go of your fears. All you have to do is wake up.

  * * * *

  A glorious demon sent to torment him?

  Death? Insanity? Does it matter which? In this place, it's all the same.

  He shook his head and pointed at her. With a flick of his wrist, he held his palm up toward her.

  * * * *

  As if he'd pushed her with his hands, she fell backward, and he expelled her from his mind.

  Sarah collapsed to the floor. Thatcher knelt and helped her sit up.

  "What happened?" Thatcher's brow creased and his eyes held his naked fear.

  "He pushed me out. I saw him. I told him he was safe, to wake up. He didn't even try." Tears formed in her eyes. "It's too late, Damon. He's so lost. He thinks I'm a demon. He may be insane...I don't know." Sarah shook her head and pulled away from Thatcher. Looking down at Stefan, she took his hand and brought it to her lips.

  "We won't stop trying, Sarah. I swear it." Rolf stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  "But for how long?" She looked at Stefan.

  "As long as it takes." Damon's voice was strong and sure.

  Rolf held Sarah away from him, looking into her eyes. "If I have to go inside his mind every day and yell at him to wake up, I will."

  Sarah looked at two of the three men she loved most in the world and knew they wouldn't let Stefan down. Neither
would she. If it took forever, she'd stay here by his side.

  Sarah's hand slid over her belly as she looked at down at her unconscious husband. "This had better not take too long, Stefan."

  Lynn Lorenz

  Ms. Lorenz lives in Katy, Texas, just west of Houston, with her husband, two teens and a neurotic dog. Originally from New Orleans, she's had gay men in her life since high school, so writing gay romance came naturally for her.

  She started writing as a young teen, angsty poetry and short stories, attended the University of New Orleans as an English major, but switched to Fine Art, graduating with a B.A. She put down her paintbrush and picked up a pen just three years ago, and hasn't stopped writing yet.

  Although previously published, David's Dilemma is the first of her books with Amber Quill's Amber Allure line, and she plans on releasing more with them.

  Find out more about Lynn at www.lynnlorenz.com.

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

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  Table of Contents

  THE AVALON PATROL: THE ROAD TO AVEA

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Lynn Lorenz