Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad)

by *lizzie starr

  Concern over missing a possibly important factor washed over him. Straightening his spine, he shoved at the concern, dislodging it only slightly. Searlait had addressed this. He closed his eyes to visualize a page in his journal. No nourishment nor liquid were necessary to maintain life. However, he would suggest carrying water and protein bars. If for nothing more than to maintain a semblance of normality in a place where normal was an emptiness of nothing.

  He pulled a cutting board from a low cupboard.

  “Well now, that’s what I like to see. A man who knows his proper place.”

  He froze at Lucidea’s droll statement, then took an oddly-shaped Faerie knife from a wooden block. “I thought to make myself useful.”

  “You’re supposed to be asleep,” Breanna said. Delighted with the sound of her voice, he closed his eyes to let the melodious tones flow over him. Just her voice could heal him—if he would allow.

  The women moved further into the kitchen until they hovered behind him. “You may set the table,” he said. “It will not be long until breakfast.”

  Bree leaned over his shoulder and he inhaled the spicy floral scent of her hair. The aroma skated along his senses, tugging at his heart.

  “Oh, good,” she said as she turned back to Lucidea. “He’s making scrambled eggs. Unless...” She touched his shoulder and he held back a sigh of longing. “Unless you’re fixing omelets.”

  He cleared his throat. “Which would you prefer?”

  “Plain old scrambled eggs, please. Of course I still want all that stuff you have out on the counter in them.”

  “Of course.” Gowthaman managed a smile. Breanna had an almost passionate love of scrambled eggs. Such a simple thing and yet she found such joy and delight with each bite. Passion filled her, spilled out into everything she did. Frustrated with himself for recognizing her passions yet refusing to allow her to share with him, he whacked an egg on the side of the bowl, shattering the shell.

  Holding his breath for a moment calmed the disturbed churning in his chest and belly. It was not the egg’s fault he was a fool.

  Breanna chuckled. “I guess I will set the table. Doesn’t look like you’re working to well with an audience this morning. Want me to magic the shells out of the bowl for you?”

  “Thank you, but no. Such is a frivolous use of magic that would be better used elsewhere.”

  Breanna patted the counter next to the bowl. “I know. Just make sure you get all the shells out. You know I don’t like crunchy eggs.” Her chuckle filled the kitchen as she moved to gather plates and silverware.

  Bereft of her warmth, Gowthaman methodically and carefully removed the broken shells from the bowl then finished cracking the eggs. Ignoring the busy sounds behind him, he completed his preparations and moved the bowl and piles of ingredients to the stove. By the time a platter of scrambled eggs studded with ham, bacon, vegetables and cheese graced the center of the table, the others had found their ways into the kitchen.

  The early meal was congenial. No one spoke of the coming night’s mission or the world between worlds. Grateful, Gowthaman willingly moved back to the stove to make a second platter of eggs.

  Although Chance still munched on thick, toasted bread slathered with berry jam, the others pushed their plates away. Gowthaman focused on one of his concerns. “Will you be taking provisions?”

  Coralie nodded. “I’ve packed food and water already. Even though ’twill no’ be physically needed, we’ll care for our bodies. Each will carry a careful day’s amount.” She grinned. “An’ mayhap a bit more. Especially Chance.”

  “Hey.”

  “Ye are the strongest among us, are ye no’?”

  “Just because I’m a guy. Geez, Coralie, you’re as bad as Bree.”

  Breanna leaned back and crossed her arms. “Now it’s my turn to say ‘hey’.”

  Coralie rose and reached for plates to clear the table. “’Tis no’ such a bad thing to be a man, young Chance. In truth, since we are no’ used to campin’, we shall all feel the weight of our packs. An’ in truth, I believe we may wish them heavy far longer than the weight remains.”

  “I don’t doubt,” Chance grumbled then shoved his finally empty plate toward the stack Coralie piled at the edge of the table. “Bree? Shouldn’t Searlait be here by now?”

  Gowthaman wondered the same thing, but hesitated to mention the passing time. Now he turned his expectant gaze to Breanna. She sat with her head bowed and palms flat against the table. In the silence, she shook her head then lifted a sad gaze to the gathering. She looked at each in turn, but her brilliant blue eyes fell to him last and she held his gaze.

  “I spoke with Macaire this morning. Searlait... well, she won’t be coming with us.” She paused and the pain of what she had not said filled him.

  He cleared his throat and nodded once. “She is unable to face the world between worlds. She cannot find the strength within her to enter again.”

  Breanna’s focus remained on his face as though she drew strength from him. Remaining silent, he gave what he could, offering all his damaged soul to assist her.

  “No, she can’t. Macaire said she tried, but fears if she goes back, she will never return—that somehow she would trapped there. Forever this time.”

  Chance shifted in his chair. “How does this affect the mission?”

  Straightening her shoulders, she answered. “Only in that we will be one person less.”

  “But what about everything she knows about the world between worlds? Might we get stuck there?” Chance leaned his chair back on two legs, the casual position belying the seriousness of his questions.

  “We’ll just go with what we know. She’s given us plenty of information in the past. And Gowthaman’s been supplying so much more. We’ll be... we’ll be fine, Chance. You, Coralie and I will bring Morghan home.”

  The offering of his journal seemed insignificant now, but it was all Gowthaman had to give. “You will take the journal with you. My research may not be as helpful as someone directly able to answer questions, but with luck, the answers will be there.”

  “Take the journal?” Breanna’s eyes grew wide and curious.

  He’d surprised her with the offer. “Yes. Why else would I have compiled the information in a portable form?” He winced, the words had sounded so ponderous and self-important. He angled to face her. “Breanna, I have done this for you.”

  She took his hand, the warmth of her soft palm offering more than he could ever have to return. “Thank you, Gowtham. I’ve tried to memorize what I felt was important, but there’s just so much to know. With the journal we’ll be fine.” The pressure from her fingers caused him to look down at their joined hands. “Thank you.”

  He read a wealth of feeling into the two simple words and understood her gratitude was for much more than just a simple journal. He covered their hands with his free hand and returned the pressure. A simple gesture. An easy thing to do. Yet it was difficult to maintain the contact when he ached for so much more.

  Bree closed her eyes to savor a few moments of physical contact with Gowtham. Captured between his larger hands, hers felt small, delicate, cherished. Warmth seeped into her fingers. Had the stress of the last hour chilled her skin? Such a thing was possible she supposed.

  The pressure against her fingers lessened. She released a soft breath. If he was true to form, the comfort Gowtham offered wouldn’t last much longer.

  To her surprise, he lifted his hands slightly and turned the bottom one until their palms touched, keeping the joining hidden beneath his right hand. His fingers curled between hers.

  “I wish I had been able to accomplish more.”

  Meanings beyond the simple words, meant only for her, tumbled through her mind. To have the leisure to explore those meanings would be bliss. To discover Gowthaman’s true feelings... ah, her heart skittered in her chest.

  Scowling like a schoolboy sent to the principal’s office, Chance dropped the chair back to four legs with a clatter an
d slouched low in the seat. “So, we’re minus Searlait but we’ve got the book. Where does that put us in terms of the mission? I mean, what’s changed?” He glanced sideways at Coralie and grimaced. “Other than the fact I’ve got to lug a bigger pack.”

  Jayse chuckled and slapped him on the back. “You’ll be fine.” Then he looked at each of them in turn. “You all will be. We’re so confident, Dea Annie and I have already begun planning the coming home party. How does... popcorn and a movie sound?” He gave Bree a wink. The men of her extended family loved to tease.

  She shook her head. “I was thinking more along the lines of everybody leaving the manor to Coralie and Morghan. For their own homecoming.”

  Bright red flamed over Coralie’s cheeks. “Oh, nay. Lucidea is no’ allowed to travel the portals. I will no’ chance her child fer my own...” She sighed, clasped her hands together, then smiled. “My own desires.”

  “We can take the car, you know,” Lucidea offered. “It’s been awhile since we’ve traveled the Scottish countryside.” She glanced at Jayse from under her lashes. “Remember that bed and breakfast up on the northern coast?”

  “Oh, aye. That I do, lassie.” Jayse scooted his chair closer to his wife. “And do you remember that little glen hidden deep between the rocks? There was barely room for us to—”

  “Jayse.” Lucidea slapped his arm.

  He waggled his eyebrows. “I see you remember. I think our visit there would be a wonderful homecoming for your uncle. After you’ve had the time for proper hellos and introductions of course. I’ve never met the man, though I feel I know him well. I’m sure we’re all anxious to overwhelm him with a Zeroun clan welcome.”

  “Overwhelm is right,” Chance said. “But to be here, to be home, I can’t imagine he’ll mind. But that doesn’t answer my question. Does lacking Searlait change our plans in any way?”

  Gowtham squeezed her hand but when she glanced at him, he turned to stare out the wide kitchen window toward the loch. She treasured that silent show of support more than any boisterous word from another.

  “I don’t think so. We know what we need to do. Enter the world between worlds.” Gowtham’s fingers tightened painfully around hers for a moment. When he relaxed his hold, he trembled. Bree made a rapid, silent vow. Once home, she’d never speak of the world between worlds around him again. There would be no need.

  She continued to the others, “We find Morghan. I know there are many different landscapes and areas there, however, as far as we know, none of them are extremely large. Unless Morghan discovered how to move from one to the next as Searlait did, I’m hoping he won’t be too far from where the veil will open. I’m sure he’d realize that any rescue would come from the same location as where he was pulled through.

  “Once we find him, we watch for the elemental and bide our time until the full moon. We’ve got two nights. Searlait said, and I believe Gowthaman’s research supports the notion, that time there will flow with the same speed as here. So, two days. Then we’ll reopen the veil and come home.”

  Chance gave her a droll lift of his eyebrows. “In other words, we’re winging it?”

  She threw him an exasperated glare. “It would be great if we didn’t have to deal with the fire elemental, but I can’t imagine he’ll be too far from our point of entry either. He’ll probably try to use our magic to weasel his way to this world. That will not happen. We will end this now. Brandr Ur will be controlled. One way or another.”

  A tiny catch at the base of her throat stopped her impassioned words. She didn’t like killing, didn’t relish even the thought of destroying another being. But she also knew this being, this fire elemental, would be stopped no other way. If he was not destroyed, their family might never be rid of him.

  She glanced at her brother. Just like another powerful being had plagued the Zeroun clan for centuries, ending in Chance’s conception. Her gaze skipped to Jayse and Lucidea. They had destroyed that being, literally cutting the evil faerie in two.

  “Uh, I need to take a walk.” Without another word, Chance rose and left the kitchen. Bree rose to follow but Gowthaman’s gentle pressure on her hand held her in place.

  Nightshade spoke softly. “Leave him be. He’s got to work out his own issues, little girl. You trust him enough to bring him on this mission? Extend that trust to him now.”

  She glared at Nightshade, then sighed. “As usual, you’re right.” Plopping back to her seat, she slipped her hand from Gowthaman’s and hugged herself, rubbing her shoulders. “I’ll give him some time. But we all need to discuss our final strategies this afternoon.”

  “Even though it is early in the day, you must rest.” Gowthaman made the declaration in a low voice.

  “I don’t have time—”

  “You will make time.”

  “But there’s...” She turned in her chair to face him. The stony look he gave surprised her, the tight squaring of his jaw, the thin set to his lips. The normally soft, tortured chocolate brown of his eyes had firmed to deep, black ice.

  Her shoulders drooped. “You’re right. We’ll all need to rest. But now I...”

  Gowthaman shook his head. “I know you will not. Even if your body is at rest, your mind will work frantically at what you perceive as problems. Come, while you relax we will discuss the information in the journal. The lord and lady will make sure Coralie and Chance rest as well.” He canted his head toward Jayse and Lucidea. “Will you not?”

  “Of course,” Jayse agreed. “And even though we don’t need to, we’ll double check that Coralie thought of everything the group might need.”

  Coralie gave a soft snort of mock disgust then joined Nightshade in laughter.

  “I see I’m completely outnumbered,” Bree said. “Okay, Gowtham, lead on. I’ll try to relax while you fill my brain.” Secretly she was delighted to spend time alone with him, even if it was while he lectured to her. She glanced back as she followed him from the kitchen. From the smug looks on the four remaining faces, her delight wasn’t so secret after all.

  Thirteen

  Gowthaman’s hand was a warm comfort around hers and Breanna cherished each second he let the contact remain. When they reached the library, he led her to the couch.

  “I’m not going to be able to sleep, you know.”

  “Yes, I know. This will be more comfortable than sitting at the table. I doubt you will find much of comfort in the...” He swallowed heavily. “Where you go... no.” He swallowed again as if finding the strength to speak the name. “In the world between worlds. So take your ease while you are able.”

  Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, but even without a physical reminder, she knew how much effort just saying those worlds cost him. That he would speak the name of a place he dreaded held deep meaning—for both of them. Before she could say anything, he turned to cross to the table and retrieve his slim leather journal.

  He returned with the book and sat close to her. Their thighs touched. She held her breath but he didn’t adjust his position and remained close as he opened the journal on the coffee table before them.

  Pressing both palms flat against the pages, he sighed. “I believe you already know what I have placed upon these pages. The challenge will be accessing the appropriate information quickly. I do not know how much time you will have should a... a problem arise. I regret I cannot offer you more.”

  She leaned forward and rested her hands over his. “It’ll be enough, Gowtham. Don’t worry.”

  “But, I will worry.” He turned his face toward hers. Inches only separated them. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Each moment until you have safely returned.”

  “We will return. With Morghan.” She lowered her voice as well. “I promise.”

  Silent, he angled, almost facing her. Emotions played across his features, and she wished he would allow her to understand and to know him. He held her gaze while a long moment passed. Sensing movement, Bree glanced down to where he lifted one hand then returned her gaze to flo
at in the searching chocolate dark of his eyes.

  The tip of one finger touched her jaw, just below her ear. Her breath caught at the base of her throat. With infinite slowness, each fingertip touched her face, his thumb finally resting just below her chin. He barely touched her yet heat charged through her, awakening the desires she’d kept wrapped safely away from the world. From him.

  Bending his fingers, he skimmed his knuckles along the curve of her cheek, back and forth, softly drawing her closer. Tingles followed his touch then her skin flushed hotter. She drew a shaky breath.

  Light as a feather’s touch he pressed one finger to her lips and slowly shook his head. Lost in the intense glitter of his dark eyes, Breanna waited. In the depths of her mind a tiny voice laughed in delight. The world really did slow. Time really did pause. Nothing existed for her but Gowtham’s tender expression, his touch, his breath...

  His kiss.

  Warm and firm, yet with tentative pressure, his lips brushed hers. She closed her eyes to savor the gentle caress. Her being burst to life, every cell alive, affirming, aching for more. But she held still, kept her hands in her lap, unwilling to break whatever spell had eased through at least one layer of Gowtham’s self-imposed solitude.

  The only contact between them remained their lips and the tips of his fingers against her cheek, yet he held her there as surely, as permanently as if she were bound. She had no wish, no desire to escape.

  Gowtham eased back, but only a wisp of air separated their mouths. His breath flowed over her skin. She ached to open her eyes, to see his expression, yet fear of what she wouldn’t see kept her in darkness. His fingers moved, joined by the sensual touch of his other hand to caress and stroke, as if memorizing the structure of her face.

  She smiled. Gowtham took a sharp intake of breath then tunneled his fingers through her hair, gently tilting her head. His lips... oh, when his lips captured hers, she sighed. He took advantage, as she’d hoped, and slowly ran his tongue along the parted seam of her lips.