The subtle command in Jayse’s voice reminded Nightshade of his brother. He smiled despite the memories crowding to the forefront of his mind. Tonight, at least, there was no time for memories. He had important news for Jayse and Lucidea.
“You know it is, honey.”
“Everything... okay?”
That was a loaded question. “Give me a moment, honey. I’ll tell you everything there is to know.”
“Lucidea’s—”
“Impatient?”
“Understatement.”
Nightshade sauntered into the circle of light highlighting the manor’s front door. Jayse stood under the deep overhang, his pose casual, his expression intense. His gaze darted past Nightshade’s shoulder. “Where’s Gowthaman?”
Nightshade remained silent.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Jayse said, “He’s not going to sit up there on the hill until they get back, is he?”
“Worse than that, honey. Or, maybe better.”
“I don’t have time nor patience for your word games, Shade.”
Nightshade clasped him on the shoulder. “Then let’s go inside and I’ll tell everyone all about it.”
Lucidea rushed forward as soon as they entered the family room, then hung on Jayse’s arm while she stared silently at Nightshade, expectation glowing in her eyes. Tori hovered slightly behind them reminding him of the trio opening the veil. He smiled, unable to make them wait any longer.
Sinking onto an overstuffed chair, he waved one hand. “Coralie experienced no difficulty in calling the veil then opening it. Although, their access point didn’t remain open and accessible as long as we’d hoped. They all got through just fine. I could see them, dimly, like through a fog, for a short time before the veil closed off completely.”
Lucidea perched on the ottoman. “Did they have any trouble getting through?”
“The veil opened, oh, maybe four feet from the cliff edge of the hill so they had to make a jump. No problem for any of them.”
“Any... any sign of Morghan?”
“Not that I could tell, honey. But then, I could only see about six feet into the world between worlds. And that not clearly.”
She leaned against Jayse when he sat beside her. “I know. I was just hoping this whole thing would be easy. You know. He’d be standing there waiting and they could turn right around and come back without waiting the two nights. That would have been good.”
“That it would, honey. That it would.”
Lost in their own thoughts, they fell silent. Until Tori leaned over the back of Nightshade’s chair. “What did you do with Gowthaman?”
“I did nothing with the man except encourage him to admit his feelings to Bree.” Wishing that answer would suffice, Nightshade held his breath for a few seconds then shook his head. “Didn’t work. However, more significantly, when Bree crossed into the world between worlds, his journal remained in this world.”
“Explain.”
Nightshade cocked his head at Jayse’s peremptory tone then continued. “Gowthaman gave her the journal just before she made her leap. She had it tight in her hand. Once she was through, the journal lay on the ground in this world. Gowthaman attempted to shove it through to her, but the spell was breaking down and the veil repairing itself. Even if it had been open wide, I don’t believe the journal would have passed through.”
“Any idea why not?” Jayse asked.
“I’m afraid, my darlings, that I do not. I’m sure you must all realize how frantic our good librarian became when his knowledge was denied to the woman he loves.”
“So what happened?” Tori touched the journal, disrupting the delicate balance where he’d rested it on his thigh.
“He went through.”
Jayse frowned. “Gowthaman? Through what?”
Nightshade leaned forward. “Gowthaman, despite his fears, knew the team needed information he’d not had the time to give them. Information compiled only in his journal, and in his brain. So despite his fears, Gowthaman forced his way through the closing veil and into the world between worlds.”
“Oh my God,” Lucidea stammered. “What if being there really snaps his control, his mind. What if...”
“Don’t be borrowing trouble, honey. There’s more to Gowthaman than we realize.” Nightshade chuckled. “And definitely more to him than he knows.”
“Still...”
“He’ll be fine. They will all be fine. And back home with us in two night’s time.” The determination in Jayse’s words was a balm to the worry binding Nightshade’s heart. With luck, the mission would be a success. But he wouldn’t trust only to luck.
“So, my darlings, we have two days and nights to prepare ourselves for their triumphant return. I suggest we leave nothing to chance on this side of the veil.”
“So, Shade,” Jayse rose and stretched before offering his hand to his wife. “What do we do?”
Easing to his feet, Nightshade held up Gowthaman’s journal. “I don’t know about you, honey, but I’ve got some reading to do.”
Seventeen
Breanna’s warmth kneeled beside him. Gowthaman flattened his hands against the crumbly earth. He would find the strength to function, to serve this mission with the best of his knowledge and ability. He curled his fingers capturing dirt against his palms. And if he died in this place, at least he would be at her side. Cool fingers brushed his forehead.
He rolled to his back, took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Flat and cloudless, the gray sky showed only the barest hint of a sun—or moon. No more than he expected. He shook his head, reprimanding himself. No, not what he had expected. The other time, when he’d wished to remain, he had been held in an area Searlait later explained was reserved for judgment, a place of swirling mists and a mind-shrouding fog.
He had been told there was variety in the world between worlds. Not of color, but of landscapes, as if the area had once been a world itself, then was blown apart to fill the gaps between other universes. He knew that. But had still expected, and perhaps hoped, for the Watcher’s fog.
Even dulled by the odd gray coloring, Breanna’s face was beautiful when she filled his vision, blocking the sky. “Gowtham?” she asked softly and brushed the hair from his forehead. “Why did you follow us?”
Unable to bear the strange, frightened light in her eyes, he turned his head to stare at Coralie’s bare feet and Chance’s well-worn athletic shoes. He chuckled at the contrast then caught the laughter at the back of his throat to contain a rise of hysteria. Pushing against the ground, he sat.
“Gowtham? Are you... okay?”
He could not lie to her again. He closed his eyes. “No, I am not. But, I will survive.”
“Why?” Hesitantly, she cupped his cheek and he pressed against her palm. The simple contact was a balm to the churning of his mind, the pounding of his heart. He choked back another rise of laughter. She asked why he had followed them? She knew, she had seen their soulfire as well as he. Yet, she needed the words. In all honesty, so did he.
“I love you.”
The thick air muffled the sounds of the others shuffling away. Breanna’s hand trembled and he lifted his hand to cover hers. Even though her crystal blue eyes now shone a light gray, the sparkle of tears hovered on darker lashes. “Why now? Oh, Gowtham, why now? I know. I’ve always known. And you know how much I love you. You should have waited, told me when we get home. Not put yourself through...” She waved her hand vaguely indicating their surroundings. “Through this.”
“No, I could not. You do not have the journal. You do not know all you need to understand. Perhaps all you need to do to come home safely. I could not leave you here. I could not allow this place to take you from me.” He touched his forehead. “You need what I hold here. No fear, no... place, could keep me from providing...”
She’d leaned back, her smile growing and he paused, wondering at her reaction.
“You finally said you love me.”
Gowthaman stared to one sid
e, the rocky terrain undulating into the distance until it faded into a gray haze. He was unable to determine a horizon. “Yes,” he said simply.
“This is gonna sound like some movie line, but you picked a fine time.”
“I know.” He risked a glance at her then was unable to turn away. Joy radiated from her, even in the drab surroundings, she sparkled. For him. Humbled, he lowered his gaze.
“Look at me, Gowtham.”
Slowly, he lifted his head.
“Do you regret your words?” Her expression had grown sad. He could not bear the loss of her joy.
“I do not. I love you, Breanna.” Lifting both hands, he invited her into his embrace. She accepted his touch, accepted him. He did not understand how, or why, but she did. Perhaps questioning was no longer necessary.
They held each other and he drew strength from her acceptance, from the soft assurances muttered close to his ear and from the power of his own love for the glorious woman she was.
He opened his eyes, meaning to draw back slightly before kissing her. Not far distant, clambering over a towering cairn of boulders, a figure rushed toward them.
The abrupt stiffness in Gowtham’s body alerted Bree to danger at the same moment Chance said, “Sis, someone’s coming.”
The harsh whisper jerked her into action and she drew her sword as she rose and turned. Gowthaman scrambled to his feet and she moved slightly in front of him. Her gentle love had no weapon, but no foe would ever reach him as long as she lived. Chance moved in, shoulder to shoulder to indicate his readiness, then took a step sideways to give her room. She’d trained him well. Coralie eased next to Gowthaman, a long dagger held comfortably in her hand.
“Chance, watch behind us.”
“No worries.” He angled to easily shift his focus in either direction. Gowthaman moved parallel to Chance, watching their other flank. Satisfied with their reactions, Bree focused on the advancing man.
Once past the rocks, the intruder slowed and his shoulders drooped. He eased his arms from his sides, palms facing them, showing he held no weapons. He paced steadily forward, his expression hidden by a shock of hair falling over his face.
“Oh,” Coralie gasped and shoved past Bree then paused, leaning forward on her toes. Both Bree and Chance reached for her, but she shook them off, dropped her dagger and shot forward.
Skirt snapping behind her, she ran, leaping into the man’s arms. They twirled in a circle until he lowered her, held her face between his hands and kissed her.
“Must be Morghan,” Chance stated dryly.
Morghan tore his lips from hers and stared into the brilliant depths of Coralie’s eyes. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and gave her a slight shake. “Ye should no’ have come here.”
Silent, she smiled at him and tilted her head. Ah how he’d loved that angle, that perfectly kissable position. Unable to resist, he bent again to kiss her, dancing his tongue along the softness of her inner lip, losing himself in the sensual memory. This could not be one of the visions of his madness. She was too real, too warm, too much his sweet Coralie.
“Eudail,” he groaned when he could put any distance between them.
“Morghan,” she sighed and nestled against him, her cheek resting over the pounding of his heart. “Really ’tis ye, at last.”
“Ye should no’ be here.”
She smiled up at him. “An’ where then should I be?”
“Safe. As ye were. Safe.”
Her smile broadened. “An’ safe I shall be, with ye when we return home.”
How could he tell her he could not return? Not with the elemental’s continued threats. Now that he was himself again, he would no’ let Brandr Ur pass the veil into any other world. In doing so, he knew he would be destroyed as well. But death was a better fate for him than failure. After all this time, he could no’ tell Coralie such things.
“How long?”
Coralie drew her lower lip between her teeth and watched him a moment. Did she see the madness lingering in him?
“A bit over twenty human years.”
“Ah. I could no’ tell the passage of time once the elemental destroyed the water an’ I could no’ longer talk to ye.”
She nodded. “I ken. Has been longer than long for me. An’ I could no longer wait. ’Twill be longer still afore another opportunity rises with the full moons. So we came for ye now.”
Morghan’s heart lurched. Not only was she here, but others as well. Must his failings always include innocents?
“I could no’ be here without them, so have no concerns for them. They will help us open the veil in two nights an’ we shall all go home.”
He’d witnessed the protectiveness of these others when they gathered before Coralie, then attempted to keep her from running to him. Mayhap there was a chance. He strained to see through the haze distorting the short distance. “I do no’ recognized these warriors.”
“Nay, an’ ye would no’. The young man was no’ even born when ye... came here. The woman is his sister, an’ the leader of warriors called Alastriona.”
“The name is no’ familiar.”
“An’ now, do I ken somethin’ that ye do no’?” She chuckled and Morghan gave in to his need and drew her close for a breath-stealing kiss. When he released her, she trailed her tongue across the fullness of her lower lip but stepped back before he could catch her to him again. “There will be time for us later, milord.”
He lifted one eyebrow and her cheeks blushed a deeper gray. At that moment, he hated this world between worlds with a ferocity that startled him. All because he ached to see the pink rising in her cheeks, and the sparkle in her sea-green eyes.
She took his hand. “Remember how Lucidea understood the concept of parallel worlds?”
How could he have forgotten Lucidea? “How fares m’ niece? Our people?”
Coralie nodded to herself, as if satisfied with something he’d said. Then she answered, “Lucidea is well. Her mate would no’ allow her to join us in yer rescue because she carries a child within her.”
“A child? Happy and blessed is the Sindhu who—”
She laughed, the sound seeming to lighten the gray around him. “Oh, ’tis no Sindhu who caught her love. An’ afore ye say anythin’, no human either. But one of another race, of another world parallel to the humans. A world they call Faerie.”
He cast her a skeptical look.
“An’ milord Jayse is ruler of his folk as Lucidea is of ours. An’ half human as well. The three ye see there are of his race.”
“I do no’—”
Coralie tugged on his hand to lead him toward the trio closely watching him. “Come, Morghan. I shall introduce ye. Two nights lie afore us, then we will be able to open the veil an’ go home. There shall be time enough for tales until then.”
He remained solidly planted so she turned back and caressed his face. “Come now, my love, Air mo shon.”
For my sake. Words, spoken in a loving whisper, he could not refuse. Hand in hand, they crossed the plain then stood before the others. The two blondes grinned at him, but the darker man’s expression was contained and neutral. Morghan recognized something in the man’s eyes, a reflection of himself, of thoughts he didn’t wish to examine. The man’s expression altered and a flash of surprise settled into acknowledgement.
Coralie released his hand. Emptiness returned to bind his soul. Then she touched his arm and life flooded through him. He’d been so dead here. And now he was alive, all because of his treasure, his Coralie. He smiled at her then turned his smile on the others.
Coralie inched closer as though she couldn’t resist touching him. Good, for he never wanted her to stop. Never again would he let her go.
“If ye have no’ guessed, this is Morghan.”
Back pressed against a smooth, tall boulder, Gowthaman watched Chance start a small fire of gray wood. The tiny flame rose, trailing a thin wisp of smoke. Intellectually, he knew the world between worlds stole the colors from life, but he
was still startled by a flame snapping and crackling the dry wood in shades of gray. He chuckled and Bree turned worried eyes on him.
He indicated their location with a wave of his arm. “Do you remember the comedy you encouraged me to watch, about the legend of a doctor creating a man from parts of others?”
Her brows drew together. “Yes?”
He touched his chest then held his hand out and waggled his fingers. “Do we do not look the same as the actors in that movie?”
Chance elbowed Breanna. “Hey, that’s cool, Gowthaman. We can just pretend we’re in an old black and white movie. And you were worried about him.” The young man moved away to rummage through his pack.
Bold words Gowthaman didn’t believe. His observation had not been made to make their surroundings more acceptable, though if that were a benefit of his words, then so be it. But he had not spoken to ease the others. He had spoken the outrageous thoughts to keep from sinking into the depths of his frozen mind.
Breanna continued to watch him with cautious concern. He wanted to smile, to reassure her, but from the tightening of her expression realized he’d failed. What grimace had he given her, how much had he been unable to conceal?
Looking down at his hands, he forced himself to relax the tight curl of his fingers. Even if he were successful in hiding his emotions from the others, Breanna would know. She’d always known. Perhaps... no, he shook his head... that was one of the things he loved about her. One of the many things.
The others gathered around the small fire so he rose to join them, sitting by Breanna and earning her terse smile. She leaned close to whisper, “I’m glad Morghan found us so soon. It gives Coralie more time with him.”
“She kept the depth of her feelings well hidden until recently.” He understood how difficult that could be. Although perhaps containing the outward evidence of love was simpler when the object of one’s affection was not often close. Now Coralie happily let her love shine.
A knot, a jealous tightening in his chest made him look away and focus again on his hands. He had admitted his love to Breanna, but he could not yet show that love before the others. Lost in a fresh litany of failings, he listened half-heartedly to the conversation around the fire.
Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad) Page 15
