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Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad)

Page 19

by *lizzie starr


  “You were young. And undoubtedly more concerned with the punishment promised for your unthinking actions than with the words of yet another distraught adult.”

  “I do remember that being one of the few times I was ever seriously grounded. I had to serve out my entire sentence. I didn’t think that was fair.” She gave a dry chuckle. “I was pretty good at weaseling my way out of pranks and mischief, wasn’t I?”

  “You were.” He took both of her hands and clasped them between his. “On that day, when none could find you, the minutes seemed as hours, the hours a lifetime. On that day, I believe I knew, I understood. On that day, I named you my soul. And for the second time, witnessed the glow of your magical aura.”

  “The second time?”

  He stroked his thumb over her wrist. “The first incident was when you healed me upon my return from... this place. Palest pink and faint enough I was able to excuse the observation away as a remnant of my ordeal. I would not believe I could see the presence of magic within you. The manifestation of an aura does not normally appear in one so young.”

  “Pink? But in the library, I saw red... and gold.”

  “And you are older now, a woman of passion, no longer an innocent child.”

  Her face burned. And no longer an innocent woman either. She stared at their joined hands. “Could that have been soulfire?”

  In the silence that followed, she knew he was thinking, so peeked at him from under her lashes. His eyebrows were drawn low over his closed eyes and she imagined the tireless working of his mind. A moment later his brows lifted and he looked at her.

  “I do not believe so. Such would be unprecedented in a child. As it was, the evidence of your aura, and Chance’s before Fiedhlim was destroyed, are extremely rare. Even though soulfire, and the color or colors produced are influenced by one’s magic... ah, Breanna. Now is not the time for learned discussions. Know that in my heart, in my wounded soul, even then I knew, but dared not acknowledge, how important you would become to me. Do not doubt me, or my love, Breanna. For you are my soul.”

  There were no words adequate to respond to his declaration. Simply saying ‘I love you’ didn’t seem enough. He watched her, newly released emotions flitting through his eyes. She wiggled the fingers of one hand until he released her then cupped her palm to his cheek.

  “Gowthaman, I loved you even before I understood what love was. You are my soul.” Guiding him nearer with her fingertips, she met his lips softly at first then with firmer, demanding pressure. Want and need rose from low in her body, swirling to settle in the places he’d loved not that long ago. Hoping his kiss would always affect her so powerfully, she sighed into his mouth.

  A throat clearing registered through the slow, sensuous assault of Gowthaman’s kiss. She moaned a denial when he dropped three feather-light kisses against her lower lip then drew away. He angled his head to look over her shoulder. “Yes, Chance?”

  Bree blew out a frustrated breath. Leave it to her baby brother to ruin a mood. She swiveled to face his cocky, unrepentant grin.

  “Hey, Sis.”

  Standing loose-limbed, one sword unsheathed in his hand, the second strapped to his back, he looked every inch the self-assured warrior. Except for a brief glimpse of uncertainty in his eyes. Bree frowned, shook off Gowthaman’s restraining hand and rose to face her brother. “What are you doing?”

  “Going on a bit of a walk-about.”

  “You need to rest.”

  “What? Are you my mother now? All I’ve done the last five or six hours is sit around. Although...” His grin returned. “There were some mighty interesting things going on from time to time.”

  Nothing felt amiss, but she had been distracted. First by her post-healing trauma, then—she released a satisfied breath—then by Gowthaman. But if Chance had noticed anything out of the ordinary, maybe she should reconnoiter with him.

  Chance sheathed the sword and leaned the upper half of his body toward her in a conspiratory manner. “You know, the Sindhu must have something like soulfire.”

  Not what she expected, so his low whisper threw her mind into a confused tangle. “Soulfire?”

  “Sure. Every once in a while last night, there was this burst of tiny lights, like stars, over where Coralie and Morghan were. In this gray place, I can’t say if there’s any color like our soulfire, but the stars are certainly indicative of something.”

  “Aye, ’tis magic.”

  At the rumble of Morghan’s voice, Bree grabbed Chance’s forearm and jerked them both to face the tall Sindhu.

  Morghan crouched to add water to the battered pot and set it near the fire. Coralie stepped from behind the rocks and when she touched his shoulder, he covered her hand with his. “Aye, magic that comes only from the lovin’ of the one who is yers alone.”

  Gowthaman tossed him the packet of instant coffee. “Very much like our Faerie soulfire. Although soulfire manifests as color.”

  “Boy, does it.” Chance chuckled and gave Bree a soft punch in the shoulder. “Deep crimson-red swirling with gold.”

  Bree turned to stare at Gowthaman. He met her look with silent questions of his own. Both turned to Chance, although with her face burning hot, Bree avoided meeting her brother’s teasing gaze.

  “Yep, quite spectacular.”

  “How... how do you know?”

  “I told you, I was keeping watch last night. But there wasn’t anything to watch...” He waved one hand toward Morghan and Coralie. “...except stars and soulfire. Couple of times, it was like stereo, like watching two fourth of July displays at the same time.”

  She started twice before finally managing, “But the colors?”

  “Saw them, bright and glowing against... the... gray. Whoa, Sis. I didn’t think about that. I shouldn’t have been able to see the color of your soulfire here, should I?” He spun in a circle and spread his hands looking up into the sky. “Whoa, this is so cool.”

  “Chance...”

  He lowered his hands and his gaze. A proud smile made him look even younger. “You did it. You and Gowthaman. No,” he said when she frowned and took a breath. “Okay, so I mean that too, but look, you two brought color to a place where there isn’t any. That’s got to be significant. I mean, really important, don’t you think? So... while you guys think about it and talk it to death, I’m going to look around.”

  He lifted one hand and shook his head. “Nope, don’t say anything. I mapped out the area for myself during my watch last night. I can find my way around. I’ll be back...” With one toe he drew a line a short distance from a tall rock then indicated the faint shadow sprouting from the base. “I’ll be back by the time the shadow reaches that line.”

  After touching one finger to his lips, then giving her a mock salute, he turned and sauntered away.

  Twenty-two

  Bright dawn glinted through the kitchen window. Nightshade rubbed his eyes then shoved the empty cereal box to one side. After a long, but productive night, he had a few ideas he needed to run past the others. The manor was silent in the early dawn so he assumed he’d have a bit longer before anyone joined him for breakfast.

  Breakfast. He grimaced at the cereal box. He needed protein. The refrigerator yielded ham and eggs but a common meal wasn’t what he was after. In the pantry he found an unsliced loaf of bread and inspiration.

  An hour later, with a French toast casserole baking and thick ham steaks waiting for the grill, he tapped a pen against one of the yellow legal pads Coralie loved so much.

  Two readings of Gowthaman’s journal finally brought some cohesion to the scattered entries and theories. Pieces had fallen together like a puzzle; unfortunately, somewhere along the line, the box had been shaken and a number of key pieces were missing. Turning to a page marked by a thin strip of yellow paper, he scanned Gowthaman’s words, halting at a strange notation in the bottom margin.

  Ring a ring o’ rosies.

  Why had the librarian made note of a children’s rhyme. A game?
r />   A quick flip of pages brought him to another yellow strip. The prophecy that years ago had led to the destruction of an evil Faerie who had long haunted the Zeroun clan.

  At first reading he’d assumed Gowthaman had included the two verses because of the reference to the children of light and darkness—Breanna and Chance.

  “Hey, Nightshade, you’re up early. What is that wonderful aroma?”

  “Morning, honey. The ladies up yet?”

  Jayse ambled to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug. “Lucidea’s still sleeping, but Tori’s already been out for a swim, so she should be here shortly. You’ve been cooking?”

  “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

  “Since when are you mister nutrition?” Jayse sank onto the chair across from Nightshade and shook his head. “Eh, I’m sorry, Shade. Don’t mean to be grumpy. I don’t think any of us slept well. Won’t until everyone’s back safely.”

  Nightshade grunted a response, rose and peeked at his casserole. “I was up all night with Gowthaman’s journal.”

  “Any insights?”

  He paused, then shook his head and turned on the flames under the indoor grill. “Almost. Right now I’ve got more questions than possibilities. Set the table, Jayse. We’ll get the discussion going over breakfast.”

  The men worked in silence, acknowledging Lucidea and Tori’s entrances with nods. Once his grand breakfast filled the table, Nightshade had settled on a theory—as long as the others could help him connect a few dots.

  Jabbing his fork toward Nightshade, Jayse turned to Lucidea. “Do you know what he did?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Ate my new box of cereal.”

  Lucidea patted his cheek. “Poor baby.”

  Nightshade patted his other cheek. “Honey, the sugar helped me think.” No longer hungry, he pushed his plate aside. “Now, we already know most of the information in here, but there’s a few entries in Gowthaman’s journal that caught my eye. And although they don’t appear related, I have a feeling...”

  He paused to take a deep breath. “We’ll worry about feelings later. Any clue why Gowthaman would make a notation about a child’s game?”

  Blank looks met his question.

  “Or what about the prophecy?”

  “What prophecy?”

  Drawing back in surprise, Nightshade blinked at Jayse. “What prophecy? Honey, have you forgotten your past so soon? The verses that helped defeat Feidlhim.”

  Shaking his head while he chewed, Jayse held up one hand to silence Nightshade. He swallowed. “No, I haven’t forgotten, but it’s the past. What’s an ancient verse got to do with today?”

  “That’s the question now, isn’t it?”

  Contemplative silence followed. Tori waggled her fingers toward his notes and he shoved the pad across the table to her. She ran a finger lightly over the page, tapping twice at a couple of entries. “How many times do you think Gowthaman made reference to three?”

  Lucidea said, “A lot. You know what I want?”

  “No darlin’, what?” Jayse rested his arm on the back of her chair.

  “Kumquats.”

  “Cravings?” Jayse leaned closer to kiss her cheek.

  “No. I don’t know. Maybe.” She chuckled. “Kumquats just sound good.”

  Nightshade gave a dramatic wave toward them. “Don’t mean to break up this moment, but—”

  “We’ve got way too many things to figure out,” Jayse agreed. “So, what are you thinking about the prophecy?”

  “When looking at it like from the standpoint of a normal day, I would assume it’s been fulfilled and all’s right with the world. But that doesn’t feel right. And Nightshade learned long ago to trust his feelings.”

  “So, what does it feel like at this point in time?” Jayse prompted.

  “Now... I believe that the prophecy as it reads now has been fulfilled.”

  “But didn’t you just say—”

  With a single, sharp nod, Nightshade agreed then went on to explain. “The whole situation feels incomplete. As though there’s a part of the prophecy missing. As well as part of the solution to our situation.”

  Lucidea gave a startled exclamation and scooted her chair back with the squeal of wood against stone.

  Panic claimed Jayse’s expression. Matching trepidation clawed into Nightshade’s chest. He rose as Jayse reached for his wife.

  “Darlin’, what is it? The baby?”

  Tori swung her arm to the side and halted Nightshade’s progress around the table. He glared down at her and she shook her head. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  Lucidea batted at Jayse’s hands as he tried to press his palm against her forehead, hold her hand and cover her belly protectively at the same time. “Stop it. I’m fine. Baby’s fine. I just... just remembered something.”

  Jayse continued to fuss, until Lucidea grabbed his shoulders and shook until he lifted his hands in surrender. “Now, unless you’re on your way to find me some kumquats, sit down and listen.” She gave Tori a long-suffering wife look then sighed. “I am okay, Nightshade. You sit down, too. I can’t stand all this hovering. If I want anybody hovering, you three will be the first to know. Now, what I was going to say is that I just remembered a passage in one of Coralie’s books. She showed it to me not that long ago. I didn’t think much about it then, but since you mentioned that old prophecy...”

  “Do you remember which book?” Tori asked. “My sister has a few, you know.”

  Nodding, Lucidea caught her lower lip between her teeth and thought a moment. “I remember it was very old, bound with sea-turtle leather, then wrapped in sealskin. She took it to the palace at Gowthaman’s suggestion since the air here was causing the pages to deteriorate.”

  “That doesn’t help much now, honey.”

  Tori grinned. “I’d love another quick swim. I’ve been getting to know Na-h-Ulie and a trip to the palace would give me a chance to interact with her again.”

  “Great. I’ll write out official ‘orders’.” Lucidea glanced at Nightshade. “But, I don’t really want to bring the book here. Coralie would kill me if something happened to it.”

  Giving her a negligent shrug, he brushed at imaginary lint on his sleeve. “If a copy could be made of the pages you remember, that should be good enough for now. With the caveat that if we need further information, the book may have to rise to the surface anyway.”

  “Agreed. It shouldn’t take too long. What I’m remembering is only a page or two.” She reached for the legal pad, turned to a clean sheet and wrote quickly. Then she handed the folded page to Tori. “The pages I’m thinking of are near the front of the book. No more than a quarter of the way in.” She closed her eyes. “One page had a poem, or a verse of some kind.” She opened one eye and tilted her head toward Nightshade. “Like the prophecy.” Closing both eyes again, she took a deep breath. “The facing page had...”

  Waiting silence hovered around the table.

  “What?” Jayse asked, taking her hand.

  She turned to look at him. “You’re not going to believe this. A diagram. With three... somethings... a thick bar with a different something on the other side. There may have been more to the drawing, it’s been awhile.”

  “That should be easy enough to find. I’ll be back in a flash.”

  Nightshade stared after Tori, peering down the empty hall until he heard the soft splash of her dive into the loch.

  Then he focused on Lucidea. She cast her gaze at the ceiling.

  “Before you ask,” she said, “I didn’t think of this before because nobody mentioned any kind of prophecy. It’s not even a part the information Gowthaman talked to us about, so why would I even think of it?”

  “Don’t get your dander up, honey. Even I don’t understand where all this will lead. Yet. Until Tori gets back...” He yawned. “I’ll be trying to find a bit of that beauty sleep I lost last night.”

  “We’ll call you.”

  Ni
ghtshade rose and waved over one shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll know.”

  He smiled, then chuckled softly at Lucidea’s next words. “And you, Jaysson Allan Zeroun, go find me some kumquats.”

  Obsessed with plans of ruling and revenge, Brandr Ur paid little heed to the shift in air currents. It mattered not if an unwelcome creature entered his current domain. Not much longer and this place would not even be a memory, for he had the future to look to. The air shivered. A scent flowed from beyond his temple. The stick in his hand stilled and he smiled.

  Ah, the young one came to him. Delightful. And so easy. He didn’t look up when the boy stood before him.

  “Elemental.”

  Such bravado from one so young. He inhaled, testing the boy’s scent. “Human.”

  Taking another sensing breath, Brandr Ur stared at the marks and doodles he’d incised into the dirt. The young one was not totally human, but he didn’t recognize the source of the magic.

  His smile returned. The make-up of the young almost human made no difference. He would be used—as long as that use served Brandr Ur’s purpose. He lifted his gaze.

  “So. Young human. You have chosen to invade my territory. I would know why.”

  One hand tightened around the hilt of the sword at his side. The grip of a second blade extended over his shoulder. Brandr Ur let his grin widen. The young fool thought mere steel weapons would defeat him. Ha. Such bits of metal wouldn’t even slow his march through the human and Alfar worlds. But, in the hands of such a warrior the weaponry might be useful.

  “So, human, what is it you wish?”

  A growl sounded from low in the boy’s throat. “Stay out of my head.”

  Brandr Ur leaned back on one elbow. “No.” ::This pleases me.:: Sending the connection deeper before the boy could raise additional defenses, Brandr Ur searched rapidly for the source of the odd scent. His effort was little more than a thought, but the boy broke a sweat and his face contorted with strain... and agony. He pressed one palm to his temple and Brandr Ur laughed.

 

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