Circle of Fire (Prophecy of the Sisters, Book 3)

by Michelle Zink

  “Gareth?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know enough about your reason for being here to give anything away, and I’ve not had the time or inclination to babble on about London. You and Dimitri are both well-spoken, and many scholars probably do come from London to study the cairns. Isn’t it possible that she simply guessed?”

  “Perhaps.” I gaze into the fire as if it holds the answer to all our questions. “It is possible, I suppose. I…” I look up, meeting Gareth’s eyes. “I simply feel that they know more than they’re letting on.”

  “I agree with Lia.” Dimitri speaks softly into the room. “It may well be nothing, but we cannot afford to take chances. We’ll have to keep a close eye on them while we’re here, and guard carefully any discovery.”

  “Would you like me to stay?” Gareth asks. “I can at least keep watch and see to your safety.”

  Dimitri meets my eyes, leaving the question to me. He knows well my desire to see to things the way Aunt Abigail would have seen to them, at least until such a time as I know enough to do them differently.

  Yet, I am tempted. Since Sonia’s betrayal, the people whom I trust have dwindled to an alarmingly small number.

  But Aunt Abigail did not wish Gareth to be told. When she assigned him as one of our guides to Chartres, she entrusted him with only a small piece of the journey, just as she did with the other guides. It is impossible to believe that I, with my small experience and knowledge, would know better than she.

  I smile at Gareth, reaching out for his hand. He looks at my outstretched arm in surprise, looking to Dimitri as if for permission. When Dimitri gives him a small nod, Gareth takes my hand in his.

  “Dear Gareth, if there were anyone with whom I could share my secrets, it would be you. It’s for your safety and my own that I must decline. But I heartily wish it were not so.”

  He nods. “I’m always at your service, my Lady.” Squeezing my hand, he grins before I can reply. “And you needn’t bother to remind me that you have not yet accepted the appointment. The people of Altus, your people, need you. No true Lady can turn away from the call of her people, and there is no truer Lady than you.”

  I swallow against the emotion that fills my throat, but Gareth stands, saving me the embarrassment of trying to speak around it. “I’ll leave you to rest. Good night.”

  “Good night, Brother.” There is both respect and affection in Dimitri’s voice as Gareth makes his way from the room.

  Dimitri and I sit in the silence left by Gareth’s departure, the crackling and shifting of the logs in the firebox the only sounds in the room. When I look over, Dimitri is watching me, his eyes dark and inscrutable. Leaning back on his arms, his white shirt stretches taut across his chest, the undone tie at the collar revealing a smooth stretch of skin. If I were to undo the remaining laces, I could push the shirt from his shoulders and kiss his chest, his stomach.

  “Why do you look at me so?” I am caught in the tide of his eyes, unable to deny the desire in my voice.

  The passion in his gaze is a reflection of my own. “Can I not look at you for the simple pleasure of doing so, my Lady?”

  I look away. “Don’t call me that, Dimitri. Not here. Not now. I don’t wish to be Lady of Altus. Not yet.”

  He pats the carpet next to him. “Come.” His voice is thick with longing.

  I go to him, crossing the few feet that lie between us and dropping next to him on the floor.

  “Closer.” He speaks the word so softly I almost cannot hear him.

  Moving toward him, I stop when my face is a few inches from his.

  “Closer still,” he says.

  I smile and move closer until our lips are but an inch apart. “Here?”

  His own smile is sly and dark. “That will do.” He reaches for me, lifting my face just a little to meet his. “Even when the time comes for you to reign, you will never simply be Lady of Altus. Not to me.”

  He lowers his mouth to mine, his lips soft in the moment before they slide to the sensitive skin of my neck. My head tilts back and I fight to keep a moan from escaping my mouth.

  “What, then?” I whisper. “What will I be?”

  He speaks against my skin. “That is a simple question. You will be my love. My heart.” His lips continue their journey, making their way to the soft spot at the center of my collarbone. “However strong you must be when you face the world, with me you may lay yourself bare and come to no harm.”

  My body is afire, lit from within by the spark of his mouth and the soft words spoken in a whisper. Sliding down so that I am lying half on top of him and half on the carpet, I push him back against the floor. My hair is a dark curtain around us, the firelight only barely visible through the shimmering strands.

  “I think I would like to lay myself bare before you, Dimitri Markov.” This time it is my mouth on his, and I linger there, feeling his lips move against mine.

  When I pull away, he touches a finger to my kiss-swollen mouth. “I can wait, Lia. I’ll never stop waiting.”

  17

  I sleep poorly, haunted by strangely contrasting dreams. One moment I am back within the fire-lit circle, the mark on my wrist burning and burning. The next I am in Dimitri’s arms, my skin bare and warm against his. By the time I emerge from my room the next morning, I am grateful for the lack of a looking glass in my guest chamber. I am certain I would not like the reflection gazing back at me.

  I hear the murmur of voices below and follow them down the simple staircase to the main hall, reassured by the weight of Mother’s dagger in the drawstring bag swinging from my wrist. Paranoia may have led me to bring it, but I would rather have it and not need it than the other way around.

  Making my way toward the back of the house and the parlor I remember from our arrival, I am surprised to see only Dimitri, his head bent to a book. The chair in which he sits is dwarfed by his sturdy frame, and I feel a flash of desire as I remember being locked in his strong arms only hours ago.

  “Good morning,” I say softly in an effort not to startle him.

  He looks up, his eyes alert. “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”

  The endearment is new, and a rush of pleasure courses through my body as, all at once, I realize that I am his love. And he is mine.

  I cross the room toward him, stepping into his arms as he stands. “No. Sleep is not my friend these days, I’m afraid.”

  He tips my chin up, studying my face as carefully as if it were the book he was reading. “Ah, yes,” he says, nodding. “I should have looked before I asked. It’s plain to see that you have not had a restful night.”

  I give him a gentle shove. “Why, thank you! Am I supposed to be flattered by such an observation?”

  He kisses the tip of my nose. “It isn’t meant as an insult. You’re lovely to me at any time of the day or night, in any condition. I worry about you, that’s all. You’re looking gaunt and tired, and we still have much work ahead.”

  I smile, touched by his concern. “It’s nothing some fresh air and a good meal won’t cure.” I step away, looking toward the hall. “Where is everyone?”

  “Mr. O’Leary and his daughter are seeing to household matters.” Dimitri hesitates, rubbing the stubble at his chin. “I’m afraid Gareth has gone.”

  “Gone?” I shake my head. “Whatever do you mean?”

  He leans toward the tea table, picking up a folded piece of parchment. “He doesn’t like goodbyes, he said. He departed early this morning, and he left this for you.”

  He hands me the parchment and I turn to the fire, unfolding the thick paper and adjusting my eyes to the slanting script.

  My Dear Lady,

  I am sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but I’ve never liked them, least of all now. I wish you could entrust me with your task, for it is obvious that it weighs heavily on your heart. Please know that if, at any time in the future, you need assistance or simply a trusted friend, I am at your service and pledge my devotion.

  Regar
dless of the path you choose, you will always be the rightful Lady of Altus to me.

  Your faithful servant,

  Gareth

  I fold the parchment slowly, feeling the loss of Gareth as an unpleasant surprise though I knew he was leaving today. So many of the losses I have suffered have been sudden, forced upon me with no time to say the many things I wished to say.

  I suppose I wanted, just this once, to say goodbye.

  “I’m sure he meant only to spare you both sadness.” Dimitri’s voice comes from behind me. “It’s clear you’ve come to mean a great deal to him.”

  “And he to me.” I speak the words softly into the fire, taking a deep breath before turning to face Dimitri. “Shall we take breakfast in the dining room and begin our day, then? I’m sure we have much to do.”

  “Breakfast is certainly in order.” He smiles, reaching for my hand. “But not in the dining room. Come. I have a surprise.”

  The fields lay magnificently before us as we gallop across the countryside, the hills rolling this way and that in every direction. The sky is unusually blue, and as I look up, marveling at its clarity, I feel the world tilt until I think I will drown in the sea of it.

  The cairns watch us from a distance, the strange hills and rocky outcroppings dotting the lush plain. We drive the horses toward them, and with every step I feel the same strange familiarity I felt at Chartres. By the time we stop at the base of the largest cavern, my nerves are humming with awareness. I feel myself bonded to this stark landscape and its underground caves, but it fills my heart with a melancholy I cannot explain.

  Dismounting from Sargent, I scan the outcropping and surrounding fields before turning to Dimitri with a smile. “While this is a lovely surprise, I hardly think you can take credit for the cairns. They have, after all, been here for centuries.”

  He pulls a bundle from his saddlebag and makes his way to a spot in the sun, very near the sloping, grassy wall of the hill that houses one of the caverns.

  “You’ve grown comical, Lia.” He nods his approval. “I quite like it. But the cairns are not your surprise, silly girl.”

  I hold out an arm in a sweeping motion to take in the landscape around us. “Well, this will be difficult to top, but I’m certainly willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  He shakes out a bundle of cloth and I see that it is a woolen blanket, crisscrossed with beige and green plaid. “Now I’m afraid to tell you what it is because you’re right—it will pale in comparison to so lovely a morning in so lovely a place.”

  I make my way to him, rising on tiptoe to place a kiss on his lips. “Nonsense. You’ve brought me all this way. And without breakfast! I demand my surprise.”

  He sighs in mock weariness. “Very well, then. I’ll do my best to meet your expectations.”

  Reaching into a sheepskin bag, he begins removing parcels wrapped in cloth. A moment later I join him on the blanket as he unwraps boiled eggs, fresh bread, cheese, apples, and a small earthen pot of honey.

  He surveys the arrangement of food, moving the pot of honey a little to the left and the eggs a bit to the right before speaking. “Now, let us eat.”

  I drop next to him on the blanket, taking his face in my hands. I touch my lips to his before speaking. “It’s marvelous, Dimitri. Really.” I look into his eyes. “Thank you.”

  He returns my gaze before rising to a sitting position and reaching for the bread. “I wasn’t eager to repeat last night’s dinner debacle—especially on our first morning at the cairns.”

  I sigh, taking a piece of the bread he hands me and reaching for the honey pot. “A very wise decision indeed.” Drizzling honey over the bread, I replace the lid on the pot and take a bite. It is unlike any bread I have tasted, dry and crumbly and full of butter. “So. Where shall we start?”

  “I think we should spend the day getting the lay of the land. It’s difficult to get a sense of the place with only the map on parchment.”

  I nod, reaching for the cheese. “Yes, and it would help if we could discover the significance of any one of the caverns. If the Stone is here, it would likely be hidden someplace important, would it not? As with the final page at Chartres?”

  “That would be my guess, though I haven’t found anything specific in the little research I was able to do before we left. I even asked Victor, but he sent word that this site, like many in England and Ireland, has been left to deteriorate for some time.” He takes a bite of one of the apples. “It seems no one in recent history has made meaningful study of it.”

  I sigh, attempting to stifle the frustration that is already rising within me. It is far too soon for that. “Well, then, if there is no easy answer, I suppose we should begin.”

  Dimitri nods, jumping to his feet. “Quite right.”

  We wrap our rubbish and place it back inside Dimitri’s saddlebag before mounting the horses. The site is large, and it takes us the morning and some of the afternoon to cover it. We do not enter any of the cairns. Not yet. This is simply a day to get our bearings, and we spend it riding the fields. We stop from time to time, and I recite for Dimitri the basic physical structure of the hills and caverns so that he can make note of it for later. We cannot be sure their outward appearance is important, but anything that might set one cavern apart from another might be helpful.

  By the time we head back to the house, the light has grown blue-gray with the setting sun. Although we have not made any discoveries this day, we have taken the first, important step to locating the Stone.

  And it is here somewhere. I can feel it.

  18

  That night we are prodded with questions throughout another dinner with Mr. O’Leary and Brigid. I finger the hilt of my dagger through the fabric of my bag as they repeatedly ask about the cairns. This, despite Dimitri’s early assertion that we did nothing but scout atop horseback. It is only after dessert that Mr. O’Leary seems to accept the explanation of our day, and I cannot tell if I see relief or disappointment in his eyes.

  I am anxious to leave the table and am relieved when enough time has passed that Dimitri and I can bid the O’Learys good night without seeming rude. We ascend the stairs together, stopping in the doorway to my chamber for a hurried but passionate good-night kiss before Dimitri heads to his room down the hall.

  It is a relief to pull off my breeches and shirt. They are more comfortable than gowns and petticoats, but it is still heavenly to feel the slide of my nightdress over my bare skin.

  Slipping into bed, I pull the wool blankets all the way to my chin, grateful for the fire in the firebox. I wonder if it is Brigid’s doing, for I have seen no household help other than the woman who comes to cook supper. I do not bother to check the adder stone. I have given up the habit of testing its heat these past days. It has become too difficult to deny its waning strength. Instead, I allow myself a moment of denial and slip into the abyss of sleep.

  I am certain that I am inside one of the caverns at Loughcrew, though there is nothing to mark it as one of the cairns. I know it in the inexplicable way one knows things in dreams.

  At first I am alone, making my way through the cool, damp interior with only the light of a torch to guide me. I am looking for something—or someone—I cannot name. It is but a shadow of thought, and I continue forward, my eyes searching the rocky walls and floors as I make my way deeper and deeper into the belly of the cave.

  I hear the whispering first. Not the strange murmuring I used to hear before waking when Alice was casting spells in the Dark Room, but the simple whisper of conversation. It grows louder with each step I take, and as I round a corner of the cavern, I see them.

  The girls walk side by side, holding hands. They are nearly identical, even from behind. One of them is at once familiar to me.

  I see in a flash the little girl in New York, handing me the medallion for the very first time.

  I see her on the path just outside Birchwood, handing it to me yet again, soaking wet, only moments after I threw it into th
e river.

  Finally, I see her in a dream, her angelic face morphing into Alice’s just before I left for Altus.

  I have come to view the child as my dream Alice, despite the golden hair that stands in contrast to my sister’s real chestnut waves.

  The girl on the right is exactly the same size, but her hair falls in auburn curls. She turns to look at me, her eyes meeting mine. Even by the faint light of the torch I can see that they are as green as my own. Aside from her brown hair, she is physically identical to the little girl who has played such an important part in my darkest moments with the prophecy. Yet this girl’s face is somehow softer and more innocent.

  “Will you come with us? Please?” Her voice trembles, fear evident on her small, delicately featured face.

  I nod, though my own heart beats faster. I know that the other girl is the child from my nightmares, and I do not relish the thought of following her farther into the cave.

  A second later she turns, her smile full of secrets. “Yes, come with us, Lia. I’ll show you both.” Her voice has the uncanny lilt that I remember—a child’s voice, almost falsely naive.

  I do not have time to ask to what she is referring, for she turns away once again, pulling the other girl by the hand. I follow them, feeling the air grow damper still as a metallic scent drifts on a humid breeze from up ahead.

  “We’re almost there.” The child Alice speaks without stopping or turning around.

  The other girl, pulled hurriedly along, cranes her neck to look at me. The terror in her eyes causes my heart to drop like a stone. She stumbles, turning forward to right herself. She takes a few more steps before stopping suddenly, and I understand when I hear the faint sound of water up ahead. It is a combination of drips, all falling in quick succession against the stone of the cavern.

  Little-girl Alice does not stop walking. She only pulls harder on the other girl’s hand. “Come, now, don’t be afraid. It’s only water.”