Nicodimus moved her aside and swiftly kicked the bedroom door in. Smoke billowed out of the room, and he held one arm before his face as he charged inside.
Numbly, Arianna realized the fire must have started in Nidaba’s room, just below this one. The crazy woman must have set her house on fire! But Raven . . . Duncan . . .
They were not in the bed, and only when Nicodimus bent to the floor did she see them lying there. They had apparently been overcome by the smoke as they made their way toward the door.
“Raven!” Arianna rushed forward, even as Nicodimus hauled Duncan up, and flung the unconscious man over his shoulder.
Arianna gripped her sister under the arms and lifted her. Thank the Gods for preternatural strength. Though slender, Raven was both taller and bigger than Arianna. If she were mortal, she’d never have been able to manage it. Even now, Arianna struggled, but she held her sister close to her, and dragged her feet over the floor, through the door into the hallway, following Nicodimus’s lead.
“Stay close,” he called, and she could hear the rawness of his voice. Her own eyes burned and watered, and her lungs seemed starved for air. Nicodimus reached the top of the stairs, but looking down, Arianna saw only a pool of fire.
“My Gods, Nidaba!” she cried, wondering if the woman had gone outside, or if she still cringed by the door allowing the fire to devour her.
“This way,” Nicodimus said, turning around. He headed back to Arianna’s bedroom, and straight through it to the window. Without hesitation, he opened the window and thrust Duncan’s upper body through. “Were you not immortal, my friend, I would not attempt this. And I fear it shall be painful, all the same.” Then with a shove, he launched Duncan into the night.
Arianna heard sirens wailing. The village’s volunteer fire department, no doubt. Another spectacle of modern life for Nicodimus to wonder at.
Her bare feet began to blister, and as she looked beneath her she saw tongues of fire licking up through the floorboards. Her sister’s weight was taken from her arms, as Nicodimus pulled Raven into his own. Carefully, he maneuvered Raven’s body through the open window, dropping her just as he had dropped Duncan.
“Come,” he rasped, gripping Arianna’s arm. “Hurry.”
The flames licked higher, and she heard the floorboards cracking beneath her blistering feet.
“Now!” he commanded, jerking her forward. She hooked one leg over the sill, gazing back at him. She held his arm. The floor wouldn’t hold long. She didn’t want to leave him. He wouldn’t make it in time.
“Nicodimus–”
He gave Arianna a mighty shove, and she sailed through the night, hitting the ground with a bone-shattering impact that rattled her teeth and sent pain searing through her body. But even as she managed to draw a pain-racked breath and stared back up, she realized he hadn’t followed. The window was a dark hole, now, and Nicodimus no longer stood there. Beyond the darkness, she could see only the dancing flames.
“Nicodimus!” Nidaba screamed.
Arianna whirled to see the woman standing nearby, staring up with anguished eyes at the spot where Nicodimus had been. Near her feet, Duncan was slowly stirring awake, as Raven shook him and spoke to him. The both of them were all right. And Nidaba, too. But Nicodimus–
“You’ve done it again, haven’t you, Arianna? You’ve killed my son all over again!”
Arianna blinked, stunned by the words, confused, but unable to devote even a moment’s thought to the crazy ramblings of a madwoman. The floor must have given way,” she muttered, calculating in her mind, where he would have landed if it had. The kitchen, he would be near the kitchen. She raced round to that side of the house while Nidaba shouted in some unknown language, after her. Curses, no doubt, Hurled in the tongue of the desert lands from whence she came. Arianna gave one brief thought to hoping the woman was too crazy to cast a decent spell, then put Nidaba from her mind and kept on running.
The town’s only fire engine came to a squeaky stop, and men piled out. But she had no time for them. Arianna found the hatch door in the ground and jerked it open, racing down into the pitch darkness of the basement, and then up its inside stairs to the door that opened into the kitchen. Smoke here, but not as much. Heat, too, but maybe . . . .
She pressed her palms flat to the door. Hot, yes, but not blistering. Bracing herself for a blast, she opened the door. A wall of fire danced before her eyes. It coated the kitchen walls like living paint, and licked out across the floor in pools. She eyed the gas powered range, thought of the propane tanks just outside, and dropped to her knees to avoid the smoke. “Nicodimus!” she cried. “Nicodimus, where are you?”
She couldn’t see. Perfect night vision was worthless when smoke burned her eyes like acid. So confusing was being in the heart of this fiery beast, that she no longer knew which way she was moving, just kept crawling along on all fours, choking out his name before drawing in more smoke-laden air.
Then she felt him. Warm, soft, his arm, yes it was his arm! She gripped it, and slid her knees backward over the floor, dragging his weight. Carefully, she moved, trying to retrace her path exactly. She moved a few feet, then she tugged, dragging his body over the floor, then moved a few more feet and tugged again, mightily, pouring all her strength into moving him. She shouldn’t be this weak. It shouldn’t be this difficult. But she knew it was the smoke, the heat. She was dizzy. She knew damn well she could die from smoke inhalation just as she could die by any other mortal cause. She’d revive again unless the fire consumed her body–and her heart with it. If that happened, she’d be truly dead. Permanently dead.
And Nicodimus with her.
Blackness threatened, but she battled it. Dragging him still farther, she called on her witchly senses to guide her to the basement door. She moved back farther, and pulled him along, and finally she ran out of floor.
It seemed to vanish from beneath her knees, and she fell, her body banging hard all the way to the bottom, her hand wrenched free of Nicodimus’s arm.
No!
She pulled herself upright when the tumbling ended, realizing she’d fallen down the very stairway she’d sought. But without Nicodimus. She gasped, inhaling in a huge amount of the relatively clean air there, and lunged back up the stairs again. Gripping both of Nicodimus’s arms, she pulled him back down the stairs with her. There she collapsed, finally unable to fight the darkness any longer. It closed in and she knew nothing for a time.
* * * *
“WHAT DID YOU mean by that?” Duncan asked Nidaba after she’d stopped screaming.
“Never mind her, Duncan, we have to find Arianna!” Raven cried, her head pressed between her palms as she searched in vain for her sister. “My Goddess, I think she’s gone back inside after Nic!”
The firefighters manned hoses now, aiming them at the flames and soaking the poor little house in an effort to save it. But Raven thought it was going to be a total loss. She didn’t care, she just wanted her sister.
“That way,” Raven screamed. “She went that way!” She started forward, only to be pulled firmly back by Duncan’s strong hands.
“Look, there,” he said, pointing to the open hatchway door. “I’ll go. Stay here. I mean it, Raven.”
She met his eyes, nodded hard, and watched in terror as he raced away. “Be careful!” she cried.
Duncan ducked into the basement, out of sight. Trembling, Raven glanced behind her, only to see Nidaba curled into a small trembling mass on the ground. She had come to hate the woman. It was unlike her to hate anyone, but Nidaba had been heartlessly cruel to Arianna ever since she’d arrived here. And Raven didn’t take kindly to anyone who mistreated her beloved sister.
But now, seeing Nidaba in this much pain, Raven was touched in spite of herself. She moved forward, bending close.
“My son, my Nic,” Nidaba was muttering, and Raven felt her own eyes widen as understanding dawned, almost blinding in its brightness.
“By the Gods,” she whispered. Was this just mo
re insane rambling from a lunatic driven beyond reason? Or could it possibly be true?
“They’ll be all right,” Raven whispered. “Duncan will get them out.”
“Don’t touch me!” Nidaba jerked violently away from Raven’s hand on her shoulder. “I hate you, I hate you all!”
Raven knelt beside her, and Nidaba lifted her head, her wet, red-rimmed eyes fixing on Raven’s, the ruby in her nose glinting the fire’s reflection.
“No, you don’t,” Raven said. “You just love Nicodimus. But we all do, too, don’t you see that?” Raven fought a sob. “The man I love is in there, too, and my sister . . .”
Then, without warning, Nidaba collapsed against Raven’s chest, shuddering with sobs that seemed too powerful to contain. Unsure how to react, Raven put her arms around the woman’s shoulders and just held her while she cried. “I cannot lose him again,” Nidaba sobbed. “I lost him twice . . . and I cannot lose him again.”
“You won’t, I promise, you won’t.”
Nidaba shivered, lifting her head, looking at Raven, and for the first time since she’d met the woman, Raven saw some fleeting kind of lucidity in her eyes.
“He died for the first time when he was but nine years old,” she whispered. I didn’t even know what I was then. He . . . was all I had.”
Raven frowned, puzzled, and gently brushed the hair away from Nidaba’s eyes. “When was this?” she asked softly.
“So long ago . . . so very long . . . millennia passed before he was reborn as an immortal High Witch. But I knew he would be I knew, for he died stepping between a soldier’s sword and his mother’s heart. He died to save my life. So did I, but I revived, and my son . . . my precious Nic, did not.”
“My God,” Raven whispered. “My God, you really are . . . you’re his mother.”
“Nicodimus!” Nidaba cried, rising to her feet and staring through rivulets of tears at the inferno. “Don’t leave me, Nicodimus, not again!”
Raven turned to gaze back at the blazing house. And then Duncan emerged, Arianna hanging limply over his shoulder. And as he came up the last steps, Raven saw that he was dragging Nic behind him.
Nidaba collapsed on the ground then, retreating, perhaps, to insanity. And for once, Raven thought she understood why. Millenia, she’d said. Gods, could anyone live that long and remain sane? She left the woman alone with her ghosts, and ran forward to help Duncan carry Nic and Arianna to safety.
“They’ll be all right,” Duncan assured her as she eased her sister’s body from his arms into hers. He bent to scoop Nicodimus up. But Duncan had taken in a lot of smoke. It coated his mouth and nose in black soot, and he moved slowly, awkwardly, choking often, pausing to catch his breath. Eventually, the two managed to carry Nicodimus and Arianna back to where Nidaba had been waiting.
Raven lowered Arianna to the ground, and Duncan dropped Nicodimus beside her. The fire didn’t get to them,” Duncan said. They’ll revive.”
Thank the Gods,” Raven muttered. She bent over her sister, stroking her soot-streaked face. “You see Nidaba? I told you they’d be okay.”
As she spoke, Raven looked up. Nidaba was no longer where she had been before. Turning her head, Raven scanned the area, but still, there was no sign of the strange woman.
Instead, she spied a jeweled dagger, thrust into the earth, and a small scrap of paper pinned there by its blade. She frowned at Duncan, who quickly went to pull the dagger up. Duncan scanned the note, then met Raven’s eyes. “Nidaba has been taken by someone named Marten, who says he’ll release her only to Nicodimus. ‘Come alone,’ it says. ‘You know where to find me.’”
Duncan frowned, his face tight with concern. “Do you have any clue what this is about, Raven?”
Raven shook her head slowly, but her eyes burned with tears of worry for the woman she sensed she had never really met until tonight.
Chapter 21
NIC, COME ON, wake up.”
I heard Duncan’s voice just before my body went rigid, and the life force flooded back into me. Then I went limp, lying still on the damp ground, opening my eyes slowly.
Before me were a massive machine with flashing lights, and men wielding lengths of soft tubing that spouted water at the house. The house . . . Arianna’s home was a sodden, charred mass now. A ruin. Tongues of flame shot forth still, but the fire was nearly extinguished. The sight of it stirred some memory. A brief glimpse of a similar scene from the distant past. A flicker, then gone, leaving me with a sickening feeling in my stomach. I turned my head, not wishing to look on that sight any longer, only to see Arianna lying beside me on the ground. Still.
“Arianna?” I sat up immediately, moving closer, bending over her. Her face was dusted with soot, her hair dulled with it. I touched her face, lifting my gaze to her sister’s. “I do not understand. I pushed her from the window.”
“But you were still inside,” Raven said softly. “She went back in after you. We couldn’t stop her.”
Something twisted in my heart. “She could have burned,” I whispered. I gathered her limp body gently into my arms, pulling her upright, so she rested against my chest. One hand at the small of her back, one cupping her head and holding it to my shoulder, I rocked her back and forth. “You’re such a fool, little cat. Risking death for a man you say you do not love. I think you lie.”
As I held her, she went stiff, sucking in a great gasp, then relaxing in my arms once more as she came awake. “Nicodimus?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Right here. It is all right. Everyone is safe.” As I said it, I realized I had not seen Nidaba, and sent a questioning glance over Raven’s shoulder to Duncan.
The man nodded. “Yes, everyone got out of the house.”
Good. Nidaba was likely frightened by the noise and lights and people. She was probably hiding somewhere nearby.
One of the men who’d been fighting the fire came toward us with a stack of blankets. “The house is lost,” he said, and his voice was thickly laced with a Scottish lilt. “But there be rooms for you at the inn. No charge. An’ by the time you get there, you’ll find a change o’ clothes a’waitin’. Some o’ the local ladies keep such things on hand for emergencies such as this.”
“That’s very kind. Thank you,” Raven said.
In my arms, Arianna was still shaking. Still, I thought, trying to sort through the confusion in her mind. I’d been here with this woman for several days now. And with each one that had passed, my feelings for her had grown. All the suspicions, all the instinctive sense that I must not trust her, and even the knowledge that she had indeed been somehow involved with my death, did nothing to dampen the feelings growing wild within me. There was something about her. Her keen mind and quick wit. Her boldness and intelligence. Her kindness and generosity. Her temper–even that drew me to her. She was small and quick and, I sensed, passionate. I had made love to this woman once, though the memory of it was vague and sketchy now. Knowing it only served to make me want her more, a desire that burned hot within my soul, and seemed to grow daily. But it was more than lust I felt for the woman. A great deal more . . . perhaps more than she wanted me to feel.
I felt it all the same, and sensed she did as well. And I would tell her so, if only she would let me.
It was, however, something she did not wish to hear. And I would respect her wishes. For now. Only for now. She loved me, though she might deny it. I knew that. She had risked her life to save mine tonight. She loved me. She simply needed time to accept the idea.
I took one of the blankets from the stack the man had left with us, and wrapped it around her shoulders, brushing ash from her hair.
“Nic, we need to talk. Something has happened,” Duncan said.
Arianna’s head came up, her eyes alert now, and searching the area around us. “Where is Nidaba?” she asked.
Raven averted her eyes. “Nidaba . . . told me some things a few moments ago. Things you both need to know . . . especially you, Nic.”
I frowned, wish
ing Nidaba would show herself and ease this sudden kernel of worry that seemed to be gnawing at my belly. “What did she tell you?” I asked.
Licking her lips, Raven lifted her gaze to meet mine. “She . . . she’s always been very close to you, hasn’t she? Very protective of you.”
I nodded. “Yes. Sometimes to the extreme.”
“But she’s never told you why, has she?”
“No.”
Raven bit her lip, nodded slowly. “I didn’t think so. Do you know why you were born into this lifetime as an immortal High Witch, Nicodimus?”
I nodded. “Of course. I must have died trying to save the life of another, in the lifetime before.”
“Right. Well, Nidaba . . . she was the one whose life you saved.”
I blinked in surprise, glancing quickly at Arianna. She said, “It doesn’t surprise me. I always knew there was an incredible bond between you two.”
“More than you could even guess,” Duncan said.
I glanced his way. Raven cleared her throat. “When you died to save her life, Nic, Nidaba was . . . .”
“Was . . . ?” I prompted, when she stopped mid-sentence.
“She was your mother.”
I heard Arianna’s soft gasp, even as Raven’s words made their way to my ears. It felt as if my heart jumped into my throat. I parted my lips, but could not speak, could not even breathe for a moment.
“Sweet Goddess,” Arianna whispered. “Your mother . . . . Oh, it all makes so much sense now.”
The large vehicles began to rumble away. My gaze seemed to search the darkness around us as if I were seeking some sense, some explanation that could be found there. There was none, of course. There was the house, reduced to smoking, sodden ash and charred beams that dripped and hissed away the last of their heat. There was Arianna’s driving machine sitting out of harm’s way, and apparently untouched by the flames. There were three people watching me as everything I had believed in my life simply melted away beneath a revelation too shocking to comprehend.
Eternal Love: The Immortal Witch Series Page 63
