Powwell reached out a hand to Ackerly. Join me, Father, in this new quest. Begin your healing alongside me.
Ackerly lifted his hand as well.
The solid iron of the staircase blocked them.
Tears in her eyes, Vareena ran to the first step. She had to brush Ackerly’s ghostly robes. Chills racked her body at the unnatural touch. Just a small taste of what was to come, if she succeeded.
She couldn’t turn back now. She had to succeed. She had to end this here and now.
One at a time she mounted the steps until she stood halfway between the two ghosts. “Let me guide you both forward.” She held out a hand to each. Bare finger-lengths separated her hands from theirs. “You have to try harder. You have to reach beyond your fears, beyond the limitations of this existence.”
Both ghosts leaned forward, bending around the iron barrier.
Still they could not reach her.
Then Powwell shifted his staff. He grasped the butt end and pushed the crystal-studded head down. It dropped on the second step.
Ackerly couldn’t reach it without touching the deadly iron. Vareena grasped the crystal at the end of the staff. Ackerly held out the hilt of his knife for her questing hands. She clutched them both tightly.
Light, power, love pulsed through the staff and the knife. They washed over Vareena in endless, daunting waves. The onslaught of emotions drained the strength from her knees. The intricate pattern of the iron stair pressed through her gown, bruising her mortal flesh. She fought to remain conscious, to keep the tunnel of light open for the two souls who must take the first steps toward their next existence.
The magical tools burned her palms. The iron stairs seared her knees. Light pierced her eyes, until she knew she must close them or be blinded for life. Her aching need for freedom intensified. How could she leave if she couldn’t see? How could she work her meager acres without her sight? Who would love her, a blind spinster with burn scars hampering her grasp and her walk?
Still she clung to the tools, binding father and son together.
“Vareena!” Marcus and Robb cried.
She couldn’t see them. The staff and the knife continued to vibrate, continued to bind her to her ghosts. She sensed Ackerly and Powwell lifting free of the confines of their half-existence. Sensed their spirits joining, melding, leaving her behind.
Their joy flooded her. “Take me with you,” she whispered. “Take me away from the hurts of this life, from the weight of my duty and responsibility.”
“Not yet, Vareena. You have too much life to live and love to give.” Marcus eased the staff from her hands. “I’ll help you heal. I’ll take care of you, if you let me.”
She heard the wooden staff land on the stone floor with a clatter. The knife followed, its blade shattering.
Robb lifted her free of the staircase. Both magicians held her close, crooning soothing words. Each loving her in his own way.
“You’re safe now. The Rover women are coming to heal you.” Marcus kissed her temple, smoothing tangled hair out of her eyes.
“Lord Andrall has pledged his protection of you and your acres.”
“You are safe now.”
She couldn’t tell which man spoke, only that they both took care of her as she had taken care of them and all the ghosts of this place. She leaned into Marcus, cherishing the strength of his arms supporting her.
Thank you, Vareena. Thank you for your gift of love and
healing, Powwell and Ackerly both whispered across her mind.
She opened her eyes. Too much light still blazed around the edges of her vision. The gloaming lifted. She could see only a few dark figures at the center of the brightness. But she could see.
She saw a tiny hedgehog scuttle away from the staff under her skirts, seeking protection and love. She stooped to cradle it in her burned hands.
Thorny, the creature announced his name to her.
“I guess that makes you a magician after all,” Marcus said around a huge smile. “Powwell left you his staff and his familiar.”
A gift of love and healing for a gift of love and healing. Powwell’s voice echoed around the library, spreading to the courtyard.
The mist of Ackerly’s spell lifted from all around. The gold lay inert and uncharmed upon its shelves, ready and waiting to be put to use.
The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III Page 76
