The Raintree Box Set: Raintree: InfernoRaintree: HauntedRaintree: Sanctuary

by Linda Howard

  “I saw him, Daddy,” Eve said. “I drew a picture of him and of where he was when he tried to talk to me. Come see.”

  Judah walked across the room, stood directly behind Eve and looked down at her artwork. His muscles tightened when he saw the remarkable likeness of Cael that she had sketched in crayon. She had depicted his brother standing, his fist in the air, an expression of sheer madness on his handsome face. The background appeared to be gray cinder block walls, rough wooden flooring and outdated metal furniture. Interesting. He had never known Cael to rough it, not when it came to accommodations. His brother preferred luxury above all else.

  “Amazing,” Judah said, awed by his daughter’s talent. “You’re a remarkably gifted artist.”

  Eve looked up at him, smiled and laid down the yellow crayon she had used to shade Cael’s hair. “Am I, Daddy? Mother says the same thing. But she told me that she has no idea where I got such talent, because she and Uncle Dante and Uncle Gideon can’t draw pictures like I do.”

  “My mother was a renowned Ansara artist,” Judah said. “The pala—” He caught himself before the word “palace” escaped his lips. “My home is filled with her paintings.”

  “She wasn’t your brother’s mommy,” Eve said with certainty. “His mother was bad, just like he’s bad.”

  “Yes, Nusi was a very bad woman.”

  Eve stood and looked up at Judah. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt my mother the way Nusi hurt my grandma Seana.”

  Judah stared at his child, amazed anew at her keen insight. Her abilities were not only unnaturally strong for one so young, but far more numerous than those of even the most powerful members of either clan. “How did you know about what happened to my mother?”

  Eve laid her left hand over her heart. “I know in here. That’s all. I just know.”

  “What do you know?” Mercy stood in the open doorway, her features etched with concern.

  Eve ran over to her mother. “Guess what? I know where I got my talent for drawing such good pictures.” She beamed her radiant smile at Judah. “I got it from my grandma Seana.”

  Mercy shot Judah a questioning glare.

  “My mother was a gifted artist,” Judah said. Seana Ansara had been the most talented Ansara artist in generations. Not only had Nusi’s bitter jealousy robbed Judah of his mother and Hadar of his beloved wife, but the world of an artistic genius.

  “Did you draw something for Daddy?” Mercy entered the room, Eve at her side.

  “I drew a picture of that bad man, Daddy’s brother.” Eve rushed over, picked up her drawing and held it in front of her to show Mercy.

  “When did you see this bad man?” Mercy asked, staring at the remarkably accurate portrait of Cael’s madness. Judah realized she was doing her best not to reveal just how upset she was.

  “He tried to talk to me again,” Eve said. “He keeps calling my name and saying if I’ll talk to him, he’ll listen.” Frowning, she threw the picture on the floor, then stomped on it. “But I didn’t talk to him, and my daddy told him he’d better not ever bother me again or he’d be sorry. Didn’t you, Daddy?”

  Judah cleared his throat. “There’s no way Cael can invade Eve’s thoughts unless she willingly allows him in. The shield you’ve put around her will protect her.”

  “Yes, I know.” Mercy motioned to Eve. “Come along, sweetie. Sidonia has lunch ready. Your favorite—macaroni and cheese. With fresh peaches and whipped cream for dessert.”

  Eve eyed her drawings, and the paper and crayons lying on the floor. “Don’t I need to pick up first?”

  “You can do that after lunch.” Mercy exchanged a we-need-to-talk look with Judah, then gave Eve a nudge toward the door. “You run along and tell Sidonia that Judah and I will be there in just a minute.”

  Eve hesitated, glanced from one parent to the other, and said, “You’re not going to fuss at each other again, are you?”

  “No, we’re not,” Mercy promised.

  “I hope not.” Eve slumped her shoulders, sighed and ambled slowly out into the foyer.

  Judah didn’t wait for Mercy to attack. “He’s going to come for me. Soon.”

  “I see.” She took several steps back and closed the pocket doors. “I suppose Eve overheard him say this to you.”

  “She didn’t tell me she heard him, but, yes, I assume she did.”

  “When he comes, you can’t fight him here on Raintree ground.”

  Judah nodded. “I understand your concerns. But if he finds a way to breach the shield around the sanctuary, I’ll have no choice.”

  “Only someone with power equal to mine or my brother Dante’s—”

  “Before you ask—no, Cael is not the Ansara Dranir,” Judah said. “But he is a powerful sorcerer, with an arsenal of black magic tricks.”

  “When he comes here to the sanctuary and calls you out, Eve will be aware of his presence, and she’ll want to do something to help you.”

  “We can’t allow her anywhere near Cael. Somehow we have to make her understand that the fight must be between my brother and me.”

  “She’ll listen to what we say, but whether or not she’ll obey us is another thing altogether.”

  “I’ll find a way to make her understand.”

  “You can certainly try.”

  “When the time comes, I’ll need you to stay with Eve,” Judah said. “If I’m distracted by trying to protect her…”

  “You need to talk to Eve and explain on a level she will understand how important it is for her not to interfere.”

  “Would you allow me time alone with her, without her guard dog?”

  “Yes. I’ll tell Sidonia that you’re allowed to take Eve for a walk this afternoon while I’m working.”

  Judah noted Mercy’s frown and the weariness she couldn’t hide.

  “You’ve been gone all morning, and Sidonia refused to tell me where you were, but Eve mentioned that you were making sick people well.”

  “It’s no secret that I’m a healer,” Mercy said. “This morning, I was with two Raintree seers who can no longer see clearly into the future.”

  “And were you able to restore their powers?”

  “No. Not yet. This happens sometimes, especially when a talent is overused or…I believe with rest and meditation, they’ll be fine.”

  “And what will you be doing this afternoon?”

  “We had a new arrival yesterday, someone who lost her husband and both children in a horrific car accident six months ago. She’s in agonizing emotional pain.”

  “And you’re going to take her pain into yourself. How can you stand it? Why put yourself through such torment when you don’t have to?”

  “Because it’s wrong not to use the talents with which we’re blessed. I’m an empathic healer. It’s not just what I do, it’s who I am.”

  “Yes, you’re right. It is who you are. I understand.” Judah wondered if Mercy would understand that their daughter had been born to save his people?

  Judah spoke with Claude every morning and every evening, using secure cell phones, despite their advanced telepathic abilities. Telephone communication was more difficult for Cael to intercept.

  “He hasn’t returned to Terrebonne,” Claude said.

  “Then where the hell is he?”

  “I have no idea. It’s as if he’s vanished off the face of the earth. Even Sidra can’t locate him. He’s undoubtedly shielding his whereabouts.”

  “Eve drew a picture of him today, after he tried to talk to her.”

  “Could she locate him for us?”

  “She might be able to,” Judah said. “But I can’t risk her getting that close to him. He could capture her thoughts and hypnotize her, or enter her dreams and make her deathly sick.”

  “Wherever he is and whatever he’s doing, he’s up to no good.”

  “What about the warriors who left Terrebonne with him? Have they returned?”

  “No, and several others are unaccounted for.”

 
; “Then it’s begun, hasn’t it? He’s gradually amassing his army.”

  “Let him.” Claude emitted a grunting huff. “He’s a fool if he believes that a few dozen renegade warriors make an army.”

  “He told me that he’s coming for me soon.”

  “And when he does, you’ll kill him.”

  “We should be there on Terrebonne for the Death Duel,” Judah said. “But that could well be what he expects me to do—return home and leave Eve unprotected.”

  “She has protection. Her mother and—”

  “Raintree protection. It’s not enough for a child such as Eve.”

  “Then do what you have to do. Kill Cael on Raintree ground, then bring your daughter home to Terrebonne where she belongs.”

  After dinner with his daughter and the ever-watchful Sidonia, Judah told Eve that he was going for a walk and would see her before bedtime to say good-night. They had spent hours alone together today, and he felt he had convinced her that she could be of more help to him by not interfering in his fight with Cael than if she injected herself into the situation. He needed to find Mercy and assure her that Eve had listened to him, and that when the time came, she would obey their orders.

  As he headed out the back door, Eve called, “I wish you’d go see about my mother. She’s almost always home for supper, and she wasn’t tonight. Meta must be terribly sick for Mommy to spend so much time with her.”

  “Your mother’s fine.” Sidonia gave Judah a warning glare. “She doesn’t need anything from him. When she’s done her job, she’ll come home.”

  “Don’t worry about your mother,” Judah said. “I’m sure Sidonia’s right and your mother’s fine.”

  “No, she’s not, Daddy. I think she needs you.”

  Once outside, with the sun low in the west and a warm breeze blowing, Judah thought about Eve’s concern for Mercy. He had wondered what would keep Mercy from dinner with her daughter, and suspected that Eve’s take on the problem was accurate. Undoubtedly the woman—Eve had called her Meta—that Mercy was counseling was seriously ill. Was this Meta the woman Mercy had told him about, the one who had lost her husband and children six months ago?

  Had Mercy become so engrossed in easing this woman’s pain that she had taken too much of the agony into herself and was in such bad shape that she either couldn’t return home or didn’t want Eve to see her in her weakened condition? Was Eve right—did Mercy need him?

  Hell. What difference did it make? Why should he care if Mercy was writhing in pain, or perhaps unconscious and tortured by the suffering that rightfully belonged to someone else?

  Don’t think about Mercy. Think about Cael. About finally meeting him in combat.

  Think about Eve. About keeping her safe and taking her home to Terrebonne.

  But he couldn’t help himself, and his thoughts returned to the past and the promise he’d once made.

  I’m sorry, Father. I’ve done all I can, tried everything possible. Cael can’t be saved. He is as insane as Nusi was. Even in death, her hold on him is too strong. Forgive me, but I have no choice but to kill my brother.

  Less than an hour into his solitary walk, Judah ran into Brenna and Geol taking an evening stroll. By the way they held hands and from the mating vibes he picked up from them, he suspected that if they were not already lovers, they soon would be.

  “You’re out all alone?” Geol asked. “Where’s Mercy?”

  “She’s with a new arrival to the sanctuary,” Judah replied. “A woman named Meta.”

  “Oh, yes. Poor Meta.” Brenna shook her head sadly. “She should have come to Mercy months ago. I’m afraid it may be too late for her now.”

  “What do you mean, ‘too late’?” Judah asked.

  “Did Mercy not tell you? Meta tried to kill herself and will probably try again.”

  “No, she didn’t tell me.”

  “We’ve all been taking turns,” Brenna said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “A suicide watch.”

  “Where is Meta’s cabin?” Judah asked, then quickly added, “I thought I’d meet Mercy and walk her home.”

  Brenna smiled. Lovers always assumed the whole world was in love. Brenna was young, her mind an open book, so he could read her romantic thoughts quite easily. She suspected that Judah Blackstone, Mercy’s old boyfriend from college, might possibly be Eve’s father, and she hoped they would rekindle their romance.

  Without hesitation, she gave Judah directions; then she and Geol disappeared, arm in arm, into the advancing twilight. The sky to the west radiated with the remainder of the day’s light, spreading red and orange and deep pink layers of color across the horizon.

  Meta’s cabin was about a quarter of a mile away, one of three structures built along the mountainside. The topmost cabin overlooked a small waterfall that trickled steadily over worn-smooth boulders, until it reached one of the creeks that ran through the Raintree property not far from the main house.

  When Judah approached Meta’s cabin, he noticed that the door and windows were all open, a misty green light escaping from them. Pausing to watch the unusual sight, he tried to recall if he’d ever witnessed anything similar. He hadn’t. Although there were a few Ansara empaths, only two or three had actually cultivated the healing aspects of their personalities. It took a great deal of selflessness to devote your life to healing.

  He had heard stories of how, in centuries past, many royal Ansara had kept empathic healers caged for the sole purpose of emptying their pain into these women as if they were waste receptacles. He could well believe that someone like Cael was capable of such an atrocity and would even take great pleasure in inflicting such torture.

  Judah moved cautiously toward the open front door but stopped dead still when he saw Mercy standing over a woman sitting on the floor, each woman with her arms outstretched as if welcoming a lover into her embrace. The eerie green light came from Mercy. It surrounded her, enveloped her, poured from her like water from a free-flowing fountain. The black-haired woman Judah assumed was Meta had her eyes closed, and tears streamed down her face.

  Mercy spoke softly, her words in an alien tongue. Judah, as the Dranir, possessed the unique talent of zenoglossy, the rare ability to speak and understand any language. The gift of tongues. He listened to her soothing voice as she beseeched any remaining unbearable pain to leave Meta’s heart and mind and enter hers. Wisps of green vapor floated from the woman’s fingertips and entered Mercy’s body through her fingers.

  When Mercy cried out and cursed the pain, Judah tensed. And when she moaned, shivering, writhing in agony, it took all Judah’s resolve not to rush into the room and stop her. But the moment passed, and the green mist filtered through Mercy and into the air, leaving behind a tranquil turquoise glow inside the cabin. Judah heaved a deep, groaning sigh.

  Mercy reached down, took Meta’s outstretched hands and pulled her to her feet. Speaking in the ancient tongue once again, Mercy bestowed tranquility on Meta’s mind, solace on her heart and peace on her soul, a white light passing from Mercy’s body into Meta’s.

  Judah watched and waited.

  Finally Mercy released Meta’s hands and said, “Rest now. Tomorrow you will prepare to move into the next phase of your life.”

  “Thank you.” Meta wiped the moisture from her damp cheeks. “If you hadn’t…I can never repay you for what you’ve done.”

  “Repay me by living a long and full life.”

  Judah could tell by how whisper soft Mercy’s voice was, and by the way she wavered slightly, that she was near exhaustion. When she turned and walked toward the door, she moved slowly, as if her feet were bound with heavy weights. Judah backed out of the doorway and waited for her outside. When she stepped out into the fresh night air, she staggered and grabbed the doorframe to steady herself. As the moment of weakness passed, she closed the door behind her. Then she saw Judah.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you, to walk you home.”

  She glare
d at him.

  “That was quite remarkable, what you did in there,” he told her.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Only a few minutes, but long enough to see what you were doing. She’s going to be all right now, isn’t she? She won’t try to kill herself again.”

  “How did…? Who told you about Meta?”

  “I ran into Brenna and Geol. Brenna told me about Meta, and also how to find her cabin. Did you know that Brenna thinks we were lovers and that I’m Eve’s father?”

  Mercy rubbed her forehead. “I’m too tired to worry about what Brenna thinks. As long as she doesn’t suspect that you’re Ansara…”

  “She doesn’t.”

  Mercy nodded. “Good. Now I need to go home and rest. I’m very tired. If you wanted to talk to me about something in particular, it will have to wait a few hours until I’ve rested.”

  “I really did come here just to walk you home.”

  She eyed him suspiciously, then started moving away from the cabin. Judah fell into step beside her but didn’t say anything else. They walked a good forty yards or so in silence, the only sounds the nocturnal rural symphony coming slowly to life all around them.

  Suddenly Mercy stopped. “Judah?”

  “Yes?”

  “I—I don’t think—”

  She wavered unsteadily, then spiraled downward in a slow whirl to the ground. Judah called her name as she lay at his feet, a serene angel who had spent her last ounce of energy. He knelt and lifted her into his arms; then glanced up at the mountainside cabin nestled above the waterfall.

  Waking suddenly, Mercy shot straight up, gasping for air, feeling disoriented and strangely frightened. Where was she? Not at home. She patted the surface around her. She was in a bed, just not her bed.

  “How do you feel?” Judah asked.

  Judah?

  She turned to follow the sound of his voice. He was standing halfway across the room, near the windows, moonlight highlighting his tall, muscular body.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “In the cabin near the waterfall.”

  “What happened?” She held up a restraining hand. “No, it’s all right. I remember. I felt faint and…Why did you bring me here instead of taking me home?”